Reign of Shadows (19 page)

I
LEFT
O
RTLEY
at midlight, putting as much distance as I could between myself and the village and the herd of dwellers that lurked beneath ground, waiting for the coming dark.

I ran the full hour, my heart pounding in rhythm with the steady beat of my boots. I stopped when the woods quieted and the air thickened with the impending end of midlight, climbing a tree to crouch on a sturdy branch. There, I sat, awaiting the darkness.

It was impossible to keep my thoughts from straying to him. I thought about how I left Fowler nestled deep in a fur blanket, snoring softly, his warm body smelling of peat smoke and leather
and Mirelya's herb tea. I hoped he found others. People he could trust to join him on his journey to Allu. I didn't want him to be alone, to feel the way I did right now.

I'd kissed his slightly parted lips a final time, tracing them lightly and memorizing their texture before departing the room, knowing he wouldn't stop me. He'd have to wake up to do that and there was no chance of that happening. Not with the sleeping draft Mirelya had given me to slip him.

I knew I should be thinking about what loomed ahead for me. My mission to Relhok . . . how I was going to get inside the capital to speak with Cullan and make certain he knew he had me so that he could stop the mass killing

Except Fowler filled my mind and heart. When he woke, would he understand or hate me for leaving like that? Hating me would be easier. Kinder, I supposed. He would be able to forget and move on if his feelings could be reduced to hatred. A lump rose up in my throat.

I lifted my chin against the weight of night. It was different alone on the Outside. Scarier, if I allowed myself the luxury of fear. Purpose fueled me though, blocking out fear-inducing paralysis.

Without so much of my attention on Fowler, every scent flooded my nose. Sounds rang sharper in my ears. It felt as though I were submerged underwater, every noise thundering against a backdrop of swooshing silence.

I shifted until my body was balanced, then leaned back against the trunk and waited, listening for dwellers as they emerged,
making certain none were too close. Leaves rustled in the distance, ground breaking with plops as the soil broke and turned over.

A dweller groaned several yards away, and I held my breath, waiting as it pulled free and rose to its feet. It passed beneath me, its heavy tread dragging through topsoil and rotting leaves. I counted the moments until I could no longer hear the whisper of its sloughing breath.

I climbed down and continued, no longer running, but walking hastily, listening and altering my direction based on the cries of dwellers.

A new sound emerged. A faint scrabbling, like the scratching of nails against wood coupled with a low, mewling whimper. It was no dweller. They never cried liked this. The whimpers grew more pronounced. Whatever it was, it was in trouble. My boots turned in its direction, curious enough to investigate. I palmed my dagger, although the plaintive whimpers told me that the creature wasn't in a position to attack.

I knew the minute it spotted me. The whimpers turned to low growls. I paused, recognizing the growls of a tree wolf. The instinct to run surged inside me, but then I realized it couldn't hurt me. If the vicious beast were able, it would have sliced me to ribbons with its razor-sharp claws or buried its fangs deep in my flesh.

The wolf's body thrashed, trapped somehow. I inched closer and the growls intensified, broken with an occasional warning yip for me to keep my distance. From the pitch of those yips I could tell it was not yet full grown.

“What's the matter?” I whispered, holding out my hand,
wincing when my palms came into contact with a thick hedge of thorns. I stretched my arms above my head and then far at my sides, assessing how tall and wide the hedge extended.

The tree wolf snarled and jerked inside its prison of thorns, but that only made it cry out more sharply. A dweller's eerie shriek stretched out across the distance and wrapped around me. I took a step to flee, but stopped at the tree wolf's whimper.

He was a waiting meal. Easy pickings for dwellers. I didn't know why, but I decided the wolf was a he. A dweller would make short work of him. That fact struck me as an injustice. Tree wolves had survived this long because of their ability to climb, their strength and hunting prowess.

I took another step, my fingers tightening around the strap of my pack, and it almost seemed like the tree wolf whimpered even louder, pleading for me to help him.

“Very well,” I grumbled. “I'll just cut some of the thorns away.” I squatted before the trapped creature, careful not to get too close. Using my dagger, I started snapping thorny branches. “I'll just give you enough room to move.” I sawed at a particularly thick vine. “Just don't kill me. If you could extend that courtesy, I would appreciate it.”

He had enough room now to move his paws. He started scratching at the ground furiously, clearly attempting to aid in his own escape and dig free. I cut loose another vine and pressed my blade to another, pausing with a long exhale before snapping it free. “Just promise not to maul me. Would you do that for me, Digger, hmm?”

I jerked at the unnerving shriek behind me. The dweller was closer than I anticipated. My fingers fumbled on a branch as another cry floated on the wind. My dagger dropped. With a curse, I patted the ground, searching for it, my movements growing frantic as the dweller's solid tread shuffled closer.

Digger growled, the sound deep and menacing. It was coming. The wolf could see it, and I could smell its earthy musk.

I whirled around, forgetting about my dagger and withdrawing my sword. Only one advanced. I should be able to dispatch it quickly. Being with Fowler hadn't made me that reliant. I wasn't weak. Sivo's lessons weren't forgotten.

I braced my legs, and adjusted my hand on the leather-bound grip, ready to swing high when a great furred body launched over my shoulder in a rush of wind. The tip of the tree wolf's long tail trailed behind it, swiping at my cheek as he passed.

The wolf was free. The dweller screamed as the wolf's razor claws buried in its chest and brought it to the ground. My sword lowered as the beast mauled the dweller. Blood sprayed everywhere, the scent thick, the taste of metal in my mouth.

I backed away slowly, trying not to call too much attention to myself. The snarls faded to low rumbles, and there was a heavy thud as the wolf released the dweller, dropping it to the ground.

“Easy, good boy,” I whispered, feeling the animal's stare on me. Its paws padded toward me on the soft soil. “We're friends, remember?”

I held myself utterly still, not daring to breathe, trying to project absolute calm. “I helped you.” My voice cracked a little
and I swallowed. “You helped me. Let's just go our separate ways.”

The tree wolf stopped directly in front of me, panting heavily. His head almost reached my waist, confirming he was still young. A full-grown tree wolf could weigh a few hundred pounds, but this one was perhaps half that size.

The fog of his blood-soaked breath filled the space between us, reminding me that for all his youth, he was still dangerous. The dweller's nearby corpse served as a reminder, too.

His entire body radiated heat. Beneath the coppery-sweet scent of blood, the pungent aroma of his fur made my nostrils twitch.

I exhaled as time slowed to a crawl. My nerves stretched taut as this beast panted in front of me. His tail swished against the ground lightly. Sivo had described their unusual tails to me before. They were strong and wiry, but also long, curling into a loop. The tails unfurled when needed, gripping branches and helping them maneuver through trees.

I shifted on my feet and Digger huffed, not missing the movement. “What do you want?” I tried to sound like I wasn't worried he was about to devour me.

He continued to pant, his tongue darting out to lick his lips wetly. Angling my head, I considered why he wasn't attacking me. It couldn't matter to a wild animal that I had helped him. Could it?

Deciding to find out, I lifted my hand toward him, pausing at his soft growl of warning. Dropping my hand back to my side, I sighed. “So we're not friends? Then what are you still doing here?”

A pair of dwellers shrieked, calling to each other, the volley of shrill screams bouncing off the forest.

Digger shifted, a low rumble swelling up from deep in him.

“See,” I said. “They're coming. Time to go.”

I stepped to the side and my boot struck something hard, sent it sliding over the ground. Bending slowly, I recovered my dagger. I stuck it back in my belt and started to edge away. Tension knotted my shoulders, and I half expected the wolf to pounce on me, but I had to risk it. I couldn't stay here.

He must have reached the same conclusion. As though he had no interest in me anymore, he turned with a soft whine and loped away, leaving me unharmed. Air shuddered past my lips, but I didn't linger.

Turning, I moved out. Alone again.

I nestled deeper into the fur, my fingers delving into the toasty-warm blanket. Insects hummed around me. A bug whizzed past my head, large enough to create a breeze. I didn't even flinch, simply burrowed deeper. The languor of sleep clung to me, clouding my head and tempting me back under.

I sighed, a smile curving my lips. With one hand, I searched for Fowler, chilled fingers seeking the firmness of his skin, the hard curve and dip of muscle and sinew, all that life and vitality that was supremely him. But there was only a pelt of fur, which moved, lifting with rhythmic breaths under my seeking touch.

My heart lurched in my chest as the reality of where I
was—where I wasn't—crashed over me. Not in Mirelya's warm cottage. Not beside Fowler.

I was Outside. Up a tree. And when I last closed my eyes I had been alone.

I jolted upright. A low growl rumbled loose from the great ball of fur beside me, strangely almost like a whine. Clearly, the beast did not approve of my movements.

I jerked back, quickly losing my balance. The belt yanked hard at my waist, the only thing that stopped me from plummeting to solid ground. I dangled in the air for a moment, arms flailing, my stomach screaming in protest from the belt digging into my middle.

The wolf shifted his weight, branches and leaves rustling as he settled in to observe my antics. I waited for a moment, debating whether to cut my belt and risk the drop, or climb back up and share the branch with a vicious animal.

The branch shook for a moment as he scratched himself.

“You're not going to kill me, are you?” I murmured.

His paw dropped back on the branch with a soft thud. His panting breath filled the silence between us, his only response.

My hands gripped the strap of leather as though it was a lifeline. Arms straining, I used the belt, pulling myself up hand over hand. With clawing fingers, I hauled my weight onto the branch, pushing all the way up until I was sitting astride it.

Gasping for breath, I untied my belt and squared my body in front of him, resting my back against the thick tree trunk. I pulled my legs up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my
knees, marveling that this wild animal would come this close and not want to eat me.

With the barest whimper, he scooted forward until he rested his muzzle on the top of my boots. His tail swished with a scratching sound against the rough tree bark.

“Digger,” I breathed, reaching out slowly, touching the downy soft hairs on top of his nose. “Good boy.”

Stretching out my arm, I delved farther and stroked his thick coat, marveling that he permitted me to do this. “We're friends now, boy.” An invisible band constricted around my chest. “I could use a friend.” My throat thickened and I blinked back the sudden burn in my eyes.

Suddenly, I didn't feel quite so alone.

I
T WAS MIDLIGHT
when I woke.

I sat up with a lurch. To wake to any light at all was a wholly unknown experience. Sleeping so deeply and peacefully through the long stretch of dark that I missed the coming of midlight had never occurred before. That only happened to dead men.

Usually I was awaiting it, ready to seize the opportunity to be up and moving without the threat of dwellers. I had planned on being far from this place with Luna by now.

I dragged a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the vestiges of sleep. A quick glance around the room revealed it empty of Luna. I frowned, missing her, wanting to see her and
kiss her again. Hold her. I sat up and swung my legs over the side. I doubted that would ever get old.

I moved to the small window, lifting the cover, attempting to estimate how much of midlight had passed. I rubbed at my eyes with the heel of my palm, staring out at the busy town. People moved on foot and carts passed, carrying kindling and other goods.

With a curse, I turned from the window. The day was lost. I couldn't leave with Luna now. I pressed a palm to my aching forehead. The fog of sleep stuck to me like clinging cobwebs. I wasn't right. Perhaps an additional day was for the best.

Luna's indentation could still be seen within the bedding. I smoothed a hand over it. Any warmth from her body had long faded. She knew we were supposed to leave today. Why didn't she wake me?

Faint sounds drifted from the front room. I pulled my tunic over my head and stepped out.

“Oh, finally decided to join the world, have you?”

I shook my head. Everything seemed blurrier, the edges of my vision shadowy. I pressed a hand against my temple. “Yes,” I replied. “I suppose I needed the rest.” I'd been operating on a paltry amount of sleep over the years. Perhaps my body had finally decided to claim what it needed.

Mirelya smirked, her milky eyes considering me. “Or it might have something to do with the sleeping draft the girl slipped into you.”

My head snapped up, a sick feeling starting in my gut as I
narrowed my gaze on her. “What?”

“You recall the drinks she fetched you both in the middle of the night?”

I did. She'd complained of thirst. When I offered to fetch them, she had insisted she could get them, and I let her go. I didn't want to treat her like an invalid. After everything we had been through together that would have been insulting.

“Yes . . . why?” I pressed fingers to my aching forehead.

Mirelya shrugged. “She asked for my help.”

I lowered my hand. “So . . . you did something to my drink?”

“She has a right to make her own choices.”

“You did something to my drink,” I bit out.

“You weren't allowing her to make her own choices.”

I stared at the old woman, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “Where is she?”

“She left last midlight. You were dead to the world. I put a sleeping draft in it.”

I glanced toward the feeble light trickling around the edges of the window coverings. My stomach churned sickly. She had been gone for some time now. She had a good head start on me. A full day.

I strode back into my room, making quick work of dressing and gathering up my things, checking all my weapons and making certain they were in working order.

There was no question in my mind. I was going after her. I was going to find her long before she ever reached the king. I would tell her everything. I would make her understand
that turning herself over to him would make no difference. It wouldn't help. He would not even lift the kill order once he had Luna in his clutches because that's what kind of twisted man he was. He'd keep the kill order in place just to be certain that the late king's heir was in fact dead. On the off chance Luna wasn't who she claimed.

Whatever it took, whatever words I had to say, I would make her understand that she didn't have to do this. That we could be together in Allu. We would.

“Let her go,” Mirelya murmured as though she could read my thoughts. Maybe the old woman could.

I shook my head. “Never.”

“She's trying to do the right thing. Let her go.”

Swinging my pack over my shoulder, I passed her and headed for the door, calling back, “She can try all she likes to do the right thing. But so will I.”