Shadow Lands

by K. F. Breene

  “She is our best hope of defeating the Graygual,” Cayan said easily. “When I recognized that, I joined her cause.”

  “But you lead army?” Jessta pushed.

  “It is his army and he leads it,” Shanti answered, shifting to try and ease off her wounds. The scabs pulled at her skin, ripped in some places and oozed into the bandage.

  “You have big army? Many friend-army?” Jessta asked.

  “Is this an interview to see what you can gain from merging with us, or a means to decide if killing us will increase the threat to your lands?” Cayan asked. His voice was even and diplomatic, but an edge sharpened his words.

  Baos must’ve heard it, because he grimaced. “Please bear with Jessta—she is very direct. And yes, this is an interview of sorts, as well as part of your trial. We’ve never actually given it before. No one has made it past our attack in the darkness, so an exchange of words has never been necessary—we knocked them out instead of sitting by their fire.”

  “So someone has made it this far?” Shanti inquired.

  A smile ghosted Baos’ lips. “Not in the way you have. We have not killed them, but they have not succeeded through the trials. It sounds monstrous, letting hopefuls keep their hope alive while they continue through the trials, but they are always good practice. And since they seek something from us, we feel justified in getting something from them.”

  “No argument there,” Shanti said, adding a log to the climbing flames.

  “I have a small army compared to the Graygual—easily overrun,” Cayan answered. “I have many allies, each with their own armies. Together we are a decent force, but we don’t have any mind-workers. Without Shanti, and you, we would be easily taken down. I have a lot of power, but I don’t know its use, and I wouldn’t be nearly enough.”

  “Your men well-trained. Very loyal.” Jessta shifted her gaze to Shanti. “You need him for army, he need you for Therma. But he not here for us, he here for you. Why you here for us when you have his army already?”

  “Because this is my duty. Following your rules, making it through the trials, and merging my people with our distant kin has been put on my shoulders since a very young age. It’s why I survived the last Graygual battle. My duty was to run like a coward—to escape death. To let all my people die so I could live. Here I am, doing what I’m supposed to do.”

  “To run is no coward. To stay and die is coward,” Jessta said, her gaze boring into Shanti as the light danced up her severe face. “Die is easier. Hurt less. You live in fires of underworld now, yes? You in pain, you hurt—” Jessta balled her fists up near her chest to accent her words. “But you no dead yet. To live with that pain—” she shook her head and blew out a noisy breath. “That hard. Too hard for many. Might break me. But here you are. Is necessary, your journey. You can survive us. You have him,” she nodded to Cayan, “We should brought more tonight, to make harder, but rules say three.” She shrugged. “We bring three.”

  “Did you hear us?” Baos asked.

  “Felt you, more like,” Shanti said, thinking back. “When you’re hunted, as Jessta alluded to, you learn a sixth sense. Usually it’s my Gift that picks it up, but my body is in tune with what’s out there even when my Gift isn’t available.”

  They heard footsteps through the trees. Jessta looked behind her as their third member trudged into the ring of light from the fire with his hand on his temple. A dribble of blood made a track down his neck. Jessta turned to Baos with a smile. “I glad I choose girl.”

  Baos laughed and stood, prompting Jessta to stand with him. He looked down on Cayan, “Your men have saved a few of ours. They are clear what side they are on, look after each other, and are loyal to you. This is inspiring. It shows good leadership, and proof of good leadership was a requirement. I was hesitant about the two of you working together in this—it smacked of favoritism, allowing it. But one of the trials has been met by you, Cayan. Solely by you. Some have been met solely by Shanti. And many you are beating together. We always wondered what kind of person could possibly fulfill all the requirements… and now we know. Joining made you one entity—bonded you in Therma. Now we know.”

  “A hidie-ho might have been nice,” Jessta said, shaking her head. “All the old parchment, and the rules, and all this. Nothing ever mention two candidates. We not plan for two. Bad joke.”

  Baos turned toward the man still holding his head. “Let’s go and let them get back to sleep. They have another day tomorrow.”

  “We all have another day tomorrow,” the third man said, glancing at Cayan and then Shanti. “Watch yourself in here. The Graygual army has grown. And you are not immune.”

  “It is you that are not immune. From me.” Shanti folded her hands in her lap. “I have always been the target. And so has everyone in my wake.”

  “The entire land is target, violet-eyed girl. You are the hope that we do not succumb.” Jessta nodded and walked out of the firelight. Baos winked before following. The third man wasn’t far behind.

  “Well. Another one down.” Cayan pushed back into the shelter. “We’d best get an early start. I heard panic in their words. The Graygual are getting ready to make their move.”

  A thrill went through Shanti. “They’ll move all their people in place, and then they’ll strike. The Shadow seem to be preparing to resist their rule, which is good for us.”

  “Yes. But that might not matter, depending on the numbers.”

  “Killjoy.” Shanti pushed back and lay down, snuggling into Cayan’s body. His arm came around her and pulled her in tight.

  He said, “How are your wounds now?”

  “I’ll need to change the bandages tomorrow, but I’m used to the ache.”

  Shivers let her mind drift, thinking about what would come. The Shadow had tried to sneak up on her twice, once in daylight, once at night. They’d tried a beast, they’d spoken to her, and they’d forced her to live in the wild. Now they would most likely hit her with a few battles, and a few things involving her Gift. All that she could survive. Those were things she excelled at.

  Her worries consisted of the trials she couldn’t see—like the leadership, or whatever else they were looking for. For those she had to trust to the Elder’s guidance, and hope it was enough. That, and that her body would last before infection found its way into her wounds.

  Chapter Eleven

  Portolmous walked through the square on the way to the Shadow Lord’s office to discuss various events taking place in the city. With the Graygual gathering at alarming rates, the city needed to make some serious decisions and prepare for the inevitable.

  As he walked, preoccupied, he noticed someone collaspe in a group of black-clad men.

  A Graygual tripped and skidded to his knees. Rather than getting right up, though, he stayed down for a moment. His hand drifted to his stomach and he let out a loud moan. Another Graygual kicked the downed man with a boot, asking a harsh question. The man on the ground shook his head and tried to climb to his feet, but staggered again. Another loud moan carried across the square.

  “Another,” one of the guards said, standing at the end of the trader stalls lining the large declaration platform at the head of the square.

  Portolmous turned to his man, a younger guard new to the post—one of the many taken from training to police the growing restlessness within the city. “What was that?”

  “We’ve seen this all over the city today. Graygual and Inkna are faltering like that. It looks like a malady of some kind, but so far it’s only affecting those two groups and two nobles. Nasty nobles, at that. But then, the Graygual really only keep to themselves, so someone probably brought something over and they are now spreading it around.”

  “Is it serious?” Portolmous asked as the man on the ground vomited. His army gathered around, none of them reaching down to help.

  “Yes. I’ve not heard of anyone surviving it.”

  Portolmous looked at his guard in surprise. “Surviving? You mean this is killing
them?”

  “Yes, sir. Dropping them just like this.”

  “Poison, then.”

  The guard crinkled his eyebrows. “Could be, but those affected are spread out all over. They don’t really keep the same company. I mean… they do, but I’ve heard mutterings that only a few have even been in the same room lately. The rest are on different schedules.”

  It was Portolmous’ turn to crinkle his eyebrows as he moved on. He thought of the known poison-workers in the city, all of them sneaky, all looking for monetary gain. The Graygual had been reported as the biggest employers, aiming their assault at the contingent from the Westwood Lands.

  So far, all had failed. The young woman with them had saved at least three so far, one of them from the brink of death. She appeared to be a healer, which had surprised many. When they’d first come, many of the Shadow people had thought the Westwood Isles men had brought a pretty, young woman to share. If that wasn’t bad enough, they segregated her from the group when in public, making her stand to one side when the rest of the men sat and ate or drank.

  As Portolmous left the square, he understood exactly what was going on. The Captain had come prepared, and had chosen someone no one would suspect to do the secretive, dirty work. Those men trusted her with their lives. They’d given her freedom to come and go where she would, while the rest were given commands as usual. It spoke highly of their unity and organization, especially since many in the mainland didn’t allow females into their military units.

  The Westwood Isles men continued to surprise him. The young woman was thinning the enemy’s herd, and not a moment too soon.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cayan and Shanti set out early the next day once Shanti had changed her bandages and applied more salve. They headed north, aiming towards the city, hoping to get this leg of their journey over with. As the sun peered through the clouds now and again, Shanti turned up her face to catch the warmth.

  “I missed this,” she said with a smile, holding onto Cayan’s sleeve so she could close her eyes while still moving. “It rains so often in this place, it’s no wonder everyone is so pale.”

  “Your home had more sun?”

  “Oh yes. Lots of fog, especially during the summer—it rolled in off the ocean—but the spring and fall were beautiful.”

  “Yet you always complain about the heat in my city.”

  Shanti could hear the smile in Cayan’s voice. She opened her eyes and enjoyed the lush green of their surroundings. “We had sun, but it wasn’t the blistering kind.”

  “Ah.”

  They stepped through two trees close together. Their Gifts unfurled like a tongue from a serpent. It blossomed and flowed, plucking out and offering up small animal minds as it searched.

  Shanti stopped dead as it rolled over a host of human minds, laying in wait.

  Cayan dove behind the trees, dragging her with him, as a blast of power rocked into her mind. She slammed down her shields at the same time Cayan did, but not before she felt activity as the enemy rose up to attack.

  “Shadow?” Cayan asked, jumping to a crouch and ripping out his sword.

  “No!” Shanti snatched two knives, left her pack, and dodged to the other side of the tree, throwing her knife. It stuck into a Graygual neck, off-center. Despite the error, the man fell, clutching at the handle. Shanti ducked back at the sound of a bowstring being loosed. An arrow flew past.

  “Let your power loose, Cayan!” she yelled, opening up and immediately fighting the barrage of power that battered her mind.

  Cayan stepped around the tree, threw a knife and ducked back in as two arrows whizzed by. He gave Shanti a glance before his shields dropped. Shock waves of intense power boomed from him, heading toward the horde of Graygual and Inkna. The counterattack stopped the Inkna assault, having them ducking behind their mental shields quickly. Shrieks and grunts sounded, men now unprotected as the Inkna focused solely on protecting themselves.

  Shanti sprinted toward the three nearest Graygual, hunkered on the ground holding their chests or heads. Another blast of power surged from Cayan. Shanti slashed through a neck, stooped to grab her knife from the neck of the Graygual, and stabbed another in the eye.

  She felt the build of power as more than twenty Inkna merged together. A man in white stood upright before a single shot of fire pierced through Cayan’s attack. Shanti’s power was freed up with the merge she and Cayan had created, and more powerful for it. With her mind she worked within that tight weave, unraveling and redirecting, freeing Cayan up from defense.

  His next blast of power pushed out as he ran into the clearing, sword swinging, movements so fast they almost blurred. Shanti stabbed her knife through a cranium as she dodged between the cringing men. She targeted the mind of the head Inkna and blasted into it, shaking his merge. As Cayan’s powerful blasts fell she worked within them, slashing and stabbing, then wrestling with the other minds as she did the same with her knives.

  Voices screamed around her. She dodged the feeble swing of a sword as the merged mind slashed at her. She shielded for a moment so she could smash her foot into a Graygual’s face, breaking his nose. She tossed her knife up, grabbed it by the tip of the blade, and threw, hitting a Graygual in the back as he advanced on Cayan.

  “Stop your power and take some of the men down, Cayan,” she yelled, stabbing a Graygual chest before bending to grab another’s head and wrench. His neck snapped. She scooped up his sword, hefted it twice, getting the feel for the weight, as Cayan’s power fell away.

  With a burst of single-minded focus, he whirled into the enemy, blocking and cutting people down as if they were tied together and unable to move. They were just too slow and less skilled than him. It showed.

  The Inkna mind was back, hammering at her shield. She blocked a Graygual sword strike before turning to combat another thrust. She stabbed out with her mind, pushing back the mental assault while she physically stabbed the Graygual through the belly. As he fell she summoned all the power at her disposal, a huge undercurrent of her and Cayan’s combined strength, and thrust at the head Inkna mind in the merge.

  Horrified, terrorized screams erupted as the Inkna minds fractured. The white-shirted Master Executioner crumpled to the ground, his brain turned to pulp. The others withered in agony and confusion, barely alive. Shanti summoned another surge of power, gathered it up, and TORE through the minds that still remained. Her power raked, clawed and chewed through the intellects. The screams rose in pitch before one by one they fell silent as the Inkna died.

  Wasting no time, Shanti whirled between two Graygual, slashing the chest of one, feinting, and stabbing the thigh of the other. The second man yelled and clutched at his leg. Shanti hacked down on his neck before ducking an attacker from her left.

  Another man ran towards her, but didn’t make it. As Shanti took out the man to her left, gathering her power to take out Graygual with both mind and body, the running man arched his back with a blood-curdling scream. He reached for his shoulders as he sank down to his knees.

  Cayan stood behind him, huge and bloodied, blue eyes wild. He glanced at the man falling to her left before turning his gaze to the side, looking for more.

  Trying to catch her breath, Shanti stepped backwards out of the tangled limbs of those on the ground and looked around. Blood ran freely from Graygual bodies, pooling in the mud and shining crimson in the wet grass. Cayan had taken down more than half as he’d worked his way through them. Lifeless Inkna lay on the ground, their faces still screwed up in pain.

  She glanced down at the throbbing ache in her leg. Blood splotched her pants, both from the spray from killing and the seeping from bleeding. She pushed down her pants and stepped out. Her bandages were soaked through, the scabs torn open and bleeding freely.

  “Blood is good—blood cleans the wound,” Cayan said, catching his breath with his hands on his hips. “I tend to get a lot of practice with these Graygual.” He smiled through his heavy breathing, his dimples masked by the shadow
of his unshaven face.

  “You took down more than me,” she said in faux-irritation.

  He laughed, a great booming sound. His gaze scanned the back line of Inkna. “Not if you count all of them.”

  “True.” She searched the littered men for an officer. The highest ranked had four slashes, a few had three. These weren’t the worst Xandre had to offer, but they weren’t the best, either. He was testing her by sacrificing those he was most able to lose.

  “He’ll have learned a lot about the strength of our power and our fighting ability from this,” Shanti said, finding a clean undershirt and stripping the Graygual.

  “Without a verbal report?”

  “He sent in this many, of this fighting caliber, and none will come back. It’s a pretty clear message.”

  “At least he didn’t kill or take us,” Cayan answered, rifling through a pack he’d taken off of a Graygual. “A map. They’ve mapped this whole place, it looks like. Whoever’s in charge has been at this a while—he’s done his homework. And this is a copy.”

  “Xandre always does his homework. At least this isn’t my fault—this started before I got here.”

  “None of this is your fault, mesasha.”

  Shanti suspected that Cayan was trying to soften his tone for that name, but with adrenaline running through his body, it came out more like a growl.

  She kind of liked that better.

  A disturbance fluttered the edges of her severely weakened power. More minds came, slow and focused. She knew it would be the Shadow people, readying their attack.

  “More,” she said, bowing with the strain.

  Another flutter at their back, then their side. They were being boxed in. The attack was completely synchronized.

  “Flak,” she breathed, plotting the minds in her head and factoring in her speed given her throbbing leg. “If we run, we may be able to get through on the north-east.”