Slight and Shadow

by Shae Ford

  Nadine went back to the barrel and spooned a ladle full of water into two clay bowls, which she handed to Kyleigh and Silas. They gulped their drinks down without taking a breath. Nadine seemed to be fighting back a smile as she poured them a second.

  A silver brazier sat to one side of the room’s large window, which spilled out into the dizzying drop below. Kyleigh leaned out of it and saw small dots of people moving across the valley. The wind kissed her face, and she breathed it in. She would’ve liked very much to drop out of the window, spread her wings and swoop up to the sky. But she didn’t think she had the strength to pull herself out of a fall, just yet.

  Instead, she traced the sparkling stream of water from where it pooled in the valley floor, up the crooked, wet line that streaked down the walls, to a rock at the top of the lip. It looked a bit like a broken egg.

  “A spring,” Nadine said when she asked. “We will have to hike there tomorrow to refill our water barrel.” She watched Silas gulp down another bowlful and smiled wryly. “Or perhaps we will have to go tonight.”

  “I have a question,” Silas interjected. “I could’ve asked it earlier, but I didn’t want to be rude —”

  “And you also didn’t have the breath for it,” Kyleigh added.

  He scowled at her. “I had plenty of breath. And I still have breath enough to bite you, dragoness.” Then he turned back to Nadine. “Did I hear you say you’ve … bought us?”

  Nadine nodded. “It cost me my entire fortune. The Grandmot owns all three of my goats, now. And I just gave my seed rice to the guards.” Her eyes were distant as she watched out the window. “So even my poor fields will lie empty.”

  Her accent was thick. Kyleigh thought she could hear traces of the song-language in her voice. She felt the sadness in Nadine’s words, even before her mind had a chance to sort them out. They fell like rain striking the rock: muted, and without hope.

  “But I trust Hessa,” Nadine went on, a bit of her strength returning. “So if it is my fate to watch over the a’calla, then I will bear it proudly.”

  “Huh.” Silas narrowed his eyes. “Well, I’m afraid you’ve wasted your goats — I cannot be bought. I belong to no one.”

  Nadine shrugged. “Then I suppose you can return to the Grandmot. She wanted to split you open on an altar while you yet lived, and remove your insides one at a time to purge your body of its cursed soul.”

  Kyleigh choked on her water. “Would she really have done that?”

  “I have seen it done before.” Nadine sat cross-legged on the ground and gestured for them to join her. “I know you are a’calla,” she said, her sharp gaze locking onto each of them in turn. “But you are in my charge. So I will try to help you fit in here the best you can. What you need to understand first,” and here, she looked pointedly at Silas, “is that without my protection, they will kill you instantly. The runes have fallen in your favor, but they cannot keep you safe from the others’ hatred.”

  Silas raised his hand. “And what are runes?”

  “Shards of magical manure that mean absolutely nothing whatsoever,” Kyleigh supplied.

  “That is false, a’calla,” Nadine said with a glare. Then she turned to Silas. “The runes speak the will of Fate — they carry her messages to us from the great beyond. The Grandmot alone knows their tongue. She reads their will and interprets it to us.”

  Kyleigh didn’t say anything. She’d heard about this sort of thing before: of runes and tealeaves and pictures drawn in chicken blood. Very little of it had any meaning. The shapechangers believed that Fate had a will for all living creatures — but it wasn’t anything they could read.

  Fate’s will was an instinct, a change in the weather or a hum on the wind. Kyleigh had felt it once before: it’d been like a hand in the middle of her back, shoving her on, steering her down a different path. The paths Fate chose for her were never simple, and there was always a great deal of mischief along the way. But she thought that might’ve been how Fate preferred to speak.

  She certainly didn’t sit around all day whispering to runes.

  Silas seemed to feel the same way. He burst out laughing, and Nadine’s face crumpled into a look of such hurt that Kyleigh couldn’t stand it. She elbowed him sharply.

  “Ouch! What?” he hissed. Silas followed her glare to Nadine — and for once, he shut his mouth. “My apologies,” he grumbled, when Kyleigh dug her elbow in deeper. “I shouldn’t laugh at such stupid — ow! I mean, at things I don’t fully understand.”

  “It is forgiven,” Nadine said, with a wave of her hand. “Our customs must seem strange to an outlander.”

  “Yes …” Silas seemed on the verge of saying something else, but a sharp look from Kyleigh changed his mind. “Well, now that we’re all settled in — when do we eat?”

  Nadine lowered her gaze. “I do not know. I have surrendered all of my food to the Grandmot.”

  Silas raised his brows. “But isn’t there someplace where we can trade for supplies?”

  Nadine shook her head. Her smile was harsh when it finally cut across her lips. “Not so long ago, there were paths we could take to reach the seas. We would trade our silver wares for all we needed. But now trolls have come up from the north and taken over our tunnels.”

  Realization finally dawned upon Kyleigh. “That room we fought in, the one with the bell …”

  Nadine nodded gravely. “Most of our city is underground. Only the farmers used to live on the surface. But now that the trolls have run us out, we have no choice. We have had to dig new homes out of the mountain.” She collected their bowls and stacked them neatly. “We have been locked out of our city for months, and our supplies are running low. When the soil dries up, so do our stomachs.”

  Shame spread like cold wind across Kyleigh’s face. Nadine had little to her name before they arrived, and now she had nothing. What could she possibly have to gain, trading her family’s fortune to spare the lives of strangers? Though Kyleigh tried to find an answer, the smooth calm of Nadine’s face was impossible to read.

  Well, in any case, perhaps they might be able to help her.

  It took several moments of pointed glaring before Silas finally groaned and got to his feet. “Where do the goats come from?” he said as he stretched his neck.

  Nadine looked confused. “From our families. The herds are passed down —”

  “Right,” Silas interrupted. “But if I wanted to find a new goat, where would I look?”

  “There are deep cracks gouged out of the earth all around our mountain,” she said, spreading her hands. “And at their bottoms, the underground water is close enough to form pools. The wild goats often go there to drink.”

  Silas nodded and turned to leave, but Nadine sprang to her feet.

  “You will not be able to reach them, outlander,” she called to him. “In all of our time here, we have only managed to capture a few that wandered too far up. The path into the ravines is much too steep for human tread.”

  “Ah, but not for the a’calla,” Silas said with a grin.

  *******

  Silas returned a few hours later with a goat draped across his shoulders. He plopped the carcass down at Nadine’s feet and began to busily lick the blood off his skin.

  Nadine stared at the goat incredulously. “Where — how did you manage this?”

  Silas clutched a hand to his chest and said, with an obnoxious moan: “It’s the dreaded curse of the a’calla, to be able to find red meat wherever it hides!”

  Nadine didn’t glare at his teasing. Instead, she held out her hand. “I thank you.”

  Silas stared in confusion until Kyleigh gestured for him to take her hand. He squeezed her fingers once and quickly pulled away, like he thought she might be trying to trick him. “You’re welcome,” he growled.

  Nadine smiled, and it was a rather pleasant smile. Then her gaze went back to the goat. “I wish you had not killed her. I would have liked to use her for my farm.”

  “Farm …” Silas
closed his eyes, mouthing the word. “Ah,” he finally said. “You wish to have some goats to save for later? Well, the next time I go out, I’ll try to catch you a live one. Though they’re much more difficult to carry, when their little legs still have some flail in them.”

  Nadine laughed — and her laugh was every bit as pleasant as her smile. Kyleigh felt the weight of her own heart lifted by it. Even Silas stopped grumbling long enough to smirk back.

  While Kyleigh carved the goat up, Nadine worked with the silver brazier next to the window. There was what looked like an armful of pebbles sitting inside, glowing red like embers. Nadine blew gently on them for a few moments, and they suddenly burst into flames.

  “There is a lake of fire deep in the belly of the earth, and its waters flow like liquid flame,” Nadine explained when Kyleigh asked. “We harvest these rocks from along the shore. They can hold their fire for months. But over time, they get smaller. Many of these started out as the size of my fist,” she said, waving at the brazier. “But soon they will be diminished to ashes. And when that happens, we will no longer have a fire to warm ourselves by.”

  “Can’t you just harvest more?” Kyleigh said as she handed Nadine the first chunk of meat — which she stuck to the end of her spear.

  “We have been trying, but the trolls are keeping us from it,” she said darkly. The meat hissed as she held it over the flames.

  “Yes, and what exactly are the trolls doing here? This isn’t their territory,” Silas murmured.

  Nadine looked surprised. “How do you know this?”

  “Because they haven’t had time to mark it properly. Had they been here for long, the tunnels would reek of troll. But I only caught a faint whiff.”

  “Well, you are right: the trolls do not belong here. They tunneled into our lands from their burrows in the north.”

  “But why would they flee their dens so suddenly …?” Silas’s question dissolved into a purr as he turned to gaze out the window. His eyes closed as the soft glow of the setting sun crossed his face.

  Nadine shrugged. “I do not know. But they chased us out of our great hall a few months ago — blocking the fire lake and many of our underground homes. They have also likely destroyed our mushroom fields,” she added with a sigh. “I have missed having mushrooms.”

  Kyleigh thought for a long moment. “But what was the point of ringing the bell and drawing them out?” she said, when she couldn’t untangle it for herself.

  “The Grandmot believes that is our best plan of attack. We must chew them off one bite at a time — much like how the worm consumes a carcass.”

  Kyleigh wondered if the Grandmot had ever actually seen a minceworm strip flesh from bone. Probably not, since she seemed to think that it was a slow, patient sort of process. The mots didn’t have time to play stones and spears: they were starving. They needed to shove the trolls out of their lands — and quickly.

  But it would do no good to talk badly about the Grandmot in front of Nadine. There was no point in upsetting her further. So Kyleigh kept all of the dark thoughts about trolls to herself.

  Once their bellies were full of goat, it was amazing how quickly sleep came for them. As the sun dipped below the valley’s teeth, they collapsed on the bed. They’d meant to divide the pelts into separate bedrolls, but after Silas fell asleep in the middle of them, Nadine and Kyleigh had no choice but to curl up on either side.

  It had been many long years since Kyleigh had slept in a pile. Humans were so fond of their separate spaces that she’d all but forgotten the fuzzy comfort of her pack. But with Silas’s warm body next to her, and Nadine’s soft breath setting an easy rhythm for her dreams, the longing came back to her quickly.

  This would be the best rest she’d had in many years.

  *******

  It was near the middle of the night when a rough hand clamped down over Kyleigh’s mouth, startling her from her sleep.

  Her eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness. She lay still as a familiarly-severe brow line came into view. One brow sat slightly higher than the other, swollen by a greenish, fist-sized bruise.

  Elena pressed a finger against her mask’s breathing slots as she loosened the hand on Kyleigh’s mouth. She crept towards the doorway, swift as a shadow, motioning for her to follow.

  “Absolutely not,” Kyleigh said loudly.

  Silas jumped and Nadine bolted upright, wiping impatiently at the sleep in her eyes. When she saw Elena, she dove for her spear. And Elena’s daggers came flying out of their sheaths.

  “No, no!” Kyleigh leapt over Silas and used Nadine’s spear to push her against the wall. “Put those knives away, madam,” she growled over her shoulder to Elena. “I promise you that we aren’t in any danger.”

  After a sharp look, Elena flicked her daggers in an arc and sheathed them. She pulled her mask down. Underneath, her mouth was bent in a snarl.

  “Oh, I was so hoping you’d find your way back to us,” Silas muttered. His arm draped over his eyes against the sudden light as Nadine stoked the brazier.

  “Shut up, cat.” Elena turned to Kyleigh. “We shouldn’t waste any more time. Come with me — I’ve found us water and food in the tunnels. We can get a full day’s rest and be fully supplied for the journey home.”

  “Go home, then,” Kyleigh said with a shrug. She took the bowl Nadine offered her and sipped the water, letting it soothe her dry throat. When she looked back up, Elena was still staring at her. She sighed. “Yesterday, you were all peeved with us because you thought we’d stolen your supplies. Now you’ve found some fresh ones. So go pack your bags and be off —”

  “I’m afraid the sandstorm may have covered the safe path you left through the desert,” Elena said quickly. “But I think there’s a way through the tunnels to the seas.”

  Kyleigh didn’t understand her pleading look. “Well … all the better. You can go through the tunnels without having to suffer the sun.”

  Elena’s lips parted — as if she wanted very badly to say something, but couldn’t quite muster the strength to do it. So, Silas did it for her:

  “You’re afraid of the dark!” he cried, cackling as her face flushed red. “I can’t believe it — an assassin who’s afraid of the dark! Ha!”

  “No, it isn’t the dark,” she snapped at him. She turned her head towards Kyleigh, but kept her eyes trained on the ground. “There’s no sky, under there. I don’t like having the pressure of the whole earth sitting above my head.”

  And for the first time in a long while, Kyleigh felt sorry for her. She offered Elena a drink and put a comforting arm about her shoulders. “We’ll make it home someday, I promise. But for right now, things are a bit … complicated.”

  “How so?”

  Kyleigh smirked. “It’s a long story.”

  They spent the rest of the night telling Elena everything that had happened to them in the last chaotic hours. She took one dagger out of its sheath and twirled it about while she listened. Kyleigh found it hard not to be distracted by how easy her movements were.

  For some reason, it made her miss Harbinger all the more.

  “I have no intention of being anybody’s servant,” Elena said when they were finished.

  “Good, because I do not think I can afford you,” Nadine replied with a wry smile. She held her hand out. “May I?” And to Kyleigh’s great surprise, Elena handed her the dagger. Nadine turned the blade over in her hand, studying how the light slipped across its blackened edge. “Outlanders and your strange weapons,” she said, shaking her head. “How many different kinds are there?”

  “Several,” Elena replied, with the closest thing to a smile they might ever expect.

  Silas hadn’t been at all interested in contributing to the story, so he’d gone back to sleep. He woke as he rolled over onto his side, and groaned when he saw Elena. “Ugh, are you still here? I thought you didn’t want to be a slave.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Well, then why don’t you go away?”


  She frowned at him before she took the dagger back from Nadine and slid it into its sheath. “I’m not going to share a space with the cat,” she declared as she stood. “I’ll come back when I feel like it.”

  “Oh, goodie,” Silas muttered.

  And she kicked him in the rump on her way out.

  Chapter 22

  Holey Roofs

  Days trailed by, and Kael’s body began to get used to the work.

  For weeks on end, he’d felt as if he had rocks sewn under his skin. Fist-size lumps formed on the back of his calves and the tops of his arms, and they rolled uncomfortably across his sore muscles. For a while, he’d been afraid that they might actually burst from his skin.

  But planting wasn’t nearly as difficult as plowing had been, and after a few days of lighter work, he began to notice a change: his legs no longer shook when he put them down, he could turn his neck without grimacing. Slowly, the rocks shrank down to something the size of pebbles — and with his body healing, Kael had more energy to plan an escape.

  He paid close attention to the spells Finks had placed around the barn. He watched as the stall doors closed one night and saw the milky white film of a spell stretch over the iron, weaving around it in tight lines. It caught the whole door up in something like a spider’s web. A single loose thread popped free from the end and tensed, trembling, as it pulled the door forward.

  Kael followed the thread upwards and watched as it gathered in a bunch with the threads from other stalls at the top of the ceiling. They slipped through a dark crack in the shingles and stayed there, hanging lightly in the still air.

  He realized that Finks must have the threads connected to him somehow. And if Kael tried to tear through them, he’d probably be able to feel it immediately. Finks would sound the alarm, and the giants would be routed before they even had a chance to fight.