The King Breaker.
Lilia looked down at the charm about her neck in awe. Ryana must have been mistaken. This stone looked too plain to be the object that had locked away The Shadow King. She knew the legend—all folk did. Centuries earlier, a brave and talented enchanter had forged a talisman to defeat Valgarth. He’d succeeded in imprisoning The Shadow King, but the act had taken his life, and snapped The King Breaker in two. After that the two pieces of the stone—the only object that could free Valgarth—were lost. Folk believed they were gone forever.
Lilia reached up, clasping the ice-cold stone with the intent of ripping it from her neck but found she couldn’t bring herself to.
She glanced up to find Ryana watching her. “You can’t take it off, can you?” she asked.
Lilia’s breathing quickened before she shook her head.
“The King Breaker contains a strong protection charm—it bonds to its wearer,” Ryana explained. “It amazes me that Saul had the strength to part with it.”
Lilia thought back to the moment in that lane when Saul had given the stone to her. “He wasn’t wearing it,” she replied. “He carried it in a metal box.”
Ryana’s mouth thinned. “That explains it. We found the other piece in an iron box as well, and kept it safe inside. None of us dared touch it for we knew its power.”
“So both pieces of The King Breaker have been found.” Dain spoke up. Lilia saw her own confusion mirrored in his dark-blue eyes as his gaze shifted between the stone and Ryana. “That can’t mean anything good.”
“Valgarth The Shadow King,” Lilia murmured, remembering the story her grandmother had told around the fireside, passed down from her own mother. “The breaker of Kingdoms, the enslaver of all.”
“Aye,” Dain replied, his face grim. “You wouldn’t want him set loose on the world again.”
“But it happened so long ago.” Lilia found herself gripping the stone tight in her hand, its rounded edge digging into her palm. “Surely he couldn’t survive five-hundred years locked under the mountains.”
“He was immortal,” Ryana reminded them, her voice subdued. “He’ll still be there, waiting.”
Lilia suppressed a shudder. Despite the presence of an Altar of Umbra in each settlement across the land, and the offerings folk left for the servants of the shadows at Winter Blood, it was easy to believe that the story of The Shadow King was a myth. The creatures that had once marched with him now lived in hiding, deep in woods and mountain valleys and shunned the brightly-lit towns and villages of Serran. Valgarth wasn’t part of the world that Lilia had been born into.
“The other half you say you stole.” Lilia met Ryana’s eye. “Where’s it now?”
The woman inhaled deeply, suddenly appearing much older and wearier than a moment earlier. “The Shade Brotherhood has it,” she replied.
Dain frowned. “The what?”
Ryana raked her hands through her hair. Her tall, athletic frame vibrated with tension. When she looked back at Dain, her eyes were wild, desperate.
“You might as well hear this tale from the beginning,” she rasped. “Just don’t ask me to repeat it.” Ryana looked down at her hands and inhaled deeply before beginning. “I liked my life in the Royal City of Rithmar, in the Order, but sometimes I used to feel stifled. A couple of evenings a week I’d go down into the lower town and sing and recite poetry in taverns for coin. That’s where I met Gael. He was older than me, a musician who played the harp while I sang. It wasn’t long before we became lovers.” Ryana paused here, composing herself a moment before continuing. “He used to ask me questions about my life in the Order, about the other enchanters, and I answered them without hesitation. Then one day I unwittingly revealed to him that we’d had an incredible find. Under the ruins of a temple to the old gods in Fellmere, one of our Order had found an iron box—and in it one half of an artifact thought lost forever.”
Ryana then covered her face with her hands, her voice muffled as she continued. “I was an idiot to confide in him. In reality I didn’t know Gael at all. Too late I discovered that he was an enchanter like me; only he’d been thrown out of the House of Light and Darkness in Anthor. He cast a dark enchantment over me that night and sent me back to the House to steal the stone.”
Ryana lowered her hands. Her desolate gaze swept over Dain and Lilia who listened in silence to her tale. “I did his bidding—I had no choice for he’d bound my will to his. I stole down to the Vault and killed the enchanter who guarded the stone. I brought it back to Gael, and he tied me up in the room we shared before disappearing into the night. In the morning, the enchantment had faded—yet I knew what I’d done, and I fled the capital before the Order came for me.”
Lilia slowly released the breath she’d been holding. “Why didn’t you go to them and explain it wasn’t your fault?”
Ryana’s gaze turned steely and her face hardened. “It was my fault. I told a man I barely knew a powerful secret—for that alone they would have punished me. Worse still, Gael was a member of a secret society of warriors called the Shade Brotherhood—men who’d spent centuries looking for the missing pieces of The King Breaker. I’d handed the stone to a dark enchanter in league with those wishing to free The Shadow King.”
“Didn’t they search for you?” Dain asked. “Surely, since you stole something so valuable, they’d hunt you down?”
Ryana’s mouth twisted. “They hunted for me, and I led them on a tortuous path before I cloaked my steps and hid myself on this isle.”
Silence fell at these words, broken only by the soft crackle of dying embers in the stove and the rattling of the wind against loose tiles on the roof above them. Lilia’s head hurt as she tried to make sense of what Ryana had just revealed.
Lilia had started off telling them about her oddly behaving shadow and the conversation had morphed into something far more frightening. She released The King Breaker from her sweaty palm and found herself staring at it. “What does this have to do with my shadow?” she whispered.
“I don’t know,” Ryana replied heavily. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you there.”
“It’s to do with that charm stone though?” Dain was staring at The King Breaker as if Lilia wore a venomous eel wrapped around her neck. “It can’t be a coincidence that shortly after she started wearing it, her shadow woke up?”
Lilia glanced across at Ryana, expecting her to nod—yet the woman merely stared back at her, confusion and pain on her face. “You’re probably right,” she murmured, “but I don’t have the answer.”
Lilia wiped her brow with the back of her forearm. It was so hot in the kitchen her head was starting to spin. Outdoors, it was the first mild day of spring but in here, standing next to a glowing stove, it felt as if she was trying to breathe underwater.
Her head hurt this morning; she’d gone to bed with a churning mind and had slept poorly. Work seemed trivial today—when she carried something so important around her neck.
I wish I could take it off.
Lilia had tried, before going to bed, but every time her hand fastened over the stone, a fierce protectiveness had swept over her. She could not remove it.
Beyond the thick kitchen walls, Lilia heard the faint thud of an axe on wood. Dain had been out back chopping logs for ages. Like her, he’d gone off to bed worried. Ryana had been distracted when she bid them both goodnight. Lilia hadn’t seen her this morning and suspected she had left. Revealing her real identity to them hadn’t been easy and Lilia saw that Ryana had spent years avoiding her past; it would be all too easy to start running again.
Lilia’s chest constricted. Ryana was the only one who could help her. Suddenly, the kitchen walls felt too close, constricting. She would bring Dain something out to drink and take a break and some fresh air herself. Lilia reached for a jug of freshly pressed apple juice and glimpsed movement out of the corner of her eye.
Twisting, she spied her shadow undulating across the flagstones behind her. Lilia’s anxiety flowered into panic but this time she fought her reaction; if Ryana wouldn’t help her she would have to face this herself.
Just ignore it.
Lilia turned her back on her shadow and poured two cups of apple juice. She gritted her teeth when she saw her hands were trembling.
“I’m still here.” A sing-song voice slithered over her shoulder. “There’s no point in pretending otherwise—I’m not going anywhere.”
Heart pounding, Lilia pivoted round to face it. “Why is this happening?” she asked, her voice shrill as she struggled to control her panic. “Why me?”
Her silhouette stopped moving for a moment. “I’m part of the charm too.” The words whispered like wind through the trees. “It has also bonded to your body and given me life.”
Lilia swallowed. “What do you want?”
Her shadow rippled, raising its arms high above its head. “To exist.” It grew larger before her, a dark stain spreading across the floor. Lilia’s throat closed as she watched it move. “The world is new to me—I wish to learn. You will teach me.”
Lilia backed up against the bench, her body now drenched in sweat. “Leave me be.”
Soft laughter carried across the kitchen. “I can’t do that, Lilia. I’m your mirror—your other half. I have been observing you these last few weeks, and I must say that I’m disappointed. You’re so full of fear—a poor choice to bear something so precious.”
“I didn’t ask for this.” Lilia choked the words out.
“No—but you walked right into it.” The voice hardened a little and developed a critical edge. “You let a stranger charm you, lie to you.”
Lilia stiffened. She’d had enough of this slippery, accusing voice. She wasn’t going to remain here and listen to more. Hands shaking she turned, picked up the cups and carried them out of the kitchen. However, the voice trailed after her. “We’ll continue this conversation later then …”
Lilia ignored its parting comment and stepped into the common room. Even though it was a warm day, a low fire flickered in the hearth. Ailin had his back to her as he wiped down tables. Neasa would be stripping down beds and cleaning the sleeping quarters.
Lilia crossed the common room behind Ailin, grateful he had not spotted her.
Ever since Neasa had seen Lilia and Dain in each other’s arms in the kitchen, both her employers had barely spoken to her.
Lilia exited the common room, taking the short, narrow passage leading to the courtyard at the back of the inn. She stepped outdoors. The bright sunlight made her squint, and she peered up at the cloudless blue sky. Not a breath of wind stirred the air.
Dain did not see her emerge into the courtyard. Stripped to the waist, he slammed the axe into the thick logs, splitting them easily, before tossing the pieces aside and grabbing the next log.
Lilia watched him. Despite that her heart was still pounding and her palms felt clammy, the sight of him gave her a welcome moment of distraction from her shadow.
It was the first time she’d seen him shirtless. Her gaze slid down the lithe column of his back; his shoulders were broader than she had thought. His skin gleamed with sweat, the muscles flexing under his lightly tanned skin as he brought the axe down on the next log.
She knew Dain was attractive; she’d noticed it the first time she’d seen him. However, she’d been determined not to let it affect her. They lived under the same roof, and she worked for his parents. Not only that but his teasing, his banter, made her distrust him.
But watching Dain now, she felt her breathing constrict; a reaction that had nothing to do with her shadow. Her gaze slid over his taut stomach to the finely muscled contours of his chest—and her mouth went inexplicably dry.
Sensing her watching him, Dain lowered his axe and turned. “Hello, Lily.”
His voice brought her to her senses. She blinked, her gaze snapping upward to his face. He was grinning at her—that smug male expression that told her he’d seen the direction of her gaze and was enjoying the attention.
Lilia ground her teeth. What came over me? The encounter with her shadow had clearly lowered her defenses.
She lifted the cups she carried. “I thought you might be thirsty …” Her voice trailed off when she saw he was still grinning. She fought the urge to throw the apple juice in his face. “Of course if you’re not, I’ll just take these away …”
She turned, stiff-backed, and was about to march inside when Dain called out to her.
“Thanks—I’m parched.”