Chapter 49 Shade
Shade
Iwas damned tired of being drugged and blindfolded.
They kept me dosed with that awful fucking powder, puffing it into my face every time I began to move or struggle.
If they dosed me heavily, I fell completely unconscious.
But if I held my breath and remained limp, the dose wasn’t as effective—merely blurring my senses and making me feel drunk and dizzy.
Being without eyesight was extraordinarily inconvenient.
I wasn’t entirely helpless, though.
The sun was bright and beaming, shooing my shadows into submission.
But they were still there, even if they were subtle. My shadowy wisps were able to explore, peek, sense.
I jolted. Wisps. I held my breath, focusing on that small wisp I usually left with Ginger.
It twitched somewhere beneath my foot.
I exhaled, deflating. It must have returned while I was unconscious.
I returned my focus to the situation at hand.
The group of knights had split into two, I could determine that much. Where the second group had gone was a mystery to me—didn’t they need all available hands to protect their dangerous, dangerous cargo?
I was surprised they hadn’t killed me already. Half of me expected them to try as soon I was away from Moonvale.
Maybe the honor was being saved for their King—the one who clearly couldn’t handle the mere threat of my existence. Our existence—the gods.
I was being kept in some sort of tent in the depths of the Barren Lands.
They had unceremoniously yanked me off the horse, shoved me into a chair, and tied me to it. No wind caressed my skin, and the smell of stale magic was suffocating. A binding spell, perhaps.
It didn’t seem to work on me, I couldn’t feel it pressing on my skin, but I remained seated, nonetheless.
I couldn’t tell how much time passed since my initial capture—minutes, hours, days. I didn’t sleep, but the dust had a similar effect, I assumed, rendering me nearly unconscious.
The knights, though, clearly needed their rest.
And sustenance, which I couldn’t help but notice they didn’t provide for me. They must have known, then, that I didn’t require food to survive. Or they were content to let me starve.
That thought was… troubling.
I took to combing through my memory to pass the time—sorting through any memories I had regained, solidifying any new memories from my time in Moonvale, and pushing through any lingering painful blockades that remained. The effort was agonizing, like forcing my brain to liquify, but I persisted.
A trickle of wetness dripped down my nose, over my lips, collecting at the collar of my tunic.
I kept pushing.
When I met a block, I pushed harder.
Memories rotated, flipped, snapped into place.
A shout from the knights broke me from my painful musings.
My shadows roiled and churned, stronger now. Night had fallen.
The effort to control them was painful, my swollen mind struggling and sluggish, but they obeyed.
There was a ruckus outside. The knights jumped up, frantic, scrambling for their swords and armor.
They had clearly gotten comfortable, pouring ales and stripping to avoid the heat, and I was grateful for that.
They were caught off guard.
I wished silently that the ruckus was some sort of beast arriving to tear the men apart so I wouldn’t have to. Or, even better, another god, come to set me free.
My shadows spread, casting a thin, wide net.
A chorus of feet echoed in the distance. My cheek twitched.
A group was approaching—a big one.
This should be interesting.
I wanted to see.
Subtly, in case someone was watching, I forced my shadows into finger-like tendrils. I used one to shove the blindfold from my eyes. It was a huge relief to be able to see again. I used the next tendril to coax the tent flap open.
I was right about our location—we were somewhere deep in the Barren Lands, surrounded by nothing but rolling hills of dust and dirt. I shivered.
This place still felt wrong. At least now I knew why.
The knights were quickly trying to pack up their camp, but they were sluggish, probably drunk.
Celebrating their triumph a bit too early.
Idiots.
The approaching figures crested the hill, finally coming into view.
My heart jumped to my throat.
I recognized those figures.
Leading the charge, a pair of antlers sticking up over a small silhouette, was Ginger.
A smile broke across my face.
And then the knights pulled their swords free.
The smile dropped, and I began to struggle in earnest, begging my shadows to unbind the ropes tying me down.
That’s when the first burst of fire ripped across the open space.
“Ah! Ember, don’t aim for them, aim in front of them!”
The vampire’s voice was impressively loud, shrieking over the commotion.
Smoke churned and billowed, mixing with my shadows, strengthening them. The tiny dragon had nearly incinerated my captors, missing them only barely. I was sure they were at least blistered—the heat was impressive.
The release of ancient magic fueled me, bolstered me, settled into my bones.
Screams of pain echoed, followed by the smell of burnt flesh.
Powerful little beast. I grinned.
The ropes binding me fell away as useless scraps. I rose to my feet and stepped out of the tent.
I felt wobbly for a moment—an after effect of the drug, I was sure—but I stood my ground.
A knight noticed my presence, but before he could scream and alert the others, my shadows swarmed down his throat, choking off his voice. His eyes bulged in his head and his cheeks paled.
It would be so easy to kill him. Effortless. But I snatched my shadows from his windpipe before his heart stopped beating, and he slumped over, merely unconscious.
Tommins broke through the crowd, headed right for me. He had an axe strapped to his winged back, one that was clearly used for chopping wood.
I had to glance again—yes, those were indeed wings. Great golden things, tucked in neatly. I nodded in quiet approval.
“What are you fools doing here?” I asked.
He exhaled sharply. “Don’t go with them.”
My brows rose. Around us, the knights were at a standstill, clearly outnumbered and overpowered, based on the rich smell of fresh magic blooming in the air. They didn’t know what to do.
Just as I previously assumed—idiots. Puny cowards.
“Is this a rescue mission, then?”
“It is. Will you come back with us?”
I gestured to the knights. “What about them? They won’t give up, now that they know I’m here.”
“We will figure it out, take it day by day,” Tommins insisted.
Three small bodies took flight, the suns behind the lingering smoke making their shadows appear much larger. The knights screamed, running for their horses.
“Dragons! Dragons!” they screamed. “Run!”
They left their unpacked supplies, determined to flee.
And I was apparently forgotten about.
“Well, I suppose that fixes that problem,” I mused.
Tommins nodded. “They’ll be back, I’m sure. And we will deal with that when it happens.”
“We will?”
He hesitated, as though questioning the action, before thumping my shoulder twice and letting his hand fall awkwardly back to his side. “We will. Moonvale doesn’t sacrifice her folk, not even the newer ones. Not even gods.”
A weird, warm sensation crept down my throat. “Okay, then.”
As the knights fled into the distance, a small beast barreled toward me. Brambleby plowed into my arms with almost enough force to knock me over.
The air rushed out of my chest with an oomph, but the dragon wriggled happily when I caught him and hoisted him up. “Oh!” I exclaimed. “Hello, small beast.”
The dragon huffed out an excited breath. It was the most energy I had ever seen from the small, drowsy creature.
Ginger approached shortly after, her breath coming in short bursts. “Hi,” she said.
“Hello, Ginger. I take it this was your idea?” I asked, gesturing to the crowd.
“Somewhat. Actually, they didn’t take any convincing.”
“Really?” I asked, doubtful.
She nodded. “You made an impression, I suppose.”
“I do have that effect on folk,” I joked.
She grinned. “So humble of you, God of Shadows.”
Brambleby wriggled out of my arms, heaving like he was going to throw up. I hastily placed him on the ground. He gagged, coughed, and then choked.
And then, he spat up a mouthful of something that looked like smoke but didn’t have any heat.
When the fog-like substance dissipated, the smell of dirt and dust plumed in the air.
And a small, singular blade of grass sprouted from the rocky ground.