Slight and Shadow (Fate's Forsaken: Book Two) (4 page)

“Ah, but that won’t be necessary.” Knotter scrunched up his face and the bolt slid open, seemingly of its own accord. “See?” He rocked backwards. “I’m opening right up.” He made a face at Shamus before disguising himself as a normal knot once again — leaving Kyleigh to deal with the disgruntled merchants on the other side.

“What took so blasted long?” the first man snapped. He had the collar of his coat pulled up so high that he nearly brushed by without recognizing her. “Oh, Lady Kyleigh,” he said, swiping his hat from his head. “I, um, forgive me — I wasn’t expecting you to be the one at the door.”

It had been several months since she’d tackled Duke Reginald at his own party — and Shamus had assured her that the
true
story never made it off the island. But even if the people of the seas didn’t realize that she was the Kingdom’s most wanted outlaw, they certainly gave her a wide berth. Even now, she couldn’t help but notice how the merchant gripped his sword hilt when he greeted her.

Though she supposed it was possible that he’d just gotten wind of her blade skills: Shamus often visited the dock tavern, and it was no secret that a few tankards of ale could loosen his lips considerably.

“There’s no need to apologize,” she said, stepping aside so that he could enter. Four merchants stumbled in behind him, bent nearly double under the weight of a large crate. “Great skies, what have you got them sneaking in?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Shamus said, a little too casually. “Did you have any trouble finding the goods, Captain?”

He looked pointedly at the lead man — who was looking pointedly at Kyleigh’s legs. A long moment passed before Shamus cleared his throat.

The captain jumped. He saw Kyleigh smirking at him, and red singed the skin beneath his whiskers. “Ah, so sorry. My mind … ah, it wandered.” he turned to Shamus, straightening his collar. “What was that you said?”

“I asked if you had any trouble collecting the shipment.”

“Oh, not much. There was a
bit
of a scuffle. You know how those desert folk can be —”

“Desert folk?” Kyleigh looked at Shamus — who suddenly seemed very interested in checking the sturdiness of the crate. “What did you order from the desert?”

“I already told you — it’s nothing. Now, why don’t you go and catch another hour of sleep before sunrise?”

He tried to turn her away by the shoulders, but she broke his grip and wrenched the lid off the crate. She heard the captain gasp as the nails splintered from the wood, but she was too focused on the crate’s contents to worry about what a spectacle she was causing. And judging by the reek of the captain’s coat, he’d soon be drowning the memory in a flagon, anyways.

She pulled the first item out from underneath a thin layer of straw. It was a plain white tunic, made of a smooth material that she recognized immediately. “Silk shirts?” she said, doing a quick sum. “There’s got to be nearly two dozen, here.”

Shamus scratched at his head. “Aye, I got them for the men. I thought they might breathe a little easier in the summer heat — ah, since we’ve got so many repairs lined up, and all.”

He kept his face suspiciously innocent under her glare. Kyleigh looked over his shoulder and searched the crowd of guards for an honest face. But there was none: just a lot of foot-shuffling and some vigorous nods.

She dug the shirts aside and found that the second layer was made up entirely of canteens.

“To save us some time,” Shamus said, smiling as he grew more confident in his tale. “The men can carry them at their belts while they work, and they won’t have to take so many trips down to the water barrel.”

“I see. Well, I suppose that makes perfect sense,” Kyleigh said, reaching in for the crate’s final layer. “Hmm … oh my — what’s
this
for?”

Shamus balked when she drew the sword from its sheath. It was a scimitar, the curved blade favored by desert outlaws. She spun it deftly in one hand and heard the wind whistle off its edge. “It’s very well-made,” she said approvingly. Then she leveled the point at Shamus’s chest. “But what in blazes is it for?”

“Ah …” He glanced over his shoulder at the guards, who tried very quickly to look bewildered, before he shot a pointed look at the captain. “I don’t rightly know. I certainly didn’t order them —”

“Oh, no you don’t,” the captain interjected, jabbing a finger at him. “Don’t try and weasel your way out of our agreement! You
will
pay me, sir, or I’ll spread word through every tavern on the High Seas that you’re a thief and a timewaste!”

“Those sound like some grave accusations,” Kyleigh said with a mocking smile, her eyes on Shamus. “Come clean, man — tell me what the swords are for. Do you plan to shave with them? Are your axes not as fun to swing about?”

Shamus glared daggers at the captain for a moment before he finally let out a heavy sigh. “All right, you’ve got me. You know what they’re for.”

Just as she’d suspected. Kyleigh thrust the scimitar back in its sheath and tossed it into the crate. “You aren’t coming, Shamus,” she said as she slammed the lid back over the top. “None of you are. It’s far too dangerous.”

Shamus made a frustrated noise. “But we can’t leave you on your own, Lady Kyleigh. What sort of soldiers would we be, if we didn’t follow you into battle —?”

“Obedient ones.” She didn’t like using the tricks Crumfeld had taught her, because they made her feel like a pompous git. But in this case, she had no choice. She arched her neck and tilted her chin — making it seem as if she looked down on Shamus even though he stood nearly a head above her. “If I’m to have any chance of reaching the Baron’s castle alive, I’ve got to move quietly. And that’s impossible to do with an army stomping along behind me — no matter how they’re disguised,” she added, when she saw the argument on Shamus’s face.

He shook his head and started to say something else, but she held up her hand.

“Pay this man for his trouble.” She turned to the captain. “And I’m afraid you’ll have to take that crate back down to your ship. I won’t let it sit in the courtyard to tempt my men.”

The captain smiled as he bowed. “No problem at all. You’ll never hear me complain about being able to sell the same shipment twice,” he said gleefully.

Kyleigh passed a severe look around the guards before she headed back into the castle. She could hear Shamus arguing with the captain as she reached the doors:

“What was that? I gave you the look, man! How could you sell me?”

“How was I supposed to know? All I heard was that I suddenly wasn’t getting paid —”

“You should’ve known I was only trying to cover my arse. Here — take your blasted gold and be off with you!”

Kyleigh sighed inwardly. She squished her toes into the ground as she walked, enjoying the cool relief of the morning dew. And she realized she would have to leave much sooner than she’d planned.

She couldn’t give Shamus the chance to order another round of equipment and get the men rallied for battle. She wouldn’t let them follow her into Whitebone — not because she feared being spotted, but because she knew how dangerous the journey would be.

Kyleigh was prepared to risk her own life, but she wouldn’t cost them theirs.

Chapter 4

The Black Beast

It had been a long while since Death visited his dreams. Kael had hoped to never meet him again — for wherever the man in white appeared, trouble would follow at his heels.

He slid in while Kael’s mind rested, in the moment when the dream world crumbled and gave way to inky blackness. He was a white smudge on the horizon — a something where there should’ve been nothing. And Kael knew it was wrong.

Death came closer, and closer. He drifted in like a fog across the seas. Soon, he was standing close enough that Kael could see his face — a face that looked so familiar and yet, he couldn’t grasp who it was.

Then his heart figured it out.

The throbbing inside his chest was panicked. His heart shrieked, pushing against his ribs. It stuttered like a friend who saw danger, but was too terrified to point it out.

What? What?
Kael heard himself say. He gripped his chest and peered at the man in white, trying to guess his face.
What —?

Death’s hand clamped over his mouth, firm and insistent. Kael tried to roll his head to the side, but couldn’t break free. He couldn’t draw breath. In his panic, he forced himself out of his dream, wrenched his eyes open and saw … Lysander?

The captain was crouched over him; the worry on his handsome face showed clearly in the moonlight. He pressed one finger over his lips as he peeled his hand from Kael’s chin. It was uncomfortably damp.

What?
Kael mouthed. He realized that
he
was the one covered in sweat: it lathered his face, the backs of his knees and under his arms.

Lysander held his hands out in front of him, as if he was begging Kael to stay calm. Then he cupped one hand around his ear.

Kael listened. For a long moment, he didn’t hear anything. Then soft footsteps came from his left and he turned in time to see Aerilyn kneel down beside them. It looked as if she’d gotten dressed in a hurry: she wore nothing but her boots and Lysander’s white shirt, which covered her to the knees.

An object passed between them, and Kael heard the sly hiss of metal as Lysander drew his cutlass from its sheath. Aerilyn’s quiver was strapped across her shoulders; she had her bow clenched in her other hand.

Their worry put Kael on edge. What in Kingdom’s name was going on? He checked to make sure that his wallet of throwing knives was strapped to his upper arm. Then he began digging through his rucksack for his bow.

“Why’d you have to toss it the whole way out here, Dred?”

The booming voice came from just outside the bramble wall — so close that it made Kael jump.

An unintelligible reply drifted in from further out, closer to the highway. “Well, one of you sorry blisters might’ve at least come with me … I
know
there are lions out here!” the voice snapped, after a second reply. “Why do you think I keep yelling? I want them to know that I’m not wandering around on my own.”

Then came a sound that Kael most definitely didn’t want to hear — not at this time of night, and certainly not so close to their camp: laughter. Several voices worth.

“Yeh, I hope His Lordship strips the meat off your back, Dred,” the voice near the bramble wall muttered. “It’ll sure hurt to laugh, then …”

His words trailed off into a string of grumbles as he tromped closer. His footsteps were heavy. Each one sounded as if a full-grown man was driving both of his feet into the ground at once.

Kael motioned for his companions to stay back. He grabbed his bow and dug an arrow out of his quiver. Then he crept towards the bramble wall.

He was fairly certain he knew what sort of man lurked outside their camp — but he hoped that he was wrong. The brambles scratched at his cheeks as he pressed his face into a small hole between the branches. He squinted through the thorns … and saw that he’d been right.

A giant stood outside of their wall.

The giants of the Endless Plains weren’t
actual
giants, with toes the size of rum barrels and heads that scraped the sky. But they
were
exceptionally large men. As the giant wandered closer, Kael sized him up. If the top of his head reached the giant’s underarm, it would be a close thing. But even more alarming than the giant’s height was the thickness of his limbs. He might’ve been able to crush a slab of stone with his fist — or a man’s head.

The giant stalked over to an object stuck into the ground — a weapon with a shaft as thick as a sapling. With one grunting tug, he wrenched it free. Dirt sprayed out in all directions as the weapon’s blade came loose. It had a head shaped like a spear, winged on one side by a deadly axe blade. Kael recognized it as a pike.

For a man, a pike was an unwieldy weapon — better suited to defending bridges than close combat. But the giant spun the pike around as if it was no more burdensome than a sword, checking the blade for dents. Then, with a satisfied grunt, he turned to leave. And Kael breathed a sigh of relief.

Perhaps he breathed a little too soon.

He heard the stocky branches creak above him as a gust of wind blew through the camp — the first he’d felt all night. It whipped across the remnants of their fires, stirring up the scent of ash. Kael could only watch as a handful of little embers danced gleefully over the wall.

The giant froze as the breeze rattled against his armor. His shoulders stiffened, and he turned. His eyes were hidden beneath the shadow of his helmet, but his mouth had a suspecting, downwards bend. His thumping steps grew louder as he headed back towards the bramble wall.

Kael turned around so quickly that he nearly butted heads with Aerilyn, who watched intently from over his shoulder.

“Does he see us?” she whispered. Her voice was light enough that she could speak and not be heard, but Kael didn’t trust his own voice. So he just shook his head.

He was about to signal for her to wake the others when he saw that the whole host of pirates was already awake. Most knelt in silent clumps, their hands resting on their cutlasses. Others were quietly packing their bedrolls, preparing to run like mad. Kael thought that might be a good plan.

“Is he gone?” Aerilyn hissed after a moment. “I don’t hear him anymore.”

Kael wasn’t sure. He motioned for her to stay still and crept along the wall. He heard Lysander following at his back. The good captain’s boots scuffed loudly through the dried grass and crunched every possible branch in their path. Kael was about to tell him to stop when an odd feeling struck him.

His hair stood up on end and his breath caught in his throat. The animal in him whispered to be still: danger lurked nearby. He pulled his arrow back on its string until he felt the fletching touch his chin. Then he turned slowly to his right.

There was a gap in the wall, here — a crack that the grasping thorns had carved out of the moonlight. Kael knelt to squint through it. He turned his head far to the left, and then to the right, but he saw nothing amiss. Perhaps the giant had turned back for the road. He
had
been worried about the lions, after all.

Kael was straining to see into the distance when something large blocked his vision. A giant’s face met his, a gray eye rolled around in the crack. And in his surprise, Kael’s finger slipped from the string.

There was a grunt and a loud
clang
as the giant’s body hit the ground.

“What was that?” Lysander hissed. His stormy eyes flicked down to Kael’s empty bowstring, and he groaned. “Please tell me that wasn’t what I think it was.”

“It was an accident — maybe he isn’t dead,” Kael said hopefully. But when he saw the giant lying on his back, motionless, with an arrow standing straight up from his head, he knew it was no good.

“We ought to start running, then.”

Aerilyn, in spite of having been told to stay put, had materialized behind Lysander. “Start running for what?”

“For the seas, my love,” Lysander said. He slipped past her and hastily whispered orders to the pirates. Bedrolls, cookware, and rucksacks went flying into the cart.

“But,” Aerilyn split her glance between the packing and Kael, “what about the plan? I thought we were supposed to camp here while you —”

“The plan’s finished,” Kael murmured. He went for his own pack at a jog, with Aerilyn following close behind. “That giant wasn’t alone — there are others camped near the road. I’m not sure how many, and I certainly don’t want to find out.”

“So? Maybe they won’t come looking for him. You heard what they said about the lions.”

“A man attacked by lions would’ve had time to scream. The giant I killed didn’t make a sound. They’ll come looking for him out of curiosity, and we haven’t got the numbers to face them. I won’t risk it.” Kael shoved his bow into his pack. He’d begun to unbuckle his wallet, but a sudden realization stayed his hand.

“We still have the advantage of surprise,” Aerilyn reminded him. When he didn’t respond, she tugged impatiently on his sleeve. “Kael — we could take them. Their skin isn’t made of stone, after all. And once we’ve killed them, we can bury their bodies out in the wilderness, or something equally clever. Granted, it would take a fair bit of digging. They
are
rather large —”

“If killing one man will draw out a patrol,” Kael whispered, his mind made up, “then killing a patrol will draw out a swarm. No, if these giants disappear without any explanation, then Gilderick’s men will come pouring out of the castle. They’ll comb over every blade of grass and under every boulder — and it’ll be midsummer before we have a chance to sneak back in.”

“What?” Aerilyn eyed him suspiciously. “Kael, you aren’t making any —”

He clamped a hand over her mouth and drew the
Atlas
out of his pocket. “I want you to keep this for me. Guard it with your life.”

She took the book in surprise, turning its worn, leather-bound cover in her hands. “Your book? But it’s your very favorite …” Her shock wore off and her eyes snapped up to him suddenly. “No. No — I won’t let you!”

She made to grab the front of his shirt when two stocky arms lunged out of the darkness and wrapped her up tightly. “Start screaming, lass,” Morris warned when she struggled, “and you’ll call the whole company down to slaughter us.”

Aerilyn bit her lip tightly — but the look she gave Kael was every bit as painful as a slap across the face. He thought he might’ve preferred the beating.

“Do whatever it is you’ve got planned,” Morris said with a stout nod. “We’ll come back for you once things have cleared up.”

For not the first time, Morris seemed to have guessed his intentions. But Kael shook his head. “I’ll come to you. If I’m captured, it’ll be much easier for one man to sneak out than for a dozen to sneak in.”

“One
Wright
,” Morris corrected him with a wink. “And don’t you forget it.”

Kael clapped him on the arm and turned to Aerilyn — who’d begun to tear up at the word
captured
.

“Please,” she whispered. When Kael shook his head, tears slid unchecked down her cheeks.

He brushed them away and took her under the chin. “I owe you an apology — for the way I behaved at dinner,” he added, when she looked confused. “You’re a good friend to me, and you know how much I hate having an unsettled debt. So I’ll definitely be coming back,” he smiled at her, “to give you a proper apology. And don’t worry about me, all right? My heart’s going to be fine.”

That last bit was an outright lie, but he needed Aerilyn to believe it. He didn’t want her crying over him anymore. She returned his smile weakly, and nodded.

When Kael glanced up at Morris, he caught the old seadog giving him a strange look. He blinked his droopy eyes and bent his neck, as if he was trying to drain water out of his ears. Then he shook his head roughly, and the look vanished. “Gravy guard your path,” he whispered.

As Kael slipped away, all he could think about was that Gravy couldn’t save him — not this time. There was a darkness in his heart that had been growing up in the place of his hope, a black beast that kept trying to strangle him with its wings. He’d been fighting it back all winter, shoving it aside as he focused on his plan.

But now that plan was broken, and the beast fed upon its ruins — growing stronger with every step:
Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad thing,
it whispered
, if you didn’t come back at all
.

Kael shoved the beast away. For all his many wounds, he still clung to a shred of hope. It was a ragged, miserable little thing — one glowing coal lying in a bed of dead ash. But he wouldn’t let it go. He would hold it tightly to his heart, no matter how it burned him.

And the black beast would lie in wait.

*******

Kael crept towards the giants’ camp, stitching a plan together as he went.

The moonlight was proving itself to be his greatest enemy. He already felt like a black dot on a blank sheet of parchment
before
the moon dropped its infuriating beams on his head. Now he might as well be a beetle in a jar, for all he was hidden. Still, he did what he could to move quietly — even if that meant crawling along on his belly a good portion of the way.