Shadow Lands (15 page)

“I wondered how you held me,” he said softly, glancing around. “We need to treat these hands.”

“What about you? We should clean those wounds.”

Cayan glanced at his skin through his ripped jacket. “Nah. I’m fine.”

“Just like a man. C’mon. We’ll play doctor naked and have some lunch before we move on.”

L
ater that evening
they were walking again, checking the map every so often as they threaded through the thick undergrowth. While there was a narrow path, it was overgrown. People clearly didn’t come this way often.

“So…” Cayan’s voice seemed to drop dead in the trees around them. “Baby?”

Shanti was thankful she was in front—he couldn’t see the redness creep into her face. “You heard that, huh?”

“Mhm. I didn’t realize you were into pet names. What else are you into?”

Shanti’s face burned. “Torture. You can be my first subject.”

“Sounds fun.”

“That wasn’t sexual.”

“Are you sure?”

A sparkle of light appeared to their right, thankfully distracting Shanti from the topic, then claiming all of her focus.

She slowed, captivated by the shifting colors of pinks and purples lighting up the darkening forest.

“What’s that?” she asked. Her voice seemed to echo in the distance.

Her
Gift
sparked as the lights started to pulse playfully. They called her closer with their light show. “So beautiful,” she sighed, smiling as a delicious fizz crawled up her middle.

She stepped off the path, drunk with the sweet feeling created by those twinkling, pulsing lights. A soft melody sang to her. Everlasting joy filled her, making her laugh.

Her feet moved of their own accord, wanting to get closer. Wanting to follow those lights.

“What’s going on?”

Cayan’s words barely registered. A heavy grip circled her arm. She staggered backwards, pulled by something ugly and disgusting.

“Let go!” She struggled, twisting to try and escape the strong arms now wrapping around her chest, pinning her arms to her sides.

“Shanti, what’s happening?”

Shanti couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from those colors, beckoning her closer. “Don’t you see it? Don’t you
feel
it? Let me go!”

“I feel you responding to something, but I don’t see anything…”

The colors shifted and danced, twenty paces away through the trees. The singing grew louder, calling her. Begging her to come and play. Her
Gift
danced, knowing that following it was the right thing to do.

She tried to walk forward, confused as to why her body wouldn’t obey. Her eyes stayed rooted to those beautiful, dancing colors.

Firm fingers wrapped around her chin and dragged her face away. She scowled as confused eyes swam before her. Her mind swirled in dizziness.

Suddenly, it all cleared. Reality came rushing back, and with it bile rising up from a swirling stomach.

“Let me go—I’m going to throw up,” Shanti grunted, pulling to the side. Staggering a few paces in the opposite direction she’d been trying to go, she bent over and retched, heaving up the contents of her stomach. Spitting, she paused for a moment, making sure it was over. When her stomach evened out she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and straightened up, breathing heavily.

“What’s happening?” he asked with an edge to his voice.

Shanti glanced out into the woods. There was nothing there. Her
Gift
had stabilized. Dimmed light from the failing day sprinkled through the canopy overhead in places, but was mostly reduced to a greenish glow, turning the ground a dark, murky green.

“What was that? What were those lights?” she asked, remembering the sweet joy. Feeling the horror of realizing she was the only one seeing it. It had all been in her head.

“The wood playing tricks, I’d imagine,” Cayan said in a calm voice, directing her along the path. “Best to keep going.”

“I wonder what would’ve happened if I had followed.”

“I don’t know, but we have a disadvantage being foreigners. Having grown up here, people would’ve heard about the strangeness of the wood. About the pockets without access to your mental powers, the animals—and whatever else there might be. How would a traveler know to distrust the lights?”

“Maybe the spell wavers…”

“Maybe.” Cayan’s hand didn’t leave her shoulder. “Or maybe you realize your error right after you step off a cliff. If they appear to me, and you can’t get me to come around, punch me in the balls. That should work.”

“As soon as I stopped looking at it, everything vanished,” Shanti said, threading her way along the path. Vines hid amid the tall grasses, grabbing her feet.

“This time.”

They continued as the wood pressed in on them, choked with high bushes and low vines between the trees. The air was moist and dank, with little air flowing through. A bird screeched before a flurry of wings and rustling leaves sounded.

Shanti’s skin prickled with a presence and a warning shiver covered her body.

“Something’s close,” Cayan said in a whisper.

Shanti took out her sword. Her
Gift
spread out as far as she could push it, but she felt no life. She hadn’t even felt that bird.

“Do you feel anything?” she asked in a quiet voice.

“No. But something is out there. We’re being hunted.”

S
anders filed
out of his room and met the rest of his men and woman in the hall. All wore newly purchased garments made of treated leather that they had seen the Shadow people wear. Two dead men lay face down only a few paces away, both wearing black.

“Graygual or Inkna?” Sanders asked, not bothering to look harder.

“Graygual. Tried to get the jump on Marc as he came out of his room.” Tobias clapped Marc on the back. “He reacted by shoving a knife in the guy’s throat, then running away.”

Sanders glanced at Marc, red-faced and looking at the ground. The youth said, “S’am always jumps out at us. If you don’t strike first, you get punched really hard.”

“And the running?” Sanders asked as he checked his weapons.

Marc shrugged. “I was always too slow to get her, so rather than getting thumped after I struck out, I ran.”

“Ruisa got the other one.” Tobias threw her a proud wink. “Who says girls are only for cooking?”

“Not me. She’s a terrible cook,” Marc mumbled. Ruisa shoved him.

Etherlan was up and moving around, pissed off and ready to kill the first person he saw. He was still a little weak, but he would make a full recovery. The whole group was damn glad.

Rohnan stood beside Burson, as far from everyone else as he could get. He was probably trying to block out whatever people were feeling, which Sanders figured was probably a mixture of fear and panic. They all knew they’d have to fight their way out to the main square, where the Shadow people would protect them, but then slip out to perform an extremely dangerous task.

They were going to try and poison the Graygual’s water supply.

Leilius had found a few places where the rainwater was captured for the Trespasser Village. From the large metal tank ran piping that fed a system of pumps in the Village.

Poison the inlet, poison the Graygual.

The plan seemed easy, but getting to that inlet meant sneaking through enemy occupation. If they succeeded, they would still only get about a third of the population—and that was if no one figured out where the sickness was coming from quickly.

Sanders had discussed the plan at length with Daniels, figured out a route and a way, and then talked it over with the more experienced of his men. It was risky, but with the overwhelming amount of Graygual on the island, they had to try and even the numbers somehow. The risk was worth it.

“Ready?” Sanders asked.

“Yes, sir,” everyone chorused.

Sanders started off at a brisk walk, seeing a couple more dead men as he passed Tobias’ quarters. A few more littered the hallway.

“The enemy has tried this before—they don’t learn.” Sanders took the stairs two at a time, hearing the thundering feet behind him.

“None are officers,” Daniels commented. “They were either thinking for themselves, or aiming for cheap shots.”

“Probably thinking for themselves. Succeeding, with even just one of us, would mean a step up onto the first rung of captaincy,” Rohnan explained as they stopped next to the door leading into the alleyway. “The first rung is still considered garbage by anyone who matters, but these men wouldn’t understand that. They are the worst society has to offer. Just a little power is enough to excite them.”

“Not any more. Ready?” Sanders glanced at those close, and then those stationed up the stairs, waiting. All nodded.

Sanders pushed through the door with his sword in the air. Daniels and Tobias filed out to either side, bows at the ready. Rohnan was right after.

An empty alleyway greeted them. Sanders saw the shapes at the mouth at either end, four of them in all, standing guard.

Sanders drifted to the right until he was close enough to two of the guards to be heard. Tobias still had his bow at the ready. Daniels had remained in the doorway, covering the other side. Everyone else filed in the middle.

“What are you doing here?” Sanders asked the nearest guard.

The man’s shoulders turned toward Sanders, but his features were lost to the night. “Keeping you alive. Our Battle Lord, Sonson, said it was necessary. He told me to let you know that your Captain and his mate, the hopeful-Chosen, are nearing the end of the trials. Stay alive until then.”

Sanders snorted. “His mate, huh? This Sonson is a bit mixed up. Is this a city-wide mandate, or will you be wandering out of the city limits?”

The guard glanced across the alleyway to the guard opposite, a woman by her stature, her face also lost to the shadows. She said, “I would not advise leaving the city.”

“Neither would I, but it has to be done.”

“Then we will go with you. I am Denessa.” She didn’t offer the names of the men with her.

“Sanders.” He didn’t offer any other names, either. There was no time for introductions.

He started forward, his men at his back. They stuck to the shadows and side streets, moving quietly. Graygual loitered around the city, some watching crowds with alert eyes, some staggering from drink, others playing dice against the walls.

“With you here, are we forbidden to kill Graygual within city walls?” Sanders asked in a low voice as he edged around a spill of light from a window. Ahead a group of Graygual were crouched down and playing their games. A woman was among them, breasts mostly hanging out of her top, a dopey smile on her face but with a sharpness in her eyes. She was playing a part, and she’d make off with all their money before the end of the night, Sanders was sure of it. The foreign women in this city that chose to be here were smart and cunning. They knew their game, and they knew what they could get away with.

Sanders applauded them for their business sense. There was more than one dirty job in the land, and he’d slogged through his fair share of shit to know better than to judge.

“There are many women of the night,” the Shadow woman in charge said quietly as they approached. “They’ve been arriving in large quantities over the last few days. We have reason to believe many enemy have died by their hand. I want these women left alive.”

“No argument there.” Sanders took out his knife and was surprised when the Shadow woman did the same. “Since when do you people pick sides?” he asked.

“Since they broke the laws of our land. They will all die, it is just a matter of when.”

Sanders felt a shiver from her impassive voice. She showed no anger toward the Graygual. Instead, her people had been wronged, and she would right that wrong with cold calculation. He couldn’t say it wasn’t justified, but her even tone gave him the creeps. He had a feeling these Shadow could be a very brutal people when pushed, and the Graygual were certainly pushing.

They approached the group of jeering men at a fast walk, sticking to the shadows. Someone yelled in an unfamiliar language and scooped up money off the ground. Jeering, he picked up the dice to throw. Sanders ducked in, slapped his hand over the man’s mouth, and stabbed him under the arm. He then struck out to the side, stabbing the neighbor in the side of the neck before sliding his knife across the throat of the man now struggling in his grasp.

The whore didn’t scream once, but she took off at a jog. She knew better than to stick around.

Denessa dispatched two other Graygual in the same amount of time as Sanders, knife work quick and precise. Rohnan hooked a man with his staff, ripping his neck as Tobias took out the last with his sword. The dying men gave a scream or groan before sinking down to the ground. Silence filtered into the scene while everyone caught their breath.

“Take the money,” the Shadow woman said, wiping her blade on one of the Graygual uniforms. “Spend it on one of the poorest merchants in the square.”

Sanders was refusing as she finished her statement. He paused before he nodded, grabbing what lay on the ground and passing it off to Burson. The older man pocketed it and said, “Our window is closing. We must hurry.”

Sanders started off at a jog, taking the route Leilius had planned with the least amount of eyes or Graygual. When they neared the front, crowds of Graygual loitered around the gate, watched by Shadow. There would no doubt also be a few Inkna within the crowd.

“The crowd has grown way bigger,” Leilius called up in an apologetic voice.

Sanders slowed to a walk, analyzing. There really was nothing they could do. All the exits would be guarded. He half-turned to tell his men to spread out when Denessa put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Side gate,” she said.

Without delay, Sanders let her lead. They backtracked before jogging to a small wooden building set against the city walls, with stairs leading up to a ledge where an archer would stand during a siege. The woman flicked up a piece of wood at waist height and reached into the hole created. The area where the wood met the stone wall popped. A crack formed along the wall, and then across the top. When the woman pried it open, Sanders saw that it was actually an extremely well hidden door.

She stood to the side, opening the door as she did so. “Through here.”

“This exit would’ve been handy a few times,” Sanders growled as he stepped through.

“Be glad you can use it now,” Denessa answered, following him in.

She directed him for the first few steps through the pitch black with a hand on his shoulder. He stopped when she did, before feeling her brush past him. Even though she was probably nearly touching him, he couldn’t even see her outline.

Somewhere close by, stone squealed. Something crunched. Then another squeal before the soft moonlight fell into a small chamber.

“We do not use this door often,” she said. “Only for occasional training. The outside is masked with moss and scrapes in the stone. There are a few of these, just in case. We hoped they’d never have to be used.”

“Keep hoping. War hasn’t broken out yet.” Sanders jogged through. His men came out after him, silent and serious apart from Marc, who looked terrified.

Denessa left the door open no more than a crack since there were no handles on the outside.

Sanders waited, glancing around the wood. He had no idea where they were in relation to where they were headed.

“Where to?” Denessa asked, rejoining him.

“The nearest water intake for the Trespasser Village,” Rohnan replied softly.

The soft moonlight fell over Denessa’s straight face, as impassive as her voice had been as she regarded Rohnan. She turned to Sanders. “There are innocents in the Trespasser Village. I cannot allow—”

“Not anymore,” Leilius piped up. “Most left in a boat this morning—”

“Ship, idiot,” Rachie muttered.

“—and the rest were murdered earlier this evening to make more room for the Graygual that arrived today. Why you guys are allowing more of those Graygual into—”

“Thank you, Leilius,” Tobias said, putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“How do you know this?” Denessa asked Leilius.

He withered down to a hunch within her gaze, whether out of fear that she might kill him, or because she was beautiful and had breasts. Sanders reckoned it could’ve been either.

The boy stuttered, “I sn-sneak around. That’s my job, Miss. They stomped on me pretty g-good, but Marc fixed me. Just a crack in the back, Miss. Right as rain. I just stay away from that area, now. They’ll kill me if they see me again. And they’d see me, they would. I don’t think—”

Tobias put his hand on Leilius’ shoulder again to stop the blathering.

“See? Clear conscience. C’mon, we gotta go,” Sanders said urgently, noticing Burson’s gaze going skyward with tight eyes. Sanders had learned that a smile to the sky was a good sign, and this was not. They were running out of time.

Sanders took up a fast jog. He heard the soft footfall of a couple of the boys, still not great at stealth, and the hard breath of Burson, the oldest among them and not as able to keep up. They couldn’t slow, though. Burson, more than anyone, knew that, since he was the one advocating haste.

They weaved in and out of trees, Denessa taking the lead and going a different route than Leilius had originally identified. Only a fool would argue with a woman, let alone this woman—she’d win the argument and then kill the man for her troubles.

The canopy of leaves overhead closed out the sky, blocking out most of the moonlight. Without breaking her stride, Denessa veered right. Sanders was about to tell her to slow down as his men didn’t know this land as well as she did, but then his feet hit smooth, packed dirt. She’d led them to a road through a deep cluster of trees. Smart.

They picked up speed as more moonlight broke through the canopy, splattering the road. Men started panting, but the woman was still breathing easily. She had to be in great shape.

They rounded a bend before she slowed.

Up ahead, lighting the road in flickering orange, was the light of a fire. Shadows danced along the ground, thrown by the light. Hushed voices with an occasional burst of laughter hit Sanders. The dull clinking of dinnerware permeated the night.

Sanders motioned behind him for everyone to stay put. He quickly and silently crept closer, realizing belatedly that Denessa was still behind him. Clearly his command didn’t apply to her.

As he neared the flickering light, Sanders braced his hand on the rough bark of a large tree and waited for Denessa to take her place by the tree next to him. He peered around.

Three men sat at a small fire about ten paces beyond a large, metal circle. Nearly as tall as Sanders, the sides of the circle flared toward the top, creating a larger area to catch rain. Trees, overhang and all debris had been cleared away, leaving only open sky between the heavens and the water collector. Still, it was open. Bird poop, bugs, dead things—things could still get in. An open water source had the potential to cause sickness.

“That doesn’t exactly look safe—anything could get in that water…” Sanders said quietly.

“It is mostly clean, but those in the Trespasser Village all know to boil the water to clean it,” she whispered.

Sanders’ heart sank. Why hadn’t someone told him this before they’d trekked all the way out here? Boiling the water would kill any poison they used.

Sanders backed away carefully. Once back on the road with his men, he stared at Leilius. “They boil the water.”