Shadow (5 page)

‘Great gods!’ Kira breathed. She had been slow to close her eyes and a glaring after-image of Firestorm’s fiery breath burned yellow on her retinas. ‘Everyone within
about three leagues will have seen that.
Quick, Fang! Follow Firestorm. We have to get out of here, now!’

Chapter Four

Everything hurt. Pell’s mind recoiled from the sensation, shrinking inwards in an effort to ward off the pain. It felt as though bones were broken in every area of his
body. He wondered if he should try to move. Even breathing sent sharp spikes through his chest.

Bracing himself mentally, he tried to move his arm. Red agony exploded through the tensed muscles and he groaned, the noise triggering yet more pain. It was excruciating, but despite his
foolishness he was alive. Pain could be overcome. Injuries would heal. However, time was pressing. The Oracle needed him to act quickly.

He opened his eyes. There was a ceiling above him. It looked rough and unfinished, but sound. He was in a bed. How had he come to be in a bed? The last thing he remembered was the impact of
Shadow’s talons.

‘You’re awake!’

‘Shadow?’
he croaked.

‘Mama! Mama, he’s awake!’

The voice was that of a little girl. She sounded both excited and a little frightened.

‘Shush now, Saffi. Don’t disturb ’im. He needs to rest. Run along now.’ The woman’s voice was gentle and warm, but as soon as Pell saw her, he found her body
language was at odds with her tone. The woman’s dark eyes were narrowed and her lips twisted with intense dislike. Her arms were tightly folded across her chest and her torso was half turned
away in a stance that suggested defiance. She was stout and prim, with her hair tied in a tight bun at the back of her head.

Pell caught sight of a little girl in a plain dress as she disappeared out through the door.

‘Did I do something wrong?’ he whispered.

‘I dunno,’ the woman responded immediately, her voice suddenly hard and uncaring. ‘Did you? We’ve seen your kind before. We know what you’re like.’

‘Your kind?
What do you mean?’ he asked, his mind spinning.

‘Dark riders on your black dragons-troublemakers, the lot of yous,’ she said fiercely. Her eyebrows drew together in an angry frown. ‘Well you don’t frighten me. Your
dragon dropped you on me doorstep. I saw you was hurt and I don’t turn away the needy, no matter who they be. But as soon as you can move, you’re leavin’. Understand?’

‘Yes,’ he replied softly.

He was in no fit state for a discussion, but he resolved to find out why night dragonriders had such a bad reputation here. This was not the first time he had experienced such hostility. In some
places it seemed that whenever trouble or misfortune struck, night dragons became the scapegoats.

Pell thought Shadow was a beautiful dragon, but he knew that many considered her appearance frightening. Some even felt she looked evil. He and Shadow had met two season rotations ago. Since
that time they had never caused anyone harm, yet on several occasions they had been accused of stealing livestock, or damaging property. It’s so unfair, he thought. People are so shallow.
They never look for the good in others. I’ll bet her attitude would be different if Shadow was a day dragon.

‘You want food?’ the woman asked.

‘Yes, please,’ Pell answered. Anything to speed my recovery and get me away from you, he added silently.

‘Ain’t got much, but it’ll have to serve.’

She left, closing the door firmly behind her. As soon as the door closed, Pell relaxed into the bed. He had not felt his body tense up, but the relief he felt as she left surprised him with its
intensity.

‘You’ll be well soon,’
Shadow assured him.
‘Eat. Rest. Your body heals fast. We’ll be on our way before you know it.’

‘Thanks, Shadow. And thanks for catching me. I won’t ever be able to thank you enough for that.’

Shadow didn’t respond, but he could feel her pleasure through their special bond. She would be sharing his pain, just as he shared in her delight. The bond was a curious thing. At times it
felt tenuous, like a filament of wispy smoke, nebulous and faint. At other times, though – like now – it felt strong and solid, like an iron bridge between their minds across which
thoughts and feelings flowed back and forth in a constant stream.

Although they had only been together for two rotations, it was hard to remember what it had been like before they met. Pell had never been one to enjoy close friendships with his peers. He was
too much like his father – strong, silent and solitary by nature. His mother was warmer, but with her husband out in the forest most of the time, she had been forced into the role of the
disciplinarian. Three strong boys and a wilful girl had needed a firm hand to control. Pell’s two brothers were too competitive to be close, and he did not want to be seen as weak in their
eyes for spending time with his sister. But now no one would ever think him weak, because of his close relationship with Shadow. Now he had her, he felt no need to become close to anyone else. She
was everything to him, and together they would achieve more than his siblings would ever have dreamed possible.

The woman returned with a tray and placed it on a small table next to his bed. On it there was a hunk of bread, a cup of milk and a bowl of steaming broth. Pell tried to move again, but it was
too painful. To his embarrassment, the woman grabbed him under his armpits and hauled him up into a sitting position. The movement was incredibly painful, but aside from drawing a sharp intake of
breath, he said nothing.

‘Can you manage, or does you want me to feed you?’ she asked, moving the tray to his lap.

‘I’ll be all right,’ he mumbled, adding his thanks.

She nodded. ‘I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t let Saffi bother you. I’ve told her not to come in here, but if she does sneak in then do us a favour and send her away, would
you?’

Pell nodded. So I can’t corrupt her with my dark ways, no doubt, he thought grimly, keeping his suspicions to himself. The woman’s prejudice bothered him, but he was determined to
remain civil. Rather than dwell on it, he concentrated on the tray of food. The bread was not fresh, but neither could it yet be called stale. The vegetable stew looked watery, but the steamy scent
rising from it smelled good. Pell took a bite from the bread and sipped some milk from the cup. The milk was nicely chilled and the bread reduced to a heavenly paste in his mouth.

Alternating between dunking the bread in the steaming vegetable broth and eating it with sips of milk, he slowly consumed everything on the tray. By the time he was finished he felt exhausted,
and waves of pain washed up and down his body with a cruel rhythm. As she had promised, the woman returned a short while later. She removed the empty tray and helped make him comfortable again.
Pell barely managed to mumble his thanks before sleep dragged him down into its deep dark well.

When he next surfaced, Pell felt much better. Bracing himself against the anticipated spikes of agony, he tentatively raised his right arm a few finger-widths above the blankets. It hurt, but
nothing like it had earlier. Heartened, he tested his body further, moving first one limb, then the next. Having tried them all, he eased himself up into a sitting position. As he did so, his head
spun and he teetered on the brink of passing out. The moment passed. His head cleared. He blinked a few times to clear the remnants of sleep from his eyes.

The sheets fell from his torso and he realised that he was bare to his waist. By twisting his head, Pell could just see the great lines of purple across his back. Shadow must have hit him pretty
hard to cause such vivid bruising, he realised. He had no way of telling whether he had suffered any internal injuries, but he sensed he must have been lucky.

His clothes were draped over a nearby chair. Taking care not to stand up too quickly, Pell eased himself up to his feet. With tentative, shuffling steps he crossed the short distance from the
bed to the chair. Getting his shirt over his head was a struggle, but somehow he managed it. The effort left him breathless for some time.

‘Are you all right?’
Shadow asked, her voice full of concern.

‘I’ll be fine,’
he replied
.
‘I’m going to finish dressing, see if the woman has any more food and then we’ll get out of
here.’

‘That would be wonderful, but are you sure it’s wise? I feel the pull of the Oracle’s mission, Pell, but I can also feel your pain. I’m not convinced you’re
well enough to travel yet.’

‘I’m not staying in this house one heartbeat longer than necessary, Shadow. Didn’t you hear the poison in her tone last time she spoke to me? The woman hates me. She hates
you. She hates having me here. I don’t want to give that hatred time to stew. I’d like to put some distance between us and this place by nightfall.’

‘I’ll be waiting for you outside,’
she assured him.

Tears welled in his eyes as he struggled into his flying trousers, and the weight of his jacket hung heavy on his shoulders. The most difficult challenge, however, was his boots. The combination
of bending and pulling proved too difficult. No matter how hard he tried, Pell could not get his feet into them properly. Eventually, he let out a cry of frustration, mingled with pain, that
brought his hostess running.

‘What d’you think you’re doin’?’ she asked, bustling over to the bed and sitting him upright. She knelt by his feet and pulled off the boot that was halfway onto
his right foot.

‘Getting out of your life,’ he replied. ‘Help me on with my boots and I’ll be on my way.’

‘What’s the matter with you? Gotta death wish, or somethin’? You’d have to be crazy to try’n fly, state you’re in.’

‘Crazy?’ He laughed. ‘Maybe I am, missus. But I’m going anyway. I’ve got to. I made a promise. No matter what you think of me, my word is good. Please, help me on
with my boots. There’s money in my saddlebag. I won’t see you out of pocket on my behalf, but I must leave now.’

The woman looked up at him, her dark eyes narrowed once more. This time, however, her gaze was more thoughtful than hostile. She regarded him for a few heartbeats before making up her mind.

‘Very well, young master. I’ll help you into your boots and send you on your way. But you’re not leavin’ without havin’ a bite more to eat before you go. I
insist.’

‘Thank you. That would be most kind.’

Pell was glad to accept her offer. His stomach was rumbling and the little food he had in his saddlebags was past its best. He would need to buy more supplies soon. He had a fair amount of
money, but not enough to last long. He and Shadow would need to earn more at a town or city soon, unless they were to live off the land.

Money was easy enough to come by when you had a dragon’s abilities to trade. Authorities were always happy to pay to have a dragon determine whether those accused of crimes were guilty, or
innocent. The draconic ability to search a man’s mind for the truth was renowned, if somewhat exaggerated. It saved the judiciary a huge amount of time and expense. Shadow had made several
such judgements since they had been together. She had claimed confidence in her decision each time, but Pell had some doubts about her ability to be one hundred per cent sure. Despite their special
mental link he felt certain that he could hide things from her if he wanted to, so he found himself questioning how she could determine the truth in the minds of others.

To Pell’s thinking, moving trees, or other heavy objects, was far more honest work. Shadow did not like it as much. She felt the work to be demeaning. But when funds were low, it offered a
good source of income. A dragon’s strength was greater than the combined power of several horses. Not only this, but the dragon’s intelligence meant that if you asked a dragon to move
something, it was moved to exactly where you wanted it.

With his boots on, Pell felt more stable on his feet. He followed the woman to the door, moving more easily with almost every step. The little girl, Saffi, was waiting as he stepped through into
the next room.

‘Hey, mister! Is your dragon goin’ to eat old Strumble?’

‘Now don’t start your pesterin’, Saffi. If you wants to stay, you’ll have to promise not to bother him.’

Pell looked at the little girl’s rebellious face and decided to answer, despite the mother’s admonition. ‘Strumble?’ he asked, giving her a smile. ‘I doubt it.
Shadow doesn’t need to eat as often as we do. She only ate yesterday, so we’ll be long gone before she needs to eat again. Who is old Strumble, anyway?’

The little girl’s face displayed a mixture of relief and disappointment. ‘Strumble’s our cow, mister. An evil old heffer, she is. Stamp on your foot as soon as look at you she
would. An’ she’s not light, despite her bein’ skinny.’

‘Actually I last ate two days ago, but you can assure her that the cow is safe. I wouldn’t touch that old bag of bones unless I was starving,’
Shadow told him.

‘Shadow tells me she’s not interested in eating your cow,’ Pell assured her gently. ‘She likes to hunt in the wilds. The meat is tastier.’ He looked around as if
checking to see if anyone were looking, and dropped his voice to a secretive whisper. ‘Between you and me, I think she’s a bit fussy about her food. She says she can taste the
difference, but I think she’s making it up.’