Cast in Secrets and Shadow

by Andrea Robertson

  Suddenly Ara didn’t feel like talking at all. She decided to go back to her room, but Joar caught sight of her before she could leave.

  “She lives!” His voice boomed through the tavern.

  With reluctance, Ara waved and went to their table.

  Chuckling, Joar jutted his chin at Teth. “This one worried you might never rouse.”

  Teth pushed a chair out for her. “Have a seat.”

  He gestured to the abundance of food on the table. “If you’re hungry, we have enough to share. This is our second round of dishes, and Joar has already ordered, what?” He looked at Joar. “Fifteen more?”

  “Not so many,” Joar answered. “I say ten.”

  “Do you think that’s enough?” Teth joked.

  Frowning, Joar replied, “If she eats too much, I will order more.”

  “There you have it,” Teth said to Ara. “He can order more.”

  Ara smiled weakly at him, and he signaled to a server for another plate.

  “You never know,” he continued. “You just might eat too much. When I woke up, I was ravenous.”

  “How long have you been here?” she asked.

  “About an hour,” he replied. “I slept most of the day, like you.”

  “Has anyone spoken to the healer?” Ara wondered if Lahvja or Nimhea had woken.

  If I don’t tell anyone what happened at the swamp, will Nimhea speak the truth? Will that be worse?

  Joar wiped his mouth after downing an ale. “I did, in the early afternoon.”

  “And?” She tensed.

  “Danik bade me not return until tomorrow afternoon,” he said. “That our friends should not be disturbed before that.”

  That gave Ara the night and the morning before she could see Nimhea, and she had decided she must speak to the princess before anyone else. It wasn’t only her guilt that compelled her. There was a new Loreknight . . . and again it wasn’t Nimhea. As the Loresmith, Ara believed she should be the one to explain Wuldr’s choice to the princess.

  The double blow of Nimhea’s wound and a virtual stranger being chosen instead of her made Ara dread the imminent conversation.

  She ate quickly, bidding Teth and Joar good night as soon as she was full. Teth offered to walk her to her room, but Ara refused. Her guilt and confusion about Nimhea were tangled up with her feelings about Teth. She couldn’t face both, and she wasn’t ready to tell Teth what she’d done.

  Back in her room, Ara undressed and crawled into bed. Despite sleeping through the day, her body still ached with exhaustion. She closed her eyes. As the well of darkness enfolded her, she hoped it would hold her fast and keep her dreams at bay.

  * * *

  At midday, Ara went to the healer. She’d stayed in her room through the morning, ignoring knocks at her door. When Teth called her name, her chest burned.

  I’m not ready.

  Not ready for what? To talk to him?

  Ara knew it was more than that. She avoided Teth because their next private conversation wouldn’t only be her confession. The more she turned over the events in the swamp in her mind, the more resolved she became that there was only one course of action she could take.

  She was the Loresmith. Her duty was to all the Loreknights. To favor one over the rest led to disaster. The swamp had revealed that bleak truth. She only wished she’d understood that sooner.

  Danik opened the door to his home and ushered Ara inside. The front area of the house was arranged as a work space. Shelves were filled with glass bottles and jars. Pungent odors filled the air; some Ara could identify within the miasma, most she could not.

  The healer bade her wait while he went into another room. A moment later Lahvja emerged. Ara drew relieved breath, and joy fluttered through her seeing her friend whole and walking.

  Lahvja came to embrace her, though she winced when Ara returned the hug.

  “Oh!” Ara drew back. “I’m so sorry.”

  “The pain is little compared to a happy reunion with a dear friend,” Lahvja replied with a kind smile.

  “How are you?” Ara asked.

  “Danik is a skilled healer,” Lahvja answered. “I’m mending quickly. I also owe a debt to Joar. His poultices kept the wound from festering, and he was wise to keep me and Nimhea at rest.”

  When Lahvja spoke the princess’s name, a cloud passed over her face.

  “Is Nimhea awake?” Ara’s hands began to tremble. She clasped them behind her back.

  Lahvja nodded.

  “I need to speak to her.”

  With a sigh, Lahvja lowered herself into a nearby chair. “She will not speak to anyone. Not yet.”

  A hard lump lodged itself in Ara’s throat. She swallowed several times.

  “Has she said anything to you?”

  “A little.” Lahvja pushed her long mahogany hair behind her shoulders. She suddenly looked deeply weary. “But mostly to demand I keep all but Danik away.”

  Her gaze fell past Ara into some imagined distance. “She knows it can’t stay this way for long. And that we will need to leave here soon.”

  She paused, then looked directly at Ara. “But I want to give her at least some time. To let her heal and adjust.”

  Ara bit her lip, then asked, “Has the wound improved at all?”

  “I can’t say, as I didn’t see it before yesterday,” Lahvja replied. “I know Joar did the best he could with what was available.”

  She went silent for a moment. “The scarring will be significant.”

  Though Ara had expected it, hearing Lahvja speak the words made her sway on her feet. “And her eye?”

  “The soft tissue around the area was damaged, but not the eye itself,” Lahvja said.

  Thank Nava.

  For some reason Ara’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Has she seen the injury?”

  “No,” Lahvja replied. She offered nothing more.

  Her heartbeat sped up, and Ara asked, “Did she say anything about how it happened?”

  The question appeared to surprise Lahvja. “Only that she was defending me at the time.”

  “She said nothing else?” Ara countered, taken aback by Lahvja’s answer.

  Why didn’t Nimhea tell Lahvja what happened?

  Lahvja shook her head. “I don’t think she wants to recall the fight. It’s too close.” Taking Ara’s arm, Lahvja steered them toward the door. “Take a walk with me. I need the fresh air and for you to tell me what transpired within the Tangle.”

  * * *

  It turned out that Ara wasn’t the only one with a story to tell. After she’d recounted her ordeal with Ofrit and the python, and then at the Loresmith Forge with Wuldr, Lahvja related what had happened to the others from the point they’d been separated.

  Their shouts of alarm had been provoked by the vines’ sudden growth not only around the Tangle, but also outward. The vines spread, pushing Lahvja and the others back until they were forced from what had been the clearing. Facing knotted, dense jungle, there was no way to reach Ara. All they could do was wait by the swamp. That was when the creature had attacked.

  “In all of my nightmares I’ve never encountered anything so vile,” Lahvja spat as though she couldn’t bear a taste in her mouth. “Everything about it was wrong. Wicked.”

  Ara made a small noise of agreement. The memory of the swamp beast still made her feel sick.

  “I tried to evade its attacks, but its reach was so long and so swift.”

  “In the end it took down everyone but Joar,” Ara said. “And he was only able to defeat it with the powers of StormSong.”

  Lahvja went quiet.

  Ara spoke softly. “I know it will be hard for Nimhea to hear about Joar.”

  Nodding, Lahvja said, “It will, and it pains me to add another burden when she already suffers.”

&
nbsp; She glanced at Ara. “I would ask that you let me deliver this news. I believe that would be best.”

  Ara swatted away the knee-jerk desire to say no. As much as she wanted to speak with Nimhea, it would only be selfishness on her part to deny Lahvja’s request.

  “You should tell her.”

  “Thank you.” Lahvja offered her a little smile.

  * * *

  Joar and Teth were waiting on the platform outside Danik’s home when they returned.

  “It’s good to see you on your feet,” Teth said to Lahvja.

  She laughed. “Good to be on my feet.”

  “And you’ve been hiding,” Teth teased Ara, but there was a weight behind his words that made her look at her feet.

  “Joar.” Lahvja took the man’s giant hands in hers. “I am so grateful for the aid you’ve given me and Nimhea. And I rejoice that the gods have named you Loreknight.”

  “Thank you,” Joar replied. “As for my attempts at healing, they were crude. I wish I could have done more.”

  “Do not belittle what you’ve done.” Lahvja smiled at him.

  “What of the princess?” he asked.

  “More time,” Lahvja said quickly. “She needs more time to rest. It’s best we let her alone for now.”

  With suddenly drawn expressions, Teth and Joar offered silent assent.

  Looking at Lahvja, Ara asked, “Could you eat?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  “I could eat,” Joar added, his face brightening.

  Teth lifted his eyebrows. “We’d better leave soon. The way Joar eats, the village will run out of food.”

  “I had not considered that possibility.” Joar’s expression grew troubled. “You are right. We should leave soon.”

  Groaning, Teth put his face in his hands.

  At the tavern, Lahvja went to speak with the cook about preparing a light broth with specific herbs for herself in lieu of a heavier meal.

  When she joined them at the table, Ara said, “As soon as Nimhea is able to travel, we need to continue our quest. There are eight more Loreknights to be found.”

  “So eager for shiny new heroes?” Teth teased. “But that makes me feel less special. Joar, too, I’m sure.”

  Ara rolled her eyes at him and Joar grunted, while Teth grinned at them both.

  “I believe I can help,” Lahvja broke in. “Given what Ara told me about the Tangle and her conversation with Wuldr at the Loresmith Forge, I think we must go to Nava’s Bounty.”

  Teth gave a low whistle, his impish expression fading. “The Great Market? That’s the busiest place in Saetlund. Exactly the kind of place we’ve been avoiding.”

  “I understand that,” Lahvja replied. “But each of the trials has taken place at a holy site wherein the dark aspects of the gods dwell.”

  “But Nava’s Bounty is the opposite.” Ara frowned at her. “It’s the place that celebrates her goodness, the gifts of fertility, the harvest, family.”

  With a nod, Lahvja continued, “And the Great Market was built around it. We’ve found the way to each trial by first visiting the sites where the gods are revered, known places where people once traveled to seek out the gods. The dark places are secret. Shunned.”

  “What about the scroll?” Teth asked. “That’s what led us to the Tangle.”

  “I’ve been reading it while at rest,” Lahvja said. “And I’m afraid it has no further direction for us.”

  “Ugh.” Ara rubbed her temples. “The answers we need are with Eamon.”

  “They may be or not.” Lahvja shrugged. “We cannot know what mysteries lie in the scroll Eamon has. Perhaps the scrolls only speak of Ofrit and were meant to help us begin our journey, but not direct us through the whole.”

  She paused, smiling. “If nothing else, thinking of it in those terms might ease your mind. Better not to dwell on what we cannot change.”

  Ara returned the smile grudgingly.

  A server appeared with broth for Lahvja and an array of dishes for the rest of them to share.

  “What do you expect to find at the Great Market?” Teth heaped steaming vegetables and sizzling meats onto his plate. “Besides a swarm of imperial soldiers?”

  Lahvja lifted a spoonful of broth and blew on it. “In truth, I don’t know, but I believe it is our best chance of finding Nava’s hidden site.”

  Teth swallowed the food he’d been chewing, then took a lingering drink of water, before leaning back in his chair. “It’s not just the Great Market I’m concerned about. The roads leading there are the most heavily patrolled in Saetlund.”

  “Could we join another caravan?” Ara asked.

  “After the raid on the Below’s caravan in Daefrit, I don’t think we can risk it,” Teth answered. “And the border of Sola and Vijeri north of TriBridge is a fortified imperial checkpoint. They’ll search every caravan wagon.”

  “I suppose we could make our own path through the jungle with Joar guiding us.” Ara tore off a chunk of bread and swiped it through the sauce pooling on her plate.

  Joar grunt his assent without looking at her. Strangely, he hadn’t touched his food.

  “Lose your appetite?” Teth asked.

  “Your words from before lie heavily upon me,” Joar answered. “I think I must hunt to supplement the village’s foodstuffs. It is unfair that I burden them.”

  Teth threw his hands up. “Joar! It was a joke. A joke!”

  Joar frowned at him. “I think it is a serious matter.”

  Dropping his head back to rest against the chair, Teth stared at the ceiling, muttering to himself.

  Ara thought to come to Teth’s rescue, but then she caught the smile that crept onto Joar’s lips and disappeared just as quickly. The she noticed Lahvja meeting Joar’s gaze and quickly hiding her own smile. Teth, it seemed, had found a worthy opponent. Ara wondered how long it would take the thief to figure that out.

  After recovering his composure, Teth continued eating for several minutes in silence. Joar dug into the food as well, and Lahvja sipped her broth.

  When his plate was clean, Teth set his fork down and said, “We could save time by traveling through the Gash.”

  “The Gash isn’t patrolled?” Ara asked.

  As far as Ara knew, the Gash was simply the empire’s failed attempt to build a war road to bring troops and siege weapons into Vijeri.

  “It used to be,” Teth replied. “But it turns out the Gash is a very unlucky place for imperial soldiers. Terrible accidents. Animal attacks. People going missing or losing their minds. At first these misfortunes made the Vokkans increase their patrols of the Gash, as they assumed insurgents were the cause. But no rebels were ever captured, and fatalities grew to the point of becoming intolerable. Eventually, the imperials decided a burned-over swath of jungle wasn’t worth the trouble.”

  Ara paused between bites. “They never discovered the cause?”

  “Not a viable cause,” he answered. “But soldiers from the garrison that was eventually abandoned swore that the Gash was haunted.”

  “Hmph.” Joar looked at Teth. “When I saw the Gash, I found no evidence of ghosts.”

  “But did you enter the Gash?” The tremulous question came from Lahvja, who had gone very still.

  “I passed by the southern edge, but did not traverse the Gash itself,” Joar admitted. He peered at her with concern. “What troubles you?”

  Ashen, Lahvja spoke slowly. “It was not only soldiers who bore witness to the spirits that inhabit the Gash. Vijerians have stories of them as well. Frightening stories.”

  “But they are stories,” Teth countered. “I’ve had no reports of danger in the Gash from the Below.”

  “And do members of the Below frequently traverse the Gash?” Anger flashed in Lahvja’s eyes. The emotion was so uncommon in the summoner it made
both Teth and Ara draw back.

  Teth cleared his throat. “I can’t recall specific details of such a journey, but someone must have. The Below are everywhere. We go everywhere.”

  “Not there.” Lahvja’s voice was hard and cold.

  Teth opened his mouth to reply, but seeing Lahvja’s expression changed his mind.

  “Lahvja,” Ara said gently. “I’m not questioning the truth of these stories, but if there are spirits, do you think they pose as much of a threat to us as the imperial patrols we’ll encounter on the roads and at the border?”

  Lahvja turned a sharp gaze on Ara, but a moment later her shoulders sagged. “I don’t know. I can only say that the Gash is ground I hoped never to tread.”

  Shifting in his chair, Teth avoided looking at Lahvja when he said, “I say we avoid the roads. The empire has to be circulating our likenesses by now, and I’m guessing they know we’re in Vijeri.”

  “We don’t know that Eamon told them or that he gave them the scroll,” Lahvja snapped.

  “We don’t know he hasn’t,” Teth replied in a measured tone.

  “Joar?” Ara turned to the hunter.

  He returned her gaze steadily. “You are the Loresmith. I follow where you lead.”

  She hadn’t expected that answer, and his words made her skin prickle. The sensation grew stronger when Lahvja said, “Joar is right. The decision should be yours.”

  “Works for me,” Teth said, returning his attention to the meal at hand.

  Ara sat, aware of Joar’s and Lahvja’s eyes on her. While she was deeply honored by their trust, a stony fear settled on her chest.

  The Loresmith should lead, but I made the wrong choice in the Tangle, and Nimhea paid the price. Who will pay if I make the wrong choice now?

  They waited for her answer, and she hoped they took her silence for contemplation and not the fear it was. Ara knew this wasn’t a responsibility she could shirk, but that didn’t stop her throat from constricting.

  She forced herself to swallow and take a long, slow breath.

  “We go to the Gash.”