Slight and Shadow (Fate's Forsaken: Book Two) (45 page)

Kael’s memory came back in a rush. He hadn’t been in the mountains at all — he’d been in the plains. There’d been fighting and bursts of light … Noah had been wounded.

Where was he? He needed to get back. His friends were in trouble — his task wasn’t finished yet.

“Roland, I …”

He stopped. Roland had wandered further up the path. When he turned, he crossed his arms over his tunic — a tunic that was as white as the clouds above the sea. It matched the white of his breeches, his boots … and Kael realized that the man in his dreams hadn’t been Death at all.

It was Roland.

“There now, boy. Don’t you cry over me.” Roland’s rough hand clasped his shoulder, but Kael’s tears continued to fall. They streamed down his face in miserable torrents, wetting the ground at his knees.

“You’re dead,” Kael managed to gasp out.

“That I am.”

Roland told him everything that had befallen Tinnark — of what Titus did to the village, how many of the Tinnarkians he’d seen cross the river. He even told about how he’d been slain. And as Kael listened, his tears began to dry.

“But you wanted … a woodsman’s death …”

Roland’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “I died a
warrior’s
death, Kael. That was a gift that I’d never dared to wish for.”

This comforted him a bit, but Kael’s thoughts quickly turned dark. “I promise you, I’ll make sure Marc and Laemoth pay for what they did.”

Roland glanced at the river. “Laemoth’s already been paid back,” he murmured. “And I’m sure you’ll send Marc on his way — but when the time comes, all right? It’ll do you no good to dwell on it. Don’t let him gnaw at you.”

Kael nodded. There was one other question he needed to ask, but it took a great deal of courage to force it out. “What about Amos?”

Roland shook his head, grinning. “He hasn’t come through here. That clever old coot must’ve charmed Titus into keeping him.”

Kael sighed in relief. For some reason, it made him feel a little lightheaded. He got off his knees and sat on his rump. Roland sat down beside him. “Am
I
dead?” he wondered aloud.

“Not quite,” Roland said with a wink. “Otherwise, you’d be dressed like me.”

Kael hadn’t realized that he was still wearing the same tattered, filthy tunic and breeches that he’d been wearing in the plains. His eyes suddenly felt heavy. He tried to prop them open.

“How did you find me?” he muttered. The crack they sat in was rather large — he couldn’t see the end of it. “How did you know I’d be here?”

Roland’s smile was sad. “I didn’t know. I just happened to be wandering by when this little brown-headed seas boy waved me down …” He had to stop when Kael broke into a fresh wave of tears.

Anguish gripped him on either side of his head. It squeezed him, forcing all the wet from his eyes, but he felt no shame. There was no shame in these tears, not when he thought of the young life that had been cut so horribly short.

“Noah,” he managed to gasp. He saw the boy’s face clearly: how it had brightened at adventure, hardened as he fought. Even now, he remembered how Noah used to follow Jonathan around the ship, laughing at his mischief.

“You were asleep,” Roland went on, once Kael had quieted. “That happens when a man is near to death, but not quite there. I told young Noah that I’d look after you, and I sent him on his way.”

Kael glared at the river. “Did he …?”

Roland nodded firmly. “He crossed over without a fuss — his boots hardly even got wet. He was a good one.”

Relief covered Kael like a blanket, warming him against the cold. It was suddenly very difficult to keep his eyes open. He decided to lie down, just for a moment, and close them. “I don’t want you stuck here any longer,” he muttered to Roland. “I don’t care what you promised my father — I want you to cross the river. I think there’s a much gentler land on the other side … the trapping will be better.”

Roland chuckled. “I don’t doubt it. And I promise that I’ll cross — just as soon as you’ve gone back to sleep.”

This was a comforting thought. With his last conscious breath, Kael whispered: “Do you think I would’ve made it?”

Roland sighed heavily. “The only man who knows the answer to that question is the man who’s already standing on the other side.”

*******

He fought her. He always fought her. That was just like Kael: he never wanted any help, he never wanted anybody else to know his pain. But Kyleigh was stronger. When he tried to hide from her, she drew him out.

Her soul twined with his — holding him, comforting him. Slowly, his hard shell began to crumble away, and he spoke:

It hurt so badly
, his soul whispered.

I know. Let me take it
, Kyleigh whispered back.

An ache filled her head, throbbing in the beginning and stabbing by the end. Her eyes trembled in their sockets as the storm raged behind them. Then came the blows — blows she was familiar with. She felt the slap of the leather and the sharp, metal teeth woven into the lashes. They tore across her back, splitting her skin. She screamed as the blows fell, but not because it hurt: because she was furious.

Kael should’ve never had to suffer like this. These blows should’ve never touched him. She understood his pain. His soul spoke for him, sharing all of the torment and humiliation, all of the agony that she knew he would’ve never said aloud.

Hot tears of rage burned down her cheeks when she thought of how much he’d had to endure … simply because she hadn’t been there to protect him.

When his soul was finished speaking, he woke. He squirmed in her hold and she released him. He flopped over and grabbed her by the shoulders. His warm brown eyes were still glazed in sleep; she knew he was only half awake.

“Roland’s dead,” he moaned. “He’s … he’s
dead
.”

The tears that streamed down his face hurt her more than his wounds. She wrapped her arms around him and held his head to her chest. She ran her hand down his back, sighing in relief when she didn’t feel any gashes. His body was healed, he was out of danger. And after a few moments, he quieted.

As she settled him back onto his pallet, she couldn’t help herself: she kissed him on the cheek.

For a long moment, Kyleigh didn’t move. Her skin was raw and bleeding. She could hear the sizzling of her blood as it trickled from the fresh gashes on her back. One drop crossed her shoulder and raced down her arm. She watched dully as it fell from the tip of her finger and onto Kael’s chest.

Anybody else would’ve woken with a scream. Her blood was every bit as hot as molten steel: it could burn a man’s flesh to blisters — she’d seen it happen before. But the fire in her blood could never harm Kael.

Though she’d felt this in her heart, it wasn’t until that moment that she knew for certain. She wiped the red drop away, and Kael’s skin was smooth and perfect beneath it.

If the dragons had a word for love, it would’ve been
valtas
. In human words, she thought it meant
the very deep
. Valtas was a blood oath — a connection that would never break. Two dragons who shared the valtas could feel the same pain, suffer the same wounds. But most importantly, the fires in their blood could never burn each other’s flesh.

Her dragon soul remembered the valtas, but Kyleigh never thought she would feel it for herself. She was only half-dragon, after all. She’d chosen to live as a human, and she thought if she ever fell in love, that it would be the human sort of love — the sort that wasn’t binding. The sort she could escape from.

She’d always liked Kael, even from the first moment she’d held him. There were lights in his eyes that excited her, a depth that made her feel understood. He was different from the other humans, and she knew they would always be great friends. She would’ve protected him from all harm. She would’ve cared for him in his old age.

Yes, she knew from the beginning that she would always like Kael. But somewhere along the way … her feelings must have changed. They’d grown quietly, creeping in from the edges to the very center of her heart. She hadn’t realized just how much her feelings had grown, until the day she rescued him from the tempest.

She’d pulled Kael from the sea, felt him go limp in her arms, felt her own lungs tighten as he struggled to breathe — and felt a part of her life begin to fade with his. She realized that if she ever lost him, the sunlight would go gray. Her body would live on in a dark world, a strange world. A world that might last for a thousand years … until the sun finally dawned on her last day.

Kyleigh had realized this as she pressed down on Kael’s chest, as she’d breathed life into his lungs. But she hadn’t wanted to believe it. She didn’t want her life to be tied to anybody else’s. She wanted to be her own creature — a free, proud creature. And for a few desperate moments, she’d been furious.

It was when he breathed again that everything changed … it was when Kael opened his eyes that Kyleigh began her second life.

The same warmth coursed through their blood, the same breath filled their lungs. Kyleigh felt a thrill that burned to the tips of her fingers. These were new skies — the beginning of a strange, uncharted, and wonderful land. In all her many sunrises, she’d never felt her heart beat quite like this.

She had to wonder if that was the moment it truly began to beat.

For a while, she’d been impossibly happy. Then … things changed once more. Kael was a human. He didn’t feel the same way she did, and she thought — she
hoped
, that perhaps she’d been mistaken. Perhaps she’d only imagined that she felt a dragon’s love for him. Perhaps it was only human love she felt, and nothing more.

But now, her blood proved her wrong. There was no longer any hope that what she felt for him wasn’t valtas. She couldn’t deny the truth, and she couldn’t escape it, either:

Kyleigh loved Kael with both of her hearts.

Chapter 42

Squirming Hope

When Kael woke, he was alone.

He lay with his face pressed into his pallet for a moment, trying to remember where he was. When the familiar, stale reek of giant clothes filled his nostrils, it all came back to him suddenly: they’d been trying to free the women, Gilderick’s army had attacked, and Noah …

He knew that Noah was dead … somehow, he knew. His eyes still ached from crying. He thought he could feel the dried trail down his cheeks, from where his tears had fallen.

Kael rubbed the soreness from his eyes and tried to focus. He saw that he was back in the stall, and he thought they must’ve failed. Gilderick must’ve captured them and locked them back up. But when Kael turned, he saw the stall door was open. Voices drifted in from outside.

Slowly, he got to his feet. He remembered that he’d been wounded, and that all of his gashes had torn open again when he tried to stop the gate. So he moved carefully, his face already pulled into a wince. He waited for the familiar sting of pain, but it didn’t come. He reached behind him in surprise.

Though his shirt was torn, he felt no wounds. He twisted his back from side to side, testing his skin, and he realized that his wounds were gone. Somehow, he’d been healed.

What in Kingdom’s name was going on?

Kael left the stall at a jog. Outside, there were dozens of large, sleeping forms gathered around low-burning campfires. The giants were curled up together, wrapped tightly in makeshift blankets of filthy clothes and potato sacks. He saw several long braids peeking out from the covers, and sighed in relief. At least the women were safe.

But mercy’s sake — they snored just as loudly as the men.

“Kael!”

A shadowy figure hailed him towards Eastbarn, and then it slipped back inside. Kael walked through the doors, stuck his head into the first stall — and was met by a familiar, shining white grin.

“My dear boy,” Captain Lysander began, when he saw the confused look on Kael’s face, “you didn’t
really
think we’d let you face the Lord of the plains all on your own, did you?”

Kael had to clench his fists to keep from swinging at him. A flick of movement drew his eyes to Lysander’s shoulder, where Eveningwing was perched.

He ruffled his feathers apologetically, and Kael immediately understood. “You’ve been helping them, haven’t you?” he guessed. “You led the pirates back to the tree clump weeks ago —
that’s
how they got here so quickly.” He turned his glare on Lysander. “And that’s why the guards started
mysteriously
disappearing.”

“Their armor is weak at the neck,” Lysander said with a grin, but Kael wasn’t amused.

“I told you to stay put,” he growled, stalking forward. Another memory came back to him, and his anger blazed even hotter. “And I can’t believe you dragged Aerilyn into this! How could you, when you knew very well how dangerous —?”

“Ah, now
that
I can’t take the blame for,” Lysander said, and his face became stern. “When Eveningwing told us you were in danger, we planned to set out immediately. Of course, Aerilyn wanted to come along, but I wouldn’t hear of it. We’d been lucky to escape with our hides the first time. And I wasn’t about to risk her life again.”

Lysander clasped his hands behind his back and started to pace. Poor Eveningwing nearly toppled off his shoulder at the first quick turn.

“But there’s no reasoning with Aerilyn, once she sets her mind on something. So I didn’t try to reason. Instead, I led her to our cabin, gave her a
proper
farewell,” he added with a wink, “and then I locked her in. I thought this sort of thing might happen eventually. I’d even had the men pack their steel codpieces, just in case. And I was certain they could hold her captive for a few weeks.” Lysander’s stern look melted into a smile. “But I was wrong.

“Not three days after we arrived at camp, Aerilyn found us. She dragged my entire crew in by their ears and flatly refused to tell me how she’d managed to escape — even though I asked politely. I suspect a mutiny,” Lysander mused, though his smile didn’t fade. “In the end, we wound up needing every sword. So I suppose it all turned out for the best.” He leveled his chin at Kael, and his face went serious. “We’ve managed to free the Pens, and we’ve pushed Gilderick’s army back into the castle, for now. But I suspect they’ll attack us again tomorrow. Or today, rather — we’ve only got a couple of hours before dawn.”

Kael was still furious with him for sneaking back into the plains, but there were far more pressing matters at hand. “Have we got a plan?”

Lysander shook his head. “
I
wanted to leave His Lordship to rot, but —”

“The giants can’t be free, so long as our plains mother is in bonds,” Brend called from behind him. His eyes glinted as they fell on Kael. “We’ll leave the planning to you, wee Wright — since you’re such a great schemer.”

Kael didn’t have energy to try and figure out if he was being serious. He saw the giantess sitting next to Brend, and recognized her as the one Jonathan had been trying to help through the gate. She had an open face and a soft smile. She leaned back against Brend, her arms propped across her rounded belly.

“You must be Darrah,” he guessed.

Her smile widened. “That I am, wee thing. And you look as if you could use a meal. We’ve got the vittles stacked up over there.” She pointed towards the aisle.

Kael leaned out and saw that the whole trough had been packed full of rations. Sacks stuffed with meats, cheeses, and breads filled it just as tightly as they would fit, and the rich smell of food thickened the air.

“Go and get yourself fed,” Darrah insisted. “Don’t be shy about it — you need to get some meat on those wee little bones!”

“They nearly fed us to death,” Brend whispered. He groaned and clutched his belly. “I don’t think I could manage another crumb!”

Though the food smelled delicious, Kael was too focused to eat much of anything. He grabbed a strip of salted meat and gnawed on it distractedly as he left to inspect the camp.

How large was the giants’ army? Did they have any hope against Lord Gilderick? There were certainly more men than he’d expected … but they weren’t very well armed.

A few giants carried the pikes that they’d stolen from the castle armory. Most of them were armed with scythes, and some had even had to make do with pitchforks or shovels. A handful of giants
had
managed to pilfer bits of armor from the guards they’d slain — though most had scythe-sized holes punched into their breastplates. But they didn’t seem to be bothered by their disadvantage.

At nearly every fire he passed, Kael saw giants sharpening their weapons. A few even hailed him over, and asked when he planned to attack. He heard the eagerness in their voices. Their mouths were set in impatient lines.

The giants’ hearts were certainly ready for battle … but would that be enough? He wasn’t sure. Gilderick’s forces were well-armed and well-trained. They were bloodtraitors: they’d already lost everything, and would fight like they had nothing left to lose.

Perhaps the giants loved their plains so fiercely that it wouldn’t matter — maybe they’d be able to match the bloodtraitors’ strength, overcome their pikes and armor. But Kael wasn’t sure.

Worry sat so heavily in his gut that he thought the giants might be able to read it on his face. So he left the light of the fires and went in search of someplace quiet.

He found Thelred standing guard at the edge of camp, stalking a line around the barns. He spent most of his time glaring at Declan — who sat alone at the edge of the grain field, his scythe propped across his knees.

Not surprisingly, Thelred didn’t offer Kael any sort of greeting.

“I’m not going to turn my back on that one,” he said, jerking his head at Declan. “He’s insane.”

“He can’t help it.”

“You didn’t see him fight,” Thelred snapped, and Kael thought the anger in his eyes might’ve been tinged with fear. “He howled like an animal — he killed like an animal, too. I’ve never seen so much blood.”

“You don’t know anything about him. He’s a good man,” Kael growled. He started to walk away, then, because he thought that if he stayed another moment he might have to knock Thelred unconscious again.

“Men like that don’t know friend from foe,” Thelred called after him. “If you get in his way, he’ll kill you.”

Kael refused to believe that. Declan wouldn’t hurt somebody he cared about, he would never go
that
mad — because if Declan was capable of killing his friends, it meant that Kael was, too.

His teeth clamped down hard at the thought.

A little further across camp, he found Aerilyn. She was crouched at the shed behind Northbarn, her bow in one hand. She had her enchanted quiver strapped across her shoulders — the one Jake had spelled to make her arrows explode.

Kael slowed his pace as he approached. From the sound of it, Aerilyn was in the process of voiding her latest meal into some unlucky nettle bushes. He knew that she would probably like some privacy.

“It’s just all of the excitement catching up to me,” she insisted, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. Kael retrieved her canteen from the ground, and she took a long drink. “I’ve been worried about you for weeks! And then I finally get to see you again, and Noah … Noah …” She pressed her thumbs against her eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears. “Lysander said that I’m not supposed to cry for him — he said Noah wouldn’t have wanted me to cry. And I’ve tried not to, I really have, but …” She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and pointed her chin at Kael. “They’ve got his body in one of the barns. You can see him, if you’d like.”

Kael shook his head. “I don’t want to see him like that.” He swallowed hard, but forced his next words out: “I’d rather remember him the way he was.”

Aerilyn’s chin quivered dangerously. Then quite suddenly, she flung her arms around his neck. “Oh, I’ve missed you so horribly. You always know just what to say. I’m glad you’re all right, and that your wounds are mended …”

Kael had forgotten about his wounds, and Aerilyn looked as if she’d forgotten that she wasn’t supposed to mention them. Her mouth clamped shut, and her eyes widened for half a blink.

She grabbed his arm. “Let’s go find Morris —”

“What happened to my wounds?” Kael pressed her. “How did they get healed?”

She dug something out of her pocket. “I’ve got your book,” she said, stuffing the
Atlas
into his hands. “I kept it safe, just like you —”

“Aerilyn,” he growled. “Just tell me.”

But not even his glare could shake her. She gave him a defiant look. “I promised I wouldn’t tell, and I won’t do it. That’s the end of it,” she added, when Kael started to argue. “Now, let’s go talk to Morris.”

As he followed her away, his steps felt lighter than they had in months. There was a hope squirming inside his chest, wriggling like a new thing against the blackened shell of his heart …

No
, he thought furiously.
Don’t even think it
.

And his tiny hope went still.

They stepped carefully over the many sleeping giants, and wound their way through camp a few times before they finally found Morris and Jonathan hiding out in Southbarn. Morris leaned up against the far wall, munching on a hunk of toasted bread. He’d lost both of his hands while fighting in the Whispering War, and kept his nubs capped in leather gauntlets. There was a long stick wedged into the straps of one of his gauntlets, and he had the bread stuck to the end of it.

“You done it again, lad,” Morris said as Kael approached. He broke out into a gap-toothed grin. “I’ve got to stop being so surprised about it.”

“What surprises me,” Aerilyn cut in, “is
that
.”

They followed her appalled look to Jonathan — who was sleeping soundly on the dirt floor, and tangled in the limbs of a rather stunning giantess. Bits of hair popped from her braid in wild, wavy strips. And even as she slept, her brows were arched in mischievous lines.

Kael realized this must be Clairy.

When he saw the swollen, fist-sized lump on the side of Jonathan’s face, he
knew
it must be Clairy. “So I take it that Brend still hasn’t warmed up to the idea of having a fiddler for a brother?”

Aerilyn shook her head. “If it hadn’t been for the women, I don’t think there would’ve been much left of him.” She smiled and lowered her voice. “Darrah put her foot down, and I didn’t think it would do much good — but Brend actually listened! In fact, he got rather upset. One word from Darrah, and his shoulders slumped. He looked as if he’d just been scolded by his mother, in my opinion. Can you believe it? A big man like Brend, being told what to do?” Aerilyn took a quick breath. “Anyways, Darrah made Brend apologize, and then she led him off. I believe Lysander has been distracting him with his pirate stories … while Clairy keeps Jonathan out of arm’s reach,” Aerilyn added, pursing her lips at the sleeping couple. Her brows furrowed for a moment as she stared at them. Then with an exasperated huff, she threw up her arms. “Oh, I’ll just go cross-eyed if I sit here puzzling over it!”