This bird was Arman’s answer to his prayer.
It carried him from the torchlights of camp. Each flap of its massive wings brought a warm gust of air on Achan’s neck and ears. In the darkness, Achan had no way of tracking which direction the bird flew. But Darkness quickly faded to a charcoal fog, then a grey haze, then a white cloud. Bits of blue peeked between fluffy white clouds. Achan could hear nothing but the occasional flap of wings and his own breath.
The bird dove into a leafy forest, soaring between trees. There was something grand about this place. The trees appeared greener. Or bigger. Maybe both. And the smell… Achan inhaled long and deep. Such sweetness had never entered his nostrils.
In the distance, a golden light shone between flaky bronze tree trunks, as if he were approaching a bonfire through a forest at night. The bird swooped between two massive redpines and entered a vast meadow. Thick grass stretched in every direction, hedged by the forest on all sides. Flowers in every color Arman had made filled the air with nectar.
Something white gleamed in the distance. As they neared, it took shape. A fence. As tall as any sentry wall. Made of white stone… or was that pearl? Whatever the substance, it was carved in scallops and scrolls and towered above the flowers clustered at its base.
Achan’s heart swelled. A full, giddy joy consumed his senses. Oh, to go inside such a place. If only the bird would carry him over the fence.
But the bird slowed and descended. Achan could see the blades of grass through his transparent boots. His gaze settled on a woman who was standing before the gate, her back to him. Her body was dwarfed in size by the splendor of the looming structure. She stared through the white bars as if hoping to go inside.
Sparrow.
The bird dropped Achan in the soft grass ten paces from the woman, then settled atop the pearly gate without a sound.
Achan stumbled forward.
Sparrow turned, and her wide eyes narrowed. “You!” She perched her hands on her hips. “Stop following me!”
Achan started to run, then remembered he wasn’t in his body, so he materialized at her side instead.
She screamed. “Do not do that.”
Over a head shorter than him, dressed in a scraggly brown peasant dress, one frizzy braid still intact, the other side, tangled and loose… she looked lovelier than ever.
But the expression on her face was more suited to Jaira Hamartano. Hard eyes, as if everything behind them mistrusted him. Lips drawn into a thin line. Cheeks flushed with accusation.
Achan gripped Sparrow’s arms, and though touching her did not feel the same as flesh on flesh, energy raced through him. “Step back from the gate, Sparrow. It’s dangerous.”
Her eyes widened at his touch, but, amazingly, she did not pull away. “How do you…? I have touched nothing for days. Yet this gate is solid. I am tired, Master Cham. This is not natural, is it, to be out of my body? Am I dead?”
“No. If it were your time, the gates would open.”
Her eyes flickered to meet his, so much greener in this place. “Really?”
He didn’t know. But it had sounded wise, so he nodded.
She scowled and tugged on Lady Averella’s sleeve that was still tied to his arm. “Where did you get this token?”
Heat filled his face. “Sparrow, I can explain.”
“Who gave it to you?”
He sighed. “Duchess Amal presented it to me in a missive offering her eldest daughter, Lady Averella, to be my bride. Sir Caleb and the others thought it was the best match.”
Sparrow shook her head. “That is impossible.”
“I’ll give it back. Sparrow, it’s you I want.”
She coughed out a dry laugh. “Nothing makes sense here. It must be a dream.” She turned back to the gate, gripped the bars, and shook them. “Arman! Open the gate. I beg You. I want to come home. Or wake up.” Sparrow stepped up onto the lowest hinge and heaved her body up. Grinning, she raised her foot to the next hinge.
Achan gazed up at her profile, at her lips set in a determined twist. “This is not your home, Sparrow. Not yet, anyway.”
“How do you know?”
“I feel it. We have much to do, you and I. We must help Arman push back Darkness. We must bring His light to all people, or at least to those who will believe.”
Sparrow’s brow furrowed. “You believe?”
“I do. I pledged my heart to Arman and accepted His Son’s sacrifice.” He sifted through his memories, seeking something she might find familiar. “Remember how we used to wrestle? When I thought you were a boy?”
Sparrow’s head turned, her eyes so wide that every bit of white showed. “I never!”
He breathed a silent laugh at her expression. How proper she was without her memory. “Remember the first time you knocked me down with a leg sweep? I loved you in that moment, though I didn’t understand it until later.”
Now her eyebrows sank. “You love me yet you wear that without my knowledge or consent?” She gestured toward the sleeve, then lost her balance and gripped the bars again, pulling her body tight against the gate.
“You left. You would not even speak to me. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Best wishes to you, Master Cham. Now if you will excuse me.” She heaved herself up another step. Then another. She was halfway up the gate. If she fell, would she float? Come to think of it, why didn’t she simply float up over the gate? Had she tried? Achan kept that thought to himself in fear she might attempt it and be lost forever.
But what else could he do? Something familiar, Sir Eagan had suggested. A smell or sound. An idea seized him that warmed his cheeks. He never considered himself a strong singer, but he could think of nothing else. At least no one but Sparrow was here to witness it. He cleared his throat and squinted up at her.
View not my face, I’m undone beside you.
The beating of my heart won’t cease.
While I’m near you, while I’m near you.
She stopped climbing and looked down. “What is that? What you are singing?”
He sounded like a fool, but if it would bring Sparrow back… He took a deep breath.
Pity on my heart from the day I first saw you.
Your pleasing face burns my memories.
Whenever we’re apart—
She shook her hand at him. “Stop that!”
Whenever we’re apart.
Though I’m nothing to you, I love you.
How can I make it known that I love you?
She gazed down, blinking as if something was in her eyes, then climbed down a step. “I know that song.”
“Yes,” Achan said. “We learned it in Berland.”
She climbed down another step. “I have never been to Berland.”
He held out a hand. “Oh, but you have.” He gripped her hand and helped her down to the grass. “A young woman named Yumikak sang this song to us.” He waggled his eyebrows. “She even danced with you.”
“There is nothing strange about women dancing together. I dance with my cousins all the time.”
He threaded his fingers in hers. “I suppose not. But this was strange, for you were pretending to be a boy.”
Sparrow’s eyes narrowed again, and she pulled out of his hold. “Of all the— Why would I do such a thing?”
“To protect yourself. To keep from becoming someone’s mistress.”
She gasped. “How dare you insinuate—”
Achan grabbed her shoulders and kissed her. Her energy poured into him, fresh and pure like water, quenching his thirst. She squirmed free and slapped him. It did not hurt, but the force caused him to sail sideways a few steps.
Then she squeaked, and her lips pursed as if she were blowing on something hot. “I have struck you before.”
Achan grinned and glided back to her. “Aye, you have.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve kissed you before.”
She folded her arms. “Then you deserved it both times.”
Achan shrugged
. “If you say so.”
She glanced back at the gates. “If I am not to enter Shamayim this day, what shall I do, Master Cham? For I can no longer bear wandering Er’Rets like a zephyr.”
“Go back to your body. Do you know where it is?”
“In a cabin in the Sideros Forest, for that is where Master Poe said his father’s cabin was.”
“Harnu? Why would he take your body?”
“Lord Nathak put my body in a casket. But before he left, Master Poe and Gren replaced my body with potatoes. It was all very exciting to watch. Master Poe suggested we stay in his father’s cabin until I wake. He was worried Lord Nathak would search Sitna once he found me gone.”
“I’m sure he was right.” Though Achan hated to concede anything to Harnu Poe. “How did you come to be in Sitna in the first place?”
“I do not remember, but from what Gren says, she and I were going to Armonguard.”
“What? Sparrow, Armonguard is no place for you. And how could you allow Gren to come with you?”
“I beg your pardon? You think I have some control over what Gren does? She is not my maid.”
“Your maid? What are you talking about? I can’t keep chasing after all you women. If you would stay put—stay where you’re supposed to be—”
“And where might that be, in your humble opinion?”
Achan narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know. You never told me where you lived.”
Sparrow propped her hands on her hips. “You claim to love me yet know not where I live? This I cannot fathom.”
“Just… never mind.” Achan seethed. The audacity of Sparrow to take Gren from Carmine. He simply could not comprehend what she had been thinking, nor could he—
SEEK PEACE AND PURSUE IT.
The heat of Arman’s voice knocked Achan senseless. Sparrow had turned her back to him, arms folded, gazing through the bars to Shamayim. He had no idea why she had made the choices she had, but his anger would not change them. He closed his eyes.
Arman, forgive my temper. Nothing matters but reuniting Sparrow with her body. Please, show me the way to this cabin. Help me to—
Sparrow squealed.
Achan opened his eyes to find the speckled hawk flapping overhead. Achan held out his hand. “The bird will take us to your body.”
Sparrow gripped his hand. The great speckled hawk lifted them by the backs of their clothes, Sparrow in one foot, Achan in the other. They twisted this way and that, so Achan put his arm around Sparrow’s waist to keep her steady. The bird flew away from the Pearly Gate, soared over the meadow, through the forest, and into the clouds.
“It moves quickly, does it not?” Sparrow said.
The clouds were already greying. “Aye, it does.”
“Can you really put me back together?” Sparrow’s pale face faded as the grey mist turned to charcoal.
“No. But you can.”
Within moments, they were descending into blackness. The bird dropped them outside the door of a small cabin. Cracks of light spilled through gaps in the shutters.
This time Sparrow dragged Achan by the hand. She led him through the thick door, past where Gren and Noam sat at a table, and into a small room. Achan craned his neck to see Gren through the open doorway, but Sparrow’s voice pulled him away.
“See? Here lies my body. Tell me how to claim it.”
Achan turned to the bed. Sparrow’s body lay under a thin brown blanket. Though she looked no different from the spirit form beside him, something in his gut quickened at the sight of her pale skin and thick eyelashes. He knelt at the bedside and let his hand fall through her real one.
“None of that, Master Cham. We have no chaperone.”
He grinned, liking the conflicted look on her face. “Come here and listen. Once you return to your body, you will not see me, for I will still be in the Veil.”
“Will I remember you if I see you again?”
“When you see me again. There will be no if about it. I’m guessing that your memory will return in full when you reenter your body. I will pray for it every day until I hear you say it is true.”
“Such passion you have for my memories.”
“Aye, for they include me.” He blew out a short breath. “Listen. Gren and Noam can be trusted. Harnu, I’m not so sure. My army is not far from here. Should you wish it, I’ll send men for you and Gren.”
“And what will two women do in a war?”
He laughed. “I know not. The moment you remember, please tell me what you had in mind by setting out for Armonguard with—as you like to put it—no chaperone.”
Sparrow coughed out an indignant gasp. “Surely we were not alone. There must be another explanation.”
“You are an odd duck, Sparrow. I’ve never met anyone quite like you. You never act the way I expect.”
“Just how would you expect me to act, Master Cham? I am separated from my body and I—”
“Enough.” Achan grabbed her Veil hand and tugged her close. “Listen to me. Simply concentrate. Focus on looking out of your own eyes. That should put you back where you belong.”
She glanced at her limp body, her brow furrowed. “That is all I must do? But how do I—”
And she vanished. Sparrow’s hand, which had been limp, moved. Achan turned back to the bed to find her already propped up on one elbow. She stared through him, her free hand groping for his. “Are you still there?” she whispered.
You can’t feel me when I’m in the Veil. But now I’ll leave you. Until we meet again, my beloved flower.
Achan went back to his own body and opened his eyes.
He lay prostrate on the floor of his tent. He rolled to his side. “Sparrow is in a cabin in the Sideros Forest.”
Sir Eagan crouched to help him stand. “You found her?”
“Her soul and body are reunited, Sir Eagan.” Achan couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.
Sir Eagan beamed. “Well done, lad! I shall inform Nitsa at once.”
Achan faced Sir Caleb. “Help me change for the war council, Sir Caleb. We must discuss Esek and his threats.”
“We are not terribly outnumbered,” Sir Caleb said, “though all my tallies are speculation. Who can make a fair estimate in Darkness?”
Achan and the generals sat around a long table in the meeting tent. “Where is Esek’s army exactly?” he asked. “Allowntown? Mahanaim? Somewhere in between?”
“My bloodvoice scouts sense the largest number outside Mahanaim,” Sir Gavin said. “There is also a vast army between Xulon and Armonguard.”
Achan’s thoughts drifted to his uncle. “Has Prince Oren been warned?”
Sir Gavin nodded. “He has.”
“How will we be getting our army to Armonguard, then?” Inko asked. “Will we be riding on the boats?”
“Captain Chantry’s ships have not yet reached the isle of Nesos,” Sir Eagan said.
“And we cannot afford to tarry,” Sir Gavin said. “We’ll travel east of the king’s road, stay in Light as long as possible. We can move faster that way and avoid the bulk of Esek’s army. Perhaps we may even pass over the eastern Reshon Gate before they realize what we’ve done.”
“Won’t we be seen?” Achan asked. “Does not Esek also have bloodvoice scouts?”
“He likely does,” Sir Gavin said. “But at least this way they won’t sneak up on us in the dark.”
“I am thinking it is being safer to be waiting for the boats,” Inko said.
For once Achan agreed with Inko, but for a different reason. “Why don’t we just fight and be done with it?”
“Because Armonguard is the prize, not Mahanaim,” Sir Eagan said. “If we engage Esek now, we could lose too many men to stand up against Esek’s southern army. But if we can slip past at the eastern Reshon Gate while he awaits us in Mahanaim…”
“We stand a chance of beating his northern army to Armonguard,” Sir Gavin said. “Even things up a bit. Do you approve, Your Highness?”
“I do.�
�� As if there were any other options. “We draw aim toward the eastern Reshon Gate. If there’s nothing else…?” No one spoke, so Achan said, “Meeting adjourned.”
Sir Caleb waved Achan to follow him. “Sir Shung is a worthy Shield, but he is not as useful if he never eats or sleeps. I’m sure you’ve noticed how tired he’s been of late?”
Shung always wanted to sleep, but Achan hadn’t considered the reason might be because of his position as Shield.
Sir Caleb held open the tent flap for Achan to exit. He ducked outside and found two guardsmen waiting.
Sir Caleb stopped before the men. With your permission, Your Highness, Sir Gavin has assigned these men. They’ll work in pairs with Sir Shung and Kurtz, alternating schedules so you’ll have two Shields at all times.
Achan considered the soldiers. Both were in their early twenties. One was tall and thin with blond hair slicked back into a tail. The other had light brown skin, shaggy dark hair, and a flat nose. If Sir Gavin trusts them, then of course I give permission. Thank you.
Sir Caleb set a hand on the blond man’s shoulder. “This is Cortland Agros, my nephew. He escaped Allowntown’s siege because he was in Mitspah on an errand.”
Cortland bowed his head. “An honor, Your Highness.”
Achan took in the resemblance between Sir Caleb and his nephew, smiling at how Cortland had tamed his hair.
Sir Caleb motioned to the brown-skinned man. “And Manu Pitney came to us from Nesos. He is, in fact, your cousin, as your mother and his father were siblings.”
“Your father is Lord Pitney?” Achan asked.
“No, Your Highness.” Manu’s voice was a lower pitch even than Shung’s. “Lord Pitney is my uncle. My father was the youngest of the family.”
“Pleased to know you,” Achan said. “I should like to meet all your family someday.”
Manu bowed. “That would be an honor, Your Highness.”
Clearly Manu had been taught every shred of decorum Achan lacked. Perhaps in time his cousin would become more friendly, like Shung.
The idea of friends made Achan think of Sparrow. He hoped that time would loosen Sparrow’s knots as well. That she would not only remember, but that things might go back to the way they were before.
From Darkness Won Page 23