In Deception's Shadow Box Set: Book 1-3

by Lisa Blackwood

  Shadowdancer sank his teeth into Sorsha’s shoulder. The small pain focused her mind and she realized the stallion was trying to communicate. If he couldn’t touch her thoughts, the cold-sapping numbness had spread to him too. The stallion rolled his eyes at her, the whites flashing with fear. She shook her head at his silent message to run. She wouldn’t leave him to face Trensler alone.

  “Oh, no need to rush off. I was just starting to discover something interesting. I was hoping for more time to get to know each other—so when I meet your sister and the Crown Prince of the Phoenix early tomorrow morning, I’ll be able to introduce myself properly.”

  “I’m sorry, Lord-Master, but I really must be getting back. Perhaps we can talk tomorrow?”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist we talk now.”

  Hooves rustled in the dry leaves of the surrounding forest as five horses broke cover. Their acolyte riders guided them in a flanking maneuver.

  Sorsha leapt onto Shadowdancer’s back. The stallion gathered himself and spun away from the new threat before they were surrounded. Dried leaves and rich loam scattered under his hooves as he thundered away from their enemies. Underbrush snatched at Sorsha’s legs and she was grateful for her sister’s stolen leathers.

  While Shadowdancer didn’t slow his pace, he must have found a game trail or other narrow track, for he no longer weaved through the forest so violently.

  Unable to see through the deepening dark of the night-shrouded forest, Sorsha had to trust in Shadowdancer’s superior night-vision. Ahead, an unknown darkness waited; behind, a known danger—and trapped between the two, Sorsha had never felt so helpless, or useless. If they survived this night, it would be entirely Shadowdancer’s skill which saved them.

  At first she thought her eyes played tricks with her; but no, her eyes began to adjust and the darker shapes of trees loomed up out of the shadows. Overhead, the canopy of interlaced branches was silhouetted against the star-speckled sky. No longer totally blind, she relaxed and gathered her thoughts. She reached once again for her companion’s mind. Sorsha came up against... nothing, only a blank void. Her panic surged anew. What had Trensler done to Shadowdancer? Or was it her gift that was gone?

  With each passing moment that she couldn’t summon magic, her panic increased. She bowed her head and squeezed her eyes shut. Then the faint hint of Shadowdancer’s magic, like fog on an early summer morning, seeped into her, chasing away Trensler’s chill.

  As Shadowdancer put distance between them and their pursuers, Sorsha regained more strength. She still couldn’t speak mind-to-mind, so she settled for speaking out-loud. “I’ve never trusted Trensler, but I didn’t know he could do this to us. Are… are you all right?” She had to shout over the wind rushing in her ears.

  Shadowdancer continued his headlong flight through the dark forest.

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  He rolled an eye in her direction. While she couldn’t be sure of his meaning, the nervous sweat foaming his coat spoke volumes on its own. He continued to gallop away from River’s Divide, weaving his way through the undergrowth. Ahead a familiar, ghostly pale trunk, devoid of bark, took shape out of the night. The long-dead tree stood to the right side of the path, still guarding the entrance to a small, oblong meadow. Sorsha’s sense of disorientation faded. They were heading toward the river.

  “Why are you running toward the river? We need to get away, not be hemmed in on another side.”

  Shadowdancer galloped onward like he hadn’t understood. Still hunched over his neck, she chanced a glance behind. A group of six horses gave chase. They were some distance behind, but still posed a threat. No normal horse could match a santhyrian’s speed. But these horses were.

  “How are they keeping up?” She didn’t expect an answer, and was mildly surprised when Shadowdancer’s thoughts touched hers. Still faint and almost whispery, but there.

  “Unnatural magic.”

  “I can hear you. Thank the gods.”

  “I’m growing stronger now that I’ve put some distance between us and them.”

  “Good. Why are we heading toward the river?”

  “We’re going to cross it and double back to River’s Divide. We need to warn Prince Sorntar and the others.”

  “There’s no safe place to ford. The river is too narrow and fast here. It’ll be suicide if you try to cross it now.”

  “We have no choice. We’re being herded.”

  “Kind of noticed we’re being chased.”

  “Not chased. Herded.”

  “Not much of a difference, as I see it.”

  “If they had wanted to capture us back there, the horsemen would have surrounded us and then revealed themselves. They didn’t. They all came at us from the same direction, forcing us away from River’s Divide. Whatever their plans, they want us far from help. Unless I’m mistaken, they’re herding us into an ambush.”

  “I hope you’re wrong.”

  “I hope I’m wrong as well, but I doubt we’ll be so lucky.”

  They continued in silence for a few moments. They were finally running alongside the river again when a new sense of dread tightened Sorsha’s stomach.

  “You sense them ahead as well, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she hissed. “I was really hoping you were wrong.”

  “Me too. We need to get back to River’s Divide. The fast-moving water will carry us back toward the settlement as I make the crossing. I don’t care what power the acolytes are feeding those horses, there’s no way a horse can make this crossing.”

  “How are we going to make this crossing?”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “I do but…”

  “Hold on then.” Shadowdancer gathered his powerful hindquarters and leapt out over the water.

  “Never wanted to live forever anyway.”

  His jump carried him out impossibly far. Dark water rushed up all around her, its cold embrace a shocking slap. Bareback, without anything to hold onto, she didn’t have a hope of keeping her seat and the wild waters tore her from his back.

  “Sorsha!”

  The current carried her farther from the stallion. She bobbed up and down, dragged lower by the swift waters and the weight of her saturated cloak. Large mats of floating vegetation, tree branches, and other debris jostled her. Clawing at her cloak’s clasp, she managed to unhook the chain. The cloak tangled with her legs, causing a moment’s dread, and then the river tore it away. The water carried her toward a tree with overhanging branches. She made a grab, her fingers locked onto a fistful of leaves, but the twigs broke and she continued past.

  The water closed over her head and she renewed her fight. Surfacing, she coughed up water. The river roared all around her. She didn’t know which way to swim, and concentrated on keeping her head above the water. The current slammed her against a boulder, knocking the breath from her lungs. She was going to die. Never had she dreamed this was how it would happen. Better the water than Trensler, a small part of her mind noted with defiance.

  A pressure crushed her shoulder and she was suddenly breaking the surface again.

  “I’ve got you,” Shadowdancer said. His teeth were biting into her shoulder, keeping her above the water, barely. “Can you climb on my back?”

  “Not sure.” She reached around until she could grab his neck and mane. Shadowdancer might have her, but who had him? He wasn’t having much more luck than her. The water pushed him along. His powerful legs continued churning the water, and slowly, oh so slowly, the opposite bank grew nearer.

  “Hold on!”

  Shadowdancer’s warning came too late. A large, pale shape loomed up behind them. Another heartbeat and the dark bulk of an uprooted tree rolled over top of them. The force of the blow tore her away from Shadowdancer once more. She had a moment to see the stallion go under, the tree rolling him, his hooves flailing in the air; then he was upright again.

  “Sorsha!”

  She couldn’t even voice her f
ear. The river plunged her back down to its rocky bottom. Then it curved, the terrain changing and she was pushed back to the surface by the ever-changing currents. Her head broke the frothy surface and she coughed. Seeing a large, pale shape close, she lunged, fighting the current with a last, desperate strength. She managed to hook her arm around a large tree branch as it floated alongside. Half-drowned but unwilling to admit defeat, she clung to the driftwood and let it carry her on down the river.

  “Sorsha!”

  Tossing a sodden mass of hair out of her face, she spotted a darker blur running along the bank to her right. Shadowdancer was galloping apace with the river, his mane and tail streaming behind him. His headlong flight was actually outpacing the river and he was pulling ahead.

  Perhaps he could get help before the river dragged her back to the bottom or carried her out to the ocean less than a league distant. Even if he couldn’t rescue her, she was glad he’d survived the river’s embrace. At least he could warn the others about Trensler. Ashayna and Lamarra would be safe.

  She glanced to the right bank again, but could no longer see Shadowdancer. His frantic pace must have carried him beyond her sight. The river turned sharply ahead as it snaked its way to the sea. Fearing she’d get scraped off her driftwood raft in the turn, she doggedly pulled herself more firmly atop it.

  From her new perch, she had a better view than she’d had while bobbing up and down at water level, but the new vantage point wasn’t any more reassuring. Closer to River’s Divide, the river was narrower, faster, and flowed over a series of small waterfalls. Even here the river had cut deep, exposing the bones of the earth. The banks were nothing more than smooth, wet, rocky bluffs, impossible to climb even if she’d had the strength.

  A flash of movement ahead caught her attention. A wind-gnarled pine clung to the rocky terrain and one of its twisted branches reached midway across the river. The tree shook and quivered in a way completely unlike its neighbors. It wasn’t until she was almost under the tree that she saw the pale shape of a man straddling the branch. He leaned out far and half-dangled toward the water, one arm stretching in her direction.

  For one moment of absolute disbelief, she stared at her unexpected rescuer. The shock almost cost her the chance to escape the river alive, but the desperation in the stranger’s dark eyes prompted her to lunge for his outstretched arm as her driftwood raft swept underneath his perch.

  His skin was hot compared to the chill of the river and she held tight to his hand. With a grunt and a great show of strength, he dragged her from the water’s swift current and up onto the branch with him.

  Only after she was hugging the branch in a death grip did she look up and recognize her rescuer.

  “You.” The naked sailor who had invaded her bedroom two nights ago stared back at her. “You. How…” And then emotions of fear and relief rose up within her and the giddy tears of a survivor slid down her face, hot against her cold skin. “I should be dead. I’m not. Thank you.”

  Her savior didn’t speak. He merely smiled as he continued to pant. Then he lay flat along the branch and rested his forehead against the bark. He looked as exhausted as her, like he’d run up hill for a few leagues in a gale force storm. Now he looked too exhausted to be much of a threat. Perhaps that was why she didn’t fear him. Either that or she was too tired to summon up survival instincts.

  Sleeping looked like a good idea. Her body ached with cold and fatigue. However, their present location wasn’t particularly comfortable or safe. “Come on, we should get to solid ground.” Hesitantly, she touched his bare shoulder and realized he was just as naked as he’d been the first time she’d seem him. Doubts crept in even through the thick fog of exhaustion. There was something very strange going on. Her subconscious pricked at her. She was missing something. Well fine, she’d question him later.

  “Let’s go before the tree gets sick of holding us up and dumps us back into the river. I doubt we’d be so lucky as to have someone farther down river rescue us.”

  He responded with a deep huffing sound, half-chuckle, half-snort. It was strangely familiar. The memory proved elusive, dancing out of range every time she’d almost grasped it. Later… later she’d piece together this mystery, once they were warm and safe.

  Sorsha started to make her way toward the trunk of the tree. The going was slow, numerous branches got in her way. They plucked at her garments and snagged her still-dripping hair as she navigated the old tree.

  Naked, the stranger couldn’t have had a good time making his way onto the overhanging limb. Night’s darkness made it hard to see if he was hurt, but there was enough light from the moons to make out darker patches on his pale hind.

  “Can you move?” She gentled her tone. He had saved her life and she was beginning to think he might be mind-touched. Once, as a child, she’d seen a gentle giant who had been mind-damaged at birth. If this stranger was similarly inflicted, it would explain why he couldn’t talk. It didn’t excuse him sneaking into her bedroom in the middle of the night, but she would try to refrain from going after him with a knife or her bow. Maybe... If he behaved himself.

  She held out her hand in an offer of friendship. When he finally raised his head, he tossed his dark hair over his shoulder. There was something familiar in that toss, the way he arched his head to the side, the elegant curve of muscle in a well-toned body. Superior. Arrogant. Prideful. Virile.

  Sharp indulgence glimmered in his dark eyes. No, this one wasn’t mind-touched. He was something else altogether.

  It was impossible.

  It couldn’t be.

  And yet he was here and Shadowdancer wasn’t. He had saved her. Shadowdancer had been trying to save her. The stallion had vanished and this male was suddenly in her path. A human wouldn’t have even known she was in the river, wouldn’t have seen her until mere moments before the swift current floated her by. There wouldn’t have been time for him to get into position. All the little details pointed to the same impossible outcome.

  “Shadowdancer?”

  He sighed out his exhaustion again, but nodded his head.

  “By the Light, how?”

  He sat up and touched his lips, then shook his head.

  “You can’t speak.”

  Another headshake.

  “Are you hurt?”

  Accompanied by a third shake of his head, he gave her a weak smile, and then sighing deeply, he started to crawl toward her.

  “Well, you don’t need to talk to climb. Let’s get off this tree.” She’d been shivering with cold and reaction since he’d first pulled her out of the water; now she couldn’t feel her fingers or toes. The night wasn’t getting any warmer. If they wanted to live, they needed to find shelter and start a fire. She told him her plan as she navigated the tree. “This part of the river is familiar, and I think I know where we are. There’s a hidden stash of supplies in a cave nearby. We can start a fire and get warm at the very least.”

  Her fingers touched the rock embankment, and she sighed in relief. With solid ground under her feet, she felt like she might actually live through this night. Shadowdancer stepped up behind her, close enough she could feel the heat from his body. He tapped her left shoulder and pointed up at what must have been the path he’d taken to get down to the tree.

  The path wasn’t exactly an elegant stairway, but it was climbable. She struggled up the incline and knelt at the top of the escarpment to wait for Shadowdancer to make the climb. He took the hand she offered and he heaved himself up and over the ledge to rest next to her for a moment. His shoulders shook as he shivered.

  If she had some dry clothes, or even her cloak, she would have given them to him. But she had nothing to offer except thoroughly wet leathers. She eyed his broad-shouldered frame with the realization he wouldn’t fit into anything of hers anyways.

  “Come here.” She took his arm and placed it over her shoulders and helped him to his feet. Her free arm naturally found its way around his waist. If it had been anyone other th
an Shadowdancer, it would have been awkward, but he was her friend. “The cave isn’t far. I have an old chest there with a few emergency supplies and nice, warm blankets.”

  His eyebrow arched up in silent question.

  “You didn’t think Lamarra and I were just going to sit back and meekly accept never seeing Ashayna again, did you? Had she and Crown Prince Sorntar not come for an unexpected visit, we would have gone ahead with our plan to go looking for Ash ourselves. No one steals a member of the Stonemantle family and gets away with it.”

  Shadowdancer snorted with humor.

  “Yes, looking back, our plan wasn’t very… detailed.”

  Sorsha continued to ramble, talking of meaningless things to occupy her mind and distract Shadowdancer from his exhaustion as they climbed the sloping escarpment. As she promised, her secret lair wasn’t far, but it still took them half a candlemark to make the journey.

  By the time the cave entrance came into view, her body was numb with cold. She could only imagine how much worse off the santhyrian must be. She paused briefly before the cave’s dark maw, wondering if something else big and predatory had decided to make her lair its home. She hoped not, and was honestly too tired to care.

  The cave proved both empty and blessedly dry. She made straight for the back of the small cave where a chest sat half-hidden behind a ridge of rock. After tossing the lid back, she rooted around inside until she found two blankets. She handed the blankets to Shadowdancer and he immediately wrapped himself in one.

  After quickly loosening the ties with shaking fingers, Sorsha pulled her wet leather outer vest over her head. The sodden material landed with a damp thump. She peeled the clammy leather of her breeches down her legs and kicked the mess into a corner. The damp cotton of her underclothes would dry fast enough, but her stout shirt stuck to her like a cold, wet lump. The shirt joined her leathers on the floor. She’d arrange them closer to the fire pit to dry once they got a camp fire burning. Naked from the waist up, she hugged herself to preserve what heat she still had. Which, by the chattering of her teeth, wasn’t much.