Shadow Fire

by Wheaton, Kimber Leigh

  Zane has disappeared again, off to see the resident blacksmith. Some of my arrows need new arrowheads, and I could use a spare string for my bow. In my haste to flee Verdane, I forgot to bring one. With the packing finished, I sit down on the sofa and fiddle with my bow. Checking the linen string, I note it's still in good condition. However, I'm known for breaking them frequently. I tie the bow to my pack and lean back on the sofa. There's nothing left to do but wait for Zane to return.

  ****

  He walks through the door about an hour later carrying several wrapped packages in his arms. The packages are dumped on the table by the sofa. He drops onto the sofa next to me with a relieved sigh and starts sorting through the bundles. Six arrows with brand new arrowheads go into the quiver on my pack. He bought three extra linen bowstrings. Wow, either he expects me to use the bow a lot or he thinks I'm quite clumsy.

  "This is for your sword hand," he says, pulling out a leather half glove. "It helps you grip your sword better."

  I allow him to slip it onto my hand. The fit is perfect. I clench and release my fist several times. The leather isn't stiff but soft and pliable. After removing the glove, I place it on the floor with my gauntlet.

  "This is a gift I had commissioned for you. Close your eyes."

  Another gift? I close my eyes and something cold touches my wrist. Then his warm fingers run light caresses up and down my forearm.

  "Okay you can open your eyes now."

  My eyes blink open, then widen in surprise at the exquisite link bracelet on my right wrist. It's a snug but comfortable fit; making me wonder how he knew the correct size. Runic markings are etched onto four of the silver links. In the center of the fifth link, there's a crescent moon made from what appears to be lapis lazuli.

  "The runes are for strength, protection, wisdom and love. The lapis lazuli in the center is a symbol of protection, enlightenment and healing," he says, pointing to each one in turn.

  My heart feels like it leaps right into my throat, leaving me in stunned silence. Never would I have expected such an incredible gift, the sort one would give their sweetheart. My head is spinning while my heart is wrapped in chaos. The tender touches, the passionate kisses, and now jewelry… could Zane be in love with me too? Glancing into his eager eyes, I wrap my arms around his neck, lightly kissing his lips.

  "Thank you. This is the finest gift I've ever received," I say. My fingers trace along the runes. "Do you suppose it really works?"

  "The accessories creator here is a witch. I've known her a long time," he says, stroking his hands up and down my arms. "When I told her you were the Chosen of Verdane, she was quite adamant the bracelet include both a stone and a rune symbolizing protection."

  "The mere mention of using magic is forbidden in Verdane," I say, somewhat distracted as I play with the bracelet on my wrist. "There was a boy born about a decade ago. He and his family were driven out of town when his magical 'talent' manifested. Of course that was entirely Mayor Franklin's doing… most of the town supported the family."

  "Hmm. Remember when I told you I'd teach you how I started the fire so easily?" he asks, eyes gleaming with undisguised mischief.

  "Yeah. You gonna show me in here?" I ask, laughing at the absurdity.

  "Yes. In fact you don't even have to get up. I'll show you right now."

  The suspense is killing me even though I think it must be a joke. How's he going to start a fire inside with me sitting on his lap? I watch as he holds out his hand palm up. To my amazement, a tiny flame appears just centimeters above his open palm. It dances and flickers until he closes his fist, extinguishing it. Reaching out, I grab his hand and examine the skin. Running my fingers over his palm I realize it's not even warm.

  "How?" I ask in awe.

  "Magic," he replies with a sly smile. "But be forewarned, magic is outlawed in most places. It's why I don't flaunt it to anyone. I happen to like my head where it is," he adds with a dark, far-away look in his eyes.

  "You can be executed for using magic?" I ask stunned. "I guess the boy was lucky to just be run out of town."

  "Yes," he says with quiet resignation. "That's how my mother died."

  The anguish reflected in his eyes is painful, making my heart clench in my chest. Reaching out I caress his cheek trying to offer him some solace.

  "How old were you when it happened?" I ask, though I'm fairly sure I already know the answer. It would explain why he became a mercenary at such a young age.

  "Twelve," he answers, his voice trembling a bit.

  "That's why you became a mercenary so young."

  He nods in response while staring across the room, lost in the memory. How tragic; a twelve-year-old watching his own mother's execution.

  "What about your father?"

  "He's the one who turned her in to the authorities," he whispers. I'm unable to hold in a startled gasp. "She was a great healer. She saved so many lives, gave so much of herself. Then one day she couldn't save a patient. My father was livid. Thinking she did it on purpose, he called for her execution as an evil sorceress."

  The pain in his eyes is raw, an open bleeding wound. I shift our position so he's leaning against me with his head on my shoulder. I caress his hair with one hand while stroking his back with the other.

  "How awful," I murmur, placing a light kiss on his head. What does one say to such an admission? 'I'm sorry' seems woefully inadequate.

  "The person my mother was unable to save was my father's mistress," he whispers. This time I manage to hold in my gasp of astonishment. "The worst part is she really tried. I was with her, assisting. Mother was in so much emotional pain. She'd just learned of this woman's existence. But she really did try to save her." He's silent again, and I continue the soft caresses along his back. "After her execution, I couldn't stand to see my father's face. I left in the dead of night and never returned."

  He gazes up at me with dry eyes. The hurt so deeply ingrained in them has me choking on tears. I let them fall without a sound, crying for the lost boy whose mother was so cruelly wrenched from him.

  "Let's go to bed," I whisper.

  He rises stiffly, falling onto the bed when he reaches the side. I extinguish the gas lamps before lying beside him, pulling him back into my arms. Tonight his head rests on my shoulder. Caressing his hair, I hold him, waiting for sleep to claim his troubled mind. When he's deep asleep, I allow myself to drift off.

  Chapter Eleven

  Race to the Foothills

  The morning arrives much sooner than I'd have liked. Well perhaps morning isn't accurate. Can it be called morning when there's no sign of the sun? Zane must have a good reason to get such an early start, but he isn't sharing. Truth be told, I'm too tired to care. We're heading toward the east, but the sky is dark over the distant Yazard Mountains.

  The worst part is the lack of a path. The grasses we are plowing through are knee high. Who knows what might be hiding in here! Well at least Shadow appears to be enjoying himself. He's bounding all around us, leaving flattened grasses in his wake. The vast prairie is so dark and still, the only sound the soft swish of the blades of grass as we move through. My scalp prickles and the hairs on the nape of my neck tingle. I just can't shake the feeling of being watched. I cling to Zane's arm. When he stops, I bump into him.

  "Careful," he whispers, "monsters dead ahead."

  My eyes dart around but see nothing. How can he tell? He tenses and draws his sword in one fluid motion. Shadow moves to my side, staring into the darkness ahead, his body tensed and ready to fight.

  "I can sense three felriks. I need you to take one down with your bow before they charge," he murmurs.

  Take one down? I can't even see them. A felrik is one of the strange mutated animals that we have come to call monsters due to their monstrous appearance, aggression, and overall nastiness. They're a strange cross between a wolf and a boar… so in the most basic terms, a vicious wolf with giant sharp tusks and serious territorial tendencies.

  "I can't sho
ot what I can't see," I whisper through clenched teeth.

  "Draw an arrow and prepare your bow," he murmurs. "Go slowly. Don't alert them to our presence."

  He unties my bow from my pack and hands it to me. I draw an arrow without a sound and nock it but don't draw the bowstring.

  "Can you sense them yet? Straight ahead of us and a touch to the left."

  Taking a deep breath, I let my eyes scan the plains in front of us.

  "Don't just use your eyes; use your other senses as well."

  I do as he says, listening for any disturbance. My ears pick up movement in the direction he indicated. I peer through the darkness again, and I'm able to pick out dark shadows.

  "I see them," I say in an excited whisper. "I'll aim for the dark mass but no promises on whether I can hit one from here. Can we move closer?"

  "No. We're already in mortal danger this close," he says, placing his hand on my shoulder. "I have faith in your ability. Just concentrate. After you've released the arrow, draw your sword and get behind me."

  His tone leaves no room for argument. I take another deep breath and aim the best I can in the gloom. Without hesitating, I release the arrow. It flies straight at the dark mass. An agonized squeal lets me know I hit my target. Now all I can do is hope I injured it enough to keep it from charging with the other two. A loud rumble permeates the air around us, shaking the ground at our feet.

  Drawing my sword, I dart behind Zane as instructed. He's holding his ground, unmoving, sword at the ready. There isn't long to wait before the red eyes of the felriks are right in front of us. As soon as Zane moves to engage the first beast, Shadow races in front of me, snarling at the monster. A severed felrik head rolls to my feet. I manage to keep down the rise of bile in my throat. Zane falls to one knee, and Shadow leaps over his back to attack the second felrik. Shrill cries fill the air as Shadow tears at the back of the monster.

  "Are you okay?" I ask, moving to Zane's side.

  He grunts in response and runs at the monster under Shadow. Together they make quick work of the remaining felrik. Racing over to Zane, I check him over for injuries. When he appears okay, I release the breath I'd been holding. Shadow lopes to my side, and I scan him for injuries as well. The fact that both males were protecting me from harm doesn't escape my notice. Perhaps it was the close call with the bandit earlier in the week that affected them so. Zane kneels on the ground, wiping the blood from his sword onto the grass.

  The urge to yell at him, to insist I can defend myself bubbles to the surface. The only thing that stops me is the forlorn expression in his eyes when he glances up at me. Since he was worried about me, this time I'll acquiesce to his knowledge and experience. He rises from the ground and sheathes his sword. Realizing mine's still clenched in my tight grip, I follow suit.

  "We need to get moving," he says, pulling me into his arms.

  After a brief embrace, he releases me, and I follow him to the dead form of the felrik I shot with my arrow. The arrow is lodged in the beast's skull. What a lucky shot! Zane tries to remove the arrow, but it's embedded in the monster.

  "Nice shot."

  "It was all luck."

  "No," he says, taking my hand and brushing a kiss on the inside of my wrist. My heart flutters wildly. "Luck certainly played a part, but that shot was definitely more skill than luck."

  A sense of euphoria settles over me at the compliment. My pace quickens in my excitement. I feel ready to take on whatever comes my way. When I realize I raced ahead of Zane, I return to his side, taking his hand and dragging him away from the carnage. He smirks at my sudden enthusiasm but doesn't complain about the new pace I set.

  As we resume our trek toward the eastern mountains, I'm pleased to see the sun begin its slow ascent. The orange, red and yellow hues creeping across the plains lend an ethereal quality to the once darkened prairie. The play of color gives the illusion of a vast fire burning through the distant mountains. As the light envelopes the plains, they lose the eeriness, which plagued me in the darkness of night. My heart becomes lighter the higher the sun rises in the distant eastern sky. Hand in hand, we walk toward the beautiful sunrise.

  ****

  The day is ending and the sun now streaks the western sky with its magnificent colors. Fatigue saps away the remaining strength in my legs, my thighs cramping in a most annoying fashion. There's a dull, burning sensation in my chest making every intake of breath painful. We haven't stopped to rest except for a quick lunch and two short breaks. Though, we've yet to encounter any bandits, monsters are plentiful.

  Between the punishing pace and the endless battles, I'm exhausted. It's becoming harder and harder to walk without stumbling. Before long, my legs reach the point where they refuse to support my weight any longer. I stumble one last time and wind up in a heap on the ground. Zane didn't manage to catch my falling form. He must be tired as well. When he holds out his hand to help me up, I glance at him and shake my head. Now that I'm sitting on the ground, I won't be getting back up anytime soon. Zane drops to the ground beside me.

  "Okay we'll stop for a little while," he says, the catch in his voice betraying his weariness. I stare at him in stunned silence. There's no way I'm walking again without a long rest.

  "No," I manage to squeak out.

  "You want to continue now?" He seems incredulous. The idiot misunderstood me.

  "No. I mean I'm not moving again until morning," I say, glaring at him, just daring him to argue. He stares back for a moment then lets out a big sigh.

  "Okay, you win. But remember how dangerous these plains are. We can't let our guard down."

  He rummages through his pack, pulling out some jerky and two apples. Taking my share, I relax and devour the meal. Hunger satiated, I lie down in the soft grass, gazing at the darkening sky. Zane said we wouldn't likely run into any bandits this far from the merchant trail. Yet when I glance at him, his jaw is clenched while he scans our surroundings.

  "Zane? Are the monsters in this area nocturnal?"

  "Some are. It's never safe out on the plains at night," he replies still staring into the distance. "Go to sleep. I'll keep watch tonight."

  "You must be exhausted too," I argue. He won't be much good in a fight if he's lost to fatigue.

  The glare he shoots my direction takes me by surprise. He's never looked at me with such a dark expression before. His eyes clearly convey the matter isn't up for debate. Well, I've never been one to back down from a challenge.

  "You need to sleep for at least a few hours. Shadow and I can keep watch for part of the night."

  "Fine. Go to sleep, I'll wake you in a while," he snaps before turning his gaze away from me to stare off into the darkness.

  "Whatever, Mr. Attitude," I mumble under my breath.

  Scooting over next to him, I wrap my cloak around my body and curl up with my back against his leg. He brushes the hair from my face before caressing my cheek. Exhaustion has me drifting off quickly, a small smile on my face.

  ****

  The light against my closed eyes awakens me. Zane's strong body is curled around me, and I snuggle back against him. I start to doze off again when it occurs to me that the idiot let me sleep through the night. Struggling in his arms, I try to sit up to confront him but to no avail. He has me firmly in his grip, both arms wrapped around me. My back is flush against his chest, my head tucked under his chin. He's asleep, his breathing soft and even. Deciding to let him continue to sleep, I settle down and close my eyes. Moments later I feel a cold, wet nose on my cheek. Wake up call courtesy of Shadow. Zane stirs and removes his arms from around me. I sit up, stretching languidly before turning to smile down at him.

  "Sleep well?" I ask with a tiny yawn. "Weren't you supposed to wake me to keep watch?" He sits up and runs a hand through his unruly hair.

  "Yeah, about that," he says, catching my eyes with his. "Shadow isn't an ordinary wolf."

  "I know. What gave it away?"

  "He returned shortly after you dozed off, curled up at
your side, and went to sleep. Then several hours later he woke up and stared at me." He pauses, turning to eye the wolf in question. "Quite unnerving, by the way. Then I got this image in my head of me curled around you sleeping with Shadow sitting over us keeping watch." Not knowing what to say, I remain silent. "For a minute or two I thought I was losing my mind. You know lack of sleep and all that…"

  "I warned you," I say smirking. "Even the mighty Zane needs sleep."

  "Anyway, Shadow nudged my shoulder and I saw the same vision again. I realized at that point it wasn't my imagination. Shadow was actually communicating with me." He pauses again, staring at Shadow sitting next to us, his furry head tipped to the side. "I asked him to wake me at dawn so we could continue traveling. Then I curled up next to you and went to sleep."

  "This isn't the first time he's served as night watch," I remind him.

  "No. But it's the first time he's communicated with me. Not to mention following the command I gave him to wake me." His eyes travel from the wolf to me. "As I stated earlier, he isn't an ordinary wolf. So what is he?"

  "Shadow's a fenrir wolf," I whisper.

  "But they were hunted to extinction years ago," Zane argues.

  "Obviously not, since Shadow is one," I snap back. "He was a cub when I found him wandering the forest all alone. We've been together ever since."

  "Amazing, though I understand why you hide his heritage. At one time fenrir wolves were worshipped for their strength and intelligence, until idiotic humans began to fear them. My father used to participate in the annual den cleansing." He pauses, his lip curled in a snarl. "He dragged me along once when I was nine. It broke my heart, watching grown men slaughter tiny pups only days old, their little eyes not even open yet. Shadow gives me hope. Perhaps there are other fenrirs out there."

  "It would be so sad if Shadow is the last," I murmur, staring at the black wolf while trying to fight the nausea threatening to overwhelm me from Zane's words. "I'm hoping he'll find a mate one day."