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Authors: Deborah Chester

BOOK: Reign of Shadows
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“Go
look one more time.”

“Lea,
it’s no good.”

“Please.”

“Lea—”

“Please.
Just one more time.”

“All
right,” he said to humor her. “But then we must go”

The
angle of light entering the cave had shifted since they first arrived. He could
see better, and he knew the sun was lower in the sky. They had to go soon, he
wanted no trouble either for himself or for Lea. He had to see that she was
safely home; then he must put as much distance between himself and the hold as
he could before darkness fell and he was forced to take sanctuary in an ice
cave for the night.

When
he reached the back chamber of the cave, the tunnel suddenly seemed too small
around him. he stopped, frowning, and looked back. The air grew strangely warm
and smelled of sweet fragrance as though flowers bloomed. A shiver ran through
Caelan, and he fell the touch of something cool and ancient go through him.

Afraid,
he remembered the horror of the wind spirits, but this was nothing like they
had been. This was strange but not unpleasant. He sensed no malevolence, only a
peaceful presence.

Then
the fragrance faded, and the air grew cold again.

Caelan
stumbled back as though released. He blinked and shook himself. Suddenly he
wanted out of there.

Whirling
around too fast, he slipped and fell with a thud. The impact made him grunt.
Stunned, he lay there a second in an effort to regain his breath.

As
he levered himself to his hands and knees, his fingers knocked against
something.

It
skidded away across the ice.

Caelan’s
heart stopped. For a moment he dared not move; then he scrambled forward on his
hands and knees, patting the ground with his hands, searching in the gloom.

He
found one stone, rough and angular like Lea’s. A short distance away he found a
second. This one was smaller, no bigger than the nail on his little finger, but
polished.

He
turned them over and over in his hands, unable to believe his luck. It couldn’t
happen like this. It simply couldn’t.

Yet
it had.

Lea’s
good fortune had been extended to him.

His
hand closed over the stones and he crawled forward, trying not to whoop with
joy.

She
was waiting outside. When he came scrambling out, her face lit up. “You found
some!”

“Yes!”
He showed them to her.

They
bent over the stones and held them up to the light filtering through the trees.

“Emeralds,”
he said in satisfaction. He wanted to shout, to dance. “I can’t believe it.”

“The
spirits here like you too,” she said, skipping around him. “Look at how pretty
the little one is.”

“It’s
polished, almost cut like a jewel,” he said in wonder. “A miracle.”

“A
special gift.”

In
sudden generosity, he held out his palm to her. “You didn’t find any today.
Take one of them, the one you like best, as your share.”

Her
mouth made a little O and she shook her head quickly. “I couldn’t. They’re
yours.”

“No,
one for each of us.”

“But,
Caelan, I have mine,” she said. “Nine is a complete number. Keep these. You
must. They’re for you.”

He
started to protest, but she pressed her fingers across his lips. “They’re a
pair, as we are. This is a special day, Caelan. You have been blessed in this.
Don’t let Father or your anger ever let you forget what you have been given
here. Believe there is good, and that you are good, just as you have been given
good today.”

As
she spoke, the sunlight shone down through the treetops and glowed upon her in
a shining mantle. Her words seemed to vibrate in the air.

Caelan’s
heart nearly stopped. He felt humbled by this child, so wise beyond her years.

Without
thought he knelt before her.

She
folded his hand around the emeralds. “One is me and one is you. Now you have
something to remember us always.”

Her
kindness spread over him like a balm. He loved her for it so much he thought
his heart would burst. Somehow he held his emotions in. “How do I thank the
earth spirits?” he whispered.

She
smiled and touched his cheeks with her small hands. “They know.”

He
took her hands and squeezed them. “Then I will say my gratitude to you. Thank
you for bringing me here, little one. If the spirits have favored me, it is
only because of you.”

“Now
you cannot forget me, no matter how far away you go.”

He
kissed her forehead. “I will never forget you,” he said, his voice rough. “I
swear it.”

She
pulled a little cloth bag from her pocket and held it up. “Here’s a pouch to
keep them in. I had Anya make two because I knew you’d find treasure too.”

Smiling,
he tucked the emeralds into the bag. He strung it over his neck and lucked it
beneath his tunics. The stones felt small and knobby against his chest, tiny
talismen of his sister’s love.

He
gathered her into his arms and hugged her tight. “I love you, little sister.”

She
hugged him back, tender and small in his arms. She was crying. “Oh, Caelan—”

Through
the quietness of the forest came the sound of distant thunder. Frowning, Caelan
slowly straightened to his feet and turned his head to listen.

Another
sound came, a rumbling bugle note unlike anything he had ever heard before. His
breath stopped in his lungs, and he was suddenly afraid.

His
heartbeat started pounding faster, harder. No, he thought. This could not be
happening.

He
heard the sound again, a trumpet call of disaster, eerie and ominous, closer
than the first. He had never heard such a noise before, yet instinctively he
recognized it. Old stories, told around the hearth, flashed through his mind.

“No,”
he said aloud.

Beside
him, Lea looked up at the sky. “What is that noise?”

His
paralysis fell away. Caelan grabbed her by the shoulders, swinging her bodily
around. “Get inside the cave. Hide there, and don’t come out.”

She
stared at him in bewilderment, making no move to obey. “But why—”

Gripping
her arm, he ran back to the cave, pushing her as he went. He picked up the food
basket and tossed it in the cave, along with his cloak and pack. “Hurry!” he
said, fear ragged in his voice. “Don’t ask questions. Just do as I say!”

He
pushed her toward the cave too hard, making her stumble and fall. Her face
puckered up, and tears filled her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

The
dragons trumpeted again. The sound filled Caelan with panic. On a sudden shift
of the wind, he smelled smoke.

“Gault
above, can’t you hear that?” he shouted at her. “The raiders have found the
hold. I’ve got to help them—”

Lea’s
eyes widened. “Thyzarenes?”

“I
think so.” He was busy yanking off his heavy outer tunic. Wadding it up into a
ball, he tossed it inside the cave and drew the dagger from his belt.

“No!”
She flung herself against him, gripping hard. “Don’t go. You mustn’t go!”

He
tried to pull away, but she was crying. Caelan hesitated, his mind tearing in
all directions. He was afraid to go back to the hold, afraid of what he might
find. His instincts were yelling at him to run for his life, run with Lea and
hide deep in the safety of the forest.

And
yet, how could he abandon the others, knowing they were defenseless and
unprotected from an attack? The walls couldn’t keep out dragons.

“I
must help them,” he said and gave his sister a shake. “Lea, listen to me.
Listen! You must be brave now. Hide in the cave until it’s safe. I’ll come back
for you.”

She
shook her head. “They’re going to kill everyone—”

“No!
I’ll help them. I can fight, with this.” He held up the dagger, his body
thrumming with protectiveness. “Now stay here. You’ll be safe as long as you
hide.”

Her
lip quivered. She stared at him through her tears. “Don’t go, Caelan. Don’t go!
I’ll never see you again!”

He
rose on his toes, listening to the strange noises. The forest had gone silent
with alarm. He could feel it around him. There was no time to waste with a
distraught child.

“Sweetness,
be brave. I have to help Father.”

“I
can help them too!” she said, refusing to let go of his sleeve. “Let me go. I’ll
wish the raiders away.”

“No,
you’re better off here.”

Even
as he said the words, he wondered. What was he and one dagger against the
savages? What if he couldn’t come back for her? How could she fare out here at
night in the forest, unprotected? Would she have enough sense to go to E’raumhold?
Or would she perish of cold, starvation, and the wolves?

His
resolve almost folded, but then he heard the hold bell ringing out an alarm. He
gulped in air. “Get in the cave.”

“But
they’re ringing the bell for us to come back.”

All
their lives they’d been told to come home at once if they heard the bell. She
would have run, but he flung his arm across her chest and held her bodily.

“Not
you.”

“But,
Caelan, they want us to come home. We have to—”

He
picked her up and pushed her into the cave. She clung to him, screaming his
name, but he pulled free.

“Promise
me you’ll stay here,” he said sternly, knowing he must keep her from following
him. “Promise me you won’t go to the hold, not until the dragons are gone.”

She
was crying again, her eyes clinging to him, eating him up. Slowly, fearfully,
she gave him a tiny nod.

“Hide
and don’t come out,” he said. “If you run out of food, you follow the stream
south. Watch the sun and you won’t get lost. You follow it to E’raumhold.”

“Aren’t
you going to come get me?”

“Yes,”
he said firmly. “I promise I will. Now hide.”

Touching
her curls one last time, he turned and started running.

“Caelan!”
she screamed after him, but he didn’t look back. There wasn’t time.

Chapter Eleven

Now
the deep
snow wasn’t pretty and it
wasn’t fun. It held him back when he needed to run like the wind. Soon his
breath was sawing in his lungs. He wasn’t that far away from the hold, only a
quarter of a mile, perhaps less, and yet the distance never seemed to close.
The bell rang again, then abruptly stopped.

Ignoring
the pain in his lungs, Caelan drove his aching legs onward until he reached the
edge of the forest. There he stopped, concealed by pine branches. He gulped in
deep lungfuls of air. It felt like razors in his lungs.

The
pale walls of the hold reflected the sunlight. To the north, the mountains rose
mightily, filling the world. And overhead circled black creatures from a
nightmare, too many to count, their wingspans as huge as despair. Leathery
wings beat a hum that filled the air. And when the wind shifted, Caelan caught
a peculiar scorched scent that made his nostrils wrinkle.

The
dragons’ long serpentine necks ended in narrow, crested heads and fanged
snouts. Their bodies were long and thin as well, with clawed limbs tucked up
light against their scaled undercarriages as they flew.

Directed
by riders clinging to leather harnesses, the dragons bugled, whipping their
long necks around as they sailed low over the hold. Flames shot from their
gaping mouths, searing the rooftops within the hold. Smoke was already roiling
skyward in a dark column.

The
riders carried weapons that looked like spears, only the tips were as long as a
man’s arm with jagged edges, and the hafts were short—weapons for stabbing, not
throwing.

Dragons
dropped into the hold, only to lift again in a constant shifting of motion. The
stabbing spears dripped red, and Caelan could hear screams.

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