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

by Lisa Blackwood

  “I’d say we’re getting closer.” Sorsha’s voice drifted to him. He resisted the temptation to turn and look. Apparently, Sorsha had no qualms about showing her nerves. She grabbed the bicep of his left arm and slid her hand down until she came in contact with his hand. After twining their fingers together and giving a squeeze, she relaxed marginally and sighed in relief.

  The curving stairway flared out at the bottom, opening into a vast underground chamber. A lake, its glass-like surface undisturbed by wind or wild things, stretched across half the length of the cavern. Ringing the underground lake, twelve crystal pillars reached up into the darkness above the still waters. At that moment, he realized the water gave off a pale glow, lighting the chamber enough to see without needing mage globe or torch.

  “It’s a bonding chamber. I’ve seen this one’s twin deep below Grey Spires.”

  Sorsha raised an eyebrow at him.

  “When two Larnkins are strong enough to forge the spirit bond that was broken when they took hosts and were born into this realm, they need a place to safely contain the power released during the bonding ceremony.”

  “How does that help us? Our Larnkins barely have enough power to summon a mage globe. An abundance of power isn’t something we have to worry about.”

  “No, but as the Oracle said, it will use the water and, I imagine, the chamber’s Wardstones to funnel its power into us.”

  “I don’t care if the Oracle serves the Light, or that what it does is for our own good, this place is still creepy. It feels like the Oracle, only more so.”

  “I don’t think Fate cares if we like what it has planned for us.” Shadowdancer took a step forward. Sorsha followed close at his heels. As he neared the pool with its still, magic-laced waters, power tingled along his skin, seeped into his lungs, and threatened to steal his breath. His heart thundered in response to his nervousness.

  Sorsha’s fingers squeezed his almost convulsively. He slid the palm of his other hand over top, trapping her hand between both of his, promising his protection in whatever way he could. “I’ll go first.”

  Sorsha tugged on his arm. “Why do you get to risk your life first? We’ll both go at the same time.”

  Chewing thoughtfully on the corner of his lip, he frowned at the water. Sorsha had a point. She deserved equal respect. They should do this together as she suggested. But his santhyrian instincts reared up within his soul. Sorsha was his Herd Mistress, his mate, she deserved his protection. If there was a chance of danger, then Sorsha needed protecting at all costs.

  Since he was already crippled, his loss wouldn’t have much negative impact on his family herd. But a Herd Mistress was something his every instinct cried out to protect.

  “You’re correct.” He pulled Sorsha into his arms. “We should do this together.”

  Sorsha returned his gaze. Hers assessing, even a bit doubtful. He couldn’t blame her. Lying wasn’t one of his best skills. “There are a few things we need. Do you see that alcove midway down the side wall?” He pointed to the one wall where darker shadows hinted at a recessed area. If this was a bonding chamber similar to the one at Grey Spires, it would likely have similar supplies—the herbs and pastes required to paint the symbols of bonding on their bodies. Since they weren’t actually bonding, they wouldn’t need the supplies, but Sorsha wouldn’t know that.

  “Yes,” Sorsha replied, her voice sounding less doubtful now. “I see where you mean.”

  “There will be packages of dried herbs, a mortar to grind them, and a jar of oil to make them into a paste. Can you bring me those items while I collect some of the water?”

  Sorsha nodded.

  Shadowdancer stripped out of his clothes while she made her way across the cavern. He was already backing into the water by the time she made it to the alcove. He watched until she disappeared within. When she was out of sight, he turned and hurried into deeper water. Cupping his hands, he brought it up to his lips. The water’s scent was earthy, its taste a strange, spicy tang. So this is what magic tastes like.

  He hadn’t thought about magic’s taste before, but now that he’d been starved for so long, and was finally able to quench his unnatural thirst, he found it a heady sensation.

  “I can’t find anything useful here.” Sorsha poked her head around the corner of the alcove. “Whatever used to be here turned to dust ages ago.” She swiveled her neck until she spotted him out in the water. “What are you doing? I knew you were lying!”

  An age-rotted cloth fell from her hand. The cloth ruptured upon impact and pale, powdery herbs dusted the ground at her feet. Sorsha’s worried features were the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes.

  “Stay where you are until this is finished,” he warned.

  Power swirled around the pool, tugging at his legs like a strong undertow. Even with his eyes closed, he could still see the lights dancing among the shadows on the walls. Arcs of brilliance raced down from above, striking the waters of the pool like lightning.

  He gasped and gritted his teeth against a scream. Pain erupted in his core. His Larnkin flailed within him, shrinking away from the forceful probe of the Oracle’s power. The Oracle would not be denied and after a third wave of power, it got its scream.

  * * * *

  “Shadowdancer!” Sorsha’s calls went unanswered. From the moment Shadowdancer had gone pale, his face tense, she knew something was wrong. Then he screamed. Terror for him, that he’d be overwhelmed and drown in the water, forced her forward. But terror also stopped her from setting foot into the water. She didn’t know what would happen if she entered the pool while the magic worked upon Shadowdancer. Her ignorance might get him killed.

  Pacing back and forth along the shore, she called out to him repeatedly—cursing, begging, screaming. She’d never felt so helpless in all her life. His eyes were still closed, and he held himself still. No more sound escaped him, but the way the veins stood out against his skin sickened her. Power continued to pour into the pool, streaming down from above.

  Bright motes of magic, like the downy fluff of windborne seeds, floated through the air. Some landed on her skin with a tingling burn. Mercy, what must it feel like to be in the water?

  The air turned white, lightning-bright. Sorsha screamed along with Shadowdancer. Spots blinded her. Then the air exploded around her, the shockwave blasted her sideways, and she sprawled in a senseless huddle.

  Gasping, her heart pounding in a steady beat, Sorsha attempted to right herself. She failed miserably and collapsed back to the ground. Her vision still seared by great black spots, she crawled forward by feel. One hand dipped into warm water.

  With a little scream, she jerked her hand back out of reflex and fear rather than pain. Cautiously she dipped her fingers back in—nothing happened, no pulsing magic or blistering power—it was just water again. The Oracle must have spent its power.

  Shadowdancer still lived, she heard him coughing and thrashing in the water. Sorsha gained her feet and stumbled into the water toward the sounds. In contrast to the cool air of the chamber, the water was bath-warm, becoming hotter the deeper she got. And earthy—its scent was strangely relaxing. When she was knee-deep into the pool, the void of spots crackling across her vision started to fade and she could make out a lumpy shape a couple body-lengths distant. Why did the fool not say something? Was he intentionally trying to stop her heart with fear?

  “Shadowdancer, say something.”

  He moaned. His terror and horror all rolled into that one, dreadful sound. Sorsha’s stomach dropped at his tone and she made a desperate dive in Shadowdancer’s direction. Tripping, her feet slipped out from underneath her and she plunged under the now waist-high water. Out of fear for what the magic-laced water might do, she squeezed her eyes and lips shut tight. When she came up, she was careful not to swallow any of it.

  Her slip and short swim had landed her in deeper water. The pool’s sloping bottom was treacherous and she lost her footing three more times before she managed to wade
back to where Shadowdancer was trying to keep his head above water. His bare shoulders would break the surface and then he’d flail and go under again. She couldn’t see his face, but sensed his panic.

  She reached Shadowdancer’s side and grasped his shoulders in a fierce grip. But even her strong hold didn’t prevent his upper body from sinking back under the water, dragged under by his disproportionate body weight. It didn’t make sense. Her instincts screamed something wasn’t right; it shouldn’t have been so hard to hold his head out of the water. She braced her feet, her toes finding traction in a small ridge, and with a grunt she hoisted his head clear of the water again. Her arms shook with the force of holding his upper body above water. As Shadowdancer halted his struggles, the waters surrounding them calmed, and she saw the shadow of something darker under the water. At first she’d thought he just couldn’t get his feet under him; the pool’s bottom was sloped and slippery underfoot.

  Sorsha gasped in shock as she finally understood what her eyes were showing her. Shadowdancer made a pained sound deep in his throat and renewed his thrashing, trying to get all four legs under him.

  Above the waterline he was human, below he was santhyrian.

  And he was slumped on his side in a twisted, awkward manner—cast up, she realized—his forelegs trapped underneath him and his hind ones pointing higher up the incline. Situated that way, he couldn’t roll or get his feet under him, at least not on such a slippery surface.

  “Stop! Or you’ll drown us both.”

  He didn’t listen. If she’d had a free hand, she’d have given him a good swat, but both hands were busy keeping him from drowning. So she sank her teeth into his shoulder instead. “Stop panicking. You’ll drown us both!”

  That seemed to penetrate the chaos of his mind, and he stopped the useless fighting.

  “Easy. Are you in pain?” she asked as she rubbed her cheek against his. “It will be all right.”

  “No. It won’t be all right. I-I’m...”

  “Shush,” she whispered in his ears, gently placing kisses on his jaw. “Are you in pain?”

  “No.” The despair in his clipped tone caused an ache in Sorsha’s chest. He might not be in physical pain, but he was in shock and certainly in emotional anguish.

  “We’re going to be okay. First, we need to get out of this pool—we’ll worry about other things once we’re safe.”

  “I’m a monster.”

  “Stop it. Or you’ll be dead and so will the woman who loves you.”

  “I’m sorry… for this mess. If I hadn’t been in such a hurry…”

  “It would just have happened later. Come on.”

  “Let me go. Get away well you can. I’m shifting down the slope. You can’t hold my weight back. You’ll get trapped under me. Go. Please.”

  She ignored him and instead tightened her arms around his chest. Without the aid of the water helping to buoy him up, she’d never have been able to support his weight all on her own. But the water gave her an idea.

  “If you’re not in pain, can you move your legs and feel any ridges you might be able to use for traction? Something you can brace against? I found a crack, but I’m not sure how much longer I can hold your torso up. The floor’s damn slippery.”

  “If I try, my bulk will shift, trapping you. I can’t risk it with you so close.” He turned his head toward her. She couldn’t see his expression, but she’d bet a gold coin he was still terrified. Or maybe horrified.

  “I’m not leaving you here, and since I’m not suicidal, it would be wonderful if you’d look for something to push off against. We need to get into deeper water. You’re a strong swimmer. Once you’re away from the edge, you should be able to swim and right yourself. When you’re upright you can walk ashore.

  “I’ll crush you.” His body tensed again.

  “No panicking.” She smacked his chest, but her own heart pounded with fear. She wasn’t sure if her plan would work. “Don’t worry. I’ll get out of the way in time. Promise.”

  “Sorsha…”

  “Just do what I say. I’ll let you win our next fight.” He didn’t laugh at her joke. Probably not a good sign. “Come on. I’m getting tired. Make up your mind.”

  He shifted slightly and glanced back in her direction. “I found a ledge that will suffice. Swear you’ll get out of the way.”

  “Promise.”

  Shadowdancer stared into her eyes. His were filled with an emotional pain—one she wanted to soothe away. Once more, she glanced at his new body and didn’t know how she could make that better. But right now, his new form was the least of their worries.

  “Are you ready?” he asked and then waited in silence.

  “Yes.” After a quick kiss pressed to his temple, she released her hold and pushed off from the bottom, arching back into deeper water. She’d only made it a short distance when something with the delicacy of a log in rapids slammed into her, crushing the air from her lungs while pushing her to the bottom of the pool. A hoof struck her leg. She would have screamed in pain, but instinct saved her from inhaling water.

  She made for the surface only to run into the bulk of a massive body above her. His forelegs thrashed fearfully close to her head. She tucked herself into a ball, hoping he’d swim over her without doing too much damage.

  A hand reached down and grasped her shoulder in a painful grasp. He hauled her up between his front legs as he scrambled up the slope and out of the water. When they reached dry land, Shadowdancer heaved her onto the uneven stone floor and knelt down in front of her. Once he released her, his fists clenched and loosened with indecision. After a slight hesitation that lasted moments but felt like candlemarks to Sorsha, he reached for her and drew her to his chest where he simply held her as he shook.

  The pounding of her heart and the rasp of his breathing were the only sounds beside the drip of water on the stone floor. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to; each could feel the other’s fear and relief.

  Finally Shadowdancer moved, his hand coming up to pet her matted hair. After he placed a kiss on the top of her head, he stated in a low voice, “You lied. You didn’t get out of the way.”

  “Sorry,” she mumbled into his chest. “I really did think I could get out of there in time.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It was the oddest sensation to hold Sorsha and know it would be the last time he could touch her. Because of that, he caressed her in a slow, methodical way, wanting to remember the feel of her, the smell of his Herd Mistress, guardian of his heart. Sorsha didn’t try to pull away from the horror he’d become. She was too brave for that, but he’d seen how her expression had changed from incomprehension to a flash of horror when she’d first looked upon him in the water and understood what price the Oracle had exacted. The Mark of the Oracle. Just what being a Harbinger dictated.

  Shadowdancer felt the horror growing within him again. He chuckled with humorless laughter. He’d thought the Oracle had meant some kind of a symbol like a tattoo or a brand. No, its idea of a mark was somewhat more spectacular.

  If he closed his eyes and didn’t move, it was easy enough to ignore his new body, for it felt both familiar and strange.

  Sorsha’s small hands slid down his chest, pausing at his waist and then, after another moment’s hesitation, continued onward to explore where his human torso merged with his santhyrian withers. He wanted her to stop, not sully her hands upon such an unnatural combination… and yet… he needed her touch to chase away the self-loathing, even for a few moments.

  “You’re not a monster. Trensler is the monster. Remember that.”

  Her words gave him the strength to hold her out to arm’s length and gather his hooves under him. Not because she didn’t think him a monster, because he knew the truth, but her mention of Trensler reminded him of his duty—to protect his Herd Mistress.

  And he would fulfill all his obligations; he would become the Oracle’s Harbinger, no matter the personal cost. When he started for the stairs, Sorsh
a called after him. He ignored her as she followed him doggedly up corridors that led to the outside world.

  “Where are you going?” Sorsha asked with growing worry clouding her voice. She looped an arm over his withers and stroked his hide, the hand caressed higher up along his human back. It was a blunt attempt to divert him from his path. When that didn’t work, he felt her call her magic. His lips twisted into a snarl. He captured her hand and dragged her forward until she stood three steps above him on the stairs, effectively making them eye-level.

  “I must stop Trensler and rescue the Falcon Staff as the Oracle demands.” He snatched her other hand before she could touch him again. “I honor my word.”

  “Wait!” Sorsha yelled at him as he pushed past her, and continued his lunging trot up the steep, twisting stairs. He didn’t slow until he saw sunlight and freedom a few strides ahead. Next to the small hole, which he and Sorsha had had to wiggle through to get inside the Oracle’s mountain dwelling, another larger archway now opened to the outside world. Seemingly, he had the Oracle’s blessing.

  Shadowdancer was halfway across the floor of the upper cavern when Sorsha burst out of the dark stairway and into the cavern behind him, shouting curses as she ran.

  “I’m supposed to come with you, you great idiot!”

  He slowed long enough to gather up one of the packs they’d left near the entrance. It held water and a few other foodstuffs, enough to fuel his body for a short time. The other pack he left for Sorsha. If he managed to rescue the Falcon Staff, he’d come back here and collect her, and then return Sorsha to the Herd. His plans didn’t extend beyond that point; he really couldn’t imagine his life without Sorsha in it, even though all his dreams were now impossible.

  After trotting under the archway and out into the welcoming mountain winds, he slowed to allow his sight to adjust to the noontime sun. When he could see again, Sorsha had darted around in front and planted herself firmly in his path.