He nods. “She returned a few minutes ago. River is helping her clean up the mess the shadows made. Curious that they would ransack her home and not any of the others, though. Her husband’s things are all destroyed.” There’s suspicion in his voice. I suspect foul play too. The shadows decimated everything on the second half of the house. Jars shattered. Shelves irreparable. Documents ripped apart.
“I’ll take charge here,” Otis says, giving me a gentle push towards the wall. “Go rest a bit, Kyla. They won’t be coming in this weather.”
I wrap my cloak tight about me and step outside the wall. Boys and men are training for battle in the misty setting. Elder, more experienced warriors show the newest recruits some tactics in fighting shadows.
I recognize the sharp orders from a square that has been drawn in the dirt. Stepping through the crowd of eager children that has formed around it, I stand at its edge and watch as Shade instructs a young girl, barely fourteen years of age, in practical defense. She wields an Illathonian blade. Not Shade’s. Possibly a dead brother or father’s. In her eyes shines the spirit of revenge.
She won’t die.
Shade looks up, sees me, winks, and goes back to his teaching. He took me two hours to convince him to offer a few sparring lessons to the less experienced fighters we’d collected, but he finally agreed.
I smile and turn to find Axle. I’d been told he was working on the main focal point of my plan. His inventive skills far surpassed those of average Wilds folk. He and Gazel, the healer who’d tried to prevent me from saving Mama Opal, were a matched pair, both addressing the positive and negative aspects of my plan until it was foolproof.
I find Axle halfway up one side of Agron’s wall, nailing part of our plan in place. He looks down and grins when he discovers me watching him. “Turn you on?” he asks.
“Keegan would be more effective than you,” I retort.
“I wouldn’t doubt that.” He finishes and shimmies down the rope he’s attached to the wall. “Believe it or not, he’s very popular with the experienced ladies. I hear he has quite a few tricks up his sleeves.”
“None of them catch my interest.”
Axle’s eyes twinkle. “Ah, yes. I heard Shade’s story of how you came upon these creatures of the night. At the falls, was it? Now, what were the two of you doing all the way out there, I wonder?”
“Minding each others business!”
“Which part of Shade’s business were you minding?”
He ducks as I swing at him and grabs me from behind, gripping my wrists firmly so I can’t hit him. “Alright, I’ll agree that was a low-blow. If I let go of you, will you promise not to hit me?”
I nod. He lets go.
I kick him in the leg.
He yelps and hops on one foot for a few moments. “I should have known better than to fall for that one,” he hisses between clenched teeth.
“Shut up, and show me what you’ve done so far.”
I return to watch Shade and find him alone, cleaning his blades. His hair sticks to his head in a damp pile of soggy strands. Droplets of water form on his eyelids and flicker on his lashes. I stare at him. He doesn’t look up. His hand glides over the shiny surface of his weapon.
“When you finally decide to speak, I’ll be leaving,” he says. He places the sword atop the water bucket and looks at me in complete sincerity. “What is it that you need?”
I blink, feigning shock. “Is it so bad if I wanted to see you? Or are you not used to people staring at you?”
“Usually people only search me out when they want something.”
“That’s a twisted point of view.”
“But true, wouldn’t you say?” He winks at me. “So what do you want from me?” He steps around the bucket and comes to lean against the wall in front of me, eyes darting over my face carelessly. They drift to my lips. “Did you not get enough satisfaction last night?”
I draw back, putting a hand to his chest as he advances. His vest is open and my palm presses against the warm skin over his heart. It pulses beneath my hand and the outlined ridge of the dreadful white scar scratches my flesh. I pull it back immediately, a wave of heat wafting up my neck.
“Does it hurt?” I whisper.
He smiles. “It doesn’t hurt when you touch it.” He takes my hand and traces it over the zigzagging white line until I can memorize its shape. “It is rather ugly, isn’t it?”
I push aside my cloak to reveal the ostracized scar. “Really?”
He smiles. “We’re quite a couple, eh?”
I pull back, suddenly uncomfortable, and cover the scar with my cloak again. I hate looking at it. It is too dark. To horrible. It sickens me. It must sicken him too. I remove my hand from his chest and play with my fingers.
He stares at me, but doesn’t say anything. The silence draws out until I’m sure I could thread a needle with its length.
“You’ll be fighting with us, I presume?” he asks, returning to his sword and gripping its hilt. He swerves it in front of him. It radiates silver light.
I nod. “I’m borrowing one of Axle’s vests since he’s nearly as skinny as I.”
“You wish,” he grunts. He glances at my waistline. “If Axle were as thin as you I’d be giving him serious criticism on his diet.” He walks towards me, blade at his side. “What will you use as a weapon?”
“One of Agron’s stocked swords. A blunt knife.” I count off the weapons on my fingers. “Oh, and maybe a frying pan from Mama Opal’s kitchen.”
“Hardly sounds like a credible list for survival,” he remarks. He holds up the Illathonian blade. “You should have one of these.”
I catch my breath. “As I understand, Shade, you told me one must earn such a blade. They are rare.”
A strange smile flickers on his lips. “I think you’ve more than earned it, Kyla.” He pries my hand open and presses the hilt between my fingers. “A million times over.”
I stare at the blade – his blade – and can’t think of anything to say. It’s the same one that he used to save me back in Kirath. Its designs shine up at me and the blade gleams silver, washing my face in its light.
I throw myself into his arms and kiss him. His giving me the blade means so much more than mere protection. He’s given me his life – his past – his protection.
He’s given me him.
That night, I sneak into Shade’s cot and curl into his warmth. We lie there, trying to remain silent, so we won’t wake River and Axle sleeping nearby.
“Are you afraid?” Shade whispers.
“I’m always afraid.” I brush a hand across his chest, feeling the heartbeat beneath his skin. “But not when I’m with you.”
He sighs peacefully.
“Will you have nightmares tonight?” I ask, pressing my hand across his scar. It has become my favorite part of him – its what makes him Shade.
He leans over and brushes my mouth with his in a gentle caress. “You’ll chase them away for me,” he breathes.
We fall asleep kissing softly.
Chapter XXXVI
It has been two nights. We have stood, awake, all over the streets, hidden in darkness, waiting for the nightmares to appear.
They don’t.
We sleep during the day, struggling to retain our energy. Others act out a scene of everyday life for the shadows if they are watching.
And then it happens. From my hidden spot in the shadows of a dilapidated cottage, the moon disappears behind gray clouds. The square is plunged into complete darkness. Dipping into the square from the sky, like gods, shadows quickly fill the enclosure. Wisps of fog flutter into the air as more and more land.
I catch my breath.
There are at least a hundred of them.
Beside me, Axle reaches out and brushes a comforting hand over the buzzing spot on my bare shoulder. My legs cramp beneath me as I crouch so low my chin touches my knees.
Across the square, somewhere up on the wall, Shade is hiding with a group of the experie
nced warriors, waiting for my order.
One word from me will change this village forever.
One word from me will either save or slaughter every man, woman, and child in Agron.
One word from me will fuel or end the attacks from hell.
Beside me Axle stirs, as the shadows begin to flutter towards the peaceful homes. Homes they believe are inhabited by sleeping individuals. Homes that will fall easy prey to them tonight.
I hold out a hand when Axle starts to stand.
Not yet.
The shadows stop landing. There are no more. They are all in the square. All waiting for their master’s orders. All blissfully unaware of the danger that sits atop the wall they’ve just scaled.
I look at the sky. The moon peeks out from behind the clouds again, bathing the square in a dim light once more. It is not powerful enough to dissipate the shadows.
But it will be.
Soon.
I scan the caped figures, struggling to listen.
A shadow leans closer to one that is slightly larger than all the rest. “Orders, sir?”
“When you find her, bring her to me. Leave no one else alive.”
I recognize that deep, dark voice as the shadowy leader from my visions.
Standing, I draw Shade’s Illathonian blade – my Illathonian blade. “NOW!”
Up atop the wall, Shade hears my order. Suddenly the square is surrounded on all sides by such a great silver light that it hurts my own eyes. The giant oval mirrors that Axle and Gazel spent hours situating atop the wall, reflect the light of the moon straight into the square.
The air fills with evil. Shadows scream and flit about as great clumps tear away from their bodies and drift away in the night. Dark fog fills the air, choking off some of the light. The monsters hurry out of the middle of the square where the light is, straight into the warriors that surround them on all sides, Illathonian blades drawn and ready.
The moon disappears behind clouds again. The square is plunges into darkness once more. The shadows revitalize themselves and pull their own blades.
I step into the open, the Illathonian blade casting pale light across my face. I hope I look frightening, with curly hair spilling around my face, the ostracized mark glaring proudly on my shoulder, and the powerful blade clutched firmly in hand.
The shadows draw back, rallying into a circle. Their shrieks of terror are replaced with rage. They realize they’ve been tricked.
“Don’t let any of them escape!” I scream and plunge into the shadowy circle, swinging left and right. Clumps of darkness dot the sky above me. I let out a warrior’s cry of battle.
The other warriors echo the same cry, and the battle begins.
All around me, shadowy talons reach for my skin. I hack them away. Darkness pushes against me more than once, tripping me, but my blade holds true.
“Kyla, duck!” I obey and Axle slices over my head, destroying the shadow attempting to come at me from above. Sweat dots his forehead as he leans over to catch a breath.
We look around the square.
Half of the shadows were wiped out by the lights. More are slowly dissipating into the sky. Still, they fight. Their leader is still alive.
I search the area for him.
The giant shadow is finishing off two warriors, his weapons of a very different make. They are like whips but, as if by silent command, they take the shape of a sword. The deception of the weapon is unique.
This shadow is not any normal shadow. He’s something much more dangerous.
And, unlike in my visions, he doesn’t reveal the talons from beneath his cape.
I move in its direction. Axle notices I’ve walked away and sees where my attention has gone. “Kyla!” he tries to grab at me, but two shadows step in his way, demanding his attention. “Kyla! Don’t.”
Five other shadows see the direction of my mission and dart in front of me, their own dark blades rivaling with mine. There are too many for me. One blade scrapes across my thigh, slicing through fabric. I gasp, and watch it bleed for a few seconds. One of the shadows gets too close, too quickly, and I take advantage of the moment, slicing it around the shoulders of its cape. It screams as the light blinds it and immediately drifts away into the sky like a stream of ink on paper. The remaining four energize their attack.
One shrieks again and dissipates into a black clump of smoke. Keegan steps up beside me, pressing shoulder-to-shoulder. “Need help?” he asks.
I really want to tell him to go piss himself, but when he slams the hilt of his Illathonian blade into the shadow sneaking up behind us and laughs at its pain, I know I need him.
I press back-to-back with him.
He chuckles. “Not half bad of a plan, by the way, Kelban? Are you sure your father wasn’t a general instead of a High Lord?” He kicks a shadow away, and it falls to the ground, a raspy groan emanating beneath its hood.
“Well . . .” I slice at a shadow’s shoulder, catching it off-guard, “. . . there is quite a bit of warrior’s blood . . . in my family tree!” Two more shadows fall to the blade. My path towards the leader – Grag – is slowly opening. A few more swings of Keegan’s wild maneuvers, and I will be able to reach it.
But with each frantic strike of my blade, Grag is retreating at exactly the same pace. He lays another warrior to rest on the hard cobblestones and casts furtive glances around the square. In every corner, shadows are screaming and fluttering away, lifeless, in the night sky.
The clouds hiding the moon are almost gone.
Grag turns and disappears over the edge of the wall, skating towards the forest.
He can’t get away.
Keegan sees the direction of my gaze. “Kyla, no . . .” He tries to grab at me, but I slip between the two shadows in front of me and run towards the wall. Keegan tries to follow, but the two shadows prevent him from doing so. “Kyla!”
I peer over the rail of the wall and spot Grag’s cape disappearing through the trees. Without a second though, I launch myself over the rail and twist and turn on the sixty foot descent. To my shock, I land as softly as a breeze on the ground below.
Ignoring the mysterious event, I rush into the forest, enabling all the tracking skills Shade drilled into my pulsing mind.
Grag . . . You are mine.
It is difficult to follow the shadow’s trail in the darkened forest, but the Illathonian blade casts a faint glow on the forest floor, revealing patches of smashed leaves and broken vines. Shadows can’t float forever, it seems.
I am gazing at the ground so intently that I almost walk straight into the stone building in front of me. When I peer at it more closely, it is nothing but a ruin. I raise my blade high above my head.
I am in the ruins of Lithean.
The stone relics rise up through the mist, eerily, and cloud my senses. Everything looks like a shadow now.
“You were a fool to follow me, girl!” The voice came from behind me.
I spin around, but there is only mist.
“Speak. I know you can hear me.” The voice is on my right this time.
“I’d of thought a grand leader like yourself wouldn’t succumb to retreat.” I glance furtively around the ruins, but I am blind to Grag’s presence.
His laughter rises up all around me in unearthly echoes. I swing the Illathonian blade in circles around me.
“That damned weapon can’t protect you from me!” A black talon slices out from the mist and my Illathonian blade falls ten feet to my right. I rush towards it, but another black wisp grips my ankle and trips me. I fall flat on my stomach. I crawl to the blade anyway and grasp it, stumbling to my feet once more.
Grag finally reveals himself . . . emerging from the mist like a creature of death coming to take me away. His two whip-blades slither at his sides, but I know they can harden into a solid entity in a matter of seconds. He is smaller than he’d appeared to be in my visions. Only seven feet tall.
But seven feet or twelve feet, he is terrifying.
&n
bsp; He strikes at me with one of the whips, trying to curl it around my leg. I slip to the side in a fluid motion that leaves the whip grasping empty air.
“Don’t test me, girl. I’ve grown tired of hunting you down. Make this easy for both of us and just let me cut your throat.” He slices the whip towards me again. I duck. It hardens into spear-like form and dips downwards towards my head. I turn and it slams into the dirt, inches from my feet. I back away from it.
“Last chance,” Grag snarls, “you let me cut your throat – or I’ll cut you in pieces while you’re still living and breathing to hear every tendon, every muscle, every bone rip apart.”
Images of the grove in Brunt, where bodies had been tied to trees and tortured, fuels the anger inside of me.
My fingers find a rock, and I throw it at him as hard as I can. To my surprise, it doesn’t go straight through him like I’d expected, but strikes him beneath the hood. I hear a sound that is very familiar to metal.
A helmet? A mask?
“Bitch!” Grag snarls.
A talon lashes from the mist and crashes into my side, throwing me ten feet sideways into a brick wall. My ribs crack against the hard surface, but I don’t relinquish my blade. The next talon that strikes at my legs, I hack in two with all my strength. Grag screeches and the piece of darkness I cut off starts to wither. I watch in awe. It doesn’t turn into fog like a shadow’s wisps should. Instead, it hardens into a block that looks like burnt wood.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Illverna!” A wave of darkness crashes into me, slamming me against one of the ruins. Stones crumble with the force of the blow, and I scream in pain as the rocks rain down over my body. A wisp of darkness wraps around my ankle and lifts me into the air. I try to kick at it, to no avail. It throws me. I come to a rolling halt against the ground, my shoulder crunching against a tree. Blinding pain sears my entire left side.
Grag looms towards me. “You’re a foul piece of worthless filth that should never have been created,” he says as he wraps a hard talon around my neck and lifts me into the air again. I grasp the shimmering wisp tightly, but he throws me anyway. I roll to a painful halt, my legs throbbing from the impact.
Ostracized (The Ostracized Saga Book 1) Page 58
