Empire of Night

by Kelley Armstrong

  Instead, he exhaled, the sound sliding through the silence.

  "I've found you," he said.

  "And you will un-find me," Moria said, raising her dagger. "You will walk away or I will throw this. You know I will."

  "I--"

  "Did you not tell me once that daggers were an inferior weapon? In close combat, yes. But from ten paces? You will be dead before you reach me, Kitsune."

  "I'm not trying . . ." He extinguished his fingers with a wave, but not before she saw his face, tight and glittering with sweat. "I'm going to come closer, so no one overhears us. I will keep some distance."

  She let him get two arm lengths away, then stopped him with a flourish of her dagger.

  "I won't attack you, Keeper. But you cannot escape. You absolutely cannot."

  "No? I suppose you'll tell me your father has the forest filled with monsters and--"

  "I misspoke. I do not mean you are unable to escape. I mean you must not." He took a step toward her. "I talked to my father after Lord Tanuki made those remarks. You cannot return to the imperial city or they'll exile you as a traitor. Perhaps worse, as there is no forest to exile you to."

  "Traitor?" She laughed. "You'll have to do better--"

  "They say you betrayed Tyrus. That you seduced and counseled him to lead his men to slaughter and turn his back on a town under siege. They blame you for the massacre at Fairview and the death of Tyrus's men. They say you are my lover and you betrayed the empire for me."

  "Do they truly? My, that is a terrible story, and I thank you, Lord Gavril, for warning me before I escaped. Please take me back to my cell. Or perhaps, to be safe, return me to the dungeons."

  Even through the darkness she could see his mouth tighten. "You aren't taking me seriously, Keeper."

  "Because you've made it clear exactly how low an opinion you have of my intelligence, Kitsune."

  "I only said that because--" He bit the sentence off. "You don't need to return to your cell. We'll make other arrangements. I can insist that because we are betrothed, you must be given quarters. Your own quarters. My father cannot ask you to share mine before the wedding, which will never--"

  "You're stalling until someone hears us. I'm leaving, and if you try to stop me . . ." As she let the threat hang, she caught a glimpse of a low-slung, dark shape on the rooftop. It almost looked like . . . No, it was gone now. A trick of the moonlight.

  "Blast it, Keeper. Listen to me--"

  "I will not. You always were a terrible teller of stories. Your skill has not improved. I have the advantage here, and you are resorting to lies to convince me to stay and save yourself from any punishment. Hopefully your father will realize my escape wasn't your fault--"

  "Of course it was my fault," he snapped. "Who do you think secreted that blade into your cell? Who let you go out on walks, accompanied by an idiot and a smitten young warrior? Who let you hear him complain about poor security in the north end of the compound? I orchestrated your escape, Moria."

  She hesitated. He relaxed, but she was only thinking it through, and after a moment, she said, "You orchestrated it to be rid of me. You resented the obligation and responsibility. But now you've had second thoughts. Perhaps your father said he suspects something and--"

  "By the ancestors," he said through clenched teeth. "You give me no quarter, Keeper. No matter what I say--"

  "I think it a lie. Why ever would I do that? Oh, yes, because you have done nothing but lie and betray me. You pretended to be my ally, after you had murdered my entire--"

  "I murdered no one."

  "Does that absolve you of guilt, then? If you only assisted your father in unleashing shadow stalkers--"

  "I did not, Moria," he said, taking a step toward her. "I killed no one. I had no idea what my father planned. When you told me the village had been massacred, I refused to believe you. Why would I argue if I knew it to be true? You were there when I saw it. You saw my reaction. I did not know."

  "You admitted to it."

  "I admitted to doing whatever you thought I'd done, because it was safer for both of us. But I will deny that I ever said I played a role in the massacre of your village or the death of your father. I cannot explain now--"

  "You cannot explain at all."

  He ground his teeth, green eyes burning as he took another step her way. "You believe not a word I tell you? After all we've been through?"

  "Correct. After all we've been through, I will not believe a word you tell me. After you betrayed me. Threatened me. Left me in a dungeon. Showed not one iota of kindness or sympathy. You refused to even tell me if Daigo lived."

  "Not in front of my father," he said, moving forward. "But I did tell you, Keeper. I gave you--"

  "Stop," she said, lifting her dagger. "If you take another step toward me--"

  He raised his hand, and in it she saw his sword. She pulled back her dagger, but he was too close for her to throw it. Then his blade was at her throat.

  Fury and rage surged, so hot and sudden that for a moment, she thought he'd driven that blade into her throat.

  "You tricked me."

  "I'm only trying--"

  "You would do and say anything to keep me from escaping."

  "No, Moria. I would do and say anything to keep you from running back to the imperial city and being branded a traitor. But what I said is true and--"

  A black shape dropped from above, knocking Gavril away, his sword swinging on the new target, only to see what he was aiming at and stop short. Daigo stood between them, his yellow eyes fixed on Gavril, his fur on end as he snarled. Moria stared.

  Was she asleep? First, she'd escaped with ease. Then Gavril had told her he didn't help massacre her village. Now Daigo was here, improbably and impossibly. She was dreaming. She must be.

  "Daigo . . ." Gavril said, his voice low. "I wasn't trying to hurt her."

  "No, you only had a blade at my throat."

  "Because it's the only blasted way to stop you from racing off to your death. Daigo--"

  "He's a beast. He doesn't understand you."

  "He understands me as well as you do, and listens as well, too, which is somewhere between a little and none at all. I'm no threat to her, Daigo. I never was. But she cannot leave--"

  Moria ran for the barrier. Behind her, Gavril let out a soft shout and Daigo answered with a snarl, and she glanced back, dagger raised, ready to throw it if he had his blade drawn on her wildcat, but they only faced off, Daigo blocking his way, Gavril gripping his sword at his side and snarling something back at the wildcat.

  Moria reached the barrier. She leaped onto it easily, swinging herself up until she was on the top. Then she turned.

  "Daigo!" she called as loudly as she dared.

  The wildcat wheeled and ran toward her. Gavril did, too, sword still in hand, falling steadily behind as Daigo raced full-out.

  "Don't do this, Keeper," Gavril called.

  "I'll remember what you said, and I'll not present myself at court until I know the truth."

  "It doesn't matter. You're still in danger. If you're out there, they'll find--"

  She jumped down as Daigo sailed clear over the barrier.

  "Keeper!" Gavril said from the other side, still running, footsteps pounding. "Moria! Do not do this."

  She looked out at the forest. Then she ran toward it with Daigo at her side, Gavril calling behind her until she was too far away to hear him.

  FORTY-FOUR

  Moria ran through the forest following Daigo, leaping over logs and skirting fallen trees until she ran right into him as he stood there, peering into the darkness. He stayed stock-still, only his tufted ears moving, pivoting until he heard what he was searching for--the sound of pursuit, she presumed. Then he took off again. She managed to keep pace until she heard the sound of running footfalls and stopped short. They were heading toward the footfalls.

  "Daigo . . ."

  He stopped.

  "I hope you know who that is," she said.

  He hu
ffed, as if offended she'd question him. Moria still lifted her dagger, poised, watching in the direction of the footfalls until a cloaked figure appeared. It peered into the darkness.

  "Moria?"

  She heard that voice, and she raced forward, Daigo barely getting out of her way in time. Even before the figure pulled down his hood, she knew who it was. She tucked away her dagger as she ran, and when she finally reached him, she threw her arms around his neck. He caught her up in a hug, swinging her off the ground and embracing her so hard she gasped for breath, gasping and laughing, tears prickling as relief washed through her.

  "You're all right?" Tyrus hugged her so tight she couldn't back up to look at him, and had to settle for nodding into his shoulder. She tried to say yes, but the word caught in her throat.

  He released his grip, and as she pulled back to look at him, those threatening tears filled her eyes and his face wobbled in front of her.

  "I didn't know," she said. "They wouldn't tell me . . . No one would tell me if you were . . ."

  She couldn't get the rest out. So she kissed him, which seemed a perfectly reasonable alternative to speaking.

  He kissed her back, deep and hard, his arms tightening around her again, and it was the kiss she'd barely dared to remember, lying in her cell, not knowing if he lived. It was the same . . . yet not the same.

  The first time, if someone had suggested she'd been holding back, she'd have drawn her dagger at the insult. No matter what Tyrus said, she'd been certain no part of her had not been fully engaged, not fully committed to being with him.

  But he'd been right. There had been a ghost between them, a little part of her still hurt and bewildered by Gavril's betrayal, still thinking he had some excuse, and even though she had hotly denied any romantic feelings for him, there'd been some confusion there, that part that hadn't quite figured out what she did feel. Now it was gone.

  Gavril had done what she suspected and, worse, had been willing to lie about it to lure her back into captivity. He was nothing more now than a reminder of how easy it was for some to deceive and how easy it was to be deceived.

  Everything she'd felt during her imprisonment--fear, shame, rage, helplessness--evaporated in Tyrus's kiss and his embrace. He was here. He was alive. She was free. Perhaps that did not mean the world was right again, but it was right enough.

  Unfortunately, one member of their party did not share her conviction. It was a gentle nudge at first. Then a growl. Then a knock, hard enough to make them both stumble, their kiss breaking.

  "Enough, Daigo," Tyrus said with a growl of his own. He reached one hand into Moria's hair, pulling her to him, his lips coming back to hers. "We'll leave in a few--"

  Daigo grabbed Tyrus's cloak and yanked him so hard he landed on his rear. Tyrus twisted up, growling in earnest now, and Moria had to laugh at the two of them, scowling at each other.

  "He's jealous," Tyrus said as he got to his feet, brushing himself off.

  Daigo snorted and rolled his eyes.

  "Are, too," Tyrus said. "I'll wager your greeting wasn't nearly so effusive."

  "Because I already knew he lived," Moria said. "And because he doesn't kiss half as well as you."

  Tyrus laughed. "He is right, though, as much as I hate to admit it. We ought to get moving."

  "Is Ashyn nearby?" Moria asked as she took out her own blade.

  Tyrus shook his head. "She left with Ronan to check on his brother and sister. They'll meet us near the compound of Lord Goro Okami. It's . . . It's a long story."

  "But she's safe?"

  He nodded. "She's with Ronan. I was at Lord Okami's the day before last to speak to him. His men will be watching for her. With any luck, she's already there."

  Moria peered into the forest. "So you're alone?"

  Daigo growled.

  "I meant the two of you, of course," she said, giving the wildcat a look. Then she turned to Tyrus. "Thank you for taking care of him."

  Another growl from Daigo.

  Moria rolled her eyes. "Thank you for taking care of each other."

  Tyrus grinned and leaned in for a quick kiss. "And thank you for getting yourself out of there. The ancestors were smiling on us today, because I had no idea how I was going to manage the actual rescue part of my rescue plan. I'm sure Daigo didn't either, however much he might like to claim otherwise. Now, let's get out of this forest before someone sounds the alarm."

  "Did anyone see you leave?" Tyrus asked as they walked.

  "Gavril."

  Tyrus's face tightened. He tried to hide the reaction, but Moria caught a glimpse of it before he said, carefully, "So he helped you escape, then."

  "Hardly. He was trying to stop me."

  A flutter of relief, followed by a flash of guilt and then worry and finally something like disappointment. As a romantic rival, he would want Gavril kicked from Moria's mind. But Gavril was more than that. He was a boyhood friend, and Tyrus still hoped for some sign that the Gavril he remembered lived, that he'd not lost his honor, not betrayed them and held Moria captive.

  "We'll speak of that later," she said, taking Tyrus's hand and entwining her fingers with his. "For now, I'm not surprised we haven't heard him raise the alarm. He'll not want his father to think he let me escape. He'll pretend he was occupied and did not see what happened."

  "Does he fear his father?" Tyrus asked. "Perhaps that's why--" He cut himself off. "I'm sorry."

  She tightened her grip on his hand. "I know. It would be easier to think he's held there, as much a prisoner as I was. But he's not, Tyrus. I'm sorry. We'll talk more later, but Gavril isn't cowering in his father's shadow. He's free to come and go, and he chooses to stay and play his role--as heir--in his father's plan."

  Tyrus nodded. "As he must." And that, Moria knew, was how he would make sense of this. Gavril was doing his filial duty. It did not make him a good person or mean that he was not now Tyrus's enemy, nor that he was less culpable of the evil he might do. It was simply the only way to accept that his old friend could do these things and not be a monster. Which was what Tyrus needed. What they both needed.

  FORTY-FIVE

  As they walked through the shadowy forest, Moria tilted her head to listen and heard only the rustle of wind in the leaves. "It's quiet here."

  "Very. You're in the western provinces. Beyond the trees, you'd see the Katakana Mountains."

  "Where the Kitsunes are from."

  "Exactly. Also not far from Lord Okami's compound, which is almost a day's ride in that direction. In this direction"--he hooked his thumb toward the camp--"you'd be in the ocean by sunrise. Go that way"--he pointed left--"and you'd land in Lake Shiko. The other way? An ocean inlet."

  "Which means the Kitsunes have chosen an isolated location with one way in or out. This forest."

  He nodded. "That's why it was a good location for a camp. But after a decade of peace, it was abandoned, and it's been empty almost ten summers. Lord Okami had already figured out that this was the most likely spot for Alvar Kitsune to be holed up. When I reached him, he was preparing to send men to investigate, so he could notify my father."

  "Are his men nearby, then?"

  "A few. Beyond the forest. That's where Alvar's guards were. Okami's men helped me deal with them. Now they are out there keeping watch. The forest itself, as you see, is empty. As long as you are correct, and Gavril doesn't raise the alarm, it's likely to stay that way."

  "He won't."

  "If he does, we'll hear it. I've caught the bells signaling every meal. It's so quiet out here that it's impossible not to hear them."

  So quiet . . .

  Like the Forest of the Dead. Which was not the way a forest should be at all, as she'd learned from her travels.

  "Have you heard or seen anything?" she whispered.

  He shook his head. "I suspect Alvar's been here long enough to empty the forest of prey. That's one disadvantage to his situation. He can't simply travel to the nearest town and purchase enough supplies for an army."
r />   When they stepped into a clearing, she looked up to see the dark shape of a bat flitting past. Not empty, then. Just very, very quiet.

  Tyrus adjusted his grip on her hand and cleared his throat. "A lot has happened since you were taken. I'm not sure how much of it you know."

  "None. I wasn't exactly an honored guest, privy to rumors and news."

  He looked at her sharply. "You ought to have been. Not privy to news, I mean. But an honored guest. I presumed . . . You are a Keeper and surely Gavril . . ."

  "I was not a Keeper within those walls. I was a prisoner and Gavril's responsibility, one he--" She shook her head. "I just want to be out of this forest, and as far from this place as I can get."

  He took her other hand, tugged the dagger from it, and tucked it into his own belt as he pulled her to a stop in front of him.

  "I'm sorry," he said.

  She looked up at him. "For what?"

  "We did not . . ." He inhaled sharply. "No, I'll accept responsibility for this. Full responsibility. I did not come after you immediately, Moria. I presumed Gavril . . . I was certain he would care for you."

  Moria saw the guilt in his eyes and hurried on with a lie. "It was not a pleasant experience, but I was not mistreated. Gavril saw to that. I--"

  Daigo cut her off with a growl.

  "Yes, I know," Tyrus said to the wildcat. "You're right. This isn't the time for--"

  He stopped again as Daigo peered suddenly into the dark forest, his long tail puffing as it swished.

  "He hears something," Moria whispered.

  Tyrus handed Moria her dagger and took out his sword. But when they went still, all they could pick up was Daigo's growling.

  Shadow stalkers.

  The thought had flitted through her mind earlier, and she hadn't entertained it because her gut had told her she was mistaken. While it was possible that Alvar would keep his shadow stalkers here, she detected none of the negative spiritual energy she'd felt in the Forest of the Dead. The strum of spirit life was weak but present.

  Yet something must be out there or Daigo wouldn't keep growling. Some predator afoot. One that frightened every living thing into hiding.

  She looked up, thinking of the thunder hawk, but this dense forest would be a poor place for a bird the size of a house. It needed open ground.

  Speaking of ground . . . She glanced down, but again, it was the wrong terrain. No death worms could live beneath these thick roots.