by K.N. Lee
When they finished their drinks, Jack continued to lead her through the city, still holding her hand. Isabelle let him. The press of his palm and the strength of his fingers as they wrapped around hers felt good.
“Where are we going?” Isabelle asked.
“To find an inn,” he replied. “I’ll play my harp in the common room for payment if needed.”
He slowed a little, peering ahead. Isabelle followed his line of sight and saw a group of people gathered around someone or something. “Let’s go see,” she said, gently pulling him.
Jack complied, and they pushed their way through the press of bodies. A few Fabled Hunters were standing in the center, talking to the crowd of people, and it was then that Isabelle realized several of the bystanders were clearly agitated.
“What if he escapes?” one woman asked. She clutched the baby she was holding closer, as if squishing him would somehow keep the child safe. “I have a family. Children!”
“I have a business to run,” a thin reedy man whined. “Can’t you finish the job? Slit his throat.”
“Calm yourselves,” one of the Hunters said, putting his hands out in a peaceful gesture. “Rest assured you’re safe. The magical safeguards we’ve put up will ensure that he’s kept captive. You can be certain of that.” The Hunter was tall, with reddish-brown hair pulled back in a tail.
“Tyro?” Isabelle pushed through the remainder of the crowd. “Is that you?”
Tyro looked at her blankly for a moment before recognition crossed his face. “Ah, the witch-hunter. Isabelle, right? What brings you here?”
“I took your advice. I’m going to try my hand at the Hunter’s competition.”
“Excellent.” Tyro smiled. He glanced over Isabelle’s shoulder, his face hardening as his smile slipped away. “Is there a problem?”
“None.” Jack’s voice was tense and when Isabelle looked up at him, his jaw was clenched, his green eyes narrowed at the Hunter in undisguised anger.
“What’s going on here, Tyro?” Isabelle waved an arm toward the crowd. She didn’t know what had gotten into Jack, but hopefully she could keep things from escalating. “Why are people alarmed?”
Tyro’s expression became a mix of soberness and frustration. “A demon was attacking the walls on the other side of the city. He managed to rip some of it down. That was after he destroyed some farms and fields. The other Hunters and I were unable to kill him, but using magic we’ve been able to bind him.” He ran a hand distractedly through his hair. “Unfortunately it’s beyond our skillset to move him. I have sent for a mage from Illyminatym to transport him there. It will be a while, but overall it should be much safer to keep him there.”
“Where is he? Can I see him?” Isabelle couldn’t help but feel curious. What was a demon, anyway? What did one look like?
Tyro said, “Yes, we’re allowing people to see him. We’re hoping if others see he’s harmless, it will alleviate some of their fears. I can have Aviina show you. I have some business to attend to or I’d show you myself.”
Aviina was a short slender woman, the first female Hunter Isabelle had seen. She glowered sullenly at Isabelle, though Isabelle couldn’t imagine why. She observed the female Hunter curiously. Apparently the king only called the most powerful individuals to be Hunters, so it made sense most of them were male. As she followed the tiny woman, Isabelle wondered what it was about Aviina that made her special enough to be selected as one.
Isabelle started in surprise when Jack grabbed her hand again, this time his fingers clutching hers so tightly it hurt. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Stay away from that Hunter Tyro,” he muttered, his face flushed. “I don’t trust him.”
“Well, I do.” Isabelle frowned at him. “You were rude back there. Tyro has helped me before.”
Jack clenched his jaw, glaring at Aviina’s back as they followed her. They walked the remainder of the way in silence. Isabelle wondered about Jack’s behavior. What had brought it on? Was it something she’d said? Something Tyro said? She couldn't tell.
“Here we are.” Aviina stopped in front of a large dark building. Tall and imposing, it looked to be built of opaque glass, its color a dull gray.
“A shadowhold?” Even Jack seemed surprised, looking up at its dark splendor.
“What’d you expect, a common dungeon?” Aviina sneered at them with undisguised contempt. “Bars wouldn’t hold a demon.”
Isabelle stared up at the impressive structure. She’d heard of shadowholds where criminals were held, but not common thieves: sorcerers and magical creatures that used enchantment. Dark fae and—
“—demons,” she breathed.
“Yup.” Aviina strode up to the entrance. There wasn’t even a guard. “This way. Hurry. I don’t want to babysit you two all day.”
Jack must have been thinking the same thing as Isabelle. “Why no guard? That seems stupid.”
Aviina laughed wryly, smirking at him over his shoulder. “None that you can see, anyway.”
Isabelle shivered, suddenly feeling the press of unseen eyes on her back. Jack squeezed her hand reassuringly.
The hall was long and dark, splitting off down other passageways. Aviina took them up several flights of stairs, everything seemingly made of the same dull colored glass.
“He’s here.” She motioned to a dark opening cut into the wall. Two Hunters stood in front of it. The short woman eyed Isabelle and Jack with grudging respect. “Tyro’s tried to encourage the citizens of this city to come look at their attacker, but aside from a few reckless youngsters, you’re the only two brave enough. Most people don’t want anything to do with a shadowhold.” She turned her back on them and walked back the way they’d come, her boots ringing on the glass-like floor.
Isabelle glanced at Jack, who was looking at the entrance to the cell with some apprehension. “We don’t have to do this,” she said.
Jack glared at her. “I’m not afraid.” He walked inside past the two Hunters, pulling Isabelle with him.
The inside of the cell was dark and gloomy. A single torch burned at the entrance, but its light wasn’t strong enough to fill the room.
Isabelle blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness. She peered at the ground. Strange markings were etched on the floor, runes glowing lightly. Magic. The demon was being held with magic. She took a deep breath. Magic wasn’t uncommon but it was a rare individual who possessed the knowledge to bind someone to a room. Which Hunter had done that?
Isabelle’s gaze moved farther into the room. Someone crouched in the center, arms held outstretched to either side of him, held by glowing chains of enchantment. His hair caught the faint torchlight, shining silver. Isabelle frowned at the familiarity of the color. She took another hesitant step forward, her foot echoing slightly in the chamber. The man lifted his head, gazing into her eyes.
Blue. His eyes were blue.
He stared up at her, a slight smile on his lips.
Isabelle stumbled backward into Jack, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.
She was looking at the man who’d saved her from the siren.
13
Isabelle’s breath came in quick shallow gasps, her gaze fastened on the man shackled to the floor. Questions flooded her mind. Why was he here? What had he done? If he was evil, why did he save her? Why was he called a demon?
The man was silent as he looked back at her, his blue eyes tugging at her soul, compelling her to…
“Let’s go.” Jack turned to the exit. “He’s not nearly as threatening as I expected. What a disappointment.”
Isabelle followed him out, but not before turning back for one more look. The stranger hadn’t moved, his gaze locked unwaveringly on her.
The rest of the day passed with agonizing slowness. Isabelle knew she had to return. It hadn’t been the right time to talk to the man with Jack there and Hunters at the entrance, but she had questions that the stranger needed to answer.
Jack found a small inn. It was
probably the poorest one in the middle district, but still safer than any in the lower district. The innkeeper sniffed at their ragged appearance, but on learning Jack was willing to fill the common room with his music, was more than happy to give them two rooms, dinner and hot baths.
Isabelle reveled in the hot water. It’d been weeks since properly bathing, and it felt wonderful to wash away the buildup of dirt, sweat, and grime.
She spent the rest of the day in her room. Jack warned her about the dangers of the city, and told her not to leave without him. “I’ve spent a lot of time in cities,” he’d said. “They look exciting on the surface, but they make the woods safe by comparison.”
Isabelle sat at a small desk, swinging her legs idly as she waited for night to come. She’d already decided she was going to go and confront the stranger, whatever Jack thought. She shivered, thinking of the shadowhold. She hoped the invisible guards wouldn’t try to stop her. Even if she could get past them, she wasn’t sure what she’d do if there were still Hunters guarding the silver haired man. But she had to try.
He’d saved her. Why? If he was evil, why would he care enough to help her? A knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts, and she moved to answer it.
Jack stood in the doorway, his red hair tousled from washing it. He’d gotten dressed without drying and his shirt stuck to his chest and shoulders. He smiled. “Can I come in?”
Isabelle pulled the door open wider, and the young man sauntered in, walking over to peer out the window. “Not a very good view, is it?” It showed the stables.
Isabelle shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
“Have you been thinking of quests?” Jack sat on the edge of her bed. He seemed agitated, but Isabelle couldn’t see why.
Isabelle nodded. “A little. I haven’t been out in the city enough to hear any rumors. Pity we didn’t show up sooner. Perhaps we could have helped the Fabled Hunters with the demon.” She paused. “Why call him a demon? I thought that was just another word for spirits.” Evil spirits.
“It is,” Jack said. “Most likely they thought he was possessed.” He snorted. “We would have mopped the floor with him. He didn’t look so tough. He’s probably just a brigand. Not a real demon.”
Isabelle raised an eyebrow, crossing the distance to sit next to him. “You heard Tyro. This man is capable of destroying crops, fields, even part of the city wall. That sounds pretty tough to me.”
Jack nodded, but was looking at Isabelle, a strange look in his eyes that she couldn’t read. “This Tyro,” he said, “are you two good friends?”
“As good of friends as two can be when they’ve only met a handful of times.”
Jack still looked on edge and Isabelle felt a smile bloom on her face. “Jack. You can’t be jealous. Are you?”
Jack stiffened. His face flushed, betraying his emotion. “No. I’m not.”
“Jack.”
He hunched his shoulders. “Maybe a little. I doubt he deserves you.”
Isabelle chuckled dryly, unable to keep the bitterness out of her tone. “I’m no catch. I can’t sew, can hardly cook. I spend my free time practicing archery. My mother—” Her voice caught.
“Isabelle.” Jack edged closer, so they were separated only by a few inches. “Stop it. You’re brave, resourceful, and clever. Daring. It doesn’t matter what you’re not, focus on who you are.” He smiled awkwardly, as if embarrassed by his speech. He stood. “I’m going to check out some of the lower district taverns and see what news I can glean from them before performing in the common room.”
“Why don’t I come down and watch you later?” Isabelle asked. Jack shook his head.
“Better not. You don’t want to rub elbows with the sort who fill a bar in the evening. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Isabelle frowned at him as he left. He’d been acting protective of late. Why?
A maid arrived a few minutes later with the evening meal; a thin stew with carrots, potatoes, and onion. The meat looked like beef. It felt like a long time since she’d had beef. It was a rare thing, even in Seabound, and her mother would only purchase it for special occasions. Isabelle felt a pang in her stomach thinking of her family. Were they all right? Had her father been able to find suitable work? They wouldn’t have to worry about providing for her, but what if they’d needed her money more than her absence? She pushed her tray away, feeling ill. She had to win the tournament. Or if not win, come close. It was common for the king to select a small handful of contestants to become Fabled Hunters every year, not just the champion. They were always nobles though. Isabelle wondered why he’d decided to allow commoners in the games this year.
She thought of Jack and smiled. They would both win this year. Working together they would not fail. They’d find a way.
14
At dusk, Isabelle donned her cloak and left her room, walking down the narrow hallway that led to the staircase. Hurrying down, she crossed the common room, ignoring some of the stares and whistles some of the drunken patrons gave her. Jack wasn’t there, which meant he was still searching for rumors, hoping to find a quest for them.
Stepping outdoors, Isabelle breathed the night air deeply. It wasn’t as fresh as the forest, but still better than the stifling confinements of the inn.
She walked through the city, head down. She wasn’t tall, and her red cloak didn’t stand out in the plethora of color that the citizens of Erum wore, but she didn’t want to attract attention just the same.
The shadowhold. She’d taken special care to watch where she was going when she and Jack left so she was able to locate the man’s prison without difficulty. Standing before it, Isabelle shuddered. What sort of evil creatures were locked away in its halls? Steeling herself, she walked up the massive steps and went in, feeling the prickling sensation of being watched by unseen eyes.
Two Hunters still stood guard by the entrance. Isabelle clicked her tongue in annoyance, ducking back into the side hall she’d come around, thinking. How was she going to distract them long enough to talk to the stranger?
“He’s escaped! Quick, find him!” one of the Hunters yelled, his voice cracking with urgency. The two ran down the hall in the opposite direction of Isabelle.
Isabelle slumped against the wall. She’d come too late. He was gone. Perhaps he’d left a hint as to where he’d gone, though.
Unslinging her bow, Isabelle walked to the prison’s entrance. Nocking an arrow, she leaped into the cell. She stumbled and her arrow slipped from her grasp, clattering to the hard floor. She slowly stepped forward and picked it up, peering into the blackness before her.
The cell was dark. The torch still burned fitfully at the entrance, but its light didn’t go far and Isabelle couldn’t see the man. But she could sense him.
“You’re in here,” she said.
The runes glowed brightly for a brief moment before fading to their normal dull light.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Isabelle.” Her name was a caress, and the strange man suddenly appeared, crouching on the floor, his wrists shackled. His blue eyes looked deep into her own, eyes so blue they were almost violet. Isabelle frowned. They were violet. She could have sworn they were blue the last time they met.
“How do you know my name?” Isabelle’s voice came out a breathless whisper.
The man smiled. “I know all about you.” His gaze never left hers. “I know your love for archery and adventure. About your wild, free soul. You value freedom, more than anything, even if it means disappointing your family. Abandoning them.”
He smirked at Isabelle’s crestfallen expression. “Don’t look so sad. We all make our choices. Is freedom so bad?”
“I didn’t abandon them,” Isabelle protested, gripping the smooth leather handle of her bow. “I’m going to help them.”
“You should have stayed,” the stranger said. “It would have been safer.”
“Why did you help me?” Isabelle demanded. She was running out of time. The Hunters could come back at any mo
ment. “If you’re the kind of beast to be kept in a shadowhold, why did you save me from the siren?”
“You needed assistance,” the man said simply. “I’m not the sort of individual to let a woman drown.”
“If that’s really the case, why are you here?” Isabelle waved her arm to indicate the cold room. “I’ve heard what they call you. Demon.”
He shrugged, his chains clanking. “Perhaps it was a misunderstanding.”
“Perhaps you could just stay here.”
The man tossed his head angrily, his silver hair falling about his face. “The Hunters will be back soon.” He jerked his chin toward the glowing runes. “We’re running low on time. Smudge one. With your hand.”
“What will it do?” The hairs on the back of her neck rose.
“To you, nothing.” His face was expressionless. “To me, it will loosen the magic around me, allowing me to leave this wretched place.”
“Magic?” Isabelle shifted her feet. She was beginning to think coming here had been a mistake.
“You owe me, Isabelle.” The man’s face twisted in anger, his eyes flashing. “Let me go.”
“Why did you try to destroy the city?” Isabelle asked. She clutched her bow to her chest as if it could keep her safe. Despite the fact that the man was chained to the floor, she didn’t feel safe.
The man’s shoulders slumped and he looked away. “I overestimated my strength,” he muttered. “I thought I was strong enough to help them, and I wasn’t.” He lifted his gaze to her again, his eyes pleading. “Free me, and I promise to leave the city immediately. I won’t attack the Hunters. Free me, Isabelle. Please.”
That please tore at her heart. Before she knew what she was doing, she knelt on the floor, examining the runes. “I hope I don’t regret this.” She reached out a tentative hand and touched the rune closest to her. The dull gleam of the rune faded on contact and winked out of existence. The rest of the runes disappeared as well.