Light and Darkness: The Complete Series: Epic Fantasy Romance

by Jayne Castel

  Lilia worked tirelessly, shifting the stakes as Ryana instructed to create a tight perimeter around the tent and the makeshift railing where they’d tied up their horses. Finishing their task, the women then set about lighting the torches. They went up with a ‘whoosh’ and firelight illuminated the clearing, chasing away the shadows.

  Lilia surveyed their perimeter. “Will the torches be enough?”

  Ryana met her eye. “It’s the best we can do.”

  By the time the light faded, all four of them were safely inside the tent, seated around the hearth. They had no meat to roast over the embers tonight, for there had been no time to hunt during the day. Still, the heat warmed their aching limbs and would hopefully keep the servants of the shadows beyond those hide walls at bay overnight.

  They had brought in a stack of wood for the fire that would last till dawn.

  Lilia passed around stale bread rolls and some salted pork, and they all ate in silence, too exhausted to bother with conversation. Saul took the first watch, while his companions lay out their cloaks and bedded down around the hearth. They would all take turns at watch tonight.

  Although she had barely slept the night before, Lilia lay awake for a while, staring up at the stained hide wall of the tent above her, and watching the way the flickering flames of the fire cast dancing shadows across it. Beyond the tent, she heard one of the horses snort and shift position, its hoof snapping a twig.

  Lilia inhaled deeply, willing herself to relax. Outside, the darkness would be coming to life. She just hoped their barricade of flaming torches would be enough to keep them safe.

  She hadn’t expected to be able to sleep—not with danger breathing down her neck—but exhaustion eventually pulled Lilia into its clutches, and she fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

  Until she awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of the horses squealing.

  20

  Flight in the Dark

  Disoriented, Lilia sat up, jolted out of a heavy, exhausted sleep.

  Torn awake two nights in a row. Her heart would give out if she continued to be woken like this.

  However, the sight of her companions’ alarmed faces made her freeze.

  “They’ve broken through the perimeter,” Ryana hissed, lighting a branch from the fire. “Grab what you can … we’re going to have to run.”

  Lilia did as she was told, shucking on her cloak and shouldering her pack.

  The horses squealed once more—the fear in that sound causing Lilia’s blood to chill. Grunts followed the squeals, then the thunder of hoof-beats.

  The intruders were coming for them.

  “We’re trapped in here,” Saul growled, drawing two knives in one smooth movement. “It’ll be too easy for them.”

  “Only if we let it.” Dain crouched next to Lilia, cloak and pack on, axe at the ready.

  Saul’s gaze gleamed, and he nodded.

  Dain glanced at Lilia. “Draw your knife … and remember what I said, hold it low and only strike when your attacker is close.”

  Clumsily, Lilia obeyed. She remembered his instructions and was grateful for them. However, she was shaking so much right now she doubted she’d be able to use the knife.

  A heartbeat later she spied dark shapes looming beyond the walls of the tent.

  Terror caused her breathing to choke. Heat pulsed through her.

  The obscene sound of ripping hide cut through the night.

  Saul had sliced open the side of their shelter. The hole gaped wide. Damp, cold air rushed in, causing the fire behind them to gutter.

  Ryana thrust her flaming torch forward and leaped out into the darkness. Saul followed at her heels. Lilia felt Dain’s hand fasten around hers, before he towed her out after him.

  They had barely taken a step outside when Lilia saw what hunted them.

  Thick woodland pressed in, the trees dark shapes against the deeper black of night. The horses were gone, and the flaming torches had been knocked to the ground.

  Three slender figures clad in mist crept toward the ruined tent.

  The Hiriel—for Lilia had heard enough folktales about them to know what they were—glowed like starlight in the darkness.

  Lilia stared, momentarily stunned.

  The Hiriel were otherworldly. Willowy with elongated hands and feet, they moved with lithe grace. Although bipedal, the sprites crept forward using their hands to guide them. Their forms appeared to be made of milk, bleeding into the air around them as if it was water, curling and drifting behind them like ghostly veils. Atop their heads, each Hiriel bore a pair of slender antlers. Their eyes were twin pinpricks of white light on blank, featureless faces.

  Lilia’s limbs trembled, and then a familiar prickling sensation danced across her skin.

  Shadows, no.

  Saul and Ryana stepped up, providing a barrier between the Hiriel and Lilia. With a start, she realized they were protecting her, as they’d promised.

  “Stay back!” Ryana’s voice cut through the night. She thrust out her guttering torch toward them.

  The Hiriel ignored her command, silently stealing closer. All the while the milky substance that bled from their bodies snapped and billowed around them.

  The odor of hot iron—unnatural in the midst of woodland—wafted toward Lilia.

  Hissing a curse, Ryana threw aside the flaming torch. Lilia caught a flash of pale flesh as the enchanter swept her hand wide about her, gathering the Dark.

  The Hiriel saw her action and drew themselves up tall. Then they charged toward her—their long arms stretched out and elongated fingers curved in claws.

  A tide of writhing blackness—Ryana’s allies—collided with the Hiriel.

  Chilling wails, the rage of beings not used to being challenged, rent the misty air. Ryana’s attack had been successful this time.

  “Run!” Ryana ordered. “Up the hill. Now!”

  Dain hesitated. “What about you?”

  “I’ll be right behind you. Run!”

  All three of them obeyed her.

  They turned and sprinted across the clearing, diving through the outer perimeter of torches and into the cloak of darkness beyond. Lilia clung to Dain’s hand—and all the while heat pulsed through her limbs and her skin crawled.

  The change had begun, she’d not be able to resist it for much longer.

  Her breath rasped in her throat, her heart pounded in her ears, but she kept running. She and Dain fled as if the Shadow King himself pursued them, just two paces behind Saul who led them up the thickly wooded hillside.

  Lilia heard cracking branches and the sound of running feet behind her. True to her word, Ryana was following.

  Branches snagged at them, raking against their exposed faces and clawing at their cloaks and packs, intent on slowing their pace up the hill. The way grew stepper, studded with rocks that jutted out of the damp soil and slammed into their toes and shins.

  Panic made Lilia oblivious to the pain. Her skin suddenly felt too tight, she could feel the bones in her face shifting.

  Around her, the darkness pressed close, the low cloud blocking out the moon and the stars. They fled, blind in the dark, working their way by feel up the steepening slope.

  They reached the top of the hill, and the trees drew back. A dank breeze feathered their faces as they stumbled around. The dark shapes of boulders, deeper black than the surrounding night, loomed through the murk.

  Standing before one at the crest of the hill, they turned to see Ryana sprint toward them. She held a torch aloft, her gaze wild with panic.

  “There’s space under the boulder,” she gasped. “Get—”

  Her voice choked off as her gaze fixed upon Lilia.

  Peering over Ryana’s shoulder, Lilia’s bowels cramped at the sight of three shadowy forms drifting toward them, their misty cloaks billowing around them like tattered lace. Their pale gazes speared her, and Lilia knew a moment of absolute terror.

  It’s me they want. They know I carry The King Breaker.
>
  “Lily?” Dain had let go of her hand. His voice had turned brittle. “What’s happening to you?”

  Lilia ripped her gaze from the approaching Hiriel to see that all three of her companions were staring at her, aghast.

  She was shifting now—there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  Her clothing fell away, and her companions became giants. The night lost its murkiness. Suddenly she could see her surroundings clearly, and she could hear everything too. The flap of an owl’s wings overhead, the rustle of a badger in the undergrowth—and the roar of the others’ breathing.

  The odor of hot iron almost choked her with its intensity.

  Ryana recovered first from the shock of seeing Lilia shift. She glanced around, her gaze desperate. “Get inside!”

  Saul threw himself under the lip of the great boulder, yet Dain hesitated, his hands tightening around the shaft of his axe.

  “Now!” Ryana snarled, backing up. “Forget Lilia!’

  With one last, panicked, glance at Lilia, Dain complied. Ryana swiftly followed, rolling under the boulder.

  Crouched against the dew-laden grass, the enchanter gathered the Dark from where she lay on her belly. The sound of stone grating against stone filled the night. Another boulder—much smaller than the one they were hiding under—rolled in front of the entrance to their hiding place.

  The boulder came to rest with a dull thud, sealing Saul, Dain, and Ryana inside.

  The night suddenly seemed to come alive. Howls, cackles, and far off screams echoed through the darkness. More shadow creatures had scented prey and were closing in.

  Lilia backed up against the wall of rock, her attention shifting to where the Hiriel approached. She was aware then, of something hanging about her neck, an icy touch against her furred skin: The King Breaker.

  The Hiriel drew close, their star-like eyes boring into her, their spidery hands grasping as they reached for the stone around her neck.

  Lilia gave a yelp and cringed, snarling and snapping.

  The sprites drew back, surprised by her reaction. They didn’t withdraw more than a foot, but it was enough. Lilia bolted between them and fled into the night.

  When four bleary-eyed figures crawled out from under the boulder shortly after dawn, Lilia was waiting for them.

  Standing at the crown of the hill, in damp clothes she’d retrieved from the ground, Lilia felt dread curl in her belly. She wasn’t ready for this. Sleep deprived, her eyes stinging from fatigue, she’d spent the night eluding shadow creatures.

  But she’d prefer that to this confrontation.

  Ryana, Dain, and Saul rose to their feet. Their faces were haggard, their gazes wary—and when they spotted her, all three of them tensed.

  Then relief flooded over Dain’s face, although the other two regarded her with stony expressions.

  Ryana was the first to speak. “The King Breaker … do you still have it?”

  Lilia nodded, her hand going to where the stone lay under her shirt.

  Next to Ryana, Saul scowled. “Shifter,” he growled, his hard gaze raking over her. “I should kill you now, where you stand.” His right hand strayed to the hilt of the knife strapped to his left thigh.

  Ryana put out a hand to forestall him. Yet her gaze was still guarded when it met Lilia’s. “How is this even possible?” A nerve flickered on her cheek. “I thought your kind had been hunted to extinction.”

  Lilia swallowed. “We have … I am one of the last left … I think.”

  “How long have you known?” Dain had found his tongue. However, the wariness in his eyes made Lilia’s breathing constrict.

  “Since I was around six winters old,” she whispered. “The line runs through my mother’s family.” The words tumbled out of Lilia now. She knew she didn’t have a sympathetic audience, yet it felt a relief to unburden herself, to reveal who she really was to others. “It skipped Ma … although my grandmother was a shifter.”

  “Can you shift at will?” Dain breathed. His midnight blue eyes had gone wide as he surveyed her.

  Lilia shook her head. “No … it only happens when I’m really scared or angry. I can’t control it … I’ve never been taught how.”

  Saul spat on the ground. “Freak. You’re no different to the creatures that hunt us.”

  “Enough, Saul,” Ryana warned. Some of the hardness had faded from her eyes, although her body bristled with tension. “You’re not helping.”

  Saul rounded on the enchanter. “You know the stories. Shifters sided with Valgarth … they served him as faithfully as those Hiriel that nearly caught us last night.”

  Nausea washed over Lilia at these words. She’d heard the stories too, listened to all the songs. It was the reason the people of The Four Kingdoms had hunted shifters to near extinction in the years following The Shadow King’s fall. They’d played a huge part in his reign of terror. She’d carried the shame of it her whole life.

  “I’m not like them,” she whispered. “I’ve never harmed anyone … I just want to live in peace.”

  Saul snorted before glancing over at Dain. “Don’t sympathize with her. Shifters are cunning … she’s trying to take you in. We’re lucky she hasn’t slit our throats in our sleep. We can’t allow her to carry The King Breaker any longer. She’ll betray us.”

  “No, I won’t,” Lilia shot back, heart pounding. “I just want to get the stone to safety and then go home.” She felt tears prick the back of her eyes yet forced them back. She wouldn’t weep—not in front of them.

  Silence fell.

  Lilia wrapped her arms around her torso. It was a damp, grey morning—chill for the time of year. Her body ached with fatigue, but her heart hurt even more.

  This was what she’d always feared—to be looked upon as if she was something to be reviled.

  Yet when Ryana spoke once more there was no revulsion in her voice. “Shadows, Lilia … as if we didn’t have enough to deal with.” The enchanter let out a long sigh, pushing her mussed mane of golden hair out of her face. “But you can stop looking at me like that … no one is going to hurt you.”

  “We’d better get going,” Dain spoke up. His voice was subdued, although his gaze never strayed from Lilia.

  Saul turned on his companions, his expression darkening. “We’re not taking her with us?”

  Dain’s face grew hard. “Aye … we are.”

  Saul reached for his knife once more, halting when Ryana’s voice cut through the damp dawn air. The enchanter had moved into fighting stance, the fingers of her right hand flexing as she prepared herself to gather the Dark. “Enough of this. Touch her, Saul, and I’ll rip off your head.”

  21

  The Valley

  “HOW LONG TILL we reach The Royal City?” Lilia panted, out of breath from her attempt to keep up with the enchanter’s long stride.

  Ryana glanced her way, gaze narrowing. “On horseback, it would have been around two days … but on foot we have another four days, possibly five,” she replied. “Traveling off the road will slow us down.”

  This news made Lilia’s already low mood darken. At dawn, they’d returned to their destroyed camp and looked for their horses, but to no avail.

  At least four more nights out here in the wilderness, running from the shadows.

  We’ll never make it.

  The party of four traveled a few furlongs south of the Eastern Road, although careful to keep the highway in sight lest they got lost. Ryana led the way, her cloak flapping behind her as she strode east. The morning mist had drifted away, although a dull cap of grey hung overhead.

  Puffing as she climbed a steep hill, Lilia turned her attention to her surroundings. Watery daylight now filtered across the land, but she was on edge. The Hiriel were still out there somewhere—waiting, biding their time. The air was heavy and humid this morning—a reminder that despite the lack of sun, it was summer.

  On the Isle of Orin, folk would be harvesting the first of the summer berries and preparing for the Midsummer
Fire Festival. She wondered what those of her misty green isle made of this strange weather—or if anyone suspected something was amiss.

  Lilia reached the top of yet another hill and paused to catch her breath. Around her, the Highlands rippled out; endless wild valleys of trees stretched in every direction. The landscape was majestic, ancient—and if Lilia hadn’t felt so wretched this morning, she would have thought it lovely.

  Behind her Saul and Dain climbed the last stretch of the hill. Lilia watched them.

  She’d never seen two men more different.

  Saul was tall, dark, and dangerous—clad in black leather and armed with enough steel to bring down a charging boar. His face had a lean, chiseled beauty, his gaze hawkish.

  Next to him, Dain was short in stature and light of build, his movements lithe and agile. He moved with a fluid, stalking grace. Having seen him shirtless, she knew his body was lean and finely muscled. His shaggy, light-brown hair curled around the collar of his tunic. His handsome, boyish features would age well, like his father’s. And his piercing blue eyes were filled with sharp intelligence.

  “Lilia!” Ryana’s voice, sharp with irritation, jerked her out of her reverie. “Hurry up … we don’t have time to admire the view.”

  Lilia swiveled on her heel, just as the men crested the hill, and fled down the other side after Ryana. She was glad no one saw the blush that crept up her neck.

  Shadows, what were you doing?

  Jogging down the hill, she wound her way through a stand of pines before catching up with Ryana at the bottom. Then, sweating now, she followed the woman up a bare, rock-studded hill.

  This slope was the highest one they’d climbed so far, and both women were exhausted by the time they reached the top. They stood, breathing heavily while they waited for Saul and Dain to catch up. Above, Lilia caught the faint glow of the sun through the clouds directly overhead. Noon had arrived, and they had covered much ground since dawn.