When Kyah let go, her eyes were dry and her face was forced into a stern grimace.
I’ll see after them, Kyah conveyed. A light enchantment brushed Ahraia—a steady conviction spreading unintentionally—Kyah’s determination ran resolutely right down to her core. Like a young tree with strong roots. Ahraia couldn’t smile, but pride radiated through her for the honor her sister carried, even with their world being turned to light.
Every curse and accusation Ahraia could think of ran through her mind as she led Losna across the darkening in search of her father. Her thoughts blurred with the anxiety of confrontation, but her anger drove her forward with ears flat and hair pulled back in a loose tarry that made no effort to hide her scars.
She paused to scan the central hollow first. A few sprites filled waterskins at the springs, and others edged along the fringes of the nits, but it seemed most were already afoot in the woods. Rain rapped on the shell above, but no water dripped through to the hollow below. Ahraia wondered idly where the Masai and her company were being sheltered, though only so she could avoid them.
She checked the cook fires and the dim groves first, winding circuitously towards the Astra’s nit. Ahraia had no intention of actually entering—the thought reviled her—but soon enough they rounded a stony path and the dense wall of the Astra’s nit loomed ahead, hanging heavily with tallow vines and velum creepers.
Ahraia stood awkwardly for a moment, wondering if she should just bind the tree and check inside. Repulsed, she formed a loose bond but was spared going any further when Tallin, Gavea’s sister, emerged through a narrow passageway nearby.
“There you are,” she said in greeting. “I’ve been looking for you since dusk.” Like her sister, Tallin still resented Ahraia from when she was a shade.
Couldn’t have been looking that hard, Ahraia thought, just loose enough for an echo to pass outward. Tallin frowned. Losna’s tail swished contentedly.
“Your father wanted me to tell you—you’re not to leave the darkening.”
“Why?”
Tallin’s ears quivered upright, then batted for Ahraia’s conveyance. “It’s not my concern to know your father’s mind.”
A sprite who was passing nearby stopped to look. Ahraia bowed her head, just enough to ward off any repercussions. Once the sprite had moved on, she looked up, not bothering to apologize.
Do you know where he is? she conveyed.
“He’s away. With the Astra.”
Do you know where? Ahraia asked.
Tallin furrowed her brow. “No.”
Ahraia didn’t press the point. She turned away with a mock bow and made to return to the nit, feeling Tallin’s gaze on her back the whole way.
As though I’d follow her orders, Ahraia conveyed to Losna.
They entered the nit through a thin closure and headed straight for the other side, then exited and headed for the darkening wall. In a matter of steps, they were outside. The forest rattled with falling leaves and dripping rain. Spurts of cold wind sent great showers shaking down from above. Ahraia pulled her hood up and sealed the darkening behind her.
All right. We need to find my father . . .
Losna put her nose to the ground and began hunting for his scent, leading towards the east, where Ahraia guessed he would have left the darkening. She didn’t have much of a plan yet, other than to put the question to him by conveyance and see if she could feel the lie.
I’ve got his scent. Losna indicated a trail emerging from a narrow fold of Daispar, heading off towards the Endless Plains. Losna led them into the fitful rain, nose down, with Ahraia following at a run.
The path wasn’t hard to follow. It led through the rifts and gullies of the hills, gradually downward, past the Deep Pool and Warm Springs. Ahraia looked wistfully at the steam rising amongst the pattering rain. The water, dripping from above, was beginning to seep through to her shoulders, sending a miserable, chattering cold through her jaw and neck.
We shouldn’t let them get what they want. We should leave, Losna thought, sniffing after a scent she didn’t recognize.
Ahraia didn’t answer. Try as she might, Losna wouldn’t be convinced how dangerous leaving the darkening would be. True enough, she could fold darkness—but eventually it would fail. The wrong storm or the wrong creatures abroad—whether it be sprites, alps, or humans—jontuns, bears, or goblins— and then what? She would be dead. Something, someday would disrupt any dark she folded. She couldn’t cook, and she couldn’t live off roots and berries forever. It was too dangerous to run.
Losna snorted and shook her coat, then turned back to the trail, jogging after the scent before it washed away. Ahraia could tell she was angry.
Losna, I can’t just run for it. It’s not that simple. If I—she stopped as something snapped away in the woods. Losna had heard it as well. She turned her neck, looking towards the noise—a falling branch likely. Ahraia turned back to Losna.
It’s not that I want to go through with it—
Losna growled her off.
Ahraia frowned. It wasn’t like Losna to be short with her.
“What do you want me to do?” she said, her emotions laid bare.
Losna growled and shot her an angry glance. That wasn’t a branch. There’s something out there.
Ahraia listened, feeling foolish and upset. But Losna was right, something was moving distantly through the forest. It was coming closer, lumbering through the underbrush, loud and unafraid. Only a few things could move so disastrously and worry-free through the woods, and all of them were dangerous in their own right, a jontun or a bear, or one of the keress, wandering into the forest from the plains.
Losna sniffed, trying to catch a scent in the rain. Ahraia stood perfectly still, pressed against the trunk of a large fir tree. Her ears turned for a better sense of it, but what she heard was not what she expected.
A voice rose through the night and was followed closely by conveyance, loud and unchecked.
“Keep it bound! I don’t care how difficult it is. If you even let it think, we’ll both be burnt again—”
I’m trying. It’s a damned fiend. We should just kill it and be done with it, Nitesse.
Ahraia heard something struggling through the underbrush, shaking leaves and branches as no sprite ever would.
We can tell the Astra it was already dead.
“I want it alive, you fool.”
Sprites, Losna thought, hearing only a reflection of what Ahraia did but catching a scent through the dark. Ahraia recognized the conveyance, only having a moment to duck into hiding before the brush was pushed aside and two sprites emerged, Nitesse Gavea and a dae-ward, dragging a figure between them. At first glance, Ahraia thought it was another sprite, bound and hooded, but then she saw light-burnt hands and a strange cloak. The figure struggled and kicked as they went.
It’s human, Losna thought, catching a scent, just as Ahraia got a glimpse of long red hair tumbling from beneath the veil.
“That’s the human,” Ahraia whispered, unable to contain her dismay. The one with our orb! Her heart clenched with fear, knowing what it meant once Gavea brought the human back to Daispar.
The dae-ward’s light-veil was off, showing a face crossed and scarred with light. His veil was wrapped around the head of the human, binding its mouth and eyes. Gavea was equally seared with light streaks, as though freshly exposed to the orb’s light. Ahraia felt momentary hope for her nit. She couldn’t help but look for any glimmer of the orb shining through the human’s rain-swept cloak, but no light came forth.
What good is it alive? the dae-ward asked, struggling with the human as it stumbled to the ground. “It’s clearly deranged.”
The human thumped her head inconsequentially against the ward, oblivious to what he had said.
“Beran—” Gavea said, yanking the girl up by the hair, eliciting a stream of muffled shouts, “will get that damned shade out of trouble if the human isn’t alive. The Astra too. But if it comes from the human, they can
’t deny it—” The nitesse continued deliberately through the forest, dragging the human away, casting her conveyance sharp and unchecked through the night.
It’s time that wolf binder’s shown for the fraud she is. She never deserved her standing—I’m sick of the Astra overlooking true sprites because of her and that light-laced shadow of hers.
Losna bristled next to Ahraia but held back her growl. If she’s got the human, what choice do we have but to run?
Ahraia held her breath, listening. She waited, but Gavea and the dae-ward trundled off through the woods, back towards the path Ahraia and Losna had been following.
We have to stop them, Ahraia conveyed. Before she had any sort of plan, her feet carried her out from behind the cover of the underbrush.
What are you doing! Losna thought, nipping at her to hold her back. But Ahraia ducked away, following the sprite and the ward, staying quiet and out of sight.
Unless the human drops dead or manages to escape, we’re as good as condemned, Losna thought. Her worry filled their bond, but her thoughts struck reason into Ahraia.
That’s it, Ahraia conveyed, breaking into a run. Come on! She folded back the branches just ahead of her, rushing past before most even began to bend.
You mean to kill the human? Losna thought, surprised but not altogether against it.
Maybe, Ahraia conveyed, slipping down a hillside and muddying her hands. It doesn’t matter if she’s still with Gavea—we have to get her away from the nitesse.
And you think that won’t lead to trouble? Losna thought sharply. Her chest rumbled as she ran.
Ahraia ignored her, hurrying silently ahead of the trio in the blissfully loud night. It won’t—as long as we aren’t seen.
She was already laying the foundations of the bindings in her mind; they would have to be perfect. She had already bound the human once, and she knew how impish she was. Hopefully she wouldn’t put up a fight—and hopefully, the dae-ward was light-sick and weak.
Ahraia ducked behind the cover of a log just as she saw branches shaking from the path. A limb broke and Gavea led the impossibly-loud human forward with the dae-ward following close behind.
Ahraia crouched in hiding, peeking out just enough to see the ward and the nitesse. Losna pressed close beside her.
You’re not binding Gavea, are you? she worried.
No. Ahraia wasn’t sure she could manage Gavea in binding. A ward, maybe . . . but a nitesse? It was too much risk.
She reached out to the human, casting a subtle enchantment. At once, the girl’s fear echoed through the link, but Ahraia quelled it, focusing instead on the part of the girl that wanted to scream and fight—like before, she felt fierce.
Can you make light? Ahraia conveyed. She didn’t see any hint of the orb glowing out. She hoped the human hadn’t lost it.
The girl, who had been struggling, went perfectly still. Confusion and simultaneous hope bubbled across the link; the girl shivered, sensing the bonding, but she didn’t startle.
The dae-ward pushed her hard from behind.
“Keep moving,” he said, not bothering to mirror his words.
Ahraia reassured the girl, stilling her anger. I’m going to free you. Can you make light? she conveyed again.
“Light?” the girl tried to say, her voice muffled by the veil. Ahraia sensed hope and helplessness twining in the girl’s heart.
I’ll get you free, she conveyed, hoping the orb still had light.
Ahraia slackened the enchantment and turned her mind towards the dae-ward instead. She bound him, turning it quickly to a full binding without time to fully familiarize herself to him. She was surprised by the difference. His emotions felt blunted, dim as the night compared to the human: tired, wet, and ill at ease being behind the lightwalker. Ahraia lowered herself into the enchantment, her mind entangling with his as she took total control.
Her hiding place faded. She watched, but only with dim eyes. Her sense of night came instead through the ward’s eyes, but it was blurred by a degree of separation. Ahraia began to move his hands—their hands—forward, imagining her intentions while the dae-ward compliantly provided the action, unaware of the binding. She could vaguely see the knot holding the human and coaxed his hands into untying it. They fumbled at it awkwardly, as though in a dream where their fingers had no muscle. The knot was stuck.
Untie that, Ahraia thought.
The ward jerked the human to a stop and yanked at the veil.
Gavea looked back, her face contorting in bewilderment.
The dae-ward froze, suddenly sensing something awry, a twining sense of the enchantment and Ahraia. She could sense his uncertainty through the link, and watched as Gavea’s face twisted from confusion to blinding fury in the span of a breath. Ahraia forced the dae-wards fingers to move, working faster, ripping at the knot. The veil loosened, slipping slightly. His fingers twisted, and he pulled hard. The knot gave way.
Free! Ahraia thought.
Gavea stepped quickly towards the pair, poised like an adder about to strike. Ahraia untangled her mind from the dae-ward just as Gavea’s fist struck his temple. Ahraia felt the briefest, most brilliant pain before withdrawing from the binding completely. The dae-ward crumpled to the ground beneath the curses of the nitesse.
Fully returned to herself, Ahraia turned her eyes to the scene in front of her. The girl had freed her arms and was scrambling away, pulling the veil from her mouth.
We need light! Ahraia conveyed.
The thought was already forming at the tip of the girl’s mind.
“Fire!” she said, though it didn’t sound like the human tongue in the least. Ahraia watched in shock as fire sprang into the air, springing from the human’s very words. Ahraia ducked behind the log, realizing the human wasn’t just a lightwalker—she was a light-caster—some form of enchantress herself, who held the name of fire in her voice.
Ahraia cowered from the light, wondering what she had unleashed. She stayed low, keeping her eyes and ears down. Losna crouched next to her defensively, ready to leap at the girl.
Ahraia risked a glance and saw the human holding the fire to a broken branch, soaked with rain. Flames leapt onto it, sizzling hot, and smoke curled heavily into the night. The dae-ward was crawling away, and Gavea lay crumpled in the firelight, writhing in pain. The human was backing away, and Ahraia’s link strained with every step, the distance stretching it.
This way, she thought, using the bond to re-direct the girl eastwards, towards the plains. The light and fire danced dangerously closer. Ahraia ducked aside and Losna scrambled with her. The human didn’t need any more encouragement and ran past them without notice. Ahraia sprang after her, leaving Gavea and the dae-ward floundering on the ground.
The human crashed through branches, over roots and fallen logs. Ahraia stayed hidden and tried to guide her, but even folding back what she could, the human managed to sound like a bear twice her size.
Losna dashed at Ahraia’s heel, looking back towards Gavea and the ward. What are you doing? We should just kill it and be done with it.
Ahraia felt a flutter of fear. She’s too dangerous, she conveyed back. But in truth, something else stayed her hand.
Then I’ll kill her, Losna thought.
I’ve already bound her, Ahraia explained.
Losna’s demeanor changed at once, realizing what Ahraia meant. She looked back through the woods, worried Gavea or the ward would come running after them at any moment.
How are we going to get out of this? she thought.
We’ve got to get her to the plains.
Losna was nervous but didn’t argue. This fire is a beacon to any sprites. What if your father is out here?
Ahraia’s ears tucked back anxiously. If they were found with a human that had just been freed from a nitesse, it would be the end of them, especially once the dae-ward was interrogated.
Get out ahead—make sure there aren’t any more sprites out there, she conveyed.
Losna hesitated.
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Ahraia reassured her. I can handle the human. Just make sure we don’t run into any more trouble.
Losna gave her a wary look and then darted forward, easily outpacing them, disappearing first from sight and then from mind. Ahraia followed, guiding the unassuming human after her faint and dimming link to her shadow.
The trail led downward, winding through rain-slickened woods. The flame bobbed in front of the girl, but it was growing dimmer, cooling until it was too feeble to provide true light for her to see by. She scraped and cut herself blindly, exhausted. The fire seemed to be bleeding her energy and the girl tripped and then fell.
Get up, Ahraia urged. The enchantment was growing more difficult to uphold. A cold, seeping weariness that had nothing to do with the rain and the wind dragged at Ahraia’s feet. The fatigue was waxing through their link.
Losna! Ahraia thought, trying to call her shadow back. But she was already too far ahead, too distant to sense.
The fire was fading, showing less now than even moonlight would. It dimmed, until it was nothing more than a firefly, and then it flickered, and extinguished altogether.
The girl stopped.
The night became woefully dark.
The girl’s fear reflected back through the bond: desperation twining with inevitability. Her breaths were labored and slow, her chin chattering from cold. The fire had drained her of all warmth and there was nothing left inside to burn.
You have to keep going, Ahraia urged. She looked about the woods for her shadow. Losna! she called once more.
“I can’t,” the girl said, less than a whisper.
Just a little farther, Ahraia conveyed.
The human didn’t budge.
Ahraia thought she heard something away through the woods—Losna coming back. We’re over here, she conveyed once more. They didn’t have time to rest; soon enough, Gavea and the dae-ward would recover from the light and would undoubtedly set out after them. Ahraia took a deep breath, knowing what she had to do.
Between the Shade and the Shadow Page 18
