Shadowborn

by Katie MacAlister

  “Blast it! Kiriah, now is not the time to withhold your favor from me—Thorn, quiet your chatter. Can’t you see that I’m fighting to get Kiriah to hear my prayer, as she did with the Askia? What do you mean Hallow has collapsed? He is right behind—blessed goddess!” was the last thing Hallow heard before he allowed the blackness to swallow him up.

  Chapter 12

  “Draught or no?”

  I looked up at the woman who’d informed me her name was Red Eva; she stood holding a dark blue bottle. I hesitated, wanting to tell her that Hallow needed sleep in order to recover from all the injuries he’d sustained in the arcane blast, but knowing a discussion was necessary. “Hallow?” I asked softly, leaning down to his ear. He lay on his belly with his head turned away from me, his bare back covered with clean strips of linen stained with a green balm that smelled surprisingly good. It was sort of a lemony mint, oddly refreshing, and according to Red Eva would work miracles healing his torn flesh. “My love, I need to talk to Deo and Quinn. I’d prefer that you rest while I do so. If I promise to repeat everything they say, would you stay here? Red Eva has a draught that will help you relax.”

  Hallow moaned softly into the pillow, but lifted his head and turned it toward me, his beautiful blue eyes now clouded with pain. “No, I don’t need a sleeping draught, although this bed is surprisingly comfortable. Blissfully so. I feel like I could lie here for a good thousand years.”

  I bent down to kiss him. The pain medicine that Eva had given him before she started cleaning his back was slowing Hallow’s reactions. His lips made kissing noises five seconds after my mouth had parted from his. “I had a feeling you were going to be stubborn about this,” I said with a sigh, but rose from where I was sitting on the edge of the bed.

  Eva left the draught on a small round table and departed with a murmured offer of further help if it was needed.

  “Not stubborn,” Hallow said, his face twisted with pain when he rolled onto his side and swung his legs to the floor. He weaved for a few seconds, and I braced myself to catch him in case he swooned again. “Foolish for letting Deo tackle Lyl, perhaps, but that was not due to being stubborn. I need to be up because I have news to impart to Deo, and I suspect he has some for us. Odd.”

  “What is?” I asked, fetching his boots, and helping him on with them. I decided that he’d have to forego his tunic, despite the fact that Idril would no doubt ogle Hallow’s fabulous chest.

  “You. When did you become twins?”

  I glanced up in surprise. “Are you seeing double? Oh, Hallow, your head is damaged. I knew it! That son of a whore’s left buttock! If he hadn’t run away like the coward he is after blowing you up, I’d hang him by his balls. Then I’d geld him, sew his balls back on, and hang him by them again! Lie back down, love. You need rest more than anything else.”

  He gave a little laugh, rubbing his thumb across my bottom lip. “Many people have told me I’m not right in the head, but I never expected my beloved wife to do so. No, my heart, I am not injured. At least, not in the way you mean. My vision is just a bit wobbly right now, no doubt due to the pain syrup you gave me rather than a blow to the head.” He frowned for a few seconds, glancing around the small room. “You did say Red Eva, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. She’s the local harlot, but she’s also evidently a healer. A very good one, I think, since she didn’t do anything that Sandor wouldn’t approve of, and Sandor is the best healer I know. Can you stand if I’m at your side?”

  “Always,” he said, giving me a slightly lecherous look, despite drooping eyelids that told me just how sleepy the moonflower syrup was making him. He paused when I took one of his arms, helping him out to the common area of the bawdy house, now thankfully empty of the regular occupants. “Why do I hear no sounds of battle?”

  It took me a moment to understand what he was asking. “The Askia slew the dirgesingers.”

  His eyebrows rose. “All of them?”

  “All of them.” I pushed away the memory of the remains they’d left behind. “Once they made sure that the only survivors were a few Starborn in the trench, they took off themselves. The headman said the last he saw, they were heading south, along the road that we’d come on.”

  “Interesting,” he said, his fingers twitching as if they itched to make notes. “And I take it Lyl ran off after he blasted us all to Bellias and back?”

  “In the most craven fashion, yes.” We negotiated the several wooden stools and chairs scattered around the low-ceilinged room to where a small grouping of softer furnishings were arranged by the fire. “And by that I mean that not only did he not remain so that Deo could beat the peewadding out of him, but he left most of his army.”

  “He left his men?” Hallow asked, nodding at Quinn when the latter rose and offered him the comfortable chair upon which he’d been sitting. “He just left them behind?”

  “They’re outside now,” Quinn said, tipping his head toward one of the small windows. “Trying to make themselves comfortable amongst the people they said Lyl intended to attack. You can imagine how welcome the villagers are making them feel.”

  “All but Red Eva,” Ella said, bringing a three-legged stool forward for me and setting it next to Hallow’s chair. I made sure he had a goblet of wine before I sat beside him, my worry for him battling with my need to be chasing down Lyl and making him pay for almost killing us. “She’s out there with her ladies and three men she calls man minxes, all of whom are doing a brisk trade.”

  “Right out there in the open?” I asked, a sudden desire to see such a thing causing me to get back onto my feet. “Where anyone can see? And she has male harlots, too? What sort of services to do they provide, exactly?”

  “Wife,” Hallow said in what I’m sure he intended to be a stern tone. He caught my hand and pulled me back down onto the stool before I could take more than a step toward the door. “Now is not the time to investigate harlots, male or female, nor their range of services, although if the rates posted on the wall are anything to go by, they must be quite comprehensive.”

  “Hmm,” I said, eyeing Hallow.

  “What does that hmm mean?” he asked, leaning toward me to whisper in my ear, his eye crinkles making me feel—as ever—both hot and cold at the same time.

  “It means I’m wondering how long it will take you to heal, and if the harlots hold any sorts of classes that I might attend,” I whispered back. Cool air swirled around us when the door opened and Deo and Idril came in arguing loudly.

  “—don’t care how good you feel Tribe of Idril sounds, we must take care of the god Nezu before we return to Aryia. Is that wine Hallow is guzzling? Has he left any for the rest of us?” Deo marched over to where we sat, a familiar martyred look upon his face.

  “Yes,” I said, lifting the ewer of wine Red Eva had provided us, asking in the sweetest tone I could, “Would you like to drink it, or wear it?”

  “And I say that since Nezu has apparently retreated to the spirit world, then we have time to go back to Aryia to cast my father out of Abet and claim the tribe.” Idril smacked Deo on the arm, giving him a pointed look until he gestured toward one of the chairs, and offered her the goblet of wine I’d just poured him.

  “Tribe of Idril?” Hallow asked at the same time that Deo, with a glare at me, held out a second goblet. I poured him wine as well, before retaking my seat next to Hallow.

  “You have to admit, it has a nice ring to it,” she said with her usual placid expression, sipping delicately at the wine.

  Deo looked as if he wanted to argue the point, but instead he sat and considered Hallow. “If you are able to sit and drink, and make sheep’s eyes at Allegria, you must not be as near death as I assumed you were when I carried you here.”

  “He isn’t making sheep’s eyes,” I responded, my temper running high for some reason. Ever since we’d left the spirit realm, I felt as if my hold on it was fraying. �
��He never makes sheep’s eyes!”

  I turned to look at Hallow, only to find him watching me with eyes that held mingled desire and sleepiness. “That’s not sheep’s eyes,” I told Deo, pointing at Hallow. “That’s the moonflower syrup to take away the pain.”

  “Looks like sheep to me,” murmured Quinn, who’d been down to the cellar to help himself to a small cask of Red Eva’s rum. He poured some for himself and Ella, and even Dexia when she held out her mug expectantly. “Lady Idril, might I offer you some of this truly excellent rum? It will lighten your heels and gladden your spirits.”

  “Thank you, no,” she replied with a gracious nod of her head toward him. “My mother would be restless in her afterlife if she thought I was indulging in rough spirits.”

  “How does she feel about your wedding every man you meet?” Deo asked in a smooth voice that had me giggling to myself.

  Idril narrowed her eyes at him.

  “What sort of classes?” Hallow’s whisper tickled against my ear.

  “Hmm?” I frowned, confused for a few seconds, until I remembered the earlier part of the conversation.

  His breath brushed my ear. “If you are under the impression that you need instruction in the art of lovemaking, I’m happy to tell you to save your coin, because you are perfectly versed in that particular field. So much so, you leave me as limp as a bumblepig in the heat of the sun.”

  I allowed a little bit of pride to show in the smile I gave him. “You get some of the credit. I admit my part is harder, because all of my bits are tucked away where they can’t get into any trouble, but I don’t want you thinking you’re shirking your share of the work.”

  He tried to give me one of his normally smooth bows, but the movement had him flinching in pain. “You are graciousness personified. Also, seduction personified, and delightful, endless nights of pleasure personified.”

  “And you’re delightfully silly when you’ve had moonflower syrup,” I said, leaning over to kiss him. I stopped when Deo cleared his throat loudly.

  “If you could refrain from having your way with Hallow right here in front of us, we have a few plans to make.” Deo ignored the sour look I flashed his way, waiting until I pressed a not-so-chaste kiss to Hallow’s cheek and sat back on the wooden stool. He took a moment to let his gaze wander over all of us. “Idril’s desire to claim the Tribe of Jalas as her own notwithstanding, I wish to return to Aryia as soon as possible. Thus, we need to send Nezu back to Eris, so that I may do so.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t,” Ella said in her soft voice. I slid her a glance, not having had much opportunity to see how she fared. She looked well enough, her color a bit high, but there was something in her eyes, a shadow that had me curious as to why she had arrived with Quinn and Dexia. When I’d been dragged into the spirit realm, I had assumed that Hallow would keep an eye on her, but it seemed that Quinn had taken over the job.

  The others all turned to look at her.

  “Oh. I…er…” Her blush deepened, her hands fluttering a little as she stammered out an earnest, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt this important conference, but if you could possibly not send Lord Racin—Lord Nezu, that is—back to Eris, we would all be so grateful. The Shadowborn, that is. The family I lived with suffered most grievously under his rule, as did our entire village, and I imagine all the other villages. To be freed from that tyranny only to have it thrust back upon us is unthinkable.”

  “She has a point,” I said, glancing at Hallow. “We saw well enough the sort of devastation he wrought upon the Shadowborn. I can’t blame them for not wanting him back.”

  “The question then becomes where will we send him if we don’t return him to Eris?” Hallow frowned, one of his long fingers rubbing absently around the lip of the goblet. Little fires kindled within me at the memory of the touch of those fingers, making me wonder how quickly Red Eva’s healing herbs would work.

  “Does it matter, so long as he is rendered without power?” Deo asked, making an impatient gesture. “I would prefer that he be killed outright, but since it’s impossible to kill a god, the best we can hope for is to confine him somewhere that he can live his life out of our way, where he can do us no harm.”

  Hallow’s brows continued to pull together in a little frown as he considered Nezu’s fate. That look of worry was a familiar one, at least since I had seen him at the Altar of Day and Night. “If only Kiriah hadn’t forsaken me again,” I muttered, still fuming over the way she was toying with me.

  “Kiriah has forsaken you?” Deo, who had been in the middle of telling Idril that if she could just stop marrying random men long enough to wed him, he would be able to take up her cause, paused to shoot me a look that pierced me down to my soul. “You are no longer a lightweaver?”

  “Of course she’s a lightweaver,” Hallow said quickly, coming to my defense. “Just because she hasn’t been able to weave light exactly the same way she did before the portal appeared in Abet doesn’t mean she’s not still blessed in Kiriah’s sight. As I keep pointing out to her.”

  I gave his cheek another kiss, this time accompanied by a quick fondle to his thigh. “Thank you for believing in me even when I doubted that. As it happens—” I hesitated a minute, then decided there was no reason not to tell everyone of my experiences. Quickly, I recounted my time spent in the spirit world, followed by the appearance of Nezu, and how Kiriah’s power seemed to flow in and through me.

  “You channeled Kiriah Sunbringer again?” Hallow asked at the same time Deo leaped to his feet. “You have one of the moonstones?”

  “Yes, to both.” I dug into the inner pocket of my tunic, and pulled out the bit of cloth wrapped around the stones. “Sadly, it broke when I tried to banish Nezu.”

  Six heads bent over the four broken bits of crystal that lay on the table before us.

  “They look…” Idril prodded one of the pieces with the tip of an elegant finger. “Dead.”

  “You killed the moonstone?” Deo asked, outrage dripping from his words. “Do you know how important a tool those are to us?”

  “Of course I know,” I snapped, guilt pricking my temper. “I was there when your traitorous follower stole them and gave them to Nezu, after all.”

  “It wasn’t my fault that Mayam betrayed me. She wasn’t one of my Banes, and thus wasn’t officially a follower—” Deo started to protest, but stopped when Hallow held up a hand.

  “I believe our time would be better spent focusing our attention on how to defeat Nezu now that we know he’s close, rather than flinging accusations about.” Hallow looked tired now, his shoulders slumping as he tried to make himself comfortable in the chair. “In fact, I have a feeling that we would be best served to hear just how everyone ended up in this town at the same time.”

  “We came from Deeptide to find you,” Idril said, sipping again from her cup. I couldn’t help but notice that even though she’d evidently been on the road for days, she looked as pristine as if she’d spent the day in her solar. “Deo insisted we help you after he killed his Banes, so that is what we did, despite my pointing out you are a great arcanist, and no doubt had no need of our help.”

  “On the contrary, I have every need of it. But let’s back up a step. Why did you kill your Banes?”

  Deo told a long tale about how his father had tried to oust Jalas from Abet, ending with the death of Sandor.

  “Blessed Kiriah, no!” I said on a gasp, pain lancing me at the words. “Sandor—she can’t be—Deo, was your father sure she was dead? Entirely dead? She is the head priestess of Kiriah, and much learned in the ways of battle. She is said to have fought the stone giants who remained when the Fireborn were first brought here. Perhaps she was just gravely wounded, and Lord Israel thought she was dead…”

  My words trailed off at the truth evident in Deo’s face. Although many thought of Deo as a hardened warrior, incapable of any emotions s
ave those suited to battle, I knew better. Guilt was visible in his eyes now, guilt and regret. No doubt he blamed himself for the loss of Sandor.

  I choked on the thought, tears burning the backs of my eyes. I reached blindly for Hallow, and suddenly, he was there, holding me close to his magnificent chest, allowing me to sob onto his shoulder, his hands warm on my back while he comforted me.

  “Really, Deo,” Idril said, her voice as light as a morning breeze. “Was there no other way to break the news to her?”

  What was this? Idril was chastising Deo on my behalf? I stopped crying long enough to glance over at her, mopping my eyes on my sleeve.

  “I take no pleasure in delivering bad tidings,” he told her, but his gaze, tinged with worry, was on me. “I felt it was better to get it over with quickly. Allegria is not weak. She will grieve as we all grieve for the loss of Lady Sandor, but she knows that nothing can be done to change what happened.”

  “No,” I said with a few more sniffles, glancing up at Hallow. His eyes, too, were filled with sadness and regret. “Nothing can change the past. But I’m going to risk Kiriah’s wrath by saying I hope the Banes you killed suffered just as Sandor did.”

  Wisely, Deo did not answer that statement, gazing instead into the fire with a pensive expression.

  “Considering the magic Deo unleashed on them also flattened half of Deeptide, not to mention sending the rest of it sliding into the sea, I believe you can be assured that they suffered,” Quinn said with only the slightest twist of his lips.

  Silence fell for a few minutes, long enough that we could hear noises from the square outside: voices raised in song, the murmur of people talking quietly, and occasional raucous laughter followed by feminine squeals.

  “And where are the queen and Lord Israel?” Hallow asked at last. I was about to sit back on the stool, but he pulled me down onto his lap, instead. I arranged myself carefully, making sure I didn’t lean on him in a way that would harm his healing back.