Moria walked to her father's body. No, not her father. Not truly. It still looked like that twisted thing. A mockery of her father, lying on the floor, clutching her cloak, blood everywhere.
She ought to lift him back onto the padded mat. She ought to kiss his cheek and weep. But this wasn't her father. She could no longer see it as her father. Ashyn would. Ashyn--
Ashyn.
Moria spun and ran out the door.
Moria stood in the junction between two lanes. She looked toward the barracks, then the forest. The choice ought to be simple. Everyone was gone. Dead. Massacred by the shadow stalkers. She needed to get to Ashyn right away.
And yet, when she listened, she heard voices in the forest. Not the screeches of the shadow stalkers, but actual voices. Was it possible some guards had lived? The shadow stalkers could have slipped past them in shadow form.
She looked at Daigo, but the wildcat was doing the same thing, his attention swinging from those voices to the barracks and back.
Ashyn. It had to be Ashyn. Her sister was all she had left now that--
Moria's knees buckled as pain washed over her. Daigo slid beneath her outstretched hands.
"I have you, too. I know." But it wasn't the same, because he was almost an extension of herself.
As she turned toward the barracks, she caught a flash of red-gold hair, streaming behind a figure darting between buildings.
"Ashyn?"
Of course it was. They were the only fair-haired Northerners in Edgewood now that their father . . .
Moria stifled the thought and raced after her sister. When she reached the end of the road, she caught sight of yellowish fur running around the next corner.
She whistled, but Tova didn't come back. She ran after them and again she got to the road's end just in time to see a flash--of both figures this time, her sister and her hound, running like the spirits of the damned were chasing them. Running toward the forest.
"Ashyn! Tova!"
They didn't stop. Behind her, she heard that now-familiar snarling, moaning shriek, and she turned to see a twisted figure in an open doorway. A shadow stalker in human form. It lunged at her. She wheeled and tore off after Ashyn.
Ashyn
Fourteen
"She's not coming back, is she?" Ronan said as he moved his playing piece. "She doesn't want anything to do with me."
Because you used her blade to kidnap me, Ashyn wanted to say. She'd forgiven him. Moria would not until he proved himself worthy.
"Is she worried about the Kitsune boy?" he continued. "I mean, yes, of course she is. But that's what she's thinking about. Him."
Ashyn stifled a sigh and pretended to miss the question.
After a moment, he said, "They're courting, aren't they?"
Ashyn choked on a laugh. "No, definitely not."
"But there is someone, isn't there? A girl like that . . ."
A girl like that.
Ashyn loved her sister. And yet . . . It was not that Ashyn particularly wanted any of the young men who trailed after her sister. It was simply . . . well, simply that she wouldn't mind a boy's attention, if only to prove that she wasn't completely invisible next to Moria.
It had started two springs ago, when a young bard came with the supply wagons. Ashyn still remembered him, with his dark eyes and long braids and quick smile, his pretty words and lilting voice. He'd seen Ashyn first and stopped midsong to stare. Then he'd begun to sing about her. He'd followed her from the village square, still singing as she blushed. That had felt . . . new. Wonderful and warm.
She'd walked all the way home with the bard singing her praises. Then Moria came swinging out, blade in hand, and told him to quit his caterwauling or she'd use him for target practice. He'd stopped singing about Ashyn then. And started singing about Moria.
Her sister had made good on her promise, whipping her dagger and pinning his cloak to the wall. And that was it. One throw of that blade, and he'd completely forgotten Ashyn. He'd followed Moria for the rest of his visit, composing ballads about the flaxen-haired warrior girl of Edgewood. By the time he left, his cape was so full of holes it looked like a fishing net. Yet he wore it as proudly as if Moria had covered it in kisses instead.
Then there was Levi. Again, Ashyn hadn't been truly interested; he was a braggart and a bit of a fool. After he kissed her behind the village hall, she'd hurried home to tell Moria. She'd expected they'd laugh over it. Moria had indeed laughed . . . because he'd done the same to her. The next day he'd awkwardly apologized to Ashyn, and she realized he had drunkenly mistaken her for her sister.
Now Moria had caught Ronan's attention.
"It's getting late," Ashyn said as she stood. "We'll pick up the game tomorrow."
"No, stay. My apologies. I was just . . ." He leaned to peer through the window and down the hall.
I know, she thought. And I don't blame you.
"You can't go anyway," he said. "Moria said to wait until she gets back."
"Yes, she does that. But I'll be fine. I have Tova."
The hound rose at his name. Ignoring Ronan's protests, Ashyn put the game aside and said her farewells. Before she could take a step down the hall, though, the guard appeared in the flickering lantern light.
"I cannot permit you to leave without your sister," he said. "I'm sorry."
Theoretically, Ashyn's authority matched her sister's. But in martial matters, particularly with the guards, it was Moria's voice that rang the loudest.
"She seems to have forgotten me," Ashyn said.
Anyone who truly knew Moria would realize that was impossible. Most likely, Moria had been waylaid and simply delayed. But Ashyn was tired and not particularly eager to wait.
The guard looked up at the hatch, as if considering. Then he shook his head. "I'm sorry, but she was very clear."
"Can you get someone to find her, then?"
He hesitated.
"The barracks are right above us," she said. "Someone must be near."
He nodded. She followed him down the hall. He climbed the ladder, opened the hatch, and called out. When no one answered, he called again, louder. Then a third shout, one that made her ears ring.
Something's wrong.
The thought seemed to leap from nowhere, but it didn't, of course. It had been there since they'd run from the forest. Whatever happened out there isn't over. She'd felt that in her gut, in the cold silence of the spirit-empty village. When they'd met with the commander, she'd wanted to tell him to run. Everyone run.
That was foolish, of course. Run from what? Run to where?
Ashyn had watched her sister marching around, giving orders, and making plans, and thought, for perhaps the thousandth time since their birth, Why can't I be more like her? Instead, she'd sat quietly to the side, fear strumming through her, ashamed of her cowardice, consumed by guilt.
Moria insisted that what happened in the forest was not Ashyn's fault. It was not possible that a mistake in the Seeking could have caused that. While Ashyn knew she hadn't raised those spirits, she could not help but feel she had still failed. That Ellyn would have been able to stop the spirits.
Now, as the guard came back down the ladder, that tamped-down fear and guilt ignited. She stifled the first licks of true panic and said calmly, "With the search party gone, they must all be on duty. Would you go out and check, please? I'll wait here at the hatch."
He nodded and climbed out.
"I'm going to step outside," he said.
She fought a prickle of impatience as his boots scuffed across the floor. A distant door creaked.
"Hello?" he called.
No answer.
"What's going on?" Ronan asked from his cell.
She silenced him with a wave and kept listening as the guard's voice got farther and farther away. Tova whined. She waved him to silence, too.
"You there!" the guard's distant voice called. "Yes, you! Come back."
Boots pounded rock as the guard gave chase. When he spoke again, his
voice was louder, as if he'd come closer to the barracks.
"I'm not going to report you for breaking curfew. The Seeker asked me to--" The guard stopped short. "Who are you? What's wrong with--?" A wordless shout of surprise. "Stay back. You have swamp fever. I don't want to hurt you, but I can't let you touch--"
A curse. Then an inhuman shriek. The click of a blade against stone or steel. Ashyn gripped the hatch opening, ready to race out fighting, as Moria would.
But you aren't Moria. You aren't the Keeper.
Moria . . . Oh, goddess. Moria. Their father. The villagers.
She scrambled down the ladder so fast she missed the last rung and tumbled, her ankle twisting, pain shooting through her leg.
"Ashyn!" Ronan called.
Tova pushed under her arm, supporting her as she rose. She limped to Ronan.
"Something's happened," she said. "I need to find Moria."
As she turned away, his arm shot through the window and grabbed her cloak.
"Wait!" he said.
She tried to yank free, but his grip was too tight.
"Don't leave me here," he said as she struggled. "Whatever's out there, I can help. I can use a blade. My family were warriors once. I'm trained."
She fumbled to undo the clasp on her cloak and escape.
"Ashyn, please. I'm locked in a cage. If anything comes, I don't stand a chance."
She hesitated, then threw open his cell latch and raced down the hall.
Fifteen
Ashyn and Ronan crept along the barrack wall. Ashyn could barely see--the village lights were out and the moonless sky offered little help. But Ronan seemed as surefooted as Daigo and equally adept at seeing in the dark. He padded along as quiet as a thief.
She tried to emulate him but kept stepping on pebbles and stumbling in the dark. Tova's nails clicked along the stone.
As they moved, Ashyn squinted into the night and listened, but there was nothing to see, nothing to hear.
She focused on Ronan's back, tapping him with directions as they moved. They passed the barracks and two more buildings before he stopped. Something lay on the road ahead. Ashyn squinted, then swallowed.
It was the guard. Facedown on the road.
Ronan knelt a few paces away, as if he could check the guard's condition from there. Ashyn started forward. Tova caught her cloak in his teeth, and when he did, she saw why Ronan hadn't gotten closer. The guard lay in a pool of blood. His face was turned toward them, his eyes wide and empty. His throat . . .
He was dead. There was no doubt of that.
It couldn't have been those smoke spirits. You don't try to converse with smoke.
As they circled the blood, she saw footprints leading away from it. Bloody bare footprints.
Ronan followed her gaze. "Someone must have stolen from the body." He said it casually, as if looting a corpse was a natural occurrence. "His blades are still there, though. Both of them."
Ronan skirted the puddle and picked up the sword. He hefted it. Then he leaned over the guard again and eyed the dagger. It lay under the guard, covered in blood. He took a careful step into the pool and snatched it up. Then he wiped it clean on the guard's back as Ashyn stared, horrified.
Ronan slid the dagger into his belt, and pointed the sword. "Onward."
When they neared her house, Ashyn darted ahead. Ronan caught up at the door, and shot his hand out to stop her from opening it.
"I'll go first," he said, lifting the sword.
"You've seen Moria throw her dagger. If anyone but me opens that door . . ."
Ashyn expected he'd square his shoulders and say he'd take that risk. Apparently, she'd been in a garrisoned town too long, with warriors who'd never let her step first into danger. Ronan waved for her to go ahead.
As she reached for the door handle, Tova whined. She looked down to see his nose twitching.
"It's all right," she murmured. "If they aren't here, we'll find them."
She opened the door. It was dark inside. Tova pushed past hard enough to nearly topple her.
"Father?" she whispered. The closing door stole the gray glow of the overcast night, plunging them into black. "Moria?"
She felt her way to the table and lit a lantern. It hissed, then flared. Ronan cast an anxious look at the window.
"Cover it," he whispered.
She frowned at him.
"Hide the light."
She turned the lantern down as much as she could. Tova was at her father's bedroom door, his nose at the base, whining louder. She walked over and grasped the handle. Tova spun, hitting her hard and knocking her back. Then he planted all four feet and growled. Warning her back, as he'd done in the forest.
She stared at the door, her heart thumping.
Ronan came up behind her and snatched the lantern. He opened the bedroom door just enough to squeeze through. Ashyn tried to follow, but Tova knocked her down, then planted himself over her, growling.
She stared up at him in shock. He ducked his head, whining, as if in apology, but when she tried to rise, he pinned her cloak with one massive paw.
Ronan stepped from the bedroom. The door clicked shut behind him. He held the lantern low, and she couldn't see his face.
"We have to leave," he said.
"What?" She scrambled up, knocking Tova aside. "Where's my father? Moria? Are they gone?"
A pause. Then, "Yes."
"All right. We'll find them. I have a few ideas where--"
He caught her cloak as she turned to the door. "We need to get out of the village."
She stared at him. "What?"
"We have to leave. Now."
"We . . . we can't. We're in the middle of the Wastes. I'm not permitted to leave. I'm the Seeker. And . . . and Moria, my father." She took a deep breath. "You can go. I'll tell no one you've escaped. You'll need to grab supplies." She waved at the kitchen. "Take what you want. Tova and I will find my--"
He stepped in front of her as she turned. "There's no one to find, Ashyn."
"What?"
He laid his hand on her shoulder. "When I said they're gone, I meant--"
She didn't let him finish. She pushed past him, yanked open the bedroom door, ran inside, and tripped over something. She fell face-first, her chin striking the floor, teeth catching her tongue with a sharp blast of pain. She flipped around to see what she'd tripped over.
An arm. There was an arm stretched from a dark heap on the floor. She struggled for breath as she scrambled over, still on her hands and feet, getting closer.
When she saw the misshapen fingers and thick, clawlike nails, tears sprang to her eyes. She looked at that ugly, monstrous hand and thought she'd never seen anything more beautiful in her life.
"It's not them," she whispered. "It--it's a--"
"Shadow stalker," Ronan finished as he reached down for her hand. "I didn't want you to have to see it, but now you have, so come on and we'll get out of here."
"But you said my father and Moria--"
"They're gone. Not here. We should go. This one is dead, but the light might attract others."
He took her shoulders and steered her past. "Don't look at it. You've seen enough."
If it was a shadow stalker, she should see it, know exactly what she faced. She looked. Ronan pulled the lantern away quickly. Not quickly enough. Not before she got a look at the face. It was horribly disfigured, but not disfigured enough to disguise the features. Features she knew well. A nose that had been rendered permanently crooked when a warrior tried to negotiate a better price with his fists. A mouth always quirking at the corners, ready to burst into laughter.
"F-Father?" She dropped to her knees and yanked at the thing's tunic, ripping it open to see the scar on his chest bone. Then she screamed, a wail of horror and grief wrenched from deep inside her.
Ronan grabbed her, his hand slapping over her mouth to silence her. She fought him, kicking and twisting. Tried to bite him, too. But he held his hand there, tight, whispering, "I know, I know. But y
ou can't scream. You can't. Shhh."
She caught sight of Tova now. The hound was lying beside her father's body, his muzzle on her father's arm, not interfering with Ronan, just waiting, eyes pleading with her to stop screaming.
She did. And the moment Ronan released his grip, she shoved him aside and looked around. There, next to her father's body, was what seemed like another figure. As she fell on it, she felt the soft fur underside of a cloak identical to her own.
Moria's cloak.
She would have screamed again, if she could. But when she opened her mouth, the pain doubled her over and stole her voice.
It can't be. If she was hurt, I would have known.
The cloak was sticky with blood. She snatched it up and--
There was nothing beneath the cloak. She scrambled over on all fours, looking about wildly. Then she raced to the sleeping mat. She looked all around it before turning to Ronan.
"She's not here."
He paused, then said carefully, "There's blood on the cloak, Ashyn. Quite a lot. It was clutched in his hand. He must have attacked her."
Her heart stopped as she imagined the scene, their father going after Moria. Attacking her. Trying to kill her. Moria going through that, alone.
No, not alone.
"Daigo wouldn't leave her," she said as she walked back toward the door.
"He might have gone with her, if she turned into one of those."
It took a moment for his words to process. He thought Moria had become a shadow stalker. That's why he hadn't questioned the lack of a body.
No. There was an equally logical explanation. Her sister had been injured but escaped, shucking her cloak and running.
Running where?
There was no question where she'd go.
"She's headed back for me, and we've missed her."
She started for the door. Tova finally rose from his place beside their father.
"Ashyn . . ." Ronan said. "There's a lot of blood."
"Then take supplies and go. I'm finding my sister."
Sixteen
Everyone's dead.
The thought looped through Ashyn's mind as she walked down the dark and empty lanes.
As they'd made their way to the barracks, she'd insisted on checking each house they passed. She listened for survivors while Ronan looked.
"One man in his third decade and a younger woman," Ronan reported as he walked from a bedroom of the last house.
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