Reign of Shadows (14 page)

She hesitated, her palm face out. She couldn't see me, but she felt my withdrawal. “May I?”

“Yes,” I replied, my voice coming out strained. Touching me was her way of seeing me, and I wouldn't stop her.

She resumed moving that hand toward me until her palm was flush with my cheek. A ragged breath escaped me, but I still made no move, knowing she had to do this.

An airy, light sound escaped her that resembled laughter.

“Are you laughing?” I rasped, every bit of me coiled and ready to snap into motion.

“A little. You're grinding your teeth.”

I unclenched my jaw. Her palm shifted on my face. She slid a fingertip over my bottom lip. The gentle touch on my lips fired me. It made me think of her lips and mine and the things they could do other than talk.

I sucked in a deep breath and shifted uncomfortably on the branch.

Her hand lifted slightly from my face. “Is this fine with you?” she whispered.

I nodded and breathed against her fingers as they landed on my mouth again, tracing the shape, her touch both soft and clinical like a physician examining me, although I'd never felt this way before when I had been poked and prodded as a boy. No, I felt afire, overly warm in the perpetual chill.

“Finished?” I asked in a choking voice when I knew she had fully explored my lips. What more could she do without killing me?

She lifted her fingers. “Quite. Thank you.” She sighed and settled back against me.

I waited, feeling her gradually relax. Her body softened into mine and I clenched my jaw, willing myself to relax, too—as impossible as that seemed. My pulse hammered at my neck. Every time I breathed, I caught her scent.

“Fowler, I don't care what you say. You're my friend.”

I inhaled. “I know.”

A glance down showed her lips curving. Her breathing gradually slowed. Her body melted into mine, so trusting. If she wasn't asleep she was on the verge of it.

Sleep wouldn't come for me. I knew this. Not with Luna curled against me and her words playing over and over in my mind.
I don't care what you say. You're my friend.
Not with the memory of those men and their bag of heads.

I thought of all this for long hours, staring into the trees.

A
T MIDLIGHT, WE
dropped down from the tree. I stretched, hands reaching for the sky, trying to work out the kinks in my body from sleeping the last few hours pressed up against Fowler in a tree.

“Did you sleep at all?” I asked in concern when I heard him yawn.

“Never could sleep in a tree. Always afraid I would fall out.”

I had slept well, but something told me that was because Fowler had been holding me.

He'd been kind, talking to me and letting me touch him. I almost believed he didn't hate having me with him, after all.
When I had gone so far as to tell him that he was my friend, he didn't even deny it.

Ducking my head to hide the small smile curving my lips, I started to move down the orchard path. I didn't get very far before he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

“Hold a moment.” Fowler turned me so that my back was to him.

“What are you doing?”

“We need to take care of something first. They're looking for girls, remember? We're going to fool people into thinking you're something else.”

I had almost forgotten. There was a bounty on my head in Relhok. Bile rose up in my throat.

He gathered my hair in his hand. “This has to go.”

I shouldn't have felt a stab of regret, but I did. Countless hours of my life had been spent with Perla arranging my hair. Perla, almost exclusively, had arranged my mother's hair, creating elaborate coiffures. Perla said my hair was like my mother's. Dark with buried hints of mahogany. It had mattered to her, so it mattered to me.

I turned around, closing a hand on one of the plaited ropes that hung over my shoulder almost protectively.

“Come now, Luna. Nothing says ‘girl' more than long plaits of hair.”

I thumbed the curling tip that hung practically to my waist.

He sighed. “Shorn hair trumps losing your head. You're already garbed in trousers. This is one simple thing we can do
to give you an advantage.”

I nodded, releasing my hair. “Of course.” To protest was vain and foolish. Still, as I presented my back to him a lump formed in my throat, thinking how horrified Perla would be. He gathered my hair up in one hand. There was pressure as his knife sawed through one plait and then the next.

The twin hunks of hair hit the ground like dead limbs. My head instantly felt lighter with my hair only reaching the top of my collar.

His strong fingers ran through my hair, loosening it around my head.

Cool air fluttered over the back of my neck. He sawed at a few random strands, working to create a semblance of evenness. “There,” he announced. “Not bad. How's it feel?”

I moved my head side to side, testing the unusual lightness. A few strands brushed my ears.

“Do I look like a boy?”

He was quiet for a moment and I could feel his stare on my face. I lifted my chin, waiting.

“Maybe if they're squinting.”

I let out a rough laugh. “Tell me we didn't cut my hair for nothing?”

“Well, it's dark, right?” He fumbled in his bag. “I think I have a hat in here. Yes. There we go.”

He plopped it down on my head, tucking a few bits of hair back from my ear. “There. Better.”

I smiled. Better. The word sank through me until the whole
motive for cutting my hair asserted itself, and then nothing felt better.

“Why would they want to kill girls my age?” I had my suspicions that Cullan knew I was alive . . . that he was hunting me, but I couldn't help hoping I was wrong. Eradicating an entire group of people, especially young girls, future mothers, seemed extreme just to get to me. Was he seeking extinction for mankind? What threat could he perceive in me? I was hoping Fowler could give me another explanation.

Fowler expelled a breath and started walking. I fell in beside him. He finally answered, proving, at least, that he wasn't going to go back to ignoring me.

“When I was a boy still wishing for better things, I would sometimes get caught up in wondering things like why. Not anymore.” He took a deep breath. “Over a year ago I heard screaming and I followed it.” He laughed once, a hard, broken sound. “Thought maybe I could help. And you know what I found?”

I shook my head.

“I found a father shoving his own son at a group of dwellers so that he could get away. The boy kept calling for him. . . .”

I stumbled, horrified at such a scenario. My chest ached, unable to imagine what he was describing.

He continued, “So I don't ask why anymore. Not after everything I've seen. Things are just the way they are, Luna.”

But sometimes there was a reason. Sometimes even evil had a motive. Grim acceptance swept over me like a chill wind. The king was looking for me. He knew I was alive. Somehow he knew.
Perhaps someone had seen Sivo and Perla flee all those years ago and had come forth now. I didn't know how, but he knew. It was the only thing that made sense.

“What is it?” Fowler asked. “You're shaking.”

“Nothing.” I shook my head and started walking, my pace faster.

He fell in beside me. “Did my story upset you?”

“No,” I said quickly. “I mean . . . yes.” It did upset me, but it wasn't the reason I suddenly felt scared and hunted. I tugged at my cap, hoping it was a good enough disguise to get me through to Allu.

“I just want you to understand what it's like out here.”

I knew more than he realized. “You don't ever wish for better things for yourself?”

“It's pointless. So few of us can hold on to anything really good in this world.”

“That's dismal,” I grumbled, for some reason thinking about our almost-kiss. That had felt good to me. “I don't want to think like that. I want to believe that things can be better.” I had to believe that or what was the point? I might as well turn myself over to Cullan.

“Of course you do. You're the kind of girl who gives our precious water to a person about to die.”

“Allu is hope for you, isn't it?”

“I suppose. It should be better than all this. A place without dwellers, but it's still a place without light. Still dark. You can't outrun that.”

The corners of my mouth lifted. “The dark isn't so bad. It's just the monsters that hide inside it.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. “It's easy to forget sometimes that you can't see.”

“Don't apologize. My lack of sight is my advantage. I sense more, hear more, taste more. Perhaps I feel more, too. I don't know.” I shrugged. “I suppose that's impossible to know. I don't know what you're feeling, after all.”

“Maybe you do feel more than me,” he allowed. “I'm sure you're more capable in that area than I am.”

My steps faltered as he continued on ahead. I opened my mouth, wanting to tell him that I didn't believe that of him. Not anymore.

His actions spoke loud enough for me. Everything he had done for me since we first met proved that he was someone who felt deeply. He wouldn't risk himself again and again, if he felt nothing.

I said none of this. Instead, I held silent and followed in his wake.

T
HE NEXT FEW
days passed uneventfully. The closer we approached Ortley, the denser the forest grew. Thick trees crowded around us, each one so large it looked like it belonged in a land of giants. It would take several men, arms stretched wide, to circle the width of these trees. They were tall, too, stretching up into the night-dark sky, branches tangling together and pushing out what little light crept down from the moon.

Every once in a while, we roamed slightly off course until I caught a glimpse of the moon in the sky and marked its position, steering us back in the right direction.

The terrain deepened the risk. There was no sighting of dwellers across the distance in this massive crush of trees. We strictly relied on hearing. Which meant I relied on Luna a great deal more. If a dweller came too close, I would dispatch it. Fortunately we were never surprised by more than one at a time.

I stole a glance at her. Her expression was peaceful. She moved her head as though looking around her, as though she could appreciate the wonder of these magical woods.

We whispered often, sharing bits of ourselves. I didn't fight it anymore. I answered her questions. It was easier letting myself get distracted with conversation than thinking about Anselm and Gunner and their bag of heads.

And yet thoughts of them intruded. As well as the idea of arriving at Ortley and what could happen to Luna. The possibilities settled like rocks in my stomach. There would be men like Anselm and Gunner there. There were always men like them. If they even caught a whiff that she was a girl they'd kill her. There would be other unsavory types, as well, that called themselves humans. If they realized Luna was blind—whether they knew she was a girl or not—they'd mark her as an easy target.

I was already debating hiding her in the woods and going into the village by myself. There would be too many people there. The risk of her gender being uncovered was too high. If I could bypass Ortley I would, but there wouldn't be another outpost for a long time. We needed to stop. I'd gather new supplies, including the much-lauded kelp.

“I smell water,” Luna murmured, pulling me from my
thoughts. She walked at my side. Since the orchard, she stayed close.

I glanced up at the moon through a crack in the labyrinth of branches and the sight served as confirmation.

“That would be the lake outside Ortley. We're close.” I halted her with a hand on her arm and released a heavy breath, rubbing at the back of my neck.

She lifted her face up to me. I knew she wasn't going to like what I was about to say. “Perhaps I should go into the village on my own.”

She looked stricken for a moment, and then her expression cleared into a neutral mask. “You're leaving me out here?”

“We'll find someplace safe for you to hole up—”

“Are you coming back?”

I stared at her, stunned. “You still think I would leave you?”

“You never wanted me along.”

“I'm not abandoning you,” I replied quickly.

She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging her body. “I'm sorry. I know that—I just don't want to stay out here alone.”

Almost in response, a dweller cried in the far-off distance. The sound was common enough and far enough away that it hardly even made me flinch.

“Luna, there will be soldiers there. To say nothing of mercenaries . . . desperate people who would do anything for a month's ration. If anyone realizes you're—”

“I'm going with you.” That stubborn chin of hers went up.

“Luna—”

“It's dangerous everywhere.” She held her arms out wide at her sides. “What makes you think nothing will happen to me out here?” She stepped closer and seized my hand, clasping it in both of hers. I stared down at our hands, her pale, small fingers wrapped around my bigger ones. “We need to stay together, Fowler. Don't you see that? After last time . . .” She gave my hands a squeeze. “We're stronger together.”

I gazed into her earnest face and felt my resolve crumble. “Come on then.”

She started to pull her hands from mine, but I tightened my grip around one of them and held fast. Without looking at her face again, I turned and led the way, weaving back through the woods, straining my eyes for the first glimpse of civilization in the thick press of giant trees.

They spotted us first. A soft swishing whispered on the air. I looked up. A silhouette swung across the night, vaulting from one tree to the next like some sort of tree monkey. I instantly dropped her hand.

“Something is above us,” she pointed out.

“Smart,” I murmured, watching the body deftly maneuver between trees. “It's a man. He's swinging from tree to tree.” Aside from branches, various pegs and boards of wood stuck out from the trees, giving him plenty of places to land—a well-arranged system for spying on anyone or anything on the ground.

“A man?” she echoed.

“A watch, I'm guessing. Come on. Let's follow.” If he's tasked to report interlopers, then he'd be heading back to the village now.

I lost sight of the figure as we moved deeper into the woods, and, according to Luna, closer to the smell of water. The watch was gone, but the forest felt like it had its own eyes now. Our progress was being monitored.

“Remember, you're no longer a girl,” I whispered, assuming we weren't going to be alone much longer.

We were moving uphill now. Her pace slowed. Our breaths fell a little faster and I had to resist reclaiming her hand. If we were still being watched, holding her hand might not help convince them that she was a boy.

“Fowler,” she gasped. “I can smell . . . dwellers.”

“We're close,” I called back. The gold light bleeding onto the dark horizon told me there was something just beyond the rise.

I could almost imagine the village ahead, a smaller version of Relhok City, the great walls protecting its citizens. The lookouts on the battlements would see us and lift the gate so we could take shelter within. I saw this all in my mind's eye.

Eager, I pressed on, reaching the top of the hill. A large platform appeared in the sky, built into the tops of the trees. “Whoa,” I breathed, gazing up in awe. So this was how they survived. “They live in the trees.”

Never, since I left the capital, had I seen anything like it. It was a vast village. A true city in the trees. I gazed at the underbellies of buildings and paths constructed around the elaborate network of trunks and branches.

There were a few big houses and buildings, but most were small, no more than shacks similar to the lean-tos that had been
erected on the outer edges of Relhok City. A jumble of shanties that didn't look fit to sleep a dog. It was the kind of place Bethan had lived in. Her image rose in my mind, her face an elusive smudge of features. I remembered her eyes had been blue, but knowing and remembering were two different things. I couldn't see them in my head. Not her blue eyes. Not her face.

Brown-black eyes set within a pale face swam in my mind. When I closed my eyes at night, it was Luna's face I was coming to see.

I shook off the distracting thought and continued to assess the mad jumble high above, looking for a way up. All the structures were interconnected with paths of wood planks. Light spilled from the buildings and out the cracks between the planks.

Luna choked my name again as she stopped beside me. “Dwellers,” she hissed.

I jerked my gaze back down and spotted them. They were everywhere, like hungry ants swarming beneath the trees on the forest floor, hoping for a crumb to fall.

We just had to wade through the minefield of them. And not die in the process.

“Come, hurry!” I dragged her by the hand, not caring anymore if anyone spotted me. This was life-or-death. Her slight fingers were slippery with sweat and I readjusted my grip, determined not to lose her.

We wove between the colossal trees. I had to break stride when a dweller came too close. Cursing, I released her and let an arrow fly, striking the creature directly in the face. It dropped
to its knees. Running forward, I kicked it onto its back. Lifting my gaze, I did a quick scan around us and reclaimed my arrow, pulling it free of the claylike body with a sucking sound. Using the same arrow, I took aim and let it fly again, clearing our path of another dweller.

We were surrounded. Their wet, sawing breaths crashed all around us. I kicked one square in the chest, launching it back, knocking two others down in the process.

We were under the city now, and I stole quick glances up, searching the trees, looking for a way up.

Luna stayed close. I felt her warm body beside mine as I dispatched dwellers, her shoulder aligned beside mine, never getting in the way of me reaching into my quiver for arrows.

Sometimes she would call out and warn me of one advancing at my back or side and I would answer the threat, launching another arrow. I might not hear anything over the dwellers' soggy breaths, but evidently she still did.

She was armed, too, holding her sword at the ready. I didn't want her to have to use it though—one drop of toxin off their receptors, and she would suffer. The fractured thought bounced through me that if I was quick with my arrow, the dwellers wouldn't have to get too close.

Until I didn't feel her beside me anymore.

“Luna,” I shouted, yanking arrow after arrow from behind me, shooting advancing dwellers with swift thunks. They were closing in, falling on me in an endless pour.

“Luna!” I roared, for once not caring about remaining quiet.
It seemed like every dweller in the world was converging on us anyway.

Then suddenly it felt like another time. Another place.

I had a flash of myself struggling at the cell door of my prison, gripping the bars and screaming Bethan's name until I went hoarse, until the last dwindling rays of midlight vanished. My last glimpse of anything was my father's smiling face up on the ramparts.

“Fowler!”

I shook off the memories. Luna wielded her sword, thrusting it into the pale, soft body of a dweller.

“Luna! Get behind me!”

An indignant expression crossed her face.

“Luna,” I growled. With a curse, I jumped several paces until we fought back to back. I pulled my dagger from a sheath at my waist and started stabbing into dwellers, grateful for my height. I managed to avoid the toxin dripping from the nest of receptors in their faces and stabbed them in the heads.

I was worried that Luna wouldn't be so lucky if one got too close. She was considerably shorter and didn't have the best advantage to inflict damage.

“Luna,” I called over my shoulder. “We need to move!”

“How do you suggest we do that? They're everywhere!”

I looped my left arm with hers. “Follow me.” With a yank, I pulled her after me, charging through and whacking a path with my sword.

I struck dwellers down, swerving around when I heard Luna
cry out. A dweller had closed both its hands on her arm and was lowering its face to her, toxin dripping from its feelers. She was stabbing it in the belly with her sword, but it didn't seem to care. It kept coming.

With a shout, I swung my sword and sent its head flying. Whirling around, I cut down several more dwellers, clearing a path for us to squeeze through. We were almost to the top of another rise now. The air glowed even brighter.

A giant crested the rise ahead of us. My battle cry withered in my throat. I didn't recognize it as a dweller at first.

It rose up out of the night, limned in the red-gold haze from the village in the sky. This one was unlike the rest. It looked like some freakish entity reaching close to seven feet. Even the toxic receptors on its face were thick as my wrists, like wiggling snakes, stretching for a victim. It approached us, its feet falling heavily on the damp earth.

I clamped a hand on her arm and backed up.

“Fowler?” she gasped, and I realized she must have heard its louder-than-usual tread and sensed its size.

I grabbed an arrow and shot the monster in the face. It paused with a shudder, but its great body kept lumbering toward us.

With a curse, I pulled another arrow out and let it fly. The second arrow pinged off the edge of its shoulder and seemed only to enrage it. It huffed and moved faster now—faster than I'd ever seen a dweller move before. Its pasty gray body was almost running at us.

“Fowler?” Fear laced Luna's voice.

I shoved her back behind me and readied my sword, my grip achingly tight. If this was the end, then I was going down first and I was going down fighting.

An arrow whistled past me to land at my feet. More followed, hissing through the air, raining down from the trees, striking the great body of the dweller. It made a gurgling sound and halted just a few yards away from me. Still, it didn't fall. Over a dozen arrows pierced the chalky flesh of its body and it still remained standing.

It began moving again, staggering toward me, the toxin dripping from receptors as thick as black syrup. A shouted command from above heralded another volley of arrows. This time, it dropped to the ground on one knee. I waited as other arrows continued to rain around us, finding targets in the other dwellers.

But the big one wasn't finished. With a wet rasp, it pushed back up to its feet and continued. I stepped forward and swung my sword, cutting its thick neck only halfway. Pulling back my arm, I swung again, this time slicing it clean and sending the head soaring. The giant finally fell, snapping the ends of dozens of arrows sticking out from its body.

I looked up, my chest heaving with labored breaths. Countless faces stared down at us from planks in the trees.

One man dropped onto a platform positioned at a lower level than the village floor. With a grinding crank, the wood platform started to descend.

“What is it?” The knowledge that we were still surrounded
by an army of dwellers was there, in the thread of anxiety in Luna's voice.