Into the Dark (Light Chaser Book 2)

by J B Cantwell

  "I wish you'd never come back," she went on. "You're like a curse upon us all."

  Angus didn't argue with her; he simply stood and took her abuse. That didn't keep Arte quiet, though.

  "This has nothing to do with him," he said angrily. He stood in front of Angus as if he alone could protect him. I might’ve laughed if it weren't all so sad.

  But it went on and on. One at a time, each giant in the group came to Arte and Angus and spat their disapproval. I was amazed that Arte and Angus were still standing by the end of the onslaught. I didn't try to defend them to each individual giant, but I knew if I didn't say something now, we would lose two valuable members of our group. Because that's what they were, what I saw them both as now, valuable.

  I found a boulder close by and climbed on top.

  "Giants!" I called. "You’ve all been through a terrible number of days, and we must all stand together now if we’re to make it through."

  A few people turned, and a few others ignored me. That was okay. Not everyone was excited to see battle. Me neither, and yet it seemed there was no escape. If I had my way, my end would come with Torin's end and not before. I supposed I might survive. But I suspected defeating Torin would be quite different than beating a son, a Wick, or a slave.

  "Tomorrow, we will journey to the bear," I went on. "The last Keeper of this place we know as the Shadow Mountains. From there you can all choose what to do with yourselves. Of course, you can leave us now, too, if that is your wish. But I think we have a better chance of survival if we stick together."

  They sat just a touch too far away from me for me to see their eyes, but if I had to guess, I would've thought many were glaring at me. Many more must’ve been tearful, too.

  "I can't tell you what to do, only what we need. I would be honored if you would accompany me to the top of this world."

  Nobody spoke. Nobody sneered or shouted. They just watched and, I hoped, listened.

  I stepped down from the rock and walked over to where Duna was sitting.

  "You gonna let me fix that knee?" she asked.

  "I suppose I should." I sat down in the dirt beside her, and she put one hand over my injured knee. I tried to take it in, the feeling of magical healing. It was a melting sort of sensation, warm and tingling. And she kept her hand there longer than she needed to. Then she patted me and sat back against her pack.

  "The bear, eh?"

  I nodded. "Short of running for the border of the mountains, it seems the wisest thing to do."

  "And what do you expect her to tell you?"

  "I'm not sure. Maybe she can tell me about the war, about what to expect. We've seen many of Torin's minions and developed different ways to protect ourselves from them, but there must be many more out there. Any man with a streak of darkness in his heart is in danger of becoming one of Torin's pupils."

  "And what about the streak of darkness in my heart?" she asked.

  I caught a tiny glint of light off her teeth, and I knew she was smiling.

  "That's a good point," I said. And it was. No man or woman could honestly say they only ever felt goodness within them. Anger, rage, jealousy; all of these things joined together to create a person. Just as kindness, patience, and love mingled with the bad.

  It made me wonder about that dream in which Torin told me that all of his followers were there by choice. I shouldn't have believed him. But the whole thing had seemed so real, and I realized now that if that meeting had really happened, it was likely he’d been lying. Because why would he tell me the truth?

  I suddenly felt like a fool, believing not just a dream but a dream filled with my enemy's lies. I’d come to see those dreams as being a true representation of the world I was headed for. In them I saw the armies, the followers, the beasts.

  But it was just my fear playing tricks on me, just as it had with the whispers.

  That was what I told myself now.

  I let myself lay back in the dirt as Duna did, letting each of my bones settle against the ground, and I realized it had been some time since I'd let my body rest. I’d been running on mostly Light and healing for the past few days, and while those things gave me power and brought me health, it wasn't enough to counter the pain I’d been through. The pain we’d all been through.

  Everyone settled in, and Angus walked around the group, putting up another layer of protection using the palms of his hands.

  "Where did you learn to do that?" I asked quietly as he approached.

  Duna rolled over to listen.

  "I don't know," he said. "I've just always been able to do it. Do you not have a power of your own?"

  I knew what he meant. He knew I was powerful, as did I. But I also knew that my power was not as great as his, Duna's, or even Connell's. I’d been able to heal, of course, but that's not what he was asking about. Everyone else with power had found something they could do, something magical from which they would never tire. Duna could heal, Angus could cloak, Tosia could hide, and Trina could fly.

  When she'd been alive.

  I opened my mouth but then closed it again. I didn't have a proper answer, only questions of my own. Questions that had no answer. Not yet.

  "You'll find it," he said.

  "Oh, shut up," Duna said. "Don't come back here and tell this girl something like that as if you know what you're talking about. You're no father. And you're no friend."

  I wanted to say something to this, to defend him in some way, but I found myself silent, unable to come up with anything. Because she was right. I’d made a tentative peace with Angus, but the truth was that he had once massacred his own family. Under Torin's rule or not, the fact remained.

  Angus didn't argue, simply nodded his head and walked by, leaving us to our own conversation.

  "Don't you let him get to you," she said. "He thinks he knows us, but he doesn't. He's been gone for a thousand years. Don't forget that."

  Her words, while harsh, were comforting. Everything about Duna seemed to be that way. She was a barometer of truth. Good or bad news; it didn't matter to her. But she was always real and always honest.

  "I'm tired," I said.

  "Are you kidding me? I just healed you. I just…"

  "I'm not that kind of tired. My body is fine, ready for action. It's my mind."

  And my heart.

  "Take a rest, then, sister. Tomorrow you'll have to do it all again. You may as well get used to it."

  She was right. But when I rolled over and closed my eyes, all I could see was Torin's face staring back at me. I drew one of my knives and held it close to my chest, hoping that I would be able to bring it with me onto the battlefield of my dreams.

  I wanted to see the dawn, but none came. We were awakened from our slumber by Arte. This irritated me, not because he woke me, but because it was him. Whether or not I believed his story or Angus's didn't matter when it came to things of comfort. How I would've wished to feel Grandmother's hand instead upon my shoulder.

  "Get your hands off me," Duna snarled.

  I sat up, but I didn't bother to rub my eyes. Standing, I grabbed my pack and walked over to where Angus stood.

  "Do you know the way?" I asked.

  “I’ve walked these mountains for a thousand years, but I’ve never been to the bear. I can show you the path, but I won't be joining you."

  "Why not?"

  "I can only do as much as I can," he said. "She’ll destroy me. She's the master of this land. Those who come and go do so at her whim. I dare not sully her feet by kneeling before her."

  My chest tightened.

  "And what do you think she’ll make of me?" I asked.

  "I don't know what's in your heart, but she will. That’s the only thing I can tell you for certain." He turned, then, and walked back to the group.

  Within a quarter-hour, everyone was up and moving. Most ate gyvu as they walked, but I wasn't hungry.

  "You should at least have a bite," Duna said, smacking her lips. She shoved a hunk of gyvu in front of
my mouth. I relented and took a bite. It was good, of course, but I still found it difficult to swallow.

  The air had grown colder overnight, and I shivered as I walked, eager to warm up. I wasn't the only one; the giants were moving at a fast pace as well.

  I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was when it started to snow. I’d only experienced snow once in my life, when I was a young child. One morning the sky above opened up and released a million tiny flakes, coating Eagleview in a veil of frozen winter. It was before I’d become a troublesome teenager, and I delighted in the cold, white stuff. I wasn't the only one. Several other children of all ages, even some of the adults, left their houses, their trading stalls, and they lifted their faces to the sky. Some of them even stuck out their tongues to catch the flakes.

  The kids tried to pile it up high and then cut tunnels through for crawling. I was one of these, and as I reached the opening, someone threw a snowball straight at my face. If I’d been younger, I might've cried. But I was ten, and it was revenge, instead, that I sought. I raced after the offender as soon as I got my feet under me, but he was too quick, disappearing behind the others who had come out to witness this unusual event.

  Still, I collected a handful of snow, ready to hit him in the face should he return.

  He didn't. There were plenty of other places to go in the kingdom, but I wanted to stay close to home. After a while, Grandmother came out and called me inside. The light snow had become a storm, and now thick snowflakes blanketed the rooftops and the ground. I hesitated for a moment, but when I saw the look on her face, I knew I must obey.

  Together we watched the landscape transform from a dirty side street into a wonderland of white. She didn't let me go out again, as the snow had grown so thick that I could’ve barely walked in it.

  Looking back, I supposed that the storm had been unnatural. It was the only time I’d ever seen snow, and grandmother also said it had been a generation since she’d experienced cold so frigid.

  Now, I wrapped my cloak tightly around my body as flakes began to descend.

  "Does it usually snow here?" I asked Duna.

  She held out her hands. "What? This stuff? Not in my lifetime."

  Her answer seemed to increase the cold that was growing in my body. It was unnatural, then, likely a trick that Phalen had devised. Somehow he knew that we needed to ascend the mountain in order to have an audience with the bear, and I knew that the slick rocks could be the death of us all. Only I, with my hands' ability to stick to the side of a vertical wall, might make it on my own.

  "How far are we to the base of the mountain where the bear resides?" I asked Angus as he approached.

  "A day," he said. "Maybe two."

  I looked up at the sky, and my heart sank. Everyone was already shivering, and I knew the journey would be difficult for them to weather.

  "Maybe I should go and leave the rest here," I said.

  "That's probably exactly what he wants," Duna said, her ragged hair quickly made white by the snow. "It would be stupid of you to do it alone."

  "Who else would come? The giants are already freezing, and there will be no way to keep them warm."

  "I'll come," Duna said.

  I raised my eyebrows, but then I found both Connell and Kaelin joining us in our conversation.

  "We'll go as well," Kaelin said.

  I huffed.

  "You must have a death wish, then."

  "Maybe Kaelin does," Connell said with a smirk. "But Duna and I have significant magic. It can keep us alive should things go wrong."

  "Where will you take them?" I asked Angus.

  "There must be caves around here," he said.

  "But don't you know already?" I said.

  He shook his head.

  "It's true that I've lived a long time in these mountains, and I’ve explored them many times, but even I don’t know every secret they possess. We’ll seek out somewhere dry, perhaps up a ways before the land is completely coated with this unnatural snow. We’ll wait it out."

  "Good," I said. "Then meet us on the edge of the mountain range. Hopefully, we'll be able to find one another when this is all through."

  "I'm going with you," a soft voice said from behind Angus.

  He shifted and looked behind him, exposing Tosia, who walked into the middle of our group. Her face was sad and determined. I knew there was no way I’d be able to stop her from joining us.

  "Yes," Kaelin said. "You must join us. It’ll do you no good to stay and grieve."

  "That’s ludicrous," Angus said. "She's just a girl, and an untrained sorceress at that."

  "You have no say in this matter," I said, irritated. "We'll tell the group, and those who wish to join us can."

  I turned around and faced the giants, and I found that many had been listening already.

  "Whoever wants to join us, we are leaving in fifteen minutes," I called. "It will be dangerous."

  And while I knew that this was true, I wondered how dangerous it was to leave them in Angus's care.

  Trust. That was what this whole thing was all about—whom to trust. Perhaps if I’d been a giant, I might've preferred to stay behind, too.

  But I was no giant, and these were not my people, despite the kinship I felt with them.

  I turned to Tosia.

  "Are you sure you're up for this? It will be dangerous."

  "No more dangerous than staying here."

  She was right, and I wondered how many other giants might feel the same. Some of the others had forgiven Arte so easily, and many had accepted Angus among their numbers as one of them. Even with the displays of anger from the night before, they still followed.

  How quickly they'd forgotten.

  And forgiven.

  Maybe I could learn from them, but now didn't seem to be the time. I knew there was a fine line between kindness and ignorance. I had no desire to stay.

  The rest of them did, though. Angus was making his way through the crowd, telling them what was upon us. I wondered how many regretted leaving their homes in Ezvar. I had tapped into a source of power within them, getting them to follow me out of that place. But now they were homesick, a feeling I understood very well. I just hoped they didn't turn back.

  "I think we're ready," Kaelin said.

  He, too, was covered in the flakes, a reality that worried me. Somehow, we needed to make it up the side of a mountain through a driving storm. The snowbanks would make our journey longer, and I hoped Angus's time estimation was off. I felt ready to climb right now, ready to get it over with.

  Somebody once told me that I should live life moment by moment, not forever waiting for it to finally end. Probably, it had been Grandmother. But despite her wisdom, and with the memory of her warm hug, I wished for these days to end.

  I hoped I would survive them.

  Chapter 27

  I put up a barrier to protect us from the driving wind and frozen flakes, but it did nothing for the cold and little for the snow already on the ground. The storm was too intense for my magic to banish completely, and we were left shivering as we climbed over the growing snowbanks.

  I pulled the hood of my cloak over my head and fastened all the closures. It didn't take long before the snow was up to my knees. The trek wasn’t enough to keep me warm, either. I knew it wouldn't be too long before we'd need to stop, and it had only been an hour.

  The only good thing about the snow that I could think of was that it made it easier to see. These were the Shadow Mountains, and they were nearly black all the time, but the scant bit of light that made it through the thick clouds above was enough to bounce off the snow, letting us see a little more clearly without having to use magic.

  Kaelin was at the front of the group, and I trod my way through the snowdrifts to catch up with him.

  "How are you doing back there?" he asked.

  "Frozen."

  "Yes. It may not be too much farther before we need to stop. The snow is only growing deeper, and I fear soon it will be to
our waists."

  Of course, the height of a giant's waist was nearly as tall as my whole body. While embarrassing, I knew that it wouldn't be long before someone would need to carry Connell and me.

  "Duna can warm us all as we go," I said. "We need to move as far along the path as we can. We can take short breaks throughout the day to dry off. There's no point in stopping, though. If we do, he'll just make it more difficult."

  Nobody asked whom I was talking about because there was only one answer. Torin might have sons and followers and slaves, but he was the mastermind behind it all. More than any of the others, he was the one who desired to bring pain.

  Just remember, you can join him.

  I shook my head violently at the thought. Why had I thought it at all? Because it would be easier?

  I took a moment, and I realized that yes, it would be easier. Easier to accept the help of one so powerful as he was. Easier to know with full clarity what my place in the world was.

  My stomach turned at the thought of standing by his side, a comfort.

  I wasn't too far gone yet.

  We took three breaks that day, and by the last, we’d spent all of our energy. No one had brought gyvu, but if anyone had, I doubted they would've eaten it. I tried to imagine the cold fruit hurting my teeth, freezing my insides as it went down my throat, and I wondered if I would ever eat a hot meal again.

  I got up and walked to Tosia, who was sitting on the outside of the group, looking out from the cave entrance. Perhaps she was hoping that there had been some kind of mistake, that her sister would arrive soon, miraculously still alive.

  I sat down beside her, but I didn't speak. I knew there was nothing I could say to ease her pain. I wondered what Grandmother would've done if it had been me who'd sustained such a loss. She would’ve put a warm hand on my cheek and hugged me close. But my hands were cold, and I highly doubted an embrace from me would bring Tosia any comfort.

  So I sat.

  The others whispered behind us, quietly enough that I couldn't hear their voices clearly. Part of me felt nervous about this, like maybe they were regretting their choice to follow me. But I knew this couldn't be true. This group of us represented the strongest of the remaining giants, and Connell, well, he was a given.