Carth pulled on the shadows, wrapping them around her, and leapt once more, feeling the scholar using his magic at about the same time.
The area where she had just been erupted, soil and clumps of grasses flying where she had stood moments before.
While in the air, she twisted, sending the shadows down, pressing them like a blanket, trying to suffocate the big man first, wanting to know whether shadows would do anything against him.
They rolled off him.
Fighting was not an option, not unarmed as she was, not against someone who clearly had magical abilities that she did not fully understand just yet.
There was another option, one that did not involve fighting, but instead involved simply getting free. She rolled to the side, reaching for the smaller man at the same time as the scholar pulsed out with his power once more, and wrapped them in shadows, enveloping them completely.
They sank into the shadows, disappearing.
Carth took slow steps backwards, sliding with the shadows, afraid to release the connection. She would be hidden within the darkness, but she didn’t know what else would happen were she to release that connection.
The smaller man glanced at her, the question on his lips reflected in his eyes.
She shook her head. They continued to step backwards. As she moved away from the larger man and the scholar, neither of them appeared to know how to follow them.
Carth continued to slide backwards, moving away from them, contained in the shadows.
When they were far enough, the smaller man—Timothy, she had heard him called—glanced back at her.
“They’ll pursue us.”
Carth sighed. They might pursue them, and she needed to stay ahead of the scholar and the large man. She needed to reach the wagons, reach the caravan, free the women, destroy the flat-eyed man, and reclaim her weapons.
Then, and only then, she suspected she might have a way to defeat them.
It depended upon finding Dara, reuniting with Lindy, and using those with other abilities.
“Maybe,” she whispered.
They emerged onto the road, and Carth continued holding the shadows around her. “The caravan,” she whispered. “Take me to the caravan, and I’ll keep you safe.”
The smaller man gave the same half smile and only nodded.
They traveled through the night, slowly getting farther and farther away from the other two. Carth could feel them through her connection to the shadows, and could even detect them through her connection with the A’ras flame.
She was safe, for now. She didn’t know how long that would last, and hoped that it would be long enough for her to reach the wagons.
Rescue the girls. Kill the flat-eyed man. Find Dara.
She added one more: stay ahead of the scholar.
That was all she could think of.
19
Carth and Timothy hurried along the road. The sounds of the night enveloped her, familiarity that she had missed in the time since she had been captured. It was something she had missed without realizing it while she had been traveling by ship the last few months. There were the occasional chirping of insects, the calling of the hooting owls in the trees, the scurry of something small underfoot, and the lone howl of wolves.
The air had a crispness to it, one that carried with it the earthen odor of drying grass and the fragrance of flowers, mixed with the hints of a coming rain. For so many months, Carth had known only the smell of the sea, that of salt and fish and the stench of men long overdue for bathing. This was better.
They stopped at a stream after walking for several hours. Carth leaned in and took a few long drinks of the water, cupping it to her lips and drinking eagerly. It was clean and clear, something she had not had during her capture. As they stopped, Timothy watched her, his eyes narrowed and a wry smile turning his lips.
“When did you regain your powers?” he asked her as she took her fill of water.
It’d been so long since she had dared drinking fully, so long since she had felt anything but thirst and dry mouth. Carth let the water fill her. It rolled down her chin and she didn’t bother to wipe it away. There was no need to hide the fact that she was sated.
“When you found me.”
“Chathem was a fool. I still don’t know why he wanted someone ‘feisty’.”
“I’m more than feisty.”
Timothy smiled. “I see that.”
She studied him. “Where are you from?”
“Neeland.” When she frowned at him, he tipped his head, the amused smile still crossing his face. “You haven’t heard of Neeland?” Carth shook her head. Timothy shrugged. “I suppose that’s not too uncommon. Neeland is an island to the northwest, and those who come from there are in a different industry than I suspect you are in.”
“What kind of industry is that?”
“Mercenaries.”
“Mercenaries? What exactly does that mean?”
Timothy patted the sword strapped to his side. “Means what I said. Most who know of Neeland know of the services they can purchase from us. That’s usually the service they’re after when they come looking for my people.”
Carth made a point of holding on to her connection to the shadows as she had done since escaping, not knowing how much she could truly trust this man. The fact that he referred to himself as a mercenary in such casual terms made her leerier of what his intentions were.
“Why help me? If you’re a mercenary, why would you go against the men who hired you?”
His smile remained, and he stood watching her with the same quizzical look in his eyes, as if he measured her, as if deciding how much to share. Since he was a mercenary, it was entirely possible that was what he did.
“I’m still on the job.”
“What job is that?”
He shrugged. “Chathem wasn’t my employer. I was sent to observe, look for one with particular abilities, and—”
She faded into the shadows, prepared for whatever he thought to do.
Timothy held his hands out, laughing darkly. “I’m not here to harm you. If I was here to harm you, I would’ve done so back in the camp when you were diminished. Now that your abilities have returned, I’m not entirely sure I could hurt you.”
Carth released her connection, letting it fade. “Who hired you?”
Timothy kneeled by the stream, taking a long drink from the water. He glanced up at her after he did, the amused smile still on his face as it had been since they had first escaped. “I don’t get a name. That’s not how these things work. We’re sellswords. Mercenaries. We’re given a job. We do the job. We get the rest of our payment.”
“So that’s what I am? A job?”
Timothy stood, dusted his hands on his pants, and he shrugged. “Something like that.” He nodded towards the west, the direction they were headed. Hopefully toward the wagons that Carth wanted to reach. “What’s that way? Why are you after the wagons?”
Carth tipped her head at him, mimicking his smile. “You’re not the only one with a job.”
Timothy watched her, and after a moment he started to laugh.
They reached a narrow road late in the night. The road had evidence of recent travel: tracks were dug into the soft ground, and she saw the passing of horses, from the trampling of their hooves. She saw nothing else, nothing that would help her know whether or not the wagons had come through here or whether this was some other caravan.
Timothy studied the tracks, pacing up and down the road as he did, his eyes seeming to catch things that she didn’t see. He glanced back at her after a while, his mouth pinched in a frown.
“What is it?” Carth asked.
Timothy shook his head. “I count four wagons. A dozen horses. Several men on foot.” He looked up at her. “What was this? What were you expecting to find?”
Carth stared at the tracks. “Four tracks, you say?”
Timothy nodded. He motioned to the road, towards where the tracks were dug into the soft earth.
“The ground is soft here, and wagons have a slightly different set to their wheels, and they don’t move through identically. If you know what to look for, you can see slightly different paths moving through here, several different trails made by several different wagons. I count four. Could be I’m off, but I don’t think so.”
There had only been two when she was captured. Did that mean that they had met up with another? Or was it a different set of wagons?
Unfortunately, Carth suspected that they had met up with another rather than having a second set. It seemed more likely that the men traveling from Asador had met up with men traveling from one of the other great cities along the coast. If they were smuggling other women out, it made sense that they would attempt to do that from multiple places.
“These wagons carry others like me. This is where Chathem bought me.”
Timothy’s face darkened, his mouth tightening again, pinching into a distasteful frown. “A foul thing he thought to do. Chathem wanted to use you, though I’m not exactly sure what he intended. Most men think to use these women for other reasons.”
Carth fought back the hint of anger that surged through her. “I intend to see them freed. Nothing more will happen to these women if I have anything to do with it.”
“You think you’re powerful enough to stop them?”
She had rarely doubted her abilities. She had faced horrible enemies in both the Hjan and the blood priests, and never had she truly felt powerless the way she had when she was captured by the slaver. Even when she was captured by Ras, she had never felt the same sort of hopelessness. He had challenged her, daring her to prove her worth, ultimately teaching her how to play the game of Tsatsun.
The man who’d captured her had wanted her for one reason, and it horrified her. It sickened her that others would be subjected to something like that. Not only her, but her friends, and those she cared about.
With resolve building in her, she nodded. “I intend to free them all, destroy the slavers, and do what I can to make sure that my friends are brought to safety.”
“Good. Because we’re closer then I realized.” He nodded down the road.
Carth followed the direction of his nod but didn’t see anything. She didn’t hear anything either, but given the casual sort of competence she had seen from him, she didn’t doubt that what he detected was real. On the contrary, she suspected that it was exactly what he had detected.
She reached through her connection to the shadows, wrapping them around her, fading into them, and focused on movement.
At first there was nothing, but the longer she remained concealed, wrapped within them, the more she became aware of something pressing against that power. She added a hint of the S’al magic, pulling from deep within her, letting it fill her so she could detect the heat that flickered in the distance. After a while—a dozen heartbeats, perhaps longer—she felt the steady tension from her magic, and with it she felt the distant presence of others.
Her eyes snapped open, and she turned to Timothy.
“How did you know they were there?”
He shrugged. “I’m from Neeland. We have a different sort of ability than those of your kind. Different even then those of these lands. It’s sort of an awareness, one that allows us to be skilled trackers, skilled hunters. You wouldn’t understand.”
She studied him. She thought she would understand.
Holding on to the shadows, keeping herself wrapped within them, she glided down the road, moving stealthily, concealing not only herself, but also Timothy.
As they traveled, she became more and more aware of the distant sense of the others.
The caravans.
Now it was clear that Timothy had been right. There were more than two caravans. There were more than four, though, as well. She counted six, with nearly two dozen horses and nearly as many soldiers. They were camped in the night, the fire still crackling faintly. Two sentries stood guard on either end of the road.
Hidden by the shadows, she was safe, but she didn’t know how long that would last. How long would they be able to maintain their safety bound by the shadows?
Carth retreated from the road and hid near a copse of trees, letting the trees provide natural coverage so that she didn’t have to hold quite so tightly to the potentially unnatural shadows. Timothy watched her, his head cocked to the side almost as if listening, before turning his attention back to her.
“What did you see?”
“More than you suspected. There are six wagons and two dozen soldiers.” How many more were there that she hadn’t been able to count? If she played this wrong, she ran the risk not only of getting recaptured, but of losing the opportunity to get these women to freedom.
Then again, this was bigger than what she had expected. If there were six wagons, how many more would she find if she traveled with them?
“Why are you smiling?” Timothy asked.
Carth laughed darkly. “Because I’m starting to have a different plan.”
20
If Carth waited too long, it would be daylight before she took action, and she wanted to have the safety and protection of the shadows to provide additional support. The power of the S’al would provide her increased strength, but there was safety and security in holding tightly to the shadows.
She had to play this right.
Carth thought about attacks she had been a part of in the past. There had been fights with the A’ras as well as the Reshian. With the A’ras, it had been about overwhelming whoever she faced, using the power of the flame and of the training of the A’ras. With the Reshian, they used the power of the shadows to confuse and obfuscate their presence.
There was another way, that of Ras, who used his mind to manipulate the situation into the fight he wanted. That was what she needed now.
Carth started slowly pulling on the shadows. As she did, a fog began to build, one that wasn’t natural, but appeared as if it were nothing more than a simple fog.
Timothy watched her, his gaze unreadable.
Carth nodded to him. “Do you intend to observe only, or do you intend to help?” When he didn’t answer her immediately, she shook her head. “I know this wasn’t part of your job, and you weren’t hired for this, but I saw the way you reacted when you heard me describe my time with my captors. You’re no more excited about the way they use women than I am. How skilled are you with that sword?”
He laughed softly, the sound barely carrying in the fog. “You really know nothing about Neeland, do you?”
Carth shrugged. “I don’t know anything about Neeland. I recognize a man with who is familiar with the sword, and likely competent. If you are, I could use you with what we’re going to do here.”
Timothy stood and unsheathed the sword. He made a quick few quick slashes, arcing through movements that made it clear that he had more than a passing familiarity with his sword. With a flourish, he slipped his sword back into a sheath.
“The Neelish are swordmasters. That’s why we’re so valued and prized as mercenaries.”
Carth gazed at him a moment. She lunged, grabbing for his sword and unsheathing it, managing to do so before he could react, and recreated the same movements. When she was complete, she darted around him, flowing on the shadows, and slammed the sword back into his sheath.
“The A’ras are also swordmasters.”
Timothy chuckled. “I think Chathem fully underestimated you.”
Carth crossed her arms over her chest, focusing on the soldiers, the wagons, and the women inside them. “Will you help?”
Timothy nodded. “I’m not sure I have much of a choice.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He chuckled, the sound muted in the night. “I will help.”
The shadows were thick around her, held in the most potent cloak she’d ever attempted, drawn around her in a way that she had only seen once before. That was when she had traveled to Isahl and worked with Andin. She had never drawn upon the shadows herself in quite th
e same way, but knew that they could be used in this manner.
Draping them around her, she searched for a supply wagon first. If she could find one, come up with the right combination of medicines, she could dose the soldiers before it came to bloodshed.
It wasn’t that she was opposed to fighting them, but using the shadows in the way she did gave her such an advantage that it would’ve felt like a slaughter. At least in this way, she felt as if she gave them a chance.
Timothy crouched next to her and leaned into her ear, whispering softly, “What will you do when they wake?”
“Most of these are simple hired help. They aren’t the ones responsible for these women. When they awaken, see their women are gone, see their leaders are gone, they’ll disperse and hopefully return to their homes.”
“And when they don’t?”
Carth clenched her jaw. “That’s when they’ll learn to fear me.”
She paused at the first wagon, pulling the door open enough to peer inside. When she held on to the shadows in this way, it changed her perception of light, and she could see through the darkness as if it were an early-morning light.
She scanned the interior of the wagon, counting the women inside. Most were sleeping quietly, although one stared straight ahead, her gaze fixed on Carth as soon as she had opened the door. She trembled and her mouth opened as if to scream. There was no sign of Dara.
Carth brought a finger to her lips, trying to shush her before the woman did scream.
She understood this woman’s fear and trepidation. She had been through enough, and likely had seen others within the wagon brought away, either to return injured or not at all.
Carth pitched her voice low. “I intend to get you to safety, but first you need to be quiet.”
The woman didn’t make any expression, nothing that would indicate that she understood, but she didn’t scream either. Carth considered that a victory.
There were no supplies in that wagon, so she moved on to the next. Timothy followed her, his sword unsheathed, the blade barely reflecting any light. She wondered if that was something to the steel or whether it was related to the way she had him cloaked.
Shadow Cross (The Shadow Accords Book 5) Page 11
