I Walked with Shadows (Sightless Book 1)

by K. C. M.

  His brilliant eyes turned back to her. After a long pause, he said, “No race is entirely evil. Some people are more selfish. Some are more violent. Some are taught differently. That doesn’t make them evil. We all choose.”

  He seemed troubled and she let the topic drop, promising herself she’d ask him more later.

  The closer they got to the mountains, the colder the nights were getting. Autumn had arrived here much earlier than it had in the forest. Connor relaxed against a boulder with only his cloak for warmth. He should have thought to grab gear for Holly while they were in Pharo…it wasn’t like anyone there would have missed a coat, scarves, or gloves. As it was, his urgent need to get away had rubbed off on Holly and they were already in the foothills of the Metal Mountains. That was quick traveling, even for him.

  Holly had been so exhausted, she’d simply collapsed into a shivering ball when he’d announced they’d spend the night here. Noticing the shivering, he’d wrapped both the bedroll and his blanket around her. Saragon had chosen to weather the night with them and he’d laid down close enough to the girl that his warm body blocked the wind. Connor had taken the other side, thinking that he might also help block the wind. Unfortunately, with only his cloak, that left him bitterly cold.

  He wasn’t surprised when Holly started to twitch and mumble in her sleep. When she woke with a shriek on her lips, he covered her mouth, muffling the sound. Her eyes were terrified as they met his. “It’s alright,” He soothed. “I’m keeping watch.”

  Some of the fear faded, but it was replaced by tears. “I keep seeing the village.” She whispered.

  “I know.” He knelt closer and stroked her hair once. She’d had nightmares almost every night since. “Try to go back to sleep.” He eased a small distance away from her again, returning to his night vigil.

  Her eyes closed, but he knew she didn’t sleep. He wasn’t surprised when she sat up and scooted closer to him. “What did it, Connor? Who would kill an entire village like that?”

  The question was the same question he’d asked himself before on many other occasions. What kind of man could kill an entire village without feeling any remorse?

  The weak die. A cold voice reminded him.

  He reached instinctively for the shadows, double-checking to make sure that they really were alone out here in the foothills.

  Holly touched his shoulder, brining him back to the present. “Connor…just who are you?” When he took too long to reply, she fumbled for words, trying to rephrase the question, probably worried he would brush her off with a curt reply. “I mean, I know that you’re an…” She took a breath. “An assassin. And when we were kidnapped by the elves back in the forest, they called you ‘Dark One,’ like it was more than a term or a nickname. They also said that they were going to take you to the Light Elves. And the village…that had something to do with you, didn’t it?”

  He turned his face away, but she moved around to his other side, forcing him to look at her. “Please, tell me what is going on.”

  “It’s better if you don’t know.” He warned, softly.

  She shook her head. “A lack of knowledge will just make me ignorant and unprepared.”

  Knowledge is power.

  “Just…start with telling me who you are.”

  He felt a wry smile twist his lips. “You say that like it’s simple to tell someone who you are, but we’re defined by a million moments in a lifetime. I can never really tell you who I am.”

  “Try.” She persisted stubbornly.

  He tilted his head, regarding her. The moon was only half full, but its light was bright enough that it still lit silver highlights in her hair. “Can’t you guess what I am?” She frowned, her eyes flashing, but he held up a hand to stop the tongue-lashing she looked like she wanted to give him. “Think, Holly. Who would the Light elves be hunting?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know that Light elves existed before this. I barely knew elves existed in general!”

  “Elves have existed for a long time.” His head tilted back and he looked up at the moon. “And they’ve been fighting for almost as long as they’ve existed. I don’t think there was ever a time that the elves weren’t fighting, even before the War of Races began.” He took a breath, pondering the irony of history. “Elves, humans, gnomes, fairies, etc.” He waved a hand to indicate all the other races. “We’re all technically the same species, we’ve just…evolved differently, becoming entirely separate subspecies, which is where the term race comes into play. Apparently, subspecies was too scientific and long to be used.” He smiled and her lips twitched in response. “The point is that the elves actually have divided even further. There are four types of elves known today. You’ve met Forest Elves now, but over the mountains are their opposites, their sworn enemies, the Iron Elves.” He fell silent.

  “So if another type is Light Elves, then the last subspecies is Dark Elves.” She surmised.

  His lips twisted into a self-deprecating smirk. “But of course.”

  “And because they’re opposites, they fight each other. That’s why elves were fighting even before the war.”

  He nodded once.

  She was quiet, for a moment. Then she startled him by asking, “What does it mean to be a Dark Elf?”

  How was he supposed to answer that? Even before the War of the Races, the Light Elves had hunted the Dark Ones nearly to extinction. His kind had been forced to hide and he’d grown up in an underground community. Literally, it had been underground. The caverns had provided excellent wells of shadows. One cavern in particular…

  “Connor?” She touched his arm.

  “It means being hunted unless you can become the hunter.” She opened her mouth to ask another question, but he stopped her. “You need to try and sleep, Holly. We’ll be moving fast tomorrow.”

  She moved away, lying down. Her voice was soft and tired when she asked, “What’s hunting us?”

  “The past,” Connor replied softly. “Now, sleep.”

  It’s strange how moments shape a life. Not just the huge, momentous moments, but also the little ones, the tiny decisions that lead to a life-changing moment. It had started in the inn room, when he’d known he should have killed the intruding maid. That led to the barn, the streets, and eventually the forest. Every time he’d been faced with a choice, he’d been tempted to turn away, to run away, or even completely do away with the choice, but he never had. Each instant of returning to the girl had led to the culminating instant, when he’d realized that, despite his doubts, he wasn’t really going to leave her. That was the real reason he’d used her name, because names meant something and using hers was that final acknowledgement that she actually meant something.

  It changed something between them and yet it changed nothing.

  The next day, she continued to ask a million questions that he had no intention of answering. She continued to get frustrated when he outright ignored her, but he didn’t bother to walk away anymore. They both knew he wasn’t really going to leave her.

  “What did you mean when you said the past is hunting us?” Holly finally asked well into the afternoon.

  Connor glanced up at the sky. He’d been hoping she wouldn’t ask, but had known she would. Honestly, he was surprised it had taken her so long. “I suppose it would be more accurate to say, my past.” He amended grudgingly.

  “Who is it from your past?”

  “We’re moving too slow if we don’t want to die.” He changed the subject abruptly, not bothering for finesse. “We should run for a while if you’re able too.”

  She frowned and grumbled, but broke into a jog.

  Soon she was sweating and her heaving breaths were making it hard to clearly hear the forest around them. He stopped and dropped onto his knees in front of her. “Get on.”

  “What?” Her face twisted.

  “We’re moving too slow and you’re breathing loud enough to wake the dead. Get on.”

  She started to de
fend herself, but snapped her lips shut. “Fine.” She finally clambered onto his back, awkwardly arranging herself.

  It was too bad that some time during the early morning Saragon had disappeared, Connor lamented. His hands gripped underneath her knees, helping her hold on as he took off. It was awkward, trying to run like that, but he didn’t need to make it far. The werebeasts and their master had reached Pharo before them, but Connor was certain that the secret paths he knew through the mountains would enable him to lose the beasts. He just needed to make it to the Lake of the Lost. The water would help hide his scent. Plus, the fairies who had created the lake had never much cared for the beasts of shadow. The werebeasts wouldn’t be able to touch the water.

  The trees were growing thin, when Holly’s grip tightened. “There’s water up ahead.” She raised an arm and pointed.

  Connor glanced up through the fallen strands of his own dark hair. “Aye.”

  “Is that where we’re going?”

  “Aye.” He couldn’t say anything else. His body was finally starting to feel some of the strain. How long had it been since he’d slept, anyways?

  Somewhere, far to the left, a shadow vibrated and whispered a warning. Connor’s tired body surged with adrenaline. As he ran desperately to the lake, a growling roar split the air.

  Holly tensed. He dropped her at the edge of the lake. “What was that?” She whispered, following him as he rushed to the bushes where he’d hidden a boat long ago. “Was that them?”

  “Get in,” He commanded, shoving the boat into the water and snatching up a paddle.

  She clambered in the front and he shoved off, paddling with hard, quick strokes, sending the boat careening out into the lake.

  “Connor!”

  Her eyes were scared, glued on the edge of the forest. Something drifted in the shadows, out of sight, stalking and growling its frustration. Connor studied Holly’s face and saw there were shadows under her eyes. She hadn’t slept well the night before and he’d made her run most of today. “Try to rest some, Holly. It won’t come near the water. Not in this lake, anyways.”

  “What is it?”

  He unshouldered his pack, found the blanket, and then tossed it to her. “It’s called a werebeast. It can’t come in water that’s tainted with fairy magic. We’re safe here, I promise.”

  She tucked the blanket around herself and curled up. She looked like she might want to ask more questions, but the rocking of the boat and her own exhaustion caught up with her and she fell asleep quickly.

  Fighting his own weariness, Connor continued rowing, his sharp eyes picking out the distant landmarks he needed.

  9 Swearth Wood

  It was much later when Holly stirred awake. For several seconds, she couldn’t even figure out if she was really awake. It was so dark that she couldn’t tell the difference between when her eyes were open and when they were shut. She started to panic, when she realized that she wasn’t even in the boat anymore.

  Someone was holding her.

  “Connor?” She whispered hoarsely.

  “Mmm?” His chest vibrated against her ear.

  Her heart stopped beating so wildly and she relaxed. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “A long time,” He murmured and she heard a trace of amusement in his voice. “Don’t worry. You needed the rest.”

  The night air was much colder than she remembered. She reached up, sliding her hands over his shoulders, so she could wrap her arms around his neck. She pressed close to his heat. “You need to rest, too. You haven’t slept in days.” She mumbled back.

  He chuckled. “Go back to sleep, Holly. When we get to safety, I’ll sleep.”

  She didn’t go back to sleep. Instead she shifted. “Connor, I can walk.”

  “You’re not going to let me do this for you, are you?”

  For some reason, that made her blush. She shook her head. “I don’t want you to have to carry me.”

  “Will you let me carry you if I tell you that you’re walking will only slow us down?”

  “I feel much better. I can run.”

  “It’s too dark.”

  “Why is it so dark?” She asked, realizing suddenly how odd it was that she couldn’t see, even for a moonless autumn night.

  “This is the Swearth Wood. It is notorious for a canopy of trees and branches that lets in no light.”

  “How are you able to see?”

  “Have you already forgotten what I am?” His voice took on an edge, a slight bite, but she was certain it was directed more at himself than her.

  She hesitated. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

  “All friends are burdens at some point.”

  She thought that over. She had always felt comfortable around people. Back home, she’d had several friends, some close and others not. She’d never minded helping them out when they needed it and she supposed that they hadn’t minded helping her when she needed it. Still…friend seemed such a strange word to use for her relationship with the assassin. She recalled the first few times she’d seen him…she’d been terrified.

  Holly pushed the memories away and instead focused on everything they’d been through since then. “Is that what we are? Friends?”

  He replied very quietly, “I’ve never had a friend before.”

  Her heart broke at his confession. She wasn’t sure how to respond. If she sympathized, she was worried he’d pull away, but she couldn’t just ignore what he’d said. She shifted, tightening her arms around his neck, and hugging him. “I’m glad we’re friends.”

  He chuckled. “Me too, maid.” He teased.

  She flicked his ear teasingly. “I have a name.”

  Connor suddenly stopped.

  “What is it?” He set her down carefully, but her feet had fallen asleep and she had to clutch his arm so she didn’t fall over. “Connor?” Her voice quivered. She’d traveled with him long enough to recognize the tense way he was standing.

  “There’s a tree sixteen paces ahead of you. Go to it and hide under the branches. Don’t move from there no matter what you hear. I’ll come back for you soon.” He pulled free from her grasp and suddenly she was very much alone in a night that was abysmally dark.

  Uncertain what else to do, she stumbled ahead, her hands outstretched.

  She ran into the tree and nearly lost her balance. For a moment she paused, taking deep breaths. Somehow in the black darkness of the night, her other senses had grown more sensitive. Holly let her eyelids close, sinking into her other senses. The bark felt rough under her fingertips. The wind blew unevenly against her face, creating a singular melody of whistling. It rustled leaves overhead. Somewhere, there was a chilling howl that sank lower, turning into a guttural growl.

  The memory from the lake surged forward. A growling roar, the way Connor had tensed as if he were scared, how fast he’d paddled the boat, and something that she couldn’t quite make out in the shadows of the forest…what was it he had called the creature? Werebeast.

  She’d never heard of a werebeast. There were legends of werewolves, werecats, and even werebears. From everything she’d been told, they were just magical creatures that had the ability to shift between human and their bestial counterpart.

  Holly pressed her back to the trunk of the tree, sliding down against it, making herself as small as possible. She didn’t bother to open her eyes, but instead tried to feel the surrounding area with her senses. The legends about the different were-animals hadn’t really frightened her…not when there were so many other things to be frightened of, but if Connor was afraid, then she knew she didn’t stand a chance on her own.

  She reached down into her boot and slid free the small dagger Connor had given to her.

  It was too small to do much good, but she felt safer with it out. At least if she were to die, she’d die trying to protect herself.

  Holly’s lips stretched in a feral grin. Two weeks ago she’d never have thought about death so lightly. She would have never thought she’d su
rvive in the magical forest, survive almost being caught by Forest Elves, and end up with an assassin for a friend.

  Were they really friends? Could one be friends with an assassin?

  She never would have made it this far if it weren’t for him.

  She never would have been out here if it weren’t for him.

  No, she’d be back in Myre, doing the same thing she did every day, cleaning the inn and serving guests.

  As terrifying as her life had become, as terrified as she was in that moment, she wouldn’t choose to be in Myre.

  Refortified, she adjusted her grip on the small dagger.