Shadow Lands (14 page)

“No more are coming,” Shanti said in assurance. “I don’t know if they were part of a test, but their not returning alone will answer certain questions. The next group will not fail.”

Sonson squinted into Shanti’s face. “You know him well, this tyrant. Or at least you think you do.”

“I think I do, yes. Who knows how he has changed over the year since I’ve been running for my life, but I know his
way
.”

Sonson’s mouth turned into a thinking duckbill as he nodded. “Sounds reasonable. Okay, let’s get you to shelter where we can play medicine.” He winked.

T
wo hours later
, Shanti was lying on her stomach on a bed of soft animal fur the Shadow people brought. A vile-smelling salve covered her wounds and a fire roared by her side. Cayan sat a few paces away with Sonson, giving her space. Shadow people cleaned and skinned animals they’d recently brought back for a large supper.

“I can’t imagine you treat all your guests like this?” Shanti asked as she rested her chin on her hands.

“We would, if any made it this far. I have your next instructions.” Sonson looked to one of the people skinning. The woman rose, wiping her hands down her pants before pulling a piece of parchment from her back pocket. She approached Shanti, hesitating as her gaze scanned the wounds, and then handed it to Cayan instead.

Cayan glanced at the document. “You’re showing us the way to the end?”

“Yes.” Sonson folded his hands in his lap. “You’ll need to cross some perilous land to get there. If we don’t direct you, you might accidentally wander around that area and miss the trial entirely. The animals in that strip of land are not pets.”

“Have your people been through it?” Cayan asked, setting the parchment to the side.

“Some. To become a leader of one of our factions, you need to make it through that land. If you do not aspire to be a leader, you will never be burdened. We’ve lost many teenagers trying to prove a point or show their worth. Bravery, they call it. Children are stupid, and young boys most of all. I have a feeling the hopeful-Chosen would have found her way down there…”

“It’s a certainty.” Shanti smiled. “I was more stupid than any boy, though I called it bravery. Rohnan, my brother, called it boredom.”

Sonson glanced at Cayan in expectation. He raised his eyebrows in response.

“You’re not going to rise to the bait?” Sonson asked, a smile tugging at his lips. “Not going to say she’s still more stupid than any boy…?”

“He doesn’t have a lot of humor when the people trying to kill him are hanging around,” Shanti laughed, shifting her legs to get more comfortable.

“When do you advise we get moving?” Cayan asked, proving Shanti’s point.

Sonson regained his seriousness. The sparkle of humor in his eyes turned into the gleam of viciousness. “Usually we allow the hopeful-Chosen to dictate his—or her—own pace. But we do not have that luxury in this case. You need to start tomorrow, early. You are being hunted, it seems, by someone besides us. Have no fear. That salve is created with a special blend of ingredients from this wood. It’ll help you heal quickly, though you’ll still be at a disadvantage. If you make it through, you’ll have earned the right to lead our army.”

“I don’t want your army,” Shanti said, the press of her duty settling heavy on her shoulders. “I need your support. I need you with us. You and he need to lead your people, while working with me to lead…”

“The lost,” a woman arranging a spit over the fire said, without looking up. “The lost, the weary, the distraught, and the voiceless. You’ll lead more than any other battle commander, and you will help them triumph and restore justice for all.”

The fire crackled loudly in the silence that followed. The woman glanced up and saw all eyes focused her way, turning her face red. “Forgive me. As well as trying to kill you, I am also on the committee to determine if you are the rightful Chosen. I’ve studied many of the doctrines. They rub off.”

“She’s the life of any party,” Sonson said, laughing.

They spent the rest of the evening chatting quietly and eating, speaking little of the mainland and the strife going on there. Shanti told of her journey, making the group solemn and quiet as they learned what had been entailed in reaching them. Cayan shared a little about his city, laughing as Shanti filled them in about the extreme lack of taste in art.

When the sun left the sky and everyone sat around with full bellies, Sonson rose. He winked down at Shanti before shaking Cayan’s hand. “I would have liked to have fought you. I think it would’ve been impressive entertainment. I would rather you live, of course, so be careful tomorrow. A few hours’ hike will get you to the next trial, and then keep your eyes open. Nothing is as it seems, and strange forces on this island can confuse the brain. We’ll be ready to fight you on the other side.”

“Sir—” a man stepped forward holding Shanti’s sword and a pack.

“Yes, of course.” Sonson took them and placed them next to Shanti on the furs. “The trickery is mostly mental, but as I said, there are some aggressive animals in that area of this island. You’ll need your sword and a few supplies.”

“Thank you for your treatment,” Shanti said in all seriousness. “I didn’t expect this kindness in these trials. I thought I would find the Inkna-Chosen, kill him, then meet my death.”

“You may meet that Inkna-Chosen yet,” Sonson said with the vicious twinkle to his eyes again. “But I hope to find him first. He and his leader are making a mockery of my trials and it does not sit well.” Sonson nodded at her, and then glanced at Cayan. “Good luck.”

When they’d gone, drifting into the trees and fog like phantoms, Cayan moved to sit beside her. He brushed her hair back from her face as he stared at the fire. In a quiet voice, he said, “I can’t help feeling nervous about what we’ll face. It’s different than facing an army. I know men—I know the way they think and the way they lead. But nature is unpredictable, at best, and… I don’t need any help confusing my mind.”

“If their leaders can make it through, we can make it through, Cayan,” Shanti said, closing her eyes as his fingers wound through her hair. “
Men
are unpredictable at the best of times, led by emotions they often have no control over. Nature is brutal but beautiful—it gives more than it rips away. We have to read her motives, and steer clear of her cleansing. We’ll be fine.”

Shanti almost believed it.

S
hanti stepped
over a patch of weed with long, spiky thorns. Tree branches reached, just as before, and the rain drifted down from the sky in a soft caress, but land was quickly running out. Shanti took no more than ten paces and pushed back her hood, looking down a steep slide that ended in huge and jagged rocks at the bottom of a deep ravine.

“We need to find a way across,” Cayan said from beside her. He glanced straight ahead and then off to the right.

Shanti did the same. The far side, crammed with trees huddled close together and strewn with hanging vines, was at least twenty-five paces away. The depth of the ravine was twice that. The winding, tree-choked edge appeared to go on forever before disappearing into the white mass of rolling, shifting fog.

Shanti wiped her face. They’d been walking at a pace that could almost have been called a jog since first light, pausing every now and then to consult the map. They’d believed Sonson when he said they were running out of time—his mind had been laced with anxiety. Cayan worried for his people. If the Graygual were sending people into the trials after her, they were certainly sending people into the city to eliminate any support she might have.

“Right or left?” Shanti asked, glancing at the parchment in Cayan’s hands.

He handed her one side and traced his finger along a red line that marked the path they’d been following. The red line stopped where they were and met a blue line running along the edge. Cayan followed it to the left until it once again went north, and then glanced right, finally tapping the line on the right side. “This is the fastest way. Which also means it is probably the most deadly.”

“Do we have time to play it safe?”

Cayan took the map and folded it. He tucked it into his makeshift pack and looked up at the sky, eyes fluttering in the drizzle. “On one hand, the Shadow people now know the kind of enemy they face. They’ll expect an attack by the Graygual on my people. Within the city, they’ll make sure they’re there to stop any bloodshed. Sanders will run at an adversary without flinching at impossible odds, but he’s no fool, and I trust he has control of those under him. He’ll keep within sight of the Shadow so he can’t be overwhelmed, and Daniels will make sure they aren’t ambushed.”

“And on the other hand?”

Cayan shifted before wiping his face. He turned to Shanti with troubled blue eyes. “On the other hand, Sonson didn’t think we had much time. Not
we
, you and me.
We
—all of us. His body language was confident. He thought we’d make it through this. I bet he’s counting on us to help fight what’s coming. Which means it’s coming rapidly. We’re just two, but we have the power of six or more.”

“Of eighteen or more Inkna.”

Cayan’s lips tweaked, but he didn’t smile. Instead, he looked beyond her down the edge. “We’ve not shirked from a challenge so far…”

“I like challenges,” she said in a dry voice. “I get suspicious when things are too easy.”

“How are your wounds?”

“Amazingly not bothering me.” Shanti slipped through the trees, pulling up her hood as the drops turned heavy. “They have excellent healers.”

“As soon as we kill all the Graygual, we’ll have to get Marc talking with them. Hopefully they have lots of patience.”

“Or are willing to kick him in the head to make him pay attention.”

“Or that… yes.”

They walked in silence for a while, careful not to touch any hanging vines or stumble into any unidentified plants with needles. There was no telling what might be dangerous here. After half an hour, as the sun was approaching its zenith, Shanti caught sight of a long, narrow bridge leading across the large gap in the land. She stepped toward the ledge and exhaled out a “
Flak.
”

Cayan stepped with her. He let out a breath too.

The bridge was nothing more than a large tree slit down the middle, laying from one side to the other. The top was flat, mostly; but shiny with wet, probably slippery, and half rotted in parts.

“How much more than Sonson would you say I weigh?” Cayan asked in a low voice.

“You’re taller by a head, much more robust, and solid muscle—at least two stone. You outweigh him by a lot.” Shanti started untying the rope from around her middle. “And now we know why he gave us very strong rope.”

“Let’s hope he also gave us very long rope.”

“Yes.” Shanti started forward again, heart starting to beat more rapidly. When they got to the edge of the log, once a great thing but now a brittle remnant of what it once was, Shanti hesitated.

The world fell away. Straight down on both sides of the edge, the ground below was so distant it was hard to see through the fog. Falling would mean certain death.

She leaned forward to touch the wood, turned deep brown from years of being exposed to the elements. As she suspected, the top was slick. At the base it was twice as wide as her body, but as it neared the middle it slimmed down. A sudden gust of wind and she’d be falling. When she reached the end of the rope, she’d be yanked back toward the side and dashed across the rock face.

Shanti looked behind them, seeing the old and weathered stump that this log originally came from. The sides were cut. This bridge had been planned.

“There are big trees everywhere—why choose a place where falling would mean grave injury even with a rope?”

She rolled her eyes at her statement. This was a rite of passage and the Shadow were a hard people—failure to them meant death for themselves, or others.

“We’ll be fine,
mesasha
.” Cayan’s fingers stroked the side of her face as he took the rope. “You’re light on your feet and have excellent balance. You’ll be across in no time.”

“And then you will break the log halfway through.”

“Yes, but that side has a little grass growing on it. Soft landing.”

“The grass is growing out of the gaps in rock, Cayan…”

“Better than no grass. Come on, let’s get ready.”

With a tightness in her chest, Shanti tied the end of the rope around her middle using a sturdy knot. Cayan took the other side and tied it to a tree. She edged out onto the log and jumped a little, seeing if it would hold her weight. The log didn’t even wobble.
Good sign.

“Wish me luck,” she said, walking out a little ways.

“You don’t need it. Get a move on.”

Shanti smiled at Cayan’s light tone, ignoring the anxiety bleeding through his emotions. She walked out further, feeling the breeze ruffle her hair. And then feeling the
other
breeze—the one ruffling the edges of her pants. She knew better than to look down. Looking down only made things much worse—

Death’s playground, is there a bottom to that ravine?

Shanti yanked her gaze straight-ahead and steadied herself, stilling her suddenly wobbly stomach. Arms out to the side, she walked forward like she might with a sword in her hand. Balance was easy. Steady feet and a sure step were simple. Controlling her raging fear of falling to her death took a little concentration however.

One foot in front of the other, she made her way out to the middle. The log below her feet narrowed, crowding her steps. The wind kicked up a little, enough to gently push her body. The log wobbled.

“I have movement out here,” Shanti said, passing the center of the now-swaying log.

“Just keep your focus,” Cayan called out to her.

“That wasn’t what I meant,” she muttered, taking another step. The wood creaked, bending under her weight. A small swirl of wind slapped at her side. Her balance teetered for just a moment. A thrill went through her, sending shooting shivers through her body. Her fingers tingled, thinking of the height. Thinking of falling.

“Steady,” Shanti whispered, her gaze boring into the trunk of a large tree at the other side.

She placed another foot. The creak sounded again, followed by a groan. This log only had so much to give, and she was stressing it.
Best to get off before I use up all its goodwill.

Shanti walked faster now, letting her mind go blank. Thinking of an enemy. Thinking of having a knife in her hand. Remembering her training. Her body steadied, ignoring another gust of wind slapping her. Salty air whipped by her face. The log whined as she sped up, stepping as light and balanced as possible. The creaks got louder. Something popped. The wood wobbled.

Her heart hammered in that way that meant danger was on her heels, but she kept going. She tasted salt, reminded of home. The smell of kelp drifted on the breeze—they must be near the sea. She clutched at the memory as her feet moved across the last of the log. She had reached the other side!

At the other end, she noticed the rope was barely dragging across the log. They’d given them just enough rope to cross this bridge. Either they knew she’d take this way, or the other way had something similar.

She untied the rope and fastened it to the nearest tree. On the other side of the bridge, Cayan had fastened his rope to his waist and was already walking out onto the log.

Shanti’s heart started hammering again. Her chest felt tight and her toes tingled. She was terrified something would happen to him. That he would fall to his death and she would be left without him. She couldn’t lose another one. She couldn’t lose
this
one.

She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Maybe there’s another way!”

Confidence welled up inside her, fed to her by Cayan from their merge. And then another emotion, one infinitely more tender. One that implied the term
mesasha.

“Damn him,” she breathed, heart thundering for a different reason—one that liked hearing that word on his lips.

She stepped near the edge as though she’d catch him if he fell.

He stepped out onto the log further and did a little jump as she had done. A soft few cracks whispered from the center of the wood. “Why do you have to be such a big bastard, Cayan?” she muttered, intent on his movement.

He stepped out a bit farther and tried again. More creaks, more ominous.

“Get on with it!” she yelled. She couldn’t help herself. This is why she didn’t want to care—it was very unpleasant when something bad was sure to happen.

Taking a deep breath, Shanti watched as Cayan started walking across the log as though sauntering through a park. Not slow, but not rushed, he strolled out along the groaning, creaking wood.

“Elders, please don’t let him fall. Please don’t take this man away from me,”
she begged, running back to the tree and shortening the rope as he moved across.

A loud pop shot out. Cayan took three more steps. He was now halfway. Another loud pop, followed by a crack.

“Hurry, Cayan!”
she yelled, not realizing she used the language of her home.

He sped up, though. Cracks and pops sounded with each step, leading into a loud groan as he made it three-fourths of the way across. She tied off more rope as she yelled, “Almost there, baby! A little bit more!”

Wood squealed and strained. It was breaking. The whole thing was breaking. With a chorus of horror, the log splintered and tore, weightless for one moment before gravity took hold of it.

Cayan started to sprint. Shanti didn’t have time to tie off more rope. She grabbed it in both hands and backpedaled as fast as she could. His hands pumped, muscles moving like a master fighter, until the log started to swing downward. Then he jumped.

Breath held, Shanti spun within the rope until it was wrapped around her, braced her feet against a big trunk, and then held on. Cayan’s body disappeared from her sight as the rope yanked at her grip, burning away a layer of skin from her palms. The coil around her middle jerked taut. Rope squeezed the breath out of her, making lights dance in her vision. Pain blasted through her body. It felt like her intestines were trying to squish out of her. The rope tried to spin her around but she held on, digging in her heels, barely able to breathe.

Be okay, Cayan. Climb back up.

She held on as the pain dug into her. Giving him time to be okay. Giving him time to crawl up the rock face and make it over before she had to unwind the rope and see what lay at the end of it.

Seconds ticked by. Fog dusted her face. Worry brought moisture to her eyes. “Cayan?”

Please be okay… Please, Elders, don’t make me responsible for another one.
Please!

“Cayan?” she called again. More seconds of silence, dragging by into minutes. Still there was no movement.

A tear overflowed, but she did not yield. Not yet. The man could work miracles. He could do the unimaginable. He was created by the Elders for great things. It would take more than a battering against rock to take him out.

Another tear fell as the pain tore at her. As the rope continued to cut off her breath. Her hands throbbed in agony. Still she held on, now too afraid of what it might mean if she let go.

The rope jerked.

A half-breath, bordering on a sob, ripped from her throat.

The rope jerked again.

Oh thank the Elders!

“Are you okay?” she squeaked. She didn’t have the breath to yell.

The rope tugged again, tearing a moan from her throat as the pain cinched around her waist. And then the weight was gone.

“Cayan?” she called, tears coming to her eyes again, this time in relief. Sanders was right—she did cry too much. She’d never noticed.

But as he appeared between the trees with a fantastic welt on the side of his head, and his left side all scraped, she couldn’t help the flood of relief drowning her eyes. She dropped the rope, spun to get it off, and ran at him. He spread his arms right before she barreled into his body and yanked his head down for a deep kiss.

“Takes more than a rock face to kill me,
mesasha
,” he said as he smiled down on her.

“You scared the shit out of me!” she said, afraid to let go of his body.

“Is this all I needed to get you to show you liked me? Almost die?”

She laughed and kissed him again until it curled her toes and spread warmth through her body. When she backed away, seriously considering fighting the pain so as to make love to him, he noticed her coat. His eyes traced the indents before his gaze hit hers again. Then he grabbed her hands, seeing the burn marks from the rope.