Bonded: Book One of the ShadowLight Saga, an Epic Fantasy Adventure (35 page)

“Stop it!” she cried. “You’re
hurting him.”

The sting of tears burnt
her lids, breaking over her cheeks as she stared helplessly at Whitefoot. The
polecat shifted, blinking his button eyes at her.

Run, Emma.

Whitefoot’s faint images
played through Emma’s mind, but she shook her head at him.

I will not leave you.

Go. It’s too late for
me. My back is broken.

Emma heaved out a shriek
from deep in her belly at the extent of Whitefoot’s injury.

Lothar laughed, his waxy
lips spreading over his teeth.

“I have given you
everything—dresses, jewelry, pastries, palaces. Finery nei Scandian woman has
ever known. And you, you betray me.” Lothar’s grip on her gown dug deeper,
catching the skin of her chest as he pressed her backward, his torso pressing
into hers.

“Give Whitefoot to me,”
Emma begged.

Lothar laughed again, a
high-pitched squeak ending on a sharp note.

“I wanted you to love
me. Am I so terrible that you could not find it in your heart to love someone
like me?”

Emma registered the pain
in the man’s eyes. She knew he’d been hurt in his past. Perhaps one time too
many, but it didn’t excuse the damage he’d inflicted on the polecat.

“Please, let me have
Whitefoot,” she pleaded again.

With her final appeal,
Lothar’s eyes sharpened, dilating. He dropped the creature to the floor and
Emma squealed out in agony for her companion as Whitefoot hit stone. She
scrambled to reach him, but Lothar pulled her back by the fabric of her dress,
forcing her against the wall.

“You look beautiful in
your wedding gown,” he said, smiling down upon her. The leer in his face sent a
shiver through her body.

“Erik is almost here.” Emma
stared back into his flat black eyes, lifting her chin in defiance.

“Nei, there is no way
into the castle aside from the shadowwalk. He cannot scale the walls. You and I
will have our union and I will call the wolves back to finish him and your
brother.”

“Hallad is here?”

Lothar’s heat sunk into
Emma, seeping through her gown, but the thought of Hallad sent her a surge of
hope.

“Not for long. I will
collect your half-sister and return her to my Lord, but first, you must be
silenced.”

Lothar thrust his mouth
onto Emma's, pressing her backward until her back flattened against the cold
wall. With his free hand, he piled her skirts in his fists, pulling them
upward, exposing her legs and grabbing at her flesh.

*****

Swan squeezed her eyes
shut. Another scream raged above them, dissolving into a cry. Erik pitched
forward, scrambling for a way up the cliff face. He stormed the base, reaching
up with shaking hands to grip rocks, trying to find footholds as he climbed, but
the stone gave way and Erik tumbled to the ground in an avalanche of rubble.

Images erupted in
Hallad’s mind: the pale, wax-colored lord squeezing Emma at her shoulders,
pushing her against a stone wall, the back of Emma’s head smacked against the
stone causing her lids to flutter, the glint of a blade piercing her neck, the
man’s body pressed angrily to hers. He realized the images came from Swan as
she viewed the lord and their little sister through the shadowwalk.

“Erik, you must go to
Emma now. Go through the shadowwalk, not the dream. Think yourself there and go
before Lothar takes her life.” As Swan’s command filled his head, Hallad spoke
the words aloud to direct Erik. He reveled in the ease of their newfound
connection.

Erik’s face turned to
the color of sour milk as he acknowledged the warning. His eyes bulged in
concentration. His jaw fluttered as his teeth ground. For a moment, Hallad
thought nothing would happen, but abruptly Erik’s body began to shimmer. The
barren rock behind him shone clear through his form. A shot of coldness blasted
from the vicinity of Erik's body. Hallad blinked and Erik disappeared into the
dusk.

We must help him.
Swan’s voice boomed in Hallad’s head.

Hallad plied the
dyrr
from his pocket in response. His sister reached for him, grabbing his hand in
hers. She brushed her eyes sideways, sending him a readying glance with her
blue-black eyes, and squeezed his hand once. Hallad inhaled. He read the runes
flashing across the face of the dyrr.

Hallad heard Rota's and
Olrun’s footsteps in thunderous thumps as they ran toward them but the dyrr did
not open a doorway in front of them. Instead, with his connection to Swan, the
dyrr joined with her shadowwalk and their bodies flashed.

Nausea filled the pit of
Hallad’s stomach. A chill pierced his bones. The images around him spun. Olrun’s
freckled face and Rota’s grimace melded with the landscape as they approached. The
whirling world dizzied Hallad, spinning, swirling and darkening, but he stood
hand in hand with his sister. When he realized the sensation of stomach
sickness belonged to Swan, he willed himself to surrender his strength to her,
entwining her fingers in his own and sensing her body respond by clearing the
bile in her gut as they propelled themselves into the shadowwalk.

A whirl of gray whipped.
The feel of his sister’s palm cupping his own, her fingers between his, sent a
wave of vigor throughout Hallad’s muscles.

The whir around them
settled. Erik came into view as Hallad struggled to keep both Swan and himself
upright, as if sailors finding their sea legs on their first voyage. Behind
Erik, Emma curled against the wall, peering at Lothar with hatred. Runaway
strands of her hair strung over her face. Blood stained the sun-kissed locks. The
crimson stream continued to spread down her neck, spoiling the magnificent
dress she wore. Her skirts bore savage tears and Hallad’s muscles fired at the
implication. Emma supported the lax body of a polecat within her arms as tears
streamed over her cheeks. Erik planted himself between Lothar and Emma, his
sword bearing witness to a slash in Lothar’s skin.

Erik lunged at Lothar. For
all of the lord’s delicate appearance, he expertly dodged Erik’s rage,
side-stepping his thrust. A knife blazed in Lothar’s fist, his only defense
against Erik’s oncoming anger. Erik grunted and pressed onward, matching the
slippery man’s pace and pushing him backward until Lothar’s shoulders met the wall.
Lothar jabbed his blade toward Erik’s stomach as Emma let out a gurgled cry, but
Erik collapsed his middle, missing the blow. He snatched Lothar’s wrist,
twisting until the lord lost his grip on the knife. Metal clattered to the
ground. Erik pinned Lothar against the wall, the point of his sword seeking
Lothar’s neck.

Swan’s words swelled in
Hallad’s head again, and he repeated them to Erik.

“If you spill his blood
in vengeance, you open yourself to the Shadow.”

“I do not care the
cost!” spat Erik in reply. His hand trembled in rage, tightening against the
hilt of his short sword.

“Erik, the price is your
soul,” reasoned Hallad. “Do not do this thing. We will bring him to justice. We
will deliver him to Glitner where he will be punished for his crimes.”

“The only justice for
him is death!” Erik heaved his short sword back, gaining momentum for the kill.
A smile spread Lothar’s lips, his eyes slithering with pleasure as his form
began to dissolve into the stone behind him.

If Lothar escapes
through the shadowwalk, Erik will pursue him. You will not be at full strength
in the walk as I will have to deliver us both and I do not know if I am even
capable of such power.

Hallad realized his
sister suggested they kill Lothar before he fled, even though she did not say
the words. His chest thundered at the implication. He had never taken a mortal
life. His quick eyes took in Emma sobbing on the ground then Erik, his temples
bulging with angry veins as his short sword penetrated the waxy skin of
Lothar’s fading neck.

I am the Guardian
, he thought as his mind hit a resolve.

Sister, I will not
let you bare the consequence alone. The burden belongs to us both.

Swan’s blue-black eyes
met his own, holding him. She tipped her chin, acknowledging their decision. Within
a blink, her body vanished and reappeared next to Lothar. Lothar’s form struggled
to fade into the Shadow, but Swan’s own emerging figure met his, blocking his
escape into the void. She strained against him. Hallad felt the man’s power
through his connection to his sister. Swan could barely contain him.

Hallad hefted his swan
sword like a javelin, over his shoulder, the polished silver catching the
orangey-red of firelight. The weight of the sword pressed his arm tight over
his collarbone as he extended his elbow into the air. With a heave, he sent the
blade flying, whisking past Erik, thudding directly into Lothar’s chest.

Erik, unable to act
faster than the twins, watched as a crimson spray released from Lothar, and the
man’s head lulled backward. Erik released his grip on Lothar’s shoulder, as the
lord's dead form fell to the ground.

No rage existed as Erik
turned and stared into Swan’s eyes.

“Why?” he asked, the
anger and fury sputtering out, his features relaxing with relief.

“I owed you,” said
Hallad. He gestured toward Swan as her words became his own. “We owed you.”

The flood in Erik's eyes
told Hallad all had been forgiven.

Instinctively, Erik
sought Emma, still huddling in the corner with the limp polecat in her arms. Her
wide gray eyes streaked with red, caught Erik’s wild green. He ran, bent and
slid to her, reaching for her face with his fingers, exploring her cheeks and
lips, as if making sure she existed. They embraced, their lips seeking one
another, hungry for confirmation of their reality.

Hallad turned to Swan,
still standing over Lothar’s slack body. He reached out for his sister,
gesturing her to him. She came and sunk into his embrace.

Brother,
Swan said.
I do not know what doorway to the
Shadow our actions opened this night.

Hallad squeezed her,
feeling her skin upon his as an extension of his own.

Whatever may come,
sister, we will face it together.

“I cannot go with you. Glitner
will not welcome me.” Wisps of Seretta’s amber hair lifted in the breeze as
they stood before the gates to Glitner.

“I understand,” said
Hallad. “Know we are thankful for all you’ve done.”

“Thankful?” Emma bounded
into Seretta, wrapping her arms around the woman’s neck.

Seretta stumbled back,
teetering to regain her composure.

“More than thanks,
brother! Seretta, you have my most sincere appreciation for as long as my heart
beats. If not for you . . . ”

A pink nose popped out
from the cascade of Emma’s sun-kissed hair, sniffing the songvari. Emma
giggled.

“Whitefoot gives his
deepest thanks for mending his back, too,” said Emma, turning her smile on
Rolf. “And you!” She leapt from Seretta to Rolf, hugging him as high up as she
could reach, burying her head into his chest. “Rolf, I am awestruck at your
ability. You are truly a scald and a craftsman extraordinaire.”

Rolf flushed at Emma’s
words. He shifted his gaze to Seretta, holding her eyes in silent gratitude. The
sparks in his eyes hinted that more than gratefulness for Seretta ignited
inside him.

Erik caught sight of his
brother’s look.

“Go with Seretta,
brother.”

Rolf shook his head.
“Nei. My place is with you.”

“You’ve stood in my
shadow for too long, now. It’s time you find your own happiness, Rolf.”

The younger brother
hesitated.

Erik directed a question
to Seretta. “And you will keep my little brother safe from those who seek to
exploit the touch of the songvari?”

Seretta nodded, but Rolf
interrupted.

“Brother, I am a man. I
can protect myself.”

“You are a fool with a
loose tongue and a big heart who is continually looking for trouble.”

“Ja, but you are the
trouble I always find.”

Erik’s angled features
broke into a grin. He extended his right arm and grabbed his brother’s shoulder
with a tight grip.

Emma, still hugging
Rolf, said, “I’ll miss you.”

Rolf whispered back, “He
can be a handful, but I’m counting on you to keep him in line.”

Emma reached for Erik’s
arm, tugging him into Rolf’s embrace. While the three said their goodbyes,
Seretta plucked Hallad’s tunic, gesturing for him to follow her a few paces
away from the others.

“Glitner will seek to
use you and your sister for their own motives.”

“I figured as much,”
said Hallad, nodding in agreement.

“The Palace will have a
particular interest in Erik given his ability in the shadowwalk is the
strongest known aside from, perhaps, your sister’s. But Erik has none of the
Mother’s touch to keep him from the Shadow. Their means of manipulation will
not be gentle. And Emma. It is not any caller who can single-mindedly call off
a pack of hungry wolves under the control of another caller. She will be of
interest to them as well.”