Reign of Shadows (Reign of Shadows, #1)(19)

I looked around the room. A sick boy. An old woman. A scared, weeping Dagne. And Luna, a blind girl even if she was the most capable of them all. I choked out a dry, humorless laugh. If they lost Sivo, how well would they fare? And for how much longer?

Luna pressed her lips into a tight, mutinous line. “What’s so amusing? Our request for help? Or that we’re even attempting to save his life?”

She didn’t know me. Not at all. I could say yes.

Her chin lifted a notch. It was uncanny, as though she read my thoughts and was challenging me to go against my avowal to leave this place . . . my determination to live a selfish existence.

“I’ll go.”





NINE


Fowler


I SLIPPED OUT a little before midlight, knowing that the task would take more than a full hour. I’d rather be making my way in the dark at the beginning of this errand than at the end.

I studied the sky and then glanced around, feeling that familiar restless energy. The air always felt this way moments before midlight—when all manner of life, animal and man, was ready to burst free, and roam freely in the brief window of time that dwellers went to ground.

A snap sounded behind me.

I whirled, lifting my bow. I waited, staring into the gloom, my gaze darting over the terrain of trees and brush.

I held myself still, ears straining.

No other sound came. I didn’t hear the sloughing, wet breath of a dweller. No dragging steps. Not even the rotting, loamy odor that signaled they were close.

A shape materialized, only slightly less dark than the ink of night. I pulled my arrow taut, the pull of string a sweet, faintly audible creak near my ear.

“Don’t shoot.”

A shock wave rippled through me. “Luna?”

She stopped before me. She was garbed in trousers again.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, my voice a low hiss.

“Coming with you.” She actually smiled.

“No. You’re not.”

She propped a hand on her hip. “It looks like I already am.”

I lowered my bow and pointed beyond her. Shaking my head, I realized the motion was lost on her. I dropped my hand. “Go back.”

“No,” she answered evenly. “We’ve already covered this much ground, and it’s almost midlight. Why send me back now?”

“Why are you even here? I said I would fetch the nisan—”

“Because we need to know where it grows. After you leave, we may have need of it again.”

“And you couldn’t have pointed that bit of logic out sooner? So Sivo could have joined me and not you?”

At this, her smile broadened. “I could have.”

“You said nothing deliberately.”

She shrugged a thin shoulder. “I need to know these things for myself, too. I can’t rely on Sivo for everything.”

I cursed. She blinked as though my colorful speech was something new, and I supposed it was. Her guardians had spent all these years sheltering her.

I sighed and dragged a hand through my hair, scanning the horizon. She was right though. They wouldn’t be around forever. What would become of her?

I ignored the voice inside that reminded me this wasn’t my problem and snapped, “Fine.”

She smiled again, her lips curving wide to reveal bone-white teeth. “Stop smiling so much,” I grumbled, turning away.

She followed close behind me, moving noiselessly. “You walk like you’re part of the night.” The words escaped me like an accusation. It didn’t make sense to me. How could a sightless girl be so proficient at maneuvering this terrain?

“I am part of it,” she replied. “Aren’t you?”

“I’m not a part of anything.” Not anymore. I started to think about those days when I was, but stopped myself from going there. I wasn’t that boy anymore. I couldn’t be him ever again.

“Will you be a part of Allu?”

My reply was immediate. “I have to be.”

“But what if you’re not? What if it’s not like you think?”

I held silent at the question, letting it drape over the night, sinking into the dark abyss through which we waded.

“How do you even know that place is real?” she pressed.

“Allu exists. It’s on every map. It’s always been there.”

“Yes, I’m aware. I’ve studied my geography and history. But how do you know it’s free of dwellers?”

I hesitated before saying, “It’s all I’ve ever heard. Everything I’ve ever been told. That gives some weight to the stories.”

“Have you met anyone who’s ever actually been there? And returned to tell of it?”

“Who would ever wish to come back once they reached Allu? Why would they risk themselves?” It was ironic hearing myself use Bethan’s logic. She had been chipping away at my resolve near the end. I had started making plans for us to leave. A bitter irony now that it was too late for her.

“Hm.” There was a wealth of meaning in that single sound. She doubted. Just as I once had. “Childhood is full of fairy tales. I had my share, too. What makes yours real?”

“I knew someone,” I snapped. “She believed. She convinced me.” And yet her faith hadn’t been enough.