by Jayne Castel
Asher handed out food and skins of water, and the three of them slaked their thirst before falling upon their meals. Fear had driven all thought of thirst and hunger from Asher, yet now that the immediate threat to his life had passed, his throat felt like a strip of dry leather.
None of them spoke while they ate, although a tension had settled between them. Mira’s expression was shuttered, and she kept darting glances at her companions. Eventually, when she had finished her bread and cheese, and dusted the crumbs off her leggings, she spoke.
“When were the two of you going to tell me?”
Ninia tensed. “It was my secret to keep … I didn’t think he knew.”
Both their gazes settled upon Asher then.
“How long have you known?” Mira demanded.
Asher met her eye. This was the moment he’d been dreading. Did he feed her another lie or tell the truth?
The truth would make Mira hate him, but she deserved to know—they both did.
“I’ve known from the beginning,” he said quietly. “That’s why the head of my order sent me.”
Neither woman answered. However, the look on their faces told him he’d better tell this quickly. He’d started the boulder hurtling down the slope; there wasn’t any point in trying to stop it now.
“She sent me to kill you … both.”
Another silence fell. The look on Mira’s face could have frozen a forge. A heaviness settled over Asher then. Mira wasn’t the type to trust easily, and he wagered she wasn’t quick to forgive either.
The bond that had forged between them had been as fragile as it had been powerful. Mira had been on the cusp of letting her guard down, of trusting him, but with just a few words that bond had shattered.
Ninia’s face wasn’t any friendlier than her guardian’s. “Why am I still alive then?”
“Because I couldn’t do it.”
“Why?” Ninia pressed, her voice hard and flat.
“Because I don’t believe your gift should be feared. I don’t believe we should destroy what we don’t understand.”
“Noble words.” The sarcasm in Mira’s voice was cutting. “But you were planning to take us back to your order all the same. What would they do to her?”
Asher glanced back at Mira. This was going worse than he’d feared. He’d be lucky if she ever spoke to him again after today. Anger had given Mira back her hard shell.
“Answer me,” Mira snarled. “Let’s have some truth out of you at last.”
“The High Enchanter would want her contained, dealt with,” he admitted, “but I wouldn’t let that happen.” His attention swung back to Ninia. “I’d protect you with my life, and I’m not the only one. You have friends among the order.”
Ninia held his gaze, although her expression didn’t soften. “You didn’t have the stomach to end me … so you thought you’d let the High Enchanter do it.”
He shook his head. “No,” he rasped. “Listen to me, Ninia. I’m trying to help you.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me you knew who I really was?”
“I didn’t want to scare you.”
Her lip curled.
“Believe me, Ninia … I’d break from the order rather than hurt you. I swear it.”
Ninia and Asher stared at each other for a long moment, and the princess’s face finally softened. Ninia wasn’t like Mira—she had an open heart and was quick to forgive.
“Do you believe me?” He hated the sound of his voice: broken, pleading.
Holding Asher’s gaze she let a long sigh escape. “Yes … I do.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Mira’s growl intruded. “He’s a liar. He doesn’t care about your wellbeing, only his own.”
“Are you so different?” The hardness in Ninia’s voice came as a surprise to Asher. He tore his gaze from Mira to see the princess was watching her guardian, her eyes flinty.
Mira stared back, clearly affronted by the question. “Of course I am.”
“No, you’re not,” Ninia countered. “You promised my mother you’d protect me, but ever since we left Veldoras you’ve thought of nothing but escape.”
Mira’s face flushed. “That’s not the same thing … at least I’d never betray you.”
“I’m not the fool you think I am,” Ninia replied. “I know what happened that first night in The West Wolds. I know Asher stopped you from escaping.”
Mira’s face pinched at that, yet Ninia had succeeded in silencing her. Asher said nothing. Ninia had impressed him though. They’d all—him included—underestimated her.
It was still dark when they reached the western edge of The Forest of the Fallen. Dawn had not yet crept over the top of the trees behind them, although the moon had set and only starlight illuminated the gently rounded hills before them.
Mira stepped beyond the trees and craned her neck up at the clear night sky. It was a relief to be out in the open again. Yet after a long night hiking through the forest, flanked on all sides by shadow creatures, she felt suffocated and on-edge.
Mira had walked apart from her companions. She said little to Ninia and didn’t speak to Asher at all.
Fury still burned in the pit of her belly, glowing embers waiting to reignite when she was ready. She nursed her anger like a bruise, savoring it. The emotion was easier to manage than the aching sense of hurt, loss, and betrayal that lurked just beneath.
Darg had accompanied them to the forest edge, as Ninia’s new protector.
Mira hung back. She had no wish to walk near that thing. The proximity of the other shadow creatures—the loping Nightgengas, stalking Fen Hounds, and scampering Dusk Imps—stretched her nerves taut. Asher walked a few yards behind her, similarly surrounded by his escort.
Mira didn’t look back at Asher or acknowledge him for the entire journey. The sight of him galled her. Her hands fisted. If Asher knew what was good for him, he’d stay away from her from now on.
At the forest edge, the crowd of shadow creatures hung back, letting the three companions walk forth. Mira strode away from the trees, her spine tingling at the feel of the creatures’ gazes trailing her. However, she stopped when she realized that Ninia had hung back, letting her and Asher go on ahead.
Mira turned, her gaze swiveling to the tree-line, where the princess and the Thracken lord stood. She heard the murmur of Ninia’s voice, and the whisper of Darg’s, but could not make out the words.
Beside her, she was aware that Asher too had stopped, and was looking back at the forest. Mira ignored him, deliberately keeping her gaze upon Ninia and Darg. She didn’t like the way the pair of them huddled together as they talked.
Eventually, Ninia and her protector concluded their conversation and the princess walked away from the Thracken without a backward glance.
“What was that about?” Mira asked as Ninia drew near.
“Nothing,” Ninia replied, her tone neutral. “Darg was just wishing me well.”
Mira snorted, making it clear she didn’t believe her.
However, Ninia didn’t appear to care. “Come on,” she said, moving past them and continuing up the grassy slope. “Darg tells me Aldeport lies barely more than half a league west. If we hurry, we can make it for breakfast.”
Mira watched Ninia go, irritation surging. She’d nearly had enough of both her companions. Asher moved past her and followed Ninia up the hill, letting Mira bring up the rear.
Mira hung back, allowing them to go on ahead. Part of her wanted to turn and run, to rid herself of them both. It was only the memory of what Ninia had said to her earlier that held her back. The girl had known right from the start that Mira had wanted to leave her.
I’m not the fool you think I am.
Shame had filtered over Mira in that hall when Ninia said those words. She wanted to prove her wrong. Hadn’t she stayed anyway? Asher couldn’t have stopped her, not if she’d really wanted to leave.
Wishing she had never met either of her companions, Mira followed them up the slope.
/> The sun rose as they walked, and once they crested the first row of hills, Mira caught sight of The Cruel Sea in the distance. An orb of gold and red was rising over the edge of it, setting fire to the sky. It was the most beautiful sunrise she had ever witnessed, yet Mira felt hollow inside.
A shriek sliced the air overhead, and she glanced up to see Grim had joined them. The white hawk glided in circles. Ahead, Asher craned his head to look up at the bird. He stretched out an arm and Grim swooped down, landing upon it.
The hills to the west gradually flattened to wide meadows that ran down to the sea. And finally, in the distance, they spied Aldeport. Huddled before wide tilled fields, low stone and wood cottages welcomed them. Cottars were up already, smoke rising from the turf roofs of their hovels. Some had emerged into the chill morning, hoes and rakes in hand to begin work in the fields.
Beyond the outskirts of Aldeport, the buildings rose to two and three storied dwellings, and the streets turned from dirt to cobbles. The streets of the port radiated out like the spokes of a wheel, all converging on a great square before the port itself. A gentle slope led down to it, and the three of them wandered down to where the daily market had just begun beneath the shadow of an Altar of Umbra.
The sight of the towering, black pillar, which reflected the glow of the spectacular sunrise, reminded Mira of how close they’d all come to never leaving that forest. It was also an eerie reminder of the link Ninia now had with the servants of the shadows.
They hailed her as their queen … that can’t mean anything good.
She’d been in awe of Ninia’s abilities before, but now that she’d learned she could gather both the Light and the Dark, she was also a little afraid of her.
This realization irritated Mira. She didn’t like what she’d learned about herself on this journey. Indecisive. Gullible. Fearful. Recent events had held up a mirror to her, and she didn’t like what she’d seen there.
32
Clearing the Air
NINIA TOOK A bite of the pasty and sighed. “Shadows … this is good.”
Mira glanced across at the princess. The three of them stood on the edge of the square, a few feet from a pie stall.
Suddenly, the oath all folk of The Four Kingdoms swore at times, took on a new meaning. Whether people liked it or not, the shadows had been part of their lives for centuries—and Ninia was now Queen of the Shadows. They had called her ‘mistress’. The Lord of the Thracken had even knelt before her.
The memory sent a finger of ice down Mira’s spine. Her feelings must have shown on her face, for Ninia stopped chewing and frowned. “What?”
“Nothing.”
That was a lie. Mira’s belly felt tied in knots, her skin felt too tight, and she churned with the urge to blacken the eye of the man who stood a few paces to her right.
Ninia watched her, the crease between her eyebrows deepening. Then her gaze shifted to Asher. The enchanter had barely spoken since they’d left the Dim Hold. Mira forced herself to look at him now. His face reminded her of the first day they’d met: an aloof, arrogantly handsome mask.
Mira’s gut clenched. She hated him.
“Ninia …” Asher was holding a pasty, but had not yet taken a bite. “Back in the Dim Hold … how did you know what the King of Anthor was planning?”
The girl’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “I didn’t.”
Asher’s gaze widened.
“I made it all up,” Ninia continued. “Although judging from the look on the prince’s face, I hit the mark. We now know Anthor plans to attack Rithmar in the spring.”
Asher watched her, his gaze narrowing. “You saved his life … twice. I wonder if he’s grateful to you for it.”
“Probably not … but it doesn’t matter.” Ninia shrugged. “I don’t want his gratitude.”
A silence fell between them then, heavy with things unsaid. After a long pause, the princess broke it. “Once we finish eating, we need to talk … to clear the air.”
Mira’s fingers tightened around the pasty, her fingertips breaking through the pastry into the scalding filling of meat and vegetables beneath. It scorched her skin, yet she ignored it.
I don’t want to talk.
Nonetheless, shortly after they had eaten, the three of them found themselves in a dockside tavern, hands curled around cups of mulled cider. They sat in a dark corner of the tavern, in a private booth where the other customers would have trouble overhearing them.
Mira sat next to Ninia, as far as possible from Asher, who had one side of the booth to himself. When neither the enchanter nor her guardian started the conversation, Ninia took the initiative.
“I want you to know that I’m grateful to you both,” she said, her gaze flicking from Mira to Asher. “You risked your lives for me. Whatever mistakes you’ve made … neither of you have wronged me.”
Mira fought a sneer. That man who sat opposite them was an assassin. Ninia had a short memory.
Not put off by her companions’ silence, Ninia continued. “We do whatever it takes to survive … I know that. The Dim Hold stripped all of us bare. I too saw parts of myself I’d rather not.”
“How long have you known you could wield the Light and the Dark?” Mira spoke up. She virtually growled the question, for she was finding it difficult to remain civil, what with Asher sitting there.
“For the last year … no more,” Ninia replied. “Mother made me swear to keep it secret. I didn’t know she’d sent word to Rithmar, to the High Enchanter.”
“She made a mistake,” Mira said bitterly.
“No, she didn’t,” Ninia countered. “She sent Asher to find us … she could have sent someone else, someone without a conscience.”
Mira who had been taking a sip of ale, choked. “A conscience? You think he has one?”
She knew Asher was watching her, and his silence was infuriating. She wanted him to argue with her. She wanted him to say something that would give her an excuse to lash out at him physically. Yet he did not.
His muteness enraged her.
“Enough,” Ninia snapped. “I know you’re angry, and I understand why … but I need your help.” Her gaze flicked across to Asher. “I need you both.”
Silence settled over the booth. Mira watched as the girl took a tentative sip of ale, wrinkling her nose at the taste. For all her recent maturity, there were some things that still made Ninia seem young.
“I’m listening,” Asher spoke up for the first time.
Ninia’s gaze met his. “Can you take me to The Royal City of Rithmar?”
“Shadows, why?” Mira interrupted. “You know what the High Enchanter plans to—”
“I do,” Ninia cut her off. “But all I’ve wanted, since learning who I am, is to become an enchanter.”
“They won’t allow that,” Mira said bitterly. “You heard the Thracken lord. They believe you to be a threat … another Valgarth. They’ll never take you in. The High Enchanter will kill you on sight.”
Ninia shook her head, her face setting in stubborn lines. “She won’t … not if she meets me. Asher changed his mind, so will the High Enchanter.”
Across the table, Asher frowned. “Irana isn’t like me,” he murmured. “She may take some convincing. I can't promise that she won't try to kill you.”
Mira leaned forward, glaring at Asher, daring him to meet her eye. “If that’s the case, why were you planning to take us there?”
For a moment the pair of them locked gazes.
“I never planned that, Mira,” he replied. “I never thought further ahead than getting through the forest and finding a way to Aldeport. Once we were safe, I intended to speak honestly with you both … but events took that decision out of my hands.”
His attention shifted to Ninia. Watching him, Mira noticed the tension in his broad shoulders, the way his fingers gripped his cup of ale. “I agree with Mira … The Royal City isn’t a safe haven for you. You’d be safer in Farras, where no one knows who, and what, you are.”
<
br /> Ninia’s expression hardened. “I’m not ashamed of my gift. I won’t hide away like a fugitive. The order is its strongest in Rithmar … that’s where I need to train.”
Asher let out a long breath. “Alright then, if that’s where you want to go, I’ll accompany you.” He paused then. “You just need to be ready for the possibility that Irana might turn on you.”
Ninia nodded. “I'm aware of that.”
The princess then turned her attention back to Mira. “Come with us. “I couldn't have gotten this far without you.”
Mira stared back at Ninia. She was still furious—sweating from the wrath that pulsed through her. She wanted to rage at them both; but most of all she was angry at herself.
If I’d left Ninia at Deeping, I could have avoided all this.
I’d have never met Asher.
I’d have never discovered their lies.
Asher was wrong. She didn’t have a conscience or a sense of duty.
She was afraid.
She feared the unknown. She’d hated her life as a Swallow, but she had felt safe in Veldoras. Running away before the attack had been an easier decision, yet it had taken her years to build up the resolve to do it. Once she and Ninia had fled the city, her role as guardian was all she’d had. She had no purpose in life beyond that.
Who was she without it?
“Why would you want me with you?” she asked, her voice hard and flat, masking the emotions churning within her. “I tried to abandon you.”
Ninia’s expression was solemn as she watched her. “You’re the closest thing I have to a sister.” The girl paused. “I know we’ve not always gotten along … but you're all I have left in this world.”
Mira stared back at her, struggling to draw breath. “I’m not your family, Ninia,” she replied. “I’m your servant.”
Mira stepped inside the small chamber and slammed the door shut behind her. Alone for the first time in many days, she let out a string of gutter curses. Then she locked the door, picked up a water jug from the sideboard, and hurled it across the room. The clay vessel shattered against the wall, its contents running down the white-wash, but it still didn't make her feel better.
