Lilia hunched in a corner of the cave and retched, bringing up the last of the few mouthfuls of stale bread and hard cheese she’d consumed at dusk.
Behind her, she heard the others shifting around near the entrance to the cave, murmuring amongst themselves as they discussed what they’d just witnessed, but she paid them no mind—she just wanted to be alone.
To forget she’d ever seen it.
Yet those bloody, brutal images were burned into her mind, and when she squeezed her eyes shut, she relived it all.
Hard men, screaming as they were ripped to pieces.
The lethal stealth of the shadow creatures—their joy as they attacked.
Lilia’s stomach contracted once more and she vomited bile.
“Nasty business, I’ll admit.” A familiar voice breathed in her ear. After days of silence since Tallow, her shadow had decided to speak up once more. “However, since you’re likely to face those creatures again soon, I suggest you toughen up.”
Lilia placed a palm on the damp, cold stone wall and pushed herself upright. “Leave me be,” she whispered. “I’m not in the mood for this.”
“You never are,” her shadow murmured back, “but luckily for me, you have no choice in the matter.”
“What do you want?”
“What do you want?” her shadow mimicked her, its sing-song voice turning cruel. “You repeat that every time. Don’t be pathetic, girl.”
Anger flared, burning away the lingering horror. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Say your piece then,” she said through gritted teeth, “but make it quick.”
“Lilia?” Ryana called. The enchanter had just woven a net of shadows over the entrance and would now have to guard it for the rest of the night. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m fine,” Lilia called back. “I just need a few moments.”
“They do fuss over you,” her shadow whispered in her ear.
“It’s not me they’re worried about,” Lilia countered, “it’s the stone.”
“Finally, some grit.” The taunt in her shadow’s voice made Lilia clench her jaw. It enjoyed baiting her, angering her—and she let it. She was just about to push herself up off the wall and return to the others when her shadow continued. “However, you’re right. Don’t trust the enchanter or the prince—they’ve got their eyes on The King Breaker. They’d both sell you for it.”
Lilia stiffened. “Do you know that for a fact?”
Her shadow gave a soft chuckle. “You forget I’m always here, watching. I see their faces, observing you, when you’re asleep; the way they look at you when your back is turned. She’s eaten up by her past, and he’s ruled by ambition. I’m surprised neither of them has tried to take it from you yet.”
Lilia swallowed. Her throat stung from vomiting, and she felt weak and wrung out. “And Dain?”
She regretted the question as soon as the words left her lips, even more so when her shadow gave another low chuckle. “Oh, you can trust him—if you could bring yourself to meet his eye.”
Lilia scrambled to her feet and cracked her skull on the rock ceiling above. Cursing loudly, she clutched her head and stumbled back to the mouth of the cave. Near the entrance, where a silvery veil shimmered, she spotted the outlines of her three companions.
“Who were you speaking to back there?” Saul asked.
“My shadow,” Lilia replied, sitting down and rubbing her aching skull.
“What did it have to say?” His voice was low, although she heard the naked interest in it and remembered her shadow’s warning. Perhaps she had been too trusting of Saul—Dain certainly thought so, although she’d always dismissed his concerns.
“Gibberish mostly.” She kept her voice light. “Nothing worth repeating.”
“No advice then?” Dain asked. He sat next to Lilia, so close she could feel the warmth of his body. As always, his nearness made her feel better; calmer and stronger.
If you could bring yourself to meet his eye.
Yes, her shadow had given her advice, of sorts—but not any she felt like sharing.
“None,” Lilia murmured.
Despite the hard floor, studded with pebbles and jagged edges of rock that jabbed into her flesh through her clothing, Lilia slept deeply that night. Even the damp chill inside the cave and her fear of what stalked the dark beyond it, could not keep the exhaustion at bay.
It crashed over her, dragging her down into oblivion, and she lay like a corpse huddled against the wall until Dain shook her awake at dawn.
They had all rested—except for Ryana.
While her companions had been sleeping, she had remained awake by the door—holding the shadow net in place.
One look at the enchanter’s face and Lilia saw her exhaustion. Ryana had slept briefly at dusk, but it hadn’t been enough for her to recover from the rough night before that. In the watery light of dawn, her face was drawn, and she had dark smudges under her eyes.
With a sinking heart, Lilia realized that Ryana would not be able to withstand another sleepless night.
They were still at least three days travel away from the capital; but they would never make it without the enchanter’s protection. Glancing at Saul and Dain’s faces, Lilia knew they had drawn the same conclusion.
They had no choice but to press on. Later that day, they would have to decide what to do once night fell, but for now all they could do was focus on the present. Their food reserves were almost exhausted, and they finished the last of their bread and salted pork before emerging into a misty dawn.
Saul squinted up at the circling mist and frowned before turning to Ryana. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I suggest we stop at noon for a spell. I’ll hunt for us, we can build a fire and you can sleep for a bit.”
She shook her head. “We can’t afford to slow down.”
“You can’t go much farther without resting,” he pointed out. “The Brotherhood are no longer an issue—the greatest threat to us reaching the Royal City alive is the darkness. You’re the only one who can protect us from it, but you’re no good to us exhausted.”
Ryana’s gaze met his, her mouth compressing. “Your concern for my welfare is touching.”
Saul raised an eyebrow. “I’m looking out for all of us.”
“He’s right,” Dain spoke up. “We should rest at noon. I’ll light a fire while Saul hunts and you can get some sleep.”
Ryana sighed, and Lilia could see she was too tired to argue. “Very well—let’s get going then.”
They made their way down the mountainside to the Eastern Road, making sure they skirted the edge of the valley where the smoking ruins of The Brotherhood’s encampment lay. None of them had the stomach to see the devastation close up, especially not in the stark light of day.
Instead, they struck out east. The road led them on a winding journey down a vast valley that morning and then up a steep hill on the other side. Lilia found the journey hard work; her muscles were stiff and sore after yesterday’s long walk. Not for the first time she wondered what had happened to their horses, and wished the beasts would reappear to bear them.
By the time mid-morning approached her thighs felt as if they were on fire, her lungs ached and her throat was raw. Sweat ran in rivulets between her shoulder blades and breasts, and her face felt like a beacon.
Still she did not utter a complaint—for she knew the others would be just as tired as she was. Memories of her shadow’s heckling the night before made her even more determined to suffer her discomfort in silence.
The land climbed endlessly before flattening out into a wide ridge. The low cloud had lifted and a chill breeze fanned their heated faces, however the sky was overcast from one horizon to another. Lilia’s cloak flapped around her as she walked, a few steps behind Ryana.
Too tired to speak, she barely noticed the layered folds of hills that stretched away in all directions around her. She concentrated only on placing one foot in front of the other, on keeping up with Ryana’s long stride.
The ridge ended, and they descended a slope covered in lose shale. Here, the land opened up before it dropped into a wide ravine, stretching from east to west. A massive stone bridge spanned the gap.
Lilia had never seen a structure like it. Tall, delicate pillars that seemed to go on forever, plunged down into the floor of the ravine, holding up a narrow bridge that was little more than four yards in width across. A high wall ran along the eastern side of the bridge with a low balustrade on the western edge.
Ryana glanced back at her companions over her shoulder.
“The Bridge of Sorrows,” she announced, the wind whipping away her words as soon as she spoke them.
The name gave Lilia a chill, and she frowned. “Why’s it called that?”
“A great battle was fought here a long time ago, many died and the King of Rithmar had the bridge erected in their memory,” Ryana replied. “Come on.”
She turned away and led them down the hill. They crossed the bridge, the only travelers on this lonely stretch. Halfway across, Lilia chanced a tentative look over the balustrade, her stomach flipping when she saw just how deep the gorge was. She couldn’t imagine how many men it had taken to build something like this. Despite her weariness and her aching back and legs, she was awed.
They reached the far side of the bridge and climbed the gravelly incline toward the road. At the top of the hill, the road went straight for twenty yards, before it forked. The right path was clearly the Eastern Road. Covered in light grey gravel and well-tended, it was obvious travelers used the road often.
The path to the left was another matter. A curtain of dense foliage from trees growing on the hillside above, hung low over the entrance, throwing dark shadows over the hard-packed dirt surface.
Ryana led them right, although her companions all slowed their step; their gazes going to the left path.
“Where does that lead?” Saul asked.
Ryana paused and looked back, her brow furrowing when she saw the three of them had stopped.
“That’s the Ancient Way,” she said, her voice rough with fatigue. “It leads through the Rothian Gap.”
“Why don’t we take it?” Saul asked, meeting her gaze. “Surely, it’s a quicker route through the mountains?”
“It is,” Ryana replied, “but we won’t be taking it. The Ancient Way is forbidden to travelers. No one has passed safely through it in years.”
“Why?” Lilia asked, her skin prickling as she gazed at the overgrown path with morbid fascination.
“The battle I mentioned earlier, ended in the gorge,” Ryana replied. “It was not just a combat of iron, flesh and steel—but of enchantment. After it ended the valley was cursed. No one has travelled it since.”
With that, she turned and strode off down The Eastern Road.
This time, all three of her companions followed without a word of complaint.
By the time noon arrived, they had travelled some distance from The Bridge of Sorrows. Steep mountainsides clad in dark conifers reared up either side of the narrow road, the sky a pale strip overhead.
Ryana sank down to the ground, resting her back against a boulder a few yards away from the road, with her staff lying across her outstretched legs. Her face was ashen, and Lilia was about to ask how she was feeling, when she saw Ryana close her eyes. Moments later, the enchanter was asleep.
True to his word, Saul went off to hunt while Lilia and Dain collected wood for the fire.
It was difficult to search for dry firewood on the steep slopes surrounding the Eastern Road. The ground was mossy and damp, especially after long sunless days. Lilia and Dain had to venture far up the hillside before they found any twigs and branches that were suitable.
Lilia collected wood until she carried a pile so high she could barely see over the top of it. She was about to call out to Dain, who was a few yards ahead, to tell him she was going back to Ryana, when her foot caught under a tree root—and she sprawled forward.
Her twigs and branches scattered and she fell, face down in a growth of moss.
Lilia let out a loud curse, her voice ringing down the mountainside. Moments later, Dain was at her side. He put down his pile of wood. “Are you hurt?”
Lilia shook her head, pushing herself up off the ground. “Just my pride. I should watch where I’m going.”
“Here.” He leaned down and held out his hand. Lilia took it, and he pulled her to her feet. His grip was warm and strong, and she let go of his hand reluctantly.
Brushing herself off, she gave a huff of irritation at her own clumsiness. “I’m lucky you’re here, Dain. It seems I can’t even walk without falling over my own feet.”
He laughed, the sound warm, and she looked up, their gazes meeting.
Suddenly, she was aware how close they were standing. “You’re more capable than you realize,” he said, still smiling. “I think one day you’ll surprise us all—least of all yourself.”
Lilia stared at him, noticing how blue his eyes were, and what a finely molded mouth he had. They continued looking at each other, and Dain’s smile faded. Wordlessly, he reached out, his fingers gently tracing her cheek. His touch sent shivers across her skin.
Lilia’s heart started to race, as panic swamped her. This was what her shadow had taunted her about, the very thing she was afraid of: being alone with Dain.
“We should get—”
Lilia never finished her sentence.
Dain reached out, pulled her hard against him, and kissed her.
Lilia gasped at the suddenness of it, but his lips covered hers. The touch of his mouth unleashed something wild inside her. She gave a soft cry and parted her lips for him.
This was Dain—who had teased her, and flirted with her. For all these months, he’d been within arm’s reach but she’d ignored him.
His taste excited her beyond measure. The feel of his lean, hard body against hers ignited fire in her veins. She kissed him back wildly, her lips bruising with the intensity of it.
“Apologies for the interruption …”
The drawl of a man’s voice shattered Lilia and Dain’s private world.
They sprang apart to find Saul standing a few feet away down the hill. He was holding two dead rabbits by their feet. His face was expressionless.
Mortification flooded through Lilia. How long had he been standing there watching them? Gasping for breath she stepped back from Dain, attempting to regain control. Likewise she could see Dain was struggling to compose himself. He turned his attention to Saul.
“What do you want?”
“I was hoping you’d already gotten a fire started,” he replied, “but I see you’re both busy.”
“We’re heading back there now,” Dain shot back, a snarl in his voice. “Go on ahead—we’ll join you.”
Saul cocked his head, not remotely fazed by Dain’s hostility. Lilia went rigid as she watched the two men lock gazes. However, eventually Saul took a step back. He then turned and walked away without another word.
Lilia inhaled deeply and tried to gather her scattered wits. Her lips still burned from Dain’s kiss, but the moment had been lost—ruined by Saul’s untimely arrival. Embarrassment flooded through her, swiftly followed by regret.
Satisfied that Saul had left, Dain turned his attention back to Lilia. They now stood a couple of feet apart although the heat between them still pulsed. Dain stared at her. His chest rose and fell rapidly as if he had been running.
A wave of need slammed over Lilia, making her knees go weak, but this time she pushed back against it.
“Dain …” she began. “We shouldn’t have … I should go.”
He took a step toward her. “Wait.”
Lilia held a hand out, palm outward, stopping him from coming any closer. This was too overwhelming; it scared her. “No—we can’t take this any further. Please, Dain.”
With that, she turned away from him and started to collect the twigs and branches she’d dropped.