Sisters of Shadow and Light

by Sara B. Larson

  I sat at the armoire to brush out the tangles in my hair but instead found myself staring out the window at the busy courtyard below, the roofs of the city visible past the hedge spreading down the hillside like melted butter, and the sky-scraping mountains beyond. The enormity of being in a different world washed over me again, vastly terrifying and exhilarating all at once. There was too much to take in, too much to worry over, too much to fear. The temptation of a nap—of letting my frantic mind shut down for at least a little while—sounded much more appealing than I’d originally thought.

  Ignoring the call of the bed, I set down the brush, quickly braided my hair back, then thought better of it and took it down again and headed for the door.

  I was done waiting.

  The hallway was empty, and I had no idea where to go or what I even intended to do. I just knew I had to do something—I had to find a way back to my sister. And the fear that I refused to fully acknowledge was that the council would tell me no, as they apparently had my father.

  So I walked and I tried to come up with a plan, though I knew, deep down, that I had no control here. I had no way of getting back to my sister unless this council said yes.

  I passed doors and hallways and Paladin who paused and glanced or halted and outright stared, but I ignored them all and kept walking, moving, doing something … even if it was just … wandering. The castle was a marvel; golden ceilings soared overhead, deliciously bright paintings adorned the clean white walls, and nearly everywhere I looked diamonds decorated and adorned furniture, tables, vases, statues—I even wondered if they were embedded in the flooring, if that’s what made it shimmer in the squares of sunshine from the skylights.

  The castle seemed to be built as though it were encircling something; every hallway curved. The closer to the center of the building, the more dramatic the curve. I was hopelessly lost and couldn’t have found my way back to my room even if I’d wanted to, but there was a pulse within me, separate from my heartbeat, something different, but still a part of me somehow … and it urged me inward, deeper into the castle. I let it pull me toward the middle—toward whatever this castle had been built around. The closer I got to the center, the stronger that strange pulse became and the more I wanted to follow it.

  Finally, I found a connecting hallway that cut straight to the center of the castle. The entire place was full of skylights, letting in plenty of daylight and illuminating the hallways. But the light at the end of this hallway was different. It came from within the castle, not outside, and it … glowed. I could almost feel the warmth of it, even from where I stood, staring—but not on my skin, underneath it somehow, inside me.

  Everything within me urged me closer, yet my steps slowed, expecting someone or something to block me from passing through the arched opening into whatever room lay beyond.

  But nothing and no one ever came.

  I stepped through the archway into a room that surpassed any ability I possessed to ever describe. The domed ceiling soared high above where I stood, made entirely of glass so that at first glance it appeared as though there were no ceiling at all, only a vast expanse of endless blue sky. The floor I stood on only continued forward the length of five or six strides and then came to a balustrade—the entirety of which was made of diamond—which in and of itself was beyond comprehension. And beyond that, there was nothing. Nothing except pure, brilliant light.

  It filled the entire room, refracting through the massive diamond railing, shattering into a million more dazzling shards that danced on the walls, the floor, my arms, and in my eyes.

  “Remarkable, isn’t it?”

  I choked on a half-emitted squeak of shock and whirled to see a tall male Paladin standing a few feet away. He was quite a bit older than my father, he had deep lines etched in the grooves of his mouth and near his eyes, and yet he exuded a vitality and energy that took me by surprise. He also looked a lot like—

  “I’m sorry if I startled you, Zuhra, but I had to meet you.” His burning blue eyes were somehow gentle when they met mine, gentle and … full of wonder. “I couldn’t believe it when Ederra first told me, and yet, here you are.

  “After eighteen years, I finally get to meet my granddaughter.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  INARA

  At the sight of the man who had locked me up only a few hours prior, I froze so fast Halvor crashed into me from behind, making me stumble forward farther into the room. Halvor whirled on Barloc.

  “What is this?” he thundered—the loudest and angriest I’d ever heard him.

  “I didn’t know! They promised they only wanted her to help…” Barloc had blanched, going nearly as white as the streaks in the hair he wore long and pulled back from his face.

  I still hadn’t moved; a mouse caught in the sights of a cat.

  “You get one chance,” Javan said, his dark eyes trained on mine. “Heal him and I will let you go. Fail and…” He didn’t have to finish his sentence. I already knew what awaited me with the sunrise.

  Death.

  I nodded, my tongue too thick in my mouth for a response.

  His cold gaze followed me as I moved forward on numb feet, my blood spinning through my body in a dizzying rush. This was all still so foreign to me; I knew I had the ability to heal him … but what if it didn’t work this time? What if I failed—in front of Javan and the boy’s family?

  The skin between my nose and my lip grew damp and I swallowed as I stopped by the side of the bed, staring down at the boy’s face. His dark hair was plastered to his head, his skin sheened with sweat, but he was as gray as ash. His chest lifted and fell with great sucking sounds and the smell of rot hovered over his body. Infection had grabbed him and far too quickly. He looked Zuhra’s age, maybe a little older. But the violent tear through his abdomen was quickly stealing any future of unknown promise from him.

  I can do this. I can do this.

  “Do you need anything?” His mother hovered so close, the added heat from her body in the already too hot room was almost more than I could stand. There were so many people pressing toward me—watching me. “Water? Cloths? Herbs?”

  I shook my head. “No.” I forced the word out, but said no more when even that one word came out a tremulous whisper.

  “She needs space,” Halvor announced suddenly. “She can’t do this with all of us crowding her.”

  “She bloody well better hurry,” someone growled, but I couldn’t tell who it was over the thundering of my own heartbeat in my ears.

  Finally, I took a deep breath, reached out shaking hands, and pressed them onto the boy’s exposed rib cage. His skin burned to the touch, but beneath the raging, angry fever, a terrible, endless cold had already begun to take its place deep within him, unfurling within his bones and seeping out to the rest of his body. He was minutes from death.

  Vague sounds of the others talking faded from my awareness, becoming little more than a distant, low rumble as my focus turned inward, to the flicker of power that awakened in me the moment I put my hands on the dying boy’s chest. The relief that my power responded so quickly this time was almost as intense as my fear had been. Either I was getting better at summoning and using it, or the forced break from accessing it in the jail cell had been what I needed for it to respond faster; it didn’t matter which, only that it was there, that I could use it to save this boy.

  As before, the burning heat of it grew within me, hotter and hotter, until it exploded out through my veins, down my arms, to my hands, and into the boy’s body. Distant gasps were little more than wisps on the periphery of my hearing. There was only me and the boy and the need to chase away death before it claimed him as its victim.

  It almost felt familiar this time as I sent my power through his skin, muscles, veins, and bones, as I insinuated myself into his body, seeking out the injuries, the infection, the pain that held him deep beneath the surface of consciousness. And as I worked, as I healed, as I burned and shuddered with his pain, I also learned—I felt his
desperation to impress his father, his love for his mother, his guilt at wanting to leave this place, his fear of hurting her when he did. I saw flashes of his life. Just as I had with Halvor, I felt … him.

  I had no way of knowing how long it took, but finally, the boy began to stir and, with a gasp as the connection broke, I reeled my power in and pulled my hands free of his body. The force of the separation sent me stumbling back a couple of steps until strong arms encircled me, halting my fall. I recognized the feel of his hands and the smell of his skin even before Halvor murmured, “You did it. You truly are a marvel,” in my ear, his arms tightening briefly before he released me.

  “Malim!” The mother’s cry sent a wave of warmth through me, despite the exhaustion that made it hard to even remain standing, as she rushed to her son’s side. His eyes fluttered and opened just as she threw her arms over his now perfect skin. Malim. It struck me then—the oddness of realizing I’d just healed him—had learned some of his deepest feelings and thoughts in the process—without even knowing his name.

  “She did it. She actually did it.” Barloc’s whisper drew my attention as I slowly came back to myself. He’d spoken so quietly, almost as if it had only been to himself—an internal thought he hadn’t quite realized came out of his mouth. But his eyes were on me. He was visibly awed, lit up by a fervency that bordered on … worshipful. It was a little … unsettling.

  I sought out Javan as the family surged forward, surrounding the boy’s bed. The bearded man leaned against the wall, his eyes wide and his hands hanging beside his large body. When my gaze met his he merely gave me a brief nod, but I didn’t miss the moisture gleaming in his dark eyes.

  “We should go,” Halvor said from behind me.

  “Where are you going to take her?” Javan moved toward us, his voice pitched low to keep from disturbing the tearful reunion at Malim’s bedside. “A runner has already been dispatched to summon King Varick’s garrison—they will know of your existence within the next day or two, if not sooner.”

  “King Varick?” I repeated, not understanding the reason for the tightness in Javan’s voice or the quick, darting looks he kept shooting out the darkened window, as if he expected this garrison to show up for me here and now, right in the middle of the night.

  “Let’s talk out here.” Halvor gestured for us to go out in the hallway, leaving the family with their son.

  Once Javan had exited and shut the door behind him, he turned to face me, Halvor, and Barloc. In the small space he loomed, like the mountains towering over the citadel. The darkness curled over him, wrapping around him like a familiar cloak.

  “You did as you said, and for that I … thank you,” Javan spoke haltingly, as if the words scraped on their way out. “But though I will keep my word and allow you to leave this night, I must warn you that I can’t stop the garrison. They will hunt you down and if they find you, they will kill you. No matter what you may or may not be able to do.”

  My shoulders caved forward and a shudder snaked down my spine. “But … why?” I was weak from the effort of healing the boy; my power was banked, only embers flickered deep within. But the effects seeped out of the rest of my body, leaving me chilled and barely able to remain standing. Yet his words still sent a rush of adrenaline through me; my legs trembled with the instinctual need to flee. “Why does everyone want me dead?”

  “His father, King Velfron, had a … complicated history with the Paladin,” Halvor haltingly explained, a new tightness at the corners of his mouth following Javan’s announcement. “After the rakasa were eliminated from our lands, King Velfron issued the ‘Treason and Death Decree.’ The garrisons that had worked side by side with the Paladin to keep our people safe were suddenly ordered to turn on all their former friends who hadn’t immediately returned to Visimperum. Many of the remaining Paladin were accused of crimes, many without any basis whatsoever. They were hunted down and murdered for those ‘crimes.’”

  My eyes widened and I swallowed hard to push the lump in my throat down. “Didn’t they help everyone? I thought they saved Vamala. I thought they…”

  “They did. There are rumors about what made the king choose to turn on them, but now’s not the time to go into all of that,” Barloc interjected. “We need to get her away from this place, especially if the garrison has already been summoned.”

  “I hope you two have a plan.” Javan looked over my head to the men hovering behind me.

  “We do,” Halvor said, curt now for some reason. “And we’d better be going.”

  His hand brushed my lower spine, a slight pressure pushing me back the way we’d come, past Javan to the kitchen and the door.

  I gulped down the terror from the image in my mind of row after row of men like Javan, all hunting for me, all intent on killing me, and forced my legs to move, carrying me past the now silent jailer. His dark gaze followed me; I could feel the keen focus of it even when he was behind me.

  We’d almost reached the kitchen when I heard the bedroom door open and a female voice ask, “Did she already go?”

  “Almost” was Javan’s reply, and I turned just in time to see the mother hurrying toward us, with her arms outstretched.

  She grabbed me into a hug, burying her tear-streaked cheeks in my dirty hair. I stood stiffly for a moment, shocked into stillness. But then I hesitantly lifted my own arms, putting them loosely around her, unsure whether or not I was supposed to reciprocate. I had very little experience with touch, sometimes from Zuhra and, rarely, Sami. This woman was a stranger, and yet there we were, in the crammed hallway, hugging.

  “Thank you,” she whispered brokenly. “I will never be able to thank you enough for saving my Malim.” Impossibly, her arms tightened even more, every ounce of her body humming with emotions stretched so thin it was a wonder she was still standing. But where before it was sheer desperation and panic, it was now a gratitude so all-encompassing even I could feel the depths of it.

  When she finally released me, I had to blink a few times. At least I’d done something good … something remarkable, even. I’d brought death to this town, but now I had also sent death away. I only hoped it would be enough to enable me to sleep … if sleep was even in Halvor’s plan.

  With a final thank-you, the mother hurried back to the bedroom and her son, and we exited the house into the relief of the dark, cool night. I’d never experienced the kind of exhaustion that struck me now, as I numbly forced my feet to follow Halvor’s chosen path, toward the woods, rather than back toward the town. Every part of my body felt as though I were under water, every movement required extra effort, my muscles and mind rebelled as we silently trekked through the trees, winding our way to the path that led up the mountainside—back to the citadel.

  “You think to hide her in plain sight? The first place the garrison will look after they find out she’s escaped the jail is the citadel,” Barloc protested.

  “They can try, but like the others before them, they’ll never make it through that hedge” was Halvor’s confident response, and I exhaled in relief. I’d been afraid he would suggest we flee somewhere far from here—but the citadel was my home. And, no matter how often she’d ignored or mistreated me, my mother was still up there. I couldn’t just leave her. Not with Zuhra gone and Sami—

  “Wait,” I called out, my legs woodenly jamming to a stop. “We have to go back—we have to get Sami.”

  “She’s busy.” Barloc paused and glanced over his shoulder. “She once trained to be a healer, you know. Her services are in high demand at the moment.”

  “But … her home is with us. With me.” My protest was as weak as my trembling muscles.

  Halvor came even with me, his eyes roaming over my face. Where Barloc struggled to hide his obvious irritation, Halvor’s initial frustration quickly gave way to a softness in his eyes that loosened the sudden knot in my chest. “Then we’ll go tell her where we’re going and give her the chance to decide.”

  “You want to take the girl back to the vi
llage? We barely got away as it is.” The wind tugged at Barloc’s tunic, as if agreeing with him, pushing him up the mountain, away from potential danger. “If you let those townspeople find her walking about, free as a bird, you can guarantee they’ll have her locked up—or worse—before you can blink.”

  Halvor was quiet. “Sami is family to her,” he said at last, his eyes still on me. “We have to at least give her the chance to come back with us.”

  Barloc grumbled angrily about the faults of youthful inexperience, but he followed us as we hurried back the way we came. It was a surprise to me, the way my exhaustion ebbed away at the newfound urgency in its place. I couldn’t forget Sami, I couldn’t just leave her there. Once that place had been her home, but it was no longer. Her home was the citadel, her home was with me.

  It was still full dark, no sign of dawn on the horizon. I had no idea what time it was, but I hoped the town would still be asleep.

  At the first line of homes Barloc crossed his lips with one finger. “Why don’t you two wait here? I’ll go find her,” he whispered.

  Halvor looked about to protest, but then lifted and dropped his shoulders. “Don’t return unless you find her—and make sure she knows Inara wishes for her to come back with her.”

  Barloc nodded, then turned and quietly walked forward, toward the slumbering town. Surely Sami must have been attending a family somewhere, another injured person. She wouldn’t have abandoned me … would she?

  “I could help,” I whispered to Halvor. “If there are more injured … I could heal them.”