Cloaked

by Taylor Hobbs

  “It will end badly for us if he catches us,” Charlotte said, stating the obvious.

  Desmund peered at her. “And what road, might I ask, has led you down the treacherous path to my dear friend here? It seems you have traded one dangerous man for another, with an equally uncertain fate.”

  “Fawkes has helped me. More times than I can count,” Charlotte said, coming to his defense. “I can’t believe you would place him in the same category as Belaq—”

  “Well, Fawkes,” Desmund cut her off. “It seems that the Cloaked Shadow is not such a frightening enigma after all. This little girl doesn’t seem the slightest bit afraid of you.”

  “I’m not a little—wait, you know who he is?”

  “Desmund,” Fawkes said in a warning tone.

  “Of course, I know who he is. You think he survived that gash on his head all alone? No. Bloody near tripped over him one morning, I did. Outside of my cave. Wrapped in that damned cloak and all but invisible against the rocks. How he crossed the mountain pass, I have no idea, only that he ended up on my doorstep more dead than alive. I thought for certain he was dead, so covered in blood, until I accidentally kicked him.”

  “She doesn’t need to hear this,” Fawkes said.

  “She is your apprentice, is she not? Shouldn’t she know the origin story of her mentor?”

  “Charlotte is not my apprentice,” he growled. “I’m getting her across the border tomorrow.”

  “Could have fooled me.” Desmund smirked. “You seem to have quite the instinct when it comes to her. In mere hours I’ve seen how you track her movements—”

  “Enough!” Fawkes roared. He whirled around and stalked toward the exit. “I’m going to check the perimeter. Not another word to her.”

  Charlotte watched the exchange with wide eyes, not daring to interrupt. She was dying to know more about Fawkes’ injury and his connection with Desmund. But what exactly did the old man mean when he talked about Fawkes’ instinct?

  The second he was gone, Charlotte turned to Desmund. “Now where were we?” she asked, sweetly.

  That earned her a chuckle of appreciation. “You really aren’t afraid, are you? Let’s see. Fawkes was delirious with fever when I found him. I thought that the infection might do him in if the blood loss hadn’t already. Still, I couldn’t leave him there, could I? Dragged him inside, stitched him up as best I could, then all I could do was wait. He has an insatiable will to live, that boy. Most others would have been done in.”

  “I’ve seen him fight,” Charlotte said. “His power and precision—it is beyond compare. He isn’t afraid of death.”

  “That’s because of the anger deep inside, and that is a feeling not even fear of death can overpower.”

  “Anger?” Charlotte asked. Is that searing anger inside of Fawkes all the time, even when he is with me?

  “That’s what made him fight to live. I believe that only those who are at peace can let go. Fawkes will never have peace. Never.”

  “Why not?” The thought that Fawkes could never be truly happy disturbed the young woman.

  “He blames himself, you see. His wife—” Ghost nickered, interrupting Desmund and sending Charlotte’s thoughts reeling. His wife? Fawkes is married? She blinked and Fawkes was back in the cave, dripping wet from the rain.

  “I couldn’t see much through the storm, but I found no sign of Duke Belaq and his men. This weather is showing no sign of improvement.”

  “You can stay as long as ye like,” Desmund offered graciously. With the subject of their discussion back inside, Charlotte knew she would not get any more answers out of their host.

  ****

  As tired as she was, sleep evaded Charlotte. Every time she closed her eyes, she flashed back to earlier that day, frozen on top of the mountain. Her heart raced and her body was slick with sweat, the stench of fear refusing to let her fall into an uneasy rest. Adding to her fire was her shock at discovering that Fawkes was married. Married. Her daydreams of being such a unique woman that she caught the attention of the notorious Cloaked Shadow now seemed silly and embarrassing. Of course he was eager to get rid of her at the border, and had only entertained her desire to be his apprentice to appease her before getting back to his wife.

  She told herself it wasn’t jealousy and that she didn’t want to be his wife anyway. But you want the Cloaked Shadow’s attention, and his instruction, the voice in her head whispered to her as she tossed and turned. Admit it. You want Fawkes all to yourself. He was all that Charlotte had left in the world. She trusted him completely, no matter his past, and survival instinct made her want to hang on to him with all her might. He held the key to transforming her, to training her into the person she had always wanted to be. But he wasn’t hers. Fawkes belonged to his wife.

  With every muscle humming for action, Charlotte gave up on sleep and slipped quietly into the passageway between the cave and the storm outside. She shivered in the whistling breeze, evaporating the sweat from the stifling interior of Desmund’s home. She dropped to her plank position and started her exercises.

  One…two…three…Soon there was only the rhythm of the exercise, cleansing both her body and her mind. Inhale, exhale. Keep going. Don’t stop.

  Charlotte reached thirty before a tingling on the back of her neck told her she was being watched. She sprung to her feet and whirled around to face her unexpected visitor.

  Fawkes stared back at her through the shadows, the light from Desmund’s hearth flickering across his features. Feet rooted in place, Charlotte waited for him to come to her. He seemed to know what she was waiting for, and closed the space between them in a moment, quiet as a cat. His fist shot out in an attempt to greet her face, but she ducked just in time. She didn’t try to hit him back, but focused all of her energies on avoiding his attacks. With so little room to maneuver in the narrow passageway, Fawkes’ strikes were not at full force.

  Charlotte ducked and dived, using her small frame to her advantage. Every once in a while, she was too late, a well-aimed kick or punch grazed her body, but it wasn’t enough to slow her down. Running high on the adrenaline of the fight, the two of them spoke no words. Their breathing fell in tandem as they danced.

  She knew he was holding out on her, that this attack was not at his full effort. But it wasn’t about who won or lost the spar, it was about being suspended in that dance together. For Charlotte, it was an apology and a promise, and for Fawkes, it represented acceptance and forgiveness. Whether or not their journey together ended tomorrow didn’t cross Charlotte’s mind. It was all about this singular moment in time as she held her own against the Cloaked Shadow.

  Fawkes’ attack pressed Charlotte backward, and soon they were outside. As Charlotte’s feet slipped in the mud, she realized she had lost her size advantage. Lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating her surroundings long enough to blind her, and she failed to anticipate the next punch. It landed hard on her right shoulder and spun her around.

  Before she could steady herself to counter, her arm was wrenched behind her back. Fawkes had a grip on it with one hand, the other around her throat. She stood flush against him, feeling his harsh breath and pounding heart as it beat against her back. They stood like statues, neither one of them wanting to be the first to break the spell.

  The roar of thunder made her jump and brought them back to reality. “I’ve gotten better, haven’t I?” Charlotte couldn’t help asking. She’d meant it as a quip, but it came out too hopeful.

  She felt Fawkes sigh, tensing his hold on her before dropping his grip. With her back still to him, she waited for his answer. Instead, his hand brushed wet hair back from her face before a finger traveled down and traced her jawline. Charlotte leaned into the touch, but then it was gone. She turned to see only darkness, and then a flash of lightning showed his tall frame heading back to the cave.

  Though she was more confused than ever, her physical exhaustion finally overpowered her restless mind, and Charlotte dragged herself back insi
de. She slept before her head hit the blanket.

  Chapter Seven

  Charlotte awoke to the sounds of a whispered conversation already in progress. “…and you’re just going to leave the poor girl alone in Croantis?”

  “What would you have me do?” Fawkes snapped. “Take her with me on the next contract? She will be safe in Croantis.” He paused. “Though I might stay a day or two while I finalize new business,” he conceded. “The increasing rebel activity and escalating conflict mean that my services are in greater demand than ever. If I am fortunate, there will be multiple families with a relative in some trouble. I might have to raise my price.”

  “Very convenient,” Desmund said. “It’s all about the contracts, isn’t it, Fawkes? Not the fact that you’re scared this girl is making you focus on something other than your ‘contracts’? This life you’ve chosen, how long will it last? It’s already been five years. Things need to change—”

  “Things are already changing. This war is only going to get worse, and I intend to profit from it.”

  “It is only a matter of time before your secret is revealed, Fawkes. You’ve lived and worked in the shadows, but now your exploits are becoming legendary. Your anonymity will disappear sooner than you are ready.”

  “Earl Hawthorne attempted to capture me,” Fawkes admitted. “I will just have to be more careful about which contracts I accept in the future, now that nobles are sharing information and working together.” Charlotte heard the scrape of a chair as he stood up. “We’re leaving now, Charlotte,” he said, already knowing she was awake and eavesdropping. “The rain has stopped. The valley will have flooded, which will set Belaq back even further behind. We will cross the border today.”

  With a heavy heart, Charlotte got ready, trying to move as slowly as possible while avoiding rebuke. Desmund appeared to see her despair and tried to bring a smile to her face. “Here, child,” he said, pressing the same book she knocked over the night before into her hands. “This is for you. To practice your reading, and maybe learn a thing or two.”

  “I couldn’t!” Charlotte protested. A book like that was probably worth a fortune.

  “You can return it when our paths cross again,” Desmund said, and gave her a wink.

  “You’re so certain they will?” she asked. She hugged the book to her chest, covering the title.

  He rolled his eyes over in Fawkes’ direction. “Yours will with him, and thus by extension, to me. So keep it safe for me.”

  She shook her head. “Fawkes is leaving me at the border.”

  “Maybe.” Desmund shrugged. “But everything is temporary. You never know with that boy.” He embraced her hard, then approached Fawkes. “You’d better not turn up half-dead or on the run next visit,” he warned the younger man.

  That earned Desmund a small smile from Fawkes, whose distracted thoughts were already beyond the confines of the cave and focused on the outside world. “I can’t promise that,” he said, and stooped to hug Desmund. “But I can promise that this is not goodbye.” He let go and grabbed Ghost’s bridle, heading for the exit.

  Charlotte followed, but turned around at the entrance to wave at their host one last time. A pang hit her heart to see how small and old and alone he was, hidden away from the world. She thought once more of her own mother, and how the world turned against her in the end, becoming an overwhelming and unforgiving place. Aching for a hug from her mother, she settled for patting Ghost affectionately as they walked away.

  “I’m worried about him,” Charlotte confessed, as Desmund became a black dot in the distance behind them. Charlotte wished they could have stayed longer. The corner of her new book peeked out of Ghost’s saddlebag. One of the only possessions she had, and she couldn’t even use it properly. Desmund could have taught her how to read and unlock the book’s secrets. Maybe I should have stayed with him instead of following Fawkes to the border. But watching Fawkes ride off without her would have been more than she could bear.

  “Desmund?” Fawkes asked. “He can take care of himself. There are a few others who know of him and will check on him.” He sighed, looking a bit guilty. “He is a survivor,” he said, almost to reassure himself. Suddenly, he swung his leg up and over Ghost. Looking down at her from the horse, he offered Charlotte his hand. “Come,” he said, with a dare in his eyes.

  She grabbed his arm, and he heaved her up in front of him. Ghost danced with anticipation. Fawkes wrapped his arms around Charlotte and secured her back against his chest. “This journey deserves a memorable end.” His voice reverberated through her body as she tensed, ready for what was to come. He leaned forward and said, “Go.”

  Ghost was off, galloping at a speed that left Charlotte breathless. He hadn’t been let loose like that since the forest. This time, though, Charlotte embraced it instead of feeling terrified. With the wind on her skin and the sun on her face, racing at an unrivaled pace, she laughed with pure joy. Belaq, her family, the destination ahead—none of it could touch her. She was flying.

  Mentally, she urged Ghost on. Faster, faster! She swore she heard Fawkes laughing along with her, but it was hard to hear anything over the pounding of hooves.

  The weight of her worries had lifted off of her small shoulders by the time Ghost started to slow. Charlotte had no idea how far they had gone, or how long they had been running, only that it seemed like an eternity and an instant all at once. Ghost’s pace slowed to a walk, his sides heaving underneath her legs. Sweat soaked his dark coat, but the horse seemed to be in good spirits. He pulled at his bridle as if to ask for more, which Charlotte heartily agreed with. Instead, Fawkes kept them at a controlled pace.

  “King’s road ahead,” he said, by way of explanation.

  Charlotte squinted at the colorful banners in the distance. Just behind the guard tents, she saw a walled city that stretched on forever. It was ten times bigger than any of the villages in Algonia, and she wondered just how different life would be on the inside.

  “Right now we are in the neutral land between countries. The soldiers up ahead are part of the Croantis forces. They monitor the road into their city.” Fawkes halted Ghost and dismounted. He took off his trademark cloak and tucked it safely away in the empty saddlebag opposite to Charlotte’s book. Next, he drew out his heavy purse, silver clinking as three coins tumbled into his hand. He stared at the pile for a moment, then pulled out one more coin. Gold glinted in the sunlight as he handed it to her.

  Charlotte was about to refuse, but he pressed it into her palm with a stern glare. “Put it in your belt pouch. Just in case.” Fingers trembling, she did as she was told. It was more money than she had ever possessed in her life. She could feel the warmth of the metal burning into her hip, reminding her that this was supposed to be her new start.

  Fawkes mounted again and they merged onto the main road. It was still muddy from the rain, and other travelers were few and far between. Charlotte and Fawkes stood out against the poor peasants and farmers who braved the trek, and she wished for a bustling crowd to blend into as they neared the guards.

  “Halt!” a guard ordered them. “From where do you hail?”

  “We come from Algonia,” Fawkes answered. Charlotte was a little shocked at his honesty, until he continued. “I am delivering my niece to relatives inside the city.”

  Charlotte tried to keep her face blank, but her heart thudded in her chest so hard she was sure the guard could see it. What if Duke Belaq somehow got ahead of us? He might have already alerted the soldiers, warning them to look out for a man traveling alone with a young woman! Charlotte didn’t understand how Fawkes could remain so calm, as she was certain he was a wanted man in Croantis as well. Dungeons in Croantis were probably just the same as in Algonia, and as long as Fawkes had a paying contract, borders meant nothing to him.

  If Fawkes had been alone, Charlotte knew he would have simply sneaked into the city after dark. However, this was the fastest way into the city and out of the reach of Belaq, whose forces were most like
ly mere hours behind them, slogging through the valley. If they could just get to safety before the duke could launch an overt attack, they might be able to disappear into the city.

  The guard gave them a once-over. “Toll is one silver piece,” he said, while staring hard at Charlotte’s face. “And these relatives you are visiting,” he said to her, “they don’t mind a woman who dresses like a man?”

  Charlotte stared at him with wide eyes, uncertain how to answer. How could she be so stupid? She should have changed her clothes. What guard would believe she was from a respectable family? So she took a gamble.

  “I’m here to study, in fact,” she said, in her haughtiest tone. Fawkes tensed behind her, but didn’t contradict her as she veered from the original plan of ‘don’t draw attention’. Well, maybe we would have thought about this if you saw me as an actual woman, she thought. But because I appear sexless to you, we overlooked the most obvious problem. It was up to her to fix it.

  “A woman scholar?” The guard snorted.

  “My father had no sons, and assigned me to learn the healing arts with distant family members in Croantis. He’s quite progressive, you know.” Charlotte cocked an eyebrow. “But if I am to be in a man’s world, I might as well dress like one.”

  The guard shook his head. “Never heard anything like that in my life.”

  “Check the right saddlebag if you are uncertain,” Charlotte offered.

  He eyeballed her skeptically, then reached in to pull out Desmund’s book. Behind her, Fawkes let out a hiss when he saw the cover.

  Charlotte doubted that the guard could read anyway, and watched as he thumbed through the book, stopping to look at the illustrations. “This is about medicine? Herbs and the like?” he guessed.

  “Of course,” Charlotte said. “I told you, I’m here to study.”

  “Woman scholar.” The guard shook his head again, but carefully put the book back. He looked at the pair of them with a glint in his eye. “Such a respectable profession must make you very wealthy.”