I must have made a wrong turn somewhere, because eventually I found myself at one of the large doors that led outside to the grounds where the gryphons had landed earlier, rather than any hallway that looked like the one where my room had been.
The sun had nearly dropped below the western peaks, casting shadows that crept over the castle grounds like great, dark monsters stealing the light. Rather than turning back, however, I slipped out the heavy door and onto the grounds. Only a couple of gryphons remained in the large field, leaving me to wonder where the rest had gone, until I noticed a Paladin walking her gryphon toward three rows of massive buildings that must have been the stables.
I had so many questions, and I longed for more time with my father and my grandfather, but as I watched her disappear within the building, her gryphon following docilely behind, a sudden idea struck me.
My whole life had been spent in a building and courtyard smaller than this field, and the thought of attempting what I was considering was enough to send a wave of panic so strong over me that it made me dizzy, and yet I still found myself resolutely walking across the well-trod grasses toward the gryphons’ buildings.
For Inara, I can do this. I can be brave. I can be fearless.
Because that’s what it would take to steal a gryphon, somehow make it through that tiny crack in the mountain, and then find my way back to the gateway.
Fearlessness.
I wasn’t even sure what I’d do when I got there—I only knew I couldn’t wait here any longer, I had to at least try. My grandfather had assured me that I must have Paladin power hiding within me … I could only pray that if it was, it would be enough to open the gateway as my sister had so I could return to her.
The closer I got to the first building, the more noises I began to hear. Gryphons clicking their beaks and making sounds similar to the chickens—only a hundred times louder and more terrifying. When a chicken squawked, it didn’t raise bumps on my arms and make me jump back a step, rethinking the foolishness of my idea.
For Inara. For Inara.
It became my mantra, the beat that I forced my feet to follow as they carried me toward the door the Paladin had gone through and then slipped past it.
Inside, the stable was clean and I could tell that in the full light of day it would have been well lit, but as evening threw her cloak over the remaining daylight, the interior was cast into shadow. I slid into one of those shadows, watching silently from within its concealment as Paladin moved about, between rows of large doors that must have opened into individual stalls where the gryphons slept. Some of them carried buckets of water, others armfuls of what appeared to be dead animals—some small rodents, but other larger ones as well. I swallowed once, hard.
For Inara. For Inara.
I didn’t know how long it would be before the council finally all gathered, and based on my second encounter with Ederra, I was more afraid than ever that the council would deny my request to open the gateway. Inara needed me now. I knew it, as well as I knew anything. If she was still alive, then she needed me. She always had and she always would.
I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with air and hopefully a good dose of courage, and then hurried toward the nearest door. With one hard yank, it pulled silently open and before I knew it, I had entered the stall, slammed the door shut, turned, and found myself face-to-face with a gryphon.
The creature cocked its head to the side, peering at me with one large, black eye and I sucked back a gasp. Its leonine tail swished back and forth on the fresh, sweet-smelling straw in the corner of the large stall. I had the sudden terrifying—and far too delayed—realization that perhaps a gryphon might think a random girl walking into its stall was a chance for a live meal, rather than one of those dead ones swinging from the Paladin’s arms.
I flattened myself against the now shut door, my heart beating so hard I could feel it in my throat. But the gryphon didn’t attack. It didn’t even flinch. It just continued to watch me, looking more bemused than predatory.
I stared at the massive creature, too terrified to move, and then realized it didn’t have the saddle or harness on its head that the ones we’d ridden on earlier had worn. Of course they didn’t leave those on them at all times. Assuming I ever summoned enough courage to move, let alone toward the creature, how was I supposed to ride it without any of that?
This had been a terrible idea.
I had just begun to slide my hand across the door behind me, searching for the handle, when it opened, dumping me unceremoniously to the ground on my rump.
“Would you like to tell me what, exactly, it is you’re doing?”
I exhaled and squeezed my eyes shut momentarily. It would have to have been him. Summoning a bright smile, I turned and looked up at Raidyn, ignoring the way his lips were pursed together as if he were trying not to laugh. “I just wanted to get to see a gryphon again. Up close. Very close,” I added when he cocked one eyebrow.
“You don’t have much experience lying, do you.”
I huffed and clambered back to my feet, keeping one eye on the gryphon—concerned it might still think of me as fresh meat. “Fine. The truth is that I was going to try to fly a gryphon back to the gateway. I have to get back to my sister,” I rushed on when his jaw literally fell open. “You don’t understand how much she needs me—what happens to her. Her power, what it does to her … without me there—”
“Zuhra,” he cut into my frantic rambling, “I know.”
The way he said it, so gentle, so apologetic, so … knowing, made me pause. “I … I’m not sure…”
Raidyn stepped back and gestured for me to exit the gryphon’s stall. I did, and let him close the sliding door, latching it shut before turning to face me. Lanterns I hadn’t noticed before hung at equal intervals between the stalls and now glowed blue—much like the color of the Paladin’s eyes—illuminating the stable in a soft cerulean light that was both beautiful and eerie. It cast a strange glow on Raidyn’s sun-bronzed skin, and turned his golden hair almost ashen. “When I healed you…” he began, halting and unsure, pushing his hands into the pockets of his trousers, his powerful shoulders sloped slightly forward. “Healing requires me—or any Paladin who does it, not just me—to, well … it’s difficult to explain.”
“I felt you,” I cut in quietly. “As if a part of you—your soul—was somehow speaking to mine.” The admission made me flush, and I had to look away from his brilliant eyes that glowed even brighter in the dimness.
Raidyn exhaled, a quiet whoosh of relief. “A soul speaking to a soul,” he repeated, his voice low.
“I know that’s probably not what really happened … but it’s how it felt,” I added lamely, embarrassed.
“No, I like that way of thinking about it. We call it sanaulus, which literally means ‘heal together as one’ in your language. Not all healings require that, but when the wounds are life threatening, sanaulus is inevitable. It’s the only way to do it.” He paused, clearing his throat before continuing a bit more slowly. “Sanaulus requires me to … feel things, even see things. Hidden, secret things, deep inside that person. Like your feelings for your sister. Like what happens to Inara when her power consumes her.”
It was my turn for my jaw to fall open. “You saw Inara? You felt my feelings for her?”
He nodded, silent.
“Anything else?” I couldn’t help but ask, even as my cheeks burned from the realization of how much he—this stranger—knew about me and my life.
“I would never share what I learn about someone when I’m healing them—that is a sacred trust I’ve been given because of my gift, and it’s not my place,” he responded, a nonanswer that did little to assuage my alarm. Just how much did he really know about me—how much had he seen, felt, or heard?
“Have you told anyone else about her yet—about what happens when she doesn’t use her power enough?” His question refocused me, reminded me of my true purpose here tonight. It didn’t matter what he did or didn’t know
about me and my life. Soon I would never see him again.
“No, I haven’t had an opportunity to.”
“If you want the council to agree to open that gateway, your only chance is by convincing them how dangerous your sister is.”
“Dangerous? She’s not—”
“Which she is,” he continued right on over me as though I hadn’t even spoken. “An uncontrolled Paladin with that level of power is a huge danger to herself and anyone near her. You’ve been lucky, Zuhra, that nothing worse than opening the gateway and letting a rakasa in has happened before now. Very lucky.”
I gaped at him, struck silent. Inara was many things, but dangerous? Mother had acted like she was, she’d been afraid of her. But Inara had never hurt anyone. “I don’t care what you think you saw or heard or felt, if you believe Inara is dangerous, then you saw wrong.” If I’d had any idea of where to go, I would have turned on my heel and stormed away from him. Instead, I could only fold my arms across my body, trying to hold back the scalding anger boiling up and threatening to spill out of my eyes or mouth.
“I know how much you love your sister—I know you would defend her with your dying breath. But—”
“Stop it. Stop saying you know these things. You don’t know me. You don’t know her.”
“And you don’t know what an untrained Paladin with that kind of power could be capable of.” His voice rose to match the level of my own, but rather than the heat of anger, his was as cold as a wintry night, full of frost.
“Causing trouble again, Raid?”
The new, unexpected voice unraveled the rising tension, and not a second too soon. My fury and fear collapsed in on me, like bread taken out of the oven too soon, crumbling in on itself. At the same moment, the frustration on Raidyn’s face smoothed into indifference. I hadn’t even recognized frustration had been there until it was absent, making me realize that as much as I protested him not knowing me, I knew him even less. Some part of me had immediately thought of him as an ally, as a friend even, but I had to remind myself that he was neither. He’d saved my life—twice—and that had created a false sense of a bond between us.
I didn’t even know if I could trust him.
“I don’t cause trouble.” Raidyn’s flat response did little to indicate whether the person speaking behind me was someone to fear—or thank for the interruption.
“You must be Zuhra,” the male continued, ignoring Raidyn.
I took a deep breath and turned. He was tall, at least as tall as Raidyn, with hair as dark as night and eyes that glowed green instead of blue, like moss turned to flame.
“I’m Loukas.” He grinned. “And I can see that Raidyn is doing what he does best, so I thought I would come rescue you.”
“That’s enough, Louk.” Raidyn’s eyes flashed but Loukas seemed completely undeterred—in fact, if anything, Raidyn’s discomfort only seemed to goad him on. “She doesn’t know you’re jesting.”
“Who says I’m jesting? I’m entirely earnest. You excel at frustrating and annoying everyone you meet. It’s a wonder you have any friends.”
“I’m fairly certain I will soon have one less.”
Loukas merely laughed, his grin even wider.
My gaze bounced between the two of them, unable to ascertain if they actually were friends or if Loukas was truly antagonizing Raidyn. I’d never heard an exchange like this before—I was simultaneously uncomfortable and fascinated.
“Do you have a purpose in interrupting us? Or were you just bored?”
“I noticed you two having a rather … emphatic … conversation, and I thought perhaps I might be able to help.” Loukas leaned toward me, as though preparing to confide something, but his voice wasn’t lowered one bit when he said, “Don’t let him get to you. He really does mean well, even if his methods are proven to be ineffective.”
“He healed me,” I offered, which I only realized was completely inane the moment after the words left my lips, but there was no taking it back, so I scrambled to justify why I’d said it. “So he thinks he knows me—and my sister. But he’s wrong.”
“He often is,” Loukas agreed affably.
“I need the council to open the gateway—I need to get home to her. And he thinks the only way to do that is to convince them that she’s dangerous.”
Loukas nodded sympathetically, but I didn’t miss the way his gaze flickered to Raidyn and then back to me—something passing between them that I didn’t grasp.
“There has to be another way, right?” I pressed, ignoring the uncomfortable suspicion that I was truly the one at the receiving end of the joke, not Raidyn. “You said you wished to help—can you help me convince the council to open the gateway?”
“Well…” Loukas hedged, with another glance past me, but Raidyn merely gestured for him to proceed. This time Raidyn was the one who looked amused at Loukas’s discomfort. “No,” he admitted, the joviality draining from his face, leaving him as grave as Raidyn.
The tiny seed of hope that had momentarily unfurled withered again.
“I’m sorry, I wish I could,” Loukas continued, “but in this case, you may be forced to listen to Raidyn after all.”
My stomach plummeted, but my eyes went to Raidyn, who stood with his arms folded across his chest, his face a mask.
The main door to the stables opened and a young Paladin girl burst through it, heaving a sigh of relief when she saw the three of us.
“Master Raidyn, you must come immediately. The council has been summoned to meet.”
“Thank you, Jeley.” He flickered a brief hint of a smile toward the girl. “I’ll come straight away.”
She bobbed her head up and down and turned to dash out of the stables again. Raidyn shot Loukas another unreadable look and then nodded at me before following the young girl.
“Wait … If the council is finally all here, why did they ask for him and not me?” I moved to follow, but Loukas reached out and gently grabbed my arm, stopping me.
“He didn’t tell you,” Loukas said quietly, all traces of humor gone now.
“Tell me what?”
“Zuhra, Raidyn is on the council.”
TWENTY-NINE
INARA
I ran.
Even when the stones and pine needles and weeds cut and bruised my feet. Little flares of power kept igniting and racing through my veins, but new wounds were inflicted again before the others could fully heal.
I ran.
Even when my legs caught fire beneath my skin, my muscles burning, ripping, searing in protest.
I ran.
Even when my throat tasted of blood and my lungs felt as though blades had been thrust into them, serrating and stealing my ability to breathe.
I ran.
Shouts followed me, refusing to let me slow or stop. The trees burned red behind us from the lit torches of the villagers racing in pursuit of the one they still blamed for the dead beast lying in their square. For the death of one of their own.
I ran.
Somewhere behind the villagers, I wasn’t sure how close, my doom marched toward us—in the form of King Varick’s garrison, who had been summoned because a Paladin had opened the gateway.
They were all coming for me.
And suddenly, the very thing that had held us captive my whole life was my only hope of escape and protection.
The trail arced sharply upward, carving its way through the tree-dense slope like a curved blade, slicing through the mountain’s flesh. Dirt and rocks tumbled behind me as I tried to keep my footing and not fall. Halvor stayed beside me, occasionally reaching out as though he would grab my arm and pull me up, faster, but continued to drop his hand before doing it. Sami and Barloc tried to keep pace behind us, but they soon fell behind.
When I could no longer hear her labored breathing, I slowed, glancing over my shoulder. Almost immediately, my muscles seized, locking up.
“No—keep going!” Halvor shouted, and this time, his fingers did curl over my wrist, draggi
ng me back to a run.
“Go—Inara—just go!” Sami echoed from behind, in between mucous-thick gasps of air.
“I … can’t … leave … her!” Each word tore out of my already wounded throat, punctuated by the slaps of my feet on the earth as Halvor continued to drag me forward.
“They will kill you, Inara,” he shouted back at me, yanking even harder, his grip surprisingly strong and painful as we struggled up the mountain. “Do you understand that? They don’t want Sami or Barloc. They want you. No more trials, no more waiting. They want blood.”
Hot tears burned trails of guilt down my cheeks as I allowed myself to be dragged toward the hedge—toward safety—leaving Sami and Barloc behind. But even with him pulling me, it was only a few moments before my left thigh seized and I stumbled to a limping halt. Halvor’s grip tightened, but when he tried to yank me forward, my legs buckled and I crashed to my knees on the forest floor, my breath tearing through my throat in harsh gasps. I’d never run in my life, let alone up a mountain. And even with my death bearing down on me, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t run one more step.
“Inara—you have to get up. We’re so close. You can do this.”
I shook my head, more tears leaking out, making tiny plops of moisture in the dirt between my shaking hands on the ground. “My leg … something’s wrong…”
A bird cawed nearby, its cry transmuted into a cackle that mocked my uselessness, carried on a bruising wind that flung pine needles in my face, as though the very elements and earth itself were mocking my attempt at escape. Perhaps I wasn’t meant to—perhaps I didn’t deserve escape. Perhaps … I truly was the monster, as I feared. And monsters deserved to die. Didn’t they?
“Then I’ll carry you.”
Halvor’s quiet but resolute statement jarred me. I blinked the dirt from my eyes to see him crouch down, and before I knew it, he’d hooked one arm under my arms and the other under my knees and with a grunt, lifted me up against his body. He was thin, and studious, and red-faced, and somehow, he was carrying me up that mountain.
Sisters of Shadow and Light Page 24