Page 55 of Where Darkness Falls

Situations that would catch the watchful eye of an immoral king and his elite general and cadre.

My dear,Saoirse coos.I’m not implying that you weren’t justified in your actions, but sometimes people make choices because they feel like they have no other options—including the Cadre. King Tiernan is a vicious man, and you’ll need every ounce of strength you have to face him.

I wasn’t even strong enough to kill the captain, Saoirse,I say.

Perhaps not yet. Your ability is still very new to you. You must learn to hone it and not drain your reserves so quickly. That’s why you couldn’t defeat the captain—not because you’re incapable. Plus, your swordsmanship is quite atrocious, my dear. The General could help you—prepare you even,she replies.

I scoff.I don’t want his help nor do I need his training,I reply.

You might not have another choice,Saoirse says.From what I know of the Galrosan Demon King, his choices always end in bloodshed. You need to be ready to do whatever you must to survive. You are… special, Maeva. You’ve been selected by Siorai, which is a high honor.

I didn’t ask for any of this,I whisper.If being honored means losing everything I care about, then I don’t want it.

What else could I possibly give?

What else will be required of me to sacrifice?

How much farther can my heart possibly bend before it snaps?

I know, but it is your fate,replies Saoirse.Please, just think about all I have said. It’s late, and you need to rest.

Rolling into the pillow on that bumpy old cot, I ponder every tiny detail. Every time I think I know what’s happening to me, something new walks into my path. I’m sure there’s more that I must uncover, but why can’t I be told what will happen now? Why must I find the answers alone? What purpose does Siorai have for me? I wish just once the god would answer me…just this once.

Then, Saoirse’s idea about the High General teaching me not to drain my reserves causes my stomach to burn.

Can I trust the General to train me?

He already doesn’t like me very much, nor do I like him.

Plus, asking for his assistance would mean that I’d have to acknowledge that the captain almost killed me.

What if the General sees my failure as a weakness and decides to kill me anyway?

After all, the Cadre only believes I’m special for wearing the Dragon’s Flame pendant. Yet, any other group of men would be trying to come into this room right now. So far, there hasn’t been the slightest disturbance from any of them.

My eyes grow heavy, as one final thought crosses my mind:Perhaps they are not the monsters they appear to be…

That scares me the most.

“Are you insane?!”Maeva yells, pointing to my tall, black shadow horse. It’s barely past the early mist, and she’s already grating against the small amount of patience I actually have. I expected her to be shocked at first when she learned that we could summon our own steeds, but I hadn’t expected for her not to comply. Shadow horses are quite different from other specimens outside of Zulgalros in the fact that they are an extension of their riders’ signets. To injure a rider is to injure a shadow horse and vice versa. Most outside of Zulgalros are already leery of shadow horses–especially mine–as his head is nearly a foot above the others, including my cadre’s horses. Riordan, Virgil, and Laisren are already on their mounts, but I can feel their smirks radiating through their helmets as they watch this tiny woman throw a tantrum… over a horse.

Most women—Malvorian and Galrosan alike—love horses; however, she isn’t an ordinary woman.

No, I had to get stuck with one who is feral.

“I’m quite sound of mind, Miss Cale,” I reply.

She cuts her eyes from me to the horse, then back to me again. If dark ocean eyes could catch aflame, I’m sure I would’ve been incinerated by now. “Then you are insane! How do I even know if that—” she says, waving her hand in my horse’s direction, “—thing is safe?”

My mount snorts.

“I can assure you that this is perfectly safe, but you may want to mind your tone. Danté is quite sensitive to falsehoods,” I reply.

“Danté?” she asks.

“The horse’s name is Danté,” I sigh. “Yes, he has feelings and responds like any other creature. No, he isn’t going to fade away the moment you try to climb on his back…unless I tell him to.” I murmur that last bit lower than the rest, but I’m sure she heard it based on the daggers she’s mentally throwing at me.

Danté nudges me with his nose and whinnies. “Stay out of this,” I whisper to the meddling beast, turning my attention back to the feisty woman.