A Song of Shadows

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A Song of Shadows Page 9

by Jenna Wolfhart


  I nodded.

  “Good.” And with that, he pressed against the door to the shop.

  My breath was frozen in my lungs as my eyes swept across the interior of the shop. At once, the tension that gripped my shoulders loosened just the slightest of notches. I wasn’t entirely sure what I’d expected—blood dribbling down the walls, maybe. Skeletons waiting to drop from the ceiling. Jars of thumbs and eyeballs.

  But Grim looked…surprisingly normal, as far as magical shops in the land of the fae could look normal. Homemade wooden shelves had been propped up along each wall, and they were full with a variety of trinkets, manuscripts, jewellery, and clothes. Along the furthest wall, a long skinny table separated the shop from the keeper’s tiny office. A female fae with bright golden hair sat hunched over some kind of parchment. Her face was about two inches from it, and her tongue was stuck out between her lips.

  “If you’re here to cause trouble, you’ll find yourself flat on your backside within seconds.” She ripped her gaze from the parchment and stood a little straighter when she saw me and Rourke hovering by the still-open door. “Oh. Actual visitors. I’m sorry. I thought you were one of those nuisances out there. Well, go on and shut the door. Don’t want to attract their attention, now do we?”

  Rourke’s movement was so smooth that I didn’t even see his hand move from the door. The cringes creaked as the heavy wood slammed behind us.

  “Come on in and look around. Or is there something particular I can help you with?”

  “I’m sorry,” Rourke said, taking a step further into the warm atmosphere of the shop. There was even a crackling blaze in the fireplace. “We’re here to speak with Pan Peelan, the shopkeeper, about an object he may have collected over the years.”

  She gave a nod. “I’m Raine. Pan was my father. He got into a bit of a tricky situation with Queen Viola a few years ago, and well, let’s just say that I’ve inherited the shop from him and leave it at that.”

  “You’re not a Wild Fae,” I finally said. “Are you?”

  “Goodness, no.” She laughed and shook her head. “I’ll admit, it’s not the most ideal of locations for the shop, but it’s my father’s legacy, and it’s where everyone knows to look. I live just across the border in the Autumn woods, and I come here to trade at night. Luckily, they leave me alone for the most part.”

  Rourke frowned and moved toward the nearest shelf, one that housed a collection of sparkling silver jewellery. Rings and necklaces, bracelets and hair pieces. “How familiar are you with your father’s collection? The item we’re looking for may have passed through here as long as eighteen years ago.”

  “Eighteen years ago.”

  Rourke nodded and moved onto the next shelf. I trailed behind him, my eyes darting to each object, disappointed each time I saw something somewhat stone-like, only to find it was anything but.

  “That’s right,” he said.

  “I must say, that’s an interesting timeframe,” the shopkeeper said. “And quite specific. Eighteen years, you said. I don’t suppose you could give me a better indication of what it is you’re looking for?”

  “It would be a small stone. Dark gray. Perhaps a bit smaller than your hand.”

  “I see.” The woman’s eyes flicked from Rourke to me. “Well, there’s nothing like that out front here, but I have a fairly extensive inventory in the back. More specialized items, if you will. Careful not to touch any of that, dear.”

  My hand was hovering a mere inch away from a small notebook. A crinkly old thing with pages that were too old and mottled to allow the leather cover to properly shut.

  “These are Death Objects. If you touch them, you will extract an essence of the deceased. That one right there belonged to a murderous Wilde Fae. I would avoid that if I were you. Not to mention, it ruins it for sale, and you’d have to purchase it as well.”

  My hand dropped like a stone to my side, and the shopkeeper gave me a tight smile.

  “I’ll just head into the back to have a look through my inventory. It shouldn’t take too long. Feel free to look around the shop for anything else you might find of interest but remember what I said. No touching the merchandise. I’ll know if you do.”

  The shopkeeper disappeared behind a thick golden curtain, and Rourke was by my side within an instant.

  I frowned at where the shopkeeper had disappeared. “She’s strange.”

  “She’s surrounded by objects imbued with death all day,” he said in a low voice. “Her father was even stranger.”

  “Do you think she has it?”

  “She certainly seemed to know what I was referencing, though it’s hard to say whether she has her hands on it or not. I must warn you. She may try to give us a lemon. It wouldn’t be the first time Grim attempted to sell a fake. You’re most certainly going to have to test whatever she brings out.”

  “How am I going to do that without touching it?”

  But Rourke didn’t have a chance to answer. The shopkeeper returned, her lips wide and poking up in the corners. In her gloved hands, she held a small stone that was no larger than my thumb. It didn’t look like anything special. It was dark gray, flat, and perfectly normal. If I’d seen it on the ground, I wouldn’t have even noticed it.

  “This stone was found within Queen Marin’s dress, which came to us after her timely death.”

  I wrinkled my nose at her words, but she merely continued.

  “I believe,” she said, her eyes flashing, “this is the object you are looking for.”

  Rourke strode forward and frowned down at the tiny little stone. His face betrayed nothing. Even I couldn’t tell whether or not he was impressed by the rock. He let out a light sigh and tsked before glancing over his shoulder at me.

  “Could you come closer, please? I can’t be certain this is it.”

  “I assure you, this stone could be nothing other than the object you were inquiring about,” the shopkeeper said.

  I strode up to Rourke’s side and stared at the stone. Up close, it didn’t look any different. Bland, boring, endlessly gray. With a slight shrug, I said, “I guess this could be it, but it’s hard to say.”

  The shopkeeper huffed. “Honestly, this is ridiculous and more than a little insulting. To be accused of lying—”

  “Let us test it, just to be sure,” Rourke said.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Most certainly not. You cannot touch a Death Object unless you intend on paying for it. Otherwise, it’s worthless to me.”

  “I don’t need to touch it,” I said, holding out my hands. “I can use your gloves. There’s no harm in that, right?”

  It was a long, silent moment before the shopkeeper spoke again. I could tell that she wasn’t inclined to let us do this, but there’d also been a clue I hadn’t missed. Grim did not get very many visitors. This wasn’t the kind of place to move a lot of merchandise. She was desperate for us to purchase from her, and she wouldn’t turn down a potential customer, regardless of how badly she wanted to say no to our test.

  Finally, she set the stone gently on the table and pulled off her gloves. “Very well. You may examine it for a moment. But if there’s any funny business with this object, I’ll be forced to make you pay.”

  “Got it.” I grabbed the gloves and pushed the rough material over my hands just as heavy footsteps thudded on the stairs outside the shop.

  Rourke twisted toward it, his head cocked. “Let me guess. We’re about to have some Wilde Fae visitors.”

  “Oh no. It’s much better than that,” came the steely voice of the shopkeeper. “That will be the Queen’s personal guard, here to take you in. You see, I know who you are, Rourke. You’re a rebel and a traitor, and you and this changeling have been working with the Summer fae.”

  My heart thundered in my chest as the realization of what she’d done swept over me. She had alerted the Autumn Court that we were here. How, I didn’t know, but she had. And now, all we could do was wait for them to barge through that door. We were trapped. We h
ad no hope of an escape.

  Rourke grabbed my gloved hand, threw it on top of the stone, and pressed his forehead tight to mine. His skin was hot; his eyes were wild. He’d never looked so fierce in that moment.

  “Do it,” he hissed in a harsh whisper. “Hide yourself.”

  The footsteps grew louder. They were only seconds away from storming inside now.

  “Rourke, no. What about you? I can’t—”

  His hand cupped my cheek. “You promised you’d obey me. Hide yourself. Now.”

  My heart felt split in two, but I couldn’t ignore the desperation in his eyes. I’d promised him. I couldn’t go back on my word now, even if it meant hiding in fear instead of standing to fight. With a heavy sigh, I closed my hand around the stone and focused on the shadows that caressed Rourke’s face. That uneasy feeling slid over me, cloaking me in darkness just as the shop’s door blew open.

  Four Autumn Hunters strode in, and Rourke dropped his hand from my face at once. He stood facing the Hunters, his hands curled by his sides. He was the perfect image of cold and calculating calm. His face was blank, his eyes focused on the fae before him. Not even the tip of his pinky quivered, even when the four fae raised their swords. He was pure steel, I realized. Pure, unbreakable steel.

  “This is him?” the male in front barked, flicking his fingers to the three behind him. They spread out in an arc, easing closer to where Rourke stood in the center of the floor. They were the ones with the sword, but it was almost as if they were afraid of him.

  “Rourke, the rebel,” the shopkeeper said. “Just as you requested.”

  Just as they requested? What did that mean?

  “And the changeling?” the Hunter asked. “You said she was here.”

  “The changeling is gone,” Rourke said coolly.

  The Hunter narrowed his eyes, and he lifted his chin toward the shopkeeper behind me. I hadn’t moved the slightest of inches since they’d barged through the door, too afraid that if I did, they might hear the floorboards creak underneath my trembling feet.

  “Is this true?” he asked the shopkeeper.

  She stammered for a moment before she managed to find her voice. “I don’t know what happened. She was here one minute, and then she was gone.”

  So, she didn’t know the power of the stone then.

  “I thought this shit-hole blocked shifting,” he said, his voice growing angrier and angrier by the minute.

  I kept my breath held tight in my throat. For some reason, these Hunters were looking for me. Maybe if they thought I had fled, they’d leave this place and go searching for me. Maybe they would let Rourke go, and all of this could end.

  “It does block shifting. I don’t understand how she got out.”

  “I see.” The Hunter motioned at Rourke, and soon, his three friends formed a circle around my instructor. They snatched his arms from his side, twisting them behind his back. There was a flash of pain in Rourke’s eyes, but it was only an instant, too fast for them to see.

  My heart leapt into my throat, and I took a step forward, hand outstretched. They were going to take Rourke. I had to do something, anything, to stop them.

  But his cool voice broke through my thoughts, causing my feet to slow. “You made a promise.”

  And then he was gone.

  Chapter Ten

  My feet wouldn’t move, even after the three Hunters dragged Rourke out of the Grim’s front door. The fourth stayed inside. The leader, I was guessing. He strode forward, his golden cloak billowing behind him. Abruptly, he stopped just short of the shopkeeper’s desk, leaned down, and braced his fists on the table.

  “I told you I wanted the changeling, but all you’ve given me is Rourke. The Queen will not be pleased.”

  Raine sniffed and lifted her chin. “He’s a good find on his own. I can’t help it if you didn’t get here fast enough to catch her.”

  The two of them were only inches from where I stood, my feet still frozen to the wood floor. My hands itched to do something. If only I had my weapons. I could take my sword and chase after those Hunters who had Rourke.

  My sword, I realized. No one could see me right now. I could go after my sword and get Rourke safe. No one would see it coming. They’d never even know I was there until it was too late.

  But first, I had to get out of the shop without tipping this Hunter off to the fact that I was here and invisible to anyone but myself.

  “‘Course, I’m not greedy. Just give me half of what I’m owed.”

  The Hunter let out a low, eerie chuckle, the kind of sound that sent a tremor of unease down my spine. “You let the changeling get away, and you want what you’re owed? Alright. I think I can manage that for you.”

  The shopkeeper’s lips twisted into a smirk, and she held out her hands, palm up. The Hunter reached down to his belt, his fingers closing around the hilt of his sword. I realized what was happening almost a second too late. I had just enough time to stumble out of the way when he yanked his sword from his scabbard, sliced it through the air, and landed his blow right at the base of the shopkeeper’s neck.

  Steel sliced through skin, and a river of blood streamed through the gaping wound. With one hand still wrapped tightly around the stone, I stumbled back, pressing the other against my open mouth. Nausea tumbled through my stomach at the sight, at the wet skin, at the oozing gore, at the way her eyes rolled back in her head.

  Her body fell to the ground with a smack.

  And then the Hunter strode out of there with a satisfied smile, leaving behind a trail of red.

  By the time I’d gathered my wits and made it out of Grim, the Hunters had left the village. The gate was shut, and the streets were rowdy, and my heart felt raw from a terrible kind of ache I’d only felt once before. It was the same feeling I’d had when I’d thought Bree was dead. A heavy loss, a permanent hole, a guilt I couldn’t shake.

  Once again, this was my fault. The Hunters had come here because of me. And I hadn’t done a thing to stop them. Not that I could have, even if I’d wanted to. I feared that Alastar and Phelan were right about me.

  There was only one thing I could do. I had the stone now to protect me from the magic of the shadows. Rourke was a captive of the very same people I needed to spy on. Time to go to Esari and make things right.

  Getting my sword was easy. Getting through the gates was another thing entirely. I had to sit and wait for what felt like hours, perched uncomfortably beside the only exit in the village. After several long hours, a gang of green-haired fae asked to go out into the night. The guard complied, giving me my only chance of an escape.

  Once I was back to the small clearing where Rourke and I had stashed our horses, I pocketed two daggers and fastened my sword to my back. I would have to leave the animals here, as much as I hated to do it. They could not come with me into Esari. So, I gathered all of the supplies I could, and then I let them go.

  Dipping across the border and into the Autumn woods was much easier than I’d expected. There were no archways to find, no optical allusions hiding the way. I merely shadowed myself and stepped across, hoping the power of the spell would see me through. We weren’t far from where Liam and I had entered the forest all those months ago. With the familiar surroundings, I was able to retrace our steps, following the path toward Esari.

  It was a long journey, especially without the help of a horse. Many times I had to stop and rest my feet. I didn’t dare attempt to shift. There was no telling where I might end up or who would see me. Instead, I kept the shadows pulled in tight and plodded my way toward Rourke.

  When I finally found my feet on the well-worn path of the red-and-golden city, I didn’t even pause to breathe a sigh of relief. There was no time to waste, and there was still so much to do. Rourke had been alive when the Hunters had taken him, but that didn’t mean they would spare him for long. So, I kept my gaze locked on the glistening castle in the clouds.

  My entire body ached. The road had been long, and my shoes were rubbing
blisters on my feet. The sword weighed heavy on my back, sending sharp bursts of shooting pain through my core. And my eyes, they were so heavy. The sun was peeking over the horizon, which meant I hadn’t slept a wink all night. I’d been travelling for hours. For how long? I couldn’t say. Eight hours or ten. Perhaps longer.

  But I’d made it. The castle before me rose high into the sky, jagged peaks piercing holes into the gray clouds. There were statues dotted around the courtyard, visions of monsters and wolves and terrible bears. The Autumn fae had connections with animals, I remembered, though not in the same way I felt. They liked to possess them, to control them, to train them to be their army of fur, fangs, and claws.

  A cluster of ornately-dressed female fae caught my attention. They were standing near a lion fountain, reddish water shooting out of an open mouth. They were whispering amongst themselves, giggling. Their long, golden gowns were pristine. Their hair was twisted up into braided crowns.

  These must be some of the Royals, I thought.

  With my breath held tight in my throat, I inched closer to their little group, the sound of my movements drowned out by the fountain’s rushing water.

  “Mother said they believe they’ve found my mate.” Another giggle. “Can you believe it? I think they’re trying to make it up to me, not allowing me to go to the Feast of the Fae so I could have my chance to get that ring.”

  “I still can’t believe they’re saying some first-year changeling found it.” She rolled her golden eyes. “Clearly, there was a mistake. Some changeling isn’t going to be wed before us, not some unknown first-year anyway.”

  “The ring was obviously confused,” the third girl said. “We weren’t there. So, it must have been meant to go to one of us. I think that means you’ll be wed, Cecily. Maybe your mother really has found your mate.”

  The three of them started giggling again, and I fought the urge to drop the shadows just so I could roll my eyes right into their faces. But I had more important things to worry about, so much so that I couldn’t believe I’d ever been worried about the Barmbrack Ring. Whatever it meant didn’t matter, not when Rourke had been captured, and not when the entire realm was on the brink of a terrible war.

 

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