He stares at it, then at me. “That’s my Kyla.”
His Kyla. He called me his Kyla.
Maybe there is hope for him and I. Maybe he won’t mind about what I am. Maybe his feelings for me might push my true origins aside.
“Shade,” I say.
He mumbles a quiet answer as he peruses the map’s contents with quick, darting eyes.
“Do you think that, maybe, we might be wrong about them? The shadows I mean?” Despite the urge to look away when his eyes meet mine, I continue to look at him. To watch his dark eyes squint at me from beneath furrowed brows.
“Why would you think that, Kyla?”
I shrug. “They had a library. Books. Knowledge. Would monsters have that? Would monsters care about such things?”
He shakes his head. “They could have a damn temple, and I would still think they’re monsters. Things like them aren’t fit to breathe. To walk this earth. And someday, I’ll make sure they don’t.”
Those words affirm my decision.
I lean over the map with him and point to the place I’d already planned as his only chance for escape. A small lift operated by a crane on the outskirts of the city, along the cliffs and the edge of the mountains. It lowers to the sea beneath. From there he’ll be able to swim towards the Wilds.
I don’t let myself think about how I’m going to convince him to leave me behind.
Shade’s plan to bash the two Ebonian guards heads together doesn’t go as planned because I smash them against the wall with my power under the guise that they jump up too quickly and slip. One of them I leave conscious long enough to let Shade slam him into the wall, but I grab his arm and rush him down the hall before he can do any serious damage. Shade, his heart pumping with the same adrenaline, doesn’t protest.
The map gave a very detailed sketch of the palace, but there was no time to commit it to memory. With thirty minutes left to get Shade halfway through the city before Roke makes good on his promise to follow us, I had to be satisfied with a brief study. Three long hallways, four stairwells, and eight more hallways should lead us to a room labeled as the “Obsidian Court.” That room is supposed to provide access to the city.
Our flight goes uninterrupted by any guards. I make a note to speak to Trtihar about the absence of proper security. Although, I suppose, with our powers we’re hardly in need of much protection.
Shade, who is leading the way, suddenly pauses, throwing out a hand, but I’ve already stopped. From down the long hallway, one of the last ones towards our destination, the tramp of feet is plainly evident. Shade’s muscles tense, preparing for a fight, but I know, from the sound, there are too many to fight. Grabbing his arm, I pull him into the darkness that coats the hallway, cursing the smooth walls for robbing us of proper cover. Shade shields me behind him. I ache to tell him that it’s not I who cannot be caught.
A small group of Ebonian soldiers, dressed in black uniforms with glittering ebony breastplates, stomp past us, glancing neither left nor right. They follow a single Ebonian captain as he plods forward relentlessly, no emotion in the eyes peering through the slits of his mask.
Roke, if he notices my presence, doesn’t show it and he and his men pass by.
I know they’re heading towards my room to get Shade. To execute him.
At their pace, they’ll reach my room in twenty minutes.
I grab Shade’s arm and practically run the rest of the way down the hall, ignoring Shade’s whispers of warning. I’ll snap the neck of any Ebonian who might see us if it means getting him out of this palace in one piece.
The hallway opens up into a large room and when I step into it the beauty steals my breath away. The “Obsidian Court,” as it was wisely named, might as well have been carved from one block of mass, glittering ore. It glints and gleams in the light of torches lining its walls. Large, glimmering pillars stab upwards into the air, hundreds of feet high. It is so dark, I cannot see the ceiling, but I’m sure it shines just as beautifully. This is the entrance to the palace of Ebonia. An entrance to a place of dark, unearthly beauty beyond words or knowledge.
I could stare at this room forever, but Shade, who also marvels at the sheer willpower and talent that must have been required to make this masterpiece, must escape.
We run through the room, our shadows glimmering on the shiny pillars and floor as we pass. The room is endless, stretching for what seems to be eternity, until I spot two double doors open to the night air. They are so tall I’m sure they were designed for the gods instead of mere men. When Shade and I step beyond them, the city lights, blinking at the foot of the mountain this palace occupies, steal my breath, yet again. So many of them, so close together, and so bright. A sign of life and warmth in this dark place. Were it not for the occasional white flutters of fog blotting out the lights, I could have mistaken it for a Kelban city.
There are no guards down the long slope, but when we reach the city limits, absent of gates, and step onto the paved streets, the slight fluttering sound of capes reach my ears. Shade reacts first, snatching me into a nearby alley with him and pressing me tightly against the wall. An Ebonian guard slowly floats past our hiding place, his head sagging slightly. He doesn’t wear a hood and his brown hair is braided down his back. Were it not for the ebony mask on his face, there would be nothing shadowy about him. His feet don’t touch the ground and white wisps flow out from within his cloak. I make a note to ask Trithar of the strange phenomenon later.
Nudging Shade away from me, I step into the street again. The lights are scarce throughout the city, despite the appearance from the palace doors, making it easy for us to keep to the shadows. But as we pass through the city, closer and closer, to the mountains that it presses up against, the pain in my head burns fiercer. It becomes increasingly difficult to keep Shade focused as more shadow guards pass us by. Our hiding places become fewer and fewer when the stone houses we use as cover become closer and closer together until there is no space left to squeeze.
I see the next guard before Shade does, but only by mere moments. Before Shade can launch himself into an attack, the guard’s cape suddenly finds itself torn from his body and floating halfway down the street. Cursing, the owner of the cape hurries after it, giving us time to sneak by him and into darkness once more. Shade doesn’t remark upon the strange occurrence, but his body remains tense and ready to attack.
At last, the city comes to an end and the ground becomes rocky and barren. I stumble across several gaping holes in the formation before turning a corner and finding myself staring at a large formation of rock going up, up, up one side into the mountains and the other side rising into a black marble peak. A crane of iron rests atop the peak, stretching out over the cliff’s edge.
And it’s snapped in two, it’s broken end hovering over the sea thousands of feet beneath.
I stare at it, willing it to rise, whole and strong again, but nothing happens.
Shade shakes his head, rage and fear lighting his face. He rubs his jaw nervously.
I step up to the cliff’s edge and peer over. I cannot see the sea hiding beneath the layers of fog swirling up from its surface. But I can hear the waves, crashing against the side of the Dark Mountains. Just weeks ago I had stood on a cliff on the opposite side of the sea, staring in this same direction.
“We’ll have to climb down,” Shade says, as if reading my thoughts.
I shake my head. It took me hours, without any experience, to climb down the cliffs from the village of Gavrone. It will take Shade just as much time, if not longer, because of his injuries. Every wince and slight intake of breath he uses to disguise his pain hasn’t escaped my attention.
I shake my head.
“We can,” Shade insists, that determined ire rising in him. He steps up behind me. “A few bruises won’t stop me.”
“You’ve got a broken rib, Shade!”
He blinks. He must have thought I didn’t notice.
“You can get to safety,” I say softly. “Just
go.” I point at the edge of the cliff.
He stares at me, confused.
“You can get to safety,” I repeat.
He shakes his head. “No.”
“Shade, please . . .”
“No!” he snaps, anger in his eyes. “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you behind. Forget it!”
“You have to,”
“No. I left you once – I won’t do it again. I’m not leaving you behind to face these monsters on your own. It’s not happening, Kyla, you hear me? You don’t understand what they can do to you. What they will do you. I won’t let that happen. I can’t let them hurt you like they . . .”
“Shade,” I try to interrupt. It’s been over an hour.
He’ll never leave me behind – unless what he leaves behind is what he despises most in the world.
“If you think for one second, Kyla, that I’m going to leave you here like some damned fool than you . . .”
“Shade!” I scream and the desperation in my voice cuts his sentence in half, leaving him stunned.
I draw a sharp breath inward, preparing to say the words that will break us into irreparable pieces.
“I am a shadow.”
Chapter XLIV
Shade stares at me for a long moment before releasing a steady, slow breath. He shakes his head, that cool rage in his face shifting to something else I can’t identify. “If you think a shitty lie like that is going to make me leave you behind, Kyla, you must take me for a bigger asshole than I really am.”
I keep my face calm – even I’m grasping, very loosely, for restraint. “It’s not a lie. In fact, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”
He laughs off my words, but the gleam at the corners of his eyes has dulled.
“It didn’t make sense that a Kelban girl could survive a shadow blade’s blow, did it? Did it make any sense when a Kelban girl could understand them when no one else could?” I see the thoughts churning behind his eyes as they remain fixated on me – on my eyes. My face. My shoulder, where the ostracized scar is hidden beneath my shirt.
“I can understand them,” I continue, “because I’m one of them. Because the same blood that flows in their veins, flows in mine. I’m a shadow, Shade.”
“Bullshit!” he snaps.
“Shade, please . . . I’ve bought you some time. In a few minutes, Roke will be coming for you. He’ll . . .”
“Roke? Coming for me? What the hell are you say . . .”
“Damn it, Shade, would you just listen to me and go already!” I point at the cliff’s edge, glancing behind me, afraid I’ll see a squadron of soldiers marching around it coming to take him away. Coming to kill him. “Go! Now!”
Shade doesn’t even look at the cliff, keeping his gaze locked on mine. And it hurts. It hurts that he’s still looking at me. Still denying the truth I’ve laid in front of him. Still wasting time when his life is hanging by five minutes. He shakes his head at me, stubborn to the end. “Kyla, I’m not . . .”
The pulse in my hand is there without hesitation and gently lifts one of the tiny rocks, no bigger than my hand, from the ground. I let the rock hover in front of me, far from any limb that might appear to be holding it, and move it from side to side. Up and down.
Shade’s eyes widen, his eyes never leaving the rock, as I bring it closer and closer to his open palm and allow it to fall into his hand, releasing my invisible hold. His thumb strokes the harsh ridges as if he needs to feel it to believe what I just did. He blinks, but the rock is still there.
I wait for him to look at me, but he doesn’t.
“T-this doesn’t prove . . . you’re . . . it’s not . . .” He stammers for the right words, but there are no words to explain what I’ve just done.
He wants proof. So I give him proof.
“The tree branch that mysteriously fell on the Gavronite, the stone wall that collapsed on the razor, the destruction of Grag, the fire lashing at the Unnamed . . . do those all seem like coincidences? Do you really believe that? You don’t, do you? No one – no one – is that lucky!”
“Stop,” he whispers, his eyes still fixated on the rock in his hand. A hand that has started trembling violently.
“That man who tossed you into the wall with nothing but the slice of his hand is Trithar, Emperor of Ebonia . . . of shadows . . .” I pause, allowing those words to sink in, “. . . and I’m his daughter.”
Shade’s chin snaps up, his eyes meeting mine.
“Remember his face,” I say, “and compare it to mine. What do you see?”
He narrows his eyes, squinting at my features in the dim light. I flinch beneath his harsh, prying gaze. It resembles the looks he used to give me when we first met – when I was nothing to him. His eyes widen and I don’t have to tell him anything else. He knows. He knows I’m telling the truth. He turns his back and stares over the edge of the cliff.
Climb, I want to scream at him. Climb, you stubborn ass.
He lifts the rock in his hand and, with a cry of rage that shatters the silence of the night, hurls it into the open air beyond the ledge. We both watch it sail like a bird until it loses its momentum and plunges into the foggy clouds beneath.
Shade keeps his back to me. I watch his muscles tighten as he squares his own shoulders and curls his hands into fists. He remains silent, staring at the distant mountains on the other side of the sea.
“Shade . . .”
“Don’t,” he snaps, his tone deadly cold – and full of denial.
“I’m a shadow.”
“Don’t.” His voice breaks.
“I’m a shadow,” I insist.
“You’re not!”
I step towards him and, grabbing his shoulder, I spin him around. He tries to keep his head down, but not before I see the tears slithering down his cheeks. His lips quiver as he struggles to look anywhere but straight at me. Anywhere but the truth written on my face.
“I’m a shadow, Shade.” I grip his chin, gently, and force him to look at me. To meet my gaze. To watch my lips as I speak. “A gods-damned shadow.”
He believes me. Despite how hard I see him trying to deny it – trying to avoid it – he knows. And it’s breaking him.
It’s breaking me.
I palm his face in my hands, his skin warm against mine, as his tears drift over my fingers. I wait for him to pull away from my touch. To throw me aside. To deny the truth one last time.
But he doesn’t.
My throat is tight, like someone is choking me, and I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t focus. All I can see are his eyes. His tears. His lips . . .
I kiss him, thumbs brushing over the tears and stubble on his face. I kiss him softly, at first, wanting to savor the moment. To memorize how his lips feel beneath mine and how his warmth starts a fire through every part of my body. I thread my fingers through his hair, grasping desperately at the thick strands, and deepen the kiss.
He doesn’t make a sound. Only pulls me in close to him, until every part of him is flush against every part of me, and he’s kissing me back with trembling lips.
It takes me a moment to realize I’m crying too. Trying to hold in the sobs that ache to be set free. Trying to concentrate on kissing him so I forget the pain. The loss. The burn that is groping at my heart with shredding claws.
Shade holds me so tightly, it hurts.
Don’t let go. Please, don’t let go of me.
But he does, tearing our lips apart, and shoving me away.
I remind myself that I was expecting his disgust, but it still hurts when he wipes furiously at his mouth.
Wipes me from his mouth.
I wanted that. I want him to despise me. To hate me. To leave me.
But, despite what I knew he would do, I had hoped he’d forget what I was. What blood ran through my veins. What those with that same blood in their veins had done to him.
I shake my head. Fool.
We stare at each other warily, neither one of us knowing what to say or what to do.
The tramp of feet just around the corner reaches my ears.
Shade hears it too and wipes the tears from his eyes.
“Go!” I plead, but the word is useless. We both know he won’t climb fast enough.
“Damn it,” I growl through clenched teeth, staring at the ledge. At the broken crane. At the foggy clouds that hide the sea from view. “Damn it!”
Shade merely ignores me and stares at the corner with calm determination. The glint returns to his eyes, but this time it’s different. It’s violent and brutal and completely devoid of any humanity. He will fight them . . . and he will die for it.
I stare at the ledge again, a vivid memory churning in my mind.
I shake my head. No.
It didn’t work last time. It won’t work this time.
But last time, I wasn’t strong.
I am now.
The noise of the approaching soldiers becomes closer, until its echoing in my ears. When I turn around, there they are: ten soldiers in gleaming black armor. Standing in front of them, his legs planted firmly against the stony ground, is Roke.
He glances at me first and shrugs a silent apology for the extended time he cannot give me.
Roke turns his attention to Shade. “On your knees, Ilkanari.” He motions emphatically with one hand.
Shade slowly bends towards the ground, his hand creeping along his leg, towards the rim of his boot, and . . .
There is no time to stop him. The blade leaves Shade’s hand the moment he pulls it from the inside lining of his boot. It strikes Roke clear through the heart. The Ebonian stumbles for a moment, his eyes wide behind his mask, before falling to the ground in a crumpled heap. His hand remains on the blade, struggling to pull it from his chest. When his hand slows and, finally, drops away I suck in a sharp breath.
Roke’s soldiers rush to his body, attempting to restore the life to his lungs, but to no avail.
The loyal Ebonian is dead.
The soldiers let out enraged, raspy cries of protest and hate. Drawing their blades, they launch themselves at Shade, revenge sparkling in their eyes.
Ostracized (The Ostracized Saga Book 1) Page 65
