Shadow Lands (12 page)

She spun to her clothing, pulling them on hastily but making sure she made no sound. Cayan stood quickly, doing the same. She armed herself with what she had, then picked up the coil of vines. Loose rocks went into each pocket padded with wet leaves so they wouldn’t make a sound. She loaded Cayan’s pockets the same way. The extra weight was unfortunate, but they might be useful.

With a hand to his large shoulder, she applied just enough pressure to get him to bend toward her. He prepared for a kiss. She rolled her eyes and nudged his chin away so she could get her lips near his ear and whisper, “There’s something out there. If it’s an animal, we’ll probably do enough to scare it away with loud noises. We’ll need to stay upwind of it though, in case running would be best. If human, they are experts at stalking. I doubt Rohnan could be quieter. We’ll distract them with the rocks before bursting down on them, either killing them, or…” She bit her lip and backed away. She had no idea what to do in that situation. Bonk them on the head? Say, “Gotcha!” and expect everyone to put their weapons down? Her shrug was probably lost to the dark, as was the nod she could feel him make.

Their merged
Gifts
were proving beneficial in these trials.

She started off to the right as fast as possible, still making no sound. Cayan stayed right behind her, trusting her judgment, and equally silent. They circled around until their scent was behind the faint sounds coming from fifteen paces away.

Suddenly, the sounds stopped.

Shanti and Cayan stopped, too.

The rain faded into the background again. Nothingness filled in the space in its wake. No movement. No sound.

It couldn’t be an animal. She would hear snuffing if it had caught wind of something. Usually only a deer would stay still this long, and the sounds she’d heard were not from hooves.

It was human.

The question became, was it Inkna or Shadow? Either way might be death.

She let a thrill of fear alert Cayan to what she suspected. She felt a soft hand on her shoulder, and then he pulled away, walking ahead of her. She watched him for a moment, his large form somehow graceful in its stealth, not moving like a man with that much bulk should. He would get behind as she came in from the side. Smart.

She wished she had her sword.

Another faint footfall came from their prey. She didn’t hear Cayan at all.

Keeping her breath even and deep, to keep her brain rich in oxygen, she waited until she felt a thrill of anticipation—Cayan was in position.

Balanced and patient, she stepped forward. With the fog and darkness, visibility was down to about four paces in any direction. Trunks loomed and then edged into sight. Branches made strange shapes in the fog until she could identify them. Jagged rocks, unseen, pressed against the soles of her shoes. Slowly, methodically, she closed in until those tiny movements, careful but vague, sounded just beyond her.

Movement assaulted her perception, raising goosebumps along her body and trying to amp up her heart’s rhythm. A few people, not just one, moved in the night. Creeping. Stalking. Intending to catch their prey unaware.

A twig snapped. Sound halted.

Cayan’s presence loomed off to Shanti’s right. Stationary.

Anticipation started to rise in both her and Cayan.

She heard the sound of skin grazing fabric, she was sure of it. Which meant someone was lifting an arm or turning a neck.

A warning blast came from Cayan as she felt it herself. Suddenly, the night was action.

Someone rushed directly at her through the wall of black. A sword caught the moonlight, high in the air. She ducked around a tree as it fell, barely getting out of the way. She ran around the tree, sensing someone else coming her way. A sword clashed near Cayan.

She stepped in with quick hands, catching someone running by. Blonde hair streaked by, barely visible, but black camouflaged the body. Shanti swung her arm toward the chest, squishing against breast—had to be Shadow.
Don’t kill!

With her knife, she lightly jabbed the person in the neck, only enough to break skin. With an intake of breath, the person dropped. Shanti’s heart beat wildly in her chest, fearing she’d jabbed too hard, until she saw the woman kneeling. Out of the fight.

Her inner sirens went off. She ducked and moved as a blade swung past her head. She turned and struck out with the handle of her knife. The body moved to the side easily and countered. Her fingers locked around his wrist as she turned, yanking him with her. She pummeled him in the stomach with the hilts of her knives before bending and jabbing the inside of his thigh. As he dropped down to one knee she spun away and met Cayan.

“Oh. You didn’t knock them out?” He glanced down at the woman on her knee. “That won’t make me popular.”

“How many did you have?” she asked, stepping away from the two she’d taken down with an imaginary kill.

“Just the one. I saw you with the man but figured you had it.”

“We expected to amuse you.” The woman stood and wiped at her neck.

“Amuse us?” Shanti asked in confusion.

“Ambush, she means.” The man stood too, coming forward until he stood in a patch of glowing moonlight. He glanced up at the sky and then in the direction Cayan came from. A foot was sticking out of a shadow, toe pointed at the sky.

“Shall we go back to your fire? We can see each other better and Patross can wake up. I don’t want to have to carry him back.” The man gestured Shanti toward her shelter.

“I guess.” She stepped to the side, wary that her attackers now wanted to have a chat and pretend they were friends. Cayan stepped between her and the man, obviously thinking the same thing. It was impossible to say when the trials began and ended. They could easily be getting her to let down her guard so they could try something else.

When they got back to the shelter, Shanti stoked the fire with Cayan standing over her. His body was relaxed, but his readiness for an attack was evident with the way his hand stayed on his sword and his weight on the balls of his feet.

“The fight is done,” the man said, sitting down on the wet ground before the fire. The woman joined him, sitting cross-legged and staring across at Shanti.

As the flame leapt, eating the new fuel, light began to dance across the features of those sitting in front of her. The man was slight of frame, lending to his quickness and agility, with light brown hair and sharp cheekbones. The woman had dirty blonde hair and calculating eyes. Neither seemed to mind that their butt was wet and would soon be cold.

“You are violet-eyed girl?” the woman asked, her gaze spearing Shanti’s.

“Yes. A large release of power at five years old burned my irises.” Shanti sat on her tarp. Cayan sat beside her.

The woman’s sharp gaze drifted to Cayan. “And you are mate?”

“No,” Shanti said, a little too quickly. “He’s the Captain and leader of the Westwood Lands. His men are currently housed in your city.”

“Power mate, I mean,” the woman clarified.

Thankfully the darkness hid Shanti’s blush. “Yes. He’s my power’s mate, yes.”

That gaze moved back to Shanti, watching in silence for a moment as the man said, “Excuse us—where are our manners? I am Baos, and this is Jessta. We often lead trainings for stalking others unseen. Tell me: how were you able to spot us?”

“She has run from Graygual from west to east, Baos. Use your head,” Jessta said, eyes back on Cayan. “How you find this man? Why he pledge to you?”

“She is our best hope of defeating the Graygual,” Cayan said easily. “When I recognized that, I joined her cause.”

“But you lead army?” Jessta pushed.

“It is his army and he leads it,” Shanti answered, shifting to try and ease off her wounds. The scabs pulled at her skin, ripped in some places and oozed into the bandage.

“You have big army? Many friend-army?” Jessta asked.

“Is this an interview to see what you can gain from merging with us, or a means to decide if killing us will increase the threat to your lands?” Cayan asked. His voice was even and diplomatic, but an edge sharpened his words.

Baos must’ve heard it, because he grimaced. “Please bear with Jessta—she is very direct. And yes, this is an interview of sorts, as well as part of your trial. We’ve never actually given it before. No one has made it past our attack in the darkness, so an exchange of words has never been necessary—we knocked them out instead of sitting by their fire.”

“So someone has made it this far?” Shanti inquired.

A smile ghosted Baos’ lips. “Not in the way you have. We have not killed them, but they have not succeeded through the trials. It sounds monstrous, letting hopefuls keep their hope alive while they continue through the trials, but they are always good practice. And since they seek something from us, we feel justified in getting something from them.”

“No argument there,” Shanti said, adding a log to the climbing flames.

“I have a small army compared to the Graygual—easily overrun,” Cayan answered. “I have many allies, each with their own armies. Together we are a decent force, but we don’t have any mind-workers. Without Shanti, and you, we would be easily taken down. I have a lot of power, but I don’t know its use, and I wouldn’t be nearly enough.”

“Your men well-trained. Very loyal.” Jessta shifted her gaze to Shanti. “You need him for army, he need you for
Therma
. But he not here for us, he here for you. Why you here for us when you have his army already?”

“Because this is my duty. Following your rules, making it through the trials, and merging my people with our distant kin has been put on my shoulders since a very young age. It’s why I survived the last Graygual battle. My duty was to run like a coward—to escape death. To let all my people die so I could live. Here I am, doing what I’m supposed to do.”

“To run is no coward. To stay and die is coward,” Jessta said, her gaze boring into Shanti as the light danced up her severe face. “Die is easier. Hurt less. You live in fires of underworld now, yes? You in pain, you hurt—” Jessta balled her fists up near her chest to accent her words. “But you no dead yet. To live with that pain—” she shook her head and blew out a noisy breath. “That hard. Too hard for many. Might break me. But here you are. Is necessary, your journey. You can survive us. You have him,” she nodded to Cayan, “We should brought more tonight, to make harder, but rules say three.” She shrugged. “We bring three.”

“Did you hear us?” Baos asked.

“Felt you, more like,” Shanti said, thinking back. “When you’re hunted, as Jessta alluded to, you learn a sixth sense. Usually it’s my
Gift
that picks it up, but my body is in tune with what’s out there even when my
Gift
isn’t available.”

They heard footsteps through the trees. Jessta looked behind her as their third member trudged into the ring of light from the fire with his hand on his temple. A dribble of blood made a track down his neck. Jessta turned to Baos with a smile. “I glad I choose girl.”

Baos laughed and stood, prompting Jessta to stand with him. He looked down on Cayan, “Your men have saved a few of ours. They are clear what side they are on, look after each other, and are loyal to you. This is inspiring. It shows good leadership, and proof of good leadership was a requirement. I was hesitant about the two of you working together in this—it smacked of favoritism, allowing it. But one of the trials has been met by you, Cayan. Solely by you. Some have been met solely by Shanti. And many you are beating together. We always wondered what kind of person could possibly fulfill all the requirements… and now we know.
Joining
made you one entity—bonded you in
Therma
. Now we know.”

“A hidie-ho might have been nice,” Jessta said, shaking her head. “All the old parchment, and the rules, and all this. Nothing ever mention two candidates. We not plan for two. Bad joke.”

Baos turned toward the man still holding his head. “Let’s go and let them get back to sleep. They have another day tomorrow.”

“We all have another day tomorrow,” the third man said, glancing at Cayan and then Shanti. “Watch yourself in here. The Graygual army has grown. And you are not immune.”

“It is you that are not immune. From me.” Shanti folded her hands in her lap. “I have always been the target. And so has everyone in my wake.”

“The entire land is target, violet-eyed girl. You are the hope that we do not succumb.” Jessta nodded and walked out of the firelight. Baos winked before following. The third man wasn’t far behind.

“Well. Another one down.” Cayan pushed back into the shelter. “We’d best get an early start. I heard panic in their words. The Graygual are getting ready to make their move.”

A thrill went through Shanti. “They’ll move all their people in place, and then they’ll strike. The Shadow seem to be preparing to resist their rule, which is good for us.”

“Yes. But that might not matter, depending on the numbers.”

“Killjoy.” Shanti pushed back and lay down, snuggling into Cayan’s body. His arm came around her and pulled her in tight.

He said, “How are your wounds now?”

“I’ll need to change the bandages tomorrow, but I’m used to the ache.”

Shivers let her mind drift, thinking about what would come. The Shadow had tried to sneak up on her twice, once in daylight, once at night. They’d tried a beast, they’d spoken to her, and they’d forced her to live in the wild. Now they would most likely hit her with a few battles, and a few things involving her
Gift.
All that she could survive. Those were things she excelled at.

Her worries consisted of the trials she couldn’t see—like the leadership, or whatever else they were looking for. For those she had to trust to the Elder’s guidance, and hope it was enough. That, and that her body would last before infection found its way into her wounds.

P
ortolmous walked
through the square on the way to the Shadow Lord’s office to discuss various events taking place in the city. With the Graygual gathering at alarming rates, the city needed to make some serious decisions and prepare for the inevitable.

As he walked, preoccupied, he noticed someone collaspe in a group of black-clad men.

A Graygual tripped and skidded to his knees. Rather than getting right up, though, he stayed down for a moment. His hand drifted to his stomach and he let out a loud moan. Another Graygual kicked the downed man with a boot, asking a harsh question. The man on the ground shook his head and tried to climb to his feet, but staggered again. Another loud moan carried across the square.

“Another,” one of the guards said, standing at the end of the trader stalls lining the large declaration platform at the head of the square.

Portolmous turned to his man, a younger guard new to the post—one of the many taken from training to police the growing restlessness within the city. “What was that?”

“We’ve seen this all over the city today. Graygual and Inkna are faltering like that. It looks like a malady of some kind, but so far it’s only affecting those two groups and two nobles. Nasty nobles, at that. But then, the Graygual really only keep to themselves, so someone probably brought something over and they are now spreading it around.”

“Is it serious?” Portolmous asked as the man on the ground vomited. His army gathered around, none of them reaching down to help.

“Yes. I’ve not heard of anyone surviving it.”

Portolmous looked at his guard in surprise. “Surviving? You mean this is killing them?”

“Yes, sir. Dropping them just like this.”

“Poison, then.”

The guard crinkled his eyebrows. “Could be, but those affected are spread out all over. They don’t really keep the same company. I mean… they do, but I’ve heard mutterings that only a few have even been in the same room lately. The rest are on different schedules.”

It was Portolmous’ turn to crinkle his eyebrows as he moved on. He thought of the known poison-workers in the city, all of them sneaky, all looking for monetary gain. The Graygual had been reported as the biggest employers, aiming their assault at the contingent from the Westwood Lands.

So far, all had failed. The young woman with them had saved at least three so far, one of them from the brink of death. She appeared to be a healer, which had surprised many. When they’d first come, many of the Shadow people had thought the Westwood Isles men had brought a pretty, young woman to share. If that wasn’t bad enough, they segregated her from the group when in public, making her stand to one side when the rest of the men sat and ate or drank.

As Portolmous left the square, he understood exactly what was going on. The Captain had come prepared, and had chosen someone no one would suspect to do the secretive, dirty work. Those men trusted her with their lives. They’d given her freedom to come and go where she would, while the rest were given commands as usual. It spoke highly of their unity and organization, especially since many in the mainland didn’t allow females into their military units.

The Westwood Isles men continued to surprise him. The young woman was thinning the enemy’s herd, and not a moment too soon.