by T. A. White
“Am I walking too fast?”
She shook her head.
“Then keep up. I want this done before the army awakens.”
Shea’s hands shook as he gave her his back and continued walking.
“I’d planned to kill you, you know?” He gave her a casual look over his shoulder. Shea almost tripped before righting herself. “I thought you’d done something to him, somehow. Something to make him forget his ambition.”
“What changed your mind?” Shea’s voice was thin.
He tilted his head thoughtfully. Before he could speak, the clip-clop of several horse’s hooves reached them.
Braden stiffened and doused the light from his torch. It was all the distraction Shea needed. She darted into the shadows and away from Braden. Rushing headlong into the darkness, praying she didn’t trip.
There was a muffled shout behind her, but no sound of pursuit.
She slowed to a quick walk, fearing if she continued running she’d kill herself faster than any enemy ever could.
Alone, darkness pressing in on her, she looked around in the pale light. She hadn’t noticed it before, but the stones glowed ever so slightly when there was no other light around. As her eyes adjusted, the green blue glow became more pronounced. She lifted her hand to touch a stone wall next to her.
“Bioluminescence.”
In nature, there was evidence of some animals—mostly bugs and microscopic organisms—that glowed in the dark. She’d heard tales of entire lakes that took on an otherworldly glow on the darkest of nights, but only during certain periods of the year. She had never been lucky enough to see such an event herself.
Her fingers came away with a slight glow. If she had to guess, she’d say there was some type of algae or plant growing on the stone of the city. The light from the torches must have made it impossible to see. No light, and suddenly she could see each building, softly glowing before her.
It was a breathtaking, utterly unique experience.
She wished Fallon was here to see it, but perhaps he was noticing something similar right now wherever he was.
The clip-clop of horse’s hooves reached her. The rider had been partially responsible for helping her escape Braden. She’d have to give them her thanks later.
Right now, she had to decide if she wanted to call this person’s attention to her. She was still in the same situation as before. Alone, lightly armed, and with the knowledge that no one was supposed to have left the camp.
The glow of the city beside her dimmed as the rider drew near, a torch in hand. Shea stepped back into the shadows, hoping to get a glimpse of the person. Perhaps that would help her make a decision.
She didn’t have long to wait as a trio of riders came into view. The first two men tugged at her memory, but she still couldn’t place them. The last one, however, had her stepping out of her darkened corner.
“Charles.”
He, at least, she recognized. He was probably out here looking for Clark. While still against orders, it was understandable he wouldn’t want to abandon his friend. The men with him were regular attendees of the beast class.
The men looked around, their eyes searching in the dim light. Shea walked closer to them, her movement calling their attention.
Charles eyes widened in surprise. “Telroi, what are you doing out of camp?”
Shea gave him a sheepish grin. “Would you believe I got lost?”
The three men gave each other a long look.
“It would be very difficult to believe that,” Charles said. His two friends steered their horses in a wide circle to either side of Shea, until the three stood one in front and two on either side.
Shea watched them carefully. Perhaps Braden had her paranoid, but the actions struck her as vaguely threatening.
“What are you and your friends doing out here?” Shea asked, looking around. “I thought Caden ordered no one to leave camp.”
She knew he had, because she was the one to give the order.
Charles tilted his head, the look in his eyes flat even as he regarded her with little expression.
Now that she thought about it, Charles had always been Clark’s friend. Not hers.
“Yes, he did, didn’t he?” Charles said, unsheathing his sword from where it was strapped to his saddle. Shea took a careful step backward, her eyes checking on the two other men. “I suppose lying at this late stage would just be a waste of energy. You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
“Not now that you’ve drawn that sword,” Shea told him.
A grin flashed across his face and then was gone, leaving his expression as dead and lifeless as before.
She didn’t bother asking him what he was doing. That much was obvious. He and these men planned to kill her. Braden was seeming more like the better bet.
“You’re the one responsible for the assassination attempt during the tournament,” Shea said.
“Took you long enough. You really are dumb, even for a throwaway.”
Right now, she didn’t disagree with him. She’d called his attention to her, knowing no one was supposed to be out of the camp, because she thought he was a friend. More evidence that her people skills were no better, even after all these months.
“You never even suspected I was anything other than a friend,” he said. He seemed very like a stranger in that moment. Not the kind person willing to help scouts learn a beast’s habits. “I must admit to some anxiety after the first attempt on your life failed, but then you just kept coming back and even recommended me for more responsibility.”
Shea kept a cautious eye on the other two. They watched her with small smirks.
“I do have to thank you for this opportunity though,” Charles said, drawing her attention. “I had hoped to kill you. The Warlord will be just a bonus.”
Shea didn’t bother to keep the contempt off her face. “As if you could.”
“You were right; he isn’t dead,” Charles said in a soft voice. Shea felt her heart lurch. “One of my men spotted him earlier. I’ll be sure to send him to you shortly.”
Charles struck out with his blade, a clean, crisp movement that was startling in its speed. Shea barely jumped away, a thin slice of pain opening on her shoulder. The wound wasn’t deep. Given the lack of concern as Charles watched Shea retreat until her back was against the wall, he had little worry that she would escape this encounter alive. He was toying with her.
Desperation and panic fought for space in her head. She struggled to remember what Trenton had taught her, what he had drilled into her time and again during training.
Her opponent had both an extended reach with his sword, and a horse that could trample her to death. She was also outnumbered.
One hand slipped behind her to withdraw the short dagger she kept on her at all times. She’d prefer a sword, but she hadn’t thought to bring hers when she slipped out of camp. When Trenton found out, he would skin her.
She held it close to her side.
“She’s armed,” the man on her right said. “End this, so we can move on.”
There was a small thump as an arrow embedded itself into the throat of the man who had just spoken.
Shea didn’t wait, taking advantage of their surprise and darting in the direction of the fallen man. His horse stamped and whirled. Shea dodged it as Charles and the other man kicked their horses after her.
She ducked past the horse, noting Braden standing bow in hand, notching another arrow.
She’d never make it to him before one of the other two ran her down. Her feet turned toward a gap between two buildings. She ran along the small space even as the sound of hooves pounding against cobblestone followed her. She burst onto the next street.
“Shea, follow me,” Braden said from several yards down the street. He’d guessed her route and followed on a different path. She hesitated, her suspicions of before no less valid. “Don’t be stupid. I just saved your ass.”
He had.
They’d stand a better cha
nce if they were together.
Her decision made, she ran towards him and followed when he turned and made his way through the city. It wasn’t long until the sound of pursuit followed, chasing them through the city—gradually herding them in a certain direction.
“How are they doing this?” Shea asked, leaning against the side of a building. She was out of breath and beginning to think there might not be a way out of this.
Braden shook his head. “They must have more men out here.”
“How many people missed head count?” Shea asked.
“Ten.”
She dropped her head back and looked up at the inky darkness. Only small patches of a starry night sky could be seen. Ten. He might as well have said a hundred.
“We’re making a lot of noise. Eventually Caden and the rest of the men will hear and come investigating,” Braden said.
Shea preferred not to rely on ifs and shoulds. There was no guarantee they’d hear all this racket, and even if they did, chances were Shea and Braden would be dead long before then.
“You shouldn’t have run off and called attention to yourself.” Disapproval colored Braden’s tone.
Shea shot him dark look. “I’m sorry. When someone threatens to kill me, I tend to try to remove myself from the situation.”
“I never intended to kill you.”
Shea scoffed, letting the sound speak for her.
“I didn’t. I just said at one time I had planned to kill you. You know, before. It’s been a while since I’ve actively plotted your death.”
Shea opened her mouth with a sharp retort but was prevented from speaking as a horse and rider clattered around the corner, torch held aloft. Seeing them, he called over his should, “Here, I’ve found them.”
“Time to go.” Shea bounded away from the building, Braden on her heels. Another rider cut them off at the end of the street as the first closed in behind. They started for an alley but pulled up short when another horse and rider trotted out of the shadows.
They were surrounded.
Braden put his back to Shea’s, notching an arrow and holding his bow at the ready. He’d given her his sword so at least she wasn’t completely unarmed.
Charles turned the corner, letting his horse walk towards them at a leisurely pace. “General, what a surprise. I had not thought to see you out here.”
“Who is this?” Braden asked Shea, not taking his eyes off the armed men approaching them.
“Charles. You met him. He was in charge of the beast board.”
Charles smile was ugly. “I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised he doesn’t recognize me. It would be too much to expect a general to know those that serve under him.”
“I know the name of every man and woman in my command. You’re not one of them,” Braden said, still not looking at Charles. His attention was wholly focused on the two riders behind them.
“Of course not. You wouldn’t want a cripple getting in the way.” Charles hands tightened on the reins.
“Is that what this is about?” Shea asked. “Misplaced anger over your lot in life?”
Charles snorted. “Maybe a little, but it’s not the only reason.”
Scorn showed on Shea’s face.
Charles smiled. “You don’t believe me.”
She shrugged.
“At first, I only intended to get you out of the way. As I’m sure the general here can tell you, you’re a distraction to the Warlord. His men have noticed, and they don’t like it. This idea of conquest. It is ridiculous. We take, we pillage, and then we return home. That’s how it’s always been.”
“Fallon always intended to claim the Lowlands,” Shea said. “I’m not the one who convinced him to stay.”
“But you are the one who made it possible. Your beast board. Your ideas. Even this place. Do you think he’ll let this end once he reaches your homeland?” Charles shook his head. “No, he’ll take, and take, and take until there is nothing left.”
A shadow flickered in the light behind Charles.
“Your lands are rotting,” Shea said. “There’s nothing left there except madness and death.”
“You’re lying.”
“She’s not,” Braden said. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Our healers are trying to figure out what’s wrong, but they have been unsuccessful. Many have succumbed to the madness.”
The man next to Charles shifted. “The men from Rain did say something wasn’t right.”
“Quiet. Nothing they say matters. She’s still an outsider. A throwaway. We do our people a service getting rid of her,” Charles said.
He dug his heels into the horse’s sides and spurred it towards Shea. She held the sword in a guard position, watching closely.
“Stop,” a voice yelled from the building.
Charles pulled his horse up sharply as Clark climbed out of a window and dropped to the ground.
“Clark, stay back,” Shea called.
“It’s alright, Shea.” Clark held out a hand as he made his way over to stand between the two of them. Charles watched him come, a guarded expression on his face.
“What are you doing?” Clark asked him.
“I’m standing up for people like us.”
“By killing Shea? She’s never done anything to you. If anything, she’s helped us gain status.”
Charles almost looked like he might listen. He parted his lips to speak when one of the other men said, “Enough chitchat. Kill them.”
“I’m afraid he’s right. We’ve come too far to turn back now.” Charles unsheathed the sword at his side.
Clark took a step back, placing himself between Shea and Charles.
“Clark, move.”
Clark shook his head. “I refuse.”
“I’m doing this for us. For what we went through.”
Clark shook his head. “I want no part in this. If you do this, you’ll have to go through me first.”
“Very well, then.”
There was a sharp cry as the man to Shea’s right slumped off his horse and fell to the ground. Fallon stood next to him, bloody sword in his hand.
A dark figure leapt from the building next to them, landing on Charles and taking him to the ground. Braden took advantage of the distraction and let his arrow fly. It found its target in the shoulder of the rider behind them.
Charles and his assailant rolled, their limbs a furious blur as they fought.
More of Charles’s men poured out of the street in front of Shea. Even with Fallon, Clark, and the person Shea assumed was Fiona, they were outmatched.
There was a woman’s cry of pain. Charles rose to his feet, the sword in his hand bloody. He aimed a kick at his attacker.
“Fiona,” Clark cried, running for the other woman.
“You can’t win,” Charles shouted at Clark, who ignored him.
Shea’s eyes rose to the buildings beside them, shadows lurking on top of them. Bright eyes flashed from above.
“No, I think it’s you who can’t win,” Shea said in a soft voice, her focus still on what waited above.
A frigid wind picked up around them, rustling Shea’s hair and plucking at her clothes with harsh hands. She could almost hear voices in the air. A tingle skated along her skin, a sensation very similar to that of the mist.
Betrayal. Weapons. A path.
All the ingredients were there.
“What would you know?” Charles said, ignoring Shea. His voice was ugly, no hint of the shy, studious man of before in it. “They treat me worse than the throwaways simply because of a birth defect. He’s the worst of them.”
Charles pointed at Fallon, his face a mask of disgust. “Patting me on the head, saying good job with that stupid beast board. Elevating your little friends who lied to him, lied to us all, to protect you. When meanwhile, I exist on the scraps of the kindness of his elite.”
“You need to stop this,” Shea said, edging towards Clark and where he knelt by Fiona. “You won’t like the consequences of what comes nex
t.”
He scoffed. “Big words from a throwaway who is about to die. There are changes coming. We’ve already got the backing, people willing to support us when you and he are gone.”
“Whose backing?” Fallon asked. “Who has been whispering in your ear?”
Charles regarded Fallon with narrowed eyes. Shea couldn’t believe she had never seen the snake at his heart. It was obvious now, here at the end. How had she not seen it before?
“Shea, Fiona needs immediate help if she is going to survive,” Clark said in a soft voice as she neared.
She knelt at his side and pressed her hand to Fiona’s wound. The other woman’s skin was pale, but her eyes fierce. One hand snapped up to grasp Shea’s in a tight grip.
“Do your worst, pathfinder. Don’t let him get away with this,” Fiona panted around a bloodthirsty grin.
Shea returned that grin with a fierce one of her own. “I will. You stay alive.”
Fiona made a choked sound and nodded, pain making her eyes go vague for a moment.
“What are you doing?” Charles asked as she stood and walked to the middle of the street.
She ignored him as she knelt and brushed her bloody hand against the stone. “I’ve made my choice and chosen my path.”
“Get up before I order the rest of you killed,” Charles called. Shea could hear the scrape of his limp as he shuffled closer.
Shea stood, leaving a bloody handprint as evidence of her pact. She turned, her eyes meeting Fallon’s. She gave him a soft smile, putting all the love she had for him into it. Her eyes moved to Charles and her smile faded, leaving nothing but grim determination behind.
Charles and his men moved toward her, leaving only the other two horsemen to guard Fallon and Braden. Not that it mattered. Soon, nothing they did would matter.
She met Charles’ gaze, repeating what she had said earlier. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Charles made a disgusted sound. “What are you talking about?
“You shouldn’t have hurt Fiona. You shouldn’t have betrayed your Warlord. They don’t like people who break faith. Now you will pay.”
“Who is she talking about,” one of his men asked.
“Perhaps she’s gone loopy,” said one of the others.
