“You’re awfully bold, Shade Ahraia, coming here with me.”
What do you mean? Ahraia conveyed, not liking Shalih’s tone.
A smile uncurled on Shalih’s cheeks, her eyes gleaming all the brighter.
“Where is my shadow?” Ahraia said aloud, her pretenses gone. A voice behind her caused her to jerk about.
“I told you she was as naïve as a spriteling.”
Kren dropped down from the crook of a maple tree.
Ahraia turned to her sister, not daring to believe what was happening.
“This isn’t about my shadow, is it?” Ahraia stepped back but sensed movement behind her. Two shades emerged from behind the trees. The ravens cawed louder and louder.
Kren smirked, but it was not a smile. It was a pained, pitying look.
“It’s always been about your shadow, Ahraia. You never deserved her.” Without any flourish, she drew her drain.
28
Shadow Bound
“I can’t believe she really followed me,” Shalih said to Kren, shaking her head. “I thought you were the naïve one when you said she would.” The shades each bore maddening smiles and their own drains. Their ravens’ calls echoed off the steep hillside. Ahraia’s heart was racing.
“She’s always been a touch . . . soft,” Kren said. Her eyes narrowed, directing her conveyance to Ahraia. Trying to get me involved with the spritelings. They can fend for themselves. Unlike you, who never had to . . .
Shalih looked about, taking in the forest in a single glance. Her eyes circled back to Ahraia.
“Here is as good a place as anywhere to settle this.”
“I was particular in the choosing,” Kren said, never taking her eyes from Ahraia.
A shiver ran ragged along Ahraia’s spine. Her gaze flickered towards the forest: tall firs rose with broken branches crowding up their trunks, a few vine maples lay low over the ground. The shades were creeping forward up the hill, cutting off her escape.
“There’s nothing for you to bind,” Kren said, guessing her thoughts.
“I’m your sister—” Ahraia hardly had time to think before a sloppy enchantment clapped her jaw shut. She bit her tongue, tasting blood. What are you doing? she conveyed to Shalih, sensing her mind as the source of the enchantment. She tried to raise her hand to her drain but she was paralyzed right down to her voice.
“How naïve could she be?” Shalih said, holding Ahraia as still as the forest.
You’re letting her do this? Ahraia conveyed to Kren, feeling a mind-numbing strength take hold of her. A second binding had formed. Kren’s eyes were devoid of any emotion, but Ahraia was sure it stemmed from her.
“It’s no different from what happened to mother. The weak need to be culled. And it’s only sparing you what is to come.”
Shalih was still shaking her head. “You think you can come here? To my darkening? To be my sister and take my place beneath my mother? And you expected me to help you find your shadow?” Her face twisted in disgust. “Only shades have sisters, Ahraia. Surely even you must understand that. There are no allegiances once you’re a sprite. The strong rule.”
Then I submit, Ahraia conveyed quickly, knowing she was outmatched.
“You would,” Kren said. She scoffed. “You’re too weak for your shadow.” The shades were creeping closer, with drains in hand. Shalih’s tongue ran across the tips of her teeth.
Losna! Ahraia conveyed, hoping beyond hope that her shadow was close. Shalih stepped dangerously forward, drawing her drain from her side.
“Your shadow won’t save you now.”
Ahraia struggled to free her mind. Kren’s jaw was set firmly, holding her.
“You don’t deserve to be the Masai,” Shalih said. “You don’t even deserve to be in line for it.”
Ahraia wrestled with the enchantment.
I don’t want to be the Masai, she thought, clawing to get away. Shalih’s binding was firm, but Ahraia knew Kren’s binding. Even more, she knew her sister.
Do you not remember? she conveyed angrily. You were my ward, my keeper. Have you lost all dignity? Kren’s grip tightened, trying to silence her. Flit didn’t. She would have never stood by this. Ahraia’s emotions crashed against her sister, and she felt the enchantment slip. What happened to you? Did you lose all memory of the shadow you cast?
The bonding loosened. Kren was shaking as though she had been touched by light.
Shalih didn’t notice. She walked purposefully towards Ahraia. A deep part of Ahraia wondered if this is how Kaval and Altah had gone. A terrible anger rose in her heart. Kren was just going to watch.
Flit would be ashamed.
Kren’s binding suddenly disintegrated. Ahraia felt as though her teeth were going to crack from clamping down. Shalih was two strides away.
Ahraia thought of Losna, alone and without her. She felt a flush across her face, angry. She thought of Kyah and the spritelings, under the knife of her father. She sensed the web of enchantment holding her. She understood it. She knew it.
Stay, Shalih’s enchantment directed her. Fixed.
Ahraia resisted, prying back Shalih’s hold. The Masai’s daughter was strong, but Ahraia was a wolf. She bared her teeth, bringing to bear the full strength of her mind.
Shalih’s drain was poised. She punched it forward.
Ahraia flexed against the binding. The enchantment strained and then shattered, like a shell of ice from a wind-shaken limb. Shalih’s eyes went wide as Ahraia spun aside.
She pulled her drain from her hip and sliced across Shalih’s face. Blood spattered across black ferns and Ahraia tumbled backwards, down the hill. Shalih screamed.
Ahraia scrambled up and knocked into one of the shades, sending him plunging down the embankment. Black wings fluttered about her, thrashing at her face. The piercing beaks of the two ravens stabbed against her arms and neck. Instinctively, she bound the ravens. She stopped the wings of the first and it plummeted it towards the ground.
Thump!
The shade cried out in dismay as his bird crashed down. Ahraia sent the second bird screeching towards a tree. It crumpled against the trunk, falling in a limp mass of feathers. Ahraia leapt down the hillside, sliding wildly towards a ravine below.
“Get back here!” Shalih said.
A wave of enchantment tried to slow Ahraia, but her mind was firm and ready for it.
Fool, she thought, running headlong through the woods, angry that she trusted Shalih so blindly. And Kren . . . Kren was worse than a wraith. Ahraia fumed as she sprinted through the undergrowth, parting trees and ferns before her with her bindings. Shalih and Kren were in pursuit, shouting and cursing her. But they weren’t as fast as Ahraia.
She leapt upon a fallen log and ran its length. She sprang from it to another. And another. She melded a tree ahead and used it to swing her effortlessly across a deep fold in the earth. She let the tension in the branch remain after she had let it go and released it a moment later.
Crack!
She heard Shalih gasp in pain as the branch crashed against her body.
Try and bind me . . . Ahraia thought remorselessly, running on.
“Ahraia! Get back here. We were just playing,” Kren called after her.
Get away from me.
Ahraia didn’t slow as she leapt across a creek, dancing over the rocks and scrambling up the far bank. A fresh wave of disgust roiled through her. She tried to kill me, she thought. It made her sick. Kren hadn’t just stood and watched, she had even drawn her drain. Ahraia wanted to go back and pull her sister’s ears from her. She was so distraught, she didn’t notice the woods suddenly teeming with movement ahead.
“Ahraia?” A voice suddenly called.
She pulled up short, recognizing it. It was the Astra, with a retinue of sprites in tow behind her. She looked livid.
“What are you doing here? Where have you been?” she said.
Ahraia spit the blood from her mouth, wondering if the Astra had been behind the attack. Just l
ike Golan, she thought darkly. She pulled the drain from her hip defensively, looking for a way out, a place to run.
The Masai slipped from behind a pair of broad trunks. “Did you find them?” she asked.
“She’s here,” the Astra said.
Ahraia’s tension ebbed, reassured by the Masai’s presence. But her relief was short lived. The Masai’s gaze was sharp, her voice accusing as she spoke.
“Where is Shalih?”
Ahraia was sweating, still breathing hard. Bright red blood dripped from her bone-white blade.
“Where is my daughter?” The Masai’s ears turned back aggressively.
She tried to kill me, Ahraia conveyed, realizing how terrible this must look. She tried to bond me and kill me.
The first hint of an enchantment clawed out from the Masai, and Ahraia braced herself, trying to form a barrier around her mind. Just then, Shalih sprinted from the woods. The cut across her right cheek was perfectly straight and dripping, smearing across her jaw, like the mark of a posturant. A welt rose on her other cheek where the branch had caught her. Kren burst from the woods a moment later. The Astra’s eyes widened but she didn’t say anything.
“What have you done?” the Masai asked, looking between Ahraia and Shalih.
I didn’t do anything! Ahraia conveyed.
Shalih looked terrified. “I woke up. And Shade Ahraia was gone from her shade tree. I went to Kren first, to see if she was visiting her sister—”
“That isn’t what happened—” Ahraia started.
“You can ask Uan and Periah,” Shalih said louder, pointing to the two shades with ravens for shadows. Both cradled their birds in their arms and glared at Ahraia. “They saw her leaving by the southern closures and came and warned me. That’s why I went after her—I took her sister in case things turned nasty. Kren warned me she might try something like this.”
“That isn’t true,” Ahraia said, in disbelief. The shades were nodding along with Shalih, and Kren was as well.
“—and when I caught her, she said she was looking for her shadow. She planned on fleeing. She bound me and cut me, then she ran off towards the Makers and we were trying to stop her.”
Ahraia stared at Shalih in disbelief, her mouth agape.
You don’t believe this? Do you? Ahraia conveyed, turning to the Masai and then the Astra. Her eyes flashed at Kren, a briefly shared memory of Flit causing her sister to look sharply downward.
The Masai was considering her pointedly. The Astra remained quiet, looking back and forth between them.
“Were you looking for your shadow?” the Masai asked at last.
Ahraia stared at her, still in disbelief.
“Yes. I was,” she said meeting the Masai’s eye. “And your daughter had told me she could show me where she was.”
“What?” Shalih exclaimed. “Why would I do that?”
The Astra’s jaw flexed, the muscles tightening to hard knots. If you managed to condemn yourself . . .
Don’t act like you didn’t have a role in this, Ahraia conveyed quickly. You set that ward after me. And you set these two as well.
The Astra’s eyes narrowed but the Masai’s voice cut off her response.
“Shalih, Kren, go back to the darkening,” she said.
But I didn’t do anything, Shalih whined.
Go. The Masai’s ears flickered for obedience. Then she turned to Ahraia, her eyes gleaming dangerously. “You—come with me.”
“Where are you taking her?” the Astra asked.
“To see her shadow.” I’m not going to spend the next two weeks chasing after your shade.
She stalked off through the woods, gesturing for Ahraia to follow and signaling for the others to stay.
Ahraia glared at Kren and Shalih, then walked warily after the Masai. The group remained, and all too soon they were alone in the woods. A pretense of calm settled about the Masai as they walked, far more disconcerting than if she had been angry. The silence between them stretched, until Ahraia couldn’t help herself.
That isn’t what happened, she conveyed, not wanting to break the silence. What your daughter said—that wasn’t what happened.
The Masai pointedly ignored her. She kept walking, unhurried. Ahraia’s dread swelled with every step. She thumbed the hilt of her drain, unsure what the Masai meant to do, remembering the way that her father had marched Hayvon back to the darkening before condemning him.
She offered to show me . . . what would you expect me to do?
The woods were changing. She thought she saw fog ahead. The hairs on her neck stood on end, but she realized it had been a trick of her eyes. She let out a worried breath and saw a wall of woven trees ahead of her. Except all of the closures were open.
Another darkening? she thought, knowing they couldn’t have reached Angolor yet.
A hillside rose beyond the closures and the Masai led her past the palisade. Gloomy clouds drifted beyond gaps in the massive trees and Ahraia was surprised to see that the ceiling of trees overhead didn’t form a true darkening.
Where are we? she asked.
“The Makers,” the Masai conveyed.
Ahraia’s scars flushed. What are we doing here? A thousand possibilities flashed into her head. Was she being forced into her third task early? Was the Masai taking her to Losna to show her shadow the light?
The Masai stopped.
Whoosh!
Ahraia flinched, spinning about as a hundred different closures shut with a resounding rustle of leaves. The wall was laced with serapin trees that continued to slither and move, seeking towards her.
The Masai stood calmly with her hands clasped behind her back.
“Understand this, Shade Ahraia. I won’t tolerate being disobeyed.”
I didn’t disobey—
“I don’t care what happened between my daughter and you. It’s finished.” Ahraia swallowed hard, holding back her conveyances. The Masai glared at her.
“I can’t spend every night chasing you about as you seek your shadow.” She waited until Ahraia nodded in agreement. The silence stretched. The Masai considered Ahraia a moment, then turned to the wall, running her fingers over the woven branches. A serapin tree snaked a branch caressingly over her shoulder, as though it was a shadow.
“Can you open this?”
Ahraia hesitated, wondering what she was getting at. The Masai raised her eyes questioningly.
“Your Astra tells me you’re quite good at folding darkness. Show me.”
Ahraia looked towards the wall. The Makers in Daispar had no wall at all. This one wasn’t much different from a darkening wall, though it was laced with the sharp thorns of dorn trees and the slithering vines of serapins. She stepped away from the nearest serapin, having no interest in trying to wrestle with it.
She reached out with her mind, bonding the wall. She kneaded the branches with her enchantment and though she was adept, they were slow to respond—slow to trust and slow to act—which meant they were slow to move too. She gave herself the proper time, not wanting to rush things that didn't want to be rushed. This wall was reluctant, so she coaxed it until it agreed. She let it grow accustomed to her and its woven branches loosened, becoming willing. She waited, slowly turning her bonding to a binding, connection to control. Gradually, the wall’s willingness transformed to eagerness. It was ready.
Open, she thought, sensing the branches ready to burst.
Thwack! A branch struck out before she could duck.
Suddenly, Ahraia was on the ground looking up at the clouds through a mess of white hair and trees, wondering what had happened as the Masai leaned over her.
“Let that be the first lesson. No one gets out of the Makers without my say. These woods answer to me and me alone. If you enter them against my will, don’t expect to leave freely.”
Ahraia was dazed. By the time she stood up, the Masai was already walking steadily up the hill. Ahraia followed, her head aching and her lip split anew. She tasted blood for the second time.
>
They climbed steeply through the woods. The clouds broke and starlight tingled faintly on Ahraia’s neck. But something else touched at her heart as well; a deeper void started to fill.
It started as a trickle. She was breathing heavily, but when she noticed she paused, holding her breath to listen.
She brushed her hair from her face, her ears twitching in search of a noise that she couldn’t hear. A silent howl that made no sound and never stopped. She took several more steps and the void filled with a rush, her heart rate quickening. She scrambled up the hillside. The feeling swelled. It was familiar and hungry, this strange and beautiful feeling. It was the feeling she had been seeking for the whole turning.
Losna?
She felt the bond suddenly come awake and alive.
Ahraia?
She scurried towards a break in the trees, seeing silver fur and sharp ears perked in the air.
“Losna!” she said. Overwhelmed, tears of joy streamed down Ahraia’s face, and her heart felt as though it had burst in her chest. Her shadow stood atop the hill. She rushed towards her.
“Stop,” the Masai commanded, binding Ahraia firmly at the edge of a stony hilltop ringed in tall trees.
Losna jerked wildly against a rope tying her where she stood.
Ahraia! You’re here. Let me go. Let me go. My Shade! Let me go.
Ahraia tried to run to her, but couldn’t; she was held unwillingly by the Masai’s mind.
Losna pulled and fought against a vine that fixed her where she stood. But it glinted unnaturally, and rattled like human metal, holding her firmly and choking at her neck.
Ahraia! There you are! Where have you been? Are you all right? Losna twisted and leapt, trying to shake free from the thick shackles. Ahraia could see dried blood on her neck from where she had already strained against the bonds. The metal vine was attached some twenty feet away, disappearing beneath a twisted and skeletal tree, polished smooth by untold turnings beneath the rain and the wind.
Losna! Ahraia thought. A thousand emotions tumbled between her and her shadow—relief, fear, joy, worry.
Losna stopped struggling and stood at the very limit of her fetters, her front paws dancing off the ground. Ahraia leaned forward against the enchantment of the Masai. Her ears quivering at the sight of her shadow.
Between the Shade and the Shadow Page 36
