Slight and Shadow (Fate's Forsaken: Book Two)

by Ford, Shae

  The lion tried to change directions in mid-leap. His body twisted to the side and his limbs flailed madly in the open air. But try as he might, he couldn’t stop himself, and he wound up crashing into the unforgiving scales of Kyleigh’s stomach.

  No sooner had he flopped to the ground than he tried to dash away, but she caught his tail in one of her massive foreclaws. Then she began dragging him towards her, slowly.

  He hissed and slapped her arms with his claws. The blows he landed would’ve torn the hide off a full-grown deer, but Kyleigh hardly felt them. When the lion’s claws glanced harmlessly off her scales, he began to wriggle desperately. Kyleigh tightened her grip and brought him to her face, holding him up by his tail.

  She’d never liked cats. They were arrogant, spiteful creatures who claimed loyalty to no one but themselves. Cats preferred to crouch in the brush instead of meeting their prey outright. They went after young things, sickly things, and they had no respect at all for territory.

  This cat was no exception. When he realized that his claws were useless, he roared defiantly in her face. And Kyleigh couldn’t help it: she roared back.

  He squirmed as her voice shook the room. The crystals of the chandelier tinkled as the deep tones made them quiver on their fastenings. She flung the lion away by his tail, and he struck the bookshelves hard. His body went limp as he fell behind the desk.

  Kyleigh thought she’d accidentally killed him. And in her disappointment, she dropped back on all fours.

  Her horns got caught up in the chandelier. Dust fell across her snout as it ripped from its fastenings, and she couldn’t save it: the great, golden decoration crashed to the ground. The crystals shattered and went flying in every direction, spraying across the room like droplets of water.

  Kyleigh hardly had a chance to groan before a voice cried out: “Enough! I yield!”

  The cat wasn’t dead at all: he was back in his human form, crouching behind the toppled desk. His eyes peeked out at her from over the top of it — the rest of him was hidden. “Mercy,” he said, as he tried to rise. But he stopped and swayed, paling a bit as he gripped the top of his head.

  Kyleigh arched her back. Her bones creaked a bit as they shrank, and her skin tingled as it slid back into place. The change always made her feel a little unsteady for a moment, as if she was returning right-side up after having gazed at the world upside down. But she’d had a lot of practice, and it only took a moment to get used to her human gait.

  Her boots kicked up sharp bits of crystal as she strode to the front of the desk. Her fingers curled at her sides when she smelled the fresh blood that stained the cat’s hair. There was a part of her that wanted to kill him, and the scent of his blood made it swell dangerously in her chest.

  Half of her clamored for his death — and it was always rather satisfying to stomp on the head of an enemy. But that was an animal thing to do. And Kyleigh had been trying hard to live more like a human, which meant that she couldn’t give in to her animal desires. No, she would deal with the lion in proper human fashion.

  “Why should I offer you mercy?” she said, her voice low. “You’ve crossed into my territory without permission, entered my den without asking. You came here to kill me —”

  “No, that isn’t why I’ve come.” He gripped the front of the desk and leaned forward. “I wasn’t trying to kill you: I was testing you.”

  Kyleigh laughed. She’d almost forgotten how sly cats could be — especially when they were beaten. “Testing me, hmm? Then tell me: how did it go? Did you find your tail-lashing satisfactory … or shall we continue?”

  A playful smirk bent his lips. “You didn’t defeat me. I just needed to make sure you were strong enough to serve my purpose.” He leaned back and pointed his chin at her. “The birds called you a great white serpent … but I can see now that you are much more. You are a dragoness.”

  “Really brilliant. What gave me away?”

  He seemed confused for half a second, then he laughed. “You’ve spent too much time around the humans,” he purred. “Methinks you’re turning into one.”

  Kyleigh frowned. Now that they stood only a few paces apart, she got a better look at his eyes. There were none of the softening lines she found in human eyes, none of the thought or emotion. They were completely untamed — as untouched as the wildest corner of the Kingdom … and as unforgiving as stone.

  Now she understood why she wanted to kill him so badly: there was no human left in him.

  “What happened to the boy?” she demanded.

  The cat bared his teeth in a grin. “He was weak, dragoness. He entered the battle far too young, and I defeated him easily.”

  Kyleigh clenched her fists tightly, but managed to keep the anger off her face.

  The magic required to become a shapechanger was particularly dangerous. After all, binding two souls into one body was no common spell: it required an offering of blood, and a ritual. And sometimes things went horribly wrong.

  Only one soul could have control over their shapes, and if a man’s soul wasn’t strong enough to control the animal, then the animal would control him. Kyleigh was a woman who just happened to be able to take the shape of a dragon.

  But this was a lion masquerading as a man.

  “I’ll admit that I did like one thing about the human: his name,” the cat went on, smirking at the disgust on Kyleigh’s face. “Silas. It’s regal, don’t you think? I took it for myself as a sort of … tribute.”

  Though she found his smirk undeniably annoying, his confession made her think. “Silas?”

  He nodded.

  “You’ve given yourself a name?” When he nodded again, she crossed her arms. “That’s odd. I thought you great cats didn’t give yourselves names. I thought you just relied on your stench —”

  “The name is for your benefit, not mine,” Silas growled. “Every beast in the mountains knows me by my scent. You are unfamiliar with it.”

  “Still, it seems rather … human, of you.”

  His upper lip pulled back threateningly over his teeth. “Humanity is weakness, dragoness. And you’ll find no weakness in me.”

  Kyleigh wasn’t convinced. She thought Silas might’ve been a little more human than he let on — which wasn’t all that surprising, really. Cats tended to keep their pride in the most ridiculous places.

  “I haven’t traveled all this way to chatter with you,” he murmured. His lip fell back and haughtiness smoothed his features once again. “It is a small matter, but —”

  “Stop. Cover up.”

  He’d begun to slink out from behind the desk, and his clothes still lay in a mangled heap on the other side of the room. Kyleigh had no wish to see him naked.

  Silas smirked at her. “My, my … we are human, aren’t we?” But he reached behind him and ripped a curtain off the window without a fuss. He fastened it around his waist as he spoke. “Humans are actually the reason I’ve come. They’ve been invading my mountains, and I want them gone.”

  “Humans have always lived in the mountains,” Kyleigh said, narrowing her eyes.

  Silas inclined his head. “True, but not quite like this. There is a vast gathering of swordbearers — all wearing a wolf upon their chests. And they’ve brought magic with them.”

  “Then they won’t last long.”

  There was a force in the Unforgivable Mountains that bent its will against magic. Kyleigh had spent years wandering through the mountains — searching for a name she couldn’t remember, bound by a task she couldn’t forget. The rocks had sharpened themselves against her steps. She’d felt a mumbled warning in every breath of biting cold, and through the haunting, starless nights.

  The magic in her blood quaked against the mountains’ spirit, and it had taken every ounce of her courage to stay put. She knew without a doubt that she hadn’t been welcome.

  Silas’s smirk disappeared, and his face turned serious. “I thought so, as well. But it’s as if these shamans are imprisoned. I get close to them, s
ometimes.” He smirked and looked to the window. His nose twitched as the rain pattered against it. “I can smell the fear on them, dragoness. I know they wish to flee, and yet … they do not. What is it that keeps them bound to the swordbearers? I do not know.” He turned from the window and fixed her with a defiant glare. “But their spells have left wounds on the land that will take lifetimes to heal. They’ve carved a great path from the bottom, and everyday it creeps skyward. It won’t be long before they reach the summit.”

  This was the most troubling news Kyleigh had heard all season. She’d underestimated Titus, then. She thought the Earl of the Unforgivable Mountains would march just high enough to chase her down. Once she was gone, she thought he’d leave.

  In all her years of hiding, she must’ve forgotten just how focused Titus could be. He wasn’t content to stop halfway up: he wanted all of it. And it sounded as if he was using his slavemages to clear the way.

  “They’ve stolen my hunting grounds, dragoness,” Silas continued, breaking her from her thoughts.

  When he stepped out from behind the desk, she couldn’t even enjoy how ridiculous he looked with a flower-patterned curtain wrapped around his waist. She was far too concerned with darker things.

  “What does this have to do with me?”

  “Well, I don’t need your help,” he said with a shrug, half-turning from her. “However, as your strength would make things easier for me, I’m willing to offer you a place as my companion — but only until we have the mountains cleared out.”

  Kyleigh snorted. “Your companionship is hardly a prize. In fact, I think I’d rather have my —”

  “Fine,” he snarled, turning. “Help me chase the swordbearers off my lands, and I’ll grant you a favor in return.”

  She didn’t think a cat would be much use to her under any circumstances. “I can’t help you.”

  He clenched his fists at his side — glaring like a child denied sweets after dinner. “Why not? My terms are fair enough, even for a human!”

  “Your terms aren’t the problem,” Kyleigh said testily. “I haven’t got the time to help you. I’m afraid I’ve got another task on my plate.”

  “What task?”

  “It doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that I’m far too busy —”

  “Arrr!”

  The library doors slammed open and Shamus burst through, followed closely by a small company of men. They brandished their swords and looked furious enough to go to war as they charged. But their boots skidded to a halt when they saw the ravaged state of the library.

  In the silence of their shock, Kyleigh heard the sound of footsteps approaching — practiced and swift. She hardly had a chance to groan before Crumfeld stepped into the room.

  “My lady! I’ve brought reinforce …”

  His words died. The silver candlestick he’d been wielding like a club slipped out of his hands and clunked to the floor. He saw the lounge chair first, broken and lying in a mangled heap with the stuffing spilled out of the cushions, and his mouth fell open. His eyes widened to take in the overturned desk, with its polished top all scuffed and scratched. He let out an indignant gasp when he spotted the curtain wrapped around Silas’s waist.

  But then he saw the chandelier … and his shock sent him stumbling backwards.

  “What — why?” he squeaked, slapping a hand to the side of his long face.

  Kyleigh took a deep breath. “Things got a bit out of hand —”

  “A bit?” he bellowed, his eyes wild. “A bit? Just — just look at what you’ve done! That chandelier took weeks to arrive!”

  “Yes, I’m aware —”

  “Well, are you aware that it was a special order from the desert? Or that the crystals were carved by hand to be perfectly equal in size and weight?”

  “No, but —”

  “But what?” he shrilled. He took a few stiff steps towards her, and Kyleigh leaned back. She’d never seen Crumfeld come so thoroughly unhinged. It was quite a fearsome thing to behold.

  “Grab him, lads,” Shamus said, and two guards wrangled Crumfeld by the shoulders. “Take him to his chambers and have one of the kitchen ladies bring him up a stiff tankard of ale.” Crumfeld slumped in their hold, shaking his head and muttering nonsense to himself, and Shamus frowned. “On second thought — make it a flagon.”

  When they’d dragged him away, Shamus’s eyes flicked around the room again. He whistled. “If you don’t mind me asking — what exactly did happen, here?” He glanced at Silas. “And what are you doing with a half-naked fellow in the library?”

  Silas waved his hand. “It’s not nearly as exciting as you think. Just a small tussle.”

  “Small, eh?”

  “Yes. She’s lucky I wasn’t better prepared.”

  Kyleigh glared at him. “You’re lucky I’m in a merciful mood.” She turned to Shamus — who looked as if he was struggling to follow a foreign language. “Find our guest some accommodations for the night, will you? Someplace with holes in the roof, preferably. He’s very fond of the rain.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Silas murmured, sidling up to her. “I think I’ll be quite comfortable in the stables.”

  Kyleigh narrowed her eyes at him. “Absolutely not.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll spook the horses.”

  He was the picture of innocence. “My dear drag — ah, human female,” he amended, with a quick glance at Shamus, “you insult me. I would never eat a fence animal. They’re much too fattening.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Shamus — holes in the roof, puddles on the floor, and a lock on the door. You are to be gone by morning’s light,” she added to Silas, making her voice severe. “And if I catch one whiff of your stinking hide in my territory again, I’ll wear your skin for a cape.”

  “As you wish,” he said with a mocking bow. He was still grinning when the guards hauled him away.

  *******

  They left before the sun. Kyleigh led Jake through the winding halls and across the courtyard with ease. It was the breath between shifts when the guards weren’t at their posts, and so there was nothing but the fading braziers to see them off. Kyleigh hoped Shamus wouldn’t flog the men too badly for letting her slip out unnoticed — she did have a rather unfair advantage.

  They made it to the front gates without incident, and Kyleigh rapped Knotter awake.

  “Mmm, what? What is it?” he murmured groggily. His wooded eyes creaked open and he frowned when he saw Jake. “Oh hello, father. Come to try and disenchant me again?”

  Jake reddened — as he always did when Knotter mocked him. “Just open the latch, you stupid apparition.”

  Knotter’s eyes widened when he saw Kyleigh in full armor. “Why? Are we under attack? Should I sound the alarm —?”

  “No,” Jake hissed, gripping his staff. “Can’t you see we’re trying to slip out quietly?”

  Knotter’s mouth bent into an obnoxious smile. “Ah, so it’s finally official between you two, is it?”

  “Open, or I swear I’ll burn you to ashes,” Kyleigh growled. Her ears twitched, straining over the sounds of the morning to pick up the muffled chatter in the distance. A new round of guards had approached the castle doors.

  “Fine,” Knotter said. He swung open just widely enough for them to squeeze through.

  Kyleigh paused, an idea suddenly came to her. “When Shamus realizes that we’ve gone, he’s going to send men out to find us.” She glanced up at Knotter. “Any chance you might be able to jam yourself for a few hours?”

  A look of delight crossed his face for half a moment, then it quickly faded into a frown. “Wait — is this some sort of test? Are you trying to trick me into jamming, just so you’ll have an excuse to torch me? Because if you are —”

  “It’s not a trick — it’s an order,” Kyleigh said quickly, her eyes on the castle doors. She heard the soft clink of the latch sliding upwards. “I need you to jam so we’ll have a chance to escape — and you’re not to t
ell them anything, understood? Just slip back into your knot and keep your mouth shut.”

  He huffed. “Well, I don’t relish playing the common bump —”

  “But you’ll do it anyways.”

  He gasped when Kyleigh kicked him shut.

  She led Jake off the road and through the empty forests around the village. There was a ship waiting for them along a stretch of beach a few miles outside of town, and she’d promised the captain that they’d be there by dawn. But Jake was dragging his feet.

  “Am I going to have to carry you?” she barked at him.

  He let out a heavy sigh and jogged up even with her. His pack bounced and rattled with his run. “No …”

  “Stop moping.”

  “I’m not moping —”

  “You are, and I won’t stand for it. Your spell worked exactly like we needed it to: the canteens don’t weigh us down at all.”

  Jake reached behind him, snatched a fistful of what appeared to be thin air, and shook it in her face. The sounds of sloshing water came from the empty space between his curled fingers. “No, not exactly — they’ve turned invisible!”

  “Well, we’ll just have to be careful not to set them down anywhere,” Kyleigh said distractedly. She slowed for a moment and sniffed the air. A heavy, damp scent crossed her nose. It smelled a bit like wet fur. The forest was probably rife with sopping animals, after the evening rain. So she didn’t think much of it.

  They walked for a few minutes more — with Jake complaining loudly that he was snugly in the running for the worst mage of all time — before she smelled something she recognized:

  It was the scent of pine … and annoyance.

  “Stop.” She grabbed Jake by his pack and glared pointedly at a boulder up the path. “I thought I warned you to stay out of my territory, cat.”

  And just as she’d suspected, a tawny mountain lion sprang from his cover and landed gracefully atop the boulder.