Return to the Shadows (16 page)

“I think so. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” I nodded decisively. “Yes, I do. The
timing, the description, everything matches up and points to
Mark.”

“Right. So don’t be nervous. Are you rested
enough to go on now?”

I stood to follow her up the craggy mountain
path, my energy restored for the moment. “Let’s do it.”

***

It was several hours later and pitch dark
when we stopped for food and sleep. We were nearly to the top of
the mountain and the ruins. Had it been daylight, we probably could
have pressed on rather than stopping for the night. But the dark
made the mountain treacherous and difficult to navigate, for me at
least. Aries seemed to have better night vision than I did. What a
surprise.

“Chicken or beef?”

“What does the chef recommend?” I asked her
wearily.

“Honestly? Neither.”

“Chicken it is.”

“Fine. I’ll take the beef.” She smiled and
sat cross-legged in the brush across from me.

“Where do we sleep?” I questioned between
bites of cold chicken. It actually was not all that bad for canned
chicken.

“Over there.” She pointed to a thick spot of
brush. “Tuck yourself underneath it as far as you can. It should
provide adequate cover. I’ll be on this ledge keeping first
watch.”

“You’re taking first watch? Are you
sure?”

“Yes. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you if
anything happens, don’t worry.”

I didn’t tell her that waking me if anything
should happen was the least of my worries. Her not being able to
wake me was what I was more concerned about. That didn’t exactly
make for a decent night’s sleep, or a decent few hours’ sleep, I
should say. I dozed on and off for about three and a half hours
before I gave up and took Aries’s spot on the ledge.

I heard the faint scratching sound close to
three in the morning. I knew it was three in the morning because
the faint shimmer of dawn was approaching; the sun rose earlier
here in the mountains. I had been thinking about the Shadow
Man—Lahuel—and how three in the morning was considered by some to
be the “witching hour.” So the hairs on the back of my neck were
already standing up by the time I heard the rustling to my left.
Well, technically, I didn’t have hair on the back of my neck. I
waxed every six weeks.

The point was, I was already on edge, so I
thought I had possibly imagined the scratching sounds.

“Aries, wake up.” Better safe than sorry, I
figured as I knelt down to rouse her from her spot under the
brush.

“What is it?” She was instantly alert.

“I think I heard a noise. It came from—”

“Right behind you!”

“No, actually, it was a little to the left
around the—”

“No, behind you! Get down!” In one fluid
motion, she shoved me aside and rolled out of the brush.

“Stay back, Claire!”

My eyes widened in an equal mix of shock and
horror when I saw the bird. At least, I thought it was a bird. It
was big, easily twice the size of an ostrich. Its coat was jeweled
in a rich myriad of colors, and it was angry. Or hungry. I
swallowed and scrambled for my gun as the thing lunged at Aries.
The thin gray light of day was beginning to creep over the mountain
and chase away the shadows; I could see a dark substance stained
the bird’s claws and razor-like teeth. Blood. I fired the gun twice
before the creature fell to the ground in a shiny, feathery heap.
Aries had fired a weapon of her own into the thing—a lethal-looking
bronze-tipped arrow.

“What the hell was that?” I gasped, feeling
unsteady on my feet.

“Aragazzi.” She handed me my pack and slipped
into her own.

“Aragazzi,” I repeated dumbly.

“It means, ‘guardian of the mountain.’”

“It had blood on its claws and teeth…should
we go check if anyone is hurt?”

“No. We should get moving. Right now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. They travel in packs. We have to get
out of here now.”

“Enough said. Let’s go.”

Chapter Eight

The Ruins

The fog was thick. I watched his shadow move
through the mist. There were others with him, and I drew in a sharp
breath of thin mountain air, staying still and silent in the gloom.
I knew we were hidden from view of the group that danced before
us…warriors that moved in such a way as to be termed beautiful.
Most carried a sword or what looked to be kendo sticks. It was
difficult to see much more than basic outlines at that
distance.

“Aries, that’s him; it’s really him.” I
couldn’t drag in enough air. I couldn’t seem to help the sudden
case of nerves. “It’s Mark,” I whispered. She didn’t respond and I
didn’t look back at her. It seemed I couldn’t take my eyes off the
man in the shadows.

I would never be able to say how I knew it
was him, but I did. I had dreamed of him, of the moment I would see
him again, for so long that I half expected to wake up at any
second. I would find that this had all been a dream. The sunlight
would be streaming through the tall windows and spilling over the
Navajo rug in my bedroom like it always did. Ashley would be
snuggled at my side because she’d had another bad dream and had
climbed into bed with me sometime during the night.

But when I opened my eyes, Ashley was not
there and neither was my bedroom. I blinked hard against the fog.
The ruins rose majestically in the distance where the men had
ceased their practice. I took an instinctive step back, nearly
bumping into my companion. Mark was advancing through the mist, and
I hastily turned around and pushed Aries toward the path that lay
behind us.

“He’s coming, let’s go!” I hissed.

“We came to find him,” she reminded me.

“Well, now we have. Let’s go.”

“No.” She turned me around and gave me a
gentle nudge toward the ruins. Toward Mark. I gulped and took in a
pair of muscled legs clad in dark leather, a nude chest, and
finally, a pair of eyes that held all the warmth of ice as they
stared back at me.

“Claire.”

“Hello, Mark.” If I had hoped that Mark would
be glad to see me, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Because Mark didn’t exactly look thrilled at
my presence. If anything, he looked quite the opposite. I felt like
something under a microscope as he continued to stare me down in
silence. It was hard not to think about turning around and walking
back down the mountain, but I quickly discarded the idea. For one
thing, I knew that Aries wouldn’t let me. Not to mention I was
tired and not at all eager for another run-in with God only knew
what on the treacherous mountain trails. Besides, Aries was right.
We had come to find him. More than that, we had traveled a long way
to find the Warrior of the Ruins, and for good reason. I thought of
Ashley and the fences, and of Bob and Marta, and I met Mark’s eyes
with a steady gaze of my own.

“You look good, Mark.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you. We came here to find
you,” I explained, gesturing behind me to Aries.

“It’s been over a year. You’re the last
person I expected to see here.”

Now what did I say to that? Memories of the
two of us standing together in Marta’s kitchen the morning we had
been separated stood between us; a lifetime had lay ahead of us. I
could still see his eyes as he told me he would be back soon. As he
asked me if I thought he could ever belong in my world. Or better
yet, if I would stay in his. He left that morning expecting...

“I asked you what you are doing here,
Claire.”

Aries stepped forward then, effectively
saving me from having to answer Mark’s question.

“There have been some changes since you left
Grandview. The attacks are becoming more frequent and the fences
are failing, Mark.”

His eyes cut to her immediately and I could
feel the tension that surrounded the three of us.

“Bob and Marta?”

“Are doing fine,” I was quick to reassure.
“The fences are still intact in Grandview. So far. But failures
have occurred further south from Coztal to Bellview. Grandview will
be next, Mark. Along with a lot of other places.”

“How did this happen? Where are the
Matrons?”

“We don’t know. But we need your help. And
the help of your men.” I gestured to the ruins behind Mark where
his men had gathered, watching and patiently waiting.

“Will you go back and fight with us?” Aries
didn’t bother to mince words.

“What of the towns that were left
unprotected?”

“Lives were lost,” she told him quietly.
“Some of the people are believed to have taken to the woods or the
cliffs in hiding.”

“But they won’t last long without help,” I
added.

“We leave tonight, as soon as the moon rises.
Come on, you can rest in our camp until then.”

Was it my imagination or did his voice thaw a
degree? Imagination, I decided as he turned swiftly and led us
through the ruins and across a flat, grassy plateau. The area was
more narrow than wide, and the only foliage looked to be little
tufts of crab grass scattered across the ground. He nodded to his
men as we passed them, and they automatically turned to follow
us.

“How many men have gathered here?”

“More than one hundred were already here when
I arrived.”

“One hundred men will be of great use.” Aries
nodded her approval.

“We have since recruited two hundred
more.”

“Three hundred men,” I gasped, astonished. A
quick glance of our surroundings revealed maybe fifty men tops, and
I wondered where the other two hundred and fifty were hiding. The
mountain didn’t look all that big.

“Yes. Three hundred men.” It was hard not to
miss the contempt in Mark’s voice as I swung back to him.

“For the battle, of course,” I quickly added.
One of the men behind us snickered, and Mark and I turned as one to
glare at him. Aries seemed to develop a sudden fascination with her
fingernails.

“Camp is this way,” he bit out, and our
procession through the flatland continued.

We stopped at the edge of the mountain, where
a narrow opening was partially hidden by coarse brush.

“Watch your step and stay close together,”
Mark warned us. “The cave cuts to the left, and there are two sets
of steps that will take us around the side of the mountain and down
to the camp.”

“Do you wish us to change guards now, boss?”
one of the men questioned from the entrance.

“Yes. Full staff at the ready. We leave
tonight. Be ready,” he emphasized and turned to lead us through the
wide opening in the side of the mountain and through a crudely cut
tunnel that probably would have incited claustrophobia in most of
the broad-shouldered soldiers that occupied the camp, had they been
the sort to let such things bother them. As it was, I was willing
to bet that Mark’s men didn’t let much of anything get to them.
Mark himself had grown a hard shell since the last time he and I
had been together.

I remembered with startling, vivid,
bittersweet clarity the young man who’d rescued me from lake
monsters and slain demons in my honor. Well, maybe he hadn’t
actually done any demon slaying, but he would have, had there been
any. He had rescued me from danger more than once, though, and had
offered his aid—and repeatedly put himself in danger—when he really
hadn’t been required to do so. And…he was sweet. At least he had
been. This new Mark, who led us through set after set of steeply
winding stairs that cut through the interior of the mountain,
looked more like the demon than the gentle-hearted slayer who had
occupied my dreams for the past year. There didn’t appear to be any
softness in him now. He was bigger, harder, and…meaner than I
remembered. I didn’t know what I had expected to find, really, but
the almost imperceptible nod from Aries as we continued our descent
told me that I probably shouldn’t have been all that surprised to
find…well, a warrior.

My mind struggled to come to grips with the
past thirty-six hours. It was true—the Warrior of the Ruins was
Mark. Of course he had changed, I tried to reason, my eyes
squinting against the darkness that rendered the single torch Mark
carried all but ineffective. Time had passed, hadn’t it? I had
changed, Aries had changed. Of course Mark would have changed as
well. Still…he seemed so different, such a polar opposite from the
man I had once known. And loved.

Well...

I lifted my chin and looked straight ahead
for a brief moment before once again fixing my gaze on the narrow
stone steps in front of me, concentrating on putting one foot in
front of the other. There didn’t appear to be any tender feelings
in Mark at all now, let alone when it came to me.

After what truly seemed like hours, but in
all likelihood was no more than thirty or forty minutes, Mark
halted in front of us and I nearly bumped into Aries on the last
step.

“This way,” he ordered, ushering us down yet
another poorly lit crude hall that some long ago people had carved
into the belly of the mountain. The stone was cold and damp and the
air smelled dank. I took a deep breath and reached out to catch the
tail end of Aries’s shirt, suddenly anxious for human contact.

“This is yours to use while you’re here,”
Mark informed us a moment later, showing us into a slightly less
damp eight-by-ten stone box of a room. It was still cold, but at
least the chamber sported two halfway comfortable-looking cots and
a handmade dresser, complete with ornate brass knobs. There were
even two large wall sconces, one by the door and another on the
opposite wall between the two cots. Mark lit both off his torch
before turning to go back the way he came.

“Wait,” I blurted, without knowing what to
say.

“Yes?” His eyes met mine, and for a moment,
something flickered in their cold depths.

“How long are we staying here?”

“Like I told my men, we leave this evening.
Neither of you are prisoners here, you can come and go as you
please. This room is yours to rest as you see fit until we leave
here. We eat in a couple of hours.