Silver and Shadow (The Canath Chronicles Book 2)

by S. M. Gaither

  “She did.”

  “Elric said the armoros are known for their particular way of reading minds.” His voice is seething, so much violence in it that my wolf side wakes up and tries to make us take a cautious step backward. “They break them, essentially, so that they can take what they want. It’s said to be one of the most painful things a person can experience. Worse than even the most powerful illusion of pain even someone like my father could conjure up.”

  “I…I’m sorry.”

  I don’t know what else to say.

  “Did you even try to stop her?” he asks. “Did you not think I would want to stop her if I knew who she was? And where she was going—did you know that too?”

  “I didn’t know where she was going, but of course I tried to stop her, dummy. At one point I freaking bit her, okay?”

  That violent air around him doesn’t fade. It’s making my wolf pace nervously. I’m incredibly glad I let Elric take the Earth key from me, because there’s no way it wouldn’t be reacting to the chaos inside me right now.

  I try to grab Soren’s arm, attempting to get him to sit and calm down.

  But he jerks free. “What else did she tell you?”

  I freeze.

  Because that’s when I realize that I haven’t even told him the worst part.

  And my expression and my silence must give this away, because it seems to push him the rest of the way over the edge; his hands fly toward my face. They press against my cheeks, cold and firm, and I feel a tingling of magic at the base of my skull.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Tell me what she said.”

  “Or what?” I level my gaze—now blurry with angry tears—into his.

  At the sight of those tears he seems to get ahold of himself, and he jerks his hands away from me.

  “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  The apology is heartfelt enough.

  But I’m already mad now—at him and everything else—and more than anything, I’m pissed about being the only person carrying Anika’s secrets around this campsite. So I take a step back, just in case he loses it again, and then I practically shout that most damning secret at him.

  “Fine,” I say, voice shaking. “I’ll tell you the truth: Your mother isn’t dead. She’s the Dusk Queen, and your sister is planning on killing her. We were supposed to help kill her, and Anika didn’t plan on telling us who our target truly was until it was too late for us to change our minds.”

  The silence is thick.

  The lump forming in my throat is thicker.

  I’m honestly not sure how I manage to breathe around it.

  “You’re lying,” he finally replies.

  “I wish I was. I really, really do.”

  There don’t seem to be any words left between us, so I do the only other thing I can think of; I wrap my arms around him and I lean against him, burying my face in his chest and holding him close.

  He doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t embrace me back, either. He doesn’t move at all—he scarcely even breathes. Even after I step back a moment later, the only motion he makes is to lift that locket in his hand and stare blankly at it.

  I have the sudden urge to destroy something on his behalf.

  My eyes look to my sword, waiting faithfully by my makeshift bed.

  By the time I’ve retrieved it and turned around, Soren has disappeared.

  I should have known better than to take my eyes off him.

  I bite back a curse and sprint to the main campsite, across the creek from where I’d fallen asleep. The others are halfway awake already, and with a yawn Carys asks: “Is everything okay? I dreamed I heard you arguing with someone, I think.”

  I explain, as quickly as I can, how not okay everything is.

  And then the four of us set off on a desperate search of our surroundings, trying to find Soren. It’s a fruitless endeavor, and an hour later we reconvene at the camp wearing equally defeated expressions.

  I feel angry tears threatening again. I’m not even sure who or what I’m most angry at anymore, but I’m too tired to figure it out. I sink down to the ground and lean against a rotting log. Liam sits down on the other side of me. I expect some variation of I told you so or I knew he would run off on you and do something stupid to come out of his mouth. But all he does is use the sleeve of his jacket to wipe away the few stray tears that escape my eyes.

  Carys lays her head on my shoulder and wraps her arm around mine, squeezing tight.

  “We never had much hope of finding an illusionist who doesn’t want to be found,” Elric says softly.

  I nod. I know he’s right.

  We all know he’s right, but we still take turns searching some more, until tiredness overtakes us and we remember that we were supposed to be resting and preparing to move camp. We take turns sleeping then, the plan being for one of us to keep guard and a hopeful watch for Soren’s return. I try volunteering for every shift of guard duty. I don’t want to sleep until I see him again—I don’t think I’ll actually be able to sleep until I see him again.

  But then, I am a talented sleeper.

  And I’ve barely slept these past few nights, tossing and turning with those awful secrets keeping me company in my bed.

  So eventually I give in to the other’s insistence, and I doze off thinking: at least things can’t get any worse.

  I should know better, at this point in my life, than to think things can’t get any worse.

  It can always get worse.

  Hell, probably the best way to ensure that it gets worse is to actually be dumb enough to think well gee, at least it can’t get any worse.

  And the second I open my eyes, I’m immediately hit with feeling that everything has finished going completely to shit.

  “Are you awake?” Carys asks, breathless as she leans over me and shakes my shoulder.

  “I am now,” I mutter.

  She pulls me to my feet without a word and then just as soundlessly drags me to the center of the camp, where Liam is attempting to get Elric to calm down.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  Elric’s eyes are wide and bloodshot, like he hasn’t slept in weeks. His hands are in front of him, palms upward toward the sky and shaking.

  “I don’t know how he managed it. I was wide awake, and then…”

  Through the fog of sleep and misery in my brain, awful little realizations begin to click together.

  Soren still isn’t here.

  Something else is missing, too.

  I can feel it…

  Or I can’t feel it, rather.

  My eyes fall to Elric’s chest, searching for that chain that usually keeps the Earth key when I’m not carrying it.

  He senses my staring. His gaze flickers to mine, and his voice is pure, hollow despair as he says, “It’s gone.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next few days pass in a blur of hasty traveling, endless searching, and a growing, crushing sense of desperation.

  It’s no secret where Soren’s gone.

  I might have guessed, but I didn’t have to.

  Rumors travel fast, even in Canath.

  The same messenger that informed us of Casandra’s capture—a moraki, which is a weird combination of a bird and human capable of speech that Elric somehow understands—shows up on the third day after Soren’s disappearing act. The moraki informs us that the queen’s minions have now been ordered to kill me and my companions on sight. To burn and dispose of our bodies.

  So they know I no longer have the key.

  I’m assuming the reason for this is that the queen does have it.

  Of course he took it to her. To bargain for his sister, or to convince that queen herself to come back to him, to show him something like the motherly love that he hasn’t had for fifteen years now. I have a bad feeling that he probably didn’t get that love he was hoping for. But I can’t hate him for trying.

  Wou
ld hate help anything, really?

  Would it fix any of this mess?

  I don’t know if he’s even still alive at this point.

  All I know is that I’m heading north.

  If the Dusk Queen wants me dead, she’s going to have to kill me herself—because I plan on meeting her and having a little heart-to-heart before I leave this world.

  On our fourth day of traveling, the land begins to change. The forests and grassy valleys with occasional rocky plateaus and outcroppings give way to black ground that’s devoid of trees or even decent-sized bushes; it rolls and dips in a way that reminds me a bit of recently cooled lava fields. The still-red sky adds to the volcanic vibes, and the palace itself towers as high as any explosive mountain; I can see it looming on the horizon even when we’re still, by Elric’s calculations, at least thirty miles away.

  Rows of black dots are stationed around the perimeters of that palace—too small to make out, but I assume they’re soldiers. A trio of some sort of winged beasts are circling the structure’s silhouetted towers. Flames burn in the tallest of those towers, their light creating ominously glowing halos against the sky.

  Basically, if Hell had a real estate magazine, this looks like a residence that would be featured on the front cover.

  The sight of it all slows us to a stop. We take cover in an area where the dark ground dips lower than most of the area around it—a sort of natural bunker. Catching our breath, we lean against the rising hillside and peer warily over its crest.

  “Doesn’t look particularly welcoming, does it?” Liam says.

  “Understatement,” I mutter.

  “What exactly is our plan for storming this castle again?” he asks.

  “Backup—enough to distract most of the palace’s sentinels— should be here soon,” Elric assures us, dragging his staff through the thin layer of dust on the ground. He doesn’t stop until we’re completely surrounded in a sketched rectangle. The lines of it shimmer faintly. As he draws that staff away, the shimmering spreads up into the air, forming four nearly-invisible walls for a moment. Elric concentrates, mumbling words under his breath and swinging the staff at each wall in turn. They each fade as he points at them, and once they’re all gone, he gives a satisfied nod and adds: “This should keep us hidden, in the meantime.” Then he walks to the farthest corner of the constructed magical barrier and slips into meditative state.

  He looks way too peaceful, given our circumstances.

  Hopefully that means he’s really confident about the ones who are supposedly coming to help us get the key back. Impressive optimism—especially considering what happened to Casandra when she tried to summon help for us.

  (How do we know that the backup Elric sent for is really going to be on our side?) Carys asks, mirroring my own thoughts

  I keep the conversation to thoughtspeech as well, so that he can’t hear our doubts. (We don’t,) I reply.

  (But the alternative is facing that by ourselves,) Liam points out with a jerk of his head toward the Hell palace.

  Carys folds her arms across her chest and bites her lower lip. This isn’t her sort of adventure, I know. There were no books to read. Nothing for her to research. Even if our phones got signal here, somehow I doubt Googling ‘How to Storm a Palace and Kill an Evil Queen Who’s Also Your Friend’s Mother’ would return very many helpful results.

  We’re going into this blindly, aside from trusting the few things Elric has been able to tell us.

  And I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look more uncomfortable.

  Liam is hiding his discomfort a little better; he’s closed his eyes and leaned back against the hillside. Pretending to meditate like Elric is. But the fact that he’s quiet for once in his life is a sign that he doesn’t feel any better about this than Carys does, and for probably the millionth time I find myself wondering exactly what I’m dragging my best friends into.

  He still hasn’t said I told you so about Soren and this latest mess.

  Not even once.

  Neither has Carys.

  “So, this is probably your last chance to leave,” I offer. “I’m not sure where you could hide, but if you can manage it, it’s probably only a matter of time before Uncle Eli finds some other way to bring you back to Earth, right? Or if I manage to get the key back, I’ll come find you, even if you don’t want to—”

  “Please,” Liam mumbles without opening his eyes, “like we’re really going to leave you now.”

  I frown. “This mission isn’t just about the key, though,” I say quietly. “I’m planning to find Soren, too, and I know you guys probably think I shouldn’t bother, but…”

  “Says who?” Carys asks.

  “I…”

  “If he’s important to you, he’s important to us,” she says with a shrug. “He’s pack by association.”

  I stare at her, and she gives me a small, bemused smile, as if to say, duh, Elle. How could you think otherwise?

  “Don’t worry,” Liam says, cracking one eye open, “we’re going to get your idiot little boyfriend back.”

  “…Thanks.” Warmth floods my body in spite of the anxiety skipping through it.

  But one glance at that looming palace and everything in me turns cold again.

  How am I going to pull this off?

  Elric butts into the conversation and insists that we rest while we wait on our help to show up. But my nerves have other plans. I can’t stop pacing. Can’t stop twisting my sword around, cutting paths through the air and trying to comfort myself with the weight and ease of the movements.

  I’ve gotten good with it, at least.

  And the silver lining about having the key stolen is that I don’t have to worry about it messing with my powers. Magic, my shifting ability, my sword…Every sort of weapon I possess is at my full disposal for once.

  I just hope it’s enough.

  I’m determined to make sure it is, so while everyone else sleeps, I practice summoning tiny bits of magic through the blade. It’s almost second-nature, now. It doesn’t drain me as much as it used to, either. I lose track of time and I close my eyes, letting the magic flow through me and trying to use it to electrocute my anxiety out of existence.

  “Give it a rest,” Liam says, his sudden voice making me jump. “Elric was right: You should be saving your strength.”

  I hesitate. He beckons me toward him. And the way he’s looking at me reminds me of all the other times he’s managed to comfort me after my nightmarish visions or whatever else. I doubt ‘comfort’ is possible at the moment, but I can’t help but want it. So I drag myself over and plop down beside him.

  After a minute I say, “Carys said you told my parents you were the reason I disappeared.”

  He shifts his weight a bit but doesn’t say anything.

  “You’ve got to tell them the truth, if it comes to it,” I say. “This was on me. If I don’t make it back, but you do—”

  “Would you stop?”

  I stop.

  I stare at my blade still buzzing with faint magic as he says, “We’re all going to make it back. End of story.” He cuts me a sideways glare. “Because I am not having that conversation with your dad. Or your mom. Can you imagine how they would react if I told them you weren’t coming back?”

  “Vividly.” I sink against him, burying my face in his arm.

  “I wouldn’t even want to be in the same room with them when that news was delivered.”

  I nod in numb agreement.

  “So you’re not allowed to die.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “You better.”

  This conversation is getting a bit too deep, a bit too painful, so I keep quiet after that. I try to sleep. And his arm makes a surprisingly comfortable pillow, so after a few minutes I do manage to doze off—or I start to, anyway.

  Then I see a clear image in my mind: A long corridor lined in silk wallpaper the color of overripe plums. There are mirrors hanging every dozen feet or so, in between cr
ossed swords and other decorative weaponry, and at the very end of the hall there’s a tall wooden door marked with the symbol of Earth.

  Soren is standing in front of it.

  He lifts his hands as if to perform a spell. Something makes him pause. He glances over his shoulder just as flames begin to slip beneath the door, reaching closer and closer to him—

  And then they explode into an inferno that engulfs Soren and everything around him.

  I bolt upright, breathing hard.

  Everyone else is already awake.

  But they aren’t looking at me. No one’s noticed the way I’m gasping and shaking, because they’re all too busy staring into the distance, where a small army is marching toward the palace.

  It’s starting.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I’ve fought as a human for most of my life, and human is the form I decide to keep as we creep toward the palace. Mostly because I want my sword in my hand; I haven’t managed to successfully transform with it on my person yet, and I’ve got bigger things to focus my energy on.

  Besides, two giant wolves are a big enough risk when it comes to trying to be at least somewhat stealthy.

  We don’t need much stealth; there’s now a full-on war going on at the palace’s south-facing side, and most of the palace’s guards are distracted by it. Between that, and Elric’s magic cloaking us, we work our way to the back of the fortress-like establishment without much trouble.

  But his magic’s not foolproof. The shield slips if we move too fast or too far apart, and that makes our attempt to find our way inside nerve-wracking. We quickly and silently kill every guard that glimpses us, but I keep waiting for the moment when we miss one and they sound the alarm and put a stop to our castle-storming before we’ve barely gotten started.

  And then it happens: I’m slicing my way through my latest target when I suddenly feel Carys’s body vibrating beneath me as she growls, and out of the corner of my vision I see movement above. I wipe away the sweat dripping toward my eyes. I look up. There’s a person—or creature is probably a better word, considering how it moves; it leaps from watchtower to watchtower, swinging from one iron railing to the next and scrambling along the narrow edges with ease.