After what seemed an eternity, she made it through the servants’ door and closed it behind her. For a moment she leaned against the wall, weak with relief at her narrow escape. From the other side of the door she could hear voices, Lowellin’s, followed by a harsh one that was probably one of the Devourers. When she’d collected herself, she started to walk away, then turned back. She had to listen in. It was a terrible risk, but she had to know what they were talking about. Maybe they would say something about Fen.
Her pulse picking up, she eased the door open a crack and peeked through. Lowellin was sitting at the table, one of the Devourers standing over him. The others were out of sight.
“I want him found,” the Devourer said in his gravelly voice. “I want him killed.”
“I’ll find him, don’t worry,” Lowellin said.
Ravin’s heart soared. They had to be talking about Fen. That meant he was still alive.
“Soon.”
“Soon,” Lowellin agreed. “I don’t know what you’re so worried about, though. He’s only a pup. He’s no real threat to you.”
“Even a weak enemy can get lucky,” the Devourer said. “I will take no chances with this one.”
“Your wish is my command and all that,” Lowellin said.
“Do not take this lightly. I am already angry with you for not having completed your mission in time.” He crooked a finger. Something bulged under Lowellin’s skin, and he hunched over in sudden pain.
“I wish you’d quit doing that,” Lowellin said through gritted teeth.
Ilsith moved into Ravin’s line-of-sight and spoke up then. “We were close. Soon the final piece of the key would have been ours.”
The armored Devourer looked at him. “You have been saying that for centuries, Ilsith. Why our queen tolerated your ineptitude for so long is beyond me.”
“Because I was the only one who could do it,” Ilsith replied. With the shadows that swirled constantly around him, it was hard to see the expression on Ilsith’s face, but Ravin could hear the rage in his voice. “You could not have done better, S’nash.”
“A child could have done better,” S’nash replied.
“You will not speak to me this way,” Ilsith rasped, his voice hoarse. “I made the ultimate sacrifice for my queen. You have no inkling of what I have been through, the price I have paid.”
S’nash’s hand dropped to the hilt of the hook-bladed weapon he carried. “I will speak however I want. Unless you think you are strong enough to stop me?”
Ilsith made a hissing sound but did not otherwise reply. He looked frail and insubstantial next to S’nash’s powerful form. Even through the shadows that cloaked him, Ravin could see that his face was badly ravaged by time. It was a face shaped by millennia of hardship and suffering.
“Just as I thought,” S’nash said. “Your time here has made you weak.” He laughed. It was an unpleasant sound. Ilsith’s ravaged features twisted, then he turned and walked away.
S’nash looked Ravin’s way. It was hard to tell, but he seemed to be looking right at her. Her heart pounding, she pulled back from the crack. It was time to get out of here. Walking as softly as she could, she fled down the hall.
There was no longer any question that she had to get out of the palace, maybe out of the city itself. Fen was the city’s only hope of fighting back against Lowellin and those creatures. She wouldn’t allow herself to be used against him again. Whatever might happen to her paled in comparison to that.
She considered going to her room to fetch some things but decided against it. They might send someone there to look for her at any moment. She needed to run.
She moved quickly through the kitchen. The head cook called out to her, but she pretended she didn’t hear him and kept going. She passed a few other servants, but no one paid any attention to her. She reached a door to outside and opened it a tiny bit to look out. The sun was close to rising. Everything seemed normal. There were a few workers walking by, a gardener watering some plants. If Lowellin was starting to look for her, the news hadn’t spread this far yet.
In her pocket was a scarf. She tied it over her hair, hoping it would help conceal her identity somewhat. Taking a firm grip on her courage, she stepped outside. Only a few people were about, none of them looking her way. She headed for the castle gates, trying to move slowly, to act like she was only another servant headed somewhere on an errand. Definitely not like someone fleeing. She wished she had a basket or a sack or anything to help complete the disguise.
She neared the gates without drawing any attention. There were no cries of alarm behind her. She relaxed a tiny bit. It looked like she was going to make it. She had no idea where she was going to go once she got out of the castle, but right now all that mattered was that she got out of here.
She heard running footsteps behind her, and her heart stopped. A dozen responses occurred to her simultaneously: fighting, fleeing, begging. All of them seemed equally useless. The footsteps drew nearer, and she braced herself, waiting for the hand to fall on her shoulder.
The man ran on by without slowing. It was one of the royal messengers. He ran to the gates and spoke earnestly to the guards stationed there. The sergeant in charge nodded to him, then gave an order. A soldier pulled the gates closed. The other soldiers on duty fanned out to block the gates off.
Ravin veered off, her thoughts in turmoil. How was she going to get out now? She was trapped. Once they started searching the castle, it was only a matter of time until they found her. In her mind she ran through possible hiding places and knew none of them would work for long. Plus, she would have to come out for food and water, and anyone she asked for help would be at risk.
She stopped behind a wagon and tried to figure out what to do next. Could she hide somewhere until it was dark, then get a long rope and climb down the wall? She discarded that idea almost instantly. The castle wall was patrolled all night long. One of the soldiers would see her for sure. Even if they didn’t, she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to climb down a rope without losing her hold and falling.
She looked at the wagon. Maybe she could stow away in a wagon that was leaving, hide under some stuff in the back. It might work. Wagons came and went all day long.
There was a commotion over by the gates, and she peeked around the end of the wagon. A merchant was standing outside the gates arguing with the guards. Behind him was a wagon laden with crates. He shook his head and climbed back onto the wagon. He snapped the reins, and the wagon began to back up.
So much for that idea. Ravin realized she needed to find someplace to hide while she came up with a plan. Her gaze fell on the jumble of stones left from when Fen collapsed the tower, saving them both from the giant crab-thing. She might be able to crawl into a gap between some of the stones and hide there. They might not look there for a while.
She was planning which route she would take that would give her as much concealment as possible, when she heard familiar voices. She peeked around the wagon again. What she saw flooded her with relief.
It was Wolfpack squad.
They looked tired. Their faces and arms were blackened with soot. They’d probably been fighting fires all night. Cowley was in the lead, a grim look on his face. He had a long scratch on one cheek. Behind him Noah was talking.
“He’s still alive, I’m telling you. No way Fen lost to the likes of those foreigners.”
“I hope you’re right,” Lukas said. He looked stricken.
“I hate to say it, but I agree with Noah this time,” Strout said. “If they’d killed him, they’d be parading his body around to show everybody. He must still be alive, holed up somewhere.”
Ravin leaned out from behind the wagon and whispered Cowley’s name as loudly as she could. Noah was saying something else, and she wanted to yell at him to shut up for a moment, but then Cowley turned his head. She motioned him to come closer and ducked back behind the wagon.
Cowley headed over to her, the rest of the squad following.
“What are you doing hiding back there, Ravin?” Noah said loudly.
Cowley was a little quicker on the uptake, and he cuffed Noah. “Hold it down,” he whispered, looking around to see if anyone noticed. No one was looking their way.
“I have to get out of the castle,” Ravin said. “They’re looking for me.”
Cowley didn’t waste time asking for details or if she was sure. He only nodded. “Okay.” To Gage he said, “Go get your cloak. Hurry, but don’t look like it. Meet us behind the barracks.” Gage hurried off, and Cowley turned to the rest of the squad. “We need a diversion.”
“Got it,” Noah said, and walked away.
The rest of the squad screened Ravin with their bodies and waited. A bit later they heard shouts across the yard, over by the stables. Noah and another soldier were yelling at each other. Noah threw a punch, and the two began fighting.
“At least he’s good for something,” Strout said.
“Let’s go,” Cowley said. “Keep her in the middle.”
They headed for the barracks, Ravin concealed in their midst as much as possible. They made it around behind the barracks without difficulty. Gage was waiting there with his cloak, and Ravin put it on.
“Who’s working the north gate today?” Cowley asked.
“I’ll go check,” Lukas said, and trotted off. He was back quickly. “It’s Shinn.”
“Perfect. Spread out and run interference. Let’s move.” The squad members spread out. Only Cowley remained with Ravin. A soldier walked around the edge of the barracks and looked at them curiously. Before he could say anything or come closer for a look, Strout intercepted him. “Jarvis,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you. Come here.” He led the soldier away.
Cowley smiled at Ravin reassuringly. “This will be as easy as spending silver in a tavern,” he said softly. “You ready?” She nodded. “Come on, then. Let’s get you out of here.” He started walking, tucking his hands in his belt and whistling a little tune.
Ravin stayed close to him, her eyes moving, looking to see if anyone was watching her. She’d never felt so vulnerable, so exposed before. She’d walked around these grounds hundreds of times and never thought a thing of it. But now every step felt fraught with danger.
The first part, picking their way through scattered sheds and equipment huts, was easy. It was when they neared the gate that things got more difficult. Past the last hut there was a broad swath of open ground. Two officers were off to one side, talking, and a handful of soldiers were standing at attention nearby, waiting for orders.
“Just act like you’re supposed to be here,” Cowley said. “Don’t look at them.”
Ravin hunched deeper into Gage’s cloak and pressed close to Cowley. They stepped out into the open area and began crossing it. Ravin fought the urge to look and see if either of the officers were looking at her. With each step she expected one of them to call out, for someone to come running toward her.
There were nearly across the open area when a soldier popped out from behind a pile of hay bales and walked toward them. “Hey, Cowley,” he said as he got near. His eyes fell on Ravin, and he got a big smile on his face. “Got a new friend there?” he asked with a leer. As he spoke he was trying to look under her hood to see who it was. Ravin turned her face away and shrank deeper into the cloak.
“You know me,” Cowley replied, grinning.
“You’re unbelievable. How do you do it?”
“It’s a gift,” Cowley said, shrugging.
“You better get her out of here quick. There’s something sure enough stirring,” the soldier said, casting a glance at the officers.
“That’s what I’m trying to do if you’d quit drawing attention to us.”
“Oh. Sorry.” The soldier peeled off and walked away.
“Is this something you’ve done before, then?” Ravin asked Cowley, trying to force a smile through her nervousness.
He got a pained look on his face. “Long ago. But not anymore. I’m loyal to Amma now. You’re not going to say anything about this to her, are you?”
“I’ll try not to.”
“I guess that will have to do.”
There was only one guard at the north gate, an older man nearing retirement, with a large, bushy beard and big belly. He smiled when he saw Cowley. “Good morning to you, young master Cowley,” he said, pretending to doff his hat and bow. “What brings you over here?”
Cowley glanced around. There was no one in sight other than Wolfpack members casually closing in. “I have someone I need to get out of the castle quietly.”
Shinn’s smile disappeared, and he nodded. He peered at Ravin. She didn’t turn away from him. He’d spoken to her kindly a few times when she and Fen were heading out.
“Ah, it’s you, Fen’s lass. Ravin, is it?” She nodded. He unbarred the gate and swung it open. “Quickly now.”
Cowley followed Ravin through the gate. “You’ll forget this happened, right?” he asked Shinn.
“Forget what?” the man said, scratching his head.
“Thanks,” Cowley said.
“Don’t mention it.”
As the gate swung shut behind them, Ravin heard a shout and running footsteps. “No one is to go in or out that gate!” someone yelled.
“Now it’s time to hurry,” Cowley said. Outside the gate was a broad boulevard that followed the castle wall. They hurried across the boulevard and ducked into a narrow alleyway. “That was a little closer than I wanted,” Cowley said, once they were out of sight.
“Thank you so much,” Ravin said. “I’m sorry. I know it was a lot to ask, but I didn’t know what else to do, who else to turn to.”
He held up a hand. “Stop right there. Don’t be sorry. Fen’s my best friend. I’d do anything for him. That extends to you too.”
“You could have gotten into real trouble.”
“It was nothing. Things have been getting boring around here lately. Come on. I have a hundred questions, but we need to keep moving.” He took hold of her hand and led her deeper into the alley.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“A little place I know nearby. We’ll meet the rest of the squad there.”
They took the smaller streets, keeping their heads down. Cowley led them to a small restaurant with no sign out front, only a ceramic owl stuck on the end of a post. Inside was a small room with a bar along one side and several rickety tables. Cowley nodded to the man behind the bar and led Ravin through a narrow doorway in the back of the room, down a low-ceilinged corridor, and then back outside, into a small garden with several tables scattered about. The garden was surrounded by the high walls of the buildings on either side. There was a stout wooden gate that led back to an alley. Several large trees grew there, their limbs hanging down over the tables, providing a great deal of privacy.
They sat at a table in the corner. A waiter followed them out, and Cowley ordered a pitcher of ale and mugs. The waiter left, passing the two brothers, Wallice and Eben, on their way in. He gave them a wide berth. They sat down, nodding at Ravin, but not saying anything.
In quick succession Strout, Lukas and Gage arrived. Last to show up was Noah, who had a scratch on his cheek and a new rip in his surcoat.
Cowley turned to Ravin. “What’s going on? We’ve been hearing all kinds of crazy stories. Is it true that Fen and the Fist were down at the docks fighting with the Ankharan sorcerers?”
“It’s true,” she said, taking his arm, her voice rising in her excitement. “He’s free, and he’s alive.”
Cowley grinned and everyone, except the two brothers, started talking at once. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in days,” Cowley said.
“I told you they couldn’t kill him. This calls for a drink.” Noah splashed some ale in a mug and raised it.
“Where is he?” Lukas asked Ravin.
“I don’t know. I only know what I do because I heard Lowellin and the…and the others talking about it in the palace. Once I hear
d he was alive, I knew I had to get out of there as fast as I could.”
“That’s smart thinking,” Cowley said. “Otherwise he could grab you and use you to trap Fen.”
“He’s already looking,” Gage said. “They’re locking the castle down right now. We nearly didn’t get out in time.”
“It really was him and the Fist down at the docks,” Lukas said. “I was afraid to believe it was true.”
“I think they killed two of the sorcerers,” Ravin said. “At least, I only saw two of them this morning in the palace, and they were the two who left awhile back.”
“That must’ve been some fight,” Noah said with a dark grin. “I wish I could’ve been there. I’ve been wanting to see how their magic holds up to good old steel in the gut.”
“What about the Fist?” Lukas asked.
“I don’t know. He wasn’t with them. But I don’t think he made it.”
Cowley swore. “And now the sorcerers are going to take over. They won’t find that so easy,” he said grimly. “If they think the city is in turmoil now, just wait. People will fight.”
“There’s only two of them,” Noah said. “We’ll cut them down easy.”
“But it’s not just them,” Ravin said. “There’s Lowellin too. I think he is even more powerful than they are.”
“He doesn’t scare me,” Noah said.
“I’m not finished,” Ravin said. “There are…others.” She described the creatures she’d seen.
“What the hell are those things?” Strout said.
“I think they’re the Devourers,” Ravin replied. “The sorcerers must have succeeded in opening the portal.”
“Damn,” Gage said. It was the first time Ravin had ever heard him curse, a sure sign of how agitated he was.
“So, we got some others to fight,” Noah said, draining his ale and reaching for the pitcher. “But only three of them. No problem.”
“Right, no problem,” Strout said sarcastically. “It’s only some monsters from the Abyss, from the place where the sorcerers get their power, the same sorcerers who defeated Marad’s army easily, by the way. But no, you’re right, Noah. They’ll be no problem.”
Shadow Hunted Page 10
