Shadow Blessed (The Shadow Accords Book 1)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Lying to this woman would do no good, and it didn’t really matter. Carth likely wouldn’t see her again. She’d chosen this herbalist only because she knew how to find it, but there were others within the city, most nearer to where Carth had once lived. “That’s what we need.”

  The old woman came around the counter and reached for Kel’s neck. “Choclem will be too dark for his skin.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  The herbalist turned to the shelf with the powders. “Depends on how long you intend the staining to last, and whether you wish to see other effects.”

  “It needs to last long enough that it won’t be noticed.” Carth frowned. “And what other effects?”

  The herbalist set down one of the canisters without opening it and looked over her shoulder to Carth. “What other effects? Most who come here think that these leaves and oils have magical properties! Don’t you want to see if you can heal your friend, maybe make him stronger, or richer, or—”

  “I don’t believe there’s magic in your leaves.”

  The old woman chuckled. “No. That’s not where the magic lives, now, is it?” She lifted a jar from the bottom shelf and went to the jars lining the wall, picking one with a slightly opaque color. She carried them toward the front of the shop and set them on the counter.

  Carth watched as she pulled a small ceramic bowl from beneath the counter and tipped the nevern oil carefully into it, letting it drip slowly, almost as if she counted each individual drop. When satisfied, she opened the canister and used a long nail on her first finger to scoop a heap of the powder out before stirring it into the oil. The oil gradually darkened, thickening as it did. The woman touched it to her finger and pursed her lips in a frown. She took another smaller scoop of the powder and added this to the rest, stirring it until it mixed completely in.

  “Try this,” the woman said.

  Carth touched her finger to the oil and found it stickier than she remembered nevern oil having been. She motioned for Kel to come to her and smeared it liberally around his neck, covering the angry purple bruise.

  “It… burns.”

  “Of course it burns, boy. You’re using nevern oil. It’s painful at first, but that’s how it gets beneath the surface. This should keep for nearly three days before you have to reapply. Not sure how long a mark like that will remain, but probably a week or two.”

  Carth realized that she didn’t have anything to store the oil in.

  The older woman seemed to realize it as well. She tapped the side of the bowl and disappeared into a part of the shop where Carth couldn’t easily see her for a moment before reappearing carrying a small glass vial with a thick hunk of wax for a seal. “This should take care of you.”

  Carth took the vial with a cautious smile. “How much will we owe you?”

  “For the nevern and vashi leaf? I think a copper is plenty. For the vial? Another copper.”

  Carth blinked. That was much less than what she would have expected. She slid the two copper nils that Kel had given her across the counter. “Thank you.”

  “No thanks. If you bring the vial back when you’re done, I’ll give you the copper back. It don’t look to me like the two of you have all that much to spare.”

  Carth glanced at Kel. “Thanks,” she said again.

  The herbalist nodded and hobbled back into her shop, disappearing.

  Carth grabbed Kel by the arm, not wanting to remain any longer than was necessary, and pulled him from the shop. Back in the sunlight, she examined the effect the oil had on Kel’s neck. It wasn’t perfect—if she stared closely at his skin, she could see that something wasn’t quite right—but it was much less noticeable than it had been. And in the light of the tavern, it was likely that Vera wouldn’t even notice.

  “How does it look?”

  Carth glanced over to the herbalist and found her watching through her window, staring out at them. “I think it will work well.”

  Kel smiled. “I can’t believe it was only a copper!”

  Carth couldn’t either. There had to be something that they were missing, only she didn’t know what that would be. As they made their way from the herbalist, a sense of longing lingered within her, one that reminded her of a simpler time, one of travels and games and a time when she didn’t need to fear for her safety or worry about her friend. Seeing the herbalist left her wondering what would become of her now. How long could she stay with Vera and Hal? Not indefinitely, but where would she go?

  9

  The stain faded by the middle of the third day. It happened quickly, almost as if the oil holding the vashi leaf powder simply stopped working. Had Carth not been watching Kel as he searched for scraps near one of the other taverns along River Street, she doubted that she would have noticed. As it was, she hurried over to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Your neck.”

  Kel stared ahead, watching a woman carrying a stack of fabric. Could the fool really think to take scraps from a shop owner? More than anything else, if he was discovered, Vera would definitely throw him out.

  “What about it?” he asked absently. He moved forward, ignoring the way that she followed him.

  “The oil has faded.”

  Carth touched the side of his neck and Kel jerked his head back and winced. Now that the oil had disappeared, it was clear that the bruising was still there. Not quite as purple, but it still appeared angry and hadn’t seemed to fade nearly as much as Carth would have expected by now. Had Kel been more badly hurt than she had realized?

  “Careful!”

  “I didn’t know it was still bothering you.”

  “It’s not a bother,” he said.

  Carth pulled the vial of oil from her pocket and shook it. “You need to use this again.”

  Kel watched the woman hungrily, as if he intended to take her stack of fabrics from her, before turning back to Carth. “Get it over with.”

  She unstoppered the bottle and dabbed her finger to the surface. The oil had the same sticky consistency that she’d noted before, and she smeared it along his neck, quickly covering the bruising.

  Kel clenched his jaw, breathing out with a soft groan. “It burns.”

  “I’m sorry. You need to use this.”

  “I might need to use it, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  When Carth finished, she brought the oil-coated finger to her nose. Nevern oil didn’t have much of an odor, but the vashi leaves powdered and mixed into the oil had a sharp, almost hot, scent to them.

  “You done?” he asked.

  Carth stuffed the wax back into the bottle. There wasn’t much of the oil remaining—enough to coat him one more time, then she’d have to return to the herbalist for more. She doubted that would be a problem—the last few days she’d found herself drawn toward the herbalist shop. She could abandon the desire for vengeance and ask the old woman to let her apprentice. Carth figured she’d learned enough from her mother to make her useful. Once, she’d even thought she saw the woman watching before Carth scurried off, drifting back into the shadows of the street, always to return here.

  “It’s done. You don’t have to act like I tortured you.”

  “Who’s acting?”

  Carth pushed him away, scanning the street for her next target. At midday, finding someone could be difficult. There were always plenty of people out in the streets, but often they were not the kind of people that she felt comfortable taking scraps from. Unlike Kel, she wasn’t willing to go after shop owners, or even other women.

  The longer she did this, the more she began to question whether she should. This wasn’t the reason she remained here. She might not have a place to stay otherwise, but shouldn’t she use her time to find a way to get revenge?

  Kel locked eyes on someone and started away from her without a word. Carth watched, worried that he’d do something stupid again. He’d already nearly gotten caught twice, and both times he had needed her help in getting free. What would happen if she w
eren’t there?

  She heard the footsteps approaching and didn’t need to turn to recognize Etan. He leaned in and spoke into her ear with a hot breath.

  “I saw what you did with him.”

  Spinning, she jabbed at Etan with her finger. A part of her wished she could poke at him with her knife. “And what did I do with him?”

  “What happened to Kel?” Etan asked.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Etan sniffed. “I think you know exactly what I mean. You’ve got something in your pocket.” He made a play to grab at her, but she was quicker than him and danced back and away from his attempt to grab at her pocket. “I’ll find out what it is.”

  “You couldn’t reach me if you wanted to,” Carth said.

  Etan’s face contorted, twisting in an angry mask. “Careful, or you might find yourself woken in ways that you don’t care for.”

  Carth thought about pulling the knife out of her pocket and jabbing it at Etan, but that wouldn’t do anything but inspire him to pick on her more. She had enough trouble with him already; she didn’t need to motivate him to do anything more.

  “What do you think you can do?” she dared him.

  Etan grabbed for her arm, but Carth backed away, slipping into the crowd.

  She expected him to leave her, thinking that she would have to deal with him later, but he surprised her and gave chase, wearing a determined and satisfied look on his face.

  Carth weaved between the crowd, getting as far from him as she could. She didn’t fear Etan catching her here. That wasn’t anything that he would do. No, she feared him attempting something while she slept. But she didn’t want to let him catch her now.

  She moved quickly, sticking to the sides of the streets, knowing ways to hide that she doubted he had discovered, keeping along the buildings, where she wouldn’t have to work so hard to avoid running into people in the street. She put space between her and him as she worked her way up Doland Street. When she paused, she noted that he still chased her, hurrying up the street, unmindful of crashing into others as he did.

  No… that wasn’t what he did. The fool thought to bump and steal as he chased her! All it would take would be crashing into the wrong person, making the wrong lift, much like what Kel had experienced. She would have no interest in trying to help him if he did, not after the way that he’d been treating her.

  She turned a corner, not wanting to watch.

  The street was emptier than most, and darkened by the height of the buildings so that the sunlight didn’t quite reach, leaving shadows stretching long across the cobbles. Carth moved quickly, trying to get as far away from Etan as was possible, but curiosity made her hesitate.

  She turned back toward Doland Street.

  As she did, she caught sight of a flash of maroon on a pair of men marching toward the docks.

  A’ras.

  They were rarely seen down by the docks. They came from time to time, but not as often as they patrolled in the rest of the city.

  Slipping to the end of the street, she stood at the intersection, watching the A’ras as they made their way toward River Road. She saw no sign of Etan. At least he had the presence of mind to get out of the street when the A’ras came through. Risking their wrath meant certain imprisonment.

  There came a soft scream.

  Carth started forward, cursing herself. What was she doing risking herself against the A’ras? If they noticed her, they would have no reason not to pull her to them. And if they noticed her and realized that she carried one of their knives… that probably meant death.

  There came another scream.

  Damn the A’ras!

  After what they had done to her family, a part of her wished that she had the same skill as Felyn, able to kill them with barely more effort than taking a stroll. All she had was her knife and the ability to move quietly. Maybe that was the real reason that her parents had taught her how to move quietly, to track without being seen, and to notice if someone followed. That would be a better reason than becoming the thief that she was.

  She nearly reached River Road when she found the body.

  An older man with dark hair much like her father’s lay on the road, his neck split, and warm blood still pouring out onto the stones. He didn’t move. Carth examined him, reaching into his pockets by instinct, and found a small purse that she pocketed. A slender knife rested under his arm.

  Had this man thought to attack the A’ras?

  What kind of fool thing was happening here? Were they finally coming after the Thevers? In the time she’d been on the docks, the Thevers hadn’t bothered her at all, but she knew the A’ras intended to push them from the city.

  Carth heard another shout.

  She spun, twisting back toward the shadows of the nearest building, not wanting to be so easily seen in the street when the A’ras were out.

  Nothing moved.

  Where had Etan gone?

  She should have passed him as she made her way down the street, unless he had veered off through one of the alleys, but she didn’t think he had sense enough for that. Etan would have turned and run, not even smart enough to make an effort of hiding himself as he did.

  Carth crept along the edge of the building, now holding onto the A’ras knife. The streets were silent, which troubled her more than anything. There should be noise of some sort: voices, or running, or even the steady rush of water along the rocks. Carth heard nothing.

  She stopped at the corner. In the distance, she saw the sign for the Wounded Lyre, flapping in the steady breeze. The door to the tavern remained open.

  Vera would never have left the door open.

  Carth almost started forward when she saw a flicker of movement.

  Near the opposite end of the street, it seemed as if shadows moved, almost as if they were alive.

  Carth backed along the street again, afraid to move too far into the light. Whatever was out there made her nervous for reasons that she didn’t understand.

  Where had the A’ras gone?

  She peeked her head around the corner, staying low to the ground, and saw another flicker of shadow come, but this time closer.

  Steel clanged on steel.

  Unable to help herself, she stood, looking around the corner.

  One of the A’ras had his sword unsheathed and battled something she couldn’t see from her vantage. The A’ras moved quickly, and with deadly speed, but a dozen cuts lined his arms and his chest, telling Carth that he didn’t move quickly enough, not for what he faced.

  Not the Thevers. They were an ordinary sort.

  Could that be Felyn?

  He was the only person she’d ever seen move that quickly. No one else had the skill to withstand the A’ras. That was the reason they were so feared.

  The fight shifted as another of the A’ras joined.

  They danced down the street, moving away from the shops and toward the rocks, and then around a bend, until they were no longer visible.

  Carth let out a shuddering breath.

  What had she just witnessed?

  People gradually came back out onto the street. Most looked around hesitantly, as if they were uncertain whether it was safe to return. A few hurried away from the docks, reaching Doland Street and passing her quickly as they raced away from the river.

  Carth made her way toward the tavern. The door remained open, and no one had emerged from it. A nervous sensation in her stomach brought her forward, though there should be no reason for it. If the A’ras remained, the street would still have been empty. That it wasn’t should reassure her.

  At the door to the tavern, Carth hesitated. She rarely came into the tavern during the day. The daytime was for selling Vera’s wares, or collecting scraps, not for sitting around inside while Vera baked and prepared for the evening rush. Hal ran errands, purchasing supplies, rolling barrels of ale and casks of wine from his suppliers or sourcing meats and flour and other ingredients that Vera needed to manage the tavern.
<
br />   Inside, nothing moved.

  Her heart fluttered a little faster.

  She stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind her.

  Carth scanned the tavern, but there was no one here. At this time of day, there should be a few people, at least. Staying along the wall, one hand still gripping her knife, she made her way to the kitchen. The door to the kitchen remained closed, and the small window was too high for her to easily peer into.

  Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open.

  Vera stood next to the oven, kneading a thick roll of dough.

  Tension left Carth’s shoulders and she breathed out in a sigh.

  Vera glanced over. “You’re here early, girl. You done selling already?” she asked, eyeing Carth’s empty hands.

  Carth swallowed. One of these days, she feared Vera would discover that she didn’t try to sell her breads or crafts for much. “Not yet. I… I was just checking that you were okay.”

  Vera leaned forward on the dough, pressing it flat with her large hands, resting her weight on it. “Why would you be worried about me?”

  Carth glanced toward the tavern. “There’s no one here.”

  Vera’s eyes narrowed. “Hal was out there just a bit ago, girl. There were a handful of customers, enough to keep me busy when I should be getting my preparations ready for tonight.”

  “Where would he have gone?”

  “Hal? The gods only know where that one goes. Trust him to get into trouble.”

  Carth felt the uneasy feeling begin to return. Vera thought that Hal had still been in the tavern, and the door had been open after the A’ras came through. “Did they come in here?”

  “Did who, girl? Are you feeling well? You’re acting strange.”

  She licked her lips and swallowed. “The A’ras. Did they come in here?”

  Vera paused in between flipping the dough over and slammed it onto the table. She stood upright, straightening her back, and blinked slowly. “Now why do you have to go and mention them here?”

  “They were on the street. A pair of them were here.”