Shadowcaster

by Cinda Williams Chima

  Lyss dropped to her knees beside him. “Busker,” she said, “this is important. Where did you get this razorleaf?”

  He looked up at her with muddled eyes. Then he shrank back, batting at something invisible. “Get away!”

  Lyss leaned back to avoid his flailing arms. Sasha moved in on his other side, doing her best to pin his arms.

  The busker quieted a bit. His eyes cleared and focused in on Lyss. “I—I didn’t know. Your Highness, you have to believe me. I didn’t know they were going to try and kill you.”

  “I believe you,” Lyss said, gripping his hand. “Now, where did you get the leaf?”

  “Somebody must’ve slid it through the bars last night while I was asleep,” he said. “I woke up and found it. I thought it was . . . a Good Samaritan.”

  He went rigid and began to tremble uncontrollably.

  “He’s having a seizure,” Grace said. “Roll him onto his left side, put a pillow behind him, and make sure he can breathe. You.” She motioned to Sasha. “Keep an eye out. If he vomits, clear it out so it doesn’t go into his lungs. His lips are pink and his nails are, too, so he’s getting air. Hopefully his lungs aren’t too damaged.”

  “Is there any treatment we can give him?”

  “Just support. If he’d swallowed it, we could dilute it with water or use charcoal or force vomiting, but it’s in his bloodstream already.”

  “This is my fault,” Sasha said, her face gray. “I should have known I couldn’t keep this quiet. I should have been more careful. Now somebody’s got to him on my watch.”

  Anger and frustration knifed through Lyss. “What are his odds, Grace?”

  The healer rocked her hand back and forth. “I’d like his chances better if he was healthy. From the looks of things, he’s been using a lot of leaf. If you keep on using, you just burn yourself up. A lower body weight makes any poison more potent.”

  Lyss looked across at Sasha. “Who has access to the cell block?”

  “Just . . . the Queen’s Guard,” Sasha said. “Some in the Highlanders. Nobody from outside.”

  Lyss stood. “We need him alive, and well enough to interview. Clearly, somebody doesn’t want that to happen. I don’t want him to have any visitors without my approval, and no unvetted guards on him. I’m putting the two of you in charge of his care. I want both of you in here around the clock until he recovers.”

  “Me?” Sasha said, looking horrified. “I thought that with you back here, I’d be assigned to—”

  “This is the most important thing you can do right now to keep me safe. If he dies, we’ll lose the one connection we have to whoever ordered the attack.”

  Lyss could hear the boy’s raspy breathing from where she stood. Don’t you dare die on me, busker. If you do, I’ll make a special trip to hunt you in hell.

  36

  BY LAND AND BY SEA

  It had been two weeks since Jenna collected her leatherwork from Sparrow, but she and Cas hadn’t traveled far. They had decided that Fortress Rocks was a good location for flying practice. It was remote enough that they could fly for miles without being seen, and the terrain was variable—craggy mountains and high plateaus and coastline within a few hours as the dragon flies.

  She hesitated to travel too far from the coast until she and Cas got a few things sorted out between them. Like the many differences between people and dragons—their priorities and their physical limits. Cas was high-spirited, headstrong, and growing at what seemed to be an impossible rate.

  The clothing and armor Sparrow had made for her fit well, so now she looked like a real warrior, but that didn’t really make her one. She was woefully short on the kinds of skills she would need to confront Strangward or the empress. She didn’t exactly know what she would be up against, but she had a feeling that a sharp pair of ears, a keen eye, and a layer of scales wouldn’t be enough.

  As a working-class city girl, she’d never had any reason to learn to use a bow, even for hunting. She’d had no practice with a sword. The closest she’d come was when she’d killed Marco with her mother’s jeweled dagger. She was good at setting fire to things and blowing things up on the ground. She guessed she could drop boulders or bombs on an enemy. Still, she felt like the weak link.

  Cas had armor and weapons built in. He seemed to look on Jenna as a small, rather feeble dragon who’d somehow misplaced her wings yet showed no sign of growing a new pair. They practiced incinerating dead trees and sharpening Cas’s aim even when flying at high speed, and flying the zigzag patterns that would allow them to evade enemy fire. Sometimes they played games in the sky, writing words with smoke and flame, because that took precision flying. Sometimes they engaged in mock aerial battles with eagles and hawks.

  The tack Sparrow had made worked spectacularly well, especially considering that the leatherworker had never seen a dragon. Jenna had to make some adjustments to get it to the right size, and then continually refit it to accommodate Cas’s growth. She’d always been good with her hands.

  Flamecaster scarcely seemed to notice the harness and saddle once Jenna strapped it on, but it gave Jenna a lot more confidence when the young dragon got creative with aerobatics. Now she clung to his back like a briar in wool, no matter how many twists and turns he made.

  For now, the best strategy seemed to be avoiding people altogether. The sudden appearance of a dragon in any populated area would end badly for Cas or the people or both. Once they landed, Jenna wouldn’t be much help unless her opponent agreed to hold still long enough to be blown up. She resolved to change that.

  I can’t hide out forever, Jenna thought. Sooner or later I’m going to have to go hunting for bigger game.

  She didn’t know much about foraging, either. Flamecaster brought fresh meat on a regular basis, and Jenna was able to rig up a fishing line and catch a few fish, and she found some mussels in the streams, plus watercress and cattail shoots and frozen cranberries in the marshes. Most everything else was buried in snow, or if it wasn’t, she was afraid to eat it.

  Cas made no secret of his disdain for the vegetables she found (not food; food for food), though he did have a bit of a sweet tooth. But Jenna could gather berries all day and it wouldn’t even be a mouthful for the dragon.

  She wanted to get familiar with the harbors and inlets along the coast, places where a pirate might be found. She’d also promised Cas they would go fishing. So, one morning, they headed for the coast. They left before the sun was even a glow on the horizon, hoping that by the time it was light, they would be far to the north, where, Jenna hoped, it would be less populated and they would be less likely to be seen.

  They soared over snow-covered peaks, then turned straight north toward an inlet called Invaders Bay on the map. The mountains formed a dark wall to their left, and the distant Indio was somewhere out there in the dark to their right.

  The peninsula they were crossing was relatively flat, and snow-covered. Midway across, Jenna could see a large, dark shadow below, moving south toward them.

  “What’s that?” Jenna muttered.

  Herd of fellsdeer? Flamecaster said hopefully. Fat sheep?

  “Not at night,” Jenna muttered. “Let’s go see.”

  As they drew closer, Jenna could see that it was a swarm of riders, pushing hard to cross that flat span of land. Now and then they glittered as the setting moon reflected off the weapons they carried. An army.

  As they flew over the horse troops, Cas stayed high, which was his usual practice when they encountered the rare person on their flights. Hopefully, in a land unfamiliar with dragons, they’d be taken for some sort of large bird.

  Was this the northern Highlander army on the move, riding hard to meet some sort of threat from the south? If so, they weren’t wearing their usual camouflage clothing, the greens and browns of the forest or the white of the winter landscape. Could Arden be moving to retake Delphi or attack Fortress Rocks again? They weren’t wearing the dirtback tan of Arden, either. In fact, their clothing varied
dramatically—so much so that they didn’t look like an army at all. But they moved like an army under orders for a forced march. Could they be a band of mercenaries hired by Arden?

  Were these more of Strangward’s lot—what was it King Gerard had called them—horse savages? Had they come here from Carthis to close the jaws of a trap around her from a different direction?

  It’s not always about you, she told herself. But she needed to know.

  “Cas! Can you go a little lower?” By now, the moon had been swallowed by the clouds shrouding the western peaks, so at least they wouldn’t cast a shadow on the ground. Jenna had to hope that her eyes were sharper than those of the horse warriors.

  Flamecaster came around and crossed the peninsula again, dropping much lower than he usually did so she could take a closer look. Though the riders were bundled up warmly, there was something about their dress and appearance that reminded Jenna of Strangward’s guard—the Stormborn, he’d called them. Then her breath seemed to catch in her throat. They were mages—most of them—mages who displayed an odd, tinted glow like the one she associated with Strangward’s companions. Strangward’s mages had glowed red. The wizards she’d seen in Delphi—the only kind she’d seen until recently—glowed with a blue-white light.

  These glowed purple, like a shadow, or a deep bruise. Almost as if they were sucking up light rather than giving it off.

  Why would they send so many, to hunt one girl? They didn’t know about Cas, did they? Or were they on some other mission?

  Should she warn someone? Who? If they were looking for her, the last thing she needed was to draw attention to herself. Riding in on a dragon would be a good way to do that. She didn’t know enough even to take sides. Anyway, maybe mages in the north came in all sorts of colors.

  This northern country that had seemed so empty was getting too crowded.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Jenna said, nudging the dragon with her knees. “Let’s try our luck farther south this time.”

  Cas turned, making a wide, shallow arc to head back toward the shelter of the mountains.

  They approached the coast again, this time aiming between the town of Chalk Cliffs and the border port of Spiritgate. As they neared the ocean, the terrain plateaued until it ended in a series of white cliffs along the water. Those were easy to pick out, even in the gray dawn, for sharp-eyed flyers. A harbor town hugged the tops of the cliffs. This would be Chalk Cliffs.

  Fish? Flamecaster prompted her, in case she’d forgotten.

  “Remember? First we’re going to fly along the coast and look for ships. Then we’ll fish.”

  Fishing was the carrot that had enticed Cas to agree to this plan. After his experience with Strangward, he was still wary of ships.

  The dragon ascended rapidly as they passed over the harbor and the few ships anchored there. Higher and higher they flew, and Jenna knew that the dragon meant to come down in one of his steep dives that left her stomach far behind. But as they reached the top of the climb, she looked out to sea—far out to sea—and saw three tall ships anchored a few miles offshore, silhouetted against the brightening eastern horizon.

  What are they doing out there? Jenna thought.

  Flamecaster saw them just about the same time, and put on the brakes so abruptly that if not for her improved seat in the saddle, Jenna would have been pitched over the dragon’s head.

  Dark place. Chains. Collar hurts.

  Making a tight turn, the dragon made a beeline for shore, his neck stretched forward as if that would get him there sooner.

  “Hang on! Wait! It’s all right, Cas. I won’t let that happen to you again.”

  It made no difference. The dragon didn’t slow down until they were back over land again. She could feel his heart thumping in his throat, and every now and then he whimpered.

  Jenna thought about it. She’d never gotten a good look at Strangward’s ship, except when they’d soared over it just before it exploded. Her vision was good, but the dragon’s eyes were even better. “Do those ships look like the one you came here in, Cas?”

  Maybe. His hide quivered under her fingers. No fish today.

  Had Strangward returned so soon, with three ships this time, to try his luck again? Had the empress joined the hunt? How would they know if she was here in the north?

  They could be Ardenine vessels, ready to swoop in on ships entering or leaving the harbor. Or pirates after other goods that had nothing to do with her.

  Mountains? Cas had been subtly shifting course, flying more and more westerly, away from the coast. She understood his desire to flee back into the mountains. But if they were going to go after Strangward or the empress, Cas would have to make his peace with ships.

  They both had demons to fight. Maybe, with a little shared courage, they could do it.

  “Not every ship is after us,” she said, resting her cheek on Flamecaster’s shoulder and stroking him between his stubby horns. “Let’s find some fish.”

  She’d been working on teaching the dragon directions, and now he swerved south, following the coast, just offshore. They’d gone just a short distance when another tremor ran through him.

  More ships. Cas was trying to sound nonchalant. Not after us. Maybe.

  Jenna looked down and saw what seemed to be a race going on. Two northbound ships were running parallel to the cliffs, zigzagging back and forth to catch the wind. The ship in the lead was a smaller vessel, broad of beam, with two masts. It wallowed a bit through the waves, slow to turn and maneuver.

  The other was a sleek tall ship, with multiple sails. This one closely resembled the ship she and Adam Wolf had destroyed at Ardenscourt, and the ships they’d just seen lurking offshore. Jenna didn’t know much about ships, but even she could tell that this was the faster of the two. It seemed like it was only a matter of time before the one overtook the other.

  Was the smaller ship a Fellsian vessel, under attack by Arden or the empress? If so, should they help?

  This is not your fight, she told herself.

  If it’s not, then how do you know when it is your fight?

  A memory came back to her, of her father pleading with her to quit blowing up things.

  I wish you wouldn’t . . . do the things that you do. That’s surely a job for someone else. Nobody takes the risks that you take.

  And her response.

  I’m not going to huddle in a garret while others do my fighting for me.

  If that’s Strangward’s ship, or Strangward’s allies, then it’s my fight.

  Jenna sighed. “Cas, can you go down a little closer so I can make out the colors?”

  Making a shallow turn over the land, Cas came around again, swooping lower over the two ships. The smaller ship flew a banner with a yellow star on a blue field. Was that the Fellsian flag? She had no idea. The larger ship flew a black flag, which seemed to name it the villain.

  As if to underline that thought, the larger ship launched a ball of fire at the ship in the lead. It landed a short distance off their bow. It was not cannon fire; it was some kind of magery.

  Pirates miss. Cas curled his lip in scorn, exposing sword-sharp teeth. No good.

  “I think they’re missing on purpose,” Jenna said. “They don’t want to sink them, they want them to surrender.”

  Now the larger ship ran another flag up its mast. It was a purple death’s-head on a black background. The same colors Strangward’s ship had flown. Pirate colors. Did that mean it was Strangward? How could he have found another ship so quickly?

  Was it the empress herself?

  Suddenly, Cas pitched and rolled sideways, flapping madly to regain his equilibrium and avoid smashing into the cliff. By the time he righted himself, they were some distance inland. For a moment, Jenna thought that she might lose her breakfast.

  Jenna sick? Cas sounded worried. She couldn’t blame him. She’d thrown up on him before.

  “It was just . . . I guess I wasn’t expecting that,” Jenna said. “What happened?” />
  Wind changed.

  That stirred something in Jenna’s memory, but she couldn’t pin it down.

  By the time they made it back to the coastline, the smaller ship was lying just offshore, the bigger ship blocking the way out to sea. They could see people moving on the decks, and she could hear shouting between the two ships. The pirates seemed to be demanding that the smaller ship surrender, and the crew of the smaller ship seemed to be refusing.

  Now the small ship raised a different flag, a stylized dragon (not Fellsian, then), and returned fire, destroying the pirate ship’s tallest mast. The dragon-flagged ship plowed north again, hugging the shoreline. After some momentary confusion, the pirates gave chase, lobbing bolts of flame at their quarry that came close, but never hit. Cas followed, skimming the clifftop so hopefully they wouldn’t be seen.

  Should they intervene? Set fire to the pirate ship? Drop a block of granite onto its deck and put a hole in it? It would be easier to pick sides if they knew for sure who was down there. Since they didn’t, it was hard to justify risking themselves.

  Does he really think he can outrun them? Jenna thought.

  Not running, Flamecaster said. No feet.

  Jenna rolled her eyes. Dragon jokes.

  As it turned out, the little ship didn’t need their help. Just as the bigger ship seemed close to overtaking them again, it appeared to slam into an unseen barrier. With an awful crunching, grinding sound, the bow of the pirate ship lifted a little, then settled back as the ship shuddered to a stop, listing. The smaller ship sailed on. Jenna could hear faint cheering from the decks. Now she could see the shadowy shapes under the water, extending out from the shoreline. A reef.

  It took a moment for her to figure it out. The smaller, shore-hugging boat had a shallower draft than the sleek pirate. She could glide over an obstacle that stopped the blue-water ship in its tracks.

  In other words, the crew of the little ship had outsmarted the pirates.

  The pirates had figured that out, too, because now a storm of flame arced from the larger ship, hissing into the water all around the other ship, which was rapidly putting distance between them. One blast of flame finally hit home, cracking one of the masts in two. But the little ship kept moving, the crew manipulating two smaller sails, until it was out of range.