The Darkness of Glengowyn (9 page)

Beyond the legend and rumors surrounding the Darkness, though, there
was
a violence in Einar, just under the skin. Whatever it was that made him so terrifying a warrior. Would he be able to bank that part of himself for a quiet, isolated life with her?

Banishment would mean they wouldn’t be welcomed in any elf city on the planet. Any human city that traded with elves would shun them as well. Their only possible choice would be isolation somewhere out of the way of everyone. Could he survive that?

Could she?

She’d told him the truth. So long as they were together, she could survive anything and be happy. She knew he loved her, even without words, but would he feel the same way after a century of solitude?

The barest of movements from Einar brought her to full alert. Barely visible in the light from the two-thirds first moon and the single gas lamp working on that block, she made out the white ghost of a messenger owl, gently gliding toward them. Einar remained seated but raised his arm to provide a perch for the bird.

She opened her mouth to protest. He wasn’t wearing protective leathers. The bird’s claws would slice his arm. But a moment later, the owl alighted and somehow avoided digging its talons into Einar’s vulnerable skin.

“How…?” she murmured.

He smiled but his gaze was focused on the bird. “My arm seems to be resistant to injury. Part of the way my magic works.”

“Amazing.” She watched him with the owl, taking advantage of a rare opportunity to witness him with the creatures he was so tied to, his unique magic.

Some thought his fighting skills were enhanced by magic also. Einar had never confirmed or denied that. The king and queen probably knew. The queen had a skill for identifying talents. But the owls, that was definitely a kind of magic. Watching him this closely with them was fascinating.

After a long silence, Einar finally opened his mouth and a soft whispery sound came out. Not at all what she was anticipating. She’d half expected him to screech like the owls. His whisper was mixed with very faint whistles. Then the owl launched upward, its powerful wings fanning her face with cool air as it gained height and angled back toward Glengowyn.

“So,” she said. “Do we have safe passage?”

He nodded but his gaze remained on the retreating owl. “Ulric and the queen will meet us at a sentry point at the border at dawn.”

“Dawn? Why not now?”

“No explanation was given. We’ll have to make our way toward the meeting point well before dawn to make the appointed time, but we have to stay hidden for most of the night.”

“How will we know where to go? Is it a location you’re familiar with? Can you be sure it won’t take us most of the night to get there?”

“The owl provided an aerial map of the area so I can find the sentry point. He flew the most direct route so I could judge the required time. That route wouldn’t take us long, but I doubt we’ll be able to travel easily. The owl spotted at least one minion patrol near that area. There will be more.”

“Then we won’t be able to wait here?”

“Probably not. They’ll be looking for us again.”

She stared out over the streets, surprised the idea of leaving this little island of quiet made her sad. It wasn’t exactly luxurious accommodations, but it had kept them safe through the day and given them a place to be together again. Leaving meant facing reality and consequences.

Einar gripped her chin and turned her face back toward his. He was closer now, his gaze direct when he said, “We’ll face what we must together. I won’t let the Sorcerers have you.”

“What of the queen?”

“She won’t take you away from me either. Not again.”

Her breath shivered out of her, but she firmed her shoulders and pushed back the worry. “When should we leave?”

He studied the street below, and she watched the side of his face as he thought and considered. Finally, he nodded as if confirming something to himself.

“We’ll leave now, go slowly and carefully. I don’t want to get caught far away from the meeting point at dawn because we were forced by minion activity to move in the opposite direction.”

“What if there’s no safe place nearby to wait?”

“We’ll find something.” He looked back at her. “You only have two arrows left. Keep my knife with you and don’t hesitate to use it, on minion or elf.”

She swallowed. “It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be, killing the traitor yesterday.”

“No. It isn’t. Some deaths are easy to mete out.”

“But I’m not you.”

He touched her cheek with the tips of his fingers before dropping his hand. “And I’m very grateful for that. You are, however, noble and just. Your actions come from that part of you. Not the place where my abilities come from.”

Because he’d broached the subject, she asked, “Will banishment…make things…difficult for you? In that regard.”

Tilting his head, he frowned as if she’d asked him something nonsensical. “I would welcome a reprieve from the Darkness.”

“But for how long?”

“To be with you? Forever.”

Her throat tightened again. In that moment, with the
Shaerta
still a tangible thing between them, he could speak of forever and no regrets. He could be sure the violence that made him who he was would just go away. But, for his sake, she couldn’t afford the luxury of that assurance. She didn’t push him further though. They had to survive the night.

And face the queen.

They collected the remaining fruit from their food stores and the little bit of water in their sacks, strapped on their weapons and left their sanctuary as carefully and quietly as they’d entered it that morning.

A cold breeze hummed through the city, kicking up dust and debris from the cobbles. She tugged the remains of her riding robe tighter around her and followed Einar through the shadows, keeping her attention on the streets and alleys at their back while Einar focused on what was ahead.

They traveled slowly, sticking to the deepest dark pools at the sides of buildings and in narrow passageways. Most of Noman’s Land remained black, with only the occasional gas lamp to provide any light, so staying to the shadows was easy enough. As they skirted one of the rare lit lamps, Nuala couldn’t help but wonder who was lighting them, the humans or the Sorcerers.

The first sounds of booted feet sent them down a side road, into a blackness between buildings she had trouble navigating. She kept a hand on Einar’s lower back so she wouldn’t lose him and allowed him to lead her to a more open street a block away.

While waiting to make sure their way would be clear, he leaned in and said, “That sounded like humans. But farther away, I heard carriage wheels.”

That made her frown. His hearing was significantly better than hers, despite how acute hers was, but that wasn’t what bothered her. Why a carriage in Noman’s Land? What were they moving that couldn’t just walk? And who was moving the mysterious something? A carriage was too easy to hear, too easy for two lone elves to hide from. It made no sense to bring something so awkward and noisy into a search, if the carriage belonged to the Sorcerers, not when there were more than enough minions to scour the streets on foot. And she couldn’t think of a single reason the Sinnale might send a valuable carriage into Noman’s Land.

“Stay alert,” Einar said, then led her across the open street to yet another set of quiet shadows circling what had once been a greenery-filled square.

They edged through the blocks so slowly, so carefully, it felt as if the journey that should have taken a short time took half the night. Nuala’s muscles remained tense as she kept alert for movement and sound. Maintaining that kind of vigil wore on her, and exhaustion crept through her body with the passing minutes.

As they waited, yet again, while Einar assured himself of their way, she rubbed her shoulders in an attempt to release some of the tension and pressure. She’d be no good in a fight if her body was already too tired to react because she’d gotten tight from containing her fear.

The goblin war had been… Not easier. Still tense, still exhausting. But the constant action and battles had kept her too busy to spend much time thinking and worrying. There were only a few quiet moments, a few brief respites during which to consider the fear in her gut. Einar had always distracted her with conversation during those quiet times. This was different. Though they were moving, the tension of hiding and remaining silent while others hunted for them didn’t keep her from thinking and considering the worst.

She would not allow the Sorcerers to take her. Or to kill Einar, if she could help it. Unfortunately, she was woefully undertrained for a fight, and she kept imagining Einar’s death. Even the thought clogged her throat and brought tears to her eyes. To actually see such a thing…

Rolling her shoulders, she pulled in a deep silent breath, held it, then let it out slowly through her nose, releasing the building panic. So far, they’d avoided the various patrols—both human and minion. They were nearing the rendezvous point. Safety was in sight. They’d both survive this.

Einar held their position for longer than at any other part of their journey, his body so still she reached out to touch his back just to assure herself he was breathing.

Leaning in close, she said, “What’s wrong?”

He held up a hand for silence. After another torturous few moments passed, he turned and spoke into her ear, his voice barely audible. “Minions have surrounded the area near the meeting point. Several contingents. Something has given the location away.”

“Where?” she mouthed, knowing he would hear without her having to make more than the barest of sounds.

“In the buildings. On the rooftops. I’ve spotted them in at least three different locations, so far. The center of their positions is the sector of Sinnale border where Ulric is supposed to meet us.”

“Will the humans come if there are so many minions waiting?”

He didn’t immediately answer, and his silence made her already jumping heartbeat speed.

“They may be there already,” he finally said. “That could be why so many minions have gathered. We’re not close enough for me to see.”

“They’ll wait for us. They won’t start fighting yet.”

“There’s some time before dawn. We’re not safe here, but I can hear minions moving in behind us.”

His comment startled her. She directed her attention back to the area they’d already passed through, and now she could hear the faint sound of marching, several blocks away but moving swiftly in this direction.

They were surrounded.

Chapter Nine

“Now what?” Nuala said, leaning closer to Einar as the tension that had carried her through the streets turned to full-fledged fear.

He stared up at the sky as if in thought, and because she trusted him, she didn’t interrupt. But the sound of approaching footsteps sent her pulse racing. She slipped her bow over her head, readied one of her two remaining arrows, and faced the path behind them, watching their backs.

An intolerable few moments passed in silence and anticipation of attack, reminding her of their ride in to Sinnale and the knowledge that they
would
be attacked at some point in their journey. Then Einar sucked in a deep gulp of air.

“We’ll have help in a moment,” he said against her ear.

She frowned up at him, about to ask what help, when slight movement from the corner of her eye made her pause. She looked toward the sky. Past some of the lower rooftops, she caught flashes of white, gliding silently in their direction. It took her a beat to realize what she was seeing. Owls. A lot of them, approaching in a fast, silent mass from the direction of Glengowyn.

She gripped Einar’s arm. “They’ll be hurt.”

“Watch. And follow my direction.”

She kept her gaze on the approaching birds, the readied bow and arrow in hand. The mass swished overhead, silent except for the beat of their wings. In that pass, a few shouts rose from the surrounding buildings, and Nuala spotted a number of minions pointing toward the sky. To her horror, she watched as one drew back the string on his bow. But before he could fire, something dark dropped from the sky, hitting him on the very top of his head. The man collapsed without even a shout to indicate he was hurt.

Nuala looked up to see even more owls, circling above the area. One by one, they dropped low, released something from their talons, then climbed quickly back to join the others. More shouts rose from around them, echoing through the streets. Arrows launched into the sky, but the owls kept high and beyond their reach. Then another volley of arrows filled the air, this one aimed at the rooftops, toward the minions.

Chaos erupted then. Arrows flew. The sound of swords clashing rang. Minions poured out of the surrounding buildings as human soldiers charged into the streets. A full-blown assault filled the early hour before dawn with noise and madness.

“This helps us?” she asked Einar as she glanced back toward the owls. The mass of white circled farther away, near enough to return if needed but well beyond the reach of the combatants’ weapons.

“We can move through chaos. Without this, we were dead.”

She hoped he was right. But when he stepped out from their cover and into the street, toward the fighting, she didn’t hesitate to follow. His sword in one hand, he edged her through the conflict, easing them toward the border. She kept her bow readied but angled down. With only two arrows and a knife, she had to be careful how she used her weaponry.