chapter twenty-three #2
I frown at him, thinking back to when I first met him in Tierra. “Because it recognized me?” At least, that was what he said back then.
“Yes.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you want me to live.”
“Who says I do not recognize you as well?”
I lean back, arms folded across my chest. “Recognize me as what, exactly? And don’t you dare tell me, It is for me to know.”
“It is for you to know.” He continues to eat, unbothered by my frustration.
“You should know I cannot know what is for you to know, but then again, you do not know much, so who am I to know?” He chuckles again at my deadpan expression, then empties his mug of spiced wine, and it’s all I can do to not stab him with my fork.
If I weren’t so busy using it to stuff my mouth, I probably would.
“I can see you have become little wiser since last we met, so if you will ever know still remains a mystery.”
Ignoring him, I turn my attention back to my food. At least he’s helping me.
I bring an olive closer to my nose. Is it rotten? I open my mouth to ask Ero, then notice his clenched jaw and the tension in his shoulders. I turn to follow his gaze.
“Don’t.”
I snap my attention back to him just as a bone-chilling silence descends, leaving the room frozen in a stillness so profound it is like a vacuum. Three tall shadows, cloaked in darkness, glide into the room, accompanied by the all-too-familiar stench of decay.
They’re here for me.
I share a glance with Ero, his eyes telling me to stay calm. With my back toward the room, I can’t see much of what’s going on. All I can do is trust Ero when he signals for me to not move.
“We are searching for a young human-looking girl,” one of the umbra says in its slithering voice a couple tables down.
The Kabarian female huffs at the umbra, as if its soul-chilling presence is nothing out of the ordinary.
“Humans in Kabar are dead.”
The Kabarians really seem to fear nothing.
One of the three umbra heads up the stairs toward the rooms on the second floor, its dark form melding with the shadows of the dimly lit staircase, while one hovers near the corner of the room, engaged in a hushed conversation with the innkeeper.
The last of the three moves around the room, questioning everyone, and I brace myself as it draws nearer to our table.
“Keep your head down.” Ero’s voice is barely a murmur.
“We are searching for a young human-looking girl.” The proximity of the umbra’s voice sends a shiver down my spine, and my right hand glides toward the shadowshard where it’s strapped around my left forearm.
Its focus is on Ero, and I’m praying it will simply dismiss me as unimportant.
Then the umbra freezes, and my stomach drops as it slowly tilts its head up, sniffing the air.
I barely hear Ero’s cry over the hiss of the umbra as it spins toward me and, in one swift motion, yanks down my hood.
“You,” the umbra hisses, and a gasp goes through the room as my very human ears are exposed to the world.
Great. Now it’s not only the umbra who wants me dead, but also twenty-something Kabarians.
I seize the shadowshard and, before anyone reacts, plunge the dagger into the umbra’s heartless chest. A horrifying shriek, sharp and high-pitched, like nails on a chalkboard, cuts through the silence of the room as the blade finds its mark in the creature’s shadowy form.
Then all that’s left is the black smoke and a strong smell of decay.
I glance around at the frozen crowd surrounding me.
It won’t last for long. I watch with horror as their momentarily stunned expressions change to furious hate in an instant, all but one pair of eyes gleaming with the promise of imminent death.
“Move, La?na!” Ero shouts, and in the fraction of a heartbeat where everyone is still caught up in hesitation, he grabs my robe and drags me toward the door. The moment the cool night air envelops my skin, the pits of doom explode inside.
I sprint toward Maeve, who’s tied up by the water trough, almost stumbling in my stupid silken robe.
My dagger slices through her rope, and I launch myself onto her back in one swift movement.
“Run!” I yell, giving her sides a frantic kick, and she sets off down the road, nearly running over the stable boy in our escape.
Daring a glance over my shoulder, I notice Ero close behind me.
The thundering hooves of the horses resonate through the ground as we gallop away with reckless abandon, desperate to escape the bloodthirsty crowd.
Despite our speed, I can hear shouts and voices; the Kabarians are not far behind.
“Let me distract them,” Ero says. “I will be safe,” he adds. “I am C’elēn. They are not.”
“What about the umbra?” I shout as we race down the dirt road.
“I will be fine,” he repeats. “There is a path to the right behind the next bend. It will lead you north through the woods toward the Common Territories.” There is no room for argument in his voice, so I nod, signaling to him that I understand our plan.
“Now!” Ero yells, and I take a sharp right while Ero continues west. I have no idea where I am, but I’ll just have to trust Ero’s word that I’m moving in the right direction.
Branches slap my face as Maeve races through the dense forest, and I press myself close to her neck to avoid the hits. I can hardly distinguish the path in front of me, but Maeve seems to know where to go, so I give her free rein and trust her to find the way out of this maze.
IT MUST BE BELLS LATER when I finally decide to slow down.
I have no idea what time it is, but the moons are all hanging high in the sky, making me think it’s sometime after midnight.
I’ve been pushing Maeve hard, so I get off of her and walk for a while to give her a break.
The thick canopy makes it almost impossible to make out the path in front of me, but every once in a while, the moons’ rays light up the path, giving me direction.
The Celestial Moon is waning, half its light already faded, but Cyra’s pink and Briah’s blue moon are full, their combined light creating a violet glow over the forest.
The path is becoming increasingly overgrown, and the pressing silence of the forest envelops me like a suffocating cloak as I navigate through the vegetation, occasionally pushing aside branches and wincing as their thorns prick my skin.
The once-stunning Kabarian robe I wear is now in tatters.
Hopefully I won’t require its use in the future.
I jump as a gust of wind howls through the trees, and Maeve lets out a soft whinny.
Calm down, La?na, it’s just the wind.
“It’s all right, Maeve,” I say, more to calm myself than her, as I stop to take in our surroundings.
The way the trees sway, their twisted branches reaching toward me like gnarled fingers, makes it seem as though the very woods are alive.
My heart beats like a drum in my chest, its sound loud in the eerie silence.
I take a look around. I’ve entered a small clearing, and the light of the moons filters through the canopy above, causing the tall trees to cast long shadows on the forest floor.
Except for the wind whispering through the trees, everything is as silent as it can be. Yet unease prickles at my skin.
“I suppose this is as good a spot as any to rest for the night,” I tell Maeve, guiding her to a small creek so we can both quench our thirst. Peeling off the tattered Kabarian silk robe, I stuff it into my satchel and pull on thick black leggings and a wool tunic.
Then I roll out the bedroll Ero so kindly gifted me—he was much more prepared for long-distance travel than I was—and wrap myself in my wool cloak, not bothering with, or daring, a fire.
Lying on my back in the clearing, I stare up at the treetops. You can do this, La?na. You may have lost Ero, but he was never part of your plan to begin with. You can make it on your own. I have my pack, I have Maeve, and I have the soul star of Mah to guide me.
“Good night, Maeve,” I whisper to the horse. I’m out almost before the words leave my lips.
THE AIR CARRIES A HEAVY sort of stillness, only broken by the faint sound of the wind whistling through the ruins. I stare at the towering mountain range before me, its jagged peaks reaching toward the sky.
This is where Nana was killed.
My eyes sweep across the debris-strewn floor, a mosaic of dust and stones. The remnants of the once-grand throne room are now reduced to rubble, the walls demolished, and the rest of the fortress, though still standing, bears the scars of a brutal battle.
Who did this?
I flinch as I catch sight of at least two dozen lifeless bodies, all punctured by sharp shards of glass or stone.
One victim hangs limp several feet from the ground, his body at an awkward angle, speared through by a wooden pole.
It’s as if he was haphazardly thrown, and that’s where he was unlucky enough to land.
The macabre scene is nothing if not a tableau of death and destruction.
Drawn by a flicker of movement amidst the devastation, I drift closer. Whoever it is, I thought him dead, but as I near him, it’s clear that although weary, he’s alive. I soar closer. The male covers his face with trembling hands, his body shaking. Then he tilts his face toward the sky and screams.
My heart stops. I would recognize his face anywhere. Astēr. Then I notice the lifeless body he was slumping over. Nana.
I squeeze my eyes tight, wishing to silence his screams. The agony of his wails reminds me of another night.
Another lifeless body, cradled in the minister’s arms. The piercing scream of a mother losing a child.
I thought I’d never hear anything as heart-wrenching again in my life. I was wrong. That was nothing.