Shadow Cross (The Shadow Accords Book 5)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “I need to get back to the wagons and lead them away from Praxis so that they don’t realize what we were doing. That’s the other part of what I planned. I want to use them—”

  “About that…”

  “What you mean?”

  “Well, there is a price to letting the women remain within the village. There was a cost to providing supplies and safety and food and shelter.”

  It was more than all of that. Praxis offered hope. “You gave them the wagons?”

  “Not the wagons. They have no interest in that. But the horses…”

  “What of the wagons, then?” Carth asked. She had stopped at the door leading out from the small room. Light leaked in around the edge of the door, enough that it was well into the daytime. How long had she been sleeping?

  Long enough for her to feel refreshed. Long enough for her no longer to feel as if she were about to fall over. She considered questioning the women, searching for answers about where Dara might have gone, but none of them would’ve known. They feared for their safety and would have been trapped in the wagons. They wouldn’t have known anything about what had happened to the women taken from the wagons in the middle of the night.

  Had Dara ever been one of the women in the wagons? Carth hadn’t seen her when she was captured, only knowing what the flat-eyed man had said. He had suggested that Dara had been captured, but then had also suggested that she had been taken to another man—Terran.

  It all came back to the same answer. She needed to discover what they intended, and find the slavers.

  “The wagons were sent over the cliff edge, and they crashed into the sea.” Timothy wore a look of grim satisfaction as he shared that with her. “In time, the froth in the sea will grind the remains of the wagons into little more than debris.”

  Carth allowed herself to smile at the thought. That would be a fitting outcome for the wagons. “Good.”

  She pulled open the door and stepped into the village. She was in a small house at the edge of the village. Several men led horses through it. They talked animatedly to each other, occasionally slapping the side of the horse to guide it. Others carried baskets, or barrels, all moving with a sort of determination and purpose.

  When this was over, when she had determined more about the man who thought to harm women like this, she would return. There was something she could offer, but not yet. And perhaps not all of these women would be willing to help. She would offer it to those who were.

  She headed out of the village. Timothy followed, saying nothing. Carth checked to ensure her knives were still with her, though she should’ve done that before even leaving the small room, and was not surprised to find that they still were strapped to her side.

  Timothy noted the gesture. “I’ve seen weapons like that before.”

  There was a hint of something more in the comment, though she couldn’t tell if it was accusation or something else.

  Carth tapped the knife she’d claimed after her mother had died, the one that she had for so long thought was an A’ras blade; now she understood it was a blade from Ih-lash, possibly even one her father had made. “This one is for the shadows.” She tapped the other knife, the one she had helped to craft that gave her a greater connection to her S’al magic. “And this one is for the flame.”

  Timothy only nodded.

  After they had walked for a while, Timothy spoke up. “Do you intend to share your plan with me?”

  Carth shrugged. “I intend to follow them. I’m going to find their network.”

  Timothy chuckled. “Their network? Do you think to rescue all the women they capture?”

  Carth looked over at him, a hard expression in her eyes. Timothy met it, not shrinking away. “I intend to find their network and destroy it.”

  23

  Carth reached the trail of the slavers late that night.

  They traveled by foot, making their way off the road, weaving through long grasses. Timothy found the path; he had a knack for following trails and noting where others might be, with his special ability with tracking.

  The trail led through the grasses, and they moved slowly, pausing every so often as they did, investigating places where it seemed as if they had branched off and taken a different pathway. For the most part, the slavers seemed to travel across the ground.

  “How many do you think there are?” Carth asked Timothy after they had trailed them for nearly an hour.

  “This is only about a half dozen.”

  Carth turned back and looked at him sharply. “What of the rest? What happened to all the soldiers we sedated?”

  “I don’t see evidence of the soldiers. There are few men moving through here, and they seem to have a destination in mind. Otherwise they wouldn’t move across ground like this. Besides, I suspected you wanted to follow these men rather than the dozen soldiers that traveled along the road.”

  “Are they traveling to Praxis?”

  Timothy shook his head. “Not to Praxis. I made certain there would be no way to follow that path.”

  “How did you manage that?”

  “Is that something you really think you need to know?”

  Carth considered pressing him. It would be helpful to know what he had done, just as it would be helpful to know whether she really could trust him. He was a mercenary. He made no qualms about that fact, just as he had made it clear that he still had a job to complete. Would that job would put them into opposition before this was over, or would helping her ultimately help him?

  For now, she decided it didn’t matter.

  “You left the soldiers traveling on the road?”

  “You were the one who didn’t feel they needed to be removed from the game.”

  From the game? That seemed a comment she would’ve made. She began watching Timothy with a different interest, worried that perhaps she had misread his moves.

  She thought back to what he had done in the time since she’d met him. He’d only helped her once she had followed him into the woods, but had he intended for her to follow him?

  It was possible that he had.

  They continued following the trail through the grasses. As they went, it became even clearer that they followed the right path. She saw evidence of several individual footprints, though she wasn’t quite sure whether these were soldiers or the slavers she’d dosed in the wagon.

  At one point, Timothy paused near a small pond. Carth closed her eyes and let herself use the combination of the shadows and the flame, searching for any sort of connection she might be able to detect, and noted the very clear and distinct sense of several individuals who had passed through here.

  What was more, she had a sense of something else.

  Was it magical ability? She had thought that the powder she’d used on them would’ve suppressed anything they could have done, but it was possible that the powder hadn’t been effective. It was also possible that Timothy had not been completely honest with her about the effects of the powder. It certainly seemed to sedate the men, but what if he had misled her about what else it could do?

  “You’re looking at me strangely,” Timothy said.

  Carth only shrugged. “I think I have to consider all possibilities.”

  Timothy chuckled. “You wouldn’t be worth what price they put on you if you didn’t.”

  “What price is that?”

  Timothy nodded to the water, pausing there before continuing. “What do you see there?” he asked, pointing to two indentations near the shore of the pond.

  Carth suppressed an amused smile. He was avoiding answering, and what was more, he seemed to want her to know that he avoided answering.

  What game did he play at?

  It was possible that he knew how to play the game Tsatsun much like she did, but she got the sense that he was playing a different game. It was one she needed to understand so that she could know her role in the game, but perhaps it was one that she could position within the game she had to play.

  “I see noth
ing.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps it’s nothing.”

  They continued away from the pond, weaving through the grasses. Day turned into night, and shadows stretched across the land, growing thicker. Carth didn’t even need to pull on them to fully sink into them. They were there, and she felt them, but she didn’t draw upon their strength.

  There was no need. She remained connected to them, holding on to that connection, not wanting to lose it, but more than that, she wanted to have the strength of the shadows if she needed it. Along with it, she held a trickle of the flame. She had grown more skilled at maintaining this connection, something that once would have been incredibly difficult for her.

  Now she was able to hold on to it and preserve that connection, use it so that she wouldn’t be surprised and have to reach for it suddenly. Perhaps that was why she had grown weakened so quickly when rescuing the women from the wagons. Holding on to the flame, much more so than using the shadows, taxed her strength.

  They passed through the grassy plains and onto an open field near midnight. The moon hung high overhead, thick and full, glowing with a soft yellowish light that sent silver streaks across the land. The occasional howl of a wolf seemed to startle Timothy, but it never startled Carth.

  As she moved through the plains, heading towards a dark smear of forest, she detected the presence of shadows upon her. It was a steady sense, one that seem to push against her shadows, one that alerted her to others.

  She paused, surveying the forest in the distance.

  “Yes, that is the same forest,” Timothy said.

  Why would the slavers have headed for the same forest she had escaped from?

  What had she missed?

  “Tell me what I’m missing, Timothy. Who is Chathem?”

  The amused smile spread across his face. “Now she begins to ask the right questions.”

  24

  They had nearly moved through the forest by the time Carth caught sight of the slavers. They were camped, a small fire set up in the middle of a clearing crackling softly against the night. A thin trail of smoke filtered up to the treetops. One man stood watch, looking out over the rest of them.

  Carth saw no sign of Chathem or the large man. It was too coincidental for the slavers to be here, and she knew that he must be here as well.

  Timothy hadn’t known much more than Carth did about Chathem. He knew that he was skilled and recognized that he must have some other abilities, but he hadn’t learned anything more than that.

  Carth questioned whether Timothy had been hired to come after the scholar, but the sellsword was noncommittal about that. That didn’t trouble her nearly so much as trying to understand what else she might’ve missed.

  She’d thought she had been observant. What if she had missed her opportunity to eliminate one of the bigger threats? Chathem could ignore her abilities, and the large man had seemed immune to her powers. There had to be something about them that she could learn.

  Timothy remained hidden, keeping away from her as they scouted so that more than one of them might be able to react if someone crept upon them.

  Carth sat and watched.

  There was nothing else she could do, nothing else that she really needed to do. This was the reason she’d allowed the slavers to live. She needed information and wanted to know what they intended and where they would go.

  She sat motionless, shrouded by shadows. At least she couldn’t be detected this way.

  Night passed slowly, giving her time to consider what else she needed to do.

  Once she discovered the leader of the slavers—a man whose name she had heard but whom she had never met—she needed to find what they might have done with Dara. She had no doubt they were connected, but why had they claimed her?

  And was there any connection to Guya? Had they harmed him to get to Dara or to Carth?

  Dara would have been poisoned at some point, but Carth still didn’t understand how or why her friend had been chosen. What was it about her friend that made them want her? Dara had Lashasn ability, much like Carth did, but it didn’t seem to her like that ability had been targeted. More than that, her ability should’ve protected Dara.

  Maybe they hadn’t recognized Dara’s flame ability. If that was the case, then there was another reason, something she didn’t understand.

  Or it could simply be the fact that Dara was a beautiful woman. If that was what the slavers were after, she understood why they would target Dara.

  Carth hated the fact that she had been unable to protect her friend, and that she had failed her. With all her abilities, with all her power, she hadn’t been able to protect her friend. For that matter, Carth had barely been able to protect herself.

  As the night passed and slowly turned into day, Carth remained motionless, holding on to the shadows and drawing strength from them, using that to help her stay alert. There was no movement, nothing other than the changing of the sentry.

  As daylight bloomed in the sky overhead, the flat-eyed man awoke and turned his attention to the others.

  Carth clenched her shadow knife. Anger seethed through her at seeing him awake. She should have killed him. He had a slight lethargy to him that he hadn’t had before, and she wondered if perhaps she had overlooked some magical ability that he possessed.

  It was possible that he was powered in some way. Had that been how he had captured her? She had been poisoned, but there was such an easy way about how he had managed to do it that she believed that maybe there was something more, something she hadn’t fully understood.

  “When do you expect them?”

  This came from the man who had been sentry when they had first appeared in the forest. He had slept, snoring softly as he did, until morning, when they all had awoken.

  “We were told to return here if there were any issues. If they’re not here, we just have to keep moving and reach the city.”

  Carth sat back.

  They intended to travel onward to a city. What were the odds that they might go to Asador? Could she follow them all the way there?

  The men broke camp and started off through the forest. Timothy watched from the opposite side of the clearing. He seemed to see through her concealment, as if he could park the shadows.

  What ability did he possess? Tracking—that much she knew—but it was more than that.

  She nodded to him and they started off, following the flat-eyed man and the slavers away from the trees.

  By evening, Carth knew that they were making their way towards Asador. The city spread with bright lights on the horizon, and she smelled the salt in the air once more. It was a welcoming odor, one that could bring her to safety. All she had to do was return to the ship, if the Goth Spald remained in port.

  But did it? After all the time she’d been away, what if someone else had taken possession of the ship? Lindy might’ve remained in the city, but Guya had gone missing at the same time as Dara.

  “You’ve been quiet.”

  Carth glanced over to Timothy. “There isn’t anything to say. They return to Asador. You know this is where I came from?”

  “I think you came from somewhere else. Asador might’ve been where you were captured, and where they brought you away from, but your origin… that is something else.”

  Carth smiled. She had thought the scholar the observant one, but Timothy had proven equally observant.

  “From somewhere else. But now I think I will stay here.”

  Timothy’s brow furrowed as he stared at her. “These lands are unfamiliar to you. What would make you want to remain here?”

  For Carth, it was about more than simply what she’d seen taking place in these lands. There was danger here. The women were treated poorly, and the others she had seen in the city had been frightened.

  And then there was the underlying concern she had for the Hjan. These lands were home to them, and more than anything else, she needed to keep an eye on them. Wasn’t that the reason she had come across the sea in the first place?r />
  There was still something about the Hjan that she didn’t fully understand. When she did, she would have to decide whether she helped maintain the peace, continuing with the Accords that she had agreed to, or whether she would push against them and destroy the Hjan.

  Carth didn’t answer, and they continued trailing after the soldiers, following them into the city as the men tried to blend into the crowds, moving quietly through the throng of people. Carth noted children scurrying through the streets, hands occasionally drifting into pockets, collecting scraps as she had once done. Once again, she smiled as she saw this. Children like that could move unnoticed. Much in the same way that the women in the taverns had gone unnoticed until the slavers grabbed them.

  “Why are you grinning?” Timothy asked as they continued weaving through the streets.

  As the slavers slowed, Carth caught sight of a yellow door. She had seen it before.

  It couldn’t be coincidental that these men would travel to the same yellow door. It had been where she had brought Dara.

  “Only an idea,” Carth said. It was one that would take some time to develop, but the more she thought about it, the more she began to wonder if it had merit.

  First, she needed to complete this task. She would finish dealing with these slavers; only then would she be able to begin dealing with other issues.

  Carth lingered, watching the men as they reached the yellow door. One by one, they entered.

  “What is it?”

  Carth shook her head. Why this healer? Had Guya known?

  He wouldn’t have betrayed them this way. Guya was their friend. They had been through so much together that she knew better than to think that Guya would betray them.

  More than that, Guya had hated the idea of women taken by slavers. She had seen that from the very beginning. That was how she had known she could trust him.

  No… she needed to shake those thoughts from her mind. She tried arranging the pieces that she recognized in her mind, but couldn’t come up with an answer. All moves she did come up with were troubling.