Shadow's Voice

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Shadow's Voice Page 6

by Natalie Johanson


  “King Micah will see you.”

  Rose blinked and had to shake herself out of the fever stupor. Painfully, she pushed herself out of the chair and followed the brisk captain. She was led back down the corridor toward the throne room; however, instead of entering the throne room she was led to a small meeting room off to the side. A large, ornate chair sat at the end of the room, decorated with richly colored rugs and tapestries.

  Rose breathed a sigh of relief at finally being near the end of her journey and gathered what was left of her energy to face the king. She finally stood before the High King of Rhivony. She’d made the journey across the Rhivony countryside, survived all the way to Haven Province to the seat of the king. She made it here and all she could think was how much younger he looked than she had thought he was.

  “So, ma’am, you have your audience. What can His Majesty do for you?” An older woman, wearing an elaborate gown, standing next to the king spoke.

  “Thank you.” Rose swallowed and had to start again. Her limbs trembled and her heart raced. “Thank you for seeing me.”

  The king, seated behind an ornate desk, and the three advisors standing with him looked her up and down. Disgust, curiosity, and surprise all flashed across their faces.

  “Majesty, I was traveling and met one of your soldiers. He said his name was Nico. We spoke briefly while in town and then parted our own ways. However later, outside the city boundaries he,” Rose paused to lick her dry lips. “He told me of some important information.”

  “What information? How can we believe you?” the older woman demanded. “What information could you have? You look to be nothing more than a thief.”

  “Because he . . .” Rose tried to calm her panic. “I am not a thief. Sire, he begged me as he was dying.”

  The king glanced at the captain.

  “Well then, ma’am. You’d best deliver your tale, then,” the king prompted her.

  Rose opened her mouth but had to pause as her vision faded in and out. When her vision cleared, she took a deep breath, then spoke. “Nico told me of a conversation he had overheard. He witnessed two men . . . two men plotting the death of the king.”

  The older woman shifted and glanced at the king.

  A third advisor, a graying man, stepped forward to stand next to the older, angry woman. “Why should we believe you?”

  “I know what I sa—was told. Nico was killed for a reason.”

  The captain cocked her head to one side. “How did Nico give you this information, child? A letter perhaps?”

  “He told me, ma’am.” Rose answered.

  “With his dying breath he told you everything?”

  “He . . . he told me as much as he could, ma’am.”

  Rose’s ears rung. Her arms burned. Her skin was clammy with sweat. A distracted thought made her giggle softly. Maybe the fever will win. Then prison will not be a worry.

  “Well, Captain Sayla?” King Micah addressed the woman who had a satisfied look on her face, despite the sadness.

  “She is not hiding her thoughts, Sire. Nico passed the information through his gift. Her information is truthful.”

  Rose frowned. The king spoke more to Captain Sayla, but the words were muted. Rose felt the world around her slowing down. Voices were muffled and the people were blurry in front of her. The world started tipping on its side.

  Someone shouted through the haze, “Captain!”

  Rose was one her side and felt hands gripping her arms, keeping her head from crashing on the floor.

  Her eyes cleared enough for her to see the face of a guard inches from hers.

  “A chair for the young lady,” King Micah spoke from his throne, “and alert the Healer. Captain, you did not say she was in this poor of health.”

  “I did not know, Sire.”

  There was movement around Rose and then the guard was lifting Rose into the chair.

  “Perhaps you’d best continue your tale ma’am,” the king said.

  So Rose told them, from the beginning, the meeting with Nico in the tavern. She told them as quickly as possible, the memory Nico shared and his death. The captain’s eyes grew pinched and her lips thinned when Rose spoke of his death. She mentioned briefly that she had been captured by the mercenaries responsible for Nico’s murder.

  “I swore I would fulfill his last wish, and bring this message to you, Sire.”

  “Just like that?” the older man scrutinized. “Just like that you willingly agree to carry a message across the country and through who knows how many perils just because some poor soul asked you to?”

  Rose made a rude snort. “My reasoning is my own,” she mumbled.

  “Your reasons are my concern, child, when you expect me to believe them,” he scolded.

  “I tell you the truth. I promised him I would continue his mission.”

  The old man smiled at her like she had said something stupid. “Why would you promise such a thing? You expect me to believe you are that kind of a person? You could be a spy or an assassin for all I know. We’ve already had one assassin. How do we know you are not another?”

  Rose glared at him.

  “You have nothing to confirm your story.”

  “Jacob,” the king interrupted, “her reasons are a tale for a different day.”

  “But Sire, she is—”

  “Enough. Captain Sayla supports her tale and I trust the captain’s judgment.”

  Jacob frowned, but a glare from the king silenced whatever he was going to say.

  “What’s your name, child?” The captain interrupted the two men and her eyes went to Rose’s black-and-blue, mangled hands.

  “Rose Trewin, ma’am.” Rose sighed and sagged even farther into the chair.

  “That cuff, your captors put it on you?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  The captain’s fingers danced across the luminescent surface. “How long?”

  Rose groaned. “Days. Maybe weeks.”

  The captain had an odd look on her face. “My lord, might one of your guards be able to pick the lock on this cuff for the lady?”

  The king murmured something and the same guard who had caught her appeared.

  “Ma’am,” he said softly and started working on the cuff with two narrow tools.

  He unlocked the metal cuff in seconds and it clanked loudly to the floor. Rose couldn’t stop the cry that escaped as it pulled away from her mangled, raw wrist. She whimpered as the cold air burned her open wounds.

  “Captain,” the king spoke but the words started fading out again, “see her to the Healer’s Wing . . . .”

  Whatever else the king said was lost to Rose as she slumped unconscious.

  Chapter 6

  Rose blurrily rolled over when someone walked in. “Wake up, dear.”

  “What?” Rose hazily remembered a tall, thin woman with wild, curly red hair cleaning and changing her bandages, applying salves to her many festering wounds. Rita, she thought the woman’s name was. Rose remembered a soft-speaking woman, with so many freckles across her nose and cheeks they looked almost solid, saying she was the Head Healer. The fever had continued to rage through her body and Rose had a few scattered memories from it. She tried to blink the cotton from her eyes and unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth.

  “The king wants speak with you. I told him you were well enough to speak for a few minutes.”

  “Can’t he wait a few more days?” Rose mumbled while running her tongue over her teeth.

  Rita chuckled. “Yes, well, I don’t see why not. He’s waited nearly a week. I don’t see how a few more days will hurt but . . . men. Always so impatient.”

  Rose bolted upright before falling back against her pillow with dizziness. “What?” She managed to mumble before d
arkness crept into her eyes.

  When her vision cleared, Rita was snapping her fingers in front of her face. “Why did you go and do that, hmm?”

  Rose blinked and tried to swallow. Rita helped her drink from a mug of cool water that washed the cotton from her throat.

  “Now,” Rita pointed a finger at her, so close it made Rose’s already fuzzy eyes go cross-eyed. “Stay against your pillows, eh? Don’t push yourself. Don’t let the king push you either. I’ll be mighty unpleased if you go and make yourself sick again after all my hard work.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Rose watched as one guard, then another, and a then a third walked in and lined the walls of her small room. The king walked in next and settled himself in the only chair. Rose watched the guards wearily before turning to the king.

  “I will try to make this brief; I know you are still weak.”

  She blinked again, waiting.

  King Micah hesitated, looking uncertain under Rose’s gaze; it made him look almost nervous. “When Officer Falden showed you his memory, did you notice anything that could tell you who the man was?”

  “No,” Rose rasped. “Only that he was richly dressed and well spoken.”

  King Micah nodded, eyes lost in thought. “And the man being hired, you did not see any of his face?”

  Rose shook her head against her pillow. “I only saw what Nico saw.” Her eyelids were heavy, and she could feel the exhaustion from the fever press against her.

  The cotton taste was back in her mouth. Hazily, she noticed something cool stroking the back of her hand. When her eyes cleared, she saw the king absently running his thumb across her hand while he stared off in thought.

  “What—”

  She startled the king out of his thoughts. He sat up straight and removed his hand. “You slipped back into sleep and started murmuring and fretting. Stroking your hand seemed to calm you. I hope I did not make you uncomfortable.”

  Rose briefly shook her head. She was too tired, too sick to care. “I relish the day I can stay awake for longer than five minutes.”

  “You were only asleep for a moment.”

  Rose clumsily tried to reach for the mug of water. Micah grabbed the mug instead and even helped lift Rose’s head to drink. I can’t imagine bedside service to strangers is in his normal day of activities, Rose thought as she sank back into her pillows. So, what does he want?

  “May I ask you how received all these injuries?” He gestured to her whole body. “Madame Rita said you have many.”

  She snorted. “Mercenaries are not kind.”

  The king covered her hand with his again. “You risked much.”

  Rose avoided his face. She did not know how to respond to this kindness. Was there something he wanted from her?

  “It was what it was,” she eventually said. “I had to get the message to you. I did not expect it to be easy.”

  “You are a brave woman,” he said.

  A soft snort escaped her. She was not brave. Rose wandered through life afraid and suspicious. It kept her alive. Kept her out of danger . . . worse danger. “No.”

  The king removed his hand and stroked his short beard and Rose noticed again how young he looked. His chestnut beard was trimmed short as was the rest of his hair. His eyes were so dark brown they were nearly black. She’d always thought her king was some old dolt with a long gray beard hidden away from reality. She scoffed inwardly at her naivete.

  “Do you know where they intended to take you?” he asked, interrupting her scrutiny.

  Rose rubbed her eyes and tried to focus. “North—” she shrugged. “Somewhere in Amora Province. In the mountains.”

  “Do you know how far they had taken you, when you escaped?”

  Rose smothered a yawn. “No. I do not. I was lost in unfamiliar woods.”

  “Then how did you find your way to the castle?”

  “I follo—” Rose stopped herself. Rose scrubbed her forehead. Everything was so confusing. “I don’t know, Sire. Not really, anyway.”

  King Micah cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sure there is a tale behind that, but you’ll tell it when you’re ready.”

  Blurrily, Rose noticed the king tucking the sheet under her chin.

  “You’re pretty humble for a king,” Rose mumbled, already half asleep.

  She heard a deep rolling laugh, then the darkness again.

  Chapter 7

  Rose panted as her vision went from the gray shades back into color. She’d spent all afternoon trying to shadow shift. When she tried, there was still a sharp, painful zing that shot through her body from her wrist. The burn on her wrist, the pain that rippled through her veins made her magic feel wrong somehow.

  She struggled to pull her magic from wherever it lay inside her, fought to bring it to the surface. As the sun started setting through her small window, she’d been able to stay in shadow for a few minutes at the most. She huffed in frustration as a sharp headache started behind her eyes.

  I shouldn’t have pushed this hard, she thought with a huff.

  “What in the gods’ names have you been doing in here?” Madame Rita shrieked.

  Rose cringed and shrunk away from the woman’s screech. “Nothing, ma’am.”

  Madame Rita glared down at Rose as she settled a small tray with cups and a steaming teapot. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  Rose cringed and kneaded her left temple.

  Madame Rita mopped Rose’s face with a clean cloth. “Here.” She handed Rose a warm mug filled with tea. “You stubborn girl. Drink your tea. The king is coming to speak with you again.”

  Rose closed her eyes and sipped the herb tea. The herbs helped her head but tasted bitter enough to curl her toes. She opened her eyes when King Micah and the blond Captain entered. Something about the stern woman made Rose nervous and she watched her with weary eyes. There was something she was hiding. Rose nodded to the king and sipped more tea. King Micah settled himself in the only chair.

  “Are you well? Madame Rita said you were not feeling well.”

  “I’m fine. I just overexerted myself.”

  Micah lifted an eyebrow and gestured to the blond woman standing at his shoulder. “Do you remember Captain Sayla of the Light Horse? She wished to join us.”

  Rose nodded and turned her attention back to the king. “Do you have more questions for me?”

  She was interrupted by Madame Rita’s chiding voice. “Finish your tea.”

  Rose sighed and sipped her cooling tea.

  “I was hoping you could tell us more about the mercenaries. We’re hoping they are known mercenaries, mercenaries we can possibly track back to who hired them,” the king spoke into the silence.

  Rose looked at the king again. “One was called Simone. She’s a Tracer, short white hair.”

  “A true Tracer?” Captain Sayla asked her, disbelief thick in her voice.

  “Yes,” Rose looked at her hands. “It was how they found us.”

  “Well, that should narrow things down.” Captain Sayla pursed her lips and pulled out a brown ledger from the bag at her feet. Rose hadn’t noticed the bag when the captain had entered and she squinted at it, wondering what else was in there.

  Captain Sayla flipped through the pages quietly then stopped. “I have a Simone Evlan listed here.” She squinted at the page.

  Rose frowned. “Listed in what?”

  Captain Sayla spoke without looking up from her book. “Our record of wanted people throughout the provinces.”

  Rose felt her heart quiver at the captain’s words. Was her name in that book? She wanted to lean forward and peer at the pages, to search for her name, for what people knew her as but resisted.

  Captain Sayla glanced at Rose and watched her before slowly turning back to the pag
es. “She was first reported as being a sword for hire nearly a year ago and has Tracer skills. There is no record of her being associated with the Tracer Clan.”

  “Of course she isn’t. The crown doesn’t recognize the Tracers as a clan, and as such don’t afford them the same protections. Their head doesn’t report to you and doesn’t report their people to you.”

  Captain Sayla glanced up at her through her eyelashes before looking back down to her ledger.

  “And the other?”

  Rose gripped her mug. “He is no longer a problem.” She looked down at her lap and avoided anyone’s eyes.

  “Why is that?”

  “He isn’t a problem,” Rose repeated.

  Captain Sayla stared at her and Rose met it. After a moment of silence, the captain looked away and closed her ledger. “All right, then.”

  “Captain, please make sure Simone’s name is circulated among my officers. If she’s alive, she needs to be found and brought here,” King Micah ordered softly from his seat, nearly forgotten by the two women and their battling wills.

  The captain spoke but Rose didn’t hear her words. Instead, she was listening to the faint scream coming through the shadows. As the scream ended, Rose felt a surge of energy rush through her veins. Rose jerked and her tea spilled. It sizzled and burned and was like nothing she’d ever felt before. She sat even straighter and tried to send her senses through the darkness, looking for the source.

  “Rose? What is wrong?” Micah asked and leaned toward her.

  Rose ignored him and put her left hand on the wall, trying to send her sight through the shadows. Pain flared through her arm as her eyesight traveled through the dark corners of the castle. Corridors and doors blurred past as she searched for the source of that energy. In her peripheral vision, she saw the king move to touch her but the captain stopped him.

 

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