Shadow's Dream

by Jami Gray

  Tala couldn’t blame her, what should be a simple stretch of water easily waded through was now a churning divide between them and the relative safety of the shore. A particularly vicious wave washed over them, leaving them coughing out more water in its wake. Under her arms, the log shifted, and she lost her hold.

  As Tala went under, the roar of water drowned out Aponi’s shrill scream. Tala’s lungs ached and burned, but she fought the current, her fingers reaching blindly. Rough bark met her touch, and she clawed her way back out of the river’s reach. Her head broke the surface, and she sucked in air, the resulting coughs tearing through her already abused throat.

  “Amá!” The little girl’s cries anchored Tala.

  “I’m okay, baby.” Her voice came out in a hoarse croak. Muscles in her arms screamed as she dragged her battered body closer. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here.” She blinked the water from her eyes and realized she was now between Aponi and the shore. An ominous creak from the log warned they were running out of time. Turning back to the hiccupping little girl, Tala forced a smile. “Aponi, baby, look at me.” When her daughter’s dark eyes met hers, Tala forced every ounce of belief she could into her voice. “I want you to get on my back, and I’m going to swim us across.”

  Aponi bit her lower lip, worry lining her face. “Like Scorpion and the Fox?”

  Tala choked on an unexpected laugh. “Kind of, but let’s not sting Amá when we’re half way across, okay?”

  Aponi managed a weak smile. “I wouldn’t hurt you, Amá.”

  Seeing her daughter’s faith lodged a heavy knot in her throat, but she managed to squeeze out, “I wouldn’t hurt you either, yázhí. I’m going to keep you safe, promise.”

  ‘Don’t make promises you can’t keep.’ The insidious whisper crawled through her, gathering doubts in its wake and scarring gouges on her heart. She tried to ignore it as she kept one arm on the log and used the other to help Aponi settle against her back. Once Aponi looped her thin arms around Tala’s neck, Tala reached up and gave her daughter’s hands a squeeze. “Hang tight, baby.”

  “Okay, Amá.”

  Tala turned toward the shore and dragged air deep into her lungs, steeling herself for the fight ahead. Fear for her daughter dug into her strained muscles with icy intent. In front of them, the water boiled, wood and leaves caught in the determined currents, the distance to shore daunting. Staying here was out of the question.

  Gathering her courage, she blocked out the fear and focused on the shore. She let go of the log. The current rushed over her, threatening to tear the child from her back, but her daughter wrapped her legs around Tala’s waist, clinging tight. Her choppy breaths were audible, even above the rush and noise of the river.

  Kicking hard, Tala fought for every inch. They were about half way to the shore, when the sharp crack behind them made Aponi cry out. Tala didn’t bother looking back, knowing their last bastion of safety was now gone, the log lost in the raging torrent. All they could do was move forward. Her arms and legs were leaden, but she refused to stop kicking, stop reaching for a shore that seemed even further out of reach.

  ‘We’re running out of time.’ Cheveyo’s warning slipped around her, and the doubts she managed to push back rushed forward. The odd behavior of the wolves, the shifting landscape, the treacherous river, and the painful truth circling the edges of it all, even the feel of her daughter’s weight against her back.

  A wave washed over her, shoving her down while the pressure of Aponi’s legs at her waist disappeared and her arms loosened. Instinctively, Tala clutched at Aponi’s arms, refusing to let her go, and scrambled back to the surface. Her head broke the surface. Next to her ear and against her spine, she could feel and hear her daughter coughing. “Hold on, baby,” she choked out.

  “Don’t let me go, Amá.”

  The frightened girlish whisper sent cracks spiraling through Tala’s heart and brushed up against old wounds. Her doubts settled into the tiny fissures and took root, but she couldn’t stop her vow, “I won’t, Aponi.”

  A shout from shore caught her attention. She looked over to see Cheveyo jumping into the raging current. He fought his way to them, his face lined with grim determination.

  Digging deep, Tala forced her legs to move, kicking toward him. She couldn’t stop the harsh sob as she reached for him, her shoulders burning. Their hands met, and then he was dragging her closer, his muscles straining as his grip shifted to her wrist.

  Pain slammed into her side, stealing her breath and wrenching her out of Cheveyo’s grip. Aponi’s startled scream was cut short, and her grip on Tala’s neck disappeared.

  Fear roared through her.

  Ignoring the agony searing her side, Tala spun as best she could in the twisting current, her gaze frantic. “Aponi!” The little girl was desperately trying to stay above the water, and Tala didn’t hesitate to lunge for her, catching her wrist. “Come on, baby, reach for me!”

  The river was relentless, tearing at both of them. Tala barely registered when a strong arm wrapped around her waist, her focus on the girl struggling against the unforgiving water. With Cheveyo holding her, she used both hands to hold on to Aponi’s arm, trying to reel her closer. Another wave crashed into them, this time driving Aponi under and ripping her from Tala’s grip.

  “No!” Tala clawed at Cheveyo’s arm, deaf to his shouts. Freed from his hold, she dove into the river. She kept her eyes open, searching the murky waters. Her lungs burned, and blackness threatened, but she stayed under.

  A darker shadow drifted ahead, and she grabbed it, bringing it closer until she could see Aponi’s pale face, eyes closed. Despite the girl’s dead weight, Tala aimed for the surface and swam. Light danced in front of her eyes. Just when she thought the darkness would claim them both, she was thrown up, and her head broke through. She sucked in air, choking even as she turned to her back and pulled Aponi’s head out of the water.

  Suddenly Cheveyo was there, pulling them both to-ward the shore. She did what she could to help, but it wasn’t much as she was more concerned with keeping their daughter’s face out of the water. She tried not to notice the blue tinge around Aponi’s lips, but the cracks in her heart widened to terrifying depths.

  Her feet touched ground for the first in time in what felt like hours, but her legs were slow to respond. Only Cheveyo’s arm around her waist kept her upright.

  They stumbled onto shore, and Tala dropped to her knees, her daughter cradled in her arms. She laid her down, then tilted Aponi’s head back to confirm her airway was clear, terror crawling through her bones. Tala began chest compressions, keeping count to stave off the fear. She couldn’t lose her daughter again. She’d never survive it.

  Cheveyo knelt on Aponi’s other side, and when Tala’s arms began to visibly shake, he locked his hands on her wrists.

  Her gaze shot to his. “What are you doing? Let me go, Cheveyo.”

  “No.”

  Stunned, she reacted, striking out with her magic, but he deflected it, his jaw tightening. “Let me go, you bastard. This is our daughter.”

  “Dammit, Tala, listen to me.” His voice was harsh, cutting. “This is not real.” His grip on her wrists tightened until it threatened to bruise bone. “Aponi is not real. This is a spell designed to trap us here.”

  His damning words joined the whispers in her head, circling tighter and tighter, adding sharp edges to her doubt. “No. I can save her.”

  The pain in his eyes killed her, but he didn’t back down. “This is not our daughter, awéé.”

  “It is.” Her denial fractured under his ruthless certainty.

  “In another life maybe,” his voice gentled, softened. “But not this one.”

  The truth of his words reverberated like a bell as the last of her dream fell apart, shattered under the weight of reality and she knew. She looked down at the little girl under their joined hands, her hot tears hidden among the rain.

  She tugged against Cheveyo’s hold until he let go. Then she cupped
Aponi’s face and pressed her forehead to her child’s, closing her eyes against the agony tearing through her. “I’m so sorry, yázhí.” Grief, as fresh as the first time she lost their child, crawled through her. The warm weight of Cheveyo’s hand brushed over her spine. She opened her eyes, pressed a kiss against Aponi’s forehead, and whispered, “Ayóo-anííníshní, Aponi. I’ll always love you.”

  “Pinnanku tease em puinnuhi, baide’.” Cheveyo said. “Until next time, my daughter.”

  Even as anger and grief rose, Tala couldn’t fail to miss the deep pain in Cheveyo’s husky voice. Still, she couldn’t look at him. Not yet. While her mind could grasp their situation—a trap devised of a spell fueled by her deepest desire—her heart couldn’t find the same cold comfort. Even after an icy wind swept between them, taking the image of Aponi with it, old resentments rose. In her lap, her hands curled into fists.

  “Tala.”

  She ignored him, trying to get her ravaged emotions in check.

  Of course, Cheveyo wasn’t one to be ignored. He moved until he was in front of her and lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Tala.” His gaze searched her face, and the skin around his eyes tightened. She caught his flash of hurt before he tucked it away. He let her chin go and turned away with a small shake of his head. “We have to leave.”

  She knew that wasn’t what he had planned to say and knew why he switched his words. She sat there, her voice flat. “Give me a minute, Cheveyo.”

  His shoulders straightened, but he gave her a stiff nod and walked a bit away.

  She fought her way through her tempestuous emotions, her gaze focused not on the still raging river but inside her battered soul. She worked her way through the facts Cheveyo had given her.

  A mirror spell, one anchored with the ghost of her unborn daughter and fueled by her inability to save her spoke to someone who knew her. Maybe even more than the man who haunted her heart. The list was extremely short.

  She pushed to her feet, her body stiff. Absently, she wondered if she could walk without shattering. The first step was difficult, but with each one that followed she came back to herself and the woman she created. Coming up behind Cheveyo, she brushed her fingers along his back, a silent apology. “Where was it set?”

  He turned his head, giving her his profile. “The spell?”

  She nodded.

  “In your bathroom mirror.”

  She absorbed the hit with blink, the betrayal another lash among many. A chorus of howls rent the air, even as lightning struck a nearby tree with a deafening crack. Her hand fisted in his wet T-shirt. “Teagan?”

  His jaw flexed, and he turned away. “Maybe.”

  There was something in his voice that had her moving around until she stood in front of him. “Maybe?” Her question came out sharp. “She’s the only one, besides you, who was in my house and behind my wards today.” Wet strands of hair whipped over her face, leaving small stings behind.

  “That we know of,” he shot back, his face matching the ruthless bite of his words. “But unless we get the hell out of here, we’ll never find out for sure.”

  “Fine, then let’s go.” Another howl, this time so close she spun around and backed into Cheveyo. “Well, damn,” she muttered. “Now what?”

  His hands clasped her shoulders and shifted her to the side as they faced down the amber-eyed menaces between them and their intended path out of this nightmare. The four snarling wolves began a slow stalk forward, forcing Tala and Cheveyo to mimic them in retreat.

  “Go back to the river and build the damn bridge, Tala. I’ll hold them as long as I can.”

  Lightning struck another nearby tree, causing them both to flinch. Her nose wrinkled at the overwhelming stench of ozone, but her feet remained frozen. “I’m not leaving you here.”

  An unexpected fierce grin answered her. “I wasn’t planning on staying.”

  Swallowing hard, she gave him a nod and rushed to the river, leaving him to hold back the wolves. It wasn’t easy crafting the bridge, especially with the snarls, yips, and pained grunts coming from behind her, but if she didn’t get her shit together, they’d both die here. The bridge wavered into place as her magic forced the dream world to its will. The wooden arc reached across the river and disappeared into the fog-enshrouded bank on the other side.

  “Cheveyo!” She didn’t dare take her attention away from the bridge.

  “Go!” His harsh command seemed close so she clambered over the boulder-strewn shore and onto the bridge.

  The river raged higher, waves sweeping over the structure. Creating their escape route triggered the mirror spell’s secondary defenses. She clutched the railing and used it to pull herself along. She risked a glance back to see Cheveyo fling one wolf into the raging waters before scrambling over the boulders and lunging for the bridge. As soon as his hand touched the railing, her magic flared, looping around him like a safety line.

  Just in time, too. A wailing gust of wind slammed over the bridge and knocked Tala’s feet out from under her. Only her grip on the rail kept her in place.

  Cheveyo fought his way to her, his lips pulled back in a ferocious snarl. As soon as he got close, he caught her gaze and yelled, “Go, Tala!”

  Behind him, the wolves regrouped and rushed the bridge. Tala reacted. Her magic began unraveling the wooden planks, leaving her and Cheveyo no choice but to run forward. Together they fought their way over, battling brutal winds, blinding waves, and rain.

  She almost sobbed when she made out the faint golden light just within the fog bank. The storm around them grew to demonic proportions, lightning striking so close it raised the hair on her arms and left an ache in her teeth. When the end of the bridge appeared, she threw her body forward.

  Lightning struck the bridge where she had been, and she covered her head with her arms as she rolled away. When she came up to her knees, she saw Cheveyo struggling the last few feet. She scrambled forward only to be forced back by another vicious lightning strike.

  “Open the damn door, Tala!” Cheveyo’s shout barely rose above the storm’s rage.

  She looked behind her, and, sure enough, a door hung there. She pushed to her feet and stumbled forward, reaching for the ornate handle. She pushed, but it didn’t budge. Desperate now, she slammed her shoulder against the unforgiving surface. The door inched open. She did it again and again, ignoring the numbing pain from each impact, until the door was wide enough for her to slip through.

  She turned back to see Cheveyo a few feet from shore. She set her back against the door, dug her heels in, and reached out to him. “Cheveyo!”

  He lifted his head—his hair plastered against his skull, his face thinned down to brutal determination—and reached out. Their fingers brushed. A harsh frustrated sob escaped, but she shifted her position, bracing a hand and a foot against the door so it wouldn’t close and stretched as far as she could with her other.

  Their hands touched just as a wolf leapt out of the gathering darkness behind him. Her heart clenched, and she screamed, “Cheveyo!”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Cheveyo jerked upright with a gasp, only to choke as he inhaled smoke. Harsh coughs doubled him over even as pain streaked along his back and leg in phantom waves. Trying to get his brain on track, he looked up to see Ash standing on the mattress at the foot of Tala’s bed.

  Tala’s pet lifted his paw from Cheveyo’s shredded pant leg and woofed in question.

  “Yeah, I’m awake.”

  “Good.”

  He barely registered Tala’s hoarse voice before she grabbed him and yanked him over the side and down in to the narrow space between the bed and wall. He grunted at the impact and barely managed to escape smashing his face against the unforgiving floor. Pushing up into an awkward plank position, he turned his head and found Tala on her stomach beside him.

  A rush of displaced air preceded Ash’s appearance on his other side as the wolf leapt from the bed to the floor.

  Cheveyo turned to his side,
trying to make more room. “What the hell?”

  Tala’s face was pale but resolute, and she pointed to the window above them. “Fire.”

  Sure enough, now that he was paying attention he could see the dancing shadows on the wall and the hazy pall of smoke in the air. “The cabin?”

  She shook her head. “The forest.” Her voice was hoarse. She winced and rubbed her throat, then added, “Someone decided if they couldn’t breach my wards, they’d burn through them.”

  “Son of a bitch,” he hissed, rapidly assessing various plans. “Are they still here?”

  Her eyes went opaque as she reached out to check her wards. “Not nearby.”

  “Good.”

  She gave him a sharp look. “Excuse me?”

  “If they aren’t watching, that gives us a chance to get outside undetected.” And once outside, he might be able to hunt down whoever was determined to take out Tala. First things first, they needed to get out of the cabin rapidly filling with smoke. “Head to the sliding glass door.”

  Tala pushed up into a crouch, reached over the bed, and dragged down a pillow.

  “We don’t have—”

  His mouth snapped shut when she lifted her head and pinned him with a hard stare. She yanked the pillow free from the pillowcase. A flare of magic preceded the sound of the cotton ripping in two. She handed him one piece and then tied the other over her face. “Now, we go.” He didn’t miss the bite in her voice even though it was muffled.

  She reached out and tapped Ash’s shoulder. In seconds the wolf was slinking toward the bedroom door, Tala crab walking behind him, her hand on his tail. Cheveyo stayed right behind them.

  In the short time they were on the floor, the smoky haze grew thicker, and, even with the makeshift mask, he could still taste the ash on his tongue. They crept through the house, the flames outside shifting the homey interior into a nightmare of distorted shadows. Unwilling to chance a surprise attack, Cheveyo sent his magic out in search of hidden threats but came back with nothing.