Slight and Shadow (Fate's Forsaken: Book Two) (33 page)

Kael swung a sword at the man’s face, screaming at the top of his lungs. He heard a satisfying shriek as the blade struck true. He lunged to finish him off, but strong hands held him back — a dozen of them, their fingers clamped around his arms and jerked the sword from his grasp.

Kael screamed. He screamed at the man he’d wounded, screamed until he could taste blood at the back of his throat: “I’m going to kill you! I’m going to kill you! I’m going to —!”

“Get out of my head!”

Kael’s body flew against the wall, jerking him back into reality.

All of the wind fled his lungs. He heard the furious steps pounding towards him and he tried to run, but he wasn’t fast enough. Declan fell upon him, wrapping an arm around his neck in a choking embrace.

“Get out of my head!” he said again, and Kael realized this wasn’t Declan’s voice at all — but a mad voice, a monstrous voice.

Kael’s back thumped hard into the stall floor. Declan pinned him down with one knee. Thick veins bulged from his throat as he roared. His eyes were no longer gray, but a pointed black — like twin pits carved from the belly of the earth.

“Get out of my head!” Declan screamed. “Get out of my head!”

His hand was clamped so tightly around Kael’s throat that he thought he could actually hear his bones bending backwards. He knew if he didn’t do something quickly, he’d be crushed.

“Declan! What in all clods are you doing?”

Kael heard Brend’s voice and cried for help. When Brend didn’t respond, he began to thrash against Declan’s hold, kicking his shins and pounding his fists into the tops of his bulging arms.

“Don’t struggle, it’ll only make it worse!”

“Then what am I supposed to —?”

But the second the air left his throat, Declan’s hand crushed down tighter. Brend darted by and wrapped his arms around his middle. He heaved until his face turned red, but there was no moving him: Declan’s eyes burned black as he watched the life slip from Kael’s face.

The light in the stall began to fade. Darkness crept in. Kael raked through his memories and came across a mad thought, one last, desperate hope. He pressed his thumb into Declan’s wrist and did what he’d done to Thelred — letting his memories of sleep slide into him.

Slowly, Declan’s frightening eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed — landing squarely on top of Kael.

“What did you do?” Brend stood over them, pawing frantically at Declan. “You better not have killed him, you horrible little rat —!”

“I didn’t!” he gasped, as Brend rolled Declan away. “I just knocked him out —”

“Well, you better not have killed him,” Brend went on. He stuck his fingers against Declan’s neck, feeling for a pulse. After a moment, he looked relieved. “You shouldn’t have let him get so angry. He can’t help it, you know.”

“Can’t help
what
?” Kael bellowed. He was still shaking. He’d thought for sure that Declan was going to kill him — no, not Declan: some black-eyed, screaming monster.

Brend’s mouth sunk into a hardened line. “Declan’s a berserker — but he can’t help it, I tell you. His grandpa had it too.”

“What in Kingdom’s name is a berserker?”

“You know, one of the battle-mad.” When Kael still looked confused, Brend sighed impatiently. “If Declan gets mad enough, he’ll go berserk. His eyes’ll go black, his strength will swell, and he won’t know a thing he’s done until he comes to. It’s useful in battle, but dangerous if it gets out of hand. It’s not common,” he added, when he saw the worried look on Kael’s face. “Declan is the only one of us who’s got it.”

Kael’s head was spinning. He grasped at his sore throat and turned his neck to the side. That’s when he realized that they weren’t alone. Declan’s screaming must’ve alerted the others: now the stall was completely packed full of curious giants.

“It’s a shame, really,” Brend went on. He grunted as he grabbed Declan under the arms and began dragging him towards his pallet. “All he ever wanted was to be the general — to follow in the steps of his father, Callan. And he
did
have a great mind for war. But the minute the battle struck him, he’d go berserk.” He arranged Declan on his pallet gently, shaking his head. “A giant can’t lead a host to war if he’s too mad to give orders.”

Kael knew the sort of madness Brend spoke about. It was the same thing that happened to him whenever he smelled a mage’s blood. He couldn’t help but think how miserable it must’ve been for Declan to go mad anytime he got angry. Kael was angry so often that he thought he might always be berserk, if he had it.

His throat still throbbed miserably, but he found he couldn’t blame Declan for what he’d done.

“What’d you do to get him so fussed?” Brend sat cross-legged on his pallet, and his were not the only searching eyes on Kael.

He thought quickly about what he’d just seen, trying to find someway to explain it without giving himself away. “I … I asked about his brother.”

He jumped when the giants let out a collective gasp.

“Oh, no,” Brend said, shaking his hands out in front of him — as if he might be able to stop Kael from doing it a second time. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that, wee rodent. No one asks about Dante. We don’t even say his name.”

“Why not?”

“He was Declan’s wee baby brother,” one of the giants hissed.

Several of them glanced at Declan, who was still fast asleep. The sorrow on their faces twisted Kael’s stomach into a horrible knot. “What happened to Dante?”

Brend snorted and rolled his eyes, but a curious scarlet had begun to spread across his forehead. “Surely even the mountain rats have heard about how Titus forged the Five’s armies.”

Kael knew very well what Titus had done: he’d laid siege to nearly every village in the Kingdom, setting friend and kin against each other. Those who were willing to kill earned a place in the Five’s armies, but were scorned as bloodtraitors by their people.

In a single act, Titus had set the whole Kingdom against itself — down to the last family.

“When the mages attacked us,” Brend began, “our mothers and fathers met them bravely. But they were no match for the mages’ spells. They were hunted down, burned to ash, every last one destroyed …” He cleared his throat roughly. “It was Declan who rallied the children and gathered us at the Scepter Stone. It was the one place we thought no harm could reach us … but we were wrong.”

By this point, red singed Brend’s face to the tops of his ears. Even the veins in his eyes looked bloodshot. “Titus tore our sisters away from us, and his army locked them inside the castle. Then he lined the boys up around the Scepter Stone. He gave every other one of us a sword, and the ones with swords were ordered to kill the giant on his right. I stood to Declan’s right.” Brend smiled hard. “I begged him to kill me quickly and be done with it — for Titus promised a mightily gruesome end to any boy who turned against him. But that stubborn clod wouldn’t do it. Instead, he threw down his sword, stepped straight up to Titus, and what did he say, lads?”

“
My blood for their freedom
,” the giants murmured. Every one of their faces was as red as Brend’s. The chilling look in their eyes made Kael’s hair stand on end.

“What happened?” he said hoarsely.

“You know what happened.” Brend’s voice was hardly a whisper. “There were cowards in every clan — spineless clods who would’ve split a thousand hides to save their own. I won’t tell you exactly how it happened, because it’s not my story to tell. But I
will
tell you this: Dante was among those slain … and believe you me, it’s best if you never say his name again.”

Chapter 30

The Razor’s Edge

At long last, Jake’s wound healed enough that he was allowed to leave the hospital and walk around on his own. He showed up at Nadine’s door just as they were about to eat dinner. A smile peeked out of his bushy beard — which had grown so long that it stretched almost to his chest.

“It’s about time you returned, shaman.” Silas was trying his best to look indifferent, but Kyleigh noticed that the edge of his smirk was not quite as sharp as usual. The haughty glow in his eyes was almost forced.

Jake paused in the doorway. “Yes, well, now that I’ve finally been allowed out, I thought I might stop by and see you all. Also, I mean to shave.” He held up the objects in his hands: a pair of goat shears, a bucket of mud, and a rather serious-looking razor. “I thought it might be best to be among friends … you know, to help staunch the bleeding.”

“We’ll have cloths at the ready,” Kyleigh promised.

Nadine led Jake over to the window and got him settled on one of her stools. It was so short that his knees came almost to his chest, and he had a difficult time deciding where to keep his elbows. Though he looked about as comfortable as a crow perched on the back of a spoon, he got to work immediately — clipping off his beard in thick, hairy strips.

As the beard shortened, Kyleigh thought she might actually be able to smell the happiness rising from Jake: it filled the whole room with a scent like cool wind across the seas, lightening all of their hearts. Nadine chatted with Silas, asking him all sorts of questions. But he didn’t seem to mind — in fact, it looked as if he was rather enjoying the attention. And Kyleigh leaned back against the wall, content to listen to the happy sounds of her companions.

For a moment, things were very nearly perfect. Then Elena showed up and flooded the room with her particular, spicy scent.

Silas groaned when he saw her. “No — go away.”

Nadine swatted him with the back of her hand, and jabbed at him threateningly with her finger when he started to argue. Then she offered Elena a bowl of their dinner. “It is rice and dried fruit. I have mixed in a bit of goat cheese to temper the heat,” she added, when Elena looked hesitant.

Kyleigh thought it might’ve been about the spice rice at first, but Elena wasn’t even looking at the bowl: she was looking at Jake.

He happened to glance up and caught sight of her. His spectacles slid down his nose as he bent to gather his things. “I can leave —”

“No, you’re going to stay put,” Kyleigh said firmly. “As long as you insist on running around with sharp objects, I’m not going to let you out of my sight. Elena can stay and eat with the rest of us, or she can go sulk in the darkness.”

And to her great surprise, Elena chose to stay.

They sat in a circle and chatted while they ate. The mots didn’t use knives or forks, but ate their meals with their fingers. Jake couldn’t talk and eat at the same time, and wound up getting most of the rice lodged in his half-trimmed beard. Silas, on the other hand, preferred to stick his face into the bowl as far as it would fit.

He gobbled up its contents and licked the bowl clean. Afterwards, he spent some minutes cleaning the debris from his face and hair with very cat-like swathes from the back of his hand — mumbling contented gibberish to himself as he worked.

Kyleigh had learned how to eat without spilling by watching Nadine. She expected Elena to fumble a bit, but she ate as if she’d eaten with her hands her entire life. Not so much as a grain of rice missed her lips. She said very little and kept her gaze on the wall, but Kyleigh felt as if she watched them all from the corners of her dark eyes.

Even after dinner was finished, Elena didn’t leave. She sat quietly by herself in a corner of the room, polishing the glint back into her daggers. Kyleigh didn’t want to leave her alone with Jake, but the sun was almost gone.

“We should probably head to your post,” Kyleigh said to Nadine. “We don’t want to give the Grandmot an excuse to salt your rice fields.”

Nadine smiled. “I have no post tonight, outlander. These next days I will spend resting and tending to my armor, for my company is about to be called to take our turn in the tunnels. We are planning another attack on the trolls.”

Kyleigh sank back to her knees. She hadn’t been planning to stay this long. Their work in the motlands was finished: they’d restored all of Nadine’s fortunes. She had enough rice to feed herself and, thanks to Silas, almost more goats than her little paddock would hold.

Now that Jake was finally healed, Kyleigh had been hoping to leave soon — tomorrow, even, if Jake felt up to it. But the thought of Nadine going back into the tunnels made her hesitate.

“They aren’t going to force you to ring the bell again, are they?”

Nadine shrugged. “The Grandmot will cast the runes tonight, and the one whose name appears will be our sacrifice. If it is me, then that is well.” She gripped Kyleigh’s shoulder, and her smile was firm. “I promise you, I am right with Death.”

When the last edge of the sun hovered over the mountains, it filled the whole valley with a warm, golden glow. Nadine gathered them at the window and drew back the curtain. They watched in silence as the Grandmot entered the speaking circle.

Hessa followed along beside her, and it made Kyleigh’s stomach twist to see how the Grandmot’s fingers twined around her little hand. For some reason, all she could think about was a spider — with all of its legs wrapped tightly around its prey, its pinchers waiting to begin the feed.

Kyleigh squinted, watching the Grandmot’s sly eyes closely as she began to speak.

Her strange words echoed all around the valley; the bangles on her arms clattered together as she swooped them about. At long last, she drew the runes from a pouch at her belt. They rattled around in her fists for a moment. The valley was so quiet that they could actually hear the soft
clink
as the runes struck the ground. Then there was a long, weighty pause.

When the Grandmot spoke again, Kyleigh only understood one word, spoken like a bark at the end:

“Nadine!”

“Hmm, how surprising,” Silas murmured.

Nadine stuck her chin out at him. “If that is Fate’s choice —”

“It’s not
Fate’s choice
,” Elena said, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “It’s the Grandmot’s choice. She wants you dead, and she has the power to order it done. I’ve seen this sort of thing before.” Her dark eyes roved to look out the window. “I wish you’d let me stick a knife in her.”

“No knives,” Nadine said vehemently.

“How about claws?” Silas interjected.

She jabbed a finger at him. “No. There will be no killing of the Grandmot. I know what you all are thinking.” Nadine’s eyes shined furiously as she swept her gaze around them. “And even if you are right, there is still this: our guiding mother was given her powers for a reason — for a purpose. However she chooses to use them, there is a purpose behind it. If my name is called one hundred times, it is for a purpose. You came to me for a purpose,” she said quietly, and her eyes softened. “We are strange friends, but we have kept each other warm. And after so many months of darkness … I feel you have given me light again. I feel I have found a new purpose, hidden in the strangest of places.”

They fell silent. Not even Silas could think of anything to grumble back. Kyleigh thought she could feel the gratitude swelling inside Nadine’s heart. It rose to overtake her, washing her in a warm, gentle tide.

She wasn’t used to a human being so open with her emotions, and the sheer depth surprised her. She was struggling to think of something she might say in return when a soft noise drew their eyes back to the window.

Hessa had collapsed at the Grandmot’s feet. She grasped at the hem of her black robe and brought it to her lips. Horrible, gut-wrenching sobs cut between her pleading gasps. Kyleigh felt her sorrow in the deepest corner of her heart.

“I could never do that,” Elena said softly. Her eyes were wide, her face tinged with something between awe and fear. “I could never …
beg
.”

When the Grandmot couldn’t untangle herself from Hessa’s grasp, she summoned the guards. Two women stepped forward and grabbed Hessa around the arms. As they dragged her away, the Grandmot turned back. Her eyes scanned the hived houses above her, stopping when they lighted on Nadine’s.

Her feathers trembled as she raised her chin at Kyleigh. Her hand reached down to grasp Harbinger’s hilt. He let out a woeful moan, calling for her.

Kyleigh’s heart lunged after him. She grasped the edge of the window and had to use all of her strength to keep herself from leaping out. She spun away before the Grandmot could see her snarl.

“You’d leave that little girl without a mother?” Elena whispered. Her eyes were deadly calm as they lighted on Nadine. “What
purpose
can there be in that?”

Nadine said nothing. She stared down at Hessa, and her face twisted in an anguished knot as the guards dragged her away. The little girl hung limply in their arms for a moment, and Kyleigh thought she might’ve passed out. But then her eyes suddenly snapped open — and she broke free.

She charged past the Grandmot and stood in the middle of the speaking circle. Then she raised her hands to the sky and shouted something in the mots’ singsong tongue.

As her words rang across the valley, the mots gasped. They broke their silence and began to titter furiously amongst themselves. Even the Grandmot looked shocked for a moment — before she grabbed Hessa and flung her back to the guards. This time, the little girl walked away on her own. And she kept her chin high as she went.

“What did she say?” Silas hissed, pawing at Nadine.

But she didn’t answer him. Instead, she spun around. “I am going for a walk — alone,” she snapped, when Kyleigh tried to follow her. Nadine kept her eyes forward as she marched from the room.

“I feel as if I’ve missed something,” Jake said when she’d gone.

“It would take too long to explain, shaman. Go back to your trimmings,” Silas murmured. Then he stepped close to Kyleigh, pressing his chest against her shoulder. “We have to do something, dragoness — not for the human, of course. I just don’t like treachery.”

“
Treachery
is the problem, is it?” Kyleigh raised an eyebrow at him, but he just glowered back. She realized that she’d never get him to admit that he actually cared about what happened to Nadine. Cats could be such silly creatures. “Well, I ought to be able to come up with some mischief. But we’ll have to do something about those runes, first.”

She glanced at Elena, who gave her a rare smirk. “That shouldn’t be difficult.”

It was all settled, then. Kyleigh lay back on the bed of pelts, her head swimming with a dozen different ideas — each more devious than the last. Silas sat down beside her, as if he somehow might be able to keep her on task by breathing into her ear. And Elena went back to her corner.

Jake had finished trimming the longest bits of his beard, and now had a thick layer of mud slathered over his face. He fumbled with the razor for a moment, struggling to pop it open. Then he jerked back when the deadly silver blade sprang free.

He stared at the razor for almost a full minute, flipping it over until the sharp edge faced his chin. He seemed to have a difficult time deciding where to start: he turned the blade this way and that, like a man struggling at the keyhole.

Kyleigh was afraid he might cause himself real injury, and she was about to stop him. But Elena got there first.

“Hand it over.” She snatched the razor from his hand and took the cloth from his shoulder — whipping it over her own. She knelt in front of him, but he leaned back.

“What are you —?”

“You obviously don’t know how to handle a blade. And if you nick yourself, you’ll stink up the whole room with your blood. Now, hold still.”

Kyleigh made to jump to her feet, but Silas’s arm stuck out like a bar across her chest. His glowing eyes watched them, and a curious smirk bent his lips. Kyleigh was so intrigued that she decided to wait — but she still kept a sharp eye on Elena.

Her strokes were swift and sure. She brought the razor down the side of Jake’s face, leaving a line of clean skin behind her. As Elena worked, concentration softened her features: her mouth parted slightly, the harsh lines of her brows crept upwards. Her free hand rested gently under Jake’s chin.

Kyleigh knew she shouldn’t listen in, but it was obvious by the way Silas’s head was tilted that he was already doing it. So she strained her ears in their direction.

“I’m usually not quite this hopeless,” Jake said, as Elena paused to clean the razor. “But without a mirror —”

“Chin up,” Elena barked, and he tilted his head back obediently. She began to scrape the stubble from his neck, working carefully. “I saw what you did, the day your friends were captured,” she whispered. “You knocked the whole village off its feet with a single spell … I had no idea you were so powerful.”

Jake swallowed hard, and Elena took the razor away — so that she wouldn’t cut him as his throat bobbed up and down. “I’m not powerful,” he said scornfully. “I still carry a child’s impetus.”