Page 17

Chapter seventeen

Bitterroot Caverns

I awoke to the sound of Jamison fluttering about a new set of clothes. Not a silken dress this time, but instead thick linen trousers, a long-sleeved tunic, and a heavy wool cape were draped at the end of my bed. Two black boots with large buckles sat beneath them on the slate floor.

“If Her Royal Slumbering Almighty Highness could dress quickly, the Master is anxious to move out,” the bat said with an annoyed tone.

Disrobing, I threw myself into the tunic before quickly shoving my bare legs into the pant legs.

“If His Royal Flappiness would deign to find me some breakfast, I would appreciate it.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!” I shoved my socked feet into the boots, realizing my grumpiness this morning bordered on petulant. “Why are you even helping me if you’re going to be so…so…”

“Is it too early for the lady to make real sentences?”

“So rude , Jamison. I don’t believe I’ve been rude to you.”

“Your existence offends me.”

“But why, Jamison? ”

His tiny body flapped loudly before me, buffets of wind tickling my face. “Because if it wasn’t for you, my master—”

“That’s enough, Jamison. You may go meet the others in the foyer.” The gentle growl did nothing to soften the words, as the Shade filled the threshold with his presence, surrounded by waves of shadow. With a final angry chirp, Jamison flew past the Shade’s head and down the hall.

I twisted my hands awkwardly before dipping into a quick curtsy. “Good morning.” I wrapped my arms around my middle. My legs felt very visible, despite the length of the tunic and the tall, thick boots.

“It is morning, but no morning is good.” His green gaze slid from my eyes down to my boots and back. None of his shadows touched me, but my body responded as if to physical pressure. His eyes flicked back up to my burning face with a solid nod. “I wish to add the caveat that some things are good.”

I swallowed past the dryness of my throat. “No sunrise hikes for the master of darkness?” He took four slow steps toward me—too close. I could smell his soap. His shadows, somewhat fewer today, coiled around us and tickled my knees. His fingers threaded down the tips of my white hair.

“Would you turn, Dayspring?”

I frowned and turned a bit to the left.

“All the way.”

Heart hammering, I turned my back on our land’s most dangerous predator. The man who murdered with darkness. The one who shadowed the very sun. My neck prickled into goosebumps as his fingers swept past.

And then the Shade…braided my hair. All words fled my mind .

“I’m a poor ladies’ maid, I’m afraid. But you’ll look put together enough for the cave creatures.” His breath puffed hot against my cheek.

I nodded, my stomach too tight to speak much less breathe. With a quick tie, the hair was done, and the man stepped back to observe his work. “I’m out of practice.” A seed of unease crept into me—a wave of uncertainty. He smelled like a forest on a snowy night.

I turned to find his face a mask. Quickly dragging my hair forward, I smiled. “You did well, sir.” His unease lightened to pleasure.

“Let’s see if the others are ready to depart, shall we?” He offered his elbow, and I took it with shaky hands. We swept from the room like a couple entering a ball.

When the silence grew heavy, I asked, “Who taught you?”

The Shade chuckled. “Well, it wasn’t Uncle Koll, though his beard is certainly long enough.” That pine scent wafted inside again but this time accompanied with deep pain. “It…” His forearm rippled under my hand as his hands fisted and released. His laugh sounded strained. “We all come from somewhere, Dayspring.”

I hadn’t really considered his origins. Monsters don’t just appear out of nowhere. “A sister?” He shook his head. “Your mother.” The Shade swallowed, and slowly nodded.

Tracing the braid with my fingertips, he watched as we paused in the hall. “Well, she’d be proud of you. The braid is very nice.” Raw agony passed across his face and through my chest for only a moment before the classic side-smile reemerged.

“I am an amazing specimen, Dayspring. A gift to all mankind.”

I smiled, and my heart lifted with a burgeoning happiness. I liked to see his smile too much.

Three wolves—including the gray one I’d met in the solarium—five bats, and a badger stood or hung at attention in the entryway .

The Shade paused and took in his unusual crew. “We get in, grab the moss, and get out. We do not go digging.” He glanced at the badger. “We do not go sniffing about or fluttering into mischief.” The irritated huffs and flaps of the animals displayed their displeasure. “Yet.” The animals settled. “There is time for all this but today, while it is day, we need to get in and out without detection from man or beasty.”

I gave him a hard side-eye and gestured to the crowd of animals. He cleared his throat. “The other wild, underground beasties.” Walking to the table, he took a coil of rope and set it across my shoulders, then placed a lantern in my hand. “Dayspring, I know you’re a wild hare, but no heroics today. Try to control your inner force of destruction, hmm?”

I’m certain my eyes glittered with the amusement I felt. His hand trailed down my arm and lingered on my fingertips. “Do stay close. I do not wish to see you harmed.”

“Your world would be lifeless without me.” I joked back, testing the waters.

His jovial expression darkened. “Truer words…Dayspring…”

He pulled the cloak around me, fastening it at my neck before he turned, donned his pack, and led the way outside toward the southern aspect of the manor. The manor was as black and tall and sharp-angled as I remembered from my flight here, but instead of menacing, the morning light made it look regal. The turrets gleamed as the sunlight struck them, and the black stone, likely laced with mica, glittered more than an enemy manor should. I smiled at the thought of the Shade wearing a sparkling outfit to match his obsidian home.

Across the expansive garden—before the canyon walls that angled back toward the valley—a cluster of arborvitae pines stood, their tops bent from the canyon winds. Behind them, built into the tall cliff walls, a small iron-bar doorway held back the menacing darkness. Unlocking the door with a large key from around his neck, the Shade yanked against the rusting hinges, revealing the gaping maw of a cave. It was pitch-black mere feet from the entrance, as though consuming the light of the sun itself. My courage withered.

The bats made gleeful circles overhead before entering, followed by the wolves and the badger who sniffed the dingy air before trundling forward.

I paused just before the entrance, my legs a bit stiff from…the stairs of the solarium, surely.

“Don’t tell me the heroine of the night—the one who defies princes and talks back to Death—is nervous about a bit of a walk in the dark.”

“I won’t tell you that then.” I was proud that my voice only wavered slightly.

He offered his arm again. “Perhaps you can see with me, Dayspring. Let me show you.”

My hand trembled traitorously as it reached for his arm. But I boldly stepped with him into the cave. And boldly stumbled over a stone. I reached for my lantern, but his warm palm halted mine.

“Not yet.” His chuckle echoed like thunder in the cavern. He led us into the pitch black. “Now, give me your hand.” My breath caught; my sight was now gone, and every touch felt like fire as I left the relative safety of his cloth-covered forearm for the heat of his palm. His fingers grasped mine. “With my magic, you’ll be able to see with the shadows.”

“That makes no sense,” I muttered.

“Master, are you sure?” Jamison asked, his wings fluttering off to my left.

“Close your eyes, Dayspring, it’ll be easier.” I obeyed, but it was just as dark. “Feel the magic of the shadows, cool and thick, reaching with their fingertips and telling you of the world around us. ”

Nothing happened. A beat of disappointment. Suddenly, magic swirled through our linked hands, like frost on pine, scented and sacred. And then the world exploded into view around me. The colors were blue and red, the edges of everything lined by this contrasted light. The shadows moved constantly. It was like viewing a reflection on a slow-moving creek, but I could see the details of the floor, the path through the spikes of stones. I turned. I could see the details of the Shade’s face and the haunted look in his eyes as he watched me in return.

It was wholly unfair that he could look more attractive in the contrasting art of the shadow images. A wayward thought wondered what the Shade’s bonding mark would look like. I backpedaled quickly, back to mere admiration of statuesque features.

“The shadows become you as well, Dayspring. You look lovely.”

The first step felt like walking on water, but the second was surer. The image in my mind functioned almost as if I had a lantern, the light from it circular and constantly moving with us in gentle waves. Soon, it was as if I was seeing with true light.

That foresty, magical sense of happiness fluttered within me again. I glanced over, suspicious of this new sensation, and confirmed—the Shade was smiling. It couldn’t be that I could sense him, could it?

Quiet drips echoed against the stone, interrupted only by the tiny screeches of the bats or the wolves’ claws clacking along the way. I found I could hold the image of the shadow as I opened my eyes, but it was disconcerting to see nothing when my mind was full of so much imagery.

The shadows highlighted little tubes on the cavern wall. The Shade squeezed my hand, and I opened my eyes. I focused and the tubes became wriggling lights that glowed in green and yellow, coating the wall like odd stars reflecting off a waterfall. I stopped and leaned forward .

“Cave caterpillars,” the Shade supplied. Small one-inch caterpillars milled around the cracks and crevices of the cavern. Their many legs stuck out of pudgy thighs, much like their forest counterparts.

“They are adorable.”

His eyebrow perked. “Most gardeners don’t like caterpillars.”

“I find them charming. Especially these, since they glow.”

Tilting my chin up with his fingertips, the Shade added, “They also make a glowing silk.” I looked at the ceiling and gasped. Strings of light and balls of nests latticed the stone, like constellations linked in a woven pattern across the top of the cave. Wriggly purple babies glowed within pink eggs.

The badger tugged on the Shade’s pantleg, but he only spoke his mind to him. I saw warmth seep from the Shade’s features as they hardened back to the lethal tension.

“Let’s move on, Dayspring. We can sightsee next time.”

The atmosphere around us thickened as well. The wolves stalked instead of leaping, the bats flew more quietly and perched between flights. The badger slipped behind us. At times, we had to squeeze through narrow walls and duck under low ceilings. The walk, aided by the endless dark, felt interminable, worsened by the twisting, pine-scented anxiety that I suspected was the Shade’s.

The Shade cast a single shadow behind us, but the image was swept away by a rapid moving…something. Fear poured down my spine.

“Steady on, Dayspring.”

“What was that?” I responded with a thought, hoping it would go through to him.

“It might have been nothing.”

“It might also have been—”

“ Cat !” A foreign voice interrupted. The badger stumbled backward, ducking his tail into a burrow and whipping out fierce claws. The shadows whipped around us as the Shade tucked me behind him. Slowly, from the edge of the shadow’s image, an emaciated, long-legged creature stalked toward us. Its head was the size of a wolf’s, and its enormous eyes were slitted, rising above crooked whiskers and too-long teeth. The cave now smelled like a green and forgotten pond, ripe with upended fish.

The bats began dive-bombing the creature’s head as the wolves took up posts beside us. One lingered to cover our backs. The creature raised its maw and yowled as it struck out, swatting the bats away from its face. I shivered and felt a warm fondness growing inside me. But I didn’t feel any fondness toward the monstrosity. I glanced at the Shade, whose head was tilted to the side, curious.

“Really?” I asked aloud. “That? You like that?”

“I mean, she’s kind of cute.”

“I’ve seen dead things cuter than she is.” He glanced at me quickly, and I stumbled over my words. “I mean, I can’t think of any right now.”

“I’m going to touch her and see if we can link.”

“What? You’ll get sick by touching her.”

“She won’t hurt me,” he said, but I didn’t believe him. “Just stay here and keep hold of August.”

“August?”

He grasped my other hand and set it on the back of the large gray wolf’s neck. “If anything goes wrong, August will protect you. I’m sorry about this.”

“Sorry about what?” I squeaked, and then the Shade let go of my other hand. I was plunged into darkness. “Shade!” I whisper-shouted, ashamed of the panic laced within. The darkness was a being, pressing in from all sides, stealing the warmth from my body, and ripping away any sense of safety. Immediately, I was plunged back into the well I had fallen into when I was three. I shuddered and grasped August’s fur tighter. I slid down the rock wall, a useless action as I couldn’t run while sitting, but without sight, how could I run anyhow?

“ Steady, human. Your fear stinks.” The low voice accompanied the wolf moving closer to me. August continued, “ The master has it in hand.”

I nodded foolishly. A shadow slipped into my palm, and I grasped it tightly with one hand while the other petted the large wolf. My mind and body moved glacially. I realized I could see my hands as the paltry light from my necklace sent a glow onto the form in front of me. If only I had any magic whatsoever to help the Shade. If only the light from the necklace was mine to manipulate and to cast as I willed. The fear tightened, and the necklace stuttered. My fingers thread through the fur, and tugged on the shadow, desperate to settle my rising panic.

I tried to lower my inner walls to hear what was happening. The Shade’s thoughts began murmuring as the catlike creature made a continual moaning cry. “Hello, my sweet, is it just you? You have lovely eyes. So bright. Won’t you come a little closer? Those bats can go away if you’d like them to.” He was crooning, and I had the strange wish to be the mangy cat. “I have a little water, would you like some?” Through his emotion, I knew he felt no fear. Perhaps a little caution. But it was hard to filter out the subtleties when I was panicking.

I heard water hit the rocks below. The yowling stopped, followed by a lapping sound.

The Shade was insane. No wonder he was surrounded by animals. He adopted every rabid and feral thing. Except spyrings, apparently, who did not want his love. My legs quaked in my crouch, and I regretted thinking about the spider-like monsters. Would we find those here too ?

Suddenly, the fur was pulled from my grasp. I clutched the shadow to my chest. “Sh-Shade?” I yelped. I knew I was pathetic, but the emptiness was pressing in.

Only moments later, I jolted as warm hands found mine. The world exploded back into shadow view. The Shade leaned down, his brow furrowed in genuine concern, and beside him sat the ugliest monster I’d ever beheld, batting at the swinging hem of Death’s coat.

“Aelia, can you stand?” I nodded and rose uneasily, but his firm grasp held me steady. “What should we call her?”

“The cat?”

His mischievous grin should be banned. A thousand unkind names filtered through my mind before I could hold them back. She needed a benign and simple name, one to undo the menacing gleam of her claws and the vacant hunger in her eyes.

“Bertha?”

The Shade chuckled. “Very well. Bertha will be part of our group now.”

“Oh, so nice.” I replied, barely holding back my sarcasm. Bertha took a tenuous step toward me and sniffed my fingers with cactus-sharp whiskers. “Hello…Bertha.”

A juttering purr erupted from her, cacophonous in the small area, and she butted her whole head into my palm. The greasy sensation on my fingertips made me queasy. But she was indeed kind of…

The Shade finished my thought with a smug sense of satisfaction. “Cute.”