by Jayne Castel
Ryana slept deeply, still propped up against the boulder where she had sat down. Her head had lolled slightly to one side, although Lilia had fashioned a cushion out of her own cloak for the enchanter, rolling it up and sliding it under her neck.
Lilia, Saul and Dain didn’t converse.
Ever since their kiss, Lilia hadn’t been able to even look at Dain. She felt his gaze settle upon her now, from his perch a few yards away, but she pretended not to notice.
Their kiss had done more than unnerve her—it risked unravelling the fabric of her world. It was bad enough she was out here in the wilderness, clawing for survival. The last thing she needed was to lose her inner compass. She’d lost herself in that kiss—and couldn’t risk doing so again. Out here, she was without any of the possessions she’d once used to anchor herself; the treasures she kept on her bedside table were half a world away now.
She was wary of men. They made life messy, unpredictable … and risky.
Likewise, she avoided looking in Saul’s direction. However, when she did glance over to see how far away their lunch was, she noted his expression was shuttered, completely unreadable.
Did he even care she’d kissed Dain?
Their brief romantic entanglement months earlier seemed like another life to Lilia. Saul had appeared reluctant to leave her, although she’d realized later that he’d only been putting on an act; a fine one so that she would look after his charm stone and remain loyal to him.
When he reappeared in Lilia’s life, Saul’s lack of interest in her had initially stung. There was still that pull of attraction between them, for he was charismatic and attractive—and knew it.
He wasn’t hurt, she was sure of it—yet she was embarrassed Saul had caught her and Dain kissing.
She knew it was a foolish fear to have, but she now felt as if Saul had a weapon to wield against her.
The rabbits were delicious: fat and juicy. After days of no fresh food, Lilia ate ravenously. They left some meat for Ryana, wrapped up in an oiled cloth, but let her sleep a little longer.
Lilia glanced up at the sky—even through the dense cloud she could see the glow of the sun sinking toward the west. The day was moving on, and so should they. She lowered her face, shifting her attention to where Ryana slept. She looked so peaceful, sleeping deeply there. Left to her own devices, she would likely sleep for many more hours.
“Someone’s going to have to wake her,” Dain said. Seated next to Lilia, he picked the last shreds of meat off the rabbit leg he’d been eating and tossed the bone into the fire. “We need to go.”
Lilia rose to her feet. “I’ll do it.” She crossed to the enchanter and crouched before her, reaching out to grasp her shoulder. “Ryana …”
The woman groaned and raised her head, her eyes flickering open.
“Is that roast rabbit I smell?”
Lilia smiled. “Don’t worry, we left some for you.”
With a groan, Ryana got to her feet and stretched. She then glanced up at the sky, frowning. “You’ve let me sleep too long.”
“You were exhausted,” Dain pointed out. “We had to let you recover your strength.”
“Here,” Lilia passed Ryana the package of meat they’d kept back for her. “You can eat while we walk.”
Ryana nodded her thanks, unwrapped the meat and started to eat while the others readied themselves to move on.
Lilia retrieved her cloak and slung it over her shoulders while Saul kicked dirt over the fire. Then, all four of them shouldered their packs and returned to the Eastern Road.
It was a still afternoon, with not the slightest breath of wind to cool their faces as they walked. The road snaked down a narrow valley, climbed the feet of a mountain, and dipped into a rocky gorge. There, they found a trickling brook, where they refilled their waterskins before moving on.
Avoiding Dain, Lilia increased her pace so that she strode alongside Ryana. She was a lot fitter than when she’d first left Orin—but even so it was an effort to keep up with the taller woman’s long stride.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, the words coming in short puffs.
Ryana glanced across at her. “Better, although I could still sleep for days.”
“So could I.”
Ryana smiled. “You’re doing well, Lilia.” Her smile twisted. “This journey hasn’t gone as I’d planned—sorry about that.”
Lilia huffed. “None of this is your fault.”
“I feel like it is,” Ryana replied, shifting her gaze back to the road ahead. Her expression was tense, introspective. “I’ve spent too many years hiding away, letting my skills grow rusty. This whole trip I’ve felt as if I’ve had one arm tied behind my back.”
They pressed east for the remainder of the afternoon, although, as the shadows started to lengthen and the air began to chill, Saul called out from behind, “we should start looking for a hiding place for the night.”
The women drew up, waiting as Dain and then Saul reached them.
Lilia looked around her, taking in the rocky banks and the stands of pines that carpeted the lower slopes of the mountainsides. “Where?”
“We need to find a cave or a hole to hide in,” Saul replied.
Ryana let out a long sigh. “Easier said than done.” She glanced about, her gaze narrowing. “Come on then—we won’t find our hiding place on the road.”
Light slowly drained from the world, the shade cast by the great mountains making darkness arrive early that evening. They searched in pairs, Lilia and Ryana on the southern slopes beyond the road, and Saul and Dain to the north.
Lilia climbed the rocky mountainside, just a couple of yards behind Ryana, her gaze scanning her surroundings for any sign of a hiding place. Sharp rocks thrust up from the damp, mossy earth but, unlike that night they’d hidden from the Hiriel, there were none big enough to hide under. Climbing higher still, they broke from the tree line and clambered up a scree-covered slope. Grey schist crags and clumps of dry grass reared overhead. The women stopped, breathing hard from their climb, and looked about.
Lilia had hoped there might have been another hunter’s cave up here, or an overhang where they could shelter for the night—but the mountainside was bare and desolate, without anywhere for them to hide.
Ryana swore under her breath, her gaze meeting Lilia’s. “Let’s hope the boys have had better luck.”
They rejoined Saul and Dain upon the Eastern Road as the last rays of sun bathed the valley.
One look at the men’s faces and Lilia knew they too hadn’t found a hiding place for the night.
“It’s barren up there,” Dain announced, his gaze flicking from Ryana to Lilia. “I take it you fared no better?”
Lilia shook her head. She was trying to remain calm, but memories of what had happened after dark during the last two nights haunted her. She glanced around and started to sweat at the sight of the encroaching shadows. She didn’t want to panic, or for the others to think she was a coward—even so she needed reassurance.
She turned to Ryana. “What are we going to do?”
The enchanter pulled a face, making it clear she didn’t appreciate the question. “Climb a tree.”
Saul snorted. “And you think shadow creatures can’t climb?”
Ryana gave him a sour look. “I wisely assume nothing,” she replied, “but if you’ve got a better idea come nightfall—do let us know. For now, we just need to move on.”
They continued along the Eastern Road, walking in a tight knot now—with Lilia in the center. Above them, the sky darkened further. The faint odor of iron settled over the valley and Lilia’s skin prickled. She knew what that smell meant. However, this time she did not voice her worries.
Around her, Dain had drawn his axe, Saul his knives, and Ryana held her staff at the ready in her left hand, her right gently moving before her, as if preparing to Gather the Dark.
Lilia swallowed painfully and drew the knife from its scabbard at her waist. She grasped the hilt tightly, steali
ng nervous glances around her as she walked.
Darkness had nearly swallowed the world when Ryana halted suddenly. The movement was so sharp that Lilia ran into her back. However, Ryana hardly seemed to notice, for she was staring up ahead, at where a fine mist crept over the highway.
“We need to get off the road,” Ryana murmured, her gaze remaining fixed upon the mist.
“Why?” Saul stepped up and peered over her shoulder. “I can’t see anything.”
“You will soon enough,” she replied.
“How do you know that?” Dain asked, frowning.
Ryana glanced quickly back at him. “I’ve had my shadows out scouting for the past hour. They’ve just returned.”
“And?” Saul pressed.
Ryana’s mouth thinned. “Creatures approach on the road behind and before us.”
A heartbeat of silence followed before Saul spoke once more. “How many?”
“At least two-dozen,” she replied, turning her attention back to where the mist snaked toward them. “They’re attempting to hem us in.”
Lilia’s legs trembled underneath her at this news. She glanced between the faces of her companions, in the hope that one of them would come up with a solution to their predicament; yet all of them looked as worried as she felt.
Without another word, the four of them turned left and hurried off the road. They entered a stand of tall spruce; the heady perfume of the conifers momentarily obliterating the harsh tang of metal that had settled over the darkening land.
For a short while, the only sound was the rasp of their breathing, for they walked across a soft mattress of pine needles.
But then the land around them seemed to awake. The rustling, snapping of twigs underfoot. Low growls and whines in the distance, growing closer with each passing moment.
They were in the midst of the spruce thicket, over two furlongs from the road, when a deranged cackle echoed up from the valley behind them. Lilia stumbled at the sound, and Dain caught her by the elbow, hauling her upright. “Keep moving.”
“We can’t run forever,” Lilia gasped, her voice quavering with panic. “They’ll catch us.”
Dain didn’t respond. He had a firm grasp of her arm now as they broke into a sprint. The weight of the pack on Lilia’s back dragged her down, making each stride an effort. They followed Ryana through the trees and up the steepening ground, while Saul followed on their heels.
They broke from the trees and ran out into a glen with a stream trickling through it. A dark wall of conifers rose around them; their spiky tops black against an indigo sky. Halfway across the glen, just after she had splashed through the stream, Ryana halted.
She whipped round, eyes wide, as the others caught up.
“What is it?” Saul panted. “Why have you stopped?”
“They’re all around us now,” Ryana gasped. “We’re trapped.”
Saul let out a string of oaths, his gaze sweeping around the clearing. “So this is where we make our stand?”
“Aye.” Ryana stepped away from them, sweeping her right hand before her in an arc. She glanced then at Lilia. “I’m sorry—I’d never have suggested we make this journey if I’d known.”
Lilia stared at her. She didn’t want Ryana’s apology, she just wanted to survive this. The fatalistic look on the enchanter’s face frightened her more than what lay before them.
Dain shrugged, loosening the muscles in his neck, shoulders and upper arms as he swung his axe before him. His face looked hewn from stone, his dark-blue eyes almost black in the gloaming. “If this is to be our stand, let’s make it count,” he said, his gaze flicking to Ryana and Saul. “Turn your backs toward Lilia. We need to protect her as long as we can.”
Ryana and Saul nodded, their faces grimmer than Lilia had yet seen.
This was it. Lilia’s ill-fated adventure was about to come to a bloody end.
On the northern edge of the glen, where the trees began once more, the sound of cracking branches interrupted them. The four companions swiveled round, Ryana, Saul and Dain taking up positions around Lilia so that they surrounded her.
Gripping her knife hilt so hard her fingers hurt, Lilia peered over Saul’s shoulder at where the branches of the great spruce on the northern edge of the clearing began to sway.
Hysteria bubbled up within her—every instinct told her to run, flee into the trees. Yet she did not. Her companions encircled her, and they would not run, so she would stand her ground too.
She watched Saul cast Dain a sidelong glance, his expression suddenly wolfish. “Ready to shed some blood before we go down?”
Dain cast him a bleak smile back. “Don’t worry—I’ll make those bastards suffer first.”
“Idiots,” Ryana growled. “Men talk such rubbish.”
A heartbeat later, the dark curtain of branches on the northern edge of the clearing gave way, and figures emerged into the glen.
25
The Enchanters of the Light
Lilia stared at the group that emerged from the trees.
They were not shadow creatures—but men and women. They wore smoke-grey thick quilted robes that reached just above the knee, cinched in at the waist with wide leather belts. The robes had bell-sleeves and underneath they wore dark, high-necked tunics. Men and women alike wore fitted leather leggings and high hunting-style boots.
Some gripped quarter-staffs in their left hands, while others held burning torches aloft.
Lilia glanced at where Ryana stood, frozen, next to her. She studied the way Ryana held the staff she’d brought with her from Orin—and realization dawned.
These were members of the Order of Light and Darkness.
A man stepped forward from the group. He was good-looking, strikingly so. Tall, athletic, with chiseled features, grey eyes and long white-blond hair, he looked to be in his early thirties at most.
His gaze swept over the group before him, gathered in a tight knot in the center of the clearing, before his attention fixed upon Ryana. She stared back, a muscle ticking in her jaw.
A heartbeat later, snapping in the undergrowth to the south of the glen made the man jerk his gaze from Ryana. He turned to the group of around twenty behind him.
“Form a perimeter,” he barked. “We camp here tonight.”
Without hesitation, the men and women bearing torches, fanned out—a group of six who formed a wide circle around them.
Lilia swung round, facing south at where a tide of writhing figures spewed forth from the tree line.
It was too late—the shadow creatures had found them.
Heart pounding, she edged closer to Dain. Howls filled the glen as the same horrors they had seen decimate The Brotherhood’s encampment closed in on them.
Voices rose above the shrieks, grunts and howls—words shouted in the tongue that Lilia had heard Ryana use. She watched the six torch-bearers cast their right hands in an arc before them. Once again, Lilia recognized the gesture; it was the same one Ryana used to gather the Dark.
Golden light exploded in the heart of the glen; so bright that Lilia cried out and turned away, shielding her eyes from the glare. When she straightened up, removing her hand from her smarting eyes, a shimmering veil of fire surrounded them. It was semi-transparent; she could see the outlines of enraged shadow creatures beyond. Some threw themselves against it, only to fall back howling; while others clawed and spat at the glowing barrier, before withdrawing, hissing in fury.
Stunned, Lilia shared an incredulous look with Dain, before she turned back to the man who appeared to command this group. She found him looking at Ryana again. The pair of them were watching each other warily now, as if waiting for the other to speak first.
Saul stood on the edge of the group, slightly apart from his three companions. Unaware Lilia was observing him, his gaze narrowed and his mouth pursed as if he’d just tasted something bitter. These enchanters had just saved his life, but he didn’t appear grateful.
Meanwhile, Ryana and the blond man were still s
taring each other down.
It was the newcomer who eventually relented. Grey eyes crinkling at the corners, he inclined his head slightly. “Hello, Ryana.”
Ryana drew in a shaky breath, her face pale. “Asher,” she murmured. “This is … unexpected.”
The man, Asher, snorted. “We searched for you for years—who would have thought I’d stumble across you here?”
Around him, grey-robed enchanters moved about the wide circular space that was to be their home for the night. Some were erecting low tents, while others built a fire on the bank above the trickling brook. They’d fallen into what must have been a nightly ritual—each appeared to have a role they carried out without question.
However, like her companions, Lilia didn’t move. She didn’t know what to say, or what to do. She didn’t even know if she was safe.
Ryana’s behavior unnerved her. She had promised to bring Lilia to the Order of Light and Darkness. But now that they’d met up with them on the road, she didn’t look that happy about it.
Ryana didn’t speak. She just stood there.
Asher watched her for a few moments more, before speaking again. “There’s no point in looking like a hunted deer. You know now the wards are up—nothing gets in or out of this clearing till dawn.”
Saul stepped up beside Ryana then. “Friend of yours?”
She cast him a quelling look, her mouth thinning before answering. “This is Asher, Enchanter of the Light. Years ago, we apprenticed together.”
“And yes, we were friends—once,” Asher spoke up, answering Saul’s question. His gaze hardened as it swung back to Ryana. “Before she betrayed us all.”
A fire burned bright in the center of the clearing, long tongues of flame licking into the sky. The scent of wood smoke tickled Dain’s nose. His belly was full after the enchanters had shared their supper with them—yet he found it difficult to relax.
Not with those malevolent shadows creeping around beyond the light sphere.
The enchanters took turns at the vigil of holding the torches aloft, and keeping the barrier in place, with the second watch taking up their posts shortly after supper.
