Page 57 of Sun, Moon & Shadow (Fate of Aemoria #1)

The arid air turned misty and cool as they reached the northern coast, the sun hanging low in the sky like a ripe fruit. Callan and Lucan led the patchwork band of riders, as varied in appearance as their horses, behind the large rocky outcrop that had shielded their position only days before.

The archers had ridden two to a horse. Even so, more than two dozen weary animals needed to be fed and watered.

Nova slid down from the saddle and guided Shade by the bridle to a spring bubbling out of the ground a short distance away, its peaceful murmuring leading her to it.

She crouched at the edge of the reflective pool as her horse drank greedily beside her.

Nova lowered the kerchief covering the bottom half of her face and eyed her reflection on the mirrorlike surface of the water.

The face peering out at her was at once familiar and unrecognizable: pale eyes shadowed with the rage it took all her energy to mask.

She dipped her hands into the pool, bringing the cool liquid to her lips and swallowing several mouthfuls before rubbing the excess over her sweat-covered forehead smudged with dust. Tiny waves rippled through her reflection, warping her features.

She rejoined the others moments later, everyone spread out, sitting on rocks and sharpening weapons or leaning back against the leafless desert trees.

Scanning the area for Callan, her eyes met the golden amber of Lucan’s instead.

An almost imperceptible lift of his brows told her Callan was on top of the rock.

In the late-afternoon light, she climbed to the slanted summit, carefully choosing where to step, and crawled silently to crouch at his side.

He lay flat, peering through a spyglass.

For an instant, he glanced away from the viewfinder, acknowledging her with a friendly, albeit distracted, grunt.

With her naked eye, she could barely make out the mouth of the cave that had been her prison and nearly her tomb.

Callan’s spyglass was pointed to an area farther east, beyond the foot of the mountain, where the land sloped gradually out of view toward the sea.

“We’ve sent two of the Silvergardian archers as scouts to assess the situation,” he said quietly, returning to the viewfinder. “They should return within the hour with a report.”

Nova smiled at this Callan and his gruff demeanor, so different from the gentleness he had always shown her. It appeared she wasn’t the only one who wore a mask from time to time. Callan retracted the spyglass and slid it back into the folds of his cloak.

He looked at her briefly, catching her smile before she could tuck it away.

“What?” he asked, a bit bashful. “Sorry. I have to stay focused when I’m on a mission like this. Cut myself off from my emotions. Avoid distractions.”

“I understand,” she said, nodding. “Sometimes setting emotions aside is the surest way to survive.”

Nova stretched out flat on her stomach, arms crossed in front of her with her chin resting on the back of her hand.

“You should rest,” he whispered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be right here keeping watch.”

Nova breathed deeply and tilted her head to rest in the crook of her elbow. Callan’s lips brushed against her cheek, and she soon drifted off to sleep.

A short while later, Nova awoke to Callan’s firm hand on her shoulder. She dashed the sleep from her eyes and followed him down the rock face. The archers had returned from their scouting mission, and everyone formed a circle around them.

“Much has changed since the last scouts’ report,” the female archer called Zara began, her dark curls blowing in the breeze. “Three ships sit anchored offshore. We estimate the vessels carried an additional two hundred soldiers, which are now encamped just beyond the mountain’s edge.”

“Well, fuck,” Lucan said matter-of-factly, scratching his scalp above his ear and looking at Callan. In fact, Nova realized, everyone was looking at Callan.

“What’ll it be, Your Grace?” Arik asked. “Would you have us return to the capital and wait for reinforcements?”

Callan took a few slow steps in one direction before turning and pacing back in the other.

Nova knew his mind was whirring, evaluating the potential risks posed by continuing with their original plan in light of this new information.

He stopped pacing after a moment and turned to face the group gathered before him.

“No.” He shook his head, his mouth a grim line. “There isn’t time. I believe we can still make our original plan work ... more or less.”

Callan looked to Lucan, who silently made his own evaluation before nodding his agreement.

“Callan’s right,” Lucan said. “If we don’t settle this now, those soldiers will be on those ships, sailing down the coast toward the Estate within a day. The risk to the throne and the civilians in the capital is too great. We have to end this.”

“So, what’s the plan, Cal?” Fawn asked.

Callan cleared his throat. He seemed to have only just registered the weight of everyone’s eyes on him.

“The entire camp will be waking soon. Though they’ll be awake, we can still catch them off guard, using the darkness to our advantage while they eat and prepare for their duties.

“Evander will lead the archers onto the ridge where Zara surveyed the encampment, setting up a covert line. Arik, you’ll lead your team to surround the camp on foot.

Between the archers and your blades, we’ll dispatch as many sentries posted around the perimeter as we can. Quickly. Quietly. Efficiently.

“Lucan and Fawn will head for the shoreline. Once we’ve removed the sentries guarding the camp, we’ll need a diversion.” Callan turned to Fawn. “Do you think you can manage something?”

She snapped her fingers, a ball of flame igniting in the palm of her hand for an instant before she made a fist, snuffing it out.

“Oh, I can manage.”

“Good. Once Fawn creates a distraction, the camp will likely fall into disorder. We’ll use the confusion to our advantage as well, taking soldiers by surprise as we sweep through the camp toward the general’s tent.

As for the general ...” Callan glanced around at the group, avoiding Nova’s eyes.

“Leave him to me. We move out once we hear the horns rousing the soldiers.”

Callan turned and strode off toward the spring without a word to Nova.

The others jumped into action, rushing to prepare for the orders they’d been given.

Nova’s cheeks burned as she pursued Callan.

Lucan tried to intercept her but stepped out of her path, holding his hands up submissively, when he registered the fury written plainly on her face.

It was quiet in the fading light. The only noise was the babbling of the spring and Callan splashing water over his face. He looked up from where he crouched at the water’s edge when Nova’s boots halted beside him.

“What was that?” she asked, trying, and mostly failing, to keep her voice level.

Callan rose to his feet. He raked his damp fingers through the length of his dark hair and secured it at the back of his head.

“What was what?”

“Don’t be coy, Callan,” she said, her anger an animal tugging at its tether. “Surely you realize you gave everyone a part to play in this mission except me.”

His mouth was drawn, the lines and hollows of his face accentuated by shadow in the low light. The muscles in his cheeks fluttered as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

“I can’t risk it,” he said finally. “I can’t risk you.”

“So, I’m expected to do what, exactly? Mind the horses?” She scoffed. “You included me in the plan before.”

“When I thought fifty soldiers stood between us and General Idrian—not two hundred and fifty.” He, too, was struggling to keep his voice even.

“What’s the difference? If our plan works, the archers and Arik’s warriors will take out the sentries, Fawn’s diversion will send the rest of the soldiers scrambling, and we’ll be picking them off, one by one, on our way to Idrian.”

He didn’t respond, turning his face away from her. She took a step closer. Their bodies were practically touching.

“You don’t think I can do it,” she murmured, the realization striking her like a slap in the face. “Look at me, Callan.”

His eyes were apologetic when he finally faced her.

“That’s not true.” His fingers closed gently around her biceps. “But these are trained killers, Nova. Their only aim in life is the complete destruction of their enemies. A couple of months ago, you’d never even held a sword, let alone killed anyone.”

Nova stepped out of his loose grip, flexing her hands and bringing her arms to rest at her sides. She blinked once, banishing the tears gathering behind her eyes, her features melting into a blank expression.

“I’m not the fragile female you found in Timberfell.”

“I know. I know you’re not.” Callan’s words spilled out of him as he tried to take her hands in his. “But I cannot bear it. What if I can’t protect you like I couldn’t protect my parents?”

“You must stop blaming yourself, Callan. You would have been no match for Omen’s dark magic.”

“Then at least I could have died beside them!” His voice broke, the agony in it cutting through her rage.

He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again.

“Somehow, I’ve managed to live this long without them.

I used to think it was a cruel punishment from the gods, forcing me to go on, forever carrying the burden of my shame.

Now, I believe every year—every godsdamned second—I spent living in pain was so I could find you.

I wasn’t truly living until I met you. If anything were to happen .

..” He paused and shook his head ruefully, throat bobbing. “I don’t think I could survive it.”

Nova froze, caught up in the wake of his declaration, momentarily losing sight of her anger.

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” she said, finding a shred of indignation to latch onto.

“Why are you fighting me?” he asked, his voice desperate. “Why won’t you let me protect you?”

“I don’t need your protection. I’ve taken two lives in as many days—one practically with my bare hands—protecting myself . You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

Nova turned away from him, walking back to where the others were gathered, waiting.

“I’m only trying to help you,” he called out after her, sounding defeated.

“I don’t want your help, Callan,” she said flatly, throwing him a look over her shoulder. “I want your respect.”

Callan tilted his head back, lifted his eyes to the sky, and ran his hands roughly over his face.

“Fuck.” The curse left his lips so quietly, only the first stars winking against the deepening purple backdrop heard him.

He knew Nova. Knew she’d spent her life convincing herself and everyone else that she didn’t need anyone.

Now he’d acted as if he saw her not as an equal but as a charge, defenseless without him to shield her.

It wasn’t how he saw her. She was a fighter.

A warrior. He’d seen it when she defeated the lycane.

He’d told her as much when they were standing on the rampart overlooking the autumn forest in Pyralis and he offered to train her.

But he couldn’t ease the sinking feeling in his gut.

Couldn’t silence the bond telling him he would die without her.

Couldn’t allow himself to contemplate a world without her in it.

Callan had never realized how much love and fear went hand in hand.

And now the fear of acknowledging his love for her had been replaced by the all-consuming fear of losing what was most precious to him.

Callan tugged on his gloves once again and flexed his hands, breathing deeply before striding back across the sand.

There was no time to waste. Once the deed was done, once Idrian was dead, he would do everything in his power to earn Nova’s forgiveness.

But first, he needed to focus on leading the others into battle.

When he reached the base of the massive rock, Nova was nowhere in sight. Their connection, passing between them like an invisible thread on a loom, had only intensified since their bodies had joined. Through it, he sensed her presence on the summit above.

The archers stood at the ready behind Evander, outfitted with longbows and full quivers.

Arik’s force of warriors waited in formation behind him, their hair braided or tied back, cloaks removed for ease of movement.

Fawn stood nearby, shifting from foot to foot, practically humming with eager energy, while Lucan leaned casually against a boulder beside her.

Callan threw off his own cloak and rolled his neck and shoulders, joints popping faintly as they loosened in preparation for the fight to come.

He looked around and nodded once, the motion a silent order to move out.

Lucan caught up to him as they passed swiftly over the sand toward the foot of the mountain.

“Looks like you stepped in shit,” the commander teased, keeping pace with Callan’s determined strides.

Callan said nothing but shot his new friend a look that plainly said, Back off .

“If you live, perhaps she’ll be so relieved she’ll forget whatever you did to piss her off so badly.” Lucan slapped him on the back and jogged ahead to join up with Fawn.

Callan focused on his breathing, setting aside his emotions and shifting his attention to the hundreds of soldiers rising from their cots in the enemy encampment ahead.