Reign of Shadows (8 page)

I glanced around at the encroaching darkness. Madoc's sounds weren't going unheard. The dwellers might not be aboveground yet, but they were waiting below, listening.

The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances. They knew the hour was fading fast and all the noise did not bode well. One dweller, even ten, they could easily dispatch, but Madoc was likely rousing dozens of drones.

I couldn't hear Henley's words from this distance. Sivo nodded once at whatever was said, his features drawn and pale, lips compressed in a flat line. When the commander finished, he turned and mounted his horse, circling his hand once in the air for the men to move out.

“They're leaving,” I announced, watching the horses retreat in practiced stealth.

Before they disappeared entirely from the glen, the commander pulled his mount around to address Sivo. He surveyed the tower as well, his gaze stretching over its walls and then back down again. He was evaluating it. It would make an excellent outpost. He or others from the capital would be back. Or others from the king would. Everything had changed. Luna and her family were no longer safe here.

I looked down at Luna, my hand closing around hers. “Come. They're gone.”

“Midlight is over,” she announced dully, almost as an afterthought.

I lifted my face up to the darkness. “So it is.”

We walked swiftly to the tower. I was still aware of her trembling beside me.

A movement to the right caught my notice, and I turned, watching as a dweller clawed itself free from the dirt, gray, talon-like fingers churning soil. Its square-like head broke the ground's surface, the receptors on its face shaking loose dirt as it tasted air.

I hurried our pace. We'd be inside before the creature could reach us.

Perla supported Madoc, guiding him to walk. Sivo lifted Dagne's body in his arms. He looked up as we approached, his shoulders slumping in obvious relief. For the first time I saw him as he perhaps was: a tired, old man. “Luna”—he breathed her name—“you're safe.”

Perla squeezed her hands together in prayer. “Heavens be praised.”

More dwellers stirred the ground behind us. I stepped forward and took over supporting Madoc. “Let's move inside.”

Perla glanced around, her eyes rounding in terror. “Yes, of course.” She ushered Luna into the tower. I followed with Madoc.

Sivo brought up the rear. He lowered Dagne's lifeless body to the ground with a grunt and then bolted the tower door behind us. “Wouldn't be right,” he muttered. “Leaving her out there for
the dwellers. I'll bury her tomorrow.”

I didn't bother pointing out that the dwellers would find her either way—buried in the ground or left above. Inhaling, I smelled the faint odor of the soldiers who had invaded this space. Leather, horse, and sweat. Those had been the smells of my childhood. At one time comforting, but now they only reminded me of pain.

Sivo's gaze connected with mine, grim and brimming with emotion. Perla's, Luna's, and Madoc's steps shuffled away, fading as they made their way up the stairs.

“They killed Dagne. They simply struck her down.”

I nodded. It was senseless. But I knew that violence in these men did not have to make sense, especially when it came from the likes of Henley.

“They found us,” he declared, looking a little dazed. “More will come.”

I inhaled a deep breath, knowing this to be true, and knowing I shouldn't care. I wasn't supposed to care. What happened to these people . . .

It changed nothing. I was leaving, and they would have to continue to survive on their own.

P
ERLA DISAPPEARED INTO
my bedchamber with Madoc. I took the bag of nisan root to the work table and began tearing the petals and dropping them into a pot of water. I was still shaking, but I had to keep moving. If I stopped I would think about what happened. I'd think about those soldiers. I'd hear that sing of blade on the air and Dagne's scream.

If I did that, I would start to cry and I wouldn't be able to stop. I should have given her more ribbons. A sob welled up in my throat. I should have done that. I should have done more.

“Luna!” I realized Sivo had been saying my name.

I nodded jerkily. “Yes. I'm fine.” I continued tearing the nisan
into bits. Satisfied that I had enough, I moved the pot to the hearth, brushing past Fowler and hooking it into place so that it could reach a proper boil. I returned to the table and began weaving the herbs onto twine for drying.

“Can you stop for a moment?” Sivo asked.

I shook my head. “We need to get this into Madoc.” Considering what had just happened, his will to fight the fever plaguing him was likely low.

“Well, you've set the pot to boil now. The rest can wait.” Sivo's heavy steps advanced on me anyway. He pulled me away from the table and into his arms. I resisted, but his arms wrapped around me. For the first time, I noticed that his biceps and forearms weren't like before. When I was younger they reminded me of tree trunks, so solid and strong. Now they were half that size. Somehow over the years they had diminished. I hated this. I hated the evidence of his age and growing frailty.

I relaxed against Sivo, conscious of Fowler in the room. I could feel his eyes on me. I imagined he thought this display of emotion weak. He wouldn't succumb like this. He was too hardened.

Madoc's sobs floated from my bedchamber and I stiffened in Sivo's arms.

“Never thought I'd be happy to have you disobey me,” he said against my hair, his bearded cheek rustling the strands. He meant me sneaking out of the tower. I tried to smile, but the curve of my lips felt brittle and pained.

I inhaled, smelling the molding stone. This place had
hemmed me in all my life, but for once, I was glad for its walls.

Not that it had saved Dagne.

I pulled back from Sivo's embrace. Fowler stood near the hearth, holding his hands out to the fire. I could smell the salt on his warming skin. I suppose he was accustomed to death.

I sucked in a deep breath, something new occurring to me.

If Fowler hadn't come, then I would have been here when those soldiers came. It could have been me instead of Dagne.

Also perhaps he wasn't as selfish as he claimed. He had led me to the nisan weed, and he had pulled me back on that hilltop when I wanted to charge into that group of men.

“It's all right, love.” Sivo's large hand patted my back. “We will be fine.”

It was with that assurance that I knew we would not be fine. The tower was no longer hidden. We were no longer hidden.

Our world had changed.

I sat near the fire, my hands folded tightly in my lap. It was the only way to keep them from shaking—or hide the fact that they shook at all. I focused on stilling all of me, listening as Madoc's cries turned to muffled sobs and then nothing at all.

Perla emerged from the room. “He's asleep. I put a sleeping draft in with the nisan tea.”

I envied him the oblivion of sleep. I thought of Dagne below, broken and lifeless near the door we never used.

Except today we had opened the door.

Perla moved beside my chair, and the earthy musk of herbs
and baked bread enveloped me. She rested her thick, chapped palm on my shoulder.

I reached up to pat her hand.

“They'll be back,” Sivo announced.

“You can't know that,” Perla objected, a sharp, defensive ring to her voice.

“They've found the tower now. They'll tell others. Either they'll be back or someone else will. And that commander . . . he recognized me.”

“What?” Perla demanded. “Did he say—”

“He couldn't place where. He must have been a very young boy when I worked in the palace, but mine isn't the easiest face to forget.” He was referring to his heavy beard. He'd always had it. According to Perla it was ginger bright. “He'll remember. Eventually.”

And when he did, he would tell the king that he had seen one of the dead king's guards. He would send soldiers back based on that alone. I could feel it all unraveling. The safe little world we had built was falling apart, stone by stone. The secret of me, my identity—it was one breath from being exposed.

Perla moved her hand from my shoulder and crossed the wood floor, sinking into a chair at the table with a rattling sigh.

Sivo continued, “They'll do what they did to Dagne to each of us—”

“Don't say that!” Emotion shook Perla's voice.

A hushed silence fell over the room, the pop and crackle of the fire the only sound. Fowler said nothing. I wondered if he
even cared. Sivo was skirting the truth of our identity, saying more about us than he ever had before in Fowler's presence. He must feel confident that Fowler would not guess. Or perhaps he simply trusted him now.

I moistened my lips, searching for an answer—a way out of this. A solution didn't present itself and I had to face the truth. There might not be one.

We lived in this tower and now those soldiers knew of its existence. They would report what they had found and when the king realized who Sivo was, they would be back.

“Luna can't stay here.” Sivo's announcement was softly worded but no less grim.

Perla didn't react at first. No one did. Then she finally snorted. The sound was part laugh, part grunt, but entirely dismissive. She did not take Sivo's words seriously. “You're being ridiculous. You want us to leave? I can't leave this place. I would not survive a day. And Luna? You want her to go out there? How long will she survive? She cannot see, Sivo! No. Our chances are much better here.”

“I've trained her well. She goes.” Sivo's voice was firm and unyielding. “And I said nothing of us going.”

My heart pounded in my suddenly too-tight chest. Words hung on my lips, but I could think of nothing to say. To leave the sanctuary of the tower and exist on the Outside was equal parts terrifying and thrilling. To leave Sivo and Perla, however? No. I could never do that.

I turned my face in the direction of Fowler. He'd made so
little sound up to this point that I could almost believe he left the room, if not for the sensation of his eyes on me.

“You want her to go out there without us?” Perla's tone left no doubt how absurd she thought that plan was.

“You said it yourself, Perla. You won't survive.”

“No! Absolutely not! She stays—”

“They'll come back. And when they do, when they discover her, they will kill her. You know that, Perla.” I'd never heard Sivo speak to her in such a way—so hard and final. Usually, he let her have her way, but not in this.

“You know what they can do,” he continued, his words heavy with the implication, with the reminder of who they were. Who
I
was.

Perla sucked in a raw breath, and I knew she was remembering, too. They were the king's men—and he had killed my parents. He was supposed to believe I perished that night, too. If he suspected otherwise . . .

They had killed Dagne. They would kill me, too. Of that, I had no doubt.

“Perhaps,” Perla allowed, stubbornness lacing her voice. “But I'm not letting her go out there by herself—”

“She won't be alone,” Sivo countered.

I suddenly found my voice. “What do you mean?” Did Sivo intend to go with me? He couldn't leave Perla here. She wouldn't be able to fend for herself without his help.

“She goes with him,” he said evenly, calmly. As though it were the obvious solution.
Him
. I didn't need to see to know he
was talking about Fowler. I even felt them looking at Fowler now. “He'll take her with him to the Isle of Allu.”

“We don't even know him,” Perla insisted.

“Perla, I'm not leaving you here. If soldiers return to the tower, then we'll make a stand together. We've lived a long life. It's our responsibility to give Luna the best chance to live hers. Don't you see? This boy coming here was meant to be.”

Perla was weeping now. “You and your signs. And how do we know he won't harm her?”

I turned in Fowler's direction, waiting for him to say something, to tell them all this back-and-forth was for nothing because he wasn't taking me anywhere. He wouldn't do something so noble. He had his own quest and it didn't involve me.

“I know he won't abandon her.” Sivo's deep burr rumbled on the air. “He lives by a code. Don't you, boy?”

Fowler still said nothing, and I wanted to retort that Fowler's code was all about self-preservation, not altruism.

“Don't you?” Sivo repeated. “You'll see she comes to no harm. And you'll see she gets to Allu. Won't you?”

I waited for his denial. Once he dissuaded Sivo of the notion that he was some manner of hero bent on saving girls, we could come up with another plan that did not involve me leaving Sivo and Perla and heading off on a quest for some fantastical place that probably did not even exist.

Finally, he spoke. Only, the words were not what I was expecting.

“You have my word.”

I
HAD NO
idea where the words came from within me. I recognized my voice. I knew I uttered the words, but they weren't mine. They couldn't belong to me.

Listening to Sivo and Perla arguing, with Luna saying so very little and looking as stunned as I felt at Sivo's suggestion that she depart with me—his logic had begun to sink in.

Those soldiers would come back, and next time, she would be here. It couldn't be assumed they wouldn't harm her. Not after seeing what had happened to Dagne. They had an affinity for killing.

And yet doubts assailed me. I had committed to taking
a blind girl with me to Allu. Aside from the fact that no one around me ever lived for long, it was madness, no matter how adept she was at handling herself. I didn't want to take a girl
with
sight, much less one without.

The thought crossed my mind long after Perla took Luna to pack for the journey—I could slip away without a word. While they slept, I could simply leave. Skulk away like a thief in the night. A bitter taste coated my mouth at the cowardly image.

I lifted my mug to my lips, taking a long swig of the hot tea that Sivo had prepared after Perla and Luna left the room.

Sivo's voice wove over the room. “You know I can only let her go because I trust you.”

In a flash of clarity I realized that's why I agreed. My throat tightened and I drank again, trying to loosen my windpipe. This man looked at me as though I was an honorable person. Someone to be trusted. It had been a long time since anyone looked at me that way. I didn't like it. I didn't want it.

I sent him a glance and then looked away, his stare too penetrating.

“There's something in you,” he said.

I shifted uncomfortably, feeling the old man's gaze. I didn't know what he could see in me except failure. That's all I was, something broken.

I took another drink, calling myself every kind of fool. Luna was not my second chance.

I faced him. “I thought you were letting her go because you don't have any other choice.”

He gazed at me long and hard. Luna's and Perla's voices carried from the bedchamber. He turned in the direction of that room, and I studied his profile as he listened to them. Orange firelight flickered over his face, doing little to soften the craggy features.

He dipped his chin and closed his eyes for a long moment, as though he were absorbing the sound, taking it inside himself and imprinting it into memory. “There is that, too,” he acknowledged.

I leaned forward, draping my arms loosely on my knees. “Staying here . . . you will die.”

It had to be said. There was no “if” about it. No doubt. The tower was no longer a secret. Luna wasn't the only one in danger. Once the soldiers reported to the king and he decided what to do—they would return. And Sivo, Perla, and Madoc wouldn't be spared. At best, they would be turned out. At worst, they'd be dealt with in the same manner as Dagne.

“I know.”

“Then why stay?” My voice took on an edge.

“Because Perla can't survive out there. And there's the boy now, too. He's not fit to travel.” Sivo ran a hand down the length of his beard, fingers delving into the pepper-dusted ginger strands. “You've given me your word. You're strong. You know how to survive on the Outside. Luna's smart. She might lack sight but she makes up for it in other areas. She might even be of help to you.”

“I can believe that.”

“She's special, Fowler.” It was the first time he said my name. His gaze captured mine and held.

I nodded, flexing my hands around my mug.

“No,” he bit out, leaning forward in his chair. “You think you understand me, that it's the love of a father talking, but I mean it. She's different. A day may come . . .” His voice faded and I could tell he warred with himself about whether he wanted to say something more.

Shaking his head, he dropped back in his chair, turning his attention to the nest of flames in the hearth. He looked almost mesmerized by the dance of fire as he uttered, “Time will reveal all.”

I followed his gaze to the flames, wondering what he saw there that I did not.

His earlier admission that he worked in the palace surprised me. I would have inquired more about that, but I didn't need him asking me his own set of questions.

“The darkness cannot last,” he added. “Light will come again.”

I stifled my grunt. In my experience, it was the believers who usually ended up dead.

“I don't hold out much hope for that.”

“Hope is all there is. All we have. And love. Or what's the point of any of it?” He was looking toward the bedchamber where Perla and Luna had disappeared.

I inhaled, the breath lifting my chest, thinking how those two things were the most dangerous of all. Even more dangerous
than the king's men. Even more deadly than hungry dwellers outside. I had never been my weakest as when I allowed love and hope into my heart.

I would never do so again.