It was like watching a tiny thundercloud approaching a mountain.
A thundercloud followed by an outsized puppy and a very large kitten. All three of them stopped in front of Tamlin.
“You put dat down,” Aisha ordered.
He looked at her and then pointed at his kaffee. “This?”
“Dat.”
Tamlin raised the cup. “This?”
“Uh-oh.” Roeglin murmured.
Aisha answered, “Yup.”
Tamlin sipped his kaffee...slowly...before lowering his cup to chest height and shaking his head. “No.”
“Now.”
“No.”
“Dis...dis, right now!” Aisha’s voice started to rise, and every head in the dining hall turned toward them.
“Make—” was as far as Tamlin got.
Aisha locked eyes with him and then pushed both palms forward together before separating her hands. Three things happened at once: the wall at Tamlin’s back tilted back and then broke apart, moving out from under him. Scruffknuckle raced behind him, and Perdemor lifted up onto his hind legs and put his forepaws on Tamlin’s thighs.
“Deeps-forsaken, shroom-shagging... Aysh!” Tamlin shouted as he went over.
Aisha swept her hands back together, bringing a low portion of the wall over the top of him. This she clambered onto and perched on, looking down at his face. “No be mean to Marsh and Roeglin.”
“Aysh!”
“Say sorry.”
“Get off the Deeps-be-damned wall and get it off me.”
Aisha settled her knees beneath her and looked down at him. “No.”
There were several quickly muffled bursts of laughter from behind her, but she ignored them. “Sorry.”
“You will be, you little wretch.”
Aisha swiveled around on her knees, clearly preparing to depart. “Bad Tams.”
“Hey!”
But she ignored him, sliding off the wall and coming down on the cafeteria side.
“Aisha!”
“Sorry?”
“What?”
“You sorry?”
“No! No, I Deeps-be-damned-well am not.”
“Come, Scruffy, Perdemor,” she commanded. “We go now.”
She turned away, looked around at those in the dining hall, and then pointed back at her brother. “No touch,” she ordered and walked quietly back to her table, where she picked up her hot chocolate and took a quiet sip.
“Better now?” she asked, turning to Marsh, and the room behind her dissolved into laughter.
Marsh let it die away before she said, “Why don’t you let your brother up?”
Aisha pursed her lips and shook her head. “Nope.”
Brigitte intervened. “Aisha...”
“Yes, Brij?”
“Tam—”
“Nope.”
They all stared at her and then looked at where Tamlin’s legs were sticking out from under the wall. They were surprisingly still. Marsh frowned, but Aisha sipped her chocolate, unperturbed. When Marsh hadn’t moved for several heartbeats, the child spoke. “Eat.”
Marsh picked up her shroom crescent, her frown deepening. “You’re awfully bossy this morning.”
“I’m little,” Aisha told her as though that explained it all, and she set her cup down, tugging on Brigitte’s sleeve. “We train?”
“Tamlin...” Brigitte began, and Aisha scowled.
“Marsh talk to Tamlin.”
Brigitte glanced across the room. Tamlin still hadn’t moved. He also remained ominously silent, and she shifted her gaze to Marsh. “Yes, I suppose she will.”
“She need to,” the little girl told her, slipping out of her chair as Zeb started choking on his kaffee.
Marsh looked up. Beside Zeb, Gerry was resting his head on their table, his shoulders shaking as he held his sides. Gustav sat opposite them, amusement and consternation chasing each other across his face.
You need to fix this, Roeglin murmured, and Marsh rolled her eyes. This was as much his fault as hers! True. I will be fixing it with you. Family, remember?
His words rang true, and Marsh recalled the conversation they’d had on leaving Dimanche—the one where she’d caught herself thinking of him as family and as needing one to keep him out of trouble.
Listen to who’s talking.
As much as she hated to admit it, Marsh thought he might be onto something. After all, Tamlin was hurting, and she’d missed just how much. Once Brigitte and Aisha had carried their plates over to the kitchen and left, she picked up her chocolate and her shroom crescent and strolled over to the hole in the wall.
“You know they’re going to have to fix that,” was not the greeting she expected from Tamlin.
“Good morning, Tams. Would you like another kaffee?”
He glared. “It’s not like I can drink it while I’m down here.”
Marsh arched her eyebrows and fought to keep her tone even. “Speaking of which...”
“I’m not sorry.”
She couldn’t help it. A small smile curved her lips and she sat down on the wall. “I know, but I am.”
He’d taken a breath to snap at her, but now he stopped. “You are?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re kinda right.”
“I know.”
Marsh wasn’t going to let him get away with that. “And you’re kinda wrong too.”
“Am not.”
She took a sip of her chocolate and nodded. “Uh-huh. You are.”
He frowned. “How?”
“Well, I have this family...” Marsh began.
“Too darn right, you do!”
Marsh ignored him. “But I made a mistake.”
Tamlin went very still, his face going as pale as a calla trunk and his eyes growing very wide.
For a heartbeat, Marsh wondered why, and then she realized what she’d said. “No, not you,” she hastened to reassure him. “Never you. Not Aisha either. Deeps, you two have to be one of the best things—and you’re definitely my family.”
She frowned. “No matter how horrible you are...either of you.”
Some of the color had returned to his face, and he scowled. “But...”
Marsh glanced over her shoulder, distracted by the scrape of chairs and the sound of movement. To her relief, Roeglin had remained sitting at the table, even if everyone else was getting up and putting their plates away before heading out the door.
Show’s over, Roeglin told her. They’re giving you guys some privacy.
And if Marsh thought it was about the Deeps-damned time, she didn’t say so. She looked back at Tamlin and found him looking back at her.
“But?” he prompted.
“But I’m starting to realize you’re not the only ones.”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, I already knew that!”
Marsh looked away, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I didn’t.”
He froze again, staring at her in shock. “You didn’t? How could you possibly miss it? No one else...”
Marsh held up her hand, knowing her face had turned crimson. “Enough!” she snapped, then forced her voice to more reasonable levels. “Enough. I didn’t, and now I do...and you’re not helping.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Like it’s all my fault. You’re the one who adopted us. There’s more to that than making sure we’re safe and fed, you know.”
“Really.” Marsh didn’t like the sarcasm she heard, but she didn’t hold back either. “Because, I don’t know, I figured I could just keep you as children forever too. What do you think?”
He was scowling again. “I think we’ve both apologized enough and you should let me out from under the wall.”
“You might be right about that,” Marsh told him, “but I’m not letting you out from under the wall.”
“Why not?”
Roeglin stepped to her side and Tamlin’s eyes widened. “Because I want to talk to you.”
The boy ga
ve an experimental wriggle but couldn’t get free. Roeglin sat down beside Marsh.
“Alone,” he said, catching her eyes.
She looked away, glancing down at Tamlin. His eyes begged her not to leave, but Roeglin laid a hand on her knee. “I promise not to eat him.”
Marsh sighed. They probably had to do this sometime. “Why not now?” she muttered and raised her hands. “Fine.”
She glanced at Tamlin, mischief spiking through her. “You listen to your papa.”
She was sorry the instant she’d said it, but the words couldn’t be taken back.
“My what? Oh, Deeps, no! You get back here!” As if he had a hope in all the Deeps of her going anywhere near Roeglin after saying something like that.
Yeah. Thanks a lot, Marsh.
But Marsh didn’t want to talk to Roeglin either. She wanted to be somewhere else—anywhere else—right now. She sighted on a patch of shadow and ran for it.
11
The Invasion Force
Marsh didn’t return to the training grounds. She figured Gustav could have her hide all he wanted, but she needed a moment. Besides, he could always ask Sulema where she was. The leader of Ariella’s Grotto could probably find her no matter where in the cavern she went.
She bounded from shadow patch to shadow patch, not really looking where she was going until she found a place on top of a set of boulders. They were wedged against a stalagmite, the moisture dripping from the ceiling having long since cemented them together.
Marsh found a ledge and leaned against the stalagmite, staring out over the cavern but seeing nothing of it. What had she done?
She stared some more and came back to the question, trying to answer it. She’d told Tamlin he was family. That bit was fine. She’d also made it clear that Aisha was family...and that bit was fine too.
She’d called Roeglin “papa,” as in Tamlin’s papa. What had that been about? She liked Roeglin, but that much?
That thought made her stop for a minute, and she remembered the warmth of his lips against hers. Well, maybe. She let her gaze drift, taking in the stands of callas clumped in pools of silver-blue light, the warm gold of the brevilars, and the darkness between. What had she done?
That was a question not so easily answered, so she continued to stare out at the cavern, scanning the shrooms and toadies and then farther, catching glimpses of what looked like fields closer to the center of the cavern...the part that would be under the open sky.
She looked up, tracing the sinkhole’s edge with her eyes. The sun was up in the Surface world. She could see the warmth of its glow lighting the leaves of the vines draping the edges of the pit. It drove away the shadows, revealing hollows of stone that served as nesting places for birds, but not lighting the armored figures sliding over the lip.
Marsh froze. She blinked and looked again. This time there was no mistaking what she was seeing. A swarm of figures was sliding over the edge above her. The morning sun revealed them as man-shaped shadows clinging to sturdy ropes that hung the cavern’s height.
Marsh drew the shadows around her, trying to ensure that her shape wasn’t silhouetted against the lighter rock around her. When no shouts echoed across the cavern, she stood, watching the soldiers descend a little farther before sighting on a patch of shadow.
She stepped out of it and paused. Where did she go from here?
She’d run so fast, she hadn’t paid attention to where she was going and couldn’t think of a single landmark that would help her find the way back.
“Sons of the Deeps!” She glanced up to where she knew there was the sky and caught the fleeting movement of those descending. “Merde!”
She looked around. Roeglin?
There was no reply, so she looked around again...and still couldn’t pick a likely direction.
“Merde! Merde! Merde!” She really needed to be back in Shamka, back in the dining hall. “Merde!”
She looked back at the descending raiders. There were more of them coming over the ledge. “Shadow’s Heart!”
She didn’t know why they were coming over the edge, but she was glad they hadn’t done their usual trick of opening a portal in the cavern. Maybe she’d been right about them needing a mage who’d been to a place. Maybe they’d killed everyone who’d already been.
They could only hope, right?
She took a deep breath. Well, she’d been to Shamka. She knew the town square as well as any visiting raider mage. She could picture it in her mind’s eye. All she had to do was remember how to get there.
The memory of a sponge flying through a window between her and Hawk’s Ledge came to mind, and she balked. She hadn’t been strong enough to hold it.
“For very long.” She reminded herself. “You couldn’t hold it for long.”
It struck her that she didn’t need to hold a gate to Shamka for long, just long enough to step through it. How did it go again? Turning her back on the raiders so she could concentrate, Marsh faced toward the cavern’s edge.
It was hard resisting the urge to look around as she pictured the outline of a doorway in front of her and then drew on the shadows to create it. As she did, she pictured Shamka’s square, its smooth stone floor, the door to the dining hall...
That was where she wanted to go. She wanted to open the shadow door and step right through to there. Realizing the door was still closed, Marsh reached forward and opened it. It was a little tricky to keep the town square pictured in her mind, but she did—and it was there when the door swung wide.
She was both relieved and elated when it was, even if her mental picture wasn’t quite correct. She’d forgotten the people, and she certainly hadn’t thought to imagine Roeglin and Tams stepping out of the dining hall. She could even hear them.
“Where’d you think she went?”
Well, that was a question she could answer. Taking a deep breath and holding the door open, Marsh worked to keep the square in focus as she stepped forward. There was a moment of disorientation, and then her foot hit the stone cobbles and she stepped through.
She looked up as shouts rose from around her. The people at the edge of the square were drawing weapons and running in her direction. Marsh looked for Roeglin and watched him pull a spear from the shadow.
“Merde!” Marsh dove sideways, losing her grip on the shadows as Roeglin’s spear flew through the space she’d occupied. Roeglin!
There was an outraged roar and Mordan appeared, but Marsh wasn’t taking any chances. The only problem was she didn’t know what to do. If she’d just opened a door into a raider encampment, she’d be pulling weapons from the darkness and raining lightning down on everyone around her, but she hadn’t.
And she couldn’t.
She hit the ground and rolled, coming up onto her feet two feet from Gustav.
“Deep’s britches, girl!” he roared, throwing his sword to one side instead of finishing his swing. “Poutain!”
This last came out as a shout as Mordan slammed into his side, knocking him to the ground. The kat ignored his outrage, hitting the ground astride him and then leaping for Marsh. She twisted as she launched, giving one of those direction-defying twists most cats used to get where they needed to be.
“Dan!” Marsh shouted as the kat snagged her with her claws and pushed her to the ground. She hit hard and Mordan landed on top, one paw flattening her to the ground.
Somewhere in the background, Roeglin was yelling too. “Hold fire! Hold fire!”
And Tamlin was adding to the chaos. “Get back!”
Marsh felt the shadows vibrate, and then the ground shuddered beneath her. Roeglin’s awed murmur of “Shadow’s Heart, boy...” was not comforting.
Aisha’s scream of “Stop!” echoed through their heads as well as their ears.
Aysh?
Marsh! “Marsh, Marsh, Marsh,” the little girl cried, running into the kat and then worming her way beneath it.
And I thought you couldn’t hear me in your head.
“I don�
�t like it in the head,” the child whispered, and Mordan lifted her foot.
The kat also retracted her claws as if she’d only just thought to do it and Marsh gasped. Her world swam. The hoshkat stooped down to lick the side of her face, then took her paw away and stepped to one side.
Marsh lay still, willing the pain to subside. Aisha was not impressed.
“Dan! You bad kitty.”
Mordan raised her lip and huffed out a breath, but she stayed close. Aisha covered the holes left by her claws, pressing her small palms down in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Marsh stifled another gasp, and the little girl frowned down at her.
“You...you a dumbass!” she said, and a tear slid down her cheek.
Roeglin gave a startled laugh as he came to look down at her. He caught sight of the blood seeping out from between Aisha’s fingers and dropped down beside her. “Let me see, kiddo.”
“See what?” Tamlin asked, and Marsh heard him backing up so he could see. “Dan!”
This time the kat uttered a short growl that sounded anything but repentant.
“A putain a vous!” Tamlin told her and Marsh opened her mouth to tell him off.
She couldn’t though because Aisha lifted her hands and Roeglin whistled. “Kat must really like you.”
That dragged a choked laugh out of her, but she really wasn’t feeling well. Not far from where she lay, someone groaned, and Roeglin, Aisha, and Tamlin turned their heads toward it. Seeing Gustav, they all shrugged as a single unit, though, and looked back at her.
“I’m fine,” she told them, and three sets of eyebrows lifted as one. “What...”
“You need a healer,” Roeglin corrected.
“Dumbass,” Aisha repeated, looking very pleased with herself.
“And that’s enough out of you, young lady,” Roeglin scolded and Aisha pouted. He ignored her and turned to Tamlin. “You’ll need to drop that wall, boy.”
Tamlin made a dismissive gesture with one hand just as they heard leather and metal scraping awkwardly over stone.
“Deeps be damned, kat,” Gustav grumbled, and Marsh heard two unsteady steps. “That damned well hurt.”
Trading by Shroomlight Page 10