“For the record, this is a bad idea,” he muttered.
I released him. “That you agreed to.”
He grinned a lopsided smile. “Let’s go face the army.”
We sprinted to the front of the village, contemplating our options as we waited for the approaching soldats.
“I have an idea,” I said. “You probably won’t like it.”
Anders chuckled. “That’s usually my line.” Whenever he smiled, which wasn’t very often, he made my heart flutter.
“Since Morlet won’t kill me, I want you to flee with Henrik and Stein. I’ll remain here alone to face the king and his army.”
“Absolutely not.” He took a step toward me, so we were only inches apart.
“Morlet will be so focused on me that the villagers will be able to get far enough away.”
He clutched my arms, gripping them tightly.
“If we let Morlet take me—”
Anders started dragging me away from the village.
“Let me finish telling you the plan,” I insisted, digging my feet into the ground.
“No, because it’s a stupid plan.”
“You can sneak into the army’s camp tonight and free me.” If I hadn’t already managed to escape on my own. “You don’t have a choice in the matter,” I said, allowing a pinch of my power out, just enough to shock Anders so he’d release me. He stared at me, rubbing his arm where I’d struck him. “Get the rest of the people out of here.”
His eyes hardened with determination, and he whistled. A moment later, Stein came running toward us. “Finish evacuating the village,” Anders ordered. “Kaia and I are going to hold off the soldats as long as we can.”
“We have orders not to face the king,” Stein said.
“I’m staying to fight until I see Morlet,” I informed him, well aware I didn’t have to follow Vidar’s orders as Anders did. “The first line of men are marching this way.” I nodded up the road where soldats could be seen.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said to me before running back into the village, yelling as he went for everyone to move faster. He picked up a crying child and ran with him under his arm.
“Are you sure about this?” Anders asked.
I wasn’t going to run and hide like a coward while hundreds of people were murdered in the king’s quest to find and capture the Krigers. “Absolutely.” I reached back and grabbed my bo staff.
✧
Soldats approached, marching four across.
“I count four squads of a dozen men each,” Anders murmured. “Not too bad.”
The king was nowhere in sight. I clutched my bo staff, trying not to let my arms shake too badly. “There are two of us and forty-eight of them. I don’t particularly favor those odds.”
The frontline withdrew their swords from their scabbards as they neared. When they were twenty feet away, Anders hollered for the four of them to stop.
“We have orders from the king to burn this village to the ground,” one of the soldats said, taking a step forward. “Including all residents.”
“Where is the king?” I asked.
“None of your business, girl,” he sneered. “I think we’ll begin with you.”
He must not have realized I was a Kriger, which meant the king didn’t expect me to be there. If he was burning villages with the hopes of drawing me out, where did he expect me to go? Did he want me to contact him through a dream? Or did he have other plans? I widened my stance, prepared to engage the men. Luckily, there weren’t any archers among them.
“Killing blows?” Anders asked.
As much as I didn’t want to take a life, we couldn’t allow these men to live. They’d only awaken to finish the job. “Yes.”
“Very well,” Anders said, unsheathing two daggers. “Killing blows.”
The four soldats charged straight for us. I lifted my bo staff, pointing it toward them. I called on my inner power, and it eagerly responded, connecting to the power in my weapon. I unleashed it and hit the man on the left. He fell to the ground. I pointed my bo staff at the next man, releasing my power and striking him. He, too, dropped to the ground. I did the same to the two remaining soldats as they ran toward me. They crashed down, not moving.
“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Anders mumbled.
“You’ve already been there, and you somehow managed to survive.”
The remaining eight men from the first squad ran toward us. “My turn,” Anders said as he charged toward them. He flung his daggers, striking two men while flipping a third onto the ground. He knelt on the man’s neck and retrieved his daggers, now dripping with blood, and plunged his weapon into the man, killing him. The remaining five approached. Anders held up a finger, telling me to wait. He spun and kicked the next soldat. The man flew to the ground, smacking his head with a sickening crunch. Anders could have easily lifted his blow dart and taken out the rest of them. However, he continued to engage in hand-to-hand combat. I rolled my eyes—he must have excessive aggression to release. He dispatched the last four men; the entire squad lay unmoving on the ground.
The next squad attacked. Flipping my bo staff in the air, I waited for Anders to need my assistance. He threw his daggers, taking out two men. Sliding a knife from his sleeve, he chucked it, killing another man. The next soldat swung his sword toward Anders, who stepped to the side and slammed his elbow down. When the man fell forward, Anders jumped on him, plunging a knife into his back.
A chill inched over my body. Killing was so easy and natural for Anders. It was a part of him that I didn’t understand, and it scared me. Anders flung his body to the side, dodging a strike. He twisted, threw the man on the ground, and snapped his neck.
Seven men surrounded Anders. It was time for me to intervene. I pulled on my inner power, connecting it to my bo staff. Lifting my weapon toward the soldats surrounding Anders, I struck one of them. He crumpled to the ground. Anders took down two more, and I struck another. The remaining three looked between Anders and me, as if trying to decide whom to attack. Anders sliced through two of them, and I killed the third. My arms shook and my head pounded from using so much power.
Another squad rushed forward. Half of the men ran toward me, the other toward Anders. I struck the nearest one with my power. The next one swung his sword toward me. I raised my bo staff, blocking his hit. My weapon shook from the impact. I did a front kick, shoving him away from me while angling my bo staff and unleashing my power, killing him. Another soldat punched my stomach. I fell forward, my stomach violently cramping. He hit my back, and I crumpled to the ground. Rolling over, I raised my hands and set my power free, not holding anything back. The remaining four men grabbed their heads, screaming in pain.
I clamored to my feet and picked up my weapon. With shaking hands, I pointed my weapon at each of them, striking with enough power to kill them.
I turned to see what state Anders was in. All six of the men who had attacked him lay on the ground. Blood pooled around Anders’s feet, and sweat coated his forehead. His chest heaved up and down.
The last squad of twelve men attacked. Thankfully, these men were regular soldats and not the king’s elite guard. I widened my stance, preparing to fight. Anders lifted his blow dart to his mouth, darting the first four men with poison. They grabbed their necks, removing the darts, but it was too late. They toppled to the ground, twitching, and then went still.
I raised my weapon and struck down as many of the men as I could. Anders reloaded his blow dart and darted more men. There were only four remaining. One ran for me. My arms shook so profusely from using so much of my power I could barely lift my weapon. He threw his sword at me, and I ducked. It flew over my head. The soldat jumped on me, tackling me to the ground. I heard a sickening plop as his body jerked toward me, and then went still. I shoved his lifeless body off me. A knife protruded from his back. Anders must have thrown it.
Only one remained alive, and Anders had him pinned to the ground. “Where’s the
king?” Anders demanded.
The man spit on the dirt. “I’m not telling you.”
He twisted the soldat’s arm. Something snapped, making me cringe. The man screamed, the sound echoing through the forest. “Where’s the king?” Anders asked, seizing the man’s other arm, preparing to break it.
Seeing the man being tortured brought me back to the castle when Morlet placed me on the wooden contraption and stretched my arms and legs, practically tearing my limbs off. I had no desire to be a part of something so cruel and barbaric—even if it was an effective way of procuring information. I turned to leave.
“He’s not here,” the man said, panting through his pain.
I stopped to listen.
“Where is he?” Anders asked, his voice low and lethal, making my skin crawl.
“Back at our campsite,” the man answered through gritted teeth. “Orders came for us to travel here and burn the village.”
“Why didn’t Morlet come with you?” Anders asked.
“Word is he’s sick.”
Dread slid into my body. It had been days since I saw Morlet. He should have recovered from healing me by now.
“Kaia?” Anders asked, instantly by my side.
The soldat lay on the ground, his throat slit. My vision swam, and my stomach rolled with nausea. So many men lay dead at my feet. I’d killed them. And now the news that Morlet was still ill from healing me from the fugl’s poison. It was all too much.
Anders whistled. Stein and Henrik emerged from the village, looking exhausted, but there was no evidence of injury on either one of them.
“Did the people get out?” Anders asked.
“Yes,” Stein said. “We told the villagers to hide until the army was neutralized. There is a cavern nearby. Most people went there.”
Henrik rested his ax on his shoulder, surveying the damage around us. “The two of you did this?” He shook his head. “There has to be about fifty soldats.” Instead of disgust, awe covered his face. I looked away, ashamed.
“Let’s go,” Anders said, instead of answering. “Kaia is weak from using so much of her power. I want to find a safe place for her to rest and something for her to eat.”
As we headed away from the village, I hoped Morlet didn’t send more men to destroy it. He had enough trouble gaining able-bodied men to his army; he couldn’t afford to lose so many again.
My skin tickled as if a feather brushed over it. That only happened when Morlet was trying to communicate with me. I clutched the medallion, thankful it blocked magic from being used on me. I didn’t want to face the king right now for fear of being called a hypocrite.
When I entered the cave, I wanted nothing more than to drop onto my cot and sleep since Anders had made us travel quickly the entire way back. Granted, it wasn’t at the breakneck pace he’d set on the way to the village, but it was still grueling.
Stein and Henrik dragged their feet over to their bedrolls and collapsed. Krigers were scattered throughout the cave—some lying down, others resting near the fire. No one spoke. I quickly counted those present. Everyone was accounted for, including Vidar and the three Krigers he’d taken with him on the mission. Damaris sat before the fire, Vidar at her side. Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying. I hesitated a moment before going over to sit next to her.
“How did it go?” I asked, not really wanting to know given Damaris’s state.
Vidar shook his head. “We were too late.”
Dread filled me. “You don’t mean—”
“The soldats beheaded Cyrill,” Vidar whispered. “They put his head on a spike as a warning to the rebels.”
Damaris’s shoulders shook as she cried. Vidar’s free hand balled into a fist, his face was white as snow, and his hair was disheveled, as if he hadn’t slept in days.
“Why don’t you give us a moment?” I gently said to Vidar. He nodded and left. I scooted closer to Damaris.
“I don’t need your pity,” she said, her voice ragged.
“I wasn’t going to offer it.”
She wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked at me. “There is nothing you can say or do to bring Cyrill back or make me feel better.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you sitting there?”
I shrugged, not really knowing what to say or do. “I understand your pain.”
She raised her eyebrows, waiting for me to explain.
“I… my father died the night we rescued the Krigers. He was all I had. I know it doesn’t help, that your pain is unbearable, but I want you to know that I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”
“Do you like discussing your father’s death?”
“No.” I didn’t even like thinking about it.
“Then let us make a pact.” Damaris reached out and took my hand, holding it. “Let us offer each other friendship and not dwell on the painful memories of the past.”
Comforting warmth spread into me, my power responding to her words. “That sounds like a good idea,” I said.
She smiled. “After all, we girls need to stick together, especially among these men.”
✧
I sat on the ledge just outside the cave watching the sunrise while eating my breakfast. I’d gone my entire life living with just my father. Now, I had Anders, Vidar, eleven Krigers, and Damaris around all the time. I wasn’t used to the lack of privacy.
Anders ducked outside the cave and leaned against the boulder beside me. “Do you still want to return to your apartment?”
“Yes.” With all the commotion surrounding the last few days, I’d assumed Anders had forgotten my request.
“Then let’s go.” He pushed off the boulder.
“Right now?” I shoved the last piece of bread in my mouth.
“Unless you’d rather wait.”
I jumped to my feet. “Give me five minutes to gather supplies.”
“I already packed for the both of us.” He started climbing down the mountain.
“Let me go and say good-bye to everyone.”
✧
Pushing my body flat against the twenty-foot stone wall surrounding the capital, I silently waited while Anders jostled the blocks, trying to locate the loose ones we used to sneak in and out.
“Hurry up,” I whispered.
“There are sentries patrolling the wall above us,” Anders chided me. “They’re armed with bows and arrows. So unless you have a death wish, stop talking.”
I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see the gesture in the dark. There weren’t any moons or stars out, which made traveling undetected easier.
“Ready?” he asked, lowering the last block to the ground.
I nodded, and he motioned for me to go through the hole first. After I made it to the other side, he pushed the blocks through to me, and I hauled them to the ground. Once Anders was inside the wall next to me, we put the blocks back into place. Staying hidden in the shadows, he led the way to the east side of the capital. Since curfew was in effect, soldats roamed the streets, looking for citizens out and about. If they saw us, we’d either be killed on sight or captured and taken to the dungeon where our feet would be chopped off.
When I passed between the tall, gray buildings lining the streets, an oppressive feeling inundated me. Each structure was jam-packed with apartments housing multiple families similar to the one I had lived in. The smell of decay and trash coated the air. The king’s castle stood in the distance like a black beast hovering over its subjects. I longed for the peaceful forest.
“Hopefully, your apartment is still vacant,” Anders murmured. “Once the rent isn’t paid, soldats will lease it to someone else. All the belongings will be sold.”
I couldn’t imagine anyone else living there or what little possessions we had being sold. It hadn’t been long since my father died. The idea of returning to our home and seeing his things made my throat close up. Would the place still smell like him? Would the beds be unmade? Would his clothes be strewn about? It would be as
if time had frozen. What was once my home, filled with love, no longer existed because Papa no longer lived.
“Kaia?” Anders whispered. “Are you okay? You’re as white as a sheet.”
“I’m fine.”
We rounded the corner. My apartment building loomed up ahead, no soldats in sight. Hurrying along, we made our way to the front entrance and went inside the multi-story building. The familiar smell of fecal matter and unwashed bodies hit me like a ton of bricks. I hurried up the stairs, down the hall, and stopped before the door to my apartment, unable to bring myself to open it.
Anders withdrew two pins from his pocket and inserted them into the lock. After a moment, there was a soft click, and the door swung open. He took my hand, tugging me inside. After closing the door behind us, Anders fumbled around until he found a candle sitting on the small table next to the door. He lit it.
The room was just as I remembered. The worn kitchen table, my cot covered with blankets in the corner, the door to my father’s bedchamber—the only other room in the apartment. Closing my eyes, I could hear my father’s gruff voice instructing me in hand-to-hand combat, his laughter echoing in the small room, my squeal of delight when he returned from a long day at work. Staring at his closed door, I half expected him to come walking out at any second.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Anders asked, placing his hand on the small of my back.
I nodded, unable to speak. I wouldn’t be able to do this without his steadfast presence next to me.
“Morlet could have soldats watching the place,” he said, “so let’s be quick.”
When I opened the door to Papa’s room, the familiar smell of him—a hint of sweat mixed with dust from the mines—invaded my senses. I started crying. Anders hugged me, and I buried my face against his chest.
“I miss him so much it hurts.”
“I know,” he murmured against my hair. Banging came from the apartment above us. “Get what you came here for so we can leave before someone discovers we’re here.” Anders released me.
After wiping my eyes, I took the candle and went to the corner of Papa’s room, feeling along the edge of the wall until the loose board popped open, revealing a small, dark closet hidden between the panels. Papa had made it for me to hide in when soldats performed searches. It was empty.
Burning Shadows Page 7
