Chapter Thirty-Two
Thirty-Two
Misery Loves Betrayal
The way the starlight hit Aoife’s skin was ethereal. Shadach watched her in the faint darkness, dressing herself after their impassioned worship, the fireflies in the water behind them swimming in leisurely circles.
It was then, in the darkness, in the peaceful quiet, that he realised he’d been missing something terribly amongst the plans and schemes that had recently consumed his life.
Aoife. He’d been missing Aoife. She smiled at him as he looked at her, her vibrant eyes so full of life.
That, right there, was what he’d been deprived of.
Her view. Her way of seeing the world. He’d been so wrapped up in battle plans and secret tunnels and Halcin schemes that he’d forgotten to take a moment for peace.
For art. For beauty. How tired he was of the logistics and the hiding and the anxiety.
Shadach pulled Aoife to him, her wet clothes pressing against his as he kissed her. When the kiss broke, she rested her hand on his shoulder and said, “What’s that for?”
“Everything,” he said. “It’s for everything.”
He breathed in, the air filling his lungs and rejuvenating his soul. This. He needed more of this. Worship beneath the starlight. Aoife’s smile. Space for their artistic souls to take flight. They hadn’t had that in so long.
“You know,” Shadach pulled her closer, bending to rest his forehead against hers.
“This forest floor would make a beautiful canvas for a mural. Even a temporary one.” They didn’t have the glazing agent, and leaving evidence behind wouldn’t have been smart regardless.
But that didn’t matter. Some art was simply about the moment.
Aoife looked into his eyes and beneath the crimson stars he saw what had first drawn him to her.
That vision of wonder, of seeing beneath the surface of something to find its deeper worth.
Then, it faded.
“I think,” she looked to the ground, “we’ve probably been gone too long already.” She sat up.
Shadach took her hand, stopping her from leaving. “Are you still having doubts?” he said. His voice was careful. Cautious. “About us?”
“No.” She smiled sadly. “The doubts are gone. I’m just worried about what comes next.”
The truth. No lies. So why did Shadach feel so sick?
“What comes next,” he said, reaching over and stroking her cheek, “is we beat Aristen. Then we live happily ever after.”
She looked at him, her smile faltering. “That sounds lovely.”
Again. No lies.
“Should we get back?” She stood, and he did, too.
The walk back was quiet. Not quite uncomfortable but not peaceful either.
Her fear, her worry about the future must have been overwhelming.
Shadach couldn’t blame her. The weight of what they had to do felt like it would crush him some days.
But as they walked, the sadness he’d seen in her eyes only made Shadach more anxious, more on edge.
Aoife had not lied to him, not once. But was that the whole story?
It was unusual, but not impossible: a person could lie with the truth.
After all, no one in Shadach’s life had been more honest with him than Aristen.
Look where that had gotten them. Glancing at Aoife, Shadach felt a tightness, a coldness brewing in his chest. Aoife. Was there a danger he wasn’t seeing?
The tunnel entrance back to the hideout was up ahead. Shadach slowed. He needed to ask her. To clear the air. What if—
No. He couldn’t even think it. But he had to. For his own safety, for the safety of everyone. What if Aoife was no longer on his side? What if, like Aristen, like those men that had killed his father, she was getting ready to betray him, too?
Aoife started into the tunnel, Shadach following after her.
Don’t be a fool, he told himself. He would talk to her now.
The tunnel may not have been the best place to have a heart-to-heart, but he needed clarity.
If she lied, if she tried to hide … it would kill him, but at least he would know the truth.
“Aoife—”
“There you are!” Shadach jerked at the sound of Kesra’s voice coming up the tunnel. It was rare to hear her so angry. So uncomposed. “Where is he?” Kesra shouted up the tunnel. “Have you seen him?”
“He who?” Shadach tried to reorient his mind to a different kind of conversation than the one he’d planned on having as he and Aoife crawled into the underground room with Kesra.
“Hallus,” Kesra spat the name. “He said he needed to ‘relieve himself,’ but he’s been gone nearly as long as you two. We need to review the tunnels again before morning.” She was pacing now. “And what in the underworld happened to you two? Did you fall into a river?”
“Something like that.” The warmth in Aoife’s voice was a gentle push against Shadach’s suspicions.
It was the nudge he needed to notice … something.
He wasn’t certain what. Something was off.
The Shadows? Shadach watched them hoist their sluggish bodies through the air.
They seemed different somehow. A lithe little Shadow floating among the haggard ones caught his eye.
This one wasn’t bloated by the weight of time.
A fresh Shadow.
“I need a minute.” Shadach stepped back into the exit tunnel.
Instinct told him he needed to read that Shadow.
Calling to it, Shadach reached into the Shadow’s pillow-soft body to extract the truths it hid.
And what a truth it was. Shadach’s heart beat itself into a frenzy as the images flashed through his mind.
Money. So much money.
When the Shadow shrivelled up and vanished, Shadach burst into the underground room, his heart clamouring in his head.
“We have to go. Now.” The ferocity of his words made Kesra and Aoife jump.
“Why?” Kesra said, even as she prepared to run somewhere. Anywhere. “What happened?”
“Hallus betrayed us.” That snake. That demon.
Shadach should have seen it coming. He should have known better.
He’d thought Hallus’ selfishness, his desire to gain power and wealth through Shadach had made him trustworthy.
Shadach had been right about Hallus’ hunger for power and gold.
He’d been sorely mistaken about the rest.
“What’s happened?” The panic in Aoife’s voice half broke Shadach’s heart, but they had to keep moving. They had to get out. They were mice in a barrel down here, ready to be skewered. “How do you know he’s betrayed us?”
“I just do. Hallus made a deal with Aristen. Soldiers are on their way right now.”
Shadach raced ahead of Kesra and Aoife down the tunnel.
If the soldiers came before they got out, they’d have to get through him first. Shadach’s heart beat ever faster the closer they got to the tunnel exit.
Ten more steps. Five more steps. One more step.
Would they make it out? Had he realised in time?
They burst through the door, falling into the cold night.
Shadach stopped. Looked.
A crowd of soldiers surrounded the door, stunned and confused to see Shadach here when he should have been down there. The confusion lasted only a breath.
They attacked.
Shadach dodged the blade of a soldier, knocking it out of his hand before taking it for himself.
He had a blade in his boot but it wouldn’t do much good against their armour.
Shadach glanced back. Kesra had a stolen sword in her hand already.
Aoife had knocked off a soldier’s helmet and was striking at his face.
There was no time to pay attention to them.
Four soldiers circled him and, from the looks on their faces, they had been told to take Shadach dead or alive.
Which meant they’d been told to leave anyone with him just plain dead.
Shadach made quick work of his feet, bending and dodging, hitting back when he could, but there were too many soldiers.
One wrong move. One miscalculation. One second of being too slow and—
White hot pain pierced Shadach’s side as warm liquid spilled down his leg.
“Shadach!” he heard Aoife shout, her voice an ocean’s breadth away.
The world and his place in it felt like it was being ripped away from him.
No. His journey couldn’t end like this. If Shadach fell, so did Aoife.
So did the Halcin. So did everyone. The dirt hit Shadach’s knees as a pair of military boots swam into his vision.
He was outmanned. He was outmanoeuvred. But he had to get out of here.
How?
Shadach pulled air into his lungs. Too quickly. His vision swam.
“Shadach, hang on.” Aoife’s voice. It was closer now. Shadach glanced over. Kesra was just behind him, defending his back as Aoife protected his front. Then Aoife screamed. Shadach fought to stand, to reach her. A Shadow lurched past his vision, its screeching laughter bellowing in his ears.
The Shadows.
That was it. The damn things might as well make themselves useful.
Summoning every bit of strength in him, Shadach called to the Shadows in the forest and beyond, forcing them to him with his rage and his pain.
They flooded from their caves, their trees, their pits, screaming and writhing as they surrounded him in a wall of darkness.
“Aoife,” Shadach shouted with as much power as his voice could muster.
She stumbled into him as the soldiers clamoured in the darkness, trying to see.
“Where’s Kesra?” Shadach asked her, the Shadows making it impossible to see her clearly.
“I can’t … over there. I think she’s hurt.” Aoife disappeared for half a breath and Shadach’s heart lurched. What if she disappeared and never came back? What if a soldier got to her and—
“Let’s get out of here,” she said, holding up a half-conscious Kesra.
“This way,” he said. A soldier’s blade swiped blindly at the sound of his voice, missing him by a hair.
“What’s with these Shadows?” Kesra’s voice was faint, her breath short.