Shadow's Voice

by Natalie Johanson

  “I will leave for the castle soon. I will find answers.”

  The stranger’s hissing accent was the same as the man from Nico’s memory, but she could not place where the accent was from. They had a lilt to them that was not found in this land. It sounded familiar to Rose, though. She frowned and listened harder. She knew this accent. From where?

  “That is a risk, isn’t it?”

  The strange man smiled again. “No, and I am beginning to think you cannot provide the payment you promised.”

  He hissed the last word and Rose saw the Lord visibly swallow. “No, no I will get it for you. But what you ask for has been lost to time. It will take more time to find it. Your own spy can’t even find it.”

  “She is sssearching,” he hissed loudly. “The castle is a large place with many libraries. I know where it is not.”

  “And that is?”

  “Not the king’s study nor the Great Library. Now, if that is all?”

  Lord Damian grumbled and let himself out of the room. Rose was debating following him when suddenly the stranger spoke.

  “You’re playing a dangerous game, girl.”

  Rose nearly fell out of the shadows with her shock.

  “A game . . . I do not think you know all the rules to.” He turned and looked directly at her, hiding in the darkness. Rose should’ve been invisible to him, but there he sat, looking directly at her and smiled again. “Are you sure you wish to play?”

  Never mind this, she cursed. Rose turned away and fled through the tunnels away from the strange man. She ran down the shadows, passing people and rooms and even Lord Damian without stopping. She crashed into her small room in the inn with a huff of breath.

  “What the hells?” she cursed and ran her hands through her hair. “What in all the hells?” Rose stormed in a circle.

  Her hands shook. She clasped them together and hugged them against her. “What in the gods-forsaken hells was that?”

  Rose took a deep breath and held it long enough for her heart to slow down, then went in search of cheap ale from the tavern.

  Rose shuffled toward the dining room. The tavern was quiet, thank the gods, this early in the morning, and only the young barmaid was in the room.

  “Tea, please?” Rose asked and dropped her arms heavily on the counter.

  The girl eyed Rose but reached for the kettle. “You look like you need more than tea. I can fetch some porridge.”

  Cringing, she dropped her head onto her arms. “Just tea,” she mumbled into the counter.

  She must’ve dozed off, because suddenly a mug of steaming tea clanked next to her head. Rose sat up without groaning; the day must be improving. She all but dropped her head into the cup and breathed in the steam.

  “Long night, dear?”

  Rose swiped the pot and retreated to her room. Back inside, she poured another cup and pulled the black book out of her pocket. She flipped through the pages as she sipped.

  She couldn’t read the words; they weren’t written in the common tongue. The glyphs looked old, like the ones painted on the old tombs of tribe leaders. Rose ran her fingers over the old ink, feeling the ridges time had created in the paper. The drawings looked like elemental magic: monsters made of flame, and giant rock people. Such fantastic things.

  Rose finished her tea and set the book aside. Did whoever own this book on magic study it? Or were they capable of magic? The world hasn’t seen magic mages for centuries. If this stranger was a mage, Rose wasn’t sure they had much hope to defeat him.

  Chapter 16

  King Micah blew gently on the page to dry the ink before folding the letter up and sliding it into the thick envelope. He poured wax onto the envelope before stamping his seal into it. A soft knock came from the door to his study.

  “Come.”

  Captain Sayla entered and helped herself to the chair across from him. “Good evening, Sire.”

  King Micah grunted a reply and set the invitation in the pile with the rest. “I do believe that is the last of them.”

  Captain Sayla looked at the large pile with dismay. “Must you invite so many people?”

  “Captain,” Micah chastised her, “that is the point of a ball; to invite a lot of people. So you may better show off.”

  She waved him off. “Yes I know that but, it is such a hassle. Delivering all these invitations ties up my officers.”

  “I’m sorry my duties as king tie up your . . .” He straightened the stack absently while he laughed at her. “Oh wait, they’re my officers.”

  “How about we agree to share ownership of them?” She took the pile from him and stuffed them into her satchel. “This was a good idea, Micah, to start up the Atron Ball again.”

  He glanced at her and back at his desk. “I remember the stories Grandmother would tell me. It seemed sad to me that such a celebration was abandoned. And this is the most opportune moment.”

  “I wouldn’t say abandoned . . . forgotten perha—”

  “Excuse me Captain, Sire.”

  King Micah looked up to see Ben standing in the doorway as Captain Sayla turned in her seat. “Yes?”

  “Soldiers sent a runner ahead; they believe they’ve apprehended the fugitive Simone.”

  Captain Sayla turned back to stare at King Micah.

  “Very good. Inform the guards on watch to send them straight to the cells. And alert the Arms Master, we may be in need of his talents.” Ben nodded and withdrew from the room. Micah turned to his Captain. “You’ll accompany us as well. Your talents will be helpful.”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  “Now we may finally have some answers.”

  Micah turned the corner in the cool hall and had to suppress a shiver. The dungeons were always cool because of the bare stone walls deep underground. It was dark, musty, cold. Micah hated it.

  “Sire.” Arms Master Gregory nodded in greeting.

  Micah nodded back at the Arms Master, the man’s black eyes not blinking. “Gregory. Has Captain Sayla arrived yet?”

  “Here, Sire.” Her voice came behind him and soon she stood next to him. Captain Sayla nodded at him. “Gregory.”

  “Shall we?” Micah didn’t wait for an answer. He entered the main room and saw a small woman sitting in the nearest call. Her clothes were dirty, and a black eye decorated her face.

  “Did my soldiers do that to you?”

  The woman glared at him through her dirty white hair.

  “What is your name?”

  The woman glared at him and folded her arms.

  “Simone,” Captain Sayla stepped next to Micah. “Simone Evlan.”

  “So, you know me?” Simone asked with a small sneer.

  “No, I read your mind.” The captain’s voice was flat as she spoke.

  Simone hissed between her teeth and scooted farther away.

  “This is Gregory.” Micah pointed over his shoulder to the short man standing against the far wall. “He is my Master of Arms. He is also my interrogator; trained by my father.”

  Simone glanced over Micah’s shoulder then dragged her eyes back to him.

  “I am going to ask you questions. I would hope you answer them. If you choose to be difficult, Gregory will ask them again.”

  Simone snorted. “Any torture from your Gregory will be nothing compared to what will happen to me if he finds me.”

  Captain Sayla cocked her head. “The man who hired you?”

  Simone shivered. “I don’t know if you can call him a man,” she muttered.

  “What does that mean?” Micah asked.

  Simone shrugged and shook her head.

  “If you are so afraid of him,” Captain Sayla asked, “why work for him?”

  Simone bared her teeth at the Captain in a sne
er. “For the money. For protection. You have such an easy life here. The king protecting you. No one shunning you and driving you from your home.”

  “You could be protected here,” Micah offered.

  “You’ll welcome me into your fold?” She chuckled darkly. “I’m sure.”

  “No. You’ll never leave this cell, but you’ll be alive. Depending on your information, perhaps other arrangements can be considered. But you’ll be alive.”

  Simone snorted and looked away.

  “Why wouldn’t the castle be safe?” Captain Sayla asked.

  Simone glared but spoke. “Why would it, if people are trying to kill the king? Why would I want to stay here?”

  “I’ll send you to Mercain Island,” Micah spoke up and saw the captain turn to stare at him from the corner of his eyes. Simone looked from him to the captain then back to him with a frown.

  “Which is?”

  “All my guards, all my Black Shields, live and train at Mercain. Those too old or too injured return there to live out their days. They always need more maids, cooks, stable hands. There is one way onto the island and one way off and the path is patrolled by Black Shield Masters. You will have a life of servitude and you will never leave the island.”

  Simone glanced over to Captain Sayla before slowly dragging her eyes back to Micah. “Exile on an island or execution after interrogation?”

  Micah nodded. “I would rather not execute you and I would rather my information be truthful and complete, but I will if you give me no other choice.”

  Simone sighed and slumped against wall. “Not the first place I’ve been exiled from.” She slumped further on the low bench and drew her knees to her chest.

  “Then, I will leave you with Captain Sayla and Gregory.” Micah turned away to leave when Simone called after him.

  “Tell her, the girl, that her oath was wasted on me.”

  Micah paused and turned back around to face her. “What oath?”

  Simone rested her cheek on her knees. “She should have killed me when we first met, but she didn’t. She said she swore an oath to never kill my kind. I’ve been exiled by my clan, any oath she had with Michael was void on me.”

  Micah looked to Captain Sayla, who nodded once and turned to Simone, and left the cells.

  “Start at the beginning.” Gregory’s voice echoed down the hall after Micah.

  Chapter 17

  Several days to rest and think, to try to understand anything in the stolen book, and she had very little to show for her effort. The shadows had said there were answers here but she had found none and they had remained silent since.

  Rose walked slowly along the halls of the keep. She needed to put the book back, and she wanted one last time to search the room. She knew she was taking a chance, she’d been caught by the strange man once already, but she needed answers. She had too many questions.

  Standing with her back to the door she sent her senses into the room. Nothing. Still she hesitated to move. She took one step and waited again. Nothing happened. She let out the breath she’d been holding.

  She slipped in through the shadows and went straight into the bed chamber. Rose pulled open the nightstand drawer and searched it for papers before placing the book back inside. Rose moved quickly, always keeping her senses in the shadows, checking for anyone, and moved to the other nightstand. Empty.

  Rose wiped her damp hands on her trousers and dropped to her stomach. She ran her fingers along the floorboards under the bed, feeling for anything loose or coming up. They all were smooth. She turned next to the armoire, which was full of fine silks and linen clothing neatly hung. Quickly, she rummaged through the pockets to find a few coins and a handkerchief.

  Rose pulled on the lower drawer and startled when it didn’t open. She yanked on it again, harder, and it didn’t move. She pulled her dagger from her waist and jammed the blade into the keyhole. She twisted and gouged the hole with her blade, not caring for the damage it caused, until the lock dropped from place and Rose could pull the drawer open.

  Through her shadows, she could see people walking down the hallway, getting closer and closer to the room. She recognized the hissing tones of the strange man.

  Rose searched through the papers in the drawer, turning them over and shuffling through them as quickly as she could. Most were scattered notes, some scratched out, other circled and underlined. One page was folded, oils from hands folding and unfolding it over time had turned it a dark brown. Rose unfolded it even as the man walked closer and closer.

  This, the shadows growled. He must not find this.

  “What?” Rose whispered.

  Rose read the scribbled page.

  Gerik’s Knowledge. Mind? Grimoire?

  Command the elements. They must listen.

  Lost? Burned? In library.

  “What is this?” She whispered to the shadows.

  The door clicked open and Rose dropped into shadow, the scribbled note page flittering to the floor.

  Rose stepped out of the shadows in an alcove, far from the mage’s room. She leaned against the cool wall, ignored by the few servants who passed her. He was looking for something. Rose tried to remember everything that was scribbled on the note. Is that what the shadows meant, when they said they’ve hidden it? They were hiding some book? Something to . . . what? Control all magic? Who was Gerik?

  And what did all this have to do with the coup? Maybe nothing. Rose turned toward what she thought were officers’ quarters. Maybe it had everything to do with the coup.

  Shaking herself, she resumed her task. She stepped into a long, thin shadow cast by the setting sun through the window and dropped into her misty shadow world. She walked through the darkness, passing windows into different parts of the keep.

  “Well,” she spoke to the mists, “is it a book? This thing you’ve hidden?”

  Silence answered her. “Worthless goats, the lot of you.”

  Rose stopped and looked through a break in the shadow at the darkened room. Stepping into it, Rose glanced at the shelves of books, rolled scrolls. A giant map of Rhivony was pinned to the wall. A saber and long sword were mounted on the wall behind the desk. She settled herself in the large chair and started pulling open drawers. Rose pulled out a rolled-up scroll and laid it out on the desk. There was a marker in the north near the Invius Mountains and another south in the swamps of Rosemand Province. Two markers on opposite boarders of the county. What did they mark?

  She rolled the map back up and pulled out a sheaf of papers next. Rose flipped through them. Most appeared to be supply orders made by someone named General Burk. Large amounts of armor and metals were being sent into the mountains and the swamps. Even larger amounts of food and horses. Rose turned back through pages. They were dated for several past months.

  Rose dropped the pages onto the desk and sat back. It wasn’t enough. Were these the locations of armies? Of an invading force? Rose rubbed her eyes and sighed. She been hired to find information, not make sense of it.

  She continued searching the office of General Burk but found very little else. A general he may be, but he didn’t appear to be a very important one. Rose did one last circle of the office to ensure everything was back in its place before dropping into the shadows and returning to her room at the inn.

  Her mind was still churning when she slipped inside her shabby room. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Rose didn’t know what to do. She wanted more information, needed more information, but the shadows weren’t safe anymore. Not with that mystery man hanging around the halls. Rose doubted she’d get any more information. Especially now that she’d clearly broken into his room a second time.

  Turning on her bed, Rose looked out her tiny window. The sun was still setting, making everything look orange. Rose started packing up her scattered things.

&nbs
p; Night had come by the time Rose slipped into the stable. She made quick work of tacking Taspa. Quickly, she walked him out of the stable and toward the woods. Something made her stop and turn, using the shadows to expose everything hidden from the light. No movement. Rose started to dismiss it as nerves when she heard a rustle. She drew her dagger as she turned and faced . . . nothing. She took a deep breath and held it, hoping to still her rapid heart.

  Rose sheathed her blade and swallowed her pulse. She climbed into the saddle and looked around the shadows again. Nudging Taspa into the trees, she kept half of her sight in the shadows; causing an uncomfortable double vision. Someone was watching her and she’d be damned if she didn’t at least try to find them out, double vision be damned as well.

  She rode for near an hour before the feeling was gone; before she finally felt alone in the woods. Still, for the rest of the night she slipped in and out of shadow vision watching for whatever may come.

  Chapter 18

  Rose sat slumped in her saddle. Her back hurt and her neck hurt more. It had been a long time since she’d seen a bed; an actual bed. She was too spooked to stop at the small towns and villages she’d passed. Rose kept to the forests and hoped to avoid other people and the person who had seen her leave.

  But she couldn’t shake the feeling she was being followed, hunted. On a whim, she’d doubled back onto her own tracks. She’d found a second set of horse tracks on top of her own. Try as she might, she couldn’t shake the tail and she had no idea how far behind her they were. Every time she looked through the shadows, she found no one. She was starting to think her paranoia was messing with her mind. Rose twitched as she thought she heard something in the trees but saw nothing. Spooked, she urged Taspa a little faster along.

  Someone burst out of the trees faster than Rose could track and broadsided their horse into Rose. Taspa reared with a loud whinny. Pain exploded in her leg as it was slammed between the two horses. Rose choked on a scream and blinked, trying to focus on the attacker who was coming toward her again. Instinct made her duck low in the saddle, and she just barely managed to avoid a blow. Rose barely managed to unsheathe her sword from where it hung on the saddle and held it defensively in front of her chest. Finally, her eyes focused on who was attacking her. A hood hid his face. The cloaked man attacked again with his sword and Rose barely held her sword against his.