Chasing Shadows (Saving Galerance, Book 1) (27 page)

“I’m sorry you have to bear this burden alone,” she whispered.
“I can see it’s eating you up inside.”

Mason moved his hand so he could wrap it more firmly around
hers.

“If you won’t tell me what it is,” she continued, “then will
you at least let me help you to forget? As,” she took in a breath, “as your friend?”

“I…” A pained expression crossed his eyes as his gaze washed
over her face. “You’ll still have me?” He shook his head in disbelief.

Her eyes flicked to the bedroom window. “What you did for
Hunter…”

“I didn’t do it for him,” he said, placing a feather light
hand on her shoulder.

She lightly squeezed his hand and pulled away, going over to
the bed to sit down. The anger seemed to drain out of her. She never much
wanted it there in the first place. And although the thought crossed her mind
that Mason should be the one to try and earn her friendship back, she didn’t
like how bitter and resentful the whole idea sounded. She just wanted to be
happy again.

Mason seemed to have a harder time accepting this. His face
was wrought with guilt, as if he thought he didn’t deserve her response. Hoping
to get his mind on other matters, she motioned to the door and asked, “Will
Ashlin be alright? She seemed livid.”

He stared at his fingers as he told her, “I think she’s in
shock. She just killed the chief of Breccan. He was unarmed at the time.”

Norabel’s mouth opened in surprise.

“Now the whole village knows,” he added, shaking his head in
remorse. “And on top of that, they think we tried to poison the stronghold with
Black Powder. So now everyone is going to hate us. All our hard work has been
ruined over the course of one night. Auberon’s been turned into a hero and a
martyr, and we’ve been turned into the monsters that killed him.”

“It sounds like you’re giving up,” she pointed out gently.

“I just don’t see any way of turning Breccan back in our favor,”
he said, curling his fingers towards his palm in frustration.

She gave him an encouraging smile. “I didn’t give up going
back home just so you could quit on me. What happened to raising the fever to
get rid of this sickness?”

“That was before…I just don’t know what to do now.”

“There is always a way forward,” she told him. “It’s the Pax
that tells us we’re stuck, that we can never get it any better than this, that
it will rule our lands till the end of our days. The only way it can work is if
people choose to believe this. And if you’re one of those people, Mason, then
Galerance has lost a great warrior.”

“How can you say this to me?” he asked. “How can you be so
nice after…after what I did to you?”

She looked down at her lap and smiled sadly. “Things get
better. They always do. You can always find something to laugh at every day.”
She looked back up to him, saying, “That’s what you told me when we first met.
I was sad about my grandfather dying and having to move to a new home. You were
nine years old, but you were the first one that could get me to smile after it
happened.”

“I remember,” he said, his eyes filling with the memory of
it. He went over to her bed and sat down next to her. “You were standing outside
of a dress shop, waiting for your mom, and I had slipped away from my brother
who had gone into the shop across the street to look at the daggers on
display.”

“I didn’t know how I was going to stand it in Breccan until
you came up to me,” she admitted.

“You had looked so sad, standing on that street all alone.”

“I wasn’t sad after.” She closed her tired eyes for a moment
and took in a deep breath. “I know things can’t go back to the way they were,
but I wish we could at least try to remember once in a while what it was like
back then. Otherwise things will be too bleak.”

“I’ll try,” he whispered. He raised his hand as if he was
about to touch her face, but then drew away. Standing to his feet, he cleared
his throat, saying, “I should let you get some rest.”

Before he could leave, she called out, “Will you send Ashlin
in please?”

“Ashlin?” he repeated, confused.

She nodded, and he promptly left to go get her. When he
returned, Ashlin took a timid step into the bedroom behind him, wondering why
it was Norabel should call her in. However, it wasn’t just confusion that
Norabel saw on her face. She could see torment there as well. Everyone, even
Mason, believed she killed a man in cold blood.

Clearing his throat, Mason turned to the door, saying, “I’ll
leave you two…”

“No, stay,” she said, calling him back in. “I want you to
hear this as well.”

“What is it?” Ashlin asked, looking crestfallen and
defeated.

Norabel’s mind went back to what she had seen at Ashlin’s
house in the woods. She wasn’t sure what it was that she was hiding, or if it
was
her guardian that she had seen outside the stronghold speaking with Auberon
last night. She realized that there was still the very real possibility that
Ashlin was working against them, yet despite this, she couldn’t forget that
Ashlin was a girl like any other. Though she put on a tough display, she was
vulnerable just like the rest of them.

“Auberon’s death wasn’t entirely your fault,” Norabel told
her.

“Sorry?” she asked. Her fingers were wrapped around her
wrist, and her thumb was pressing into the skin as if rubbing at an irritating
sore.

“I don’t know how, but the Pax must have known that
something like this would happen. They were ready for it. Not just ready; they
were planning on making it even worse.”

“I don’t understand,” Mason said, scrunching his forehead.

“You heard about the Black Powder,” she continued. “What you
don’t know is that they trapped their own men inside a locked room, planning on
killing them with it. They were willing to sacrifice those men so that the
Harbingers would look like monsters. If they did that, then no one would want
to join us.”

“Well it seems to have worked,” Ashlin despaired, staring
down at her wrist and pressing into her skin even harder.

“I didn’t tell you so you could feel sorry for yourself,”
Norabel asserted. “I told you because I wanted to let you know that I don’t
believe you to be a cold-blooded murderer. Auberon must have been planning to
get himself killed. Whatever he did or said to you to…” she shook her head, “He
only did it so you would kill him. I’m not saying what you did was justified,
but even so, you can’t let their plan beat you. This isn’t done yet. Not by a
long shot.”

Ashlin seemed stunned by her words. She stopped rubbing at
her wrist and opened her hands to stare down at them. Her right hand was
stained in blood from where she had stabbed Auberon, but the left was the
healthy peach color of skin. After a moment of contemplation, that warrior
passion returned to her face, and she gave a nod of her head, both thanking
Norabel and affirming that she wasn’t quitting yet.

“Glad we still have you with us,” she commented as she
turned to leave the room.

When she was gone, Mason cleared his throat, saying,
“Thanks.” He motioned with his head to where Ashlin had been a moment ago.
“That was…”

“It was just the truth,” she said. “Everyone deserves to
hear the truth.”

He looked sadly down to the ground and nodded. Going to the
door, he placed a hand on the post before glancing back and saying, “Goodnight
Norabel.”

She watched him retreat down the hallway before she curled
up on the bed, her heavy eyelids drooping, sending her off to sleep once more.

Lorcan clasped his hands firmly behind his back as he looked
out the stronghold windows, watching as the villagers filled up the main square
for Auberon’s memorial service. It was not set to start for another thirty
minutes, but already the place was packed with villagers ready to pay their
fallen chief the respect he deserved.

“It seems it worked,” Lorcan commented to the man standing
behind him. “Auberon will be recognized as a hero for decades to come.”

“Hmm,” the man named Brin mumbled, deep in thought.

“Is something wrong?” Lorcan asked, the faint lines of worry
tugging at the corners of his eyes as he faced the man.

“You tell me, Chief Lorcan,” Brin challenged. “Remind me
again what Amias feels about having loose ends.”

“I already told you, it won’t be a problem,” Lorcan
affirmed.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he nodded. “Of course, we’ll have
to wait and see what Amias says when I give him my report.”

“Yes, I guess we will,” Lorcan snapped.

Brin narrowed his eyes at him before turning to walk away.

He had just reached the door to the meeting room when Lorcan
called out, “What are you going to do with Ashlin? As Auberon’s replacement, I
think I deserve to know.”

“You’ll know when I need you to know,” he replied gruffly.
Then, tipping his hand to his head in salute, he said, “I bid you good day and
good luck, Chief Lorcan.”

The new chief of Breccan held his breath as he watched the
most secretive man in all of Galerance leave the room. Then, returning to the
window, he stared down at everyone gathered below and tried to grasp onto the
fact that he was, at once, in charge of everything he saw, and at the same
time, in charge of nothing.

*

As the crowd dispersed after Chief Auberon’s memorial,
Hunter kept his eyes peeled as he stood by his post, watching the faces of
those that passed by. The entire village had been given the day off from work
in order to honor their fallen chief. No one seemed to be in a particular
hurry. They all mulled about this way and that, trying to decide what to do
with their new-found time.

“You looking for her?” a voice asked from behind him.

Hunter turned to see Emmett taking a spot by his side. A
dull stab of pained prodded his heart as he realized who Emmett was referring
to. Yet, despite the hurt he felt at having been deceived this whole time, he
couldn’t deny the fact that he really was looking for her in the crowd. He had
been doing a lot of thinking over the past few days, and the only solid
conclusion he could really come up with was that he still longed to be near her.

Of course, Hunter didn’t want to unload all these feelings
on Emmett, so instead he said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you; how did you know
that I knew Norabel?”

Emmett shrugged and looked down to his boots. “I heard
Fletcher teasing you.”

“Teasing me?”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged again.
“She’s your bowl maker.”

Hunter ran a hand through his hair and awkwardly cleared his
throat. “You didn’t tell her that, did you?”

Emmett shook his head. “Some things you have to tell a girl
yourself.” Then he flicked his head towards the crowd, saying, “Speaking of
which.”

Hunter followed his gaze and soon spotted Norabel walking
amidst a casual stream of villagers. Three of the guys that he had seen at her
house a few days ago were walking with her, but thankfully the girl called
Ashlin didn’t seem to be there.

“You should say hi,” Emmett suggested.

Hunter’s heart started on a rant. He wanted to say no, but
he immediately found himself relenting.

“Do you want to come?” he asked, hoping for some small
semblance of moral support.

“Nah,” Emmett shook his head. “You go ahead. I’ll cover your
spot for you.”

Hunter stepped away and was about to dive into the crowd
towards her, when he glanced back. He knew that Emmett held Norabel in high
regard, and opting to stay back was a selfless act of kindness towards him.

“Hey Emmett,” he called out. “Thanks.” He waited until the
young official nodded in understanding before he stepped into the crowd.

*

It was Logan that spotted Hunter first, giving Norabel a
gentle tap on her arm and saying, “I think someone’s coming to see you.”

At once her palms began to clam up in panic, and she stood up
on her tiptoes to look through the crowd. Sure enough, she could see Hunter
making his way over, politely excusing himself as he brushed past several
people. When Mason saw this as well, he took a step closer to Norabel, subtly
standing so his left arm was covering her right.

“Hunter,” Norabel said, speaking his name with a degree of
uncertainty. She was happy to see him, of course. She hadn’t seen him since he
had dropped her off at her house the morning of Auberon’s death. But she was
scared because she wasn’t sure if he was there to say goodbye.

“Norabel,” he greeted her, giving her a polite smile yet
still opting to remain a few safe feet away. Then, noticing the guys standing
on either side of her, he nodded to them, saying, “Hello.”

“I’m not quite sure how I feel about cohorting with a Pax,”
Archer said, narrowing his eyes on Hunter.

“We aren’t
cohorting
,” Mason said, his jaw pulled
taut as he spoke. “He’s just choosing not to turn us in.”

“And betraying my uncle in the process,” Hunter added in
defense.

“Who’s your uncle?” Logan asked politely.

He tweaked his head, admitting, “Chief Lorcan.”

“You failed to mention that bit of information!” Archer
exclaimed.

“Does it matter?” Hunter said. “As long as I keep my mouth
shut?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it here on the streets,”
Logan suggested, keeping a careful eye on the villagers standing nearby.

Hunter nodded in agreement. “I should be going anyway. I
just came to say…”

He trailed off as his eyes met Norabel’s. She felt her face
flush as she waited for him to continue.

“The guys wanted me to thank you for saving their lives.
They’ve been calling you their Albatross.”

She stared down at the pattern of her dress, her heart
thundering in her throat.

“You-you didn’t tell them that I’m,” she said, flustered,
“That I’m part of…”

“No. I didn’t tell them.”

Norabel furrowed her brow in discomfort. “I feel like I
betrayed you all. Keeping secrets from you when all you were doing was trying
to be my friend.”

She nearly gasped when she felt a gentle hand on her chin.
She allowed her face to be tilted upwards as Hunter looked down on her.

“You didn’t betray us when you plunged into that Black
Smoke. You could have just left us, but you didn’t.” He took his hand away, but
he left behind a fast beating heart. “So, if you don’t mind keeping my
friendship, I’d like to keep yours.”

She nodded mutely, and as he bid her a goodbye, Norabel
found she only had the energy to give a weak wave of her hand before he
disappeared into the crowd.

“I still can’t believe you risked your life to save a room
full of pox,” Archer commented, disgusted.

She hardly registered his words as she was still staring at
the spot Hunter had been a few moments ago. She knew that things wouldn’t go
back to normal between them; she could see that Hunter was still nursing some
hurt feelings, but what he had said gave her hope.

“They weren’t the pox,” Logan defended, “They were her
friends. We won’t get far in this revolution if we don’t see the potential for
friendship in unlikely sources.”

Norabel spun around to face him, and he gave her a smile.
She was glad that at least someone understood her.

“Speaking of unlikely sources!” Archer exclaimed, starting
to walk forward on the road. “Did you guys see that street vendor with the
trout with two heads?”

“Archer, what does that have to do with unlikely sources?”
Mason asked. He was slowly walking next to Norabel, just an accidental
arm-brush away.

“Well, it
was
an unlikely change in conversation,”
Norabel pointed out.

“Thank you!” Archer said, walking backwards so he could face
them. “See, she understands where I’m coming from.”

“Unlikely,” Logan mumbled in jest.

Archer shoved him in the arm. “So, did you guys see it?” he
asked again.

“Yeah,” Logan responded dryly, “I make a point of keeping
track of all fish-head related news in this village.”

“How do you think my brother became so knowledgeable?” Mason
joked.

“I only mentioned it cause I’m the one that caught it,”
Archer announced proudly.

“Oh!” Logan cut in. “So what you’re saying is, you don’t
care if we saw it or not, you just wanted to gloat!”

Archer smiled, saying, “Yeah, now you’re getting it!”

Norabel laughed softly and looked up at her friends. The sun
shone behind their heads and cast long shadows in front of them. In the
distance, brewing among the rocky cliffs of Breccan, were the clouds of an
incoming summer thunderstorm. Raising her fingers above her eyes, she waved to
the sky and smiled as she wondered what they might do with their few hours in
the sun before the turmoil of the storm forced them back into darkness once
more.