Page 18

Chapter eighteen

The Way Home

W e finished the journey up a steep incline. The light of the tunnel increased as did my pace. I rushed faster and faster, desperate to get back out to the sunlight. I felt a thread of sadness and a tingle by my neck, but I was too anxious to pay it much mind. Bertha paced beside the Shade, pleased by his pats on her head. I was as pleased to ignore her presence as she seemed pleased to ignore mine.

At the cave opening, I rushed out and dove into the warm, tall grasses. Panting in ecstasy and willing the sun to bake itself into my face, I lay, soaking in the rays of the sun.

“That bad, Dayspring?” The Shade leaned against the wall of the cavern, looking too casual.

I wondered for a moment if I should rise and brush myself off, returning to demure decorum, but the heat of the earth was too delicious, so I nestled deeper. “I’ve had worse days.” I smiled back, the sting from that day not quite as sharp.

Bertha stayed in the shadows of the cave, and from here, her skin appeared nearly translucent against her glowing blue eyes. She gazed about with a wince and backed deeper into the darkness.

The Shade pulled out a satchel and a metal scraper. “Shall we?”

Lugging myself upward, I took his offered tool. “Let’s do it. ”

Cloudy mossweed covered every inch of the cave’s entrance. Part mossy netting, part long and tangled leaves, several stamens pierced through the mat and bloomed. The billowy, whisper-thin white flower quite resembled its namesake. The wolves took turns resting and standing guard, while Bertha seemed content to stay within the cavern. The Shade and I worked silently for a while, taking patches in squares so the neighboring plants could easily recover the losses we took with us. Whatever we dropped, the racoons were quick to pick up and drop in our bags.

While we worked, I felt a prickle of the Shade’s curiosity. “Dayspring, tell me of your childhood.”

I huffed a laugh. “You haven’t heard enough?”

Too serious eyes found mine. “Never.”

Clearing my throat, I picked a story at random. “When I first came to the castle, I was very nervous. We had been to various events at home—dinners and things—but being so young, I would be dressed up, showed off, and then excused while the adults talked. I remember being so tired, and my shoes were dirty from the dust of the road, but when I got out of the carriage, there was a boy just my age to play with. I hopped out. He sneered.” I laughed. “Leon looked at the king with such annoyance. ‘It’s a girl?’ he said. Well, obviously, I was. I curtsied. He gave the most awkward bow, and then we ran off to the back courtyard to play.

“This lanky, black-haired boy popped out from one of the sheds and scared us both. He laughed and laughed. From then on, during our breaks, Leon and I would always go and find this boy and play. I got in so much trouble with ruined tights, and scuffed palms, and bleeding knees. We climbed trees and fished in the castle ponds.” I tucked in a whole bushel of mossweed, remembering .

“When Leon’s magic first showed up, he sneezed and accidentally caught my skirt on fire! Thankfully, the other boy scooped me up and plopped me down right in the fountain.” I giggled. “I got in trouble, of course, as if it was my fault I was wet, but the whole castle started a three-day celebration. Leon and I ate more sweets than we should and got so sick.” While I talked, the Shade moved slower, and his brows appeared pensive. “After that, I never saw that other boy again.”

I paused, discomfort whirling within me at his silence and stillness. “Well, I’ve told you enough about me. I think it’s your turn.”

“My turn.” His tool halted mid strike.

“It’s only fair.”

“Since when is Death fair and the trapped maiden allowed to make such demands?” he grumbled. I snorted. The sentiment should have rankled under my skin, but I didn’t feel trapped at all. He began hacking at the plant before him. “My childhood isn’t a good one, Dayspring.”

I set my hand on his tightly wound fist. “Please?”

He nodded once, and I released him. He renewed his attack on the mossweed. “My life is marked by lies and fear. My father didn’t want me, and didn’t want my magic to taint his perfect life.”

“How could a father not be proud of his son?”

“He would have been proud of me if I’d had a normal magic or even an especially rare magic like light—anything but what I have. I have good memories of him until I was four. I remember that I once wanted to help stir the soup, but then I dropped the spoon, and Mother wouldn’t let me help anymore—I’m sure it was because she didn’t want me to burn myself, but what was a four-year-old to do? I was so furious, I plunged the whole kitchen into darkness. It was so brief that, at first, everyone thought it was a dark cloud or some weird solar eclipse. But as that prophecy you are so familiar with had just been released, any mention of darkness was the mark of doomsday for the kingdom. My tantrum sent him over the edge of reason. I was a black mark on his perfect life.”

The steady hack, hack, hack, of his tool rattled the forest.

“And then…” I prompted gently.

“After that, he never touched me. Never looked at me except to correct me for oozing my black magic, as he put it. He hid me away, filling the house with luz and a thousand light fixtures to fight against my evil.”

My heart ached for him. “But what about your mother? Surely, she—”

“She loved me as faithfully as ever. But when her second child showed signs of a different magic, Father sent me away.” His eyes didn’t meet mine.

I stilled. “What?”

“He put me on a wagon with Uncle Koll and forbade me to ever return.”

“How old were you?”

“Nine.”

How monstrous. He was just a boy.

“I was a scapegoat. Mother was getting sicker, and Father blamed me. He was also struggling to keep me hidden. So, I was forced to flee.”

Waves of despair and rage prickled through my chest, both emotions enhanced when my fingers touched his arm. “It’s not your fault.”

His jaw clenched. “It may not be, but I paid for it dearly.”

“Couldn’t Uncle Koll seek help from the guards? Or seek peace and safety from the king?” I asked. Green eyes cut me to the quick, and I stepped back at the hostility I saw there.

“There was nowhere to turn, Dayspring. ”

Imagining a small and childlike Shade was too much. Water filled the base of my eyelids. As awful as he was supposed to be, it was becoming clearer and clearer to me how completely unfair the Shade’s life and reputation had always been. I shook my head. “I’m so sorry.”

His whole body turned, and the weight of his presence pressed heavily on my skin. “I’m not. I am who I am today because of those decisions. I’m stronger than I would have been under his thumb. My manor is full of life, and Uncle Koll thrives while my mother did not.” His knuckle slid along my bottom lip, and his hand clenched before he tucked his palm against my neck. His thumb caressed my cheek slowly. “Without those actions, I doubt we would be together now.”

Electrical tingles danced across my skin and shivered down my body. I swallowed hard. “My stay here hasn’t been so awful.”

The hard ice of his eyes softened, and I found myself melting as well.

I coughed once, feeling the weight of many mammal eyes upon us. “Well, shall we finish up and go home?”

A frisson of pleasure vibrated through my chest as he exhaled a low growl. His eyes flushed with shadows, almost a dark emerald, before lightening. He whispered, “Home.”

I had nearly forgotten the rotten cave cat but when we reentered the dark, the beast pressed its oily skin against the Shade’s legs, its purr more like rocks tumbling down a mountain than a gentle hum. Bertha was wholly attached to my…to the Shade. As my hand was laced in his hand on the other side, I started to think I might be attached too.

The way back seemed to pass much faster as I grew accustomed to my borrowed shadow vision, the steady arm to support me, and the fear of the slimy cat that propelled me to escape this cave. My fervor must have been obvious .

“Are we racing, Dayspring?”

“Obviously, I’m winning.” I said, feeling a bit bold in the darkness.

“Obviously, I’m letting you win, as any gentleman would.”

I tripped on a small stone. “A gentleman? You are Death, sir.”

“A very polite Death, perhaps.”

We turned another corner, and I stumbled again, the shadow vision shrinking around us. I glanced up to the Shade; his perfect lips were pinched too tightly. He caught me looking and softened them into his perfect smirk.

“Staring at me once again, I see. Well, look all you like. I’m here for your taking.”

Behind me, Jamison let out a bitter-sounding chirp, and Bertha began a low, rumbling growl.

“Okay, okay, I won’t look anymore.” I said lightly, but the Shade’s forearm tightened beneath my fingertips. The animals had all stopped. They stood as still as the stones around us. And they weren’t looking at us.

At once, a dozen voices ricocheted in my mind. “Ahead, Master.” “They come.” “So many.” “Bigger than us!” “They smell of carrion.” “Run, Master.”

“I believe it is time to race, Dayspring. An excellent call. Last one to the kitchen has to steal Uncle Koll’s favorite ladle.” The Shade gripped my hand and pulled me behind him. But the shadow vision was wavering, and my legs were tired under our packs. Even the Shade seemed unsteady and was limping more than usual.

A single screech echoed down the cavern behind us. My nerves zipped up my spine at the sound. A dozen screeches. Then more. I turned to look, but the way was still dark except for the hundreds of blinking red lights that glowed in the darkness. Blinking pairs of lights.

My voice wavered. “Shade? ”

“I know.” His voice was too tight.

“What are they?”

Jamison fluttered before us. “ Ground rats .”

“Rats?” I imagined the mice I’d shooed out of the kitchen a time or two. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

The Shade’s hand spasmed in mine. “It is much worse than you could imagine.”

My legs slipped out as we climbed a boulder, and I slid backward, slipping out of his grasp for a blinding moment. By the time he took my hand again, wrinkled dog-sized rats filled the cavern around me. Their red eyes squinted behind enormous noses and broken whiskers. Their bodies were covered in lichen, hairs protruding randomly through thick, scaly armor, dusted with pebbles and mold on top.

Bertha prowled forward, her maw dripping saliva, clearly enticed by the horrible beasties.

“I should have grabbed the attack potions,” I whispered.

“Caves are no place for toxic fumes. We’ll handle this.” He grabbed my hand and placed it on his back, under the shirt. I squeaked and was about to pull away, but he held my wrist firm. “I don’t want you to be blind, Dayspring. But I need my hands, and you need to see.”

Hesitantly, I set my hand on his hot skin. A flutter of his thought— bad idea —fizzled quickly away as the muscles of his back rippled while he shifted into a fighting stance. Beside Bertha, the wolves stood ready, the badger and raccoons behind them.

With one movement, as if they had the same mind, the rats dashed forward. Several swept past the larger predators and came careening toward us. The shadows glowed like hot metal in my mind as the Shade whipped them around lifting, throwing, and ripping at the onslaught. Slowly he backed me down the path of the cavern toward home. Sweat beaded under my palm as the shadows wavered again.

Jamison landed on my collar, hanging onto my chest like a living necklace. “Fellows. Give them insight!” Half the bats dodged and ducked, pulling on ears or tails or whiskers. Their chirps competed with the screeching, and blips of information passed through my mind. They were reporting the rats’ positions and movements, suggesting the next targets to the Shade, and their constant communication provided another type of sight. He worked in coordination with their instructions while moving me farther away. They must be talking to the wolves too as their movements became precise and well-tuned, smoothly integrated with the Shade’s action.

After a final turn, the cave lightened. I spun and sprinted to the gate, pushing it open as I yelled, “Come on. It’s open!”

The mammals poured out with the Shade who—after Bertha had cleared the door and hid in the shadow of a tree—slammed the metal gate. A shadow locked it behind us. The huge rats rammed against the bars again and again. I shuddered at the sight, which was even more horrific with my normal vision than with the shadow vision.

The ground rat bodies were pale and translucent, blood vessels pulsed rapidly beneath their skin. Glowing eyes gleamed through their pale irises, scabbed over and thickly lined with bristle-like eyelashes. Paws the size of my hands had claws nearly as long. Their bodies were emaciated, and their tails jutted out like skeletal lightning bolts.

My breaths came quickly as I backed away, not fully trusting the bars of the gate to hold. I ducked under the branch of a tree, only to have my hand pressed upward by a cold, wet nose. Bertha began to purr again, clunkily. One of the bats returned from the manor carrying a potion that the Shade poured over the lock. Bertha winced at the scent. Despite her repulsive appearance, I began to pet her back. She was a slice of comfort compared to the rats within the cavern.

The Shade slowly turned, his pointed finger tapping the air as he counted his creatures. Once completed, he walked past me and Bertha with a wink, tucking his satchel close to his side as he strode toward the manor.

I wasn’t sure what I expected. For him to hold my hand, and ask me tenderly if I needed care? A rushed embrace and a blinding hot kiss? But none of those things happened. He just passed by, with a mere wink and it bothered me.

I stomped toward the manor in his wake, feeling petulant. Why was I following him like I cared about him? Why did I even stay here? I could be halfway to the ocean now that I was recovered. A gray wolf beside me gave me a hard look and a rumbling growl.

“Sorry,” I muttered. Double-checking the barriers in my mind to prevent any additional leaking thoughts, I gave myself a good scolding. I needed to get my head on straight. He was just a man. One with shadows, a menagerie, a solarium, and a nice uncle, but still just a man. Someone I had used to escape, and who had saved my life, but did I really know him? Could I really trust him? He sounded so sincere as we cut the mossweed, but I knew he was keeping things from me. Furthermore, if I wasn’t planning on staying, why would I even want to know his secrets? Why was I suddenly thinking that bonding wouldn’t be as terrible as I’d once thought?

My mission was to help the queen, then get out of the mountains. I couldn’t imagine a life within a stone’s throw of my father and Leon. Not that life here was such a bad life. It just…it… Well, wasn’t it settling to nestle into the first safe place I found? Wasn’t it possible that the comfort I found here was just a trick of my mind, and one day I would look back and realize I’d gone from the frying pan into the smoky fire ?

But the skin where his hand had held mine still tingled from the pressure of his touch. My fingers burned where they had spread across the fine planes of his back. He was as lithe as a mountain lion. I shook my head as I desperately tried to keep him in the frame he belonged: he was grumpy, as mercurial as a flashflood in spring. He was isolated and angry. My heartstrings argued back that he was just a wounded soul. But his wounds were not my responsibility. I didn’t want to be burdened by another broken man’s broken attention.

The Shade paused and turned around with a frown, but as I neared, the wolves who had been playing and tumbling threw up their hackles and spun toward the gate. “ Intruder,” their minds said as one. Shadows burst from the Shade in waves as he moved supernaturally fast around the corner of the manor.

“He’s here,” Jamison spat out. “I told you he’d be back for her.”