Slight and Shadow (Fate's Forsaken: Book Two)

by Ford, Shae

  The horses must’ve been able to smell the predator on her: they galloped away as she walked towards them, their eyes rolling back in terror. Every horse fled for the other side of the pen — save for one.

  He had a dapple-gray coat and his mane was cut short. His tail swished in interest, and his brown eyes stayed on the apple. Slowly, he began to walk forward, lumbering on his stocky legs towards Kyleigh. When he reached her, he sniffed her hand in greeting. Then she offered him a bite of the apple.

  At Kyleigh’s gesture, Elena climbed over the fence and went to join her. She fed the horse the remainder of the apple, stroking him tentatively between the ears. Her dark eyes betrayed nothing, and her glare never wavered. So Kael was rather surprised when she said:

  “This one. I choose him.”

  “Him?” Declan glanced at the horse. “But he’s a farm horse. He’s bred to pull a plow — not to go on travels. I don’t want to cheat you. There are other, far grander creatures out here.”

  “Though none braver,” Kyleigh mused.

  Elena ran her hand down the horse’s dappled neck. “Braver …” she whispered. Then she grabbed either side of his long face and put her chin to his nose. “What do you say then, Braver? Do you want to go on an adventure?”

  He snorted in reply.

  Chapter 47

  An Unexpected Thing

  By evening, the giants had finished taking care of the dead. They piled the bloodtraitors’ carcasses in an empty plot of grass and burned them.

  “We’ll leave no trace of their evil behind,” Brend murmured as he watched the fire consume their bodies. He reached over to Declan — who stared with a thick shadow covering his eyes. His shoulders rocked when Brend clasped them, but he made no move to shrug him off. “And those we’ve lost … well, they’ll rest all the more peaceful for it. Let’s leave this filth to their flame, and give our brothers one last goodbye.”

  They’d buried the pirates and the giants on either side of the road leading up to the castle. Inside one of the damp chambers, they’d found the sapling trees that D’Mere had brought for Lord Gilderick. Some of them were large enough that they already bore fruit, while others were only just starting their leaves.

  They planted the trees along the graves, and Brend said they would honor the dead better than any stone marker. “They’ll live on in every blossom, in every gift of fruit. We’ll hear their whispers in the leaves … and so our brothers will never be forgotten.”

  Lysander collected the sheaths from the fallen pirates’ swords — while the blades themselves he arranged over their cold chests. He said a few words to each of them, called them by name, and promised he would carry their stories to their families. Though his stormy eyes burned a little redder with every sheath he retrieved, he managed to keep his voice steady …

  Until he came to Noah.

  Kael looked away as they wrapped his body in white cloth. He didn’t want to see Noah as a mask: he wanted to remember him as the boy he was. Lysander took Noah’s sheath and watched in silence as the giants laid him to rest. There was a peach tree planted over his grave, and a small handful of fruit hung in its leaves.

  “What’ll you do with the sheath?” Declan said to Lysander — who had his arms crossed stubbornly over his chest.

  Aerilyn was already crying. She sobbed quietly into the front of Kyleigh’s jerkin, and the noise of her tears was making it all the more difficult for Lysander to keep his at bay.

  “I’ll bring it to his mother,” he finally said. “She’ll want to hear about the brave thing Noah did.”

  Declan’s eyes went to the sheath. “That’s a sorry gift for a mother.”

  “Well, it’s the best I’ve got,” Lysander snapped.

  Declan said nothing. Instead, he reached into the tree and grabbed a peach off of one of the limbs. He stared at it for a moment before he stuffed it into his pocket.

  “He was a good pirate,” Lysander went on. He scowled furiously at the tree, gripping the sheath so tightly that the leather groaned between his hands. “Noah deserved to be buried at sea.”

  Brend gathered Lysander under his arm, crushing him against his chest — though oddly enough, he didn’t try to wriggle free. “We’ll take good care of him, Captain,” Brend said quietly.

  Lysander nodded, but his eyes stayed on the grave. Kael was beginning to think that the darkness might never leave his stare when Kyleigh spoke:

  “Well, I think we could all use some good news.” She glanced down at Aerilyn, who looked confused beneath her tears.

  “News? What sort of news?”

  Kyleigh’s brows lifted in surprise, and her face turned slightly pink — something it never did. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew …”

  Aerilyn pulled away from her. Her blue eyes were wide with worry as she clutched at the curls of her hair. “Knew what? Oh, please tell me what it is — whatever it is! I don’t think I could bear any more shocks. My stomach’s already twisting.”

  Kyleigh’s face went pinker. She glanced at the man named Silas — who made a frustrated sound. “Of course she knows,” he hissed. “She must know. How can you not feel that little thing scratching around inside of you?” He said to Aerilyn, looking pointedly at her belly. “It’s no wonder your stomach feels twisty —”

  She squealed, and Silas leapt back in fright. He clamped a hand over his ears and glared as Aerilyn threw herself on Kyleigh.

  “It’s true, I’m afraid,” Kyleigh said with a laugh. “I thought you knew —”

  “I had no idea.” Aerilyn clutched her hands to her chest, an excited smile broke across her lips. “But I suppose it makes sense. I have been feeling rather odd, lately. But I just thought … oh!” She spun to Lysander, her eyes sparkling, and said: “Isn’t this exciting? Aren’t you thrilled?”

  Lysander looked as if he’d just been slapped in the face with a troll’s stocking, and therefore didn’t know how to feel about it. “What in high tide is going on? Have you been ill?” he said, stepping up to her.

  She nodded. “I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew you’d only send me back —”

  “Blasted right, I would!” Lysander stormed, grabbing her hands. “I won’t stand by and let you shrivel away —”

  “I thought it was only nerves — but it turns out —”

  “— you’ll march right back to the ship this instant —”

  “— I’m pregnant.”

  “No wife of mine — what?” Lysander’s chin nearly hit his chest as his mouth dropped open. “Did you just say what I think you said?” When Aerilyn nodded, he looked down at her middle. “You mean you’re … we’re?”

  She nodded again, and he stared at her for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then quite suddenly, he snatched her up.

  “We’re going to have a baby!” he cried, spinning her around in a circle. “I’m going to be a father!”

  Aerilyn slapped him across the head. “Put me down, you impossible pirate!”

  Neither one of them seemed able to stop grinning. They held each other tightly, and their laughter lightened Kael’s steps as they headed back to the barns.

  For their gift, Kyleigh, Eveningwing, and Silas had asked for a feast — a dinner where they could eat their fill of meat. And the giants had been only too happy to oblige: they dragged tables from the castle out into the Fields, raided Gilderick’s cellars, and left some of their fattest animals in the hands of the lady giants.

  Now smoke trailed from the kitchen tower as they worked. One giantess passed them with a massive platter of food in her hands — and normally, Kael would’ve followed right after her. But tonight, not even the scents wafting off the warm breads or crackling meats could enchant him. His heart was filled with darker things.

  Brend’s arm fell across his shoulders, jolting him from his thoughts. “I’ve only got one debt left to settle, then — the debt I owe my favorite little mountain rat. So, what’ll it be?” His eyes glinted as he smiled down, and while there was a b
it of sharpness left in them, they were mostly soft. “Speak up, now! Nothing you ask will be too great a thing.”

  For half a breath, Kael’s thoughts trailed to Tinnark — to Amos, to Roland, to all of the other villagers who must still be trapped under Titus’s hand. If he had the giants on his side, he could free them. No army of men could stand against the giants’ fury. And if he asked, they would follow him without thinking.

  But thinking was precisely the thing that killed the question on his lips.

  Kael saw the many faces he’d passed, lying cold and lifeless on the battlefield … and he couldn’t forget them. They’d been carved into the backs of his eyes — even when he closed them, he could still see the emptiness in their stares. The seas were free, the plains were free, the slave trade was ended. If he asked for nothing more, these men could go on to live a life without chains. They could rebuild their homes and raise their children. They could heal, and they could be happy.

  But if Kael led them into the mountains … they might never have that chance. Some might die, frozen and alone in a strange land. While others, like Thelred, might be forced to live with the wounds for the rest of their days.

  If Kael asked them to fight, he would steal the happiness from them. And could he bear that weight upon his shoulders? Could he ask his friends to risk their futures in a battle for the mountains — for a land that nobody else cared about? And could he live on, knowing that he’d been responsible for their deaths?

  No … no, he couldn’t. And he wouldn’t. In fact, he refused to. He still planned to fight for the mountains — but he planned to do it alone.

  So he forced himself to smile up at Brend and say: “To know that I have friends in the plains is gift enough.” Lysander elbowed him, but he ignored it. “And if I ever find myself in need of friends, I’ll be sure to think of the giants.”

  With that, he shrugged out from under Brend’s arm and began to walk away. Lysander grabbed him by the back of the shirt.

  “Oh no, you don’t. I won’t let you do this — you’ve fought too hard to turn back now. If you won’t speak for yourself, then I’ll speak for you,” he warned, a flinty determination in his stare.

  Kael shrugged. “Tell him, then. But it won’t change my mind.”

  This seemed to shock Lysander enough to loosen his grip, and Kael slipped out of his hold. As he walked towards the barns, he could hear Lysander starting in on a tale — beginning with the moment Kael had first stepped aboard Anchorgloam. He had no idea how Lysander would tell his story, though he imagined a good deal of the facts would be lost in the telling. So much had happened that he hadn’t meant to; too much of his life had been left to Fate. But that didn’t matter, anymore.

  All that mattered now was the ending, and Kael intended to write it for himself — starting tonight. He wouldn’t leave his fate to chance. He would do what had to be done … and he would say what had to be said.

  *******

  Kyleigh watched him walk away. There was a determination in Kael’s steps that she recognized immediately: the way he lifted his feet was practiced and careful, and he brought them down firmly. He was thinking hard about something — and she wondered what it was. She was about to follow him when she felt Silas’s elbow nudge her ribs.

  She followed his gaze to the road, where Elena already had Braver saddled and packed. The giants had given her so much food for her journey that the sides bulged out of the bags. It was obvious that she’d been meaning to slip out quietly, but Jake had caught her.

  Now they stood together, talking about something. Kyleigh could see the slump of Jake’s shoulders and the sharp tilt of Elena’s chin. They spoke for only a moment, and then Elena reached behind her and pressed some object into Jake’s hand.

  Without a second glance, she leapt astride Braver and nudged him into a trot. It wasn’t long before they were little more than a smudge in the distance. But Jake never moved: he stared after them, clutching whatever it was that Elena had given him.

  “Come on, dragoness,” Silas whispered. “Our shaman needs us.”

  When they arrived, they saw that Jake’s face was empty and his stare was hollow. He looked like a man that hadn’t slept for weeks. And while he probably was exhausted, Kyleigh thought that might’ve only been part of it.

  She stood on one side of him, and Silas stood on the other — as if they could somehow hold him up. They said nothing for a moment, waiting in the quiet of dusk for Jake to speak.

  “She gave me her gloves,” he finally said, holding them out to Kyleigh. “I’m not sure what I should do with them.”

  She closed his fingers around the soft, black leather. “Hold onto them, for now. And when it’s ready, I expect your heart will tell you what to do.”

  Jake nodded. Then he stuffed the gloves rather glumly into the folds of his robe.

  Silas made an attempt to pat him on the back, but he kept his fingers so stiff that it looked more like he was trying to crush a spider than be comforting. “We should go eat some food — that will cheer you up.”

  “No, that will cheer you up,” Jake said with a sigh. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Nonsense.” Kyleigh wrapped an arm about his middle. “You just need to drown your sorrows in a feast. I saw an enormous cake go by a few minutes ago. I swear it must’ve been four tiers high — covered in sugar and strawberries. What could be more cheerful than that?”

  They steered Jake into the courtyard and got him settled at their table. It wasn’t long before a nearby giantess spotted him, and she was so shocked by the thinness of his limbs that she made it her personal duty to keep his plate filled at all times.

  Other giants crowded in around him, eager to hear his stories and learn more about magic. Jake got so caught up in teaching them that he seemed to forget his troubles. It wasn’t long before he was deep into an explanation about why it was such a difficult feat to turn a man into a frog, and a small smile bent his lips.

  One of the giants carried Thelred out of the stalls and settled him at a makeshift picnic in the courtyard. They leaned him back against a wall and propped the bandaged stump of his leg on a mountain of bedding, where it could breathe.

  He had a steady stream of visitors, including Morris — who promised him that missing a limb wasn’t all that bad a thing. “Believe me, lad, there’s worse things than missing a leg. At least you’ll be able to button your own trousers!”

  Uncle Martin certainly did his part to be comforting. He never once left Thelred’s side, and talked animatedly throughout the night: about how happy he was that Thelred would have more time to help him brew his grogs, and how he intended to get them a matching set of canes.

  “You aren’t helping things, father,” Thelred grumbled at him.

  But Uncle Martin seemed to be helping quite a lot: it wasn’t long before a small crowd of lady giants joined them at the picnic, drawn in by his antics. They laughed at Uncle Martin’s jokes and fussed over Thelred — whose grumpiness melted a bit under their care.

  Across the courtyard, Lysander and Aerilyn sat with Brend. The Prince used one hand to eat, but the other he kept twined in Darrah’s. Her face glowed, and she kept an arm resting happily across her belly as she listened to Lysander’s tales.

  It made Kyleigh smile to think that Darrah’s child would grow up freely, and with the protection of a Prince. She didn’t know Brend very well, but she could feel the love he had for his people — and she knew he would love Darrah’s child as his own.

  Lysander chattered on, asking the giants all manner of questions, but Aerilyn seemed more occupied with what was happening on the other side of the table — where Jonathan and Clairy sat together. Or rather, Jonathan sat in Clairy’s lap, and they spent a great deal more of their time kissing than eating.

  Aerilyn watched them with her hands stuck to either side of her face, as if she’d just had a great shock. Kyleigh could read her lips clearly as she muttered to herself:

  Oh, dear … oh, dear.


  Not long ago, Kyleigh would’ve agreed. But now, she found that she envied them. It must be nice to be able to kiss whoever they pleased. She would’ve given anything to be able to behave so foolishly.

  Kyleigh looked away before she could think too much about it, and tried to distract herself with the company of her own benchmates.

  Silas and Eveningwing sat on either side of her, gorging themselves on meat. It came in nearly every form they could think of: in legs, wings, slabs, and even wholes. A giantess set an entire roasted hog down in front of them, and when Silas cracked it open, he moaned.

  “How do they do it?” He tore off a hunk of flesh and deposited it directly into his mouth. His eyes rolled back as he chewed. “It sings to me!”

  Eveningwing snatched a slab of beef from a towering pile and stuck it onto his plate. He held the slab down with either hand, as if he was trying to keep it from running away. His head shot down with lightening quickness, and he ripped a thick chunk of meat from the slab with his teeth. Then he slung his head about — showering them all with splatters of grease.

  “For the last time: you don’t have to do that,” Silas grumped at him, wiping the grease from his eyes. “Your prey is already dead, and the blood is cooked out of it!”

  Eveningwing looked up at him sheepishly. “Sorry. I forget,” he said around a thick mouthful of meat. “I’m still learning my human manners.”

  Kyleigh had been forced to behave properly for so long that it was actually rather nice to be able to sit down and eat with people who wouldn’t wrinkle their noses at her. There would be plenty of time for manners, later.

  She grabbed the leg off a nearby chicken and raised it over her head. “To victory!”

  Silas joined her with a chain of sausages. “To food!”

  They looked at Eveningwing, who still had his face buried in his meal. “Oh.” He quickly grabbed the mangled strip of beef off his plate and held it up. “Yes — to both!”

  Then they went back to their feasting. Kyleigh had just torn off a rather large bite when she felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned, and nearly choked when she saw Kael staring back at her.