by Kara Jaynes
I flinched, covering my ears instinctively as something large and gray hurtled from the woods, jaws snapping as it lunged for Silvan.
A wolf, and a huge one. I’d never seen one in person before, but I’d read enough books to know it on sight, even in the flickering light of the fire.
Scrambling to my feet, I watched helplessly as Silvan and the wolf went down in a tangle of limbs and fur.
I flung myself toward the fire as more wolves leaped from the darkness, eyes glowing in the firelight.
Fire.
I snatched a branch from the pit, its end still red-hot with embers, and thrust it in the face of the nearest wolf. It leaped away from me, yipping in pain.
Another wolf leaped at me, snarling.
Silvan barreled into it with a hoarse scream, his fingers glowing with a pale silver light as he grappled with it. The wolf disintegrated in a plume of ash. Its howl faded into nothing.
The remaining wolves slipped back into the trees, their coats blending with the night. Silvan and I were alone again. As alone as one could be, in a forest.
Silvan was shaking, and by the dim glow of embers I could see the wild light in his eyes. A low, feral growl rumbled in his throat.
“Silvan? I whispered. I cringed when he flinched from my voice, still half crouched, his blue eyes wide. His hands were streaked with blood and soot, and silver light pulsed from his fingertips. Magic.
This new Silvan was scary. I'd never seen him like this, not even as a dragon. I glanced around the site and saw two more piles of bloodied ash. I swallowed, trying to will away my fear. This was my silver-haired boy. I had nothing to be afraid of.
I approached him, tentatively reaching out to touch his shoulder. “Are you all right?”
He exhaled heavily, his already pale face almost sheet-white. “I thought they were going to kill you.” His voice sounded harsh, and he looked away as he mumbled something incoherent under his breath.
“Thank you for protecting me,” I said.
The silver light went out and his fingers reached, grasping mine. “I'll always protect you,” he murmured. Reluctantly releasing my hand, he stepped away, into the inky black. “Try and get some rest. I am going to do a quick scout of the area. I think we scared off the wolves, but I don't want any more surprises.”
I watched him go, then curled up by the dying fire. I didn't worry for him anymore. I was beginning to wonder if Silvan could be killed. My silver-haired boy. My dragon. My friend.
When he returned sometime later, he silently lay down next to me, and I couldn't help but notice he was careful not to touch me.
“I'm cold.” Half true.
He shifted slightly, wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him, my back pressing against his chest.
Warmth radiated from him, and I closed my eyes as sleep washed over me.
21
Silvan
I didn’t sleep. My eyes were tired, but my body hummed with adrenaline. Probably because of the fight I had with wolves.
Nothing to do with the girl lying next to me.
She'd drifted into slumber, her breathing heavy and deep. How could she sleep so peacefully after the wolves had attacked us? I frowned up at the canopy of trees. Wolves were bold creatures, but animals typically stayed away from humans, me in particular. Why had they attacked? I glanced over at one of the heaps of ash, my stomach clenching at the sight. I hunted to eat, but I didn't enjoy killing animals. Something had been wrong with them. But whatever the reason, it didn't seem likely that the remaining wolves would attack now. Listening to the woods around me, I didn't sense anything else that posed a threat . . .
Wait. I felt something out there, but it was too far away, just on the edge of my senses. But the moment I noticed it, the feeling left, like smoke on a breeze.
Glacia shifted, murmuring something in her sleep. I gazed down at her face. She looked sad. The grief she always tried to hide showed in her slumber. Why was she sad? Did she miss her parents? Her Nanny? Or was it something else? The pain of never fitting in, the fact that she’d never fit in anywhere? Maybe death would have been an act of mercy.
I snorted. A stupid thought.
Master.
Biting my lip, I tried unsuccessfully to hold back the tears. I betrayed him. I betrayed Daiki. My brothers. My family. They were dead, because of me.
Could I redeem myself? Did it make me a murderer, that I’d abandoned them? But what about Glacia? She was everything to me, but was she more important than an entire culture? I didn’t have the answer, and the repercussions of my choice were beginning to weigh on me. If I had used my dragon power to repel the demons, how many lives would have been saved? Or would we all have died, anyway?
The sudden presence of evil would have knocked me off my feet if I hadn’t already been down. Holding my breath, I reached out, using my senses to inspect the dark presence I felt deep in the woods.
It was old. Much older than me, a dark, putrid evil that reeked of death. I silently rose to my feet. The hair prickled on the back of my neck as silence fell across the woods.
The evil approached. It drew closer to me. To Glacia.
Throwing my arm wide, I radiated the full extent of my power, slamming it into the presence. I didn’t hold back, giving whatever was out there a clear warning.
The evil flinched and withdrew, fading away from my magic. I smiled grimly. As a mere boy of almost-seventeen, I was more powerful than anyone or anything I knew. What did the future hold for me? I could only grow more powerful with age.
I settled down next to Glacia again. She lay motionless, her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. I frowned, studying her closely. There was . . . something off. Something wrong. I closed my eyes as I lay there, my hand gently clasping hers. I studied her with my power. What I saw nestled within her staggered me.
Glacia had magic.
My eyes flew open as shock and uncertainty shuddered through my frame. How could this be? Women had power, too?
No. That couldn't be right. I closed my eyes again.
She did, and didn't. It was different from mine. It wasn't a dragonblessed power, and it wasn't shifting ability, either. It was something else.
But it was real, primal, and powerful.
Asleep.
Glacia was unaware of this magic. I didn't think it had ever woken. It nestled deep within her soul, waiting for the moment of its awakening.
If it awoke. Sometimes magic didn't, lurking in obscurity for an entire lifetime. That was what I had read, anyway, in the books that lined the library walls of the Elite.
I hadn't known I could sense other people's abilities, and I gazed at Glacia, wonder mixed with awe at the sheer scope of this girl’s strength. I bit my lip. Maybe she was worth an entire culture. I had to believe that, or the guilt would tear me to pieces.
A high-pitched scream pierced the air. I jumped to my feet, my body taut with nerves, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
The natural sounds of the forest grew quiet, listening, as the echoes of the cry faded away. Standing completely still, I hardly dared to breathe, ears straining to pick up where the voice had sounded.
There. The cry sounded again. A woman. She wasn’t close, but even from this distance I could hear the raw terror in her voice.
I was running toward the sound, several yards away from Glacia before I remembered her. Racing back, I yanked her to her feet, and pulled her along.
Glacia whimpered. “What’s the matter?” she asked, voice thick with sleep and fear. “Did the demons find us?”
“Someone needs help,” I said simply, running through the forest night. I knew Glacia wouldn’t be able to see anything, so I held her hand tightly as I sprinted through the blackness.
Glacia was silent after that and did her best to keep up, and I felt a surge of affection for her.
I wouldn’t have brought her with me, if I hadn’t been more afraid of leaving her behind.
22
Glac
ia
I stumbled after him as best I could, my eyes narrowed as I peered about. I had to trust in Silvan’s strength and senses. I could barely see the ground, or anything for that matter. It was still night, and so dark that trees, bushes, ground, and even the sky blended together in various shades of darkness.
Silvan raced through the narrow maze of trees and bracken, his feet hardly making a sound as he skimmed over the earth. I couldn’t say the same for myself. My feet seemed to hit every twig and dried leaf, making a terrific crashing noise.
I didn’t know what was going on, and I didn’t worry now that Silvan confirmed that the demons weren’t on our tails. After the wolf encounter, I trusted him to keep me safe.
I saw the light before I heard anything. A red, flickering thing that appeared through the woods. Will-o’-the-wisp? A lamp? No. As we approached, I could see it was too large to be a lamp. Taking another gulp of air, I could smell ash and smoke. Definitely a fire.
I heard the crying next, a deep, choking sob. Silvan’s fingers clenched mine painfully. “We’re almost there,” he muttered, and pushed us to greater speeds. I could thankfully see the ground a little better as we drew nearer to the light.
“Please, take me instead,” the voice wailed. “She’s just a child. A child!”
Silvan hauled me along, pulling me into a large clearing. I stumbled to a halt, my sides heaving. I glanced over at Silvan. He was breathing heavily, too, but he stood straight and tall, chin tilted upward a little as he regarded the scene before us.
A huge fire lit the clearing, the flames dancing between red and gold. I stared at it, remembering the molten rock that had engulfed my home. I shook my head, willing the images away. No. The gray stone halls were no longer mine. This forest was my home.
“Untie her,” Silvan commanded, and I flinched at the anger in his voice. I peered in the direction Silvan faced, and saw a cluster of people standing several feet from us. Not far from them stood the woman we’d heard earlier, wringing her hands as she choked on her sobs.
I blinked, staring at the trunk of a tree that grew inside the clearing, the woman crouched near it. A child was bound to the base, rope wrapped around her arms and torso. A man had finished securing the ties and stepped away, eyeing Silvan disdainfully. “Who are you?” he asked.
“It doesn’t matter who I am,” Silvan said. He dropped my hand. “Stay back,” he muttered. “I don’t know if it’s safe.” He stepped forward, addressing the man again. “Release the child.”
“Yes, please,” the woman chimed in. She wiped her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand. “I’ll take her place.”
“Explain yourselves,” Silvan said regally.
The man peered at him, his eyes clouded with suspicion. He was a lanky man, tall, his chin covered in dark stubble. “Step into the light, young man.”
Silvan complied, and his hair glinted silver in the firelight. The man staggered back. “Demon!” he hissed. “Freak.”
“I am not a demon or a freak,” Silvan said hotly, crossing his arms. “After all, I’m not the one tying little girls to trees.”
The crowd of people shifted, murmuring to each other.
The man frowned at them before turning back to sneer at Silvan. “You are obviously new to the area, boy, or you wouldn’t speak so foolishly.”
Boy. After what we’d faced, I knew that despite his young age, Silvan was every inch a man—never mind I still thought of him as my silver-haired boy—but the intended insult rolled off him like water off a duck. “Cure me of my ignorance, then. What are you doing?”
“Appeasing the Beast,” the man said, his voice grim. “I don’t like it any more than anyone else, but it must be done, or the Beast will destroy us.”
Silvan nodded. “Ah. So, she’s a sacrifice.”
The man nodded back in agreement. “Exactly so.” His voice was laced with resignation.
“And you’re sacrificing her instead of yourself,” Silvan said, tilting his head. “How . . . noble.”
“I don’t see you volunteering,” the man snarled, his fists clenched at his sides.
Silvan laughed, a mix of gold and steel that warmed my heart. “Actually, I will.” He waved a pale hand at me. “Glacia. Release the girl.” He kept his gaze locked on the angry man.
I obeyed, walking over to the bound child. She shivered uncontrollably and stared up at me with large eyes, luminous in the flickering light. I patted her on the head. “It’s going to be all right,” I said, smiling encouragingly.
She didn’t respond, trembling as I worked to loosen the knots.
“This . . . Beast,” Silvan said, still speaking to the man. “Does it come by often?”
“Every new moon,” the man replied. He still sounded gruff, but his voice didn’t carry the thread of animosity it had earlier. “You say you’re going to help, then?”
“Yes,” Silvan replied. I looked over my shoulder to see he was watching me, now. I hurriedly turned back to my task, my face warming. “It’s the new moon cycle now, so I assume the monster I warned away earlier was the creature in question.”
The ropes fell away in my hand, the ties undone. “Go to your mother,” I whispered, and the child bolted, throwing herself at the woman.
The woman dropped to her knees and hugged the small girl back, crying anew. “Thank you, sir,” she said to Silvan. “Heaven bless your good heart.”
Silvan inhaled sharply, his face visibly paling, but made no reply to the woman. “I’ll stay here in the area until the monster returns,” he said to the man, “and resolve this matter.”
“We feel so much safer,” the man said drily, ignoring the annoyed look Silvan directed at him. “I’m sure where full-grown men have failed, an upstart boy is sure to succeed.”
“Let him alone, Jett,” someone from the crowd said. “He’s right. We need to quit cowering in fear and figure out a plan to save ourselves.”
“We can’t fight back,” a thin, reedy voice piped up. “It will destroy us all.”
“But if we don’t,” said another man from the back of press of people, “it will eat us just the same.”
Murmurs of agreement and protest mingled.
Jett, the man who had first spoken with Silvan, glared at the crowd. “If you all want to die an early death by putting your trust with a stranger, fine by me.” He shot an irritated look at Silvan before stalking away.
I watched him go, startled to see the clearing stretched farther than I could see, the fire just bright enough for me to make out the shapes of some houses in the gloom. A village. The first village I’d ever visited.
“You may stay with us in our home, if you wish,” the mother said, still clutching her child. She smiled warmly at me, but I could see the uncertainty flickering in her eyes when her gaze darted toward Silvan. She was still afraid. “My name is Elysa.”
The crowd began to disperse, many looking over their shoulders at Silvan. Their expressions ranged from curiosity to distrust and fear.
“Thank you, good woman.” Silvan bowed to the woman with a flourish. “Your kindness is appreciated.”
We followed her and her daughter down a well-worn dirt path in the center of the clearing, leading away from the fire.
Their house looked the same as the others, a drab cottage made of wood and stone with a thatched roof.
Less than an hour later, Silvan and I were settled by Elysa’s hearth. Elysa and her daughter had already retired in the adjacent room.
Silvan stretched out with a tired sigh, lacing his fingers behind his head. He glanced over at me. I lay on my side close to him, our noses almost touching.
“When did you see the monster they were talking about?” I asked.
“When you were sleeping,” he replied. “I didn’t really see it, though. I sensed it. Its power. With magic, if you will.”
I looked away, hoping he didn’t see the bitterness in my face. “That must be amazing, having such magical abilities.”
Sil
van was quiet for a moment, motionless. “Glacia,” he said quietly, almost hesitantly. “Did your parents, or your tutor . . . ever say something strange or unusual to you, before?”
My brow furrowed as I thought about it. “No. I don't think so. Why?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “I was just curious. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” I turned away, shame flittering through me. I shook my head, unsure why I felt it. Why would I feel shame? A memory flickered through my head, but when I tried to examine it, it was gone.
Shame was quickly replaced with bone-weary exhaustion. I closed my eyes, and went to sleep.
23
Glacia
I awoke to a warm, earthy scent tinged with a hint of sweetness. I smiled, eyes still closed, and snuggled into the thin blanket, reveling in the lazy heat of the summer morning.
“Wake up.” Silvan’s voice broke the stillness, his boot gently nudging my side. “It’s late morning.”
I sat up and stifled a yawn. “Is everything okay?”
Silvan’s blue eyes were serious. “Aside from the fact that is village is at risk of starvation, and that they’re getting picked off by a monster? Everything is fine.”
I grimaced, running a hand through my tangled hair. “When you put it that way, it sounds pretty awful.”
“Deplorable, really.” Silvan stood, and extended a hand and I took it. He pulled me up to my feet. “We need to do something.”
“You need to do something,” I clarified. “I’m just a girl.”
Silvan’s expression turned strange, his eyes narrowed. “You’re stronger than you think you are,” he said, his voice full of hidden meaning.
“What do you mean?” I asked, but he merely shrugged, suddenly looking uncomfortable.
Elysa was tending the hearth. She pulled a pot off the fire. “Breakfast is ready.” Her daughter stood by her side, staring at us solemnly with huge brown eyes.
“Thank you, good woman,” Silvan said with a bow, making the older woman smile.
Breakfast was porridge, with golden threads of honey stirred in, and a pinch of spicy cinnamon. The woman put a mug of something hot in front of me. I frowned, sniffing it tentatively. It seemed strange to drink something hot in the summer. The Chosen opted for cooler drinks in the warmer months, our tables laden with fresh fruit and vegetables.