Page 33 of Marked

Every part of Blair felt weak, either from last night and the way her body was ravaged repeatedly or the packing that followed. They had picked essentials that they would need for hiking and camping.

After spending the early hours entangled together, they had gathered their belongings and left the cottage. While strapping the packs to their backs, Damien had told Blair that they would be traveling to meet his friend.

Blair had been walking behind Damien for about an hour, watching the environment change around them from a small, busy town to a green, rural area. He had paused many times already to check in on her, giving her a minute to stretch her legs and adjust the weight she carried.

Even with the extra breaks, Blair's legs were screaming as she continued to follow his long strides.

"So, how do you know this guy we're meeting?" Blair asked, stepping over a large rock and catching her balance quickly before having to step over another.

"He's an old friend." was Damien's only reply. Blair paused and looked up at Damien .

"Follow-up question: We didn't get a letter, and there was no runner from the guild.

So, how do you know where to go? What time to be there?

" She continued walking, waiting for a reply from him.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye as they moved forward a few more feet.

His body glistened in sheer sweat even though he showed no signs of being tired.

She waited for an answer as their feet moved, the forest around them alive with different sounds.

The trees around the trail they followed were stretched high overhead, branches tangling like they were hugging each other.

Sunlight filtered through in threads, not beams, lighting a patterned path ahead of them.

She stepped over another fallen log, boots crunching faintly on the bed of dead leaves, and asked again. "Are you still thinking about the answer, or is that your way of telling me you don't want me to know?"

Damien didn't slow but tilted his head slightly toward her. "It's not that. It's just not my secret to give away."

Blair straightened at the intriguing words, "I'm keeping your secret, aren't I?" She made a movement with her fingers, crossing them over her heart.

He watched her, not replying immediately. His eyes, a cool slate blue, scanned the narrow trail ahead, and for a moment, Blair thought he might ignore the question entirely. But then, softly, he gave her the answer:

"He came to me. In a dream."

Blair raised a brow and stopped moving mid-step. "I'm sorry..What? "

Damien stopped walking and lowered his head with a grunt.

The wind stirred his coat as he turned toward her, "I don't mean an average dream that most people have," he said.

"It's how he communicates. He uses his shadows and steps through them. Most of the time it’s to send messages.

He visited me two nights ago, showed me an old building and the day to be there, that was all. "

Blair cocked her head to the side in fascination and folded her arms. "You're saying he sends you shadow visions in your sleep?"

He nodded once. "Every shadowborn is different, remember? His ability is to communicate through dreams. It's how we've stayed in contact through the years."

"That's a hell of a trick," she muttered.

Damien's expression darkened just a little.

"It used to be more than that. When I first met him, he could reach across continents.

He'd send warnings about how enforcers were going to train us.

There were times I would dream about a certain person being wrapped in shadows, and I would wake up with that person gone, betrayed by their shadows, causing their body to reject them. "

Blair stepped closer, voice gentler now. "He was from your camp too?"

He looked at her and nodded, turning back toward the large trees that now lined the path.

"He was one of the leaders. Though, he was really just there to make sure the kids survived everything.

The longer he was there, the more he got in trouble for helping and they would hurt him.

Over time, it affected his abilities and his gift became worn.

He was forced out before I left." Damien moved forward, eyeing the tree line like he was searching for the building he had mentioned.

"He's checked on me over the years. He can still communicate, but it's as if he's far away or the world is too loud.

The visions come less clearly. Like I'm underwater. "

Blair studied him as she watched his face and listened to another piece of his past.

"Why do I get the feeling you feel bad for him? Were you guys close?"

Damien's reply was short, "Yeah, he's probably the reason I survived as long as I did. I owe him a lot."

They resumed walking, the trees closing in tighter as the path narrowed.

Every now and then, Blair would glance at Damien, wondering how many stories lay behind those blue eyes.

He didn't talk about his past easily, just fragments here and there when she asked specific questions.

But this friend, this dream shadow-speaker, mattered.

That much was clear. After a long stretch of silence, Blair spoke again.

"What's his name?"

Damien glanced sideways. "He doesn't use it anymore. Not the one I knew."

She blinked. "What do you call him?"

He exhaled, not quite a sigh.

"Back then, we called him Grei."

A crow called high above them, its voice harsh against the normal variety of chirping they heard. The trail curved downward, and through a break in the trees, they glimpsed something ahead. A small white building came into view, disheveled and half-swallowed by decay .

Blair slowed. "Is that the place?"

Damien's eyes were fixed on the building and the small items that surrounded it.

The gravel below them turned into soft dirt as the small building that had appeared grew larger. The more they approached the building, the more small statues appeared in the land around it, along with large crosses and boxes that were protruding from the ground.

As Blair passed them, she noticed names etched on each one, along with weathered flowers. A graveyard. The realization made her more aware of where she stepped. Applying pressure to only the tips of her toes, she dodged around patches of disturbed ground.

When they were a few feet from their destination, the structure became clear.

Small and white, the building was barely standing.

The roof was caved in, with small beams of exposed wood running across the top and some shingles still attached in random places.

Most of the exterior paint was chipped away or weather-worn, bearing slats of wood underneath.

The outside walls were covered in vines that grew up and over the foundation.

Remnants of a stained-glass window adorned the front.

As they stepped inside, they were met with the same haphazard interior.

The inside walls were dreary, with many holes decorating them.

The wallpaper was torn and stained as well as what was left of the carpet on the floor.

Broken wood was scattered in most of the room and a few pews were laid in lines. In the middle. A church .

Blair surveyed the rest of the room, following the vines that engrossed the corners, eventually landing on a figure that hid in the farthest shadows.

From what she could make out, it was a tall, thin figure wearing a large, forest-green, stained cloak.

The physique hinted that of a man, but Blair froze, eyeing Damien, who noticed him at the same time.

The shadows of the corner hid him well, and for most people, he would have stayed out of sight.

Stepping in front of her, Damien took her hand and led them toward the stranger.

"You're late." the man said, a thick Scottish accent coating his words.

As he stepped out of the shadows, Blair's eyes immediately landed on the scars that covered his face.

One eye was dark, so brown it was almost black but the other shone a milky blue, like he was injured or perhaps blind.

On that side of his face, the skin was puckered and scarred, from his chin to his hairline.

Other than the affected area, his skin was light, and his dark brown hair was secured in a small bun on the top of his head.

He eyed Blair up and down before landing his gaze on Damien.

Damien responded dryly as he walked up and shook the man’s hand. "The expected time wasn't exactly clear. Do you have it?"

Grei smirked slightly and pulled a folded sheet of parchment from his coat, plain and unsealed. "Straight to it, then." He handed the paper to Damien, "Six names. Real ones. Not the call signs they feed the lower ranks."

Damien moved the cream-colored sheet to the light and opened it just enough to see the contents.

Blair tensed, fighting the urge to crane her neck and read over his shoulder.

Damien's eyes wandered over the page as he began to read out loud, "Aenar Vos, Lira Vossin, Nova Scott, Kellen Smith.

..All of these are still active Hunters? "

Grei nodded, "Not just active. These are the assigned leaders and their stations.

Mostly Enforcers but some Phantoms. Take them out and the rest will scatter.

" He fumbled his hand into the pocket of his cloak and produced a cigarette and a match.

He lit it, the spark illuminating the scar and eye that now shimmered like glass.

Damien folded the paper and put it into his back pocket, "When was it last updated?"

Grei took a deep inhale and let out a breath of smoke,