THEY REMAINED IN the hall, seating themselves on the benches below the dais while a group of shadow creatures escorted the Captain of Anthor and his men east. Dusk had settled outdoors, so it was now safe for the shadow creatures to travel.
The bulk of the audience emptied out of the hall, although some of them—Darg and the other Thracken—remained on the fringes of the vast chamber. They were giving their queen some space, but staying within earshot to serve her needs if requested.
Asher watched them warily. Unlike Ninia, who had assumed her role as their queen with unnerving confidence, he was still waiting for the shadow creatures to turn on them again.
But, instead they brought their packs to them, retrieved from the clearing where they’d camped before the attack, as well as Mira’s knives and her sword.
Asher handed out food and skins of water, and the three of them slaked their thirst before falling upon their meals. Fear had driven all thought of thirst and hunger from Asher, yet now that the immediate threat to his life had passed, his throat felt like a strip of dry leather.
None of them spoke while they ate, although a tension had settled between them. Mira’s expression was shuttered, and she kept darting glances at her companions. Eventually, when she had finished her bread and cheese, and dusted the crumbs off her leggings, she spoke.
“When were the two of you going to tell me?”
Ninia tensed. “It was my secret to keep … I didn’t think he knew.”
Both their gazes settled upon Asher then.
“How long have you known?” Mira demanded.
Asher met her eye. This was the moment he’d been dreading. Did he feed her another lie or tell the truth?
The truth would make Mira hate him, but she deserved to know—they both did.
“I’ve known from the beginning,” he said quietly. “That’s why the head of my order sent me.”
Neither woman answered. However, the look on their faces told him he’d better tell this quickly. He’d started the boulder hurtling down the slope; there wasn’t any point in trying to stop it now.
“She sent me to kill you … both.”
Another silence fell. The look on Mira’s face could have frozen a forge. A heaviness settled over Asher then. Mira wasn’t the type to trust easily, and he wagered she wasn’t quick to forgive either.
The bond that had forged between them had been as fragile as it had been powerful. Mira had been on the cusp of letting her guard down, of trusting him, but with just a few words that bond had shattered.
Ninia’s face wasn’t any friendlier than her guardian’s. “Why am I still alive then?”
“Because I couldn’t do it.”
“Why?” Ninia pressed, her voice hard and flat.
“Because I don’t believe your gift should be feared. I don’t believe we should destroy what we don’t understand.”
“Noble words.” The sarcasm in Mira’s voice was cutting. “But you were planning to take us back to your order all the same. What would they do to her?”
Asher glanced back at Mira. This was going worse than he’d feared. He’d be lucky if she ever spoke to him again after today. Anger had given Mira back her hard shell.
“Answer me,” Mira snarled. “Let’s have some truth out of you at last.”
“The High Enchanter would want her contained, dealt with,” he admitted, “but I wouldn’t let that happen.” His attention swung back to Ninia. “I’d protect you with my life, and I’m not the only one. You have friends among the order.”
Ninia held his gaze, although her expression didn’t soften. “You didn’t have the stomach to end me … so you thought you’d let the High Enchanter do it.”
He shook his head. “No,” he rasped. “Listen to me, Ninia. I’m trying to help you.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me you knew who I really was?”
“I didn’t want to scare you.”
Her lip curled.
“Believe me, Ninia … I’d break from the order rather than hurt you. I swear it.”
Ninia and Asher stared at each other for a long moment, and the princess’s face finally softened. Ninia wasn’t like Mira—she had an open heart and was quick to forgive.
“Do you believe me?” He hated the sound of his voice: broken, pleading.
Holding Asher’s gaze she let a long sigh escape. “Yes … I do.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Mira’s growl intruded. “He’s a liar. He doesn’t care about your wellbeing, only his own.”
“Are you so different?” The hardness in Ninia’s voice came as a surprise to Asher. He tore his gaze from Mira to see the princess was watching her guardian, her eyes flinty.
Mira stared back, clearly affronted by the question. “Of course I am.”
“No, you’re not,” Ninia countered. “You promised my mother you’d protect me, but ever since we left Veldoras you’ve thought of nothing but escape.”
Mira’s face flushed. “That’s not the same thing … at least I’d never betray you.”
“I’m not the fool you think I am,” Ninia replied. “I know what happened that first night in The West Wolds. I know Asher stopped you from escaping.”
Mira’s face pinched at that, yet Ninia had succeeded in silencing her. Asher said nothing. Ninia had impressed him though. They’d all—him included—underestimated her.
It was still dark when they reached the western edge of The Forest of the Fallen. Dawn had not yet crept over the top of the trees behind them, although the moon had set and only starlight illuminated the gently rounded hills before them.
Mira stepped beyond the trees and craned her neck up at the clear night sky. It was a relief to be out in the open again. Yet after a long night hiking through the forest, flanked on all sides by shadow creatures, she felt suffocated and on-edge.
Mira had walked apart from her companions. She said little to Ninia and didn’t speak to Asher at all.
Fury still burned in the pit of her belly, glowing embers waiting to reignite when she was ready. She nursed her anger like a bruise, savoring it. The emotion was easier to manage than the aching sense of hurt, loss, and betrayal that lurked just beneath.
Darg had accompanied them to the forest edge, as Ninia’s new protector.
Mira hung back. She had no wish to walk near that thing. The proximity of the other shadow creatures—the loping Nightgengas, stalking Fen Hounds, and scampering Dusk Imps—stretched her nerves taut. Asher walked a few yards behind her, similarly surrounded by his escort.
Mira didn’t look back at Asher or acknowledge him for the entire journey. The sight of him galled her. Her hands fisted. If Asher knew what was good for him, he’d stay away from her from now on.
At the forest edge, the crowd of shadow creatures hung back, letting the three companions walk forth. Mira strode away from the trees, her spine tingling at the feel of the creatures’ gazes trailing her. However, she stopped when she realized that Ninia had hung back, letting her and Asher go on ahead.
Mira turned, her gaze swiveling to the tree-line, where the princess and the Thracken lord stood. She heard the murmur of Ninia’s voice, and the whisper of Darg’s, but could not make out the words.
Beside her, she was aware that Asher too had stopped, and was looking back at the forest. Mira ignored him, deliberately keeping her gaze upon Ninia and Darg. She didn’t like the way the pair of them huddled together as they talked.
Eventually, Ninia and her protector concluded their conversation and the princess walked away from the Thracken without a backward glance.
“What was that about?” Mira asked as Ninia drew near.
“Nothing,” Ninia replied, her tone neutral. “Darg was just wishing me well.”
Mira snorted, making it clear she didn’t believe her.
However, Ninia didn’t appear to care. “Come on,” she said, moving past them and continuing up the grassy slope. “Darg tells me Aldeport lies barely more than half a league west. If we hurry, we can make it for breakfast.”
Mira watched Ninia go, irritation surging. She’d nearly had enough of both her companions. Asher moved past her and followed Ninia up the hill, letting Mira bring up the rear.
Mira hung back, allowing them to go on ahead. Part of her wanted to turn and run, to rid herself of them both. It was only the memory of what Ninia had said to her earlier that held her back. The girl had known right from the start that Mira had wanted to leave her.
I’m not the fool you think I am.
Shame had filtered over Mira in that hall when Ninia said those words. She wanted to prove her wrong. Hadn’t she stayed anyway? Asher couldn’t have stopped her, not if she’d really wanted to leave.
Wishing she had never met either of her companions, Mira followed them up the slope.
The sun rose as they walked, and once they crested the first row of hills, Mira caught sight of The Cruel Sea in the distance. An orb of gold and red was rising over the edge of it, setting fire to the sky. It was the most beautiful sunrise she had ever witnessed, yet Mira felt hollow inside.
A shriek sliced the air overhead, and she glanced up to see Grim had joined them. The white hawk glided in circles. Ahead, Asher craned his head to look up at the bird. He stretched out an arm and Grim swooped down, landing upon it.
The hills to the west gradually flattened to wide meadows that ran down to the sea. And finally, in the distance, they spied Aldeport. Huddled before wide tilled fields, low stone and wood cottages welcomed them. Cottars were up already, smoke rising from the turf roofs of their hovels. Some had emerged into the chill morning, hoes and rakes in hand to begin work in the fields.
Beyond the outskirts of Aldeport, the buildings rose to two and three storied dwellings, and the streets turned from dirt to cobbles. The streets of the port radiated out like the spokes of a wheel, all converging on a great square before the port itself. A gentle slope led down to it, and the three of them wandered down to where the daily market had just begun beneath the shadow of an Altar of Umbra.
The sight of the towering, black pillar, which reflected the glow of the spectacular sunrise, reminded Mira of how close they’d all come to never leaving that forest. It was also an eerie reminder of the link Ninia now had with the servants of the shadows.
They hailed her as their queen … that can’t mean anything good.
She’d been in awe of Ninia’s abilities before, but now that she’d learned she could gather both the Light and the Dark, she was also a little afraid of her.
This realization irritated Mira. She didn’t like what she’d learned about herself on this journey. Indecisive. Gullible. Fearful. Recent events had held up a mirror to her, and she didn’t like what she’d seen there.