Shadow Lands (18 page)

Shanti hadn’t slept much.

The next day, puffy-eyed and strung out, they trekked through the thick vegetation, trying to keep an eye on the map for their location as they sought out the creatures they had little hope of keeping alive. Their men could be fighting at that moment, but instead of rushing to join them Shanti and Cayan were looking for the product of nature’s brutality.

The Elders are laughing right now. I can feel it.

But Shanti had said she’d help, and Cayan needed to get his head in the right place. He was living in the past, and it would severely disrupt his ability to fight until he worked it out. So this was what they had to do.

“Here,” Cayan said, bending down to point at a deposit of scat. He then pointed at some fresh paw prints. So far, he’d only needed Shanti’s minimal help. It was obvious that he was a master huntsman. He might not have survived in the wild much, but for day-hunting trips, he’d had more than a little experience.

They were closing in on a large predator’s den.

“I can feel your crankiness,” Cayan said with humor coloring his voice. “Think of the story you’ll have to tell.”

“I’m tired. I’m never happy when I’m tired.”

“At least we’re still going the right way.”

Shanti grunted her assent to that statement. It was true. They were, in essence, cutting across the land at a diagonal to connect with another, wider path.

And it would only take an extra hour.

But still, it was a pain. Being tired wasn’t helping.

They stepped into an open field and felt glorious sun for the first time since they’d entered the suffocating wood. The warmth beat down on them, rising Shanti’s spirits. She took a deep breath and gave a small smile. “That helped.”

“Look!” Cayan pointed to a small rock outcropping at the other end of the clearing. Trees sheltered it from above. At the base was a small black hole.

They moved toward it swiftly, seeing more scat and plentiful tracks. Once there, Cayan got on his hands and knees and looked into the hole while Shanti shook her head and kept an eye on the surrounding area.

Cats weren’t normally pack animals, but this was a strange land. Anything was possible.

“Ow!”

Shanti snapped her attention back to Cayan as he pulled out a little fuzzy black ball. It was the size of a loaf of bread. Its eyes were opened, so not newborn, but not much older. He set it on the ground and reached back into the hole, pulling out another. And then one more. When he was done, he knelt by them and smiled down, resting his hands on his thighs in childlike delight.

Shanti blinked down at the fuzzy little things. They were definitely cute, but they’d grow up. The adult version was large, agile, and dangerous. “So… now what?”

He shrugged. “Take them to the Shadow people and see what can be done. They have monstrous beasts in their pens. I doubt these will be too much for them to handle.”

Shanti sighed as she squinted into the light of the clearing. “Fine. How do we get them there without killing them and making you jump off something high?”

His smile burned brighter. The dimples made deep indents in his face. He was a handsome bastard, that was for sure. A lot of trouble though.

“We carry them in our packs, and feed them… mush or something. I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. This is good, though. This feels right.”

Cayan scooped up one of the small animals and handed it to Shanti. She dropped her sword in surprise and cushioned the little thing against her chest, instantly responding to the warmth. It squirmed until it burrowed deeper into her jacket, curled up into a ball, and settled.

“That’s not fair,” she said in irritation, stroking the downy soft fur. “It’s playing on my heartstrings now.”

Cayan laughed and gently put two cubs into the middle of the extra garments in his pack before closing it up and slinging it over his back. He looked at her. “Ready?”

“Oh,
now
you’re in a hurry,” Shanti muttered, tucking her cub away. “
Now
we have places to be, with live cargo in our packs that will someday grow up and eat us.”

C
ayan couldn’t help
the laughter bubbling up as Shanti pet the cub one last time before closing up her pack. Her terrible mood was endearing in a way he couldn’t explain. She couldn’t be taken seriously when she was like this, and she seemed to know it. She thrived on it—it was probably why Rohnan laughed at her so often.

Feeling lighter for finding the cubs, feeling as if his mother was smiling down on him, he consulted the map and found their route. As they left the clearing, the trees once again crowded in, reaching overhead and blocking out the sun. Shanti grumbled behind him.

They cut through the undergrowth, excellent at navigating the catching vegetation now. In less than an hour they pushed through a wall of green, and ended up on a rocky path winding away through the trees.

That’s when Cayan saw the lights. Blue and orange and sparkling, they sang to him in a way he could describe as heavenly. The sweet music filled his ears and drowned out his thoughts. His limbs became weightless. His power surged and rolled within him, spreading out, spiraling up, and joining with whatever power beckoned him closer.

It was so beautiful.

He followed in a daze. A smile plastering his face, his eyes hooded, he let his body lead. Something pulled at him, hindering his progress. He ripped away. He heard a voice next, but he couldn’t focus. He couldn’t quite hear it.

Pressure erupted in his side. He hardly felt it.

He continued to walk. Something brushed his face and his feet caught something every few strides His eyes remained focused on those glowing lights. On the hypnotic singing, so beautiful. A splash of violet infused the colors, singing in his heart.

Deep in his mind, something awoke with the thought of violet. Like a cancer the thought spread, eating away at that sound. Dripping through the euphoria like acid.

Shanti.

The name repeated in his mind. Slowly, like awaking from a sleep, he connected the name to the person. He connected the person to a deeper feeling, residing in the middle of him. With that feeling came reality. And the memory of her touch, so real. So heavenly.

This was wrong. These lights were wrong. This euphoria was not as pleasant as her soft body moving against him, or the delicate moans he could coax out of her.

The lights!

Warning blasted through him. He wrestled for control, understanding what was happening now and fighting it. He crawled out of his stupor to find himself pushing through a shrub to the top of a high precipice. A sheer rock face led down into a ravine far below.

He felt the tug before he toppled over backward and landed on Shanti.

“You are a God-damned strong bastard, you know that?” Shanti seethed, crawling out from under him.

Her intense presence left his mind in an instant. In its wake he felt strangely hollow. He realized that he’d connected with her through the lights because she was making her presence in his head stronger. She had used her
Gift
to try and knock him out of his daze.

“What did you plan to do?” he asked, breathing hard.

Shanti stared into his eyes for a moment, probably making sure he was lucid, before straightening up and wiping the hair and sweat from her face. “I tried pleasure, but that made it worse. I tried pain, but you didn’t even recognize it. I kicked you in the kidney; nothing. I couldn’t get to your balls because you were heading right for the cliff. I was about to suck all the energy out of you when you stopped.”

Cayan dusted off his pants and got up. His knees felt weak and his side ached from where she’d kicked him. Straight ahead stood a few low bushes, and then nothing but sky. He had almost walked off a cliff to his death.

“And that is what those lights do.”

“I took your pack off you,” Shanti said as he reached around for it, “I figured if you survived, and killed the cubs in the process, I’d never hear the end of it.”

“You’re so charming when you’re in this kind of mood,” he said, willing his heart to stop pounding. He couldn’t stop from looking out at that patch of sky. Feeling the light rain drifting onto his face.

It had been close.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Shanti said, walking back the way they came. “I can’t wait to see what else this place has in store for us.”

P
ortolmous stood
in the Shadow Lord’s office, staring out the window overlooking the square with growing unease. Graygual had gathered in the square. Squads of them, standing in organized groups, monitoring the gate, looming over Portolmous’ guards, and securing the area.

Portolmous turned at the heavy footsteps racing up the hall. His head guard Shom stepped in, an aging man with an eye for tactics. “Sir,” Shom said, offering a slight bow. His chest heaved. “Sir, we’ve verified the rumors Denessa brought back last night. Those who hadn’t already left the Trespasser Village have been killed and dumped into the Trial Bay. Every last man who couldn’t fight.”

“What about those who could fight?”

“They now wear black shirts.”

“The Graygual,” Portolmous spat, looking out the window again.

“The Graygual are arming and organizing. They surround the trials, blocking all entrances and exits, including the one they created. We’ve stopped all ships coming in, and we’ve evacuated all foreigners who have no part to play in the upcoming battle. Those who refused to leave know they will no longer be protected.”

“The men and woman from the Westwood Isles—did they leave?”

“No sir. The leader, a Commander Sanders, laughed in my face when I told him he should go.”

“The Graygual guard the entrances to the trials,” Portolmous repeated, acid rising in his stomach.

“We have the entrances and exits into the trials covered from the inside,” Sonson said as he strode in. He glanced around the office. “Where’s mother?”

“She issued the evacuation of our people,” Portolmous answered, eyes glued to the window. The groups were starting to spread out. A gathering of Inkna walked through the gate.

“She is overseeing their leaving before she returns. I am initiating the battle in her stead. For now. What of the hopeful-Chosen?” Portolmous faced his brother.

For the first time Portolmous could remember, Sonson’s eyes were tight, his mouth a thin line. No humor permeated his thoughts. He felt the pressure, and he knew it was something they would be hard-pressed to beat.

“They are in the final trial. We have no visibility, but I estimate one more day and we should know.” Sonson glanced at the window, but did not walk closer. “It doesn’t look like we have a day, brother.”

Portolmous set his jaw. “She
has
to get through those trials. That is foretold. She
has
to, Sonson. It is non-negotiable.”

“We need someone who knows the Graygual to lead this, Porto,” Sonson persisted. “We’ve never faced an army this organized before. We are unprepared for this.”

“That is why she
must
get through the trials. She must
earn
her right to take the lead, Sonson. She has to
earn
it.”

“What of those accompanying her?” Sonson asked. “They’re greatly outnumbered, and today they will die if we leave them isolated.”

Portolmous clasped his hands behind his back. “It’s not our way to invite foreigners into our fold…”

“We’ve already fought with them, Portolmous. Denessa said they are excellent in battle,” Sonson growled. “Their Commander is a vicious but loyal warrior that can take three Graygual to his one. His men are all top notch, even the young ones. He’s got a doctor who’s not afraid to run into battle, and a man with Salange’s capabilities who has turned his talent into a warrior’s skill despite his affinity for peace and healing. The man knows what his attacker will do at the same time the attacker knows. We need them.”

“I agree with that assessment,” Shom said. “Their small force is extremely effective against the enemy. I would greatly like to meet their Captain…”

Portolmous pondered the ramifications of breaking one of the city’s oldest laws when shouting echoed down the corridor. Sonson brandished his sword and stepped out into the hall quickly, before returning a moment later with a knowing gleam to his eye. A harried guard rushed in after him. “I didn’t think I should kill them, but I couldn’t—”

The commander from the Westwood Isles barged into the room with an air of violent impatience. He glanced around before settling his eyes on Portolmous.

“You in charge?” The man spoke in his native language, somehow knowing Portolmous knew it.

A tall but thinner man with shoulder-length, white-blond hair followed the commander in. He could’ve been Portolmous’ twin for how alike they were, even though this man was a little younger. An older man with a mad grin came in next, along with an elegant man who reminded Portolmous of his mother. The rest took up position near the doorway but did not enter.

“I am in charge at present, yes,” Portolmous said in an even tone.

“You got yourself a shit-show going on out there. We need to combine forces to hold them until the Captain and Shanti get out of those damn trials with whatever title they need to get you to heel.”

Portolmous stiffened. “And what makes you think we need your help?”

Sonson’s lips pursed, no doubt frustrated with Portolmous’ question. But he couldn’t let foreigners walk into his world and start trying to dictate. Loss of control created confusion, and confusion created death.

If the commander was fazed, he gave no sign. “I’ll tell you why you need our help. You have no idea what these bastards are capable of. We were hunted by one of their best, and he was no picnic. I’ve battled some of the best warriors in my time, but their high ranking officers are made to fight. Not trained,
made
. I cut a man’s hand off, and he still kept at me. Didn’t even scream out. Now, you move like a good fighter. And that orange-headed man over there could definitely give me a run for my money, but you need Daniels.” The man pointed at the elegant, graying man behind him. “He’s been studying these Graygual, and he’s made a map of their movements around the island. Not only that though, you need this man, as painful as it is to admit it.”

“And why do I need him?” Portolmous asked uncertainly as he looked at the man’s slightly protruding belly, lack of warrior’s movement, and strange look to his eye. He didn’t seem entirely sound of mind.

“Well, you have that mind-power, don’t you?” The commander stared at Portolmous with an expectant look. Suddenly, the man’s mind disappeared. All their minds disappeared! As if they were unconscious, every Westwood Isle mind blinked out of existence.

“How…?” Portolmous let the word drift away.

In a perfect accent no foreigner had ever displayed, including the violet-eyed woman, the man said in Portolmous’ tongue,
“It is my own power that is the only remaining, isolated
Therma
, is it not? Everyone has found a mate but me.
”

“You can prevent the use of
Therma?
”
Sonson asked with hungry eyes.
“You can isolate it—just pick out those you want to prevent from using it?”

“It’s rude, speaking in a language no one else understands,” the commander said with hard eyes.

“Yes, I can cut out the Inkna faction,” the older man said in the Mountain Region’s tongue. “They are not great warriors—without their mind, they are useless.”

“What is your range?” Portolmous asked.

Before he could answer, the Shadow Lord walked into the room wearing battle leathers. A sword rested at her hip, throwing knives in her custom-made harness around her middle, and a bow at her back. An aging woman with refined taste and grace, she was known for her vicious and cunning fighting prowess. She still trained to keep fit, and because she loved the physicality of it, but it had been a long time since she’d fought in a real battle.

Portolmous cleared the way so she could take her seat at the large desk. “We must get ready,” she said, sitting down and focusing on the commander. “I hear you would like to offer your aid. We accept.”

The commander nodded, spread his legs in a solid stance, and clasped his arms behind his back. “It took a woman to talk sense. What has my world come to…?”

Sonson laughed and the Shadow Lord smiled gracefully. Portolmous glanced back out the window. “We don’t have long.”

“No.” The Shadow Lord held out her hand for Daniels’ map. “They are ahead of us, and their main focus is the hopeful-Chosen.”

“How do you know?” the Commander asked.

The Shadow Lord gave the Commander an assessing stare. “And your name is?”

“Sanders, ma’am. Commander Sanders.”

“I know because they are blocking all exits out of the trials, with most of their focus on the landing point. When the hopeful-Chosen comes down off the hill to collect their title, they will have two armies waiting for them. One will be ours, and the other will be the Graygual.”

“Their title?” the blond man asked.

Portolmous’ mother’s assessing stare landed on him next. “Ah. Salange must be pleased to find another. Remarkable—you could almost be a second son. You are?”

“My name is Rohnan Fu Hoi,” he said diplomatically. “I am Chance to the
Chulan,
also known as Shanti Cu Hoi and leader of the Shumas
.”

“Yes, the
Chulan.
A language out of legend and a name to accompany it. Half of me is excited to see the doctrines come to life, while the other half wishes this was after my time. However.” She looked over the map. Daniels stepped up with a straight back and an air of importance. He didn’t speak, just waited for questions. “Their title, yes,” the Shadow Lord said, tapping a place on the map. She glanced up at Rohnan. “The hopeful-Chosen is two individuals who have been
Joined
into one with their
Therma.
The Captain of these men, and your… sister, is that correct?”

“Sister in name, not in blood,” Rohnan answered.

“Same thing, I think. At least to you.” The Shadow Lord looked at Daniels. “This map is well-drawn. Sonson—”

Sonson stepped up, looking down on the parchment spreading across the desk. He traced an area that resembled the outskirts of the trials before pointing to the Red-Zone water supply. “Have they started dying yet?”

“Yes, it seems so. Started early this morning, and killed a fourth of the camp, including a few high officers, before they honed in on the water supply. Smart thinking, Commander.” Her sharp stare hit Sanders.

“It was our poison-master, actually. I’m just along for the ride,” Sanders answered. A vein pulsed in his neck. It didn’t take a friend to know he was eager to get out of the office and get into position.

“Well, it certainly helped. Still, we are outnumbered. If the hopeful-Chosen doesn’t come down off that hill with an offering of which we’ve never seen the like, we’ll be crushed.”

“Whether they have an offering or not, they will help,” Sonson said with gravity. “I’ve seen what they can do together. I’ve felt their power and there is nothing like it. The doctrines cannot possibly prepare you to feel what rolls off them in waves even when they are idle. They are a force of nature, and the Graygual will not expect it.”

“Yes, they will,” Rohnan said in his smooth voice. “From what I have heard, whoever runs these Graygual sent in a force. That force did not return. Their leader will use that knowledge. He already knows Shanti’s ability, and guessing the Captain’s is not hard. He will be ready.”

“Their leader is on this island. Have none of your people thought to go looking for him?” Sanders asked with a growl.

“We have,” Sonson replied, a fierce gleam in his eyes. “Everyone that went looking, even our stealthiest, did not return. We know the area where he resides, but we’d have to send in a force to make it in and then drag him back out again—assuming we can figure out who it is. By the time that could be arranged they had too many, and all were high officers. He’s shielded himself. He is highly intelligent, well-trained in tactics, and he is about to challenge us in the open.”

“Who is he?” Sanders pushed.

“Either one of their highest Captains, or Xandre himself,” Rohnan answered with a hollow voice. “It can be no one else. Not with the Chosen right here, in a place with no escape. We are in a battle for her life.”

“For our lives,” someone muttered at the door.

“For our lives, correct,” the Shadow Lord returned. She stood and looked at Sonson. “Time to get everyone in action. We are the last, is that right?”

“By now, yes.” Sonson took two steps toward the door. “I have a team waiting to clear that courtyard, with your help. We have horses ready to take us to the field.”

“Have you ever found a mate for your
Gift
?” Rohnan asked quietly.

The Shadow Lord glanced up. Her steel grey eyes lingered on Rohnan before she motioned for Daniels to take the map, then moved around the desk. “Yes. He gave me two headstrong boys, but he died young. I took over his mantle. We could never
Join
, though. He was my power’s mate, but he was not my power’s perfect partner.”

“And have you produced any others on this island with a full dose of power?” Rohnan asked as the Shadow Lord walked toward the door.

“No, but I knew one was coming. I knew my
Therma
was rare, but not unheard of. I never, in my wildest dreams, expected three with a full dose of power to show up. And now we must battle one of them.”

“It won’t be much of a battle with that Inkna. His kind don’t fight like warriors, even with their minds,” the older man said, smiling at the sky.

“What are our chances?” Sanders asked the older man as everyone filed out of the room and marched down the hall.

“If Shanti and Cayan join the battle,” the older man answered, “We will have heavy losses, but we will still have a future. If not, we will all die or be taken.”

“Sorry I asked,” Sanders snarled.

Sonson huffed a laugh despite the situation. Portolmous felt a weight settle in his gut. Their whole way of life depended on the hopeful-Chosen. Getting down off the hill would be easy for them if they withstood the lure of the lights, but they needed that offering. The question was: what could they find that could possibly fulfill the criteria?