by Jen McIntosh
‘Lucan—’ he began.
Lucan cut him off. ‘No. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t know what you are, but you’re not human, and you’re not my father.’
‘Lucan,’ his mother admonished.
‘It’s alright,’ murmured Alvar, sheathing his sword. ‘You’re right. I’m not human, and I’m not your father. But you know from Renila’s stories that not all monsters are evil. I’m here to help and protect you, Lucan – you and Gaelan and your sister – and I promise that when you’re safe, I’ll explain everything to you. But I need you to trust me and come with us.’
‘You lied to me.’
Alvar cast a dark look in the Lady’s direction, a muscle leaping in his jaw. ‘I never claimed to be your father, Lucan. That was someone else’s inference.’
‘But you didn’t tell me the truth.’
‘I know,’ he admitted, ‘and I’m sorry for that. My hands were tied and my choices not my own. But I spoke true when I said that I was proud of you, Lucan, and that you had already earned my love and my trust. I may not be your father, but I was there the day you were born. It was my hands that brought you into this world, my hands that helped you take your first breath. I swore to your mother that I would protect you. If you trust nothing else, trust that I will not break my vows.’
Lucan was quiet for a long time, considering his words. Then he nodded and allowed himself to be led from the room.
They flitted down the hallway to Suriya’s room and stood guard outside while his mother disappeared inside and helped his sister dress. When they emerged, Suriya’s face was pale, and her eyes were damp, but there was a steeliness there that he hadn’t seen before. Her jaw was clenched in determination, and she walked straight to him, took his hand in her own and gave a reassuring squeeze. She was wearing the garnet necklace again, but he didn’t ask. He was too relieved that the distance that had grown between them had evaporated with her touch. Instinct had him reaching out with his mind, re-establishing their bond once more.
‘Do you think we can trust him?’ he asked her, relaying the conversation he’d witnessed between Alvar and Lady Gaelan.
She frowned but nodded. ‘Everything is going to be alright. I promise.’
‘Take this,’ said Alvar, handing a large dagger to Lucan and a smaller one to Suriya. Lucan took it without hesitation, but Suriya paused, eyeing it from beneath lowered brows. It was curved, with an ornate hilt and a large red jewel set in the pommel.
‘I’ve seen that before,’ she whispered.
Alvar flinched and looked to the Lady, but their mother only shook her head in confusion.
‘You cannot possibly have seen this dagger before, Suriya,’ he told her. ‘It has been in my keeping for more than a hundred years.’
Lucan blinked. ‘How long?’
‘Never mind,’ Alvar snapped, forcing the dagger into the girl’s hands. ‘If you recognise this, then it was meant for you, Suriya. Now let’s go.’
But Suriya didn’t move. She was eyeing their mother with suspicion and disgust while she tested the weight of the dagger in her hand. ‘You, I trust,’ she told Alvar. Then she turned to her mother. ‘But not you.’
Lucan flinched and looked incredulously at her, but their mother got their first.
‘There are Darklings approaching as we speak, Suriya. We have to leave,’ she said.
‘And why should I trust you?’ Suriya demanded, her voice deadly quiet. ‘You’ve lied to us our entire lives. Mother.’
Lucan grabbed Suriya’s hand.
‘What are you talking about?’ he thought into her mind. At first, he didn’t think she’d heard him, but then he felt the wall come down.
‘I heard them. The day I collapsed at dinner. She came to our rooms while you were asleep. They argued. About Renila and the stories … and us. He said we weren’t her children.’ Her words in his head were tinged with bitterness, but beneath it, he could sense the hurt. The heartbreak. He turned to his mother in horror, and although she flinched from the look on his face, she didn’t deny it.
Then Alvar was between them, cutting the argument off before it could start. ‘We don’t have time for this. None of us are blameless in this mess, but right now, it’s a question of survival. You don’t have to trust us, but it changes nothing. I will do everything in my power to keep you alive, even if it means going against your wishes. It’ll go a lot easier on everyone if you just do as you’re told, but the result will be the same. The four of us – along with Renila and Erion – are leaving this keep and going somewhere safe. Somewhere that not even the Shade King himself can reach. Do you understand me?’ Lucan nodded reluctantly, vaguely aware of Suriya echoing his acceptance beside him. ‘Good. Now let’s go.’
The alarm bells were tolling through the keep. The guards thundered through the castle while the clamour called them to their posts. Captain Farran stood in the middle of the entrance hall barking orders as Suriya descended the staircase behind the Lady.
Farran’s words stuck in his throat when his gaze fell on the Lady, and Suriya could only offer him a sympathetic glance. She’d been just as unnerved by the trained efficiency with which the Lady had donned armour as he was at seeing her wear it. The Lady’s starlight hair was braided back from her face but the rest was left unbound to tumble over her shoulders. And now, she was fastening a sword belt around her slender hips with practised ease while she took in the commotion.
‘My Lady,’ the Captain said, choking on his words.
The Lady’s face was long-suffering, and she held up a hand to halt his protests. ‘Save it. They’re through the outer wards already. It won’t take them long to reach us. We have to evacuate the castle.’
‘And go where, my Lady?’ asked Farran, taking the sudden changes in his stride as best he could.
‘Up into the mountains,’ the Lady replied, her eyes scanning the crowd, searching. ‘The Darklings approach from the west, so the path east should be clear. They can skirt north around the Nightloch and head south after that. Make for Shadowbriar.’
‘You won’t be joining them?’
‘They need as much time as we can give them, Captain,’ she said. ‘We need to hold the Hunt’s attention here while we can … and when the defences fall, we will have to do what we can to draw the Hunt away. Lord Alvar and I will ride north. It’s us they’re looking for, so they’ll follow.’
‘And your children?’ Farran asked, his voice trembling with tension. The Lady fixed him with the full force of her terrifying gaze, letting the other-worldly power in her veins show through, and Suriya saw the Captain shrink back in fear.
‘Suriya and Lucan will stay with my husband and I,’ she insisted. She breezed past him and called over her shoulder. ‘Give the order, Captain.’
Farran snapped a salute, afforded Suriya a lingering glance, and marched away. Suriya scowled and followed in the Lady’s wake. Lucan had gone with Lord Alvar to oversee the defences, so she was left to face the woman they had once called ‘Mother’, alone. She hurried to close the distance, and as she drew up alongside the Lady, she thumbed the dagger Lord Alvar had given her.
‘What about Renila and Erion?’ she asked.
The Lady glanced down at her and pursed her lips. ‘Where do you think we’re going now?’
‘Renila’s room is that way,’ Suriya reminded her, pointing in the opposite direction.
‘I’m well aware,’ the Lady snapped, before pointing in the direction they were heading. ‘Erion, however, is that way.’
Suriya almost stopped in her tracks. She wasn’t sure the Lady had ever said his name out loud before, let alone considered him first. The Lady seemed to sense her shock and glanced back over her shoulder.
‘You don’t have to trust me, Suriya, but at least trust that I wouldn’t leave an innocent child to face certain death.’
Suriya had no comeback to that, so she allowed herself to be swept along behind the Lady as they wove their way through the castle.
&nbs
p; Erion stood guard outside Farran’s chambers, watching a harassed-looking maid pack various gowns for the Captain’s wife within. The sight of him in his armour, with a sword strapped to his side, made Suriya want to weep. The harsh planes of his helmet only emphasised the childish roundness to his face, the over-large sword making him appear even smaller. He was a boy. Too young for battle.
His face remained impassive as the Lady approached, with not even a flicker of recognition when he spotted Suriya behind her. Offering a hasty bow, he kept his eyes on the floor. Suriya had to resist the urge to hug him. He wouldn’t thank her. Not after what the Lady had made her do to him. A glance at the Lady told her the woman was sorry, but that she didn’t have time to fix it.
‘You’re relieved, soldier,’ said the Lady. ‘I need you to go down to the stables and see to the horses. Alvar has asked for them to be saddled and packed for a long journey. Please ensure his orders have been followed to the letter.’
Erion’s storm-grey eyes swirled to a ferocious-yellow as he held her gaze. To his credit, he didn’t blink. ‘Who will be travelling, my Lady?’
‘Myself, Alvar, Suriya, Lucan,’ the Lady said, Erion’s brow lowering at every name, ‘Renila and yourself.’
He flinched when she finished and opened his mouth to speak.
But Suriya cut him off, clutching at his hand. ‘We don’t have time, Erion. Please just do as she says.’
The expression on Erion’s face made her stomach heave with self-loathing, and when he pulled his hand free of her grip, she thought she felt a piece of her heart wither and die. Then he turned those terrible, wolf-yellow eyes on the Lady.
‘One day, my Lady,’ he promised, his voice soft and deadly and far beyond his years, ‘you will answer for all you’ve done here.’
Then he bowed again – smoother this time, mocking even – before he turned and left. The Lady stood frozen, staring at the space he had just vacated with a haunted look in her eyes. Tears streaked her cheeks, and she took a deep, shuddering breath that seemed to say she agreed with him.
Suriya kept silent. Even if she’d known the words to comfort the Lady, she would not have offered them. The Lady did not deserve it.
Lucan watched on helplessly while the other inhabitants of the castle made ready to leave. His people, the people who had helped raise him, who had cared for him his entire life. Mal was in the kitchens, booming orders as she oversaw the packing of supplies. Alec was helping the farmers load their wagons in the courtyard. Two of the maids herded the children together in the entrance hall, bundling them up in extra hats and scarves to protect against the cold of the night.
Thunder rumbled in the background, and Lord Alvar strode from the castle into the courtyard. His armour gleamed in the torchlight, and magic was churning beneath his skin. Captain Farran followed behind him, barking orders to his men.
Erion stood in the stable door, his serious gaze watching from beneath the rim of his oversized helmet. Wolf-yellow eyes turned to storm-grey when they settled on Lucan, but he offered a small smile that was oddly reassuring. Slipping through the throng, he crossed the courtyard to Lucan’s side.
‘The horses are all ready to go,’ he murmured.
‘Good.’ Lucan wasn’t sure if it was or not, but he didn’t know what else to say.
Erion seemed to sense his uncertainty and scowled. ‘We’re not leaving with the others?’
‘No.’
Erion shook his head in disgust. ‘I don’t know what game your mother is playing, but it’s a dangerous one,’ he warned, ‘and it’s likely to get us all killed.’
‘She’s not my mother,’ whispered Lucan, not daring to glance at his friend.
Erion stilled beside him. ‘What?’
Lucan shrugged, at a loss to explain something he barely understood himself. ‘Suriya … she … she overheard the Lady and Alvar talking. They’re not our parents.’
‘Then who is?’ asked Erion.
‘I don’t know,’ Lucan admitted with a bitter smile. ‘Maybe if we live through this, she’ll tell me.’
Stunned silence filled the air between them. Then Erion let out a huffed breath and swore, before he burst out laughing. Lucan stared at him for a moment before joining him. They laughed until their sides hurt, clinging on to each other for support while they doubled over. And when Alvar tried to quell them with a murderous glare, they only laughed harder.
They sobered of their own volition, and Erion looked about him. ‘So, what’s the plan?’
‘We hold them here as long as we can while the others escape up into the hills – give them as much of a head start as we can. Then Mother—’ He broke off with a soft curse. ‘The Lady,’ he corrected, ‘means for us, Alvar, Renila and Suriya to leave together. She thinks we can outrun them and draw them away from the keep.’
Erion’s eyebrows quirked upward. ‘That seems unlikely.’
‘She’s confident.’
His friend smirked. ‘Isn’t she always?’
Suriya hovered behind the Lady, atop the highest tower, while the Lady peered into the night. The clamour of the chaos down in the courtyard echoed up to them, but the Lady hardly seemed to notice. Suriya glanced to her right, exchanging a worried glance with Renila.
They’d found her in the entrance hall, herding the children together. She’d taken one look at the Lady’s murderous expression and gestured for two of the maids to take over, before falling into step behind the Lady without question. She hadn’t so much as blinked at the Lady’s brutal description of what they faced nor flinched from her blunt explanation of the perilous plan they’d concocted to survive it. Suriya wasn’t sure what to make of it. Though Renila was hardly prone to hysterics, her current composure was … disturbing. Even watching her now, glancing over the parapet to the courtyard below, there was something eerie about it.
Suriya wasn’t sure what frightened her more – the looming threat of Darklings, or that people she’d known her entire life now seemed strangers to her. She wished she could be with her brother, but the Lady had insisted on separating them. Gods only knew why. They were fools to trust her.
A muttered curse drew her attention back before her thoughts could spiral any further. Beside her, the Lady frowned while she gazed into the darkness.
‘What’s wrong?’
The Lady bared her teeth in a silent snarl. ‘They’re here.’
‘I can’t see anything.’
‘That’s because you’re looking with your eyes,’ she snapped. Then her gaze grew distant, her face glazing with a vacant expression – as though she was no longer present in her own body.
Suriya frowned. What if … she could speak to Lucan mind-to-mind, could she not? She’d seen through his eyes. Shared his thoughts. Felt his emotions as though they were her own. Perhaps the mind was not so bound by the body as she had once believed. She closed her eyes and tried to reach out with it. It was disturbingly easy, just like stretching out a limb, one she’d never realised she had, but no less a part of herself. Shock almost had her tumbling back into her body. How was this even possible?
Another presence caught her attention, drawing her up into the night sky and out to the edge of the Ravenswood. It was the Lady’s mind, watching in silence as the monsters approached.
Darklings.
Dozens of them, swarming like flies around a carcass as they cavorted through the woods. Magic crackling and sparking from fingertips and red eyes glowing like blood in the darkness.
Without warning, one stopped, eyes snapping skyward and honing in on Suriya’s mind drifting above them. His brow was marred with that same peculiar star-shaped birthmark that Lucan had, and he was breathtakingly beautiful. He shouted in warning to another. A woman – the leader, judging by how the others moved around her – with the same strange, tapered ears as Suriya. The woman’s slanted eyes narrowed, and a barked order had those around her stilling. The ground around her froze, coating her in hoarfrost while daggers of ice formed in her hands. The s
tar-marked Darkling smiled, his lips tinged with blood as he looked back at Suriya. There was only death in that red gaze.
Then the Lady was between them, swallowing Suriya’s presence within her own. The Darkling blinked in surprise, frowning in confusion as he scanned around for her. But whatever the Lady had done, he found nothing and broke off with a hiss of frustration. Suriya barely dared to breathe while the Lady’s mind held her tight, waiting and waiting for the Darklings to move on. They continued on, and the Lady released an audible sigh of relief.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’
‘I wanted to see.’
‘You could have got yourself killed!’ the Lady snapped, holding tight when Suriya tried to pull away. ‘Be still. They can’t sense me, but if you keep drawing attention to yourself, even my shields won’t keep you hidden for long.’
Suriya growled but did as she was bid. ‘Why can’t they see you?’
‘Wielding magic is like any skill – it takes time and training to gain proficiency. I’ve had a lot of both,’ the Lady said. Her attention was fixed on the Darklings. With a barked curse, she retreated and called back to Alvar in warning. ‘They’ve reached the wards.’
‘How many?’ came his terse reply.
‘A hundred at least. All Graced. Some are holding back, out of range, in the forest. I can’t see the Shade …’ She trailed off. Because there he was. A figure wreathed in flames of shadow, stalking through the Darkling ranks. He came to a halt beside the pointy-eared woman, his head cocked to the side as he considered some unseen force. Then he raised his hands, and the Lady reeled back, shouting out in warning, ‘Brace!’
Suriya’s mind crashed back into her body, just as the world gave a violent lurch. Shadow-flame slammed into some invisible barrier in the sky above, the noise of the impact drowning out even the booming thunder. The world seemed to shudder at that assault, and somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she heard Lucan swearing as the ground shook beneath his feet. His mind invaded hers once more, his senses overwhelming her while he and Erion grabbed on to the nearest wall to stop themselves from falling. Alvar was the only one who stayed on his feet, his head thrown up as he snarled in frustration. Lightning split the sky, and thunder roared as if in answer.