Chasing Shadows (33 page)

She slipped down the stairs, setting each heavy boot down gently to make as little noise as possible. Her boot squeaked against one of the steps, and Sarah winced at the noise. Discarding any notion of stealth, she moved hastily along the stairwell, keeping her head down as she passed the kitchen on her way to the servants’ entrance. She slipped out the door, escaping into the open air and breathing deeply.

“Freedom,” she whispered. She meant to say it with conviction, but it sounded like she was trying to remind herself of what she was searching for and had yet to find.

Walking along the wall closest to the forest’s edge, her steps slowed as she neared the sleeping rose patch, which was only a bunch of twigs sticking up from the snowy ground at the present. But she had no trouble spotting the bush she was looking for among the other tangled vines and branches.

Picking her way carefully through the thorny garden, she knelt heavily on the upturned earth that had been disturbed for Edith’s final resting place, dropping her load carelessly at her side. She felt tears prick her vision as she stared at the small rosebush—no more than a foot tall—that Terrance had lovingly transplanted to mark the grave. It was nothing more than a tangle of vertical branches, all reaching heavenward as they twined around one another in a thorny dance. But to Sarah it was a beautiful symbol of hope. Edith would have been pleased.

She lost track of time as she sat there, the snow soaking through her skirt and chilling her knees. She desperately wanted to say something, even though Edith couldn’t hear her, but she needed that closure, needed to assure herself that she wasn’t abandoning her friend by running away.

Then what are you doing?
Sarah winced at the disdainful voice inside her head.

To distract herself, she rubbed an icy chunk of snow between her thumb and forefinger. “You’d have liked Will,” she whispered aloud, the barest of smiles gracing her lips. Dropping the dirty clod, she focused her eyes on the disturbed ground, wanting to explain, to justify her actions, yet knowing that her words fell on deaf ears. “I’m going to leave, and I don’t think I’ll be coming back here.”

Her next breath was shaky and choked with tears. “So I guess this is goodbye. But you don’t have to worry about me. Will is always caring for me, and I have God.”
Although I haven’t really talked to Him much, as of late
, she thought ashamedly, realizing she hadn’t once sought His council in all of her planning. Sarah abruptly realized that she hadn’t asked Him because she was afraid His answer might differ from hers. But it wasn’t like she was going
against
His will, exactly.

Retreating is
your
answer,
her inner voice reminded.

Sarah released a heavy sigh. “I just don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I feel anxious and trapped, but I don’t know what I’m running from or to.” She knew she was babbling and swiped her thumb under the corner of her eye to catch her falling tears. Her voice wavered. “What happened to you really shook me. You took me in and were my first friend in the castle, and I couldn’t do anything—”

She turned her head away, biting back her lip to hide her sob. That was when she remembered the handkerchief she had brought with her. She reached into her sleeve and brought out the ratty piece of fabric, clutching it possessively in her fist.

Sarah went on, her voice soft. “You said you had news to share, and I never got to hear it. I wish I could say something to make it right, to make up for leaving you.” Her shoulders drooped in a sigh. “I know it doesn’t really matter anymore, but I can’t seem to do anything right and wish I could fix this. Seeing you like—” Sarah shook her head, trying to cast the image aside. “It just made death seem too real. I don’t know, maybe that’s what I’m running from.”

You can’t outrun death.
She could almost hear Edith’s voice in the wind, and she turned her head toward the forest, foolishly scanning the trees for her familiar face. But, of course, there was no one.

Sarah rose on shaky legs, feeling an intense desire to run from this place and never look back. With tears pouring unchecked down her cheeks, she gave Edith’s final resting place a wavering smile. “I hope your boy is beside the angels to greet you. Don’t forget about me,” she whispered, laying the handkerchief carefully over one of the thorny branches marking the grave. The square of fabric flapped gently in the breeze.

She picked her sack off the ground and gingerly made her way through the slumbering rose bushes. Keeping her eyes focused on the woods, she walked with determined strides into the trees. She was so intent on not looking behind her that she tripped over an exposed root and nearly toppled over. The saying about not being able to see the forest for the trees came to mind, and her steps faltered. But she had thought this through and saw everything clearly. There was nothing to doubt, she reasoned, trying to bolster her courage as she picked up her pace. She was doing the right thing. 

And when she began to question in her insecurity, she ran, trying to escape the doubts that followed at her heels.

****

Night was approaching fast. Will planted a fist against his mouth as he stared at the flames, thinking in silence, though his mind was already made up. He could not take Sarah away from her family; she would never forgive herself for leaving them. It was why he had remained in Serimone after his parents’ deaths, because he knew he would forever question if the people and his uncle needed him. And there was also the matter of taking responsibility for an unwed woman, and he could never afford for the two of them to marry if he left his livelihood behind. . . . Not that she had mentioned marriage, only a temporary respite.

Will chastised himself for thinking—
wanting
to believe—that more was there than what she had asked of him. The situation was hardly permanent, and she needed a friend and protection on her brief journey, nothing more. It would be completely unwise, foolish even, for them to escape together. No matter that he was tempted.

Against his better judgment, he allowed himself to consider last night, the way she had allowed him to touch and hold and comfort her without a second thought. He had never felt as protective of her as when she was asleep, with her vulnerability and hurt evident in every line of her face. No feeling could compare to that of holding her in his arms, with her fully trusting that he would keep her safe. And when it had been just the two of them as they shared the sunrise, it felt like nothing stood in their way—no obstacles to stop him from admitting his feelings and asking her to be his for eternity, to wake up in his arms for the remainder of theirs.

Groaning, he shoved his fingers back through his hair and rose to his feet. The sun was close to setting, and he was only putting off disappointing her. Whipping on his cloak in agitation, he glanced back at the fire and decided that he wouldn’t put it out; he would be back soon, anyway.

He slammed the door behind him, upsetting a patch of snow on the roof. It slipped over the side and landed on the ground in a heavy heap. Frowning, Will stomped through the forest, making his way to the small brook at which they were supposed to rendezvous. He half hoped that Sarah would not be there, because then there would be no need for him to give her an answer he was sure would be displeasing.

An owl hooted somewhere nearby, and he halted in his tracks. There was something not quite right about the sound, and he found himself straining his ears when he heard it again. Turning in the direction he thought the false hoot came from, he caught a flash of green dart behind one of the snowcapped trees. His first instinct was to assume it was an animal of some kind, but it had been too tall for that.

Taking a cautious step, Will could just make out the slight fluttering of a cloak in the breeze. He held his breath. Sarah had said that there was someone impersonating the Shadow. Was it possible this was he?

His suspicions were confirmed when the imposter stepped out from behind the tree, fully revealing himself. The man was dressed in brown leather pants, lace-up boots, and the Shadow’s signature green cloak with the hood drawn over his features. He even had the gall to wear a pack of arrows and hold a bow, as if he knew how to use it.

They stared each other down. Will calculated how many steps it would take before he could reach out and strangle the man who was tampering with his sacred identity, who had nearly killed Sarah and taken the life of her friend.

He had just estimated the distance between them when the man skipped backwards a step and then bolted into the forest, challenging him to follow. Will took off after him, running in the opposite direction of his and Sarah’s meeting place. He would meet her later after he dealt with this filth.

He followed close at the imposter’s heels, but he couldn’t seem to overpower him. What the man lacked in speed he made up for in agility as he slipped through small gaps between the trees and darted under short limbs that Will had to avoid. He was beginning to think it was a fruitless pursuit when his ears picked up the rumbling sound of Glenborough Falls in the distance. Now with a new goal in mind, he charged after his target, planning to force him into the water and, if need be, over the falls.

The roaring grew louder, and Will knew they were almost upon the water. But then the man suddenly released the bow and removed the quiver from his back, dropping it to the ground as he ran.

Confused but knowing an opportunity when he saw it, Will bent and snatched them from the ground, barely breaking stride. Slinging the pack over his shoulder, he set the arrow in a movement as familiar as breathing and broke through the trees to find the hooded man sloshing through the shallow water.

“Halt!” Will yelled, raising the bow as he splashed into the freezing ankle-deep water after him. “I have you in my sights!” The man jerked to a stop, turning around slowly to face him. Will squinted into the near darkness. “Now remove the hood.”

The man ignored his command and advanced on him slowly, hands raised in surrender. There was something familiar about the way he walked. . . . Will drew the string back, letting him know he meant business. “I said stop!” The imposter obeyed, though still he did not reveal his identity. “The hood,” he growled, angling the bow.

The man reached up and flipped his hood back without hesitation. “You wouldn’t shoot a woman, would you, darling?”

He felt Jade’s cocky grin across the feet that separated them and ground his teeth in irritation. Lowering the weapon, he glowered at her. “You’re the one who has been masquerading as the Shadow? You murdered someone, Jade! This isn’t one of your little games.”

She sauntered toward him, her eyes narrowing in that catlike way that let him know she was pleased with herself.  “I’ve never killed anyone, William.” Pressing a hand to her heart in a move meant to distract him, she cocked her head to the side and turned her lips down in a pout. “It hurts that you think I could do such a thing.”

“Well, then what is this?” He shook the bow in front of her face. “I could have killed you!”

“I had to get your attention
somehow
.” Jade flipped her braid over her shoulder. Shooting him a seductive smile, she placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned toward his ear. He tightened his grip on the bow, but didn’t give her the satisfaction of pulling away.

“I was not the one who killed that woman, and you know that,” she whispered, her mouth brushing his ear. Will pursed his lips and thought he heard one of his knuckles pop. “But I know who did.”

That caught his attention.

Gripping her shoulders, he pushed her back to see her face. “You know who broke into the castle?”

She grinned coyly and ran a finger playfully down his chest. “I know a lot of things.”

He grabbed her wrists and held them tight, though she didn’t pull away. “Cut the charade,” he said sternly, giving her a little shake to knock some sense into her. “Now who killed that woman?”

Her voice turned husky, a habit she couldn’t seem to break. “And what will you do for me if I tell you?”

Will released her abruptly and took a step back, suddenly disgusted with this woman he had once called a friend. “Good God, Jade, what is wrong with you? You can be so exasperating!”

The façade chipped away for a moment, and he could see his words had hurt before the indifferent mask veiled her features once more. “Aren’t you curious?” Her voice had lost its purposefully alluring tone.

Though he was terribly curious, he knew that Jade would never divulge the secret; she loved them too much to lose one so intriguing. Will turned around without another word, tromping back through the shallow water.

“I know your secret, too,” she blurted loudly to be heard over the falls. He hesitated, and she cried out a little desperately, “How else would I know that you would follow me in this costume?”

Swallowing tightly, he turned back to her, feigning ignorance, though his heart was beating wildly in his chest. “What are you talking about? I have no secrets.”

Jade straightened the front of her shirt, tucking it back into her pants where it had come loose. She smoothed her braid, a nervous movement meant to regain her composure. “I recently discovered your alter-ego, and I must say that I’m surprised I hadn’t thought of it before. You had me fooled along with everyone else.”