“Well,” she spoke to the dark. “Where are you?” She turned, her arms wide and beckoning, in a circle. The mist swirled around her.
Movement caught her eye and Rose stilled, considered the dark. Glimmers of red blinked in and out in the distance.
“I know you’re there. Something is there.” Rose’s heart thundered in her chest, her breath coming quick and shallow. “Show yourself.”
Mist swirled, it condensed, it darkened. A form started to emerge in the darkened mist and then red eyes. A snout. Ears. The shape of a wolf.
Rose stared at it, remembering it from her hazy dream.
You called. The words reverberated in her head.
Rose took a deep, rattling breath. “What are you?”
The beast lift a ghostly lip in a snarl to reveal very sharp, very large teeth. Around her, she could sense motion in the darkness and the flickering of red eyes.
“Why are you here? Now? In my shadows?”
OUR shadows! It growled at her. You think you can claim that which is not yours!
“I don’t understand. Why are you here now?”
We are always here; you merely couldn’t see us before. Your power is awakening. One who walks among the shadows is searching for forbidden things. He must be stopped before the past repeats itself.
“But what are you?” Rose asked with shaking breaths. “Why wolves?”
The creature snarled softly. Wolves are just one of the many shapes we’ve taken over time.
It paced around her, its head low to the ground. You have forgotten much. So much time has passed.
Rose felt sweat trickle down her back and her hands shook.
You are ignorant of your duty. The shadow wolf snapped its jaws and shook its massive head. The mist swirled, the wolf vanishing as it settled. Rose panted, sweat dripped down from her hairline. The shadows pressed against her and pushed her back into the land of the light, back into the forest. Rose gasped hard at the sudden change.
Taspa nickered at her sudden appearance and flicked his tail.
Rose sunk down by her small fire and braced her elbows on her knees. “I don’t understand.”
She slumped down onto her bedroll, pulled the blanket over her hips. She watched the embers as she fell asleep.
Morning came early after a fitful sleep filled with strange dreams. Rose grumbled and rotated her head on her stiff neck. If she hurried, she would be to Berthton just as the sun was setting. The Penish family clan home was at the north most edge of Berthton, one of the largest cities in the country. Their history in the province was one of the longest and at one time had even fought for control over the other clans, before there’d been a king. A lot of their remaining control came from being located near the only traversable pass through the mountains to the people of the north.
“Are you coming to trade?”
Rose looked over at the traveler that had ridden up next to her on the ever-widening road. She shook her head at the weathered man. Two mules trailed behind him, laden with skins.
“I heard the trade in Berthton is excellent. I’m hoping to trade my skins for some of the foreign goods. They have such interesting colors.”
“Are you?” Rose humored the older man and looked again at his mules. “What kind of skins?”
He shrugged and looked back self-consciously. “Deer, mostly. I’m a hunter. Never been very good at keeping animals myself.”
“I’m sure you can find something.” Rose nudged Taspa a little faster.
As she neared the city walls, the sun started to dip more and more into the horizon. She passed the gates of the city, passed the guards chatting idly with each other. This close to sunset, most of the people were gone from the streets and as Rose neared the market, the stalls were packed up and empty. Rose maneuvered Taspa through the wide streets in search of an inn. The town, built so close to the giant mountain range, was set on hills. Most of the streets moved up hill toward the keep in various levels.
Rose found an inn not far from the market. Its stone, squat building nestled against a hillside. A young boy sat on the steps, whipping a long, dried piece of grass around the air.
“Do you know if there are rooms available?” Rose called down to the boy.
He jumped up at her voice and tripped a bit on the stairs. “Y-yes ma’am.” He paused to clear his throat. “Sorry, ma’am. I can take your horse around to the stables, if you like?”
Rose swung off Taspa, and groaned a little at how stiff she was. She pulled his reins around and handed them to the boy and pulled her pack off, swinging it over her shoulder. “I would, yes.”
Rose watched the young boy lead her horse around the building before climbing the steps. Inside was crowded with people, many laughing and drinking. It was just supper time and everyone was in the dining room for their meal. Rose weaved her way through the people, many wearing fine clothes with bright colors. Rose managed to push her way to the bar where a busy woman rushed back and forth with drinks. Leaning against the counter was a stoutly man, with keys clipped to his belt.
He eyed the sword belted to her waist with a glower. “We don’t want your type here.”
Rose dropped her heavy pack to the floor between her feet. “My type?”
He jutted his chin toward her sword. “Trouble-making type.”
Rose sighed. “The roads are dangerous. I want no more trouble than you. A clean room and a meal is all I ask.”
He eyed her up and down. Aside from the dirt of traveling, she was clean and wore the new clothing assigned to her by the captain. Nothing more than a simple shirt and bodice, short coat, dyed the Light Horse blue but void of any patches and insignias. Rose stood taller under his scrutiny.
“Fine, but any problems . . . .”
“Fine,” Rose relented and tossed a few coins on the counter.
The stout innkeeper tossed her a key in return. Rose grabbed it with one final glare and turned down the hallway away from the loud chatter of the dining room. She walked until she found the room with the matching number on the key. The room was small and cool thanks to the stone the building was made of, with a small bed stuffed in the corner.
Rose shut the door behind her and dropped her bag on the chest at the foot of the bed. She patted the small dagger at her waist, hidden under her coat.
“Let’s get on with this.” She stepped into the shadows on the floor.
Through the shadows, it was easy to reach the keep. Rose ghosted down the halls, through corridors. The keep was lit with candles along the walls, creating ample shadows for Rose to dart through. Along the walls were decorated with pieces of armor, tapestries of old battles, and catamount skins.
Rose stretched her senses, sensing through the shadows for something to direct her. An odd sound, a thrumming feeling, was in the shadows. Rose frowned, never having felt or heard anything like it before, and followed it. The closer she got, the louder it became. Rose stopped near a room, far removed from the more habited part of the keep.
She followed the darkness into the room. A quick glance around and Rose found it was empty. Hesitantly, she stepped out of the shadows and into the richly furnished room. Out of the shadows, the sound was gone. Rose walked deeper into the room, her feet sinking into the plush, thick carpet.
The door to her right led to the bed chamber and Rose spotted a writing desk in the corner. She headed toward the desk but froze. The hair on her neck stood on end. Her hand went to her hip, to her dagger. She drew it as she turned around, but no one was behind her. Rose frowned and lowered her dagger.
Extending her senses out into the room, she saw under furniture, behind drapes, hearing nothing, smelling the lilac dusted on the pillows, but felt no signs of life. Just as she was about to drop her magic, she felt something brush her mind. Like someone had run their
hand just close enough to her skin to brush her hair but not actually touch her.
Rose stifled a yelp. What?
She pulled her senses back from the shadows, but that did nothing to stop the feeling that she was being watched. Rose glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see someone, but again there was nothing.
“Something is wrong here,” she whispered.
Rose backed up into the wall, more than scared. She slipped into the hall. Rose all but ran down the hall before stepping behind a column. She took deep breaths through her nose trying to calm her nerves. Footsteps echoing down the hall startled Rose out of her shock and she slipped into the column’s shadow. In the darkness she finally felt free of any prying eyes. Wasting no time, Rose ran through her misty tunnels, passing openings leading to other places, slowing when she finally saw her room through the darkness. She leapt through that gap.
She stood panting, sweat trickling into her eyes, and sunk onto the small bed. “What in the hells . . . .”
Rose fell back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. What was that noise? Who was in the room? Was anyone even there? Rose let out a deep breath through her nose. More was changing with her magic. More was happening. She groaned and felt a headache building behind her eyes. What had she gotten herself into this time?
Chapter 15
Rose woke with a stale taste in her mouth. A quick peek out the window told her was still dark, causing her to groan. She lit the small lamp next to her bed.
She sunk back down onto the bed and roughly pulled off the confining bodice. Yanking her hair free of the braid, Rose ran her fingers through her tangled mane. She was irritated, tired, confused. Mostly irritated.
A soft growl startled Rose. Back straight, Rose searched the shadows cast by her small lamp. Slowly, the shadow beast emerged from the darkness. It stared at her with red eyes.
“What?”
It lifted its lip it a silent snarl.
“What do you want?” Rose demanded.
He searches for it. The words bounced around her skull.
“Who? What?”
He searches for the ancient one. We have kept it hidden but he is persistent.
“Who?” Rose demanded and struggled to keep her voice low. “Who is looking for what?”
The beast shook its shadow fur and snarled. You know so little! It snorted and settled on its haunches. He is like you. He seeks to do what one has done before. This cannot be allowed.
“Like me?” Rose whispered. Was that what she felt in the room? Someone with magic like hers? “I don’t understand what you’re saying. What is it he seeks?”
We will hide it. If he finds it, the Balance is broken. That cannot be. You must stop him. He continues to grow in power.
“You stop him then. If you know who he is.” Rose growled at the shadowy creature.
We interfere too much. The Balance must be kept. Your duty is to go where we cannot.
“My duty! What duty?” Rose yelled as the wolf disappeared and the shadows returned to normal. Anger and frustration built up inside Rose and she threw her pillow across the room. “You godless demon!”
The shadows stayed quiet and Rose, exasperated, went and retrieved her pillow. “You stupid . . . goat.”
She dropped onto the bed. She was still exhausted and her head continued to pound. The circular conversation with ghosts wasn’t helping either. Rose pulled the thin blanket up around her ears and closed her eyes.
“I still don’t understand,” she muttered.
Slipping into the keep in shadows was easy. Blending into the crowds of people within the keep was easier. Rose wandered the halls, slipping into shadow to hide when guards appeared, and painstakingly spent the following days getting a layout of the building. She was on edge, waiting for the strange sensation to reoccur, but it never did. The shadows remained quiet as well—no wolves.
Ducking around a suit of armor, Rose turned into the empty hall. Coming to an opened door, Rose peeked inside before stepping in. The door clicked softly behind her. The smell of inks and old parchment made her nose itch.
Standing still in the dark room, Rose looked through the shadows to the room behind this one. She saw a desk, cabinets, and more scrolls.
She walked through the shadows into the second room. Looking around the darkened office Rose turned and locked the door. She had been following two men she believed handled the supplies of the keep. She was mostly sure these were their offices. Creeping over to the desk, Rose slid into the chair.
She pulled on a drawer and cursed when it didn’t budge. Sitting back in the nice leather chair, Rose stopped and thought. She stared at the desk, waiting for answers. Next, she tried the small drawer in the center of the desk. The drawer opened. A chuckle crept up her throat when she saw the small key sticking out from under some paper. She unlocked the other drawers with a satisfying click. Rose smirked at the desk. She pulled out the sheaves of paper and started to skim through them.
After what felt like hours, Rose dropped the last stack onto the desk. She frowned at her foot, propped up on the desk. She was positive this was someone’s assistant, but no one useful to her. Rose started putting the papers back into the desk. Footsteps interrupted her actions. Shit, she cursed. Rose left the papers on the desk and slipped into shadow. Someone walked into the room and lit the small lamp on the desk.
She winced at the glare the lamp caused her shadow eyes. Rose slipped away from the light and hid in the deeper shadows. The light shining on the man’s face made it impossible to see who it was. The man sat at the desk but paused when he saw the papers sitting on top.
“He can’t do anything right.” He shuffled the papers together and slipped them back into the drawer. “I can’t believe I have to share my office, my desk. I deserve my own desk at the least,” he muttered as he straightened Rose’s mess.
He clicked the drawer shut and locked it. Slipping the key into his pocket, he leaned back and pulled out a blank stack of paper. Opening a ledger, the man cursed again. “Stupid twit can’t even keep a ledger.”
Rose sunk into the shadow tunnels. She looked through the shadow leading into the office. Nothing was there. Rose huffed a breath and stepped out into a deserted corridor. Rose brushed lose tendrils of hair out of her eyes and drummed her fingers against her thigh. She’d been spending all her time searching for possible places of information while trying to avoid the room, the hall, that had the strange feeling in it.
Rose walked slowly down the corridor. Perhaps it was time to revisit the strange room. She ducked around a corner and slipped into the light shadow along the floor. She slipped quickly through the shadow back to the room, but when she got there, Rose paused. The hair stood on the back of her neck. Taking a deep breath, Rose steeled herself and entered the empty room.
It looked the same it did before. Rose waited for half a heartbeat before moving swiftly to the desk. She pulled open each drawer, finding them all empty, not even lose paper scraps. Rose turned to the end table in the sitting corner and found nothing inside its one drawer.
“What?” Rose murmured and looked around. Aside from a stray coat and a pair of expensive boots, there was very little to imply someone was staying in these rooms. Rose turned in a circle until she was looking at the partially closed door to the sleep chamber.
Two red eyes stared at her from the darkness beyond the door.
“You stupid . . . worthless things,” Rose muttered and slipped into the dark bed chamber.
She went straight to the nightstand next to the bed and pulled open the drawer.
Answers. The wolves hissed. Here.
Rose paused to glare at the darkened corner before looking inside the drawer. Inside was a black book. Rose eased it out of and onto her lap. The leather was old and cracked along the spine. Gently, she ran her fingers alo
ng the cover. The leather was soft; warn from generations of handling. She opened to the first page and the words written there were in a strange language.
Slowly, she turned through the book. There were small drawings in the margins of the pages. A flame, a few pages later there was a mountain, then what looked like water; many more. As she skimmed through the book there seemed to be no discernible pattern or tale. Rose turned another page and froze. Her breath caught in her throat. Her vision narrowed to the page in front of her.
Here was a drawing, not just a scribbled sketch, of a wolf. A wolf hiding in shadows and mist. The wolf was part of the shadows.
Rose frowned at the drawing. What is this?
She swallowed and closed the book. Taking a deep breath, she slipped it into the pocket of her short coat. Whose room is this?
A click had her spinning around toward the main room just in time to see the edge of the door opening. Rose retreated into the shadows.
“Have there been any developments?” A well-dressed man asked as he settled himself in the love seat. Rose guessed this to be the Lord Damian, if his clothes were anything to go by. A second man entered but turned before Rose could see his face.
“I have not received a communication, yet Lord Damian.”
Rose circled around the men, trying to see the face of the stranger. Who are you?
He lit the table side lamp and Rose cursed. Then he sat directly next to the light, hiding any details of his face.
“Damn you,” Rose whispered.
The man turned his head in her direction. She could make out enough of his face to see him smile. You can’t hear me. There is no way you would’ve heard me. Her heart skipped a beat.
“We are running out of time.”
The stranger turned back to Lord Damian. “You will have answers when I do.” His words sounded like a hiss as he drew out his sounds.
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