From Out Of The Shadows

by Linda Mooney

  There was no merciful death here. It would be a long and excruciating torture by starvation and dehydration, unless she fell victim first to the wild animals that left the safety of the forest and ventured into the town during the night, looking for scraps.

  As the day lengthened, the two men continued to diligently build the fence that was more symbolic than functional. The structure ran all the way around her. Once the workers moved out of sight to complete the last half, Tora sought out Croat, but he was no longer standing beyond the tree line. He was gone from view, but not from her emotions. His anger remained just below the surface, simmering like a lidded pot ready to explode.

  He was planning something, and willing to risk his life to save hers. But there was no way he could defeat all of the constable’s men, especially when he wasn’t in full health, and he definitely couldn’t do it alone.

  She tried to swallow around her swollen throat, and failed. Her breath hitched in her chest. She wanted to cry, but couldn’t.

  How could Croat possibly save her? It was too risky. Somehow she needed to convince him to go back to his village. To keep his people safe, rather than risk exposure. Her life, or the lives of so many Lupanâ��why would he even consider it?

  As if in answer, she heard a howl emanate from the woods. Long, low, and plaintive, it called out, briefly rose in volume and died. Behind her, the guards paused to listen. Once the howling ceased, another howl erupted from a different part of the woods.

  Then another, to the left of them.

  Followed by another, directly behind them.

  And another. And another. And another. And another, all coming from different points just beyond the village, surrounding them throughout the forest. The sound of their combined cries was enough to raise the hair on her head in fright. People slow to leave the square suddenly scurried for the safety of their homes.

  The guards dropped what they were doing and ran off. Tora assumed they left to notify the constable.

  Then, abruptly, the howling ceased. The air grew alarmingly still.

  Scanning the tree line for any sign of him, Tora waited for what would happen next.

  It was a wait she prayed would not be a long one.

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  Chapter 21

  Basil

  The square remained empty as the day progressed. Tora faded in and out of consciousness without hearing any more of the howling. Every so often she was aware of one of the constable’s men walking the perimeter of the open area. Otherwise, things remained too still. Too silent. And it wasn’t hard to understand why. These people truly believed she was in league with evil spirits. That she communed with the damned, and somehow she had called upon those demons, which now cried out from the forest.

  When the sun started to touch the tops of the trees, Macobiak entered the square with three of his men for protection. They marched up to the edge of the roped-off area and paused, making no attempt to come any further.

  “Tora Purin.”

  If she wasn’t in such agony, Tora would have found the slight quiver in the constable’s voice amusing. Instead, she gave him a bleary stare and waited for what would come next.

  “This is merely a courtesy gesture to let you know that your home has been seized. Because you have been condemned to death, your possessions have been confiscated, and usable items distributed. Personal items that were defined as being marked by your dark magicks have been destroyed.â�� He shuffled slightly, as if he was uncertain about what he was going to say next. Tora sensed his fear rising, like a bright aura.

  “Tora Purin, we’ve discovered evidence of a second person who may have been living with you.”

  With those words, Tora’s spirits surged skyward. Then they didn’t know about Basil, which also meant they didn’t have him. He was still out there, somewhere, waiting for her. Maybe hungry, but definitely upset with her. She thought of the Meesoms, and wondered if they had hidden her brother before they had been taken prisoners by the constable.

  “We demand you tell us who that second person is, and where we can find her or him.”

  She blinked. Did the man actually believe she would tell him?

  “Don’t make this any harder on yourself,â�� the constable thinly threatened. â��Who is the other person living with you?”

  “There’s never been another person,â�� Tora rasped.

  “Then how do you explain the extra clothing, among other things?”

  “I often take in travelers who need a place to sleep for the night,â�� she said, which wasn’t a lie. There had been many nights when she’d let a stranger sleep on a pallet on the floor in front of the fire. People she’d sensed wouldn’t harm her or Basil, but who didn’t have enough money to stay at an inn. People who would have been forced to find a barn or tall tree, like she had made suffice for herself on many occasions in the past.

  “They sometimes left clothing behind, or paid me with a pair of socks, or whatever they could.”

  Macobiak snorted. â��You mean, people you converted to aid in your evil arts, then sent on their way to spread your darkness to other innocent victims in other towns?”

  Tora let her head fall forward in defeat. It didn’t matter what she said. It would always end up being twisted around to fit the constable’s scheme of things. Just as he had convinced the â��witnessesâ�� that what they had encountered had been caused by her dabbling in the dark magicks.

  A man on foot suddenly burst from the woods and hurried into the main square. He was panting heavily. She vaguely recognized him as one of the villagers.

  Macobiak and his men went over to where he was bent over and gasping for breath. Only the baron had horses to carry himself and his men from one place to another. Unless the village employed a wagon, or could afford another form of conveyance, all messages were sent or delivered from one village to another on foot.

  “The baron…message from Baron…Agrino.”

  The constable and his men patiently waited for the man to continue.

  “He said…to keep…the Sensitive alive…until he sends…for her.”

  Keep the Sensitive alive. Being part of the baron’s holdings, of course Macobiak and Tusshion had sent notification of any accusations or trials held in the village. It was a mandate no one could ignore, no matter who they were. Everyone who lived under the baron’s banner was one of his subjects, and everything pertaining to his subjects had to be reported.

  If the baron had been aware of the fact that she was a Sensitive before she had been thrown in his dungeon, Tora knew she wouldn’t have been treated so shabbily. But now the knowledge had been made public, and it was only a matter of time before she was hauled off to Agrino’s castle.

  Keep the Sensitive alive. She wondered how long it would take the baron to lay claim to her. Apparently, the constable wondered the same thing.

  “Will someone be coming for her?”

  “Tomorrow morning,â�� the messenger said. â��Baron Agrino is sending a squad out before dawn.”

  Then he would be arriving at the village a little after the sun rose. Tora steeled herself for what she might have to face, and instantly she was overwhelmed by a feeling of protectiveness.

  Croat, Croat, yes, you want to help me, but how can you expect to overtake the baron’s men? They have guns. And we barely made it out alive the last time we faced them!

  He wouldn’t be able to read her thoughts. No more than she could read his. But he would be able to grasp the extent of her worry.

  Thigh and calf muscles spasmed in her legs. For the past few hours, she’d been forced to place her weight on one leg at a time. It wouldn’t be long before that would no longer alleviate the constant ache. If there was any bright spot to the news that the baron was coming for her, it was that her time at the pole was coming to an end.

  She never heard the constable give the order to his man. All she knew was that he suddenly appeared in front of her with a mug. A
drop of water ran down the carved, wooden side. Almost instinctively, she lapped at the droplet like an animal.

  “The constable has ordered you be given water, but that’s all,â�� the man said. It was obvious by his tone alone that he detested having to be the one to bring her the mug, much less give her this meager sustenance.

  Still, he managed to let her drink slowly, tipping the mug until she got the last swallow. But then he hurried away before she could thank him.

  The water was pure manna. It flowed through her blood and seeped into her bones, giving her a little more strength to endure these next few hours until the baron’s arrival. Tora sighed and tried to get some rest. As she started to nod off, soft, sensuous, emotional fingers wrapped around her heart, cradling it. She had to smile, despite everything else.

  Once night fell, the wind picked up, blowing a last gusty chill through the village. Since the trial, no one other than the constable and his men ventured into the open area. She wouldn’t be surprised if the villagers had been ordered to remain in their homes until notified they could come out again.

  Shame.

  By now the wind was blowing steadily. Not quite gale force, but strong enough to keep her pressed against the pole at her back. Her tattered skirt and blouse whipped around her, leaving her skin numb from the cold. A storm was approaching. The tang of rain was in the air. One of Macobiak’s lackeys came to give her another mug of water, but no food. Water they could make themselves give her, but anything more substantial was too much. The baron knew how far he could push these people. He knew how badly he could treat them, bully them, threaten them, and terrorize them. Once Tora was identified as a Sensitive, he also knew no one would want to go anywhere near her if there was the chance they could touch her.

  No matter how much she tried to deny their claim, there was no way she would be able to convince these people that their touching her did not connect them to her. She would have to do the touching, and she would have to want to make the connection. An accidental brush against someone wouldn’t incur anything, either.

  The thought of touching reminded her of her wax-coated hands. She had lost all feeling in her arms and hands long ago. But the punishment hadn’t nullified her abilities. Nor had their cruelty affected her Sensitive powers. Anywhere her bare skin could touch their bare skin would enable her to read them if she wanted to.

  The darkness deepened around her. The faint glow of lights shining through the windows of homes and cottages lining the outer edge of the market square reminded Tora of similar nights when she and Basil would retreat to the warmth and safety of their own little place. To a supper cooked over the open flames of their fireplace, and then to a shared pallet in front of it because their abode had just the one tiny room.

  But poverty had never bothered them. Other than a couple changes of clothing, they had no personal possessions. As long as there was enough to eat, they could always find a lean-to, or someplace that would provide them safety from the more dangerous animals which hunted at night.

  A gust of wind wiped the tears from her face with a chilly hand. She would never stop worrying about Basil until she either found him, or found out what had happened to him. He was all the family she had left.

  Engrossed in her worry for her brother, Tora was unaware of her visitor until his big, warm body suddenly trapped her between himself and the pole. A large, human hand cupped the entire side of her face, and a voice she barely recognized whispered, â��Just answer me one question.”

  His touch was overwhelming. At no time had her mother explained that a connection between a Sensitive and her life partner would become a two-way thing. At that moment, when it was taking all of her strength to keep herself conscious, it was Croat who was feeding her with his own emotional power, helping her survive, making her feel alive and sane.

  His body was like the sun, pouring warmth and energy into every dark crevasse in her withered psyche. It signaled a promise, beckoning and pleading for her to relent in order for him to claim her. She could feel herself trying to answer his silent, primitive call. It was a call she couldn’t explain or identify, yet she realized it was provoking something new from her. A new and different kind of feeling she’d never experienced before in her life.

  Raising her eyes, she stared into the shadowy darkness, into his human visage and his almost inhuman beauty, and into eyes that would never change color, no matter what he claimed.

  “Hello, pumpkin eyes.”

  His smile reached down and touched her soul. â��Do you have the power to make me fall in love with you?”

  “No. I never did.”

  Tora opened herself up to him, allowing him to glimpse into her past, her present, and the absolute truth about her kind. She no longer cared what he might think. It took him a moment before he fully understood.

  “That’s what I thought,â�� he said, and kissed her.

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  Chapter 22

  Ambush

  All during the trial, Croat had done everything he could to shield Tora from his anger, and keep it from overwhelming them both. He knew he had a fast, hot temper, but Tora didn’t need to feel the brunt of it. Patiently, he had funneled the anger that kept boiling inside him toward those responsible for her abuse.

  Patience had never been one of his strong points.

  Not long before they met up with Mengar, Croat had felt Tora awakening. He had become aware of her agony, and that knowledge, along with Mengar’s description of her torture, had given him an extra boost of strength, enough to manage the rest of the way to the village.

  All during their journey, Croat had felt himself emotionally â��talkingâ�� to her, sensing her responses rather than hearing them. He tried to send her hope, and give her whatever support he could to help lessen her pain. Their connection no longer bothered him. Nor did it seem unusual. In fact, it felt as natural as breathing.

  At his men’s urging, once they’d reached the outskirts of Neabush, he had rested throughout the day, and allowed them to go off one at a time to hunt for food, which they would bring back to share with the rest. He had to force himself to eat, even when he knew Tora was slowly dying from dehydration and starvation.

  It was a little after midday when he was recovered enough to shift back to his human form. If it became necessary to step forward to protect her, he could do so without causing panic or fear. He only hoped she would recognize him. Somehow, he knew she would.

  Their plan was to take Tora and her brother back with them. It was a plan that had fallen to the wayside the moment Osanis mentioned the fact that she was chained to the pole, rather than tied. Rope they could cut through with no effort with their Lupan claws, but the metal cuffs would need a key. And they didn’t have the faintest idea of who had it, or where it could be found.

  Fortunately, Goldon spotted the runner coming from the direction of the baron’s castle. After overhearing the baron’s proclamation, he hurried to tell Croat and the others.

  “They’re going to have to keep her alive until the baron sends a squad to retrieve her.”

  “Which means they’ll have to make sure she survives the night,â�� Mengar noted.

  Croat nodded. â��Then our new strategy is clear. Since we can’t take down the chains or unlock her from those cuffs, we’ll have to wait until the baron’s men arrive to claim her.”

  “And ambush them once they’re on their way?â�� Voldivar surmised.

  “Ambush…and kill. There can be no survivors left to inform the baron that the Sensitive and Lupan are working together.”

  Looking at his men, Croat could see them react silently in agreement. It wasn’t the first time they had faced a small group of the baron’s army. Neither would it be the last.

  As dusk descended, Croat’s men took their positions surrounding the village. It was a tactical, defensive strategy. If anything dangerous should approach Neabush while they waited for their chance to rescue Tora, the
warning call would go out. More importantly, it gave the Lupan the opportunity to play on the villagers� fear.

  Croat watched as Tora suffered, and cursed himself for allowing her to leave him in the first place. He should have known. He should have realized that what he felt for her was not caused by any supernatural or evil power. But it was too easy to blame these feelings on something other than what they really were. It was too simple an explanation to say Tora’s Sensitive abilities had made him care about her and about her welfare. When, in fact, the truth was undeniable.

  He had fallen in love with her.

  If there was one thing a Sensitive could never be, it was deceitful or manipulative. He understood deep in his heart that she would never be unfaithful, unkind, or in any way deliberately hurt him or anyone she cared for.

  Tora’s gentle nature was true to her kind. She honestly could not allow herself to walk past someone who was suffering without checking first to see if she could lend them aide. Or, at the very least, a small amount of respite from their pain.

  Tora could no more ignore him in his agony after his brutal beating by the baron’s men than she could stop breathing. Regardless of what he looked like, no matter how frightening or horrendous he appeared in his Lupan form, Croat knew that eventually she would have crawled over to help him. Sooner or later, she would have made her way to his side of that dank cell and touched him. Because she had to. Because she needed to.

  Still, he wanted to hear the words come directly from her. He wanted to hear her tell him that the connection that had formed between them had not been so much her doing, as much as it had been caused by Fate. Decreed by their destinies now coming together and entwining.

  Deelaht knew that and had tried to tell him, but he had dismissed his grandmother again, just as he had done countless times in the past, only to go back and apologize for his actions. Just as he would have to do again. I owe you another one.