Chasing Shadows (Saving Galerance, Book 1) (15 page)

“So, what’s for dinner?” he asked.

Norabel went to her counter to see what she had. “There’s
some meat and bread if you like.”

“Meat and bread, huh?” he asked. He continued to tap his
fingers against the wood and sighed.

“If you’d like to wait, I can make you some stew,” she
offered pleasantly.

“Hmm. Stew does sound good.”

She put the loaf of bread on the table to keep him appeased
while she returned to the counter to start chopping vegetables for the stew.
Fletcher jammed his fingers into the bread and took little pieces of it while
he was waiting.

“So,” he commented casually. “You got back home awfully
late. What were you doing?”

Norabel continued chopping as she answered, “I was walking.
Just saying hi to a few friends.”

“You must have a lot of friends.”

She went to the hearth at the corner of her kitchen and put
some logs of wood inside. She used a pinch of Snapper to light it, and then hung
a pot over the fire. When she stood back up, she nearly jumped, for Fletcher
was standing right behind her.

“How does a girl get so many friends?” he asked.

His hand came up and brushed away a strand of hair that had
fallen over her eyes. Norabel tried to remain calm as she felt his fingers
slide behind her ear to tuck the strand back in place.

“I just try to be nice to everyone I meet,” she told him.

Stepping around him, she went back to her cutting board.

“You know, that never seems to work for me,” he said.

The floorboards creaked, and she could hear him moving
around her small living-room. Taking a quick peek behind her, she saw him
pocket an apple and the wooden figurine of a tree that her mother had left her.

“Well, there’s a trick to it,” Norabel called out, trying to
focus solely on chopping the vegetable in front of her.

“Oh yeah? A trick?” He returned to his spot at the table,
and she could feel him staring at her back.

“Yes,” she nodded. “If you want to be friends with someone,
before you talk to them, you just have to picture one happy thing. Just one
thing that makes you happy.”

“And that does it?”

She went to the pot and put the chopped vegetables and meat
inside.

“It usually does,” she said.

“And if it doesn’t?” he questioned, lifting his boot up onto
her table and picking away at the caked on dirt.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Then you think of two happy
things.”

He put his foot down and fiddled with the little clumps of
dried mud that he had discarded onto the table. “You mean, like an Albatross
Seed?” he asked.

Norabel faltered a moment, almost cutting her finger on the
knife in her hands. She chose to say nothing to this, and Fletcher was quiet after
that as she continued to make his dinner. She tried to avoid looking at him,
instead choosing to stare at the stew pot or into the flames. When it was
finally finished, she served Fletcher a bowl, and he gobbled it down. She
didn’t dare take any while he was eating, and after his first serving, he
promptly asked for another. He went on to eat a third and fourth helping, until
there was only one more bowl-full left.

“You know what?” he said, scooping the last bit of it into
his bowl. “I think I’ll take this for the road.” Then he walked to the door
with the bowl in his hand and waved goodbye to her, saying, “Night Norabel.
I’ll see you real soon.”

When he had finally gone, she rested her back against the
kitchen wall in exhaustion and pressed her palms into her forehead. It was nearly
time for her to go to bed, but she hadn’t eaten any dinner yet. Trudging over
to the kitchen counter, she began to tiredly slice up the rest of the bread.

*

Hunter stared blankly into the small fire he had built for
his meager camp. Tonight was the first night of his journey, and already he
could see how exhausting it was going to prove. He had turned off the main road
earlier that day and had found the smaller path that Auberon had told him to
take. Since the path led to a rockier part of the wood, he was having to make
camp squished between two jagged boulders.

Looking over to where he had tethered his horse to a tree,
he almost envied him. He had given him the more level of ground in their
campsite. He couldn’t bring himself to tie his horse to a patch of ground where
he would constantly be slipping throughout the night.

From somewhere in the forest, a night owl screeched. Fear
pricked at Hunter, but he quickly quelled it, reminding himself that it was
only a bird.

Reaching over from his spot by the fire, he grabbed his
pack. He rummaged around in it for a minute until he finally found what he was
looking for. Pulling it out, he held it near the fire so he could better see.
The clay bird in his hands stared back at him, and he gingerly rubbed his thumb
across it.

See
, he told himself.
There’s nothing to be afraid
of. Birds aren’t scary
.

Another owl screeched, and something rustled in a bush not
too far away.

They’re not scary
, he told himself again.
So stop
being afraid
.

A twig cracked, even louder than the rustle, and his horse
neighed, trying to back up from the tree he was tied to.

Alright
, he decided.
Maybe they’re a little scary
.

Getting to his feet, he quickly stomped out his fire. Then,
grabbing his pack, he rushed over to his horse and hastily tried to undue the
rope connecting him to the tree.

Another twig broke, and he could have sworn he heard
whispering.

“Who’s out there?” he yelled.

He peered out into the dark wood, but there was only still
silence. He went back to the rope and undid it in a few more hurried pulls.
When it was finally free, he mounted up on his horse and kicked him into a fast
trot. He hadn’t gone more than a few paces when an arrow came flying near his
head.

“Whoa!” he cried out. “Don’t shoot!”

Another arrow flew through the air, narrowly missing his
arm. He kicked his horse to go faster. Taking a look behind him, he searched
for any sign of his attackers, but couldn’t see anything. Facing forward again,
he had to pull violently back on his reins as a little boy suddenly appeared in
the road before him.

The boy was young, around five or six. He was wearing worn
and tattered clothes that looked too big for him, like they had been passed
down from an older brother that had been much taller at his age. Though it was
dark, there was something Hunter could see in the boy’s eyes that irked him.
They looked far wiser than that of a five-year-old, almost as if this child he
had stumbled upon was really an ancient presence as old as Valor Wood itself.

“What are you doing?!” Hunter exclaimed in a whisper, his
heart thundering in his ears.

The little boy merely put a finger to his lips.

Hunter looked cautiously around him. It didn’t seem as if
there were any more arrows coming at him. But there was no way he had lost his
attackers. They still had to be out there somewhere. Maybe they weren’t firing
at him because of the little boy near him.

“What are you doing out here in the night?” he asked. His
horse anxiously pawed the ground underfoot, not wanting to stand still.

The boy put his hands behind his back and shook his head
like it was a secret.

“Where are your parents?” Hunter inquired further.

Again he shook his head.

Hunter took another look to the trees around him. He
couldn’t just leave this boy by himself. And he seemed to be the only thing
keeping him from becoming pierced with arrows.

Dismounting, he took a step over to the boy, asking, “Where
do you live?”

The boy shook his head and took one hand from his back to
motion him to come closer.

“Yeah?” he asked.

He bent down so that he was eyelevel with the boy. The boy
took his other hand from behind his back, and Hunter looked down at his small,
balled-up fist. Opening up his palm, Hunter saw there was a thin layer of white
dust inside. Before he could react, the boy blew the dust in his face.

The vague outline of someone dropping down from the trees
played in Hunter’s eyes like a dying ray of light, before he crumpled to the
floor, and the world around him went black.

That morning, when Norabel went to the Amias Gift left at
her doorstep, she was actually looking forward to the little bits of food she
might find inside. Fletcher had cleaned out most of the food in her house, and
she wouldn’t have time to go buy more before work.

Opening up the small, woven basket, she was surprised to
find only one object inside. A single silver box. It looked like the kind of
boxes that Snapper was usually stored inside. Taking it carefully in her hands,
she lifted the lid and found a stash of blue powder inside. That was certainly
not Snapper, but she had heard of other powders out there that people used for
different purposes. Some were harmless enough, but most of them were bad news.
Looking at the blue powder in this box, Norabel had a sinking feeling that this
would prove to be trouble as well. Going back inside, she left the silver box
on her kitchen table and then turned to leave for work.

Across the street, Iris was bending over her family’s Amias
Gift, and promptly picked up the silver box inside. She looked at it
inquisitively for a moment before pinching some of the powder between her
fingers.

“Iris! Put that down!” Norabel yelled out.

Iris froze. She looked to Norabel curiously as she ran over
to her.

“What is it?” Iris asked, letting the powder in her fingers
fall back into the box.

“I don’t know, sweetie,” she said, gingerly taking the box
from her and setting it back down in the basket. “But it’s dangerous to play
with things when we don’t know what they do. Especially colored powders.”

“Iris?” her father’s voice called from inside. “Are you out
here?”

A moment later, Keaton appeared at the door. When he saw
that Norabel was there with his daughter, he gave her a nod.

“Norabel. Thank you for…for what you did yesterday,” he
said, referencing to his encounter with Fletcher.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stop him.”

He looked down to his daughter and took her hand, saying,
“Go on inside. Your mother’s got breakfast ready.”

Norabel watched Iris happily skip inside, and then looked
back to Keaton.

“How are you doing?” she asked. Then, glancing down at her
hands, she added, “I mean, with…”

“We can manage,” Keaton answered, nodding his head. Then he
sighed, admitting, “I don’t know for how long though.”

She twisted her fingers together, wondering how to word the
things she was thinking, before saying, “You know. I don’t…I don’t need all the
money I make. I just have to look out for myself, and I don’t need to eat as
much as most people do.”

“Oh, Norabel,” he said, waving his hand. “No, we can’t…”

“You can,” she said, suddenly thrusting her purse of coins
in front of him. “Either you take it now, or I’ll give it to Iris, and she
might end up spending it all on candied fruit or something.”

“I…” Keaton stuttered. Slowly he raised up his palm, and she
gingerly dropped it inside. “Thank you,” he said, looking her sincerely in the
eyes. “From my whole family. Thank you Norabel.”

She smiled and nodded. “Well, I have to get going to work
now.” Before she left, she pointed down to the basket on their doorstep,
saying, “Oh, I’d be a little cautious about the gift this morning. At least
until someone figures out what it is.”

After work that day, Norabel made her way over to the path
into the mountain towards their Harbinger meeting place. When she got there,
she found everyone gathered in a circle around a rock in the meadow, and a
silver box from someone’s Amias Gift had been placed on top.

“Does anyone know what that does?” Norabel asked, coming
into their circle.

From were Archer stood, he took an apple out of his pocket
and crunched loudly into it.

“I think I have a sneaking suspicion of what it is,” Logan
answered, folding his arms in front of his chest and frowning down at the box. “And
with the caravan we saw coming from Liadrel, I’d say I’m pretty certain.”

Archer took another large bite of his apple, the sound of
his chewing loudly crunching through all their ears like the trot of a heavy
man walking through crusty snow.

“So what is it?” Mason prompted.

“It’s…” Logan started, but then stopped when Archer took
another echoing bite of food. “Archer! Do you think you could not do that right
now!” he asked, growing annoyed.

“I’m sorry,” Archer mumbled around the food in his mouth. “I
slept through my lunch break. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

Logan took a deep breath and waited for the crunching to
finally stop before announcing, “It’s an FPS.”

“I came to the same conclusion as well,” Ashlin said,
nodding gravely at the silver box.

“What does that mean?” Norabel asked.

“Forbidden powdered substance, “Ashlin explained. “It’s one
of several types of powders that are sold illegally. Most of them originate
from Liadrel, which is why they are considered forbidden. But each kind of
powder has a special…well, has a special effect on the human body. Some can
make a person fall asleep in an instant, some can make your body stronger, or
weaker, and some can even kill. Let’s just say it’s a good thing this powder
isn’t black. Those ones are all lethal.”

“Well, which is this?” Norabel asked, her eyes wide with
concern.

“I think they call it…”

Archer took another bite of apple, giving Logan a sheepish
look and trying to eat slower so that he muffled his crunching.

“Pleasure Powder,” Logan continued. “Instead of inhaling it,
people burn a little mound of the stuff and breathe in the smoke. It’s supposed
to fill you with a strange sort of euphoria. A kind of ecstasy.”

“How do you know so much about this?” Mason asked.

Logan took a sigh and admitted, “Because, before you came to
work with me, there was a guy at the Steel Works that was addicted to the
stuff. The more he took, the dumber he got. One day, it got so bad that he
ended up getting hurt, nearly burned his hand off.”

“Well, what should we do?” Archer asked, turning his apple
around to find a prime spot to take the next bite. “You wanna try and steal
em?”

“No,” Ashlin said. “We can’t. Not unless you want to break
into every house in Breccan.”

“What’s done has been done already,” Mason said. “We should
just focus on the job at hand. Norabel, what did you find out about the stables
yesterday?”

Norabel gulped and looked down to her boots. She felt bad
about giving out the information she had learned when those four boys had been
so kind to her.

“Norabel?” Mason prompted.

“You
did
go, didn’t you?” Archer asked, giving her a
skeptical look.

“Yes, I went,” she answered.

“So let’s hear it,” Ashlin said. “How many guards?”

“Uh, one. Just one.”

“Keep going,” Mason urged gently.

She cleared her throat and took a deep breath, reminding
herself that the Harbingers were going to attack the stables whether she helped
them or not.

“You can reach the stables by a village road that’s blocked
from the view of the stronghold. The guard they have on duty carries a ring of
three keys. The largest of them opens the stable door. And, from what I
understand, the guard’s not too keen on having to watch a bunch of horses in
the night. He’ll probably surrender without you having to hurt him.”

“Wow,” Mason commented, giving her a smile. “How’d you find
all that out?”

Norabel felt a sensation of delight well up inside her, but
she quickly snuffed it out, reminding herself of what she did in order to
acquire that information.

“Just by looking,” she answered.

Archer reached over and actually bumped her arm in a sign of
respect. “See Norry! You
can
go just about anywhere without being
noticed. No one ever suspects you of anything. You look too much like a kid.”

“Logan and I found a feasible route out to the forest,”
Mason announced, bringing the attention back on him. “And with Norabel’s
intel…I say we go tonight.”

“No rest for the rebels, huh?” Archer commented, sticking
his apple core in his pocket. “A basket job one night, and a horse heist the
next. I’m gonna have to find a better way to get some sleep during the lunch
hour.”

“W-what?” Norabel stuttered. No one told her that they had
pulled a job last night.

“Are you just gonna leave that in your pocket?” Ashlin
asked, pointing to where the apple was sticking out of his pants.

“I think it gives me a sorta sugary-sweet smell,” Archer
answered proudly.

“It’s going to start rotting,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Logan volunteered. “He once
kept a strawberry in his pocket for a whole week. The thing smelt horrible! You
don’t even want to know how I finally got it out of there.”

Before Archer could defend himself, Norabel spoke up,
asking, “You pulled a job last night? Why didn’t you tell me?”

The group instantly quieted, and she looked to the circle of
faces around her. Archer seemed unfazed, Logan gave her an apologetic look, and
Mason and Ashlin were turning to each other as if silently debating what they
should tell her.

Finally it was Ashlin that spoke, saying, “Hey Belly. Would
you mind if I talk to you for a minute, just us girls?”

Norabel nodded and moved her feet forward in a daze until
she and Ashlin were halfway across the meadow, a safe distance away from the
boys.

“You know you did great work yesterday with the stable
intel,” Ashlin told her with a smile.

She knew it was a compliment, but Norabel felt like she was
being spoken to as a child.

“But see, the thing is,” Ashlin continued, speaking a little
softer now. “It’s getting a little…crowded up on the tree. Do you understand?”

Norabel nodded blankly, not feeling able to say anything
back.

“But there are a lot of other things you can do for us,”
Ashlin added quickly, trying to cheer her up. “Archer was right; you’re great
at getting around without being noticed. And we could really use that. Just
maybe as a ‘before-job’ thing.”

“Are you saying you don’t want me at the stable job?” she
asked, her voice sounding so small in her ears.

“Well, we don’t really need five people to pull it off,”
Ashlin reasoned.

“Did you all decide this as a group?” she asked, finally finding
a little strength in her voice. She couldn’t believe she was being pushed away
from her friends so easily.

Ashlin paused a moment, caught off guard by Norabel’s
question. “Well,” she answered, “Mason and I saw you were a little reluctant…”

She looked back to the group to where Mason stood. He was
leaning against a rock, his arms folded over his chest and his hair ruffling in
the slight breeze that found its way through the mountain pass.

“You understand, right?” Ashlin asked. “They’ll be other jobs
where we’ll need you there.”

Norabel took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I
understand,” she answered.

“There’s a good girl,” Ashlin said, giving her shoulder a
shake.

At her last comment, Norabel decided that she had had
enough. “Sorry. But how old do you think I am?” she asked. She had said it in
aggravation, but it came out sounding like a polite inquiry.

“Oh, uh…” Ashlin faltered, surprised at her question. She
put a hand to her mouth in thought. “You’re fifteen or something, right?”

Norabel’s shoulder’s fell. “I’m twenty-one.”

Ashlin’s eyes widened. “No! Are you serious?”

Norabel scrunched her nose, wondering why everyone thought
she was lying when she told them her age. Why would she lie about this? Why was
she destined to always be mistaken for a child?

“I’m just…I’m not a kid, okay?” she said, stepping up to
Ashlin. “So please don’t treat me like one.”

When the two of them rejoined the group, Mason smoothed over
the details of what they would do that night. His plan was to keep it simple.
They would knock out the guard, use his keys to open up the stables, and then
tie the horses together in four groups. Each one of them would slowly walk a
group of horses out of the stables. Beforehand, they would cover the few meters
of stone courtyard between the stables and the dirt road in a tarp to muffle
the sound of the horses’ hooves. Ashlin added that they should leave it on the
ground with the Harbinger’s new motto written on it:
The beast has answered
.
Then, moving as quietly as possible, they would walk the horses down the path
that Mason and Logan had chosen, up into the mountains, and then free and away
into the forest.

After this had all been discussed, Mason dismissed them all,
telling the four of them to meet at his place at nightfall. Norabel somberly watched
them leave, observing how Ashlin went up the path of the mountain to avoid
going back through the city. Is this really what she stayed in Breccan for, she
wondered. To be phased out by someone that could do everything ten times better
than her. If Mason didn’t need her anymore, then why was she here?

She thought she was by herself, when Mason suddenly asked,
“You okay, Norabel?”

Her small shoulders shuddered in shock. She hadn’t expected
him to stay behind. He took a step towards her and angled his head down so he
could look into her face.

“I’m fine,” she assured him, giving him a weak smile. It
wouldn’t do to pout about her demotion on the team. It would only drive him
away.

“What were you thinking?” he asked, pointing up to the hills.

She scrunched her brow in confusion and followed his finger
to see where he was pointing. She saw the hills and rocks they used to climb on
when they were kids. She saw the boulder they had once balanced on with one
foot for nearly an hour straight. She saw the scraggly grass where they would
sit and count to a hundred, waiting for the other to hide, and she saw the spot
on the rocky mountain where they each tried to throw pebbles, winning the game
if they could get it right in the center of the hole in the rocks.