The corner of the Masai’s lip twitched. “I’m willing to give you two dozen dae-wards, and the seeds for as many nit trees. That’s more than any unrooted sprite is worth.”
An audible gasp circled through the surrounding sprites. The air once again resonated with conveyance, and sprites and shades shifted uncomfortably. The change in the air was so palpable that Losna growled in irritation.
The Masai’s ears twitched, turning towards them. She looked over her shoulder, peering up through the crowd. A shiver ran down Ahraia’s spine, and she instinctively ducked aside and lowered her ears.
“Is that your wolf-binder?” the Masai said.
Ahraia stepped self-consciously behind several sprites, bringing Losna closer with a fistful of fur. Faces and ears followed the Masai’s gaze towards them, and sprites stepped aside, giving her no place to hide. Ahraia bowed her head even more, staring at her boots. They were stained black with mud and gray with ash.
The Astra looked up as well. And my nit-ward, returned from looking into the trouble with the shades, she conveyed. “Beran, come down here.”
“Bring the wolf-binder,” the Masai said with a curious smile.
Ahraia ears ached from trying to keep them straight.
What does she want from us? Losna thought nervously.
“Come on,” her father said, indicating for her to follow. The sprites in front of him had parted, showing the path down to the bottom of the hollow. The stones seemed to shift beneath her feet as Ahraia followed her father. She heard a nervous swell of conveyance pass through the dell:
What happened to her skin?
It looks as though she’s passed under the Dae-Mon . . .
Not the Dae-Mon. Those scars are from fire-light. Look at how red they are . . .
Ahraia glanced up to see the Astra glaring at her with a sharply furrowed brow.
Stay quiet, her father conveyed subtly before bowing. Masai, he conveyed with eyes and ears down submissively. This is Ahraia, daughter of Behra.
Ahraia bowed, her ears tucking backwards self-consciously.
“Your shadow is beautiful,” the Masai said, her sallow eyes faintly gleaming as she looked at Losna. Her light scars were even darker than Ahraia had first thought, charcoal gray. She had a scar across her cheek that looked like a claw mark, and her left ear was just shorter than the other.
Ahraia’s thoughts tumbled against her nerves and came out as rough as a spritelings conveyance. Thank you.
A nervous silence settled over the hollow. The Masai’s gaze was fixed on Losna and Ahraia.
“Did you find the shades?” the Astra asked Ahraia’s father to break the silence.
He nodded. It was just as the Masai indicated; the shades were already dead. The work of lightwalkers undoubtedly—we found two dozen of them camped in the same meadow.
Ahraia looked up, her fear giving way to anger that her father was still insisting it was the humans.
That’s not true, she conveyed.
Keep your thoughts to yourself, the Astra conveyed, her mouth turning down at the corners before turning back to Ahraia’s father. “Humans?” she asked. He nodded. “What did you do with them?”
We disposed of them, all but one . . .
“One got away?” the Astra said, perturbed. Her ears twitched for an explanation.
Nitesse Gavea and my wards are seeing after it, her father conveyed.
“Why is a nitesse hunting after a human?” the Masai asked. “That’s the task of a ward.”
Let me explain, her father conveyed, holding up his hands placatingly. A murmur of thoughts and whispers passed through the crowded dell. The Astra shifted uncomfortably. Her father’s conveyance tightened so that his thoughts were known only to the few in the center of the hollow.
Our shades came across a human while they were hunting and it got away—unfortunately, one of them was seen.
Ahraia barely managed to hold back her objection, knowing any lie would reveal itself and she would end up condemning them all.
“Seen?” the Masai asked, her listless eyes turning to Ahraia.
“Who was seen?” the Astra asked sharply, worry plain on the edge of her voice. A flurry of conveyance passed across the darkening as the sprites and wards who hadn’t been privy to the conveyance sensed the implication. Ahraia’s ears twitched unintentionally. She glanced back and found Hayvon standing near the bottom of the dell. His ears were pointed sharply upward. He met her eye and made the lightest bonding.
Be ready to run, if this turns to the light, he conveyed.
What’s happening? What did father say to you? Ahraia hoped she wasn’t as pale as Hayvon.
Her father frowned and held up a hand. I was hoping to discuss this in some privacy, he conveyed with a glance to the Astra. Her eyes widened and Ahraia was sure some conveyance passed between them.
“Then tell,” the Astra said, ears flickering for privacy.
Ahraia’s father nodded. Every sprite in the darkening watched on, but not a sound of his conveyance slipped forth. Water still streamed down from the shell even as the rain’s patter lulled, but a silence formed in the hollow, oppressive and still. Ahraia strained to catch what was being conveyed, but her father’s thoughts were too subdued.
What did you tell him? Ahraia conveyed to Hayvon, growing more nervous by the moment. Hayvon didn’t respond. He was staring sharply at their father. Losna shifted anxiously on her paws, pressing closer to Ahraia.
The Astra began to nod, her ears drooping slightly and her eyes darkening to a deep flaxen shade. When at last she spoke, her voice shattered the silence that had formed.
“Bring me Hayvon and my oldest shades.”
What’s happening? Ahraia conveyed. Her father shot her a warning glance and signaled for her to keep quiet.
Stay out of this, unless you want to lose your shadow.
Ahraia bit her lip and grabbed hold of Losna. She looked at Hayvon.
Stay quiet, he conveyed with his jaw set firmly. He stepped forward, shoulders squared and ears up, seemingly unafraid. Tev and Shim were shuffled down the hillside: both looked startled and frightened. Shim’s ermine scuttled from his hands and into his cloak, and Tev’s squirrel bounced closely after her. Both the Astra’s and Ahraia’s father’s eyes glowed maliciously. Losna growled without knowing it.
“Your father told me what happened,” the Astra said. Her words carried an unasked question, and the barest accusation.
This has nothing to do with your shades, Hayvon answered firmly.
Ahraia, strangely enough, was keenly aware of his thoughts, as though a bonding had formed between them, though it hadn’t. The dimmest hint of a confession lay at the tip of his conveyance, mixed with an emptiness, raked out of his heart, haunting and hollow.
The veins of the Astra’s eyes turned golden. “Is it true?”
Hayvon’s emotions tumbled across Ahraia’s mind just before the thoughts were conveyed.
It is.
Ahraia opened her mouth to protest, but couldn’t. An enchantment seized within her, preventing her from objecting. Her body and mind stilled, overwhelmed by a heavy binding, like a protective shelter that cocooned her and forced her into silence. She struggled against it but froze when Hayvon’s conveyances echoed in her mind. This is the only way out of this.
What are you doing? Ahraia conveyed in panic, but the thought didn’t escape. She tried to free herself, but a second and third binding suddenly enveloped her, smothering her. Her father’s eyes lay fixed upon her and she sensed another gaze flicker towards her, though she couldn’t tell whose it was. A heavy fog clouded her mind: her thoughts faded, her eyes blurred and her ears didn’t seem to hear. Her fingers, resting in her Losna’s fur, seemed distant and foreign. Even their bond felt subdued. She watched in a haze of terror as the Astra pressed forward.
“But you’re admitting it? Openly?”
Hayvon’s answer echoed in Ahraia’s mind, close and yet dim. Just me. Not the shades. Not Ahra
ia.
Ahraia would have screamed if she could have.
“You understand what this means?” the Astra said.
Hayvon nodded.
He wasn’t seen, Ahraia tried to convey, trying to force her thoughts through the stifling enchantment. Her father’s eyes flickered to her and her mind blurred.
Stay out of this if you want to keep your shadow, he conveyed again. Yet Ahraia didn’t have a choice. She watched in helpless terror, her chest drawn in tightly as the taste of what was to come turned chalky on her tongue.
The Astra stood in front of her shades, contemplating them evenly. Shim kept his eyes down and Tev stood clutching her shadow tightly. The Astra’s stern posture softened and she knelt in front of the younger shade, who, like her brother, was staring at her feet. When the Astra spoke, her voice snaked out, quiet and tender, nothing like the tone she struck with Hayvon.
“Tev, my love,” she said, lifted her daughter’s chin to meet her eye. “What happened with the human?”
Tev’s eyes brimmed with tears. Her shadow crawled into her arms.
“You were seen, weren’t you? You can tell me. Nothing bad will come of it,” the Astra said. The whole darkening was silent, eerily so. The Astra nodded reassuringly. “It’s all right.” She caressed Tev’s hand.
Don’t believe that, Ahraia thought in desperation, her voice swallowed by the binding. She wanted to scream at Tev to stay quiet. Please, Hayvon, she thought, begging to be released from at least part of the binding.
Tev began to cry.
“Tell me,” the Astra commanded more forcefully.
Tev took a shuddering breath, lowered her eyes and nodded once. She sobbed, a pitiful and quiet noise.
No, she wasn’t. She wasn’t seen, Ahraia conveyed desperately. The bindings twisted down upon her, holding her like the unforgiving webs of a vice spider.
The Astra still held Tev’s hand, though her gentle reassurances sounded blunted.
“And Shim? Was he seen? If you tell me the truth, I promise I won’t hurt you—or your brother.”
Tev nodded once more. A murmur of surprise and excitement passed through the watching sprites. Shim still hadn’t looked up, but Ahraia thought she heard a sob.
“What of Ahraia?” the Masai asked, a dim glimmer in her eye like the Dark Moon at its peak. The furor hushed, and a shiver of fear swelled through the enchantments holding Ahraia.
Tev shook her head. “Shade Ahraia wasn’t there,” she whispered.
The Astra let out a sigh. Ahraia’s father shifted uncomfortably and the link swelled with both relief and anxiety.
Hayvon’s ears batted for pardon. The shades weren’t seen. I told you, he conveyed. None of them were seen. I—
“Enough,” the Astra said, dismissing his pleas. Ahraia could feel Hayvon’s panic rising.
“But they weren’t seen!” he said aloud. “Father. I already told you, they weren’t seen!”
Whispers of disapproval hissed out through the crowd of sprites.
“Quiet,” the Astra commanded, her face clouding in disgust. “Don’t you dare speak aloud in front of the Masai.”
A searing wave of silent admonishment turned the air, but Ahraia could sense through the binding that Hayvon hardly noticed. His mind was surprisingly empty, and the only fear he held was for the shades, and for Ahraia.
“You’ve already admitted to being seen by a human—you’ve put this whole darkening at risk. But you’re not going to endanger us any longer. Give me your shadow.”
Losna let out a whine, terrified for Vesta. The rest of the sprites stared on eagerly. The Masai was the only one without any emotion in her eye, watching with the quiet stillness of a lidless owl.
Ahraia expected Hayvon to panic, but to her disbelief, he let out a grim smile. No thought or conveyance came forth, but Ahraia could feel bitter satisfaction flowing through their bond, a sense of relief followed closely by a haunting, aching emptiness in his mind that he had been avoiding.
The Astra held out her hand. “Where is it? Where is that pathetic little tree rat.”
The air bristled, but Hayvon didn’t move, except for a bitter smile playing at his lips. Ahraia shuddered to feel his emotions boiling to the surface. She felt a void of loss yawning open inside him.
The Astra’s spell rang out with her voice. “Give me your shadow.”
“She’s gone,” Hayvon said.
Gone? Ahraia thought faintly. Then she understood the void she sensed. He had cut Vesta loose—given her back to the forest. Ahraia’s breaths seemed empty, like she couldn’t draw enough air. Her chest ached, the weight too heavy to bear, the void too haunting to touch. She couldn’t fathom what he had done, but she understood; he had known Vesta would be shown the light, and he had set her free before the Astra could kill her.
The Astra’s ears lowered angrily. “Impossible.” She stared at Hayvon, her eyes fierce and disbelieving. “Find me his shadow. It can’t be far,” she called out. Several sprites and wards swept away through the darkening.
The Astra turned back towards her shades.
“Come here,” she ordered. The shades didn’t move, but their shadows wriggled into motion: Tev’s squirrel leapt from her hands, scampering the short distance to the Astra, and Shim’s ermine crawled from his pocket, snaking free from Shim’s attempt to keep hold of him.
Ahraia sensed Hayvon telling the shadows to flee, and watched in impotent horror as the Astra reached down and grabbed Tev’s shadow. The squirrel didn’t struggle. It waited calmly, watching as the Astra drew her drain. The knife was narrow and sharp. There was no hesitation. With a single, clean stroke, the Astra sliced the head from Tev’s shadow.
Tev gasped and fell to her knees. She shuddered, her breaths escaping as a horrible strangled noise. The Astra tossed the dead squirrel at her feet.
Shim’s shadow tried to scramble away. A dae-ward stooped to grab it, but it slithered free. It scampered towards the darkening wall, wriggling through the legs of sprites.
Shim did the same but a sprite caught him by the arm, yanking him to the ground. He cried out in pain and his shadow froze. In that instant, Ahraia’s father slammed his hand down, pinning the ermine by the neck. The shadow bit him, sinking its sharp teeth into his knuckles. Blood streamed across his fingers but he carried the shadow unflinching to the Astra.
The binding around Ahraia lessened. Hayvon was directing more of himself into urging the ermine to flee. Shim’s shadow twisted and squirmed, but the Astra took it, and in a single, swift motion, beheaded it. Blood spurted across her wrists.
Hayvon gasped, and Ahraia sensed his brief connection to the shadow sliced open. Even twice removed, it felt as though she had been stabbed. She flinched and realized she could move. The enchantment holding her had thinned; Hayvon and her father were distracted. Concentrating on the threads of the binding, she willed her mind free, snapping one hold after another. Losna was suddenly close and comforting next to her, but terrified by what had just happened.
Shim collapsed, hanging limply in his captor’s arms.
“You daemon!” Hayvon said through clenched teeth. Wards lunged forward to grab him. The air quivered once again with enchantment and he went quiet, though his eyes were wild and terrible.
“Daemon?” the Astra said, her pale eyes now glowing yellow. “You’ll know a daemon soon enough. Get him out of my sight.”
Ahraia panted, still reeling from the shadows’ deaths as wards wrestled Hayvon away. Her ears were flat, and tears of anger streamed down her face.
“Shade Ahraia,” the Astra said, blood covering her hands and wrists like Ahraia’s markings covered hers. “Get a hold of yourself . . .”
The shadows’ blood dripped to the forest floor. Ahraia barely restrained the urge to scream at the Astra, to attack her father with her bare hands for condemning Hayvon, and for letting his own shades be cut from their shadows. Ahraia’s emotions were a storm that roiled within her. She hadn’t realized it, but her teeth we
re bared and Losna was poised for a fight.
Ahraia, comport yourself with a bit of decency, her father conveyed heatedly. You’re in charge of your nit now; you’re too old to show your emotion.
The Masai’s ears perked straight up. “She is the head of her nit?” she asked. Her calm broke for the first time, showing with surprise. “Is she the eldest?”
The Astra’s face turned from anger to fear in an instant, as though she suddenly realized some terrible, unstoppable truth. Ahraia’s father paled, and his lips drew tight. Neither answered, and Ahraia was too distraught to even understand the Masai’s implication. Shim lay limp upon the ground, and Tev sobbed incoherently.
“Is she the eldest?” the Masai asked again.
The Astra nodded, a pained look on her face.
The Masai’s ears were quivering. “Then I want her as part of my darkening.”
Ahraia’s breath caught. The words didn’t make sense.
She’s not even a sprite yet, her father conveyed. She’s not old enough.
“She doesn’t have to be,” the Masai said. “I’m calling her to become one.”
What’s happening? Losna thought, as realization settled upon Ahraia’s heart. The Masai’s words constricted around Ahraia beyond any binding she had ever felt. The world closed around her and her eyes blurred. Unbound fear spread through her, so intense that she couldn’t help it reflecting on her shadow. Losna let out a terrified whimper.
She’s not ready, the Astra conveyed desperately. Ahraia’s lungs wouldn’t fill.
“You mean you’re not ready. Don’t pretend you never had any intention of letting her be uprooted,” the Masai said.
She’s just a shade still, the Astra conveyed.
The Masai smiled, a cold and shimmering smile like starlight on a frigid winter night. When she spoke, her voice projected to the furthest corners of the darkening, to the very blackness of the night.
“I’m calling for Shade Ahraia to enter her shadow test.”
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Traded for Darkness
The silence that gripped the darkening was absolute.
Between the Shade and the Shadow Page 15
