chapter thirteen #2
The stench still lingers in my nose when I wake up from the vivid dream.
Fighting the urge to vomit, I roll over onto my side and blink my eyes open, but the berth is so dark that I wonder if I’ve lost my sight.
Then two things hit me in rapid succession: the stench that, despite waking from the dream, is only growing stronger, and the vacuum-like silence—a silence I recognize all too well, even without the smell of decay filling the small berth.
The umbra.
Heart hammering in my chest, my hand flies to the dagger at my hip.
I let out a silent sigh of relief when I feel its familiar tingle.
Lying perfectly still, I try to determine the umbra’s position, but the impenetrable darkness and the deafening silence make it an impossible task.
I can only pray Vilder and Seniia are unharmed.
My mouth opens in a silent scream, my whole body convulsing as the umbra’s shadowy tendrils crawl up my body, feeling me out. When they reach my throat, they tighten, allowing just enough room for a wheezing breath. I need to wake Seniia and Vilder, warn them, but not a single sound escapes my lips
The umbra’s slithering voice breaks the silence. “Did you think he wouldn’t find you?” it hisses, its rotten odor filling my nose. “After you spied on him?”
Writhing like a snake, I do what I can to escape the umbra’s hold on me, but it only increases its heavy pressure, pinning me to the bed as if I’m nothing but a rag doll.
Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. I stuff the growing anxiety back where it came from. Breathe. Focus.
“If he didn’t want you alive, I would snap your neck right now.”
I grip the hilt of my dagger more tightly. Why can’t the minister just let me go? Is it that important for him to set an example?
Although it’s close, it’s still hard to tell exactly where it is in the darkness. All I have to go by is its voice and the hand pinning me down. I slam the dagger into where I assume the center of the umbra to be.
A spine-chilling screech permeates the silence.
I must have hit the mark. For a heartbeat, the darkness wavers, giving me an indication of its position.
Before it has time to move, I slam the dagger back in.
Once. Twice. Unable to stop myself, I stab it again and again, faster than I thought humanly possible.
The piercing scream intensifies, demanding all my attention to keep from blocking my ears. There.
The vacuum bursts, taking the oppressive darkness with it.
A tremor runs through me as I stare at the black smoke, illuminated by the Celestial Moon’s silvery light streaming through our small window.
I glance down at my white-knuckled fingers still clutching the dagger, then over at Vilder and Seniia where they sit up in their beds, eyes wide.
I must be a sight to behold, my body shaking, hair wild, and black dagger in hand.
Seniia gathers her senses first. Scrambling to her feet, she shakes her body, then rushes over to where I now sit at the edge of my bunk. She squats down in front of me.
“Are you all right?”
Am I? There’s already so much going on that I have a hard time keeping up with it in my own life, and now I have to worry about the minister tracking my every move as well.
It’s already more than enough to handle with Llyr.
And then there are the dreams. And Astēr.
I can’t believe Casimir killed his mate as if she was nothing but an afterthought.
I bite my lip, studying the hands resting in my lap, still trembling.
They’re mine, but they look foreign to me now.
I’m a killer. It was an umbra, yes, but it was a human once .
. . Does this change me somehow? I grit my teeth.
Burn me. What have I ever done to be in the midst of such a mess?
Pressing my lips together, I nod. “I’m fine.”
I’m not.
“Did a human just save my life?” Vilder shakes his head in disbelief.
I toss a glance in his direction, barely noticing that he’s shirtless, revealing a well-toned upper body, his arms and chest covered with foreign golden glyphs.
“She did,” Seniia quips.
“You can’t be serious . . .” Vilder’s voice trails off.
I cast another glance toward him, and the way he stares at me with a mix of awe and wonder sends a flush of heat into my cheeks. Then I realize he’s not looking at me. He’s looking at my dagger.
“Is that what I think it is?” Vilder says, eyes wide. He drags his gaze from the dagger to me. “Can I touch it?”
Seniia’s attention turns toward the dagger in my hand. A frown creases her pretty face. “Is that the shadowshard?” Her gaze flickers from me to the dagger and back again. “How on Reā did you get your hands on that?”
Having no idea what they’re talking about, I shrug and hand the dagger to Vilder.
“I . . . stole it,” I say sheepishly. “From Llyr.” I glance between them. “It wasn’t affected by the brace, and I needed something to defend myself,” I add quickly, scared they’ll judge me. Think me untrustworthy. A thief.
Seniia shrugs. “We don’t like Llyr anyway, do we? I’d say you deserve that blade, right, Vilder?”
Vilder nods, though I’m not sure he’s paying attention to us. Lost in the shard, he studies the dagger from all angles, then lets out a low whistle.
“Unbelievable,” he whispers to himself. “It is the shadowshard.” He looks up. “I wonder how Llyr got his hands on one of the twin shards,” he says as he offers the dagger to Seniia. “You have to feel this. Its powers are immense.” There’s so much awe in his voice.
She takes it almost reverently, her eyes widening slightly upon touching it. “Is that what you used to take out . . . whatever that thing was?”
“It was an umbra,” Vilder says.
I narrow my eyes. “Have you encountered one before?”
He shakes his head. “No. But I’ve heard all the tales and recognized the signs.
” His eyes lock with mine. “Impenetrable darkness, the total silence, not to mention the rotten stench.” He ticks off each of the signs on his fingers as he speaks.
“I must admit, I wasn’t sure the stories about them were real, and I never thought I would meet one myself .
. .” He trails off, lost in thought for a moment.
“I honestly thought I was dead. That we all were.” He gives me his brightest smile yet, sporting dimples on both sides. “Until a human saved our asses.”
“I don’t know what’s more impressive,” Seniia says. “Being saved from an umbra by a human or Vilder stringing more than two sentences together.” She taps her nose with her index finger. “I’m inclined to be most impressed by the latter.”
A dagger whirls past me, spearing the wall right next to where Seniia sits, taking with it a piece of her powder-pink hair.
I stare at Vilder in shock, but Seniia throws her head back and laughs. “You missed.” She winks at him, and I make a mental note to ask him to teach me how to handle my dagger.
“Say that again, and you’ll find out.” He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest, remarkably relaxed for someone who thought he was dead just minutes ago.
How did they do that? I can’t help but admire how easily the Reāns seem to shake off their fear and let things go.
Seniia hands me the shadowshard, and I tuck it back into my belt while Vilder finally has the decency to pull a shirt over his head.
“What’s it made of that makes it so special?” I ask. “The shadowshard.”
“Well, the stone of the shadowshard is nightstone, but its magic was likely forged inside the nebula. The legend says the two twin shards—one light, one dark—carry the essence of the two primordial deities, Mah and Zerex, respectively.” Vilder gets up to open the door, and despite his size, he’s nearly run over by his wolf as it storms into our small cabin.
“I’m fine, Gray,” he says as he falls back onto his bed, allowing the wolf to stand over him. “The human saved me.”
Gray cocks her head at him.
“La?na,” he says, gesturing toward me.
The wolf turns toward me, immediately captivating me with the intelligence shining through her eyes. She stares at me for a moment, then lowers her head in what I can only assume is a gesture of gratitude.
“She understands you?” I ask, a little perplexed.
“Something like that,” he says, pushing the wolf off of him. He makes his way back up onto his feet and crosses our berth in two strides.
From the corner of my eye, I notice there’s a slight narrowing to Seniia’s eyes, but she doesn’t comment, so I stay silent as well.
He pats Gray on the head. “Let’s get some fresh air, girl.” Retrieving his knife from the wall, he gives us a curt nod. “Later, ladies.”
I stare at the door for a moment before I sink back on my bed. Seniia takes a seat by my side and grabs my hand, two worried lines between her brows. “You’re shaking.”
Pulling my hand out of her grasp, I roll over onto my side, my back facing her.
I draw my knees toward my chest, curling up into a ball, but I’m unable to stop the shaking.
The minister clearly wants me dead and will not give up until he succeeds.
Parts of me wishes I were back being a property for Master Coperie, however horrible it was. Life was predictable, at least.
They would have burned you eventually.
It’s what they do to women who don’t bleed, as if we’re nothing but livestock they can’t bother to feed when we can’t reproduce. If it weren’t illegal for men to sexually interact with women who don’t bleed, we would probably be sold into prostitution instead.
Seniia strokes my back and my hair in long, soothing movements. “You are allowed to be scared,” she says.
Not knowing what to say, I remain silent. It’s surprisingly comfortable like this, the only sound the calming rhythm of her heart as I lie beside her.