After long moments, he pulled the cloak away and released his grip on Carth’s mouth. “You would be wise not to scream.”
She met his pale-eyed stare and could do nothing other than nod.
The man kept one hand locked around her wrist and dragged her forward, pulling her as he approached the three dead A’ras and the woman. Carth wanted to look away, but couldn’t. She needed to know.
As she neared, she recognized stitching along the dark green fabric first, placed there by her mother years ago. She didn’t need to see the waves of raven hair now strewn on the stone, or her mother’s gentle lips, now unmoving, or even the silver ring on her finger to know that it was her.
Carth sobbed.
“Quiet,” the man hissed.
Carth couldn’t stop the tears. They dripped down her face and she wiped at them. Where was her father?
But even as she wondered, she knew. Al-shad had said there was a man at Baldun Temple, and there was the man she’d seen dragged through the street earlier. She hadn’t been willing to look, but if she had, would she have recognized her father?
Why would the A’ras come for her parents?
“You know this woman?” The man knelt next to the A’ras and ran his free hand quickly over their bodies, dropping a pair of knives and a coin purse onto the ground next to him.
Was he nothing more than a scavenger? Had he wanted the A’ras to die so that he could search them?
When she didn’t answer, he jerked on her arm again, forcing her to give him her attention.
“Girl! Do you know her?”
Carth stared at the silver ring on her mother’s finger, woven to look like thorn branches pointing inward. Carth had never managed to pull the ring from her finger, and her mother never seemed to mind how the thorns poked her.
“She’s my mother,” she said in a whisper.
“Mother? And she managed to reach the city?” The man watched her a moment, waiting for Carth to answer, but there was nothing for her to say. He slipped the ring off her mother’s hand and tossed it to Carth. “Best not to flash that around here, I think.” Then he turned his attention back to the fallen A’ras.
Carth needed to get free. She didn’t know what this man might want with her, but her parents had warned her often enough what happened when adults attacked children. That was part of the reason they played the games with her. Once she got away, she could get to the temple and find her father. He needed to know what had happened.
And then what?
Carth’s entire world had changed. Her mother was gone, not only killed by the A’ras, but because of that brutal man Felyn who had wanted her alive.
Which meant they wanted her father. Or worse—already had him.
She needed to find him, free him if she could. Then he might find a way to protect himself and her.
As the man moved on to the clean-shaven A’ras, Carth grabbed for one of the knives lying on the ground.
She did so quickly, spinning as she did and trying to pry her wrist free. Her father had shown her a few tricks, and she used one now, forcing her hand down while kicking at the same time.
The movement startled him, and she got free. Carth held the knife in front of her.
“That was foolish, girl,” the man said. He kept his eyes on her face, ignoring the knife pointed at him.
Carth took a step back, unintentionally stepping into the square. That was a stupid move, and she knew it. The wall wasn’t too high to climb, but high enough that it would slow her as she tried to escape. And she didn’t think there were any other ways out of the clearing. Getting free would involve moving quickly.
“Come with me. I can keep you safe.”
Carth shook her head, jabbing toward him with the knife. “My father will keep me safe.”
“Your father is—”
She didn’t wait for him to finish telling her what her father was.
Carth scrambled back and reached one of the walls. As the man approached, she reached for the top of the wall and pulled, throwing herself over the edge. She landed in a roll, already starting to come to her feet and darting toward the alley.
The man chased, leaping the wall with more agility than she would have expected someone of his age to be capable of.
The mouth of the alley opened before her, and she raced toward it. Like the one her parents played with her, this was a game, only this time, the stakes meant her life.
She ran, racing toward the temple, needing to find her father, but fearing that the slender assassin would have gotten there first.
2
Carth lost track of how long she ran. Her sides ached and sweat left the entire back of her dress damp. She easily found where she needed to go. Most within the city knew how to find the temple, a place where men had once worshipped the god Baldun, but which was now empty. The temple rose near the middle of the city, higher than anything around it. She approached slowly, eyes drifting to the three towering spires of pale white stone that rose skyward before she pulled her gaze back to the temple itself.
She had never visited. Nyaesh had many areas that were unsafe and, according to her parents, the temple was one of the most dangerous places in the city. Now she approached alone and armed with only a knife stolen from a dead A’ras.
As she crouched in an alley, she paused to study the knife. It had a strange hilt of smooth black, with a texture like bone. The blade matched the hilt, nearly black as well. Carth had been careful not to touch the edge of the blade for fear of accidentally poisoning herself. Letters carved into the blade were in a language she didn’t recognize.
Had a knife like this killed her mother? Had it been this knife?
Carth couldn’t believe that her mother was gone. They had been playing a game, nothing more! Her mother would not have hurt anyone to deserve her fate.
Yet the A’ras and Felyn had sought her. They wanted her father. And they would have grabbed Carth if not for the other man trying to abduct her.
Had he been with them?
She’d lost him in the run from the square, but he had heard the same comment about the temple. If he’d followed her here, she didn’t know if she could outrun him again. Her legs ached and her chest felt tight from the running.
Thinking of her mother brought tears to her eyes again, and she wiped them away. Father. She needed to find her father. Then she could mourn.
She focused her attention on the temple. A wide, arched door remained closed and no one moved along the street outside. Was that normal? She’d expected there to be more activity, especially after what she’d overheard.
After waiting for movement, Carth stepped away from the neighboring building and started toward the temple. She kept the knife at her side as she crossed the street, not wanting to draw attention to herself—but then, with the street empty, her presence alone would draw attention. She grabbed her braid and pulled on it, trying to calm herself. Her heart raced, but that could be as much from the run through the city as from nerves.
At the door to the temple, she pushed.
The door opened and she slipped inside. Lanterns hung on hooks along the walls, burning with a dull orange light, leading all the way down the hall.
Carth froze. She’d thought the temple empty.
A thick red carpet ran the length of the entry, leading toward a wide hall. The temple was supposed to be abandoned, her father having told her that the god Baldun had fallen out of favor. Though nothing moved in the distance, the lanterns made it clear that someone had been here.
What would she say if she was discovered? She had an A’ras knife, and if they learned that the others were dead, would she be blamed? Maybe she could find out why they had wanted her mother and why her father had been dragged to the temple.
She made her way carefully, watching for movement. With each step, she knew that she should turn around, but the possibility that her father was here, and that he was injured, pushed her forward.
What would she do if she came
across any A’ras? She could run, but only so fast.
The carpet running the length of the hall ended, and she reached stone. Stepping forward, she made her way to the wall, not caring for how exposed she felt in the middle of the hall. A wide room opened in front of her, and the fading daylight streamed in through overhead windows. Carth paused but saw nothing in the room.
Where would they have taken her father?
And why did the temple seem empty?
She crept around the massive chamber, moving carefully. As she reached the opposite side of the room, a flash of movement caught her attention and she dropped to her stomach behind a tall pillar.
“They brought him here,” a rough voice said.
Carth moved her head around the pillar, wanting to see but knowing that she should not. Anything that made her more visible put her in danger, but she needed to know.
“There’s nothing here, Ander.”
“I see that.”
“Why the temple, though? Seems strange, especially since the Nyaesh abandoned the old god.”
“As strange as how easily three A’ras died?”
“The A’ras have never been the threat they would like others to believe, Jhon.”
“No,” Ander said, “but that doesn’t negate their skill. Dispatching three with the barest of movement… have you ever seen anything like it?”
“Not here,” Ander whispered. “They shouldn’t have reached here yet.”
“You could have intervened.”
“What would that have accomplished?”
“We might have someone to question,” Jhon said.
The longer she listened, focusing as her parents had taught her when playing street games, the more she realized that she recognized one of the voices. Not Jhon. He had a youthful and deep voice, but not one that she’d heard before. Ander… that was the voice she recognized.
When she risked lifting her head, she understood why.
The older man who had tried abducting her stood beneath one of the lanterns on the other side of the temple. His gaze scanned the surroundings and Carth resisted the urge to throw herself further behind the pillar, but her father’s warning voice told her to remain still. Movement attracts attention. Stay at the edge of the shadows.
When Ander’s gaze turned away, she slowly moved back behind the pillar. Would they come over here as they searched the temple, or would she be safe remaining here?
“I thought we might find answers coming here,” Ander said. “The Reshian…”
Jhon laughed softly. “You intended to intervene here, but not in the street?”
“That’s not how it is done,” Ander said.
“So you keep telling me.”
“See what you can find. The A’ras claimed the other was brought here.”
Footsteps thudded across the stone. Carth pulled her legs into her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible. If this man caught her, she doubted that she’d have the strength needed to escape.
As the footsteps came closer, she gripped the hilt of the knife tighter and slowly started to stretch her legs. If she needed to escape, she would be ready and would do whatever it took. Her father wasn’t here. Carth hoped that he might have gotten back to their home and to safety.
“Anything?” Jhon’s voice echoed across the emptiness.
The footsteps stopped. “There’s nothing here.”
“And not in the side rooms either,” Jhon said.
“You’ve already checked them?”
“I don’t need to open doors to know they’re empty.”
The footsteps thudded against the stone again, this time moving away. “Then we’re leaving. Time to see what else we can learn.”
“What of the girl?” Jhon asked.
“I’ll find her soon enough.”
Carth froze, careful not to move as the footsteps steadily made their way out of the temple. She almost refused to even breathe. Taking anything more than the shallowest of breaths risked exposing her. Her hand cramped from squeezing the knife.
Nothing more came through the temple.
Carth allowed herself to take a breath and slowly stand. Clinging to the pillar, she peered around it but saw nothing. As Jhon and Ander had reported, the temple was empty.
Her footsteps thundered in her ears as she made her way around the edge of the temple. Moving silently and without detection had all been part of the games she’d played with her parents. She’d never mastered it quite like her father. He could slip along behind her, making almost no noise, so silent that she would almost believe that he wasn’t there. Carth had learned to find him by focusing on his breathing, and on the way the wind shifted when he did, touching her skin or pulling on her clothing differently.
Thinking of him made her throat feel thick again and she swallowed back the lump that formed. He had to be unharmed, didn’t he? She couldn’t believe that he would have been so easily captured, not knowing how well he could hide himself and how well he could keep hidden. So maybe the man she’d seen the A’ras carrying down the street hadn’t been her father. If that was the case, she had to find him.
There was one place she could look, the place where they had agreed to meet in the event that they became separated. A place like that was necessary with their games, and they had wanted for her to have a place of safety, only she had never had to use it. Either they’d stayed close enough to her, or, as Carth had grown and become more skilled, she hadn’t had the need. Until today.
Now she would go looking for her father only. Her mother would never join them again.
As she reached the hall and the transition from the tile to the carpet, Carth thought she saw movement at the edge of her vision. Had Ander or Jhon returned?
She should have been more careful. The temple was dangerous—she knew that—and she had relaxed her guard when she’d found it empty.
Carth ran.
With the first step, she realized that she should have remained still, or moved slowly at least. That had been the lesson her father had taught her. Sudden movement like this would only get her noticed, but her racing heart and fear for her father made her careless.
Was it her imagination, or did she hear footsteps?
She couldn’t turn around. Doing so would only slow her. Instead, she gripped the knife tightly as she raced toward the door. Carth slammed her shoulder into it and went flying out of the temple to tumble down the steps outside.
Rolling to her feet, she hazarded a glance behind her.
There was movement inside the temple but she didn’t remain long enough for them to catch her. If it wasn’t Ander or Jhon, that meant it was one of the A’ras. Either way, she needed to move on. Her father wasn’t here.
The empty street practically screamed at her presence as she ran. It wasn’t until she managed to turn down a wider street leading toward the fortress at the heart of the city that people began to fill the streets. A few people glanced at her, but she hurried past, sneaking around them as she raced forward. Only after she made a few more turns did she finally allow herself to relax.
Carth knew most of the city well. That had been another of her parents’ lessons. They hadn’t been here long, but her mother had particularly wanted to ensure that she could find her way around without them. Most of the time, it didn’t matter. When had she ever been left alone in the city before now?
She found the street market near the river. It was a busy place—a public place, and one that her father had instructed her to find if she ever needed them. Massive ships were moored along the docks of the Maladon River, so wide here as it flowed toward the sea. Most of the ships had markings, colors that she had long ago learned, but a few were unmarked.
Weaving through the crowd, Carth spied a pair of A’ras striding down the street. She shrunk away, back toward the shadows. What if they looked for her? Worse, what if Felyn came after them? The simple and brutal way he’d killed still left her with a chill. In Nyaesh, death was not an uncommon sight. I
t was the reason her parents feared for her as they did. But there were those who dealt in death much more publicly than others, and then there were men like Felyn, who seemed as if killing men mattered no more to him than catching and cleaning fish mattered to the sailors along the dock.
As she scanned the street, she saw another of the A’ras making his way up from the docks. Carth almost started forward, clutching the knife as she did. Anger surged in her over her mother, mixing with fear for her father and the helplessness that started to overwhelm her as she contemplated her next step—whatever that might be.
Two more of the A’ras appeared, and Carth shrunk back.
They stopped across the street, near enough that she could listen to their conversation, but as much as she might want to eavesdrop on the A’ras, she wanted to find her father more.
Carth crept along the wall, keeping her back hugging the stones as she slipped down the street. When she was far enough away, she hazarded a glance back. Nearly a dozen of the A’ras had gathered. One of them spoke rapidly, leaning toward the others as he did. They began to split off, with groups of them going in different directions down the street, each with swords unsheathed.
As a pair of the A’ras approached her, she hid behind a stack of boxes stinking of rotting fish until they were clear, feeling helpless. The A’ras were responsible for what had happened to her mother. Maybe not the ones she’d just seen—the men who had killed her were likely dead—but men like them.
She gripped the knife more tightly as she watched them. The A’ras thought nothing of killing, thought nothing of intimidation, and now her family had been caught up in it. Her mother was gone, probably her father too, though she hated to think that way, and she felt like she had to do something about that.
She might have a knife stolen from one of the dead A’ras, but what did she know about using it? What did she really think she could do if she was attacked?
What if she snuck up on them?
She could slip forward, slide the knife into one of their backs before they even knew she was there. Then she could run. Her parents had taught her to disappear and hide. She could blend into the street so that they never caught her.
Shadow Blessed (The Shadow Accords Book 1) Page 2