Shadow Cross (The Shadow Accords Book 5)

by D. K. Holmberg

  His head sagged to the side, and he stopped moving.

  Carth wanted to relax; she wanted to sink to the ground and sleep. The energy she used had nearly been overwhelming and was more than she had used at one time in quite a while. She didn’t dare relax.

  How many others were with him? He had mentioned that he studied on behalf of someone else. She needed to know who before doing whatever it was she would ultimately do with them.

  Grabbing him by one foot, she dragged him back towards the door, through it and through the collection of imprisoned women. They glanced at her but said nothing, showing no reaction. The most that anyone reacted was when she pulled open the door leading back into the healer’s shop. One of the women let out a soft sigh.

  Carth pulled the man into the shop and left the other door open.

  She leaned against the door frame, finally daring to take a breath. The man groaned, and she kicked him, knocking him out once more. He stopped moving, blood trickling down his cheeks from where she had struck him.

  She felt no remorse.

  Carth dragged him around the corner, reaching the front of the shop, where she stopped and looked up. A dazed expression came over her at what she saw.

  “Guya?”

  27

  Carth blinked, trying to clear the confusion from her mind. After using her power as much as she had, the fatigue was nearly overwhelming. She wanted to sleep, but how could she after everything she had been through?

  How was it possible that Guya stood before her?

  And how was it that he looked unharmed?

  She had seen the trail of blood. They had followed it.

  The small healer she had seen when she’d first brought Dara to the shop sat in a chair. She had her hands folded in her lap, and she wore a tight smile on her face. Her eyes fixed on Carth, unblinking.

  “Interesting. Moon dust usually sedates everyone.”

  “I told you she would be difficult to suppress,” Guya said.

  Carth looked from Guya to the small woman, looking for Timothy. Where had the mercenary gone?

  Her gaze fell upon the crumpled form of a body in the corner. She noted his sword lying just out of reach. There were no others in the room.

  Had there been others when Timothy had come in here?

  She thought there had been, but then again, she’d thought they wouldn’t face anything more difficult than a small healer.

  “Why are you doing this, Guya?” Carth asked.

  Guya looked at her but didn’t speak.

  The healer stood, leaning on her chair for support. “When he said you were strong, I didn’t think it possible that you were quite this strong. You escaped when you should not have been able to. And managed to convince that one”—she motioned to Timothy where he lay on the ground—“to join your cause. An interesting thing you managed to do.”

  Carth started backing towards the door, but she felt movement behind her. She didn’t dare turn around. If she did, what would she find?

  She reached for her connection to the shadows, pulling on that as well as on her connection to the flame. She used those connections to help her understand how many were behind her. She counted three, primarily through the way they pressed upon her weakened connection to the flame. Movement against the shadows told her there was probably another one. Why wasn’t she able to detect them with the flame?

  Questions for later.

  She wouldn’t be escaping through the back door.

  Chathem began moaning. She kicked at him again, not wanting him to waken. After what she’d gone through stopping him the first time, she didn’t dare risk it a second.

  “Why did you return here?” the woman asked.

  Guya answered for her. “She came for her friend.”

  Carth glared at him. After everything she had been through with him? She had thought Guya a friend. “I would’ve come for you as well.”

  Guya shook his head. “You care for the women. I’ve seen how you treat the others. You are predictable, Carth.”

  “Predictable? Because I wanted to see the Hjan defeated?”

  There was a flicker of movement on the woman’s face. She recognized the name. She had a connection to the Hjan as well. Was that part of the reason they had betrayed her?

  “Why did you come to the north? I thought you weren’t a slaver.”

  Guya’s face clouded. “I’m not a slaver.”

  “You should look back in the back room, then. Seems like there’s nearly two dozen women, some barely more than children. I’ve seen the way they use those women.”

  Guya shook his head. “Hoga only seeks those with power.”

  Carth laughed darkly. At least she had a name for this woman. It was an awful thing that they should be betrayed by another woman, and it felt like a larger betrayal than anything else. So often it had been men who had betrayed her. So often it had been men she’d been fighting.

  First Felyn, then the attacks within Nyaesh, and even the blood priests. All of them had been men. All of them wanting to torment women.

  This Hoga had strength. She must, if she was able to suppress Carth’s magic with her concoction of powders, but she should use it to prevent others from suffering. And yet she did not. She did nothing more than allow other women to suffer.

  “How could you?” she asked the woman.

  Hoga studied her but said nothing.

  “If you’re so concerned about slavers, why are you with her?” Carth asked Guya.

  Hoga frowned. “What choice do you think he has? Do you think all of this simply a game for him?”

  A game was an interesting choice of words. Guya knew that she played Tsatsun, and she knew he had some skill, but he was not at the same level as her.

  Carth shook away the thoughts and glared at Hoga and Guya. “Tell me where to find Dara, and I might not destroy you completely.”

  Hoga leaned forward. “Is that what you think this is? Do you believe this to be a negotiation?” She waved her hand around her. “Look at the others here with us. Do you think they will simply let you depart?”

  Carth kept her eyes fixed on Guya. “I don’t need the others. All I need is Guya. The rest of you will die.”

  Carth exploded out with the remaining power she had contained.

  At the same time, Hoga brought her hands over her head and swirled them around her. Pale white dust drifted into the air.

  Moon dust.

  Carth couldn’t let it affect her. If she got too close, she ran the risk of losing the ability to use her magic. She had little doubt that Hoga would be more skilled than the other man had been.

  But she would use her power differently.

  She wrapped the shadows around her, creating a fog.

  It came on so thick—so dense—there was no way the others would be able to see through it. She added a hint of the flame, surging enough that it would burn off the moon dust, praying that what had worked last time would work again.

  She lunged forward, knowing through the shadows and the connection to the flame where to find the others in the room. If she was right, she would be the only one able to detect them.

  She caught the men behind her first.

  She struck with her knife, slashing, catching one in the stomach and the next two in the chest. Each grunted and then fell, dropping before her.

  She spun, turning towards where she detected Guya.

  She kicked, catching him on the side of the head, and he made a soft noise as she struck him. She fought through the memory of what they’d been through, how he had been her friend and had worked with her, helping—or so she’d thought.

  He had betrayed her. And if he had, it was Guya’s fault that Dara had been sick. It would be Guya’s fault that Dara had been abducted—that Carth had been abducted.

  Guya fell.

  She kicked again, driving shadows through her leg, granting them strength, and he stopped moving.

  Then she turned her attention to the woman.


  Where was she? Through the shadows and with her flame, she couldn’t detect her.

  Had she disappeared? Carth had started towards the others first, and maybe she should have focused on Hoga.

  She lowered the shadows.

  Looking around, Carth surveyed the inside of the shop and found it empty other than those who had been here before.

  She cursed softly to herself. She had lost Hoga.

  She looked down to Guya and then back to the other man she’d captured. She might’ve lost Hoga, but she might have a way to find her again.

  Carth steadied her breathing, slowing her mind as she had long ago learned to do when playing the game Tsatsun. This game would be important, not only for her but for those she cared about.

  If she failed, her friends would suffer.

  If she failed, it was possible that Dara might die.

  A plan began to come into focus. Not only a plan, but a sequence of moves, one that, if she played it right, would force Hoga to play the game Carth wanted her to play. It would have to work.

  For her to recover her friends, it would have to work.

  28

  Carth knelt in front of Guya on the Goth Spald, waiting for him to awaken. She had him strapped to the mast, his arms bound behind him, legs tied together with thick bands of rope. She had the other man she’d faced tied to the railing. Timothy stood over him, his sword unsheathed and his body tensed, as if he were ready to strike.

  A deep bruise had formed underneath his eye, and a gash on his cheek had been hastily stitched closed with a length of thread that Carth had found in the healer’s shop.

  Guya groaned and rolled over, glancing first at her and then over to Timothy. A hint of a smile played at his lips. “Good. I’m glad you managed to get me away from her. Did you release the others?”

  “They’re free. And safe from you,” Carth answered.

  “Then we can get on to finding Lindy and—”

  Carth kicked him in the side.

  Guya doubled over, grunting. The ropes holding him to the mast restricted how far he could bend when she kicked him. She was no longer willing to listen to him and his excuses.

  “Where are they?”

  Guya shook his head. “I’m not with her. Like I said, release me and I can help you search for Dara.”

  Carth had been struggling with what had happened to Dara. When she’d gotten sick on the ship, there had been nothing Carth could do for her. Guya had feigned ignorance, when he was the reason that Dara had grown sick.

  Seeing Guya with Hoga had answered how. She still didn’t understand the why, but at least now she understood who had poisoned Dara.

  “I’m only going to ask you one more time.” She unsheathed her knives and began pulling on her powers. As tired as she was, she wasn’t sure how much strength she would be able to generate, but she was willing to use all she had left if it meant helping her friends.

  She placed the knife against the bare flesh of his forearm. She made a slight cut, barely enough to draw a bead of blood that pooled on the surface of his skin, and pressed out slightly with the shadows.

  “Where. Are. They?”

  Guya’s eyes remained fixed on the knife. He had seen her use it brutally before, so she didn’t need to threaten him with what she was capable of doing with it. The threat came from what else might happen were she to unleash the shadows. She didn’t think he had any abilities, not like the Hjan, and not like the blood priest, but the shadows would still consume him.

  The friendliness to his face faded, replaced by a hard mask. She hadn’t seen that expression before.

  Or had she?

  When she had first seen Guya, he’d been in the tavern and had drugged Talun. Hadn’t she seen him dose others before?

  How had she been so foolish? She had trusted Guya because he had sailed with her, because he had been willing to work with her, but what if it had all been an act?

  She had thought herself skilled at reading others, but here was a man who had somehow managed to betray her for a long time.

  “She knows about the Goth Spald. They will come for me.”

  Carth took her knife and jabbed into his shoulder. She ignored his cry of pain as she sent a surge of flame through it. Withdrawing her knife, she wiped it on his sleeve before standing and sheathing at.

  “We need answers, you can’t kill him,” Timothy said.

  Carth shook her head. “I don’t intend to kill him. I also don’t want him to pose a risk for us if they do happen to attack.”

  Timothy motioned towards the other bound man with his sword. “What about this one? Why is he with them?”

  “Who is that?” Carth asked Guya.

  Guya’s gaze drifted towards Chathem, and he shrugged. “Just another hired hand.”

  Carth knew that wasn’t the truth. The man had been not only skilled but also knowledgeable. This wasn’t a man who had simply been hired for a job. He wasn’t a mercenary like Timothy, skilled with the sword but unlikely to be plugged in deeper. This man was a part of whatever Guya had been a part of.

  “Try again.”

  Guya looked up at her, his eyes narrowing, his brow furrowing as anger surged from him. “This has nothing to do with you. All they needed was power. I wasn’t going to involve you.” His eyes narrowed, and either sadness or anger surged within them. “You could’ve been free. I’ve seen the way you fight, what you’ve done. I wasn’t willing to put you at risk, and I tried to keep you from this. But you had to press.”

  “You tried to keep me from this? You drugged Dara, making her sick so that we needed the help of a healer who would then capture her? That’s not the sign of anyone who was trying to keep me out of it. You know I would do anything for my friends.”

  “No. I’ve seen you do anything for Ih-lash. I’ve seen you do anything for the A’ras. You don’t have any friends, Carth.”

  Carth clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to strike him. It would accomplish nothing, and would probably not even make her feel better. She was angry enough at the fact that she hadn’t caught on to Guya and his betrayal. She wouldn’t let him goad her into something else.

  “What is Dara to you?” Carth asked him. “Why capture her? Why not Lindy first?”

  “Lindy is…” He shook his head, and for a moment Carth wondered if he would answer.

  Then Guya took a deep breath, forced a dark smile and jerked on the ropes holding his wrists behind him bound to the mast. When he didn’t get himself free, he relaxed.

  He attempted to look casual, in spite of his bindings. “Lindy is not nearly as valuable as Dara. Dara has a different kind of skill.”

  “It wasn’t her skills you were looking for. You intended to use her for whatever sort of slavery these men intended. You were going to force her into service as”—Carth almost couldn’t bring herself to say it, but she owed it to Dara to do so—“a prostitute. That’s what you wanted her for.”

  Guya granted and shook his head. “If you know anything about me, you would know that is not what I’m interested in.”

  “What, then? You think I should believe that you had some other benevolent purpose for Dara? After poisoning her in such a way that she was so sick that we had to bring her to your ‘healer’?”

  “I did what I had to in order to find answers. You aren’t the only one who wants to stop the Hjan.”

  Carth paced around the mast, keeping Guya in her sight. She had a pair of knives unsheathed as she paced, thinking about what she would do with him. She could leave him bound, or better yet, leave him crippled and toss him into the sea. It was fitting for a sailor like him, someone who believed in the justice of the sea.

  But a part of her questioned. Guya hadn’t always been deceptive, had he? Was it possible that he was only interested in stopping the Hjan?

  She thought of the powders and medicines Hoga had possessed. Something like those would be valuable when faced with the Hjan. The Hjan had abilities that gave them great power, and they were
in a land now where the Hjan were more prevalent. This was a place where they would be more likely to attack.

  “Who is she?” Carth asked as she made her circle around the mast. She stopped in front of Guya and knelt down so that she got close enough to meet his eyes. “Who is she to you?”

  Guya met her gaze and said nothing.

  “What did they do to you?”

  Guya took a small breath, glaring at her. “The north has only begun to understand what the Hjan will do. They have only begun to understand how dangerous they are. Here in Asador, we know. We have lived under the threat of the Hjan for far too long. Long enough to know—”

  Carth stood. The sound of boots on the dock caught her attention.

  She kicked Guya in the temple, knocking him out once more, and raced over to Timothy.

  He stood at the railing, peering down into the darkness, eyes searching along the dock.

  “What did you hear?” he asked.

  “Footsteps,” she whispered.

  As she pulled on the shadows, dispelling the darkness, she detected nearly a dozen people along the dock. She swore softly under her breath.

  Timothy glanced over at her. “How many?”

  “A dozen.”

  If they were a dozen like Hoga, or even a dozen like the man tied to the railing, that might be more than she could stop, even using her powers; their ability to counter her made them dangerous.

  She still hadn’t gotten answers from Guya. And maybe given what he had done to her, the way he had betrayed her, he wouldn’t give her answers.

  Staying here put them at risk.

  She sliced through the ropes binding Chathem to the railing. Using the shadows, she lifted him to her shoulder and stepped across the ship to the other side. Searching the dock there, she saw no sign of anyone else.

  “Where you going?”

  “Somewhere else. I need answers.”

  Timothy nodded. “I’m coming with you.”

  Carth smiled grimly, and when Chathem started moaning, she struck him in the back of the head with her knife, knocking him out once more. He stopped moving, and she jumped, disappearing into the darkness below.