To kill a shadow, p.33
To Kill a Shadow, page 33
“You know I’m gonna ask later, Ki, but for now, I sure as shit am not letting go.” Jake nudged into my side, his signature teasing acting as a balm.
“I—” Patrick paused, and I dared a peek at him. He tried to mask his fear, but I saw it all the same. My first friend. Afraid of me.
“It’s all right,” I said to him, faking a smile. “They’re atrocious.”
The winds shifted east, and the metallic taste lessened a fraction.
Patrick shook his head. “It’s not that, it’s just a shock, that’s all. I’ve heard rumors and read accounts, but those touched by the shadow beasts never lived long enough to tell the tale. I thought it was some quirk, the gloves. We all have our armor.” Patrick shrugged his shoulders. “I just thought the gloves were yours.”
They were my armor. Just not in the way he’d imagined them to be.
“Again, I’m just…confused.” He lingered on my hands once more, swallowing thickly. “Though please know that this changes nothing. I know what lies within your heart is pure and golden, and a few scars can’t change that.”
Thankfully Jake switched topics. “Anyone seen our brooding commander?”
“We all saw him leave,” Patrick said. “But even as pissed as he was, he should’ve stayed. We need him.” I’d never heard Patrick speak so sternly. I swore the temperature dropped ten degrees.
“What exactly did you tell him?” I asked, still clutching both their hands. The danger hadn’t left us yet.
He sighed. “You and him are close. One day, and maybe one day soon, he’s going to hurt you, and I can’t stand to watch that happen. We all know who he belongs to.”
I didn’t like that one bit, that word “belong.” Jude shouldn’t belong to anyone but himself.
Or me, I thought selfishly.
Still, his absence worried me. If he were out there alone, gods knew what he faced, especially if the hallucinations began. Maybe we’d have a miraculous stroke of luck and Jude would be spared.
I prepared to open my mouth and scream his name, hoping it would reach him beyond the trees, when a flare ignited the night.
And it wasn’t fire.
Chapter Forty-Five
Jude
There is a boy I wish to acquire. They say he has mismatched eyes and scars slanting across one cheek. Find out where he will be a week from today. My spies have told me he holds immense value. I plan on seeing what he is capable of.
Letter from King Cirian to Lieutenant Harlow,
year 36 of the curse
I’d walked farther out than I should have.
The camp was at least half a mile away, and Kiara and my recruits were alone, sitting ducks waiting for an attack. I forced myself to stop and turn, aiming back the way I’d come.
Always protect your brothers.
It was the first rule in our code. I’d already done a good job at screwing up every other decree in our sacred book, which was why I started to pick up my pace and enter into a sprint.
Somewhere in the distance, I made out the telltale sound of hoofbeats pounding the earth.
Slowing to a halt, I eased into a crouch behind a dense patch of reeds. Lifting my dagger, I waited, the horse’s steady gallop growing louder.
Leaves rustled at my back, and I spun—
Coming face-to-face with Kiara’s mare. Starlight.
I dropped my arm and sheathed my blade, letting loose a relieved breath, although her presence should have been impossible, considering the last time I’d seen her.
Starlight nickered as she trotted over, her belly free of the arrow’s puncture wound, her coat silken and smooth as if she’d never been injured at all. Disbelieving, I froze, my pulse racing as I looked at her, truly looked, for the first time.
Something tugged at my thoughts, like a long-lost memory shoved into a dark, locked box. The mare stood before me, as still as a statue…suddenly reminding me of the marble fountain back at the palace. The one depicting Thea, Raina’s legendary mare.
Neither of us moved; neither breathed. It was like the creature waited for me to make the first move. So I did, approaching her slowly, fearful of her racing away should I make a sudden movement.
The horse just narrowed her eyes, the recognition in them appearing far too human. My fingers trembled slightly as I ran them through her thick black mane, which looked much healthier than before. Gods, everything about her seemed healthier and more youthful.
Starlight lowered her head and nuzzled my cheek without hesitation, her hot breath coming out in impatient puffs.
“Where did you come from, girl? And how the hells are you still alive?” I asked, drawing away to inspect her. In place of an answer, she merely tossed her head to her still saddled back. The invitation was clear enough.
“I won’t say no to a ride.”
I grabbed the pommel and slipped my foot through the stirrup before hoisting myself into the saddle. I’d find the others quicker this way, and—
Light flared behind my eyes. It was so crushingly bright that I fell across the mare’s back, gripping her mane tightly. A shout rent the night. Probably mine.
For seconds, or maybe even minutes, I drowned in that light, barely holding onto the horse as I struggled for air. It was everywhere all at once, and I wasn’t afforded a single coherent thought.
Rather, I was gifted images.
They raced across my mind, most too quick to grasp, but a few I snatched, tucking them away.
The sun, bright in the sky, the world cast in a golden glow.
Two lovers on a mountainside, professing their love.
Them meeting at midnight. A blade glinting beneath the moon.
Orbs of light dancing into the heavens, followed by a scream of heartbreak.
The otherworldly light rippled around me as I clutched Starlight, its radiance dissipating and allowing me to suck in a shaking inhale. Soon, the shadows of the world crept up and engulfed the remaining rays, and the now-familiar fog rose.
I sat up in the saddle, my pulse racing.
I didn’t know how to describe what had just occurred, but I knew it wasn’t some hallucination. Whatever I’d seen had been a gift given to me by the gods themselves; a warning.
And if what those images had shown me was real—as I knew it was—then I had to warn Kiara. Now.
Chapter Forty-Six
Kiara
I do not fear death. I fear what I leave behind. There is so much Kiara doesn’t yet know. I should tell her, explain what she is, but I want her to live just a little while longer in ignorant bliss. The moment she uncovers the truth, her life will end…and I fear it is all my doing.
Letter from Aurora Adair to unknown recipient,
year 48 of the curse
Another curse fell from my lips. Jude needed to be here, with me, where I could protect him from himself.
“Don’t even think about breaking contact, Ki. Jude will find us soon,” Jake asserted, tugging on my hand. His voice was firm and resolute, his vibrant blue eyes swimming with determination. Nic’s death had been a warning—one he would heed.
The metal in the air clogged my nostrils, the scent sweeping across the campsite. If the boys noticed, they didn’t point it out. It appeared my tainted touch worked.
I steadied my body and shut down my mind, relying on Uncle Micah’s training.
Uncle Micah.
I swayed on my feet, the missing piece of my memory rushing to the surface. The man who’d rescued me. Those safe, familiar arms. Micah’s weathered face hovering above my own like a dream. When the scent of copper had woken me, his face had been a blur, a hallucination I refused to accept was real. But now there was no denying the clarity of his features as they played out across my mind.
Maybe the wind affected me after all. It was impossible that Micah was here, in the Mist.
A snarl ripped the air, and thoughts of Micah vanished like dust.
I slowly turned my head. “Shit,” I hissed, following up that swear word with a few more colorful ones. My knees, which were already trembling, almost gave out entirely.
Nic.
Or at least a version of him, hovered before us in the clearing.
His skin, which had been pale before, was now the same color as the masked creatures’. The gaping wound on his neck—where he’d brought his own blade across his throat—had turned black and rotten, and as he stepped closer, I noted that his movements were rigid and ungainly. Nothing like those of the nimble warrior I’d gotten to know.
“N-Nic?” Jake sobbed. His friend’s name was all he could manage. I tightened my grip on his hand in warning. No one knew quite how to react.
The creature wearing Nic’s face snarled again, low and deep in his throat. It was inhuman, wrong. By this time, I was sure my fingers were bruising Jake’s hand as I kept him in place.
“Look at his clothing,” Patrick said sadly. Indeed, pieces of shredded linen clung to his tall frame; the remnants of the cloths Jude and Isiah had buried him in. Further proof that the boy we all knew was gone.
“It’s not him, Jake,” I whispered, even though I suspected he wasn’t listening. He was too focused on Nic, on his oldest and most loyal friend. His brother.
Tears fell from Jake’s eyes, who was no longer able to contain his grief. He started to pull on my hand, desperately trying to break free and run across the small clearing.
“Jake, no!” I snapped, forcing bite into my tone. The copper in the air was almost gone, but I worried about the lingering effects. Then again, the creature might attack, and holding hands wouldn’t save us from his teeth.
“Let go of me!” Jake thundered, and Patrick tightened his own grip as our friend thrashed. Jake’s golden cheeks were slicked with wetness, his eyes full of hope. “It’s you. It’s really you.” He kicked out at me, lost to his delirium. “I knew you’d find me again. You always did.”
My heart broke, shattered, and fell into the white clouds at our feet like broken glass.
“That isn’t him,” I repeated, but it didn’t matter. Jake managed to break free from me and Patrick, and he was bolting across the ground toward the undead Nic before I could reach out.
The creature smiled, his teeth yellowed, the gaps crusted with what looked like blood. Nic turned his glassy eyes to me.
Before Jake could throw his arms around him, Nic thrust his hand out, sending him flying through the air and onto his back. Only the top of Jake’s head remained visible. He didn’t move from where he lay, likely stunned beyond all belief.
Nic ambled my way, much like a predator. The sides of his mouth curled up further, revealing sharp, pointed canines. Red coated them.
“Ki,” Patrick warned, still grasping me.
“Pat, I see it.” It, not him. I had to keep reminding myself of that fact. His body wasn’t old enough to have decayed to the same extent as those of the other masked men, but there wasn’t a question that he wasn’t alive.
My blade was in my hand and flying through the air in the span of a blink.
Nic shifted at the last second, the tip of my dagger missing him by less than an inch.
“Shit.” Patrick finally released me, stepping back. “We need to get out of here.”
Jake hadn’t moved from where he’d been tossed, but I felt his hurt from across the distance. I’d become so attuned to my friends that his heartache felt like my own. And in a way, it was. When Nic had died, I’d finally permitted myself to love Patrick and Jake. I’d realized how quickly life could be stolen.
I reached for Patrick and yanked him to me, snatching his blade from his sheath before he could protest. I knew he had an extra blade at his ankle should he need to protect himself, and I’d not lose one more second. Neither would Jake. Patrick. Jude.
We’d live to see another day.
I’d raised the weapon high into the air, preparing to lunge at Nic, to kill him for the second time, when a flicker of recognition sharpened his eyes.
Against my will, I paused…
And that pause was my damnation. As quickly as it had appeared, that spark in his eyes vanished, and Nic dove, his teeth elongating into fine points aimed directly at me. At my throat.
There wasn’t time to shift out of the way.
We toppled to the ground, Nic’s body like a brick wall as he landed on top of me. He snapped his teeth, his jaw unhinging, and his jagged fingernails dug painfully into my skin.
“Nic!” Jake screamed from somewhere in the distance. “Fight this!”
He still held out hope that his friend was trapped somewhere in that shell of a body.
I couldn’t blame him; I’d probably feel the same way. Sometimes in order not to break, we saw only what we wanted. What we needed.
Patrick yelled and cursed, trying his best to pull Nic off me, but it was no use. Pat’s dagger was pinned at my side, along with my arms. Still I bucked and kicked, but Nic lowered his head, undeterred, as he aimed for my throat.
Jake continued to call out to the monster atop me, though I barely registered much of anything, and my shadows were too stunned to make an appearance.
One moment of hesitation will get you killed. Micah’s old warning repeated in my head. Of course his voice would be the last one I ever heard.
Nic reared back and brought his teeth to my neck, the pointed canines poised above my artery—
He jerked, just as black blood oozed from his right eye. It dripped onto my face as he slumped forward, a choked noise bubbling from his throat.
I blinked, stunned to see the pointed end of a blade peeking through an eye that was once a warm shade of honey. Patrick appeared and shoved Nic to the side, off me, just as a final rush of air left his undead body.
Jake stood above me, his hands bloodied and dripping wet with that rotten black. He lifted his gaze from his unmoving friend and met my eyes. The light blue in them darkened, and his shoulders drooped before his knees gave out beneath him.
“Jake,” I whispered, unable to feel anything at all. He’d…killed for me. Chosen me.
I managed to crawl to him, to wrap my arms around his neck. He didn’t embrace me as I clutched him, my gloveless fingers digging into his back. My chest shook as I let loose sobs of my own, tears streaming down my face, overwhelmed by both grief and love.
Jake’s tears melded with my own, pattering to the ground like rain. He didn’t hold me back, but he leaned into my chest and rested his head atop my hair.
I felt Patrick’s presence looming above, but he didn’t touch us or provide comfort of his own. Maybe he stayed back, allowing us time for ourselves. When Jake pulled away first, his gaze was just as clouded as before, but he took my face between his hands.
“Family,” he said. One word. But a word that spoke thousands more.
Hesitantly, I lifted my scarred hands to his face. This time, he didn’t flinch at the sight of them. He leaned into my touch.
“Family,” I echoed, wishing I could swallow his heartache for my own, that I could take away the torment that would surely follow him for the rest of his days.
Until then, I’d fight for him, just as he had for me.
When I looked around us, searching for Patrick, wanting to tell him how much he’d come to mean to me as well, I saw nothing but shadows and white trees.
Jake cursed, swiping at his eyes. He, too, scanned the woods.
Patrick was gone.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Jude
The mortal who deceived Raina disappeared the night he betrayed her. There are no records of him, his name wiped entirely from record. Some say he was handsome, others say he was grotesque and fearsome. The only commonality the rumors share is the color of his eyes.
Camille Ashton, Asidian historian,
year 40 of the curse
They weren’t at the camp, not where I’d left them when I’d stormed off into the woods. I dropped from Starlight’s back to inspect the chaos of footprints. There had been a scuffle of some sort. A fight.
I was too late.
Someone could’ve hurt her, and at the thought, heat swept through my blood, and my skin burned with fury.
Starlight grew agitated behind me, her hooves pounding the dirt, her head swaying back and forth as if to tell me to hurry. As if I already didn’t suspect that the worst was yet to come.
Mounting the anxious mare, I eyed the faint tracks, all leading north. The footprints were spaced far apart, which meant they’d been in a rush, possibly running from an enemy. It also meant I had no time to waste.
I nudged Starlight forward with the heels of my boots, taking off into the night. I could have sworn the trees shone as I passed, the blue and silver leaves shifting colors, turning into a muted green. Even the fog seemed to part for me. I was burning from the inside out and too lost in my own head to care.
I had to get to her. I had to get to Kiara before the man who’d fooled us all finished the job he’d started decades ago.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Kiara
Our old friend died today, and my heart is broken. Perhaps Juniper’s death has weakened my resolve for our sacred mission, but I implore you to seek another way. Her final words to me were, “Look to Fortuna.” I’m not sure what the city of gambling and sin has to do with this, but as one of the Elder Knights, you have access where I do not.
Letter from Aurora Adair to unknown recipient,
year 46 of the curse
Jake and I had taken off into the woods.
We screamed Patrick’s name while racing through the underbrush, sharp reeds and fallen branches tearing into our clothes. Bleeding and out of breath, we pressed on, cupping our hands to our lips and calling out to our friend.
