Page 14 of The King has Fallen (The Kingdom of the Krow #1)

~ YILAN ~

I shook like a leaf in the wind, unable to take my eyes off the vacant shirt and leathers crumpled in the dirt.

A Shade? They were real?

Shades were legendary, stories used by Fetch parents to scare their children. For a people who walked the shadows, we brought light. But none of my people denied the draw of darkness. We were all raised on the tales of the Shades, men who sold their souls to the Dragon. Their bodies were infused with shadow so they could hide easily, camouflage in even a sliver of shade, and so go unnoticed.

They rarely slept, barely needed to eat, and were the Devil’s assassins.

Or rather, the assassins used by the agents of the Devil.

I’d never been certain they were real. But I’d just seen proof.

Melek let go of the breath he’d been holding and took a step back, brushing his skin as if the rot from that thing might be contagious, then he looked at me and went still.

His eyes dropped to my empty lap, then cut up to my eyes.

“You gave me your weapon,” he said hoarsely.

I swallowed. “If I hadn’t, you’d be dead.”

He nodded slowly. “And that would seem to suit you.”

“Not if there’s a Shade loose in the tent,” I pointed out, trying to keep the tremor of fear from my voice.

He didn’t respond, just stared right into my eyes as if he measured me for truth. Then he blinked and looked over his shoulder sharply.

“What? Did you see someth—”

“Hush,” he hissed, hurrying to the trunk where his clothing was stacked and pulling on a pair of clean leathers and his boots. “Stay quiet. Only shout if you sense anything else,” he muttered as he picked up his second spear and darted out of the tent.

I nodded, but he was already gone.

Taking a deep breath I sank to the dirt, turning my attention inwards, analyzing that prickling instinct that had been screaming such alarm just minutes earlier, but now…

Now there was nothing.

And that would make sense. Shades were so rare, surely there wouldn’t be two?

But that turned my thoughts to who might be capable of bringing a Shade in the first place—and why they would target Melek. Who would have the power to find, or even make one? It would take a very powerful wizard. Someone with direct access to the power of the Dark.

Like a pureblooded Nephilim.

I remembered that moment when it had spoken, its voice a shivery crumble of rot and decay… and its words seemed familiar…

“The great General Melek…”

My mind was taken back to the King’s jibing remarks on the day I was taken.

“The great General Melek may be blind, but…”

And then my instincts prickled again, but this time not with the sense of impending danger, but with the satisfying click that only came with the clarity true insight brought.

The King was jealous of his General—as well he should be. I’d listened to murmured conversations among the ranks. I’d observed the willingness with which the others followed Melek… and their wariness of their King.

They feared Gault. But they admired Melek.

And then I remembered Melek’s own wariness—his concern about the King being unhappy with the mental state of his bastard son.

Apart from an enemy that wished to remove this weapon from the King’s grasp, there was no one else who had reason to want Melek dead. But that had been no normal assassination attempt. That had been an attempt to rob Melek of his soul… if he possessed one.

The Zaryndar had powerful magik, but they shied away from the Dark. And the Tuskarrians were giants, but they possessed no magik.

It was said that in order to bend a Shade to their will, a person had either to give their own soul as sacrifice, or that the orders must come from the highest of the Devil’s agents here in the land of flesh.

Would there be an agent closer to the fallen Lucifer than the King?

Certainly not in the flesh.

But did that brutish male have the strength of will and discipline to work the Dark?

There were too many questions and not enough answers, but after a few minutes of turning the questions over in my mind and turning circles, I realized there was still no sound near the tent—and no Melek.

Nerves fluttered in my belly, and I got to my feet.

“Melek?” I hissed quietly. If he was close to the tent he’d hear me. “Are you safe? Have you found anything?”

But there was no answer.

Shit.

My stomach growled and my hands were shaking. I realized I was utterly alone. If Melek didn’t return, my only recourse would be—

The tent flap snapped aside, and he strode in, bringing a cloud of delicious aromas with him—sausage, fried potatoes, honeycakes, sweet fruit, rich kafk…

My stomach clenched as he approached the door of the cage, his chin low and eyes on me.

I took a halting step towards him, hope screaming in my chest—but he growled a warning.

“Stay back. All the way to the back. And do not move.”

Mouth watering at those fragrances, I nodded, but even when my back was against the cage bars opposite the door, I found myself swaying closer.

“Please—”

“Stay back until it’s locked.”

He had to juggle, placing the goblet on the ground near where the cage would open. I almost wept when he unlocked the cage door and placed that platter on the ground inside , then reached back for the goblet and placed it next to the platter.

When he finally closed the cage door, I was quivering.

The moment that lock slid home, I leaped across the cage and onto the food, grasping sausage in one fist and a handful of the potatoes in the other—both foods steaming hot, because he’d picked them up from the early breakfast preparations.

They were burning my hands and my mouth, but I didn’t care. I chewed like a savage, stuffing myself.

Mouth full and belly clenching, I swallowed hard as I realized I was crouched on the ground and Melek still stood on the other side of the door, watching me.

While I chewed the next mouthful, I reluctantly dropped the food in my hands onto the platter and picked it up, needing an arm under it to keep it level. Then I grabbed the goblet in the other hand and hurried to the back of the cage, settling cross-legged, with the platter in my lap as I dug back in. I alternated bites of precious food with mouthfuls of the sharp kafk that desperately needed cream and sugar, but I didn’t care.

Melek watched me, his expression unreadable. “You need to slow down or it might come back up.”

“That would just let me eat more,” I said around a mouthful of sausage.

To my delight, Melek chuckled.

He didn’t say more as I ate like a fiend for minutes. But finally, stomach stretched tight and churning a little bit, rumbling so that I worried he might be right, I put the platter aside and reached for the kafk again. I held the warm goblet in both hands, letting the steam rise so I inhaled it and sighed, as happy as I’d felt since the day I was taken.

“Feel better?” Melek asked carefully.

“Yes, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

It was a strange, polite exchange. I took a sip of the kafk, eyes on him, waiting.

“I didn’t give you the spear so you’d feed me.”

“I know. That’s why I fed you.”

My eyes drifted to the platter at my side, cooling now but still half-full of sausage and potato, and I’d only eaten one of the honeycakes.

I picked one grape from the bunch, letting the sweet juice burst on my tongue and sighing happily, before I returned my attention to him.

He stood on the other side of the cage, an unreadable expression on his handsome face that mildly worried me.

“Who wants you dead?” I asked him carefully.

He snorted. “Who doesn’t?”

I tipped my head. “Your enemies are many… but sending a Shade? That is… intense.”

He shrugged, but he looked towards the tent flap uneasily. “Any number of Kingdoms have reason to want me dead—including yours,” he pointed out.

“But any of those—including mine—would want to claim your death. To make the other enemies tremble.”

“Perhaps,” he said without commitment.

“Melek… you have to consider who would go to such lengths—who has the capability to go to such lengths. Even the rulers of nations wouldn’t have easy access to the kind of power—”

“Why?” he asked sharply. “I beat the thing—with your help,” he admitted, shifting his weight. “It’s done.”

“Is it? The person with the kind of power to bring a Shade against you can bring many other things as well.”

“And I will meet them when they come,” he said abruptly, his jaw going tight.

“Melek, I’m not trying to scare you, I’m trying to help you—”

“You did help me. And I am truly grateful—and will remain so. However… it changes nothing.” He locked eyes with me.

I took a deep breath and picked up another grape. “I just think the risk of ignoring—”

“I ignore nothing,” he growled. “You’re asking me questions I cannot answer. I will not speculate. Nothing is gained.”

“Unless speculation leads you to the truth. Take your King for example—”

“Do not start pushing me to treason again,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I am grateful for your assistance, but that will not change my mind on this score.”

“I’m not pushing you to treason, you knucklehead! I’m telling you; I walked the shadows of this camp for days before you took me, and I saw it. I saw that—”

“You name yourself a shadow walker, speak treason, and want me to ignore the fact that you knew what the Shade was? Perhaps you are my assassin?”

I rolled my eyes. “That makes no sense—and I walk the shadows, I do not serve them. There is a huge difference. In any case, my point is true: The Nephilim follow you, not your King. If you deny it, you make yourself a liar.”

He grimaced. “Of course they follow me—we are at war. I am the leader that offers them confidence—”

“Bullshit! A true Ruler is both admired and followed willingly! Their people—including their military leaders—serve because they choose to. Your people are following you… and you serve the King, so they do as well. The moment you declared yourself they would abandon him—”

“Go back to your eating, Fetch.” His eyes blazed, but his tone was even, despite being gruff. “Do not make me gag you. Please. I want to recognize the good you’ve done tonight, but if you insist on this poison, I will have no choice. Just… please. Be silent on this point.”

I sighed and stared at him, but the pleading in his eyes was real.

Shrugging, I threw up my hands. “Fine.”

“Thank you. Now sleep while we can. The sun will be up soon, and my day will begin. I have set patrols nearby. We should not be interrupted again.”

I almost pushed then. But he caught the shift in me and his eyes flashed a warning.

When I didn’t speak, he nodded once, then moved around the tent to blow out the lanterns before walking over to the bed where he stripped down and slid between the sheets with a weary groan.

Still picking at my food and sipping at my kafk, I wrapped myself in my blanket and stared into the darkness to watch the sunlight slowly make the sides of the tent glow while I set my mind to consider the puzzle and solve it.

Because Melek might be unwilling to see his King as the villain in this story, but I was not. And I found I suddenly dreaded the consequences to all of us if that brute succeeded in removing Melek from this earth.