Ruled by Shadows (Light and Darkness Book 1)

by Jayne Castel

  A few yards down the hill, the trees began—a dense thicket of conifers that covered the ground in a thick, bristling mattress. The scent of pine resin filled the wet dawn air, and a thin mist snaked through the trees.

  Lilia ran a hand over her face and blinked her stinging eyes. She was starting to feel seriously sleep-deprived and wondered how she’d manage the day’s journey. Not that any of the others looked fresh either. In the light of the grey dawn, their faces were all haggard and drawn.

  Wordlessly, for none of them were in the mood to converse, they made their way down the hill to last night’s campsite.

  Devastation greeted them.

  The horses were gone, no doubt after breaking free of their tethers they’d bolted in terror. With a sinking heart, Lilia realized that they’d be completing the rest of the journey on foot.

  The hide tent—their only means of portable shelter—had been ripped to shreds. It looked like the Hiriel, furious that their quarry had escaped them, had returned here and vented their rage.

  Standing in the midst of it all, Lilia looked around her. “So we know now that fire won’t stop them.”

  “Evidently,” Ryana replied, her voice raspy from fatigue. “I suggest we avoid lighting a fire tonight.”

  “It just drew them to us,” Dain confirmed with a pained look. He unstoppered a bladder of water and drank deeply. “Better we blend in at night from now on.”

  “Which means we’re going to have to stop well before dark and look for a suitable hiding place,” Saul said, kicking at the smoking embers of last night’s fire. He glanced over at Ryana. “Can you estimate how long will it take us to reach the Royal City on foot?”

  “I’d say it’s still another four days, possibly five,” she said with a heavy sigh. “We’re going to have to travel off the road. That’ll slow us down.”

  This news made Lilia’s already low mood darken.

  At least four more nights out here in the wilderness, running from the shadows.

  We’ll never make it.

  To distract herself from her gloomy thoughts, she dug into her pack for a piece of bread. Washing it down with a gulp of water, she met Dain’s eye.

  “Don’t worry, Lily.” He gave her a tired smile. “We’ll look out for you.”

  She attempted to return the smile but failed. “I know you will,” she murmured. “Only there’s little three of you can do if we’re cornered by Hiriel again with nowhere to hide.”

  His expression tightened. “Then we’ll have to make sure it never comes to that.”

  Behind him, Saul snorted. “Careful not to make promises you can’t keep, Dain.”

  Dain glanced over his shoulder, his gaze narrowing as it settled upon Saul.

  “Come on,” Ryana interrupted, shattering the tension between the two men. “We need to move.”

  22

  The Valley

  They set off. The party of four travelled a few furlongs south of the Eastern Road, although careful to keep the highway in sight lest they got lost. Ryana led the way, her cloak flapping behind her as she strode east. The morning mist had drifted away, although a dull cap of grey hung overhead.

  Lilia followed at the enchanter’s heels, struggling to keep up with her long stride, as the men following close behind. Ryana cut a majestic figure. Her thick unbound blonde hair fluttered around her in the breeze, the color of ripe barley despite the dull day, and she walked tall and proud, even after an exhausting, sleepless night.

  Despite days travelling in her company, Lilia still found Ryana hard to fathom. She knew little about this woman. Ryana kept her own counsel most of the time, and had become increasingly quiet, the farther east they travelled.

  Puffing as she climbed a steep hill, Lilia turned her attention back to her surroundings. Daylight now bathed the land, but she was on edge. The Hiriel were still out there somewhere—waiting, biding their time. The air was heavy and humid this morning—a reminder that despite the lack of sun, it was summer.

  On the Isle of Orin, folk would be harvesting the first of the summer fruit and preparing for the Midsummer Fire Festival. She wondered what those of her misty green isle made of this strange weather, or if anyone suspected something was amiss.

  Lilia reached the top of yet another hill and paused to catch her breath. Around her, the Highlands rippled out; endless wild valleys of trees stretched in every direction. The landscape was majestic, ancient—and if Lilia hadn’t been so worried about her survival out here, she would have thought it lovely.

  Behind her, Saul and Dain climbed the last stretch of the hill. Lilia turned to watch them, and—not for the first time—found herself comparing the two men. They were of similar age, but all likeness ended there.

  Saul was tall, dark and dangerous—clad in black leather and armed with enough steel to bring down a charging boar. His face had a lean, chiseled beauty, his gaze hawkish. Dain’s appeal was different. He was shorter than Saul, his build lighter, and his movements were more agile. He moved with a fluid, stalking grace. Having seen him shirtless she knew his body was lean and finely muscled. His shaggy, light-brown hair curled around the collar of his tunic. His handsome, boyish features would age well, like his father’s. And his piercing blue eyes were filled with sharp intelligence.

  Yes, they were entirely different breeds of men—but both pleasant to gaze upon nonetheless.

  “Lilia!” Ryana’s voice, sharp with irritation, jerked her back to the present. “Hurry up—we don’t have time to admire the view.”

  Lilia swiveled on her heel just as the men crested the hill, and fled down the other side after Ryana. She hoped Saul and Dain hadn’t caught her staring at them.

  Now wasn’t the time for such distractions.

  She jogged down the hill, winding her way through a stand of pines, before catching up with Ryana at the bottom. Then, sweating heavily now, she followed the woman up a bare, rock-studded hill.

  This slope was the highest one they’d climbed so far, and both women were out of breath by the time they reached the top. They stood, breathing heavily while they waited for Saul and Dain to catch up. Above, Lilia caught the faint glow of the sun through the clouds directly overhead. Noon had arrived and they had covered much ground since dawn.

  They were in the heart of the Highlands now, high upon an exposed ridge. The forests had given way to windswept hillsides interspersed by pine thickets. The mountains that had once been nothing more than purple silhouettes in the distance had marched close. They now loomed overhead, brooding and dark.

  Lilia dug into her pack and pulled out a bladder of water. She took a couple of swigs and was about to restopper it, when something to the west caught her eye.

  In the direction they had come, the Eastern Road rose and dipped over the dense folds of hills. Her gaze tracked it into the distance, to where it became so fine, she could no longer make it out.

  Then she saw them.

  A dark mass crested one of those hills, spears bristling against the monochrome sky. In the deep silence of the highlands, she heard the faint tattoo of approaching hoof beats.

  Lilia froze.

  “Ryana,” she gasped, her voice a strangled bleat. “Look.”

  The enchanter did as bid, before muttering a filthy curse under her breath a heartbeat later. “Those bastards. They ride like the wind.”

  Lilia turned to her. “The Shade Brotherhood?”

  Ryana nodded.

  Saul and Dain joined them then, their faces glowing with sweat. Dain’s axe bounced against his back as he jogged across to the women. “What’s wrong?”

  Lilia gestured west. “Look behind you.”

  Saul too turned to gaze in the direction she’d indicated. Both men went still.

  “Have they seen us?” Dain asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Saul replied. “We’re too far away. They’ll think we’re on horseback, and will be expecting us to be travelling on the road.”

  “Not if they found our horses?”
Dain pointed out.

  Saul frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Lilia shakily put away her water skin and turned to Ryana. Whenever they got into trouble, the enchanter was the first person she turned to. “What should we do?”

  Ryana met her gaze, and managed a grim smile. “We run.”

  The light faded, casting a silvery haze across the craggy hills of the Rithmar Highlands. Dain leaned against the cool stone outside the cave they’d found to take shelter in, and looked west. He hoped The Brotherhood had stopped to make camp for the night as well—for knowing that their hunters had drawn this close unnerved him.

  The four of them had travelled hard all afternoon, only stopping to rest when exhaustion forced them to, but they knew The Brotherhood would be steadily closing the gap between them. On horseback, their pursuers were travelling at a much swifter pace.

  Dain shifted against the rock wall and glanced back into the dark cave, where Ryana and Lilia had stretched out on the damp, pebbly floor. It was an abandoned hunter’s cave, with the remains of an old fire pit in the center. However, after last night’s near miss, they would not be lighting a fire.

  Leaving Dain to guard the entrance to the cave, Saul had gone off to scout. With the darkness quickly gathering around them, Dain expected him back soon. As soon as night fell, Ryana would cast a shadow net over the mouth of the cave to seal them inside till dawn.

  Night fell early, and far too swiftly for this time of year. Dain thought back to Lilia’ words about her shadow’s warning, and his skin prickled with misgiving. Fireflies danced by, luminous specks in the gloaming, and the undergrowth further down the hill started to rustle.

  Dain drew his axe, tightening his fingers around the hilt. He peered into the lengthening shadows, checking for any sign of shadow creatures—or the fourth member of their party.

  Where was Saul?

  Eventually, darkness settled in a heavy shroud over the mountaintop and Dain crept back inside the cave.

  “Ryana,” he whispered, gently shaking her awake.

  She stirred and sat up. A few feet away, he heard Lilia shift. “What is it?” she asked, her voice rough with sleep.

  “It’s dark, and Saul’s not back yet.”

  Ryana brushed past him and made for the entrance. Dain followed her outside. In the darkness, he could only make out the outline of the enchanter’s tall figure. He could not see the expression on her face.

  “Do you think something’s happened to him?” he asked.

  Ryana turned and focused on him. “Maybe—or he’s gone to bargain with The Brotherhood.”

  Dain stiffened. “You think he’d betray us?”

  Ryana shrugged. “His life for ours … yes, I think he would.”

  “He wouldn’t do that.” Lilia’s voice, edged with irritation, sounded behind them. She had emerged from the cave, and stood with her back to the yawning darkness behind her.

  Dain turned to her, his own irritation rising. “You don’t know he wouldn’t.” He swiveled to Ryana. “Should we go looking for him?”

  “No.” He watched her turn away from him, her attention sweeping over the dark mountainside beneath them. In the distance, they caught the faint glow of firelight. Dain tensed; The Brotherhood had camped even closer than they’d thought.

  Perhaps, Saul had been captured.

  “We need to get inside,” Ryana continued, her voice clipped. “I can’t wait much longer before casting the shadow net. I don’t want whatever’s sniffing round out there to know we’re here.”

  Dain understood her concern—yet even so he didn’t like the idea of leaving one of their party out in the dark.

  He couldn’t stand Saul, and had been wishing him gone ever since Idriss—but abandoning him was another matter. Not for the first time, Ryana’s cold-bloodedness made him uneasy. He wondered if, given the right situation, she would dispose of him as easily too.

  “We can’t leave Saul out there.” Lilia rushed forward and placed a hand on Dain’s arm.

  “We have to,” Ryana replied, her tone hardening. “It’s too dangerous for any of us to go looking for him.”

  The enchanter had just finished speaking, when Dain caught the sound of pebbles crunching underfoot. He gripped his axe and stepped forward, eyes straining in the darkness. “Lilia—go back inside.”

  A black shape hurtled up the slope toward him, and Dain’s heart leaped in his chest when he thought it might have been a Nightgenga coming for him. But then, he saw a familiar black cloaked silhouette, and glint of steel, and released his death-grip on the axe hilt.

  Saul had returned.

  “You left it late,” Dain greeted him.

  Saul stopped next to him, panting. “I got distracted. You all have to see this.”

  “See what?” Ryana stepped forward, her voice carrying a note of warning. “In case you hadn’t noticed, night has fallen. None of us should be wandering about.”

  Saul straightened up, still out of breath from his sprint up the mountainside. “Follow me.”

  “Did you hear me?” Ryana snapped. “It’s too—”

  “I heard you,” Saul cut her off, “but you don’t need to worry. The servants of the shadows have got their eye on other prey tonight. They won’t bother with us for a while yet.”

  Silence fell. Dain heard the whisper of footsteps behind him and realized that Lilia had re-emerged from the cave.

  “What do you mean?” Ryana asked eventually.

  Saul’s grin flashed white in the darkness. “Come on—I’ll show you.”

  Four cloaked figures made their way in single file down the mountainside in the direction of the glowing firelight.

  Rearguard, Dain walked a couple of paces behind Lilia. However, with each step, his sense of misgiving increased. He’d been surprised when Ryana had agreed to follow Saul, especially after she’d made it clear to Dain and Lilia that she didn’t trust him. Yet here the four of them were, creeping toward the group of men who were actively hunting them, while the darkness came to life with creatures who would delight in ripping them to pieces.

  Dain stubbed his toe on a rock and swallowed a curse.

  This was idiotic.

  Halfway down the western slope of the mountainside, they reached an outcrop that jutted out over the narrow wooded valley below. This approach had been too steep for them to climb earlier, so they had reached the cave from the north instead. Yet now their high perch gave them a clear view of the encampment below.

  Crouched in a line on the edge of the outcrop, they silently observed their hunters.

  The Brotherhood had pitched their circle of tents around half a furlong back from the Eastern Road. In the center of the tents burned a great fire, red-gold tongues of flame licking high into the sky. Around the perimeter, they had staked burning torches.

  Dain could make out figures, hooded and cloaked, standing guard just inside the burning perimeter; The Brotherhood clearly knew of the danger that stalked the night and were taking precautions.

  Looking down at the tight circle of hide tents and the roaring fire pit, uneasiness stole over Dain. Like them the night before, The Brotherhood had unwittingly lit a beacon that announced their presence in the wilderness.

  “It’s so bright,” Lilia murmured. She crouched to his right, her face creased in concentration. “Their camp lights up the sky like a village.”

  Dain agreed with her—but perhaps that light would be enough to keep the darkness at bay. Not like their pitiful perimeter the night before.

  He glanced at where Saul crouched to his left.

  “So?” he asked, careful to keep his voice barely above a whisper. “Why do we need to see this?”

  “Look properly,” Saul whispered back. “Not at the encampment—at the valley around it.”

  Dain frowned, and wished he could see Saul’s face so he could read his expression, his eyes. He didn’t trust him.

  Still, he did as bid and turned his attention back to the wooded valley
below. The light from the fire and the torches bled quite a distance, illuminating the outlines of thick pines and the milky tendrils of mist that drifted between them.

  Then Dain saw something that made his breathing still.

  To his right he heard a muffled gasp and realized that Lilia had seen it too.

  “The valley,” she breathed in horror. “It’s alive.”

  Creeping, crawling, stalking, and loping—the creatures moved like wraiths through the tall trees. Some were as pale as corpse-flesh, while others glowed like starlight. Some looked as if dead men had risen from the grave, while others appeared to be made of light, mist and shadow. Nightgengas, Hiriel, Dusk Imps—and many forms that Dain could not put a name to—they filled the dark valley and moved toward the tents, bringing a cloak of mist with them.

  Dain swallowed. Nearby, he heard Ryana mutter an oath, while Lilia made a choked sound. Wordlessly, he reached out and took her hand, squeezing gently in wordless reassurance. Now, more than ever, it was important they didn’t make a sound.

  Saul shouldn’t have brought them there, but now that he had Dain could not tear his gaze away.

  Scarcely breathing, he watched the servants of the shadows tighten the net. It was a while before the men at the center of the encampment even noticed something was amiss.

  They picked off the sentries first—the few hapless individuals who had been posted outside the perimeter of burning torches. The men fell without a sound, swallowed by a tide of white limbs and hungry jaws.

  Dain watched in wordless horror, as the shadow creatures at last showed themselves—and broke against the ring of torches in a great, howling wave. The men drew their weapons and rushed forward to meet them, their faces ashen.

  The servants of the shadows tore into them.

  The tents fell, crumpled under the onslaught.

  Beside Dain, Saul muttered something under his breath. However, Dain paid him no mind—he couldn’t take his eyes off the attack unfolding below.

  The Brotherhood fought for their lives. They were assassins, trained in the art of killing, but they could not withstand the numbers that poured into their encampment from all sides. Some of them fought in a frenzy, their blades flashing bright in the light of the fire behind them. It did them no good.