Reign of Shadows (Reign of Shadows, #1)(38)

Luna seemed to sense the change, too, and not simply in the terrain. She sensed it in me. Her expression became more pensive and her face repeatedly turned in my direction as though she was seeking something from me—something I couldn’t give her.

More than once, she had made me feel like who I used to be. I couldn’t be that person anymore. I couldn’t get lost in her smiles or her voice or her touch on my skin. I definitely couldn’t get lost in her lips. Not if I wanted to keep us both alive.

A bat swell passed, obscuring the sky for a few moments, hiding the glow of the moon.

Luna didn’t even glance up to the sky. She simply kept moving.

I frowned. She was different from that girl I first met in the tower. It was bound to happen. Out here, no one went untouched.

She fell in beside me and I spared her a glance. I reached out as though to touch her, but stopped short. There was no need. I didn’t want to witness her break. I didn’t want her to turn into this twisted, hardened scrap of what she used to be.

I didn’t want her to be me.

“We’ve left the forest,” she stated more than asked, biting her lip. It was a nervous habit of hers. She did it often, drawing my stare to her mouth. I dragged my gaze away and scrubbed a hand over my face. That mouth was my hell. I’d almost kissed it. Her. Or perhaps she had almost kissed me. Whoever was to blame, it had almost happened. And it couldn’t happen again.

Together like this, fighting for our lives, it was a natural urge, but one that would only prove distracting. The last thing I wanted was to give her a false idea of what we were to each other. She was the kind of girl who believed in love even in this bleak life.

“Yes, we have,” I answered, my voice curt even to my own ears.

“It smells differently,” she whispered.

I hesitated before asking, “How so?”

“Cleaner somehow.”

“Less rotting vegetation. And greater winds.”

Things weren’t going to be as simple anymore. The risks and dangers were greater now. With the Black Woods behind us, there would be more dwellers and more people. The wind howled in the vastness, and the lack of any other sound made my skin prickle. Even the smallest animal knew to make itself scarce out here, or at least the art of making itself invisible and unheard.

Another light rain started, drumming all around us as we moved forward in the gloom. It didn’t leave us soaking wet, but the clammy damp of our clothes sticking to skin could hardly be called comfortable.

Her plaits hung over her shoulder in heavy skeins, and her normally pale skin practically glowed like moonstone in the near dark. Her collarbones stood out above the neckline of her bodice and dark shadows smudged the skin under her eyes like bruises. Something inside me twisted at the sight. She really needed to eat more. And rest more.

I faced forward again as we left the dense foliage farther and farther behind, gripping my bow at the ready as we walked into a maw of wasteland that had once been working fields.

I hesitated, scanning the horizon, searching for any woods to pass through that would offer some protection. The skyline loomed ahead, a dark gray plain etched against the moonlit sky. There was no easy way around it. We’d have to cross straight through that open space. Our boots crunched over short, withered-up stalks of sugarcane that even the rain hadn’t helped to moisten.

Every crunching step made me cringe. I wanted nothing more than to be off this deadened field and onto softer ground. Quieter ground.

I continued to scan the barren landscape, peering as far as I could into the stretch of nothingness. I flexed my grip around my bow.

In the distance, the outline of a copse of trees materialized against the dark. “This way,” I murmured, nodded as though she could see my gesture.

Shaking my head, I led her across the field. As we drew closer, I could see that a small farmer’s hut backed against the copse. The crank on the old, dilapidated well turned in the breeze.

“Do you hear that?” Her hand fell on my arm.

I stopped, listening.

“It’s a voice.” Her head whipped back and forth from me to the cottage. “Someone’s in there.”

My gaze narrowed on the cottage. It looked abandoned. The windows dark, gaping holes. The door was ajar, hanging off a broken hinge.

“There it is again. Someone is in trouble inside there.”

I tensed, aiming my arrow at the hut. I didn’t hear anything, but I knew to trust her in this.

She huffed in frustration and lunged ahead, quick as a darting hare.

“Luna!” I dropped my bow and tried to grab her back, but she was too fast.

Swinging my bow over my shoulder, I took off after her, reaching her just as she crossed the threshold.





NINETEEN


Luna


THE MAN WAS in the middle of the room. He reeked of sweat and blood. I could even detect the acrid sting of fear. He was still whispering in that pitiable voice that first alerted me to him. “Help . . . help . . . me,” he pleaded between labored pants of breath.

I stepped forward to reach him, but Fowler’s hand fell hard on my arm. “What are you doing?”

“He needs help.” I waved in his general direction.

“You can’t just go charging into every situation, Luna.”

“I charged into your situation, did I not? Do you regret that?”