Destiny of the Light: Shadow Through Time 1 (29 page)

Pagan nodded in reply, yet at that moment their advancing light touched a shadowed form on the tunnel floor ahead. Hush darted forward as Lae made a frightened sound. She felt Pagan snatch her arm again, raising his brand to reveal the sorry sight of The Light sprawled, wet and filthy, on cold, unyielding stone. A makeshift satchel rested on her back.

Quickly, Pagan gave the brand to Lae and strode forward to kneel at Khatrene’s side. Lae glanced beyond her to the boulder that marked the end of the secret tunnel, and finding it snugly in place could not explain how Khatter had gained entry. Had she come down the long winding tunnel on her own?

Hush, who had been hovering in the background, now came to Lae and pointed first at The Light, then at herself. The fingers of her two hands then became two pairs of legs walking forward side by side.

‘You brought The Light here?’ Lae asked, a smile breaking over her face.

Hush smiled shyly back, glanced at Pagan, and then looked away.

Lae caught her arm. ‘Did anyone see you come here?’ she whispered.

Hush shook her head, the fuzzy curls bumping her face and then springing back.

‘Shall we look to The Light?’ Pagan hissed at them. ‘She may be harmed,’ and he laid a hand on her forehead and closed his eyes.

Hush fluttered and touched her ear, pointed at the rock which blocked their entry to the main tunnel.

‘Be very quiet,’ Lae whispered, and Pagan glanced up, nodded and lowered the torch until it lay on the floor, its muted light facing away from the rock. She realised then that the crack around where the rock fitted might allow the glow of their torch to filter into the tunnel beyond. If guardsmen saw it and moved the rock …

But they were approaching. Footsteps came from the tunnel in front of them. Lae pointed at the brand, crunching her hand into a fist but where Hush would have understood instantly, Pagan merely frowned at her to be still.

‘Ho,’ came a voice from the other side of the rock. ‘What light is this?’

Lae’s heart leaped up into her throat. Hush’s fingers slid into hers and Lae squeezed them.

‘Move the rock,’ the voice said and Hush pulled on Lae’s hand, darting forward to snatch up the brand at the same instant Pagan pulled The Light into his arms.

They ran back up the tunnel the way they had come, not caring that their footfalls would alert the guards. Lae’s breath rasped in her throat as she ran beside Hush, glancing back to see Pagan racing after them. She could see no guardsmen behind him but heard their shouts, and knew they would follow.

‘Find us a hiding place,’ Pagan called.

Abruptly Hush halted and he almost ran into them before she darted left into a side tunnel pulling Lae with her. They ran in a good distance before Pagan put The Light to ground and took the brand from Hush. ‘Wait here,’ he told them both, drawing his sword.

Lae shook her head, eyes wide. ‘There are more than two of them,’ she said, sure that she had heard at least three voices.

To her horror, Pagan grinned. ‘So long as there are less than ten,’ he replied, and before she could tell him he was the most reckless idiot she had ever met, he was gone, running out into the tunnel to lead their puruers away.

Lae crouched beside The Light, Hush at her side as they waited in darkness so thick it seemed to press on her skin. A few seconds later four men of her father’s guard thundered past, briefly lighting the entry to their side tunnel but not far enough along it for them to be seen. Seconds ticked over like years as Lae waited for the inevitable sound of confrontation.

Then it came, muted sounds of blade against blade.

Lae wouldn’t let herself consider the possibility that Pagan might not be coming back. The stupid boy thought himself indestructible.

Hush stroked her arm, then tapped upon it. Lae felt two fingers walking up to her shoulder. Then beside those, another two fingers.

You’ll bring him back?’ she asked.

Hush patted the place where a moment before her fingers had walked. Then Lae felt the air beside her move. Several seconds later she realised she was alone. And frightened.

The sound of swords meeting continued and she took comfort from that. While there was battle, Pagan lived. There was hope that they could yet rescue The Light. If she was to be taken to her Champion, they needed Pagan. She needed Pagan.

Moments, or perhaps minutes later the sound of battle ceased and there was nothing but silence. Heavy, ominous silence.

Lae clamped her lips shut, knowing she must wait quietly, trusting that Pagan had proved victorious, and that Hush would lead him back. She strained her ears yet heard nothing at all and wondered why he did not call out a greeting. He must know that she would be wondering if he had survived, and that the sound of his voice would calm her fears.

Yet how strange, she thought suddenly, that the sound of Pagan’s voice should ever calm her, when before it had only brought argument.

Finally she heard footsteps approach and she squeezed Khatrene’s fingers so tightly she was sure it would rouse her. The glow of an approaching torch lit the tunnel ahead and Lae braced herself.

‘The triumphant warrior returns,’ Pagan said, as he stepped into the tunnel, his expression so smug Lae wanted to release her tension by slapping it off his face, Hush danced in behind him, her eyes alight with excitement and admiration, which had no doubt encouraged Pagan to believe himself worthy of much esteem.

It was on Lae’s tongue to tell him just how low she esteemed him when she noted that one sleeve of his shirt was torn and bloodied.

He saw her gaze of concern and shrugged it off. ‘A scratch.’

‘Heal it,’ Lae demanded and Pagan raised his brows.

‘Your voice has its sharpened edge back,’ he commented, and turned to say to Hush, ‘Perhaps your friend feared to lose her new betrothed before we had even shared a kiss.’ His gaze swung back to Lae, eyes glittering with challenge.

Hush raised a hand to her chest in shock, then fluttered at Lae about embraces and children.

Lae waved her query away sharply and turned a thunderous expression on her new ‘betrothed’. Her words when they came were deliberate and clear. ‘Hear this, boy,’ she said. ‘I do not care for you at all. Not for your conversation, or your fighting skills and most certainly not for your kiss. I care to see your arm healed so that you can carry The Light. You are transportation, nothing more.’

Pagan’s smile softened. ‘And here I thought you might have feared for my life.’

Lae’s mouth twitched yet she said nothing, and neither did he as he handed the torch to Hush who, now embarrassed, could barely meet his eyes. She put it on the ground.

He took off his jacket and then pulled his shirt off over his head, covering the sliced flesh of his upper arm with one hand. Then he closed his eyes and began to mouth words. Lae watched him a moment, her attention lingering on the wide, smooth chest he had revealed. Then she frowned and turned away.

‘Hush,’ she called softly, and waved her friend over. Hush tiptoed around Pagan, keeping her eyes averted, and came to crouch beside Lae, plucking at her short dress in agitation. Pagan and I are taking The Light to the Plains,’ Lae whispered. ‘Will you come with us?’

Hush shook her head, the golden orbs of her eyes large and luminous. She looked down at her hands and made a gesture of separation, the splitting of palms she used to indicate privacy.

Lae frowned. ‘You want to be alone?’

Hush shook her head. Pointed to Lae, to Pagan.

Lae snatched her arm. ‘Just because I might marry him doesn’t mean —’

Hush chopped her hands together and pointed at Lae’s eyes and then again at Pagan.

Lae pressed her lips together, knowing very well what her friend meant. Hush had seen something in the way she looked at Pagan. And in truth Lae did look at him differently now. But that didn’t mean she disliked him any the less. ‘I want you to stay,’ she said.

Hush shook her head. She made the leaving signal, with one hand slapping off the other.

‘No.’

‘Shall I take up my burden now?’ Pagan asked, standing over them.

Lae let her friend’s arm go and stood to face her enemy. She glanced at his arm and saw that it was completely healed. Talis himself could have done no better. Obviously the boy’s Guardian was strong but Lae would be the last one to compliment him.

‘The Light is cold and wet. Give me your shirt,’ she said and snatched it out of his hand. ‘Now look away,’ she instructed, as she crouched to lift Khatrene from the floor. At a gesture from Lae, Hush stepped to the other side of their sleeping Princess and both women looked expectantly at Pagan.

He grunted and turned his back to them, crossing his arms.

Satisfied, Lae removed the satchel and unlaced Khatrene’s sodden gown, then with Hush’s help, she struggled her limp patient out of her clothes and into the over-large shirt of her temporary Champion.

A quick glance at Pagan’s back showed Lae that he continued to obey her, and pondering this anomaly all but distracted her from the broad shoulders that rose and fell as he waited for her to finish her task. Though not as solid as Talis, Pagan’s lean form was far from unattractive. ‘I am done,’ she said, still cradling Khatrene’s limp head against her chest. ‘Yet why has she not woken?’

‘Her vitality was low,’ Pagan said. ‘I gave her a healing sleep.’

Lae raised an eyebrow at this. She hoped his Guardian lessons were well advanced. Talis would not thank him for practising his art on the most important mother in their history.

Hush rose gracefully to her trotters and fluttered a farewell, her gaze skidding off Pagan before she darted from the tunnel.

‘Farewell,’ Lae called after her, then turned to face Pagan whose gaze centred on the ill-dressed Khatter, her bare legs exposed by the inadequate length of his shirt.

‘You may now carry The Light and I will lead us to the Plains,’ Lae said.

Pagan stepped forward to obey, a little too eagerly it seemed to Lae.

‘But know this, son of the House of Guardians,’ she said coldly, waiting until she had caught his eye. ‘If you take any liberty with my friend Khatter while she lies unprotected in your arms, I will see that you do not live to brag about it.’

Pagan gave Lae a look of affront, and in truth his tone was injured. ‘Do you think I would dishonour my House in such a way?’ he said softly, as though The Light herself might hear. ‘Tell this to Talis and before he kills me I will call you a liar.’

No quick retort rose to Lae’s lips, and she found herself embarrassed, a sure way to fire her anger. ‘I do not know what you are capable of,’ she hissed, pushing Khatrene into his arms, then struggling awkwardly to her feet and snatching up The Light’s satchel.

Pagan gathered The Light to his chest and rose. ‘It appears you do not,’ he said quietly.

Lae would not meet his gaze, and instead found distraction in the movement of his arms, where muscles smooth as flowing water moved beneath the skin. The Light’s cheek now lay against his chest, and Lae found her hand trembling as she adjusted his shirt, the better to cover Khatter should Pagan prove false. This accomplished, she glanced up and found his scrutiny not on the scantily covered body of The Light, but on herself.

‘It is best we leave,’ she said softly.

Pagan nodded.

Lae nodded in return, yet it was a moment before she turned to retrieve the torch and light their way. Her feet led her forward, to a tunnel they had come out of and then on to the side tunnels skirting the cliffs. It was the same route Hush had led her on when Lae had fled her father months before.

Though she was not awake and aware, here was another woman, his own wife, fleeing him with just such fear in her heart. Lae hoped she would have the opportunity to ask Khatter what had happened before she disappeared into exile. For it was indeed strange to hear that her father had locked his wife away from the world, and even her own Champion.

Lae’s thoughts moved on then, to Talis and their lost betrothal. And to Pagan’s vow to take his cousin’s place. Curiosity woke her tongue.

‘Pagan,’ she said, not slowing her pace.

‘I am here,’ he replied, a few steps behind her.

‘Truthfully … did you promise to marry me?’ A simple question, yet Lae held her breath waiting for his answer.

‘Aye,’ Pagan said. ‘I promised I would. Your father has wealth and influence. I will be well made with such a match.’

‘Indeed?’ A day ago Lae would have added the sharp edge of her tongue to the argument. Yet now she sensed … no, within herself she knew, that fortune meant little to Pagan, just as it had to Talis. Why then would he agree to such a merger? Was it only duty to his cousin? Lae had to know. ‘What would you say if I choose Sh’hale instead?’

‘I would say you are a fool,’ Pagan replied, ‘and that your fate will be no better than The Light’s.’

Lae paused at the juncture of two tunnels and turned back to check on Khatrene. The Light still lay as though sleeping, resting comfortably in the arms of the man who had been Lae’s nemesis and apparently was no more. Exertion had wrung beads of perspiration from him and they oiled his skin to glistening in the soft torchlight.

‘Your friend is safe from harm,’ Pagan said, and when Lae looked, she found him watching her again.

‘The way is long. Can you manage?’ she asked.

Pagan nodded. ‘And do not fear that if you drop the brand I will flee into the darkness.’

Lae had to smile, remembering her flight from Pagan in her mother’s family Shrine. He had been furious, yet now he smiled at the memory.

Quickly then into Lae’s mind came another memory, of Pagan in the Volcastle gardens scolding her for her dealings with Sh’hale, accusing her of inviting flattery. Had those been the actions of a man intent on protecting the honour of his cousin, or of a man with jealousy in his heart? Lae felt wonder at this new thought. Perhaps there had been a sort of affection in his jibes that she’d known nothing of. And now, to agree so easily to a marriage he should have rebuffed …

‘Very well, Guardian,’ she said. ‘I will not ask after your condition again. A long night lies ahead of us, but let us hurry so that we may reach the Plains before daybreak.’