Reign of Shadows
“Her timing could be improved,” Fowler panted.
I nodded shakily, pushing tendrils of hair back from my face as I sat up.
His hand cupped my cheek, thumb grazing my skin in small circles. I covered his hand with my own, clinging to him, turning my face to kiss his palm. I needed him. I needed to make this night everything because it was all I would ever have. Even if I survived what the future held, I wouldn’t have Fowler again. He’d be at Allu.
That thought fired through me as I took Fowler’s face in both hands, savoring the texture of his skin, the cut of his jaw, the flexing of his cheek muscles beneath my exploring fingers.
When I was a little girl I used to dream my parents were alive. There was no black eclipse. No evil royal chancellor who killed my parents and seized power. The sun still lived. It didn’t hide behind the moon. It arrived every day. Crops grew. People were happy. Safe. No one was hungry. No one suffered in the dark. And I could see. When I dreamed of what I thought perfection could be, it was this.
But that wasn’t perfection. Not even close. Because it wasn’t real.
This was.
“We’re fine, Mirelya,” I called out. “Good night.”
She grunted a response and the thunk of her cane faded across the outside room.
I lowered my head and kissed Fowler again, each kiss slower, longer, imprinting onto the darkness of my mind. His hands roamed over me, slipping under my tunic to trail over my back, his callused palms skimming the line of my spine.
“You’re trembling,” he murmured when I paused, lifting my head. “Are you still frightened?”
Today had been perhaps the closest I’d come to death. But that wasn’t what he meant. He meant this. Us.
I ran my hand through his hair, marveling that it could feel like silk after all the abuse of this world. “The last thing I feel right now is fear.” In this moment, in his arms, there was only joy. An end to the loneliness I had felt for so many years.
“I feel it, too,” he admitted softly, his lips moving on mine as he spoke, so gentle that it broke something loose inside of me. “I’m afraid.”
“Why are you afraid?” In my mind, nothing ever scared him.
“Because you make me feel, Luna.” His hoarse voice was almost unrecognizable. “I haven’t felt anything in a long time. That’s the way I wanted it. I convinced myself it was enough. But you make me want more again. What happened today . . . what could still happen, it terrifies me.” I felt his tremble pass through him and bleed into me.
“Shhh.” I kissed him. “Not now. I don’t want to speak of anything bad right now. Tomorrow is soon enough.”
“I just want to get you out of here.”
“Fowler, you aren’t responsible for my life.” I needed him to know that. “People live and die. People you care about. You can’t bear that burden.” I let that hang between us, hoping it sank in and he remembered it later when I was gone. I knew he’d loved and lost before. I didn’t want him to hurt again like that. Not because of me. “We can’t stop loving and caring about others just because it hurts when we lose them.”
“I’m not losing you.” His hands held my face, his grip all at once tender and fierce.
His words tore through my chest. The boy who had started this journey with me wasn’t the same one before me now. Somehow along the way he had changed from a hardened warrior who treated me only to terse words. He cared about me. He wanted to be with me now and not because Sivo had forced me on him.
“Close your eyes and kiss me,” I whispered, realizing that he wasn’t the only one who had changed. I was different now, too. I lifted a hand to his face, stroked the hard line of his jaw, reveling in the light rasp of his beard and the brush of his mouth on mine. “Pretend we’re already there.”
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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I LEFT ORTLEY 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 awoke, 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 ink of night. It was different alone on the Outside. Scarier, if I allowed myself the luxury of fear. Purpose fueled me, 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 was submerged underwater, every noise thundering against a backdrop of swooshing silence.
I shifted until my weight 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. I didn’t know why, but I decided the wolf was a he. The 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, hm?”
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. 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.
“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 couple 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 lifted a paw and scratched at one ear.
“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 were 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 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.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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IT 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. 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.