Light and Darkness: The Complete Series: Epic Fantasy Romance

by Jayne Castel

  They ran through the outskirts of Port Needle, up to a narrow staircase that took them to the top of the East Terrace and along a damp alleyway that smelled of mildew. A short while later, breathing hard and their faces glowing with sweat, they emerged onto the High Road.

  Dain let go of her arm, and Lilia halted. She looked back over Port Needle, a cooling breeze fanning her face. The cliffs gave way to rocky headland. Slate and thatched roofs tumbled down the steep hillside, ending at the port. The boats moored there this morning appeared as small as children’s toys from this height. Just beyond them floated the dark bulk of the galleon.

  Shouting reached her, drifting up from the terraces below. Peering down, she could see men fighting upon Harbor Way and the glint of sunlight on steel.

  Lilia glanced over at where Ryana had halted beside her. Like her, the enchanter was staring down at the town.

  “Who are The Shade Brotherhood?” Lilia asked, still out of breath from the climb. She was determined to get an answer this time.

  “A secret order, formed after Valgarth fell,” Ryana replied. “It’s their sole mission to seek out the missing pieces of The King Breaker and free their master from his prison.”

  Lilia’s breathing caught. She suddenly realized just how exposed it was up here. There was little to protect them from view, save a few stunted trees. This side of the island bore the brunt of the prevailing winds. They would be traveling across a bleak, open landscape that made hiding near to impossible.

  “Lilia.” Saul’s voice was sharp behind her. “Come on.”

  Turning, she followed the others, sprinting across the pot-holed road and up the windswept hillside above.

  When they were a furlong distant from the road, they cut west. Smoothly rounded, green hills rolled away to the north. At the top of some of them, Lilia could see the ruins of the stacked stone huts, shaped like beehives, where hermits of old had once lived. In ancient times, those seeking solitude found refuge upon Serran’s western-most outpost.

  Saul led the way at a brisk jog, his leather cloak flapping. Dain, Lilia, and Ryana followed a few steps behind. Lilia hurried to keep up with her companions, only fear of what lay at her back preventing her from insisting they set a slower pace. Her heavy ankle-length skirts hindered her movement. It was not long before her lungs started to feel raw and she felt sick from exerting herself.

  Still, she ran on, torn from a morning of quiet routine into chaos.

  They journeyed west, keeping well back from the High Road. The way ran from the forts of Eastwatch to Westwatch. In single file now, they ran over grassy hills. A gusty wind raced in from the sea, chapping their faces and tugging at their clothing as they traveled.

  Lilia had never journeyed this far west before. Port Needle was the farthest she’d ever ventured from her village. The Isle of Orin was small enough that you could cover one end of the High Road from east to west in a day. Yet the distance seemed enormous to her. After a short while, her thigh muscles ached and her lungs were on fire.

  By the time they reached the northern turn off that took them inland, Lilia was limping from blisters. She’d slowed to a hobbling walk, forcing the others to slow their pace as well. There was no conversation between them, just an uneasy silence that grew tenser as the day progressed. Lilia noted that Saul constantly glanced over his shoulder, his dark gaze scanning the eastern horizon for signs of pursuit.

  The inland route was in poor condition: badly rutted and potholed. Deep green carpeted the hills around them, lush with spring growth. There were few trees, just windswept clumps of heather, brambles, and gorse.

  Leaving the coast behind, they traveled north through a shallow cleft in the hills. More ruins of ancient huts carpeted the hillsides here, their remains scattered as if by a giant’s hand. Sheep and goats grazed among the stones. Their shepherds—men wrapped in rabbit-furs—stood watch nearby.

  The shadows were lengthening when they reached Woody End. A pretty hamlet of stone cottages with straw thatch, it sat on the edge of a glassy mere, with a wood of yew trees at its back. As they walked in past well-tended fields, Lilia spied bluebells carpeting the ground under the mossy trees.

  They stopped briefly in the center of the village to pick up food. Saul and Ryana were the only ones carrying coin so Dain and Lilia refilled water bladders from the well in the market square, while the others bought bread, cheese, and boiled eggs.

  “We should reach Moss Hollow by dusk,” Saul informed them. “The closer we get to Wellwash, the better. The Brotherhood will have widened their search by now.”

  They followed the road out of Woody End, alongside the banks of the still, dark mere and climbed the hill. The air grew cool as dusk settled.

  Darkness was drawing in by the time they reached their destination; it was time to get inside. Long shadows stretched across the soft hills in elongated, spidery fingers. A bloody sunset stained the sky, and a crimson sun slid behind the sea to the west.

  True to its name, Moss Hollow sat in a shallow valley between two mossy hillsides. A brook trickled through the center of it—a cluster of no more than twenty shabby-looking stone cottages.

  They found lodging in the village’s only tavern—a low-slung building of stacked stone with a sod roof. There were few folk staying here, and the elderly man who ran the tavern welcomed them with a gap-toothed grin.

  “A chamber each?”

  “We’ll share one room,” Saul replied, digging into the purse at his waist for coins. “How much?”

  The man’s face fell. “A bronze talent each.”

  “Is it safe to stay here?” Dain whispered to Saul as they took a seat in the corner of the common room.

  “Safer than camping out in the darkness with Nightgengas and Hiriel,” Saul replied. “As long as we move on at dawn we should keep ahead of The Brotherhood.”

  They ate a simple supper of mutton stew in the tavern’s common room—a smoky space lined with wooden booths and with a large hearth up one end. For a while none of them spoke, the sound of their wooden spoons scraping against clay bowls the only noise at the table. Apart from two men playing at dice on the other side of the room, they were the only patrons that evening.

  Ryana was the first to break the uncomfortable silence. She stared at Saul as he mopped up the last of his stew with a hunk of coarse bread, her gaze boring into him until he eventually looked up and met her eye.

  “How did you find this piece of The King Breaker?” she demanded.

  Saul snorted. “How is it that an Enchanter of the Dark is living on this rock?”

  Ryana’s brow furrowed. “I’ll answer your question later … if you answer mine.”

  Saul lifted his tankard of ale to his lips and took a long draft. “My father sent me to fetch it,” he replied after a pause. “From the Gordi Isles.” When no one at the table commented on this, Saul continued. “A few months ago, a traveler came to our city. The man was a mercenary who had tired of killing and had lived among the monks of the Gordi Isles for a while. He discovered they kept a powerful secret. He then sold the information to my father.”

  “Does your father want to release The Shadow King?” Lilia asked, horrified at the thought anyone would do such a thing.

  Saul shook his head. “He wants the stone merely as a trophy … to own a piece of the talisman that locked away Valgarth is prestigious indeed.”

  Ryana made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. “You expect us to believe that?”

  Saul cast Ryana an irritated look. “He does feel it would aid him in his campaigns to the north,” he admitted. “Owning half The King Breaker could make his enemies more … biddable.”

  “Months ago, you told me the conflict between Anthor and Thûn was little more than a ‘border skirmish’?” Lilia pointed out with a frown.

  Saul’s mouth curved. “I might have played the situation down a little that evening. It suited me to do so.”

  “Your father is playing with things he knows nothing abou
t,” Ryana growled. Lilia noticed that the woman’s face had drained of color and a muscle ticked in her jaw.

  Saul watched her, smirking. “And you do?”

  “Enough to know that The King Breaker was forged for a specific purpose. Your father is a fool if he thinks that he can use it to threaten his enemies.”

  Saul laughed, although there was little humor in it. “The King of Anthor is no fool, enchanter. As others have discovered to their cost.”

  “And The Brotherhood?” Dain spoke up. He was toying with the remains of his stew, his face more serious than Lilia had seen it. “How did they know you have the stone?”

  Saul’s mouth compressed. “The mercenary probably got greedy. I’d say he didn’t just sell his secret to my father. I arrived at the monastery just before The Brotherhood did and barely escaped with the prize.”

  Ryana leaned across the table then, her attention upon Lilia. “We can’t let them have it. We need to take the stone to the Royal City of Rithmar, to my Order.”

  Saul’s face turned hard. “The stone belongs to my father … I’m taking it back to Mirrar Rock.”

  “The stone belongs with those who’ll protect it,” Ryana shot back.

  “It’ll be safe in Anthor.”

  “Not in the hands of a warmonger, it won’t.”

  Saul leaned back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ve answered your question, enchanter,” he drawled. “Now answer mine. What are you doing living here, pretending you’re someone you aren’t?”

  11

  In Exile

  RYANA DREW IN a deep breath, a nerve flickering in her cheek. She picked up her cup and downed the contents in one gulp. “I’m in exile,” she replied finally.

  Silence followed this statement, broken only by the grumbling of the men playing dice on the opposite side of the common room.

  Eventually, Dain spoke up. “Why?”

  Ryana huffed out a sigh, clearly reluctant to say more. She avoided eye contact with her companions, her gaze focusing on the wooden table between them. “Ten years ago, I did something I shouldn’t have. I’ve been in hiding ever since.”

  “And what did you do?” Saul pressed, his gaze suddenly gleaming.

  Ryana reached for the jug of ale between them and refilled her cup, taking a long draft. She then glanced up, meeting Lilia’s eye rather than Saul’s. “Weren’t you surprised that I recognized the stone around your neck?” she asked.

  Lilia frowned. “I suppose so.” Frankly, there had been so many revelations over the past few hours she’d nearly forgotten that one.

  “I’ve seen its other half.” Ryana ran a hand over her face. When she removed it, Lilia saw her eyes were haunted. “I couldn’t believe it. I came all this way, buried the past deep … and still it finds me.”

  Lilia stared at her, uncomprehending, before she flicked a look in Dain’s direction. He was watching Ryana in bemusement.

  “Speak plainly, enchanter,” Saul growled. He wore an irritated expression, his dark gaze hooded. “Shadows, just spit it out.”

  Ryana favored him with a bitter smile. “I stole the other half of that stone you gave Lilia … and gave it to the enemy.”

  Saul’s gaze widened. “The Shade Brotherhood.”

  The enchanter nodded slowly.

  A shocked silence fell across the table. Ryana raked her hands through her hair. Her tall, athletic frame vibrated with tension. Her gaze shifted around the table; her eyes were wild, desperate. “You might as well hear this tale from the beginning,” she rasped. “Just don’t ask me to repeat it.”

  None of her companions spoke, all three waiting for her.

  Ryana inhaled deeply, gaze averted, before beginning. “When I belonged to the Order, I sometimes used to feel stifled. A couple of evenings a week I’d sing in taverns for coin. That’s where I met Gael. He was older than me, a musician who played the harp while I sang … it wasn’t long before we became lovers.” Ryana paused here, her expression pained. “He used to ask me questions about my life in the Order … about the other enchanters, and I answered them. Then one day I foolishly revealed to him that we’d had an incredible find. Under the ruins of a temple to the old gods in Fellmere, one of our Order had found an iron box … and in it one half of an artifact thought lost forever.”

  Across the table, Saul’s gaze widened. “The first half of The King Breaker?”

  Ryana nodded. She then covered her face with her hands, her voice muffled as she continued. “I was an idiot to confide in him. In reality I didn’t know Gael at all. I had no idea he was an enchanter. He cast a charm over me that night and sent me back to the House to steal the stone.” Ryana lowered her hands, her gaze now unfocused. “I did his bidding … I had no choice for he’d bound my will to his. I stole down to the Vault and killed the enchanter who guarded the stone. I brought it back to Gael, and he tied me up in the room we shared before disappearing into the night. In the morning, the charm faded … yet I knew what I’d done … and I fled the capital before the Order came for me.”

  Lilia slowly released the breath she’d been holding. “Why didn’t you go to them and explain it wasn’t your fault?”

  Ryana’s gaze turned steely, and her face hardened. “It was my fault. I told a man I barely knew a powerful secret … for that alone they’d have punished me. Worse still, Gael was a member of The Shade Brotherhood. I’d handed part of The King Breaker to a dark enchanter in league with those wishing to free The Shadow King.”

  “Didn’t they search for you?” Dain asked. “Surely they did, since you stole something so valuable?”

  Ryana’s mouth twisted. “They hunted for me, and I led them on a tortuous path, before I cloaked my steps and hid myself on this isle.”

  Another hush fell. Saul broke it. “What a tale,” he drawled, before his lip curled. “Thank you, Ryana … you’ve made it clear why Lilia shouldn’t trust you. The stone will definitely be safer in Anthor than in Rithmar.”

  “I’ve learned from my mistakes,” Ryana replied, her face tensing. “I want to help put things right.”

  Saul favored her with a dismissive look. “The stone doesn’t belong to you,” he replied, his gaze shifting to Lilia. “You’re now its bearer. You should decide what happens next.”

  Three sets of eyes rested on Lilia. She sat in the corner beside Dain and felt hemmed in, trapped.

  The way she saw it, she had three choices. The first was to remain on Orin and try to evade capture, nearly impossible on an island this size. The second was to do as Ryana suggested and take the stone to the Order of Light and Darkness in The Royal City. And the third was to let Saul take her with him back to Anthor.

  None of the three remotely appealed. She was terrified of being caught by The Brotherhood, and she didn’t trust Saul. Nor did she trust Ryana. Now she knew the woman’s history, she was wary of her. Saul had a point. Ryana had betrayed her Order once, perhaps she could do so again.

  Yet Lilia’s desire to protect the stone made her weigh up her choices. She couldn’t let it fall into the wrong hands. After a lengthy silence, her gaze swiveled to Ryana. “We take it to Rithmar. The Order of Light and Darkness will know what to do.”

  Ryana nodded, her shoulders visibly sagging in relief, while Saul leaned forward, meeting Lilia’s eye. For the first time since meeting again, she felt a pull of attraction toward him. “Are you sure about this, Lilia?” he asked, his voice low and intimate. “How well do you know this woman?”

  “How well does she know you?” Dain pointed out.

  Saul ignored him as he continued to watch Lilia.

  Lilia shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Dain’s right,” she murmured. “You’ve given me no reason to trust you.”

  Saul held her gaze for a few moments longer. Across the room, one of the dice-players muttered an oath as he pushed a pile of bronze talents across the table to his friend, and the fire popped and sizzled in the hearth.

  “Maybe not yet,” Saul replied wit
h a melting smile, “but that can change.”

  His comment brought another snort from Dain. Saul drew back from Lilia and inclined his head toward the man seated opposite him. “Your part is done,” he said, his tone dismissive. “You should go home tomorrow.”

  Dain met Saul’s eye. His expression was neutral, although his blue eyes hardened. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Dain …” Lilia leaned forward. “Your parents, they’ll be worrying about you. We left without even saying goodbye.”

  Dain shifted his attention to her. The intensity of his gaze made her catch her breath; gone was the teasing, flirtatious young man she’d spent the last few months with at The Grey Anchor. For the first time she saw the other side to him, the side he’d struggled with as an inn-keeper’s son. In that gaze, she caught a glimpse of his strength and a streak of ruthlessness.

  Suddenly, she realized how patronizing her words must have sounded. He wasn’t an untried lad, tied to his mother’s apron strings. He was a man, who’d long been living a life too small for him.

  “My parents will have to cope on their own,” he said, his voice low and firm. “My path leads me elsewhere now. At dawn, I’m going with you.”

  Tension filled the silence that followed. Lilia wrapped her fingers around her cup, her gaze turning inward. She felt ill-equipped for the task that lay ahead. The incident the day before at the pie cart had proved how vulnerable she was. The coming journey would expose her to danger—and a strong jolt of fear or anger would cause her to shift.

  How long would she be able to hide her secret from her companions?

  What will they do to me when they find out?

  Dain cleared his throat, drawing Lilia out of her brooding. “If both pieces of The King Breaker have been found … isn’t that bad news for us all? What if Valgarth is somehow freed?”

  “Valgarth … The Shadow King,” Lilia murmured, remembering the story her grandmother had told around the fireside, passed down from her own mother. “The breaker of Kingdoms, the enslaver of all.”