Shadow

by Jenny Moss

  What silliness these women engaged in when all they had to occupy themselves with were hair and clothes and boy knights. But sometimes, I wondered if they were right. I, too, felt I was different from them. I tried to ignore the feeling, though, for why should I fret about something I could not know or change?

  They also gossiped about my father. Not known, they said. A mystery. Hilda even taunted me that he was one of the three old men.

  Could it be Larcwide—the plump, silver-tongued one? Or sour-faced Raeden? Surely not Eldred himself?

  Not possible, I thought. How can I be the queen’s shadow if my father is one of her advisers?

  The queen jumped at the loud knock on the door.

  It was Fyren and his servant—the only ones I liked in the castle.

  Fyren was a great man, the regent of our kingdom, Deor, acting as ruler for the queen until she was old enough herself to do so. And that she would be on her sixteenth birthday. He was the dead king’s own cousin, the king’s only living relative besides the queen, his daughter.

  The ladies said evil things about the regent’s interest in me, but none of them were true. He was almost twenty years older than I, and never overly familiar.

  I liked to watch him, ordering around the brave knights. He could even silence old Eldred, who would stare at the regent with cold, colorless eyes, but always do as he was told. Fyren never yelled. He was just obeyed.

  He had a servant boy, Piers, who attended him. The boy had no one to care for him, to watch over him. He was thin and had a scared look to him, his gray eyes darting about as if no one were to be trusted.

  But I cared for the boy, as if he were a younger brother.

  I thought of the night I found him ill. It was last year, after Sir Kenway had been knighted. A few hours before light, I sneaked out of the queen’s chamber, past the slumbering guard, with only my rolled-up wool blanket in my arms. It had been deliciously easy and freeing to slip out while the inhabitants of the castle slept off their loud and long celebrating from the night before.

  I stopped to tell Piers good-bye. As I watched him toss and turn feverishly on his cot, I knew I couldn’t leave him in such a state. So I took a chance and made my way to the kitchen. The cook was in a foul temper, even more so than usual. While the castle slept, she still cleaned.

  The next day’s soup simmered over the fire. I begged her for a bowl, lying that it was for the queen.

  She eyed me as if she knew the truth and pinched my arm to see if I would give it up. When I did not, she slopped some of the clear bubbling liquid into a wooden bowl and thrust it into my hands.

  After I spooned the hot soup into Piers’s mouth and covered him up with my only blanket, I left him. The temptation was too great. I had myself to think of.

  I had been quickly caught. I did not even reach the outer wall that time. I was punished, of course, but the punishment was forgettable. Only guilt over leaving Piers lingered, as well as the sad knowledge I would do it again.

  Off to Fyren’s side, Piers stared at me. I smiled. He rewarded me with a quick nod. He knew me for what I was. I was a friend, but for myself first. I guessed he was the same.

  Out of the pocket of Fyren’s cape popped the reddest apple I had ever seen. The queen burst out of her seat in happiness. But Fyren presented the apple to me with a flourish.

  “Go ahead. Eat,” he said, his eyes pulling me in. He gave me a quick, mischievous smile.

  I felt drawn to Fyren. He was consistent in his manner, not fickle, never concerned with pleasing anyone. And he had a playful spirit, which both Piers and I enjoyed.

  The queen glared at him now. Fyren bowed slightly.

  He was the queen’s only blood relative. They detested each other.

  “What is it that you want, Fyren?” she asked, her voice quivering with anger.

  The apple was so sweet. I took small bites, trying to make it last. I had not eaten an apple since last year, when Fyren had given me one from the first harvest. The royal gardens still overflowed with pears and plums, and cauliflower and cabbage, while the rest of the fields in the kingdom slowly died. No one understood why this was so.

  This apple was also fresh. It tasted of rich soil and sweet rain. And of the delicate coos of the doves nested in the tree, and of the laughter of the workers in the grove, and of the sun shining down on all of them.

  No one would believe these things. I would not share them anyway. These were my feelings, my connection to the Earth and sky.

  I called Piers over. We munched on the apple together.

  “Lord Llewyn desires an audience with you, my queen,” Fyren said. He watched her as carefully as I watched him.

  He was a vain man, with dark wavy hair and a lovely nose. His chin was prominent and bearded. He loved his capes. I recognized the one he wore: soft black wool lined with ermine. He must be having a good day. It was his favorite.

  The queen rolled her eyes. “Not another lord. What does this one want with me?” Then she turned on Piers. “Would you stop smacking there, boy? Fyren, why do you bring the filthy thing in here?”

  I drew up, ready to defend, but Piers’s hand was on my arm. “Don’t, Shadow,” he whispered. “You’ll get slapped.”

  I bit my tongue for his sake, for Piers did not like to see me punished. But I seethed inside. I could not explain the anger that came upon me when Piers was mistreated. I just knew I felt it most keenly.

  Fyren’s mouth twitched. He glanced at me.

  “Do you not remember, Your Majesty?” he asked the queen, still looking at me. “What the lord wanted?”

  She turned on him. “Are you talking to me or my shadow?”

  I could not help but speak. “The lord’s lands are in dispute.”

  The queen’s eyes bore into mine, then widened with some malicious delight. She looked at Piers. A wave of panic rippled through me, for she knew my one weakness.

  I stepped forward. “Are you so stupid you cannot remember the concerns of your own lords?”

  Her mouth dropped open with shock. It was a bold thing to say to a queen, and made worse because it was true. Still, I was surprised at the fury distorting her face. She lunged at me and came up with her hands full of my black hair. The apple dropped and rolled.

  Piers jumped toward me. “No, no,” I told him, while trying to push her away.

  Fyren pulled her off so quickly, she didn’t get much of me. “Are you hurt?” he asked, smoothing down my hair. My scalp stung, but I had a thick mane. I could afford the loss.

  “I hate you!” she raged at me.

  I was breathing quickly, but a surge of life flowed through me. I was more than a shadow, I told her with my eyes.

  I blinked. The room was filled with the queen’s court, alerted by her screams. Ingrid and the gentle ladies rushed to her side and led her to the bed. There, they pulled my devilish hair from her white, angelic hands. The queen’s guard hustled the tutor out.

  Piers picked up the apple, wiping it on his shirt. He held it out to me.

  “Thank you, Piers,” I said, still breathing hard. “But it is yours.”

  The regent smiled at me. “You remember Lord Llewyn, Shadow?”

  I nodded. “He’s a large man.” I raised my hands, flattening out my fingers. “With hands like paws.”

  He gave me a long look. “You are the doe I saw at dawn yesterday. Her eyes were wide and watching.” Glancing at the queen being comforted by her ladies, he whispered, “She could take a lesson from you.”

  He pulled his cape around him in a grand gesture, leaving the room, with Piers trailing behind him.

  Once the door closed, Queen Audrey flew at me. Her ladies tried to pull her back, but her rage was too great. I had never seen her like this.

  I lifted my hands to protect myself from her claws ready to scratch. But she kept coming. I grabbed her wrists and held on tight, her nails hovering. I looked her in the eyes, and I swear I saw madness there. The ladies were all around us, slapping at my hand
s. I held on and squeezed her wrists.

  “You’re hurting me!” she screamed. The guard rushed in and wrapped his arms around my waist. As he pulled me away, the queen’s nails tore down my cheek. My hand went to the sting.

  Ingrid started toward me. “How dare you provoke the queen!” Her hand went up, but I slapped it back.

  “Perhaps she should be taught a lesson this time, Your Majesty,” said Fay, standing off to the side.

  The queen whipped around to her. “What?”

  “Imprison her,” Fay said, looking at me. “She’s attacked her queen.” I could see something in her eyes. Was it jealousy? How could that be? Why would she be jealous of me?

  “Yes!” yelled the queen. “Guard, put her in a cell in my dungeon.”

  The guard shook his head at her. I wrenched myself from his grip.

  “Now!” yelled the queen. “Take her now!”

  The guard looked from her to me to her. I knew he had orders from Eldred to always keep me with the queen. I was not worried. But to my surprise, he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the door.

  “And keep her there!” yelled the queen.

  The dungeon for me.

  Chapter Four

  The cell was small with neither bench nor pallet. I sat on the stone floor with my back against the damp wall, my fingers pressed to the scratch on my face. How it stung. The queen had dug deep.

  The air stank of sweat and fear. Moans of some unfortunate soul came from the cell next to mine. It was a woman, her cries awful to hear. Eldred was behind it, I was sure, torturing her for news of plots against the queen. Had he always been so cruel? Or did fear for his kingdom make him that way?

  I’d never been in the queen’s dungeon before. It was dark and cold, the eerie quiet broken only by an unseen drip, drip, drip. Despair lived here. It tried to seep into my skin. I fought to keep it out.

  I’d already been over every stone in the floor and in the walls, crawling on my hands and knees, scratching fingers on rough surfaces. There were no cracks, no secret doors. The only opening was a slit of a window high up the wall.

  The old advisers hadn’t rushed down to free me. Perhaps they’d found a new shadow. Larcwide, the most devious of the three, disliked me, I knew. He didn’t give me the intense stares Eldred did. But I had the feeling he resented my presence, as if my being alive took something from him.

  It made no sense to me, so I did not dwell on it.

  I rubbed my arms, trying to get warm. I trembled either from the cold, or something else. I was glad no one was here to see my fear. I couldn’t bear it if the queen did, if anyone did. The only way I coped with this life was with a sealed heart. I would not let their scorn inside of me. Indeed, I would keep even my own emotions from brooding there. It was the only way to survive.

  The prisoner moaned again. At that dismal sound, I felt a sharp pang in my chest, as if her pain had lodged in me as well. I doubted she would make it through the night. I touched the thick wall separating us. “Hold on,” I whispered. “You must not die.”

  I wondered what she had done to be put in this dismal place. The dungeon was rarely used; thieves were banished from the kingdom, murderers executed. It is true traitors were imprisoned here. Perhaps my companion was an assassin sent to murder the queen before the coronation. More likely she was an innocent accused of something she did not do.

  Whoever she was, she was now quiet. I felt her in the emptiness.

  And that emptiness deepened, extending out from her to me, flooding my soul with such despair. An odd sensation came over me, as if my very breath was being stolen. And I had the strange feeling she was in that breath, and her spirit was leaving her body, just as my breath was leaving mine.

  I pulled air into my lungs, shaking out the demons in my head. I must have been too long in this place. Its shadows were filling my mind, as dark visions filled the queen’s.

  I longed for things green and fresh. Nature had always fed my soul, given me comfort. At least when I was locked up in the queen’s room, I could look out her window.

  I closed my eyes and imagined myself in the royal orchard. I could almost feel the peace of its shaded nooks, but it was just out of my reach. The desire for it was so intense, so strong…I only felt frustration.

  My eyes flew open when I heard his voice. “Is that you, Shadow?”

  I knew it was him before I saw his face. Sir Kenway looked in through the barred opening of the door, illuminated by the flickering light of a torch. My heart sped. I could pretend it was because I might be rescued or that I had someone to talk to in this lonely place, but it was not that.

  Sir Kenway had come to see me.

  “You’re here to rescue me?” I asked, glad for the darkness that hid the delight that was surely on my face.

  He said nothing for a moment. “You are imprisoned by the queen’s command.”

  “Because I am such a threat?” I asked, standing.

  “Her Majesty’s life is in danger,” said Sir Kenway. “Any attacks need to be handled quickly and forcefully.”

  “You believe I was trying to murder her? That I’m an assassin?” I was beside him now, the door still between us. “I make a very poor one.” I stared through the bars at him.

  He looked nervous. Could it be because I was so near? What a thing to hope.

  He glanced down the torch-lit hallway and back at me. “The threat against the queen is serious. Deor is in a fragile state, vulnerable to attack from our enemies to the west.”

  “And our friends to the south,” I said, knowing allies sometimes became enemies if the reward was high. “So you think I am in league with foreigners?”

  “You dislike the queen,” he said.

  Yet, in that moment, when he stated it, I didn’t believe it was true. It should have been true, after all she had done.

  He leaned forward, looking into my eyes. I could feel his warm breath on my cold face. I tried not to shiver. I wouldn’t let him see how he affected me.

  “I cannot figure you out, Shadow,” he said. “Are you loyal?”

  “Your queen attacked me.”

  He looked skeptical. Was he really so innocent to her true nature? Did her beauty blind him? Did her power? “My queen?” he asked.

  “Yours.”

  “She is yours as well,” he said. “Have you no love for Deor and her queen? You should treat her with reverence.”

  “Because she is so far above me?”

  “She is your queen, Shadow,” he said. “And you are…”

  “Yes? I am what?”

  “Not her equal.”

  “And not yours, either?” I asked.

  He hesitated.

  I heard footsteps coming down the stairs, belonging to a different guard than the one who had locked me in this cell. I drew back a little, watching the man from the shadows. He was large, but looked to be all belly. “Please, sir,” he said to Kenway. “The queen forbade the prisoner to have any visitors. I shouldn’t have let you down here.”

  Sir Kenway nodded curtly. “I’m coming.” But he kept looking at me, and I felt my heart flutter. What did he want? Why was he really here? Perhaps he was the queen’s spy.

  The guard hadn’t moved. Sir Kenway glared at him. The guard bobbed his head and left.

  “I’ll speak on your behalf, Shadow,” said Sir Kenway. “But it is late. The queen has retired. You must resign yourself to staying in this place for now.”

  I nodded.

  He pushed a blanket through the bars. “I thought you might need this.”

  I stared at it, confused by this kindness.

  “You don’t want it?” he asked.

  I took it and wrapped it around my shoulders.

  “Good night,” he said.

  I leaned my face to the bars and watched him walk away from me. “I cannot figure you out, either,” I whispered to the dark.

  Chapter Five

  The night was cold, and the floor was hard. I pulled Sir Kenway’s blanket cl
oser around me, pushing my nose into it. It smelled of him. Was this one from his very bed? Thick blankets, red apples, smiles from Piers…these were all gifts I treasured.

  Sir Kenway’s kindness stayed with me as I dreamed.

  I woke to light streaming in from the lone window. The guard appeared at the door with one bowl. I looked at the cold mush and wondered what the queen was eating.

  Perhaps she broke fast with fresh blackberries from the bush she’d had the royal gardeners plant for me during my eighth year. It had been a delightful surprise, and I had been touched by her kindness. How her face had glowed at my happiness. She’d linked her arm through mine and told me I was like a sister to her. Hadn’t we always been together?

  Eldred had not been pleased, fussing at her for giving me special attention. I didn’t deserve such an honor, he’d said.

  The queen had always been frightened of him, and yet, she defied him to give me a gift so perfect for me. I never loved her more than I did that day.

  Must I always think of her? Here I was banished to the dungeon, far from her plush room in the tower, and yet my thoughts were on her. Whatever I had meant to her, it had long since faded in her mind. I doubted she could even remember the blackberries now.

  My stomach growled.

  I ate the mush.

  I paced the cell, walking from wall to wall. I yelled up at the guard, who ignored me. I tried to speak to the other prisoner. But she’d been quiet since last night.

  The day was long. I watched the shadows grow until I was overtaken by them. And closed my eyes. Sir Kenway had not returned.

  I awoke to creaking. It was still night.

  Fyren was there, torch in hand. The flame danced and crackled.

  “Are you well, Shadow?” he asked, shutting the door behind him.

  I sat up, very awake, and leaned against the wall.

  His footsteps were loud in the quiet. He placed the torch in a holder and stood over me.

  “Have you come to let me out, Regent?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. He was here alone, at night. Whatever he was up to, it was not something he wanted others to know about.