Reign of Shadows

by Sophie Jordan

  “I imagine it impairs their hearing,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around my knees and drawing them up to my chest, resisting leaning to my right where his warm body pressed into mine.

  “Does it impair yours?” It was a simple question, yet it felt intimate squashed together as we were. I wondered what it would feel like if his body relaxed—if he didn’t hold himself so rigidly beside me. What would it feel like if he were to turn and fold me into his arms.

  My face grew hot. “I suppose it might.”

  “We’ll wait. Make certain they’re gone and then push on for as long as the rain lasts.”

  I nodded. He was always so sensible.

  “How long will it take to reach the isle?”

  Silence stretched over the pattering rain. I was beginning to think he would not reply, but then he said, “By my calculation, three to four months.”

  A few months of me talking to his back. Months of us being together but not together.

  My chest pinched considering it. I might have been trapped in the tower for the extent of my life, but I’d never been alone. I always had someone.

  Now I had no one.

  We stayed half an hour longer in the tree before climbing down, and then we tromped through the rain, moving as quickly as we could in the dragging mud, taking advantage of the sudden downpour.

  I trailed behind Fowler, listening to his near-silent tread, following in his steps, gauging the shape and direction of Fowler in front of me as the air passed around him.

  We walked until I was well past the point of exhaustion, until I could no longer feel my nose on my face. I pressed my lips into a mutinous line, determined not to complain.

  “This way,” he directed as though I could see him.

  I followed him up a steep, rocky incline.

  Suddenly I was out of the rain, my boots no longer squishing over sodden earth. I rotated in a small circle, wringing the water from the thick plait of hair that hung over my shoulder. “There is no wind in here.”

  “It’s a cave. Sit down. Rest.”

  “Should we not push on through this rain?”

  “You’re dead on your feet. You need to rest—”

  “I’m not wearied. I can continue—”

  “Stand down. I am wearied, too. Does that make any difference to you?” I sniffed in response, mollified at least that he admitted this.

  “We covered a great deal of ground,” he continued. “This is an ideal shelter and we should take advantage of it.”

  I nodded, relenting. I listened as he dropped his pack. Following that, he divested himself of his garments, slapping them on the nearby rock.

  My cheeks burned, thinking that he was naked—or nearly so.

  “You should spread your clothes out to dry.”

  “I’m not undressing in front of you.”

  “You’ll catch an ague, and that should do us no favors. Besides,” he added, “we will be in close proximity for months. Am I never to see you in an indelicate state? That’s not very realistic thinking of you. If you want, you’re welcome to go deeper into the cave.”

  I turned, facing the chasm. The damp air felt colder in that direction and my flesh broke out in goose bumps. Who knew what lurked in there?

  “Come, I’ll turn my back.”

  Still, I hesitated.

  “We’re going to be together for a long time,” he reminded me. “You can’t trust me?”

  He was right, of course. There had to be trust between us. I shrugged out of my jacket and draped it on the ground. Hopefully it would be dry before I donned it again. My fingers moved to the ties at the neck of my tunic, hesitating. I felt his stare. “Don’t look at me,” I growled

  He chuckled and the sound made my skin turn to gooseflesh. But I heard the whisper of air as he turned around. More important, I no longer felt the hot crawl of his eyes over me.

  With shaking fingers, I undid the ties and pulled the tunic over my head. Next came my trousers. I spread both articles out to dry and stood only in my thin shift, shivering still, but not nearly as cold as before.

  I felt a whisper of movement and stilled. “Are you peeking?”

  “Tempting as I find drowned little wrens, no. I’m not spying on you.”

  Face burning, I crouched and dug inside my pack to find my bedroll, still mostly dry. I stretched out on my cot and pulled the blanket over myself.

  Keeping the blanket over me, I pulled my shift over my head. The cool air of the cave dried my damp skin. Naked, I tucked the blanket all around me, exposing no part of me.

  “You may turn around.”

  His tread sounded near me. “Comfortable?”

  I nodded.

  “Sleep. I’ll take the first watch.”

  “What of you? Will you wake me—”

  “Don’t concern yourself,” he instructed as he settled his back against a nearby tree.

  It hadn’t been precisely the answer I was seeking. It was an assurance, however, and even though I told myself I should be careful not to place my utter and complete trust in him, I dozed off.

  I woke with a start, sensing hours had passed. I rubbed at my cheek, feeling disoriented. He had let me sleep. The rain had stopped. There was a freshness to the air, as though the rain had washed the world clean. Impossible, I knew, but I allowed myself to enjoy the scent for a moment.

  Clutching the blanket to my chest, I strained my ears for evidence of Fowler. I heard nothing. There was no sign of him. Perhaps he had not left me to sleep. Perhaps he had just left me.

  For a moment, the possibility went down my throat in a bitter swallow. I sat up, lifting my head off my pack, which I had used as a pillow, pebbles and bits of rock sticking to my palms as I pushed myself up. Cool air wafted over my bare skin and I recalled that my clothes were spread all around me, drying.

  I brushed my hands off on my blanket. A bigger rock slid and rolled somewhere to my left. A booted foot scratched against the cave floor and I turned in that direction.

  “Afraid I left you?”

  I breathed a little easier, relieved at his return. “I suppose I should wonder at that. You haven’t made any effort to hide just how much you resent my company.”

  “I gave my word.”

  “That’s right. Your word.” As though that should mean something to me. It had been enough for Sivo, but then in Sivo’s mind there had not been much of an alternative.

  “Let’s move. You can eat as we walk.”

  “Could you turn around so that I can dress myself, please?”

  He gave a snort, but obliged. I dressed quickly. My clothes were mostly dry and I knew I must have slept a long while.

  I put away my bedding and then fished from my pack the last of Perla’s flaky biscuits. Setting off after him, I chewed slowly, wanting this last tangible item from Perla to last. I would never have another one. I swiftly pushed away the stab of pain that thought triggered.

  I wasn’t certain if Fowler had slept at all. His voice sounded rusty with weariness. “Did you stand watch all night?” I asked.

  He ignored the question.

  “Fowler?” I pressed.

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “Oh. You needn’t sleep like the rest of us? Is that it?”

  “I can look after myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”

  “I see. I’m not to express concern for your well-being, but if you should collapse, I shouldn’t worry?” We were in this together and I wanted him to admit it. Perhaps then I wouldn’t feel so alone beside him.

  He grunted, the only acknowledgment that I might have made a valid point.

  “Then I do have a stake in your well-being, after all.”

  “Very well. I’ll abide your opinions.”

  At that, I laughed softly. “Good to know considering that we will be travel companions for the next several months.”

  “This goes both ways, you know. You must endure my opinions, too.”

  “Indeed. Have you any opinions?�
� I struggled to lift my legs high out of the bog-like ground. “You of so few words?”

  “I do.”

  “Feel free to share.”

  He stopped and faced me, his voice biting. “You fail to realize the dangerous nature of our journey.”

  “I’m perfectly aware of the dangers.”

  “And yet you insist on trying to make conversation and interacting with me as though you wish to be my friend.”

  He uttered “friend” as though it were a dirty word.

  I exhaled a breath, heat crawling up my neck because he sensed that need in me and he viewed it as a weakness. “What’s wrong with being friends? We will be together for a long time—”

  “We are not friends. I had friends once. Family. They are all dead.”

  I swallowed against the lump in my throat. “And you haven’t the desire for any more?”

  “I haven’t anything in me at all. No room for anyone. Including you.”

  His words struck like one of his well-aimed arrows. I forced my hands to remain at my sides even though I wanted to rub at my chest where I felt the sting the greatest, directly over my heart.

  “I understand.” Nodding, I strode ahead of him.

  He stayed behind me for a short time before eventually reclaiming the lead.

  The chirp of bats drifted overhead, moving as one in a great cloud. I froze and listened. I knew we were too large a target for them. They were hunting smaller prey—rabbits and rodents. I still didn’t relish a run-in with the creatures. I shivered at the sound of them, their leathery wings flapping on the wind, their heavy weight as they landed on the brittle, creaking limbs of nearby trees.

  Fowler stopped beside me. “Don’t worry. They don’t attack humans. If we leave them alone, they’ll ignore us.”

  That’s what Sivo always said, too, but it didn’t cure my apprehension. I waited a moment longer, listening to their flapping wings fade in the distance.

  We traveled steadily thereafter, hearing no more bats. Sometimes we heard dwellers in the distance, their eerie cries bouncing through the forest. I’d hold my breath as we quickened our steps, skirting them, but I knew it wouldn’t always be like that. We had a long way to go and sometimes we were going to have to fight them.

  “How much longer until we leave the Black Woods?”

  “Another day or two.”

  I was almost surprised he answered me. During the last few hours, I had settled into tense silence, thinking over our exchange. We’d never be friends. Clearly, barely tolerated traveling companions were all we would ever be. If Sivo had not extracted a promise from him to take me to Allu, I’m certain he would have abandoned me by now.

  “I need to stop,” I announced after a while.

  “Soon. Keep going for now.” He kept walking, not bothering to explain why, not bothering to ask why I wanted to stop.

  With a huff of frustration, I turned and headed in another direction.

  It didn’t take him long to realize I wasn’t following. I suppose he was paying some attention to me after all.

  “Wait. Where are you going?” His feet sounded after me, quick thuds on the earth, but I didn’t stop. My chest burned prickly hot. I wasn’t stopping. I wasn’t going to turn around and let him see the weak emotion that made me want to drop my pack, curl up into a ball, and bury my face in my arms and weep.

  I’d only ever wanted to leave the tower despite the dangers. I wanted an adventure. But without Sivo and Perla, I felt achingly alone—a fact that didn’t improve with him declaring that we couldn’t be friends.

  His hand clamped on my shoulder, and I spun around, pulling away. “I told you I needed to stop.”

  “We won’t cover any ground if you need to rest every—”

  “Oh, how often have I asked to rest?” I demanded, my temper rising. “I need to relieve myself. Do you mind? Can I have a moment’s privacy?”

  He didn’t say anything and I forced myself to face him, hoping he didn’t see any hint of the vulnerability I felt in my expression. I felt his stare as potent as Perla’s mulled cider, a heady thing crawling over my face, seeing everything, missing nothing.

  Deciding the silence had stretched long enough, I stomped off to where the wind felt the thinnest, the air circulating less within the dense thicket. Plenty of cover from his gaze.

  Not that he would spy on me. A boy that didn’t want to talk to me or be my friend certainly wouldn’t be interested in spying on me as I went about my business.

  Strangely, that offered little comfort.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  ..................................................................

  “DO YOU HEAR that?” Luna’s voice rippled over the chilled stillness, a current swimming in the breathing dark. Her question was the first time she had spoken to me in hours and only a thin thread of sound.

  I froze in place and listened, already knowing to trust her ears over my own.

  There was nothing at first, simply the rush of blood in my ears and a solitary bat chirping in the far distance. Then I heard it. Them. A low, intermittent rumble of voices, ebbing and increasing and then disappearing altogether.

  “They’re . . . people.” Her voice shook a little and I knew that she would have been less nervous had they been dwellers.

  I peered into the dark. There were no torches. No flickering fire through the trees. But we were headed straight for them. Or they were headed in our direction. Either way, everything inside me tensed.

  I squinted into the opaque air. We could try to skirt them, give them a wide berth, but there was always the possibility that they had their own scouts ferreting the perimeter of their group. Especially if they were soldiers. That was common protocol.

  Normally, I would investigate to verify who—or what—was out there. Constant awareness is what kept me alive this long, but I wasn’t functioning under normal circumstances anymore. I had Luna to consider.

  “Maybe they’re friendly,” she offered, breaking into the quiet of my thoughts.

  I shook my head, tension knotting my shoulders as I stared ahead into the cold ink of dark. A quick glance upward revealed the thick tangle of branches obscuring the moon’s glow. That was being hopeful. She didn’t fully understand. Aside from soldiers, she thought the dwellers were the worst thing out here. She thought everyone else was like us, survivors banding together for a like purpose—to further our existence. She would understand in time.

  “Stay here,” I commanded, unloading my pack and adjusting the quiver at my back.

  Her shoulders squared, and that rounded little chin of hers went up. I could tell she wanted to argue. Or simply ignore my instructions and follow me. Just like the boy, Donnan. An ugly feeling swept through me at that reminder, and my movements became more jerky.

  “I’m going with you—”

  “No. I’m not Sivo or Perla for you to twist and manipulate. Out here, I’m in charge.” The hard fall of my words made her back away, stopping only when she collided with a tree.

  I sighed. “If you stay here, you’ll be safe,” I said, my voice softer. I stared down at my hands a long moment before looking back up at her. Skepticism was writ all over her features.

  “I’ll move faster knowing you are here waiting safely.” It irritated me that I felt the need to prove myself sincere.

  She brought her arms up to hug herself. “Are you coming back?” Doubt tinged her voice. “Tell me the truth.”

  I told myself distrust was normal. Good even. I blew out a breath and squeezed my eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. The slightest quiver to her bottom lip revealed she wasn’t as unaffected as she pretended to be leaning there against the tree.

  I gestured to my pack as though she could see it there in the dirt by her feet. “I’m leaving my supplies.”

  She nodded stiffly, but didn’t appear to fully accept my explanation as proof enough that I would be coming back.
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br />   I started to leave, walked several feet, but the image of her face—the big dark eyes—burned an imprint onto my mind. I knew that visual would follow me, and I didn’t need that. Not when I needed a clear head.

  With a muffled curse, I whipped back around. She was scared and not totally convinced I would be returning for her. What if I was gone longer than she expected and she took it into her head to leave?

  Several strides put me back in front of her. My heart thumped hard in my chest. Even though she was taller than a good many women, I still looked down at her.

  Resolve fueled me. I reached for her, taking her face firmly in both my hands, fixing her unseeing stare on me. She jumped a little at the contact but didn’t pull away.

  This close, the freckles spattering her nose and cheeks were clearly visible—a collection of brown dots of varying sizes, all several shades lighter than her dark hair.

  Trapped in my hands, staring sightlessly up, she seemed so vulnerable. A single budding lily in a world of night. One clap of my hands and she would be crushed, her light snuffed out.

  “I will not abandon you, Luna.” It was the reassurance she had asked for before, but I had been unable to say the words then. “Ever,” I added.

  It didn’t mean she would never get hurt. It didn’t mean either one of us would make it, but if something happened to her it would not be because I had failed her. I would never do that. Not again.

  Her lips parted in the slightest gasp. She blinked, looking as startled as I felt at my avowal.

  “Do you understand?” I slipped my fingers deeper into her hair, cradling the back of her skull. “You believe me?”

  Her shock at my promise was palpable.

  And there was my own awareness of her slighter body so close to mine. Her fragrance filled my nose. I felt alive for the first time in a long time. My skin prickled and pulled tight, sensitive even to the slightest gust of air. There was no part of me that didn’t feel.

  If she touched me, I might come apart. My stomach pitched and turned, hoping she did. Hoping she didn’t.

  She was a girl who somehow managed to smell good and fresh in a world of stinking rot. It was not a situation I would have chosen for myself, but here I was.