Reign of Shadows (Reign of Shadows, #1)(47)

“I just want you to understand what it’s like out here.”

I knew more than he realized. “You don’t ever wish for better things for yourself?”

“It’s pointless. So few of us can hold on to anything really good in this world.”

“That’s dismal,” I grumbled, for some reason thinking about our almost-kiss. That had felt good to me. “I don’t want to think like that. I want to believe that things can be better.” I had to believe that or what was the point? I might as well turn myself over to Cullan.

“Of course you do. You’re the kind of girl who gives our precious water to a person about to die.”

“Allu is hope for you, isn’t it?”

“I suppose. It should be better than all this. A place without dwellers, but it’s still a place without light. Still dark. You can’t outrun that.”

The corners of my mouth lifted. “The dark isn’t so bad. It’s just the monsters that hide inside it.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s easy to forget sometimes that you can’t see.”

“Don’t apologize. My lack of sight is my advantage. I sense more, hear more, taste more. Perhaps I feel more, too. I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I suppose that’s impossible to know. I don’t know what you’re feeling, after all.”

“Maybe you do feel more than me,” he allowed. “I’m sure you’re more capable in that area than I am.”

My steps faltered as he continued on ahead. I opened my mouth, wanting to tell him that I didn’t believe that of him. Not anymore.

His actions spoke loud enough for me. Everything he had done for me since we first met proved that he was someone who felt deeply. He wouldn’t risk himself again and again, if he felt nothing.

I said none of this. Instead, I held silent and followed in his wake.





TWENTY-TWO


Fowler


THE NEXT FEW days passed uneventfully. The closer we approached Ortley, the denser the forest grew. Thick trees crowded around us, each one so large it looked like it belonged in a land of giants. It would take several men, arms stretched wide, to circle the width of these trees. They were tall, too, stretching up into the night-dark sky, branches tangling together and pushing out what little light crept down from the moon.

Every once in a while, we roamed slightly off course until I caught a glimpse of the moon in the sky and marked its position, steering us back in the right direction.

The terrain deepened the risk. There was no sighting of dwellers across the distance in this massive crush of trees. We strictly relied on hearing. Which meant I relied on Luna a great deal more. If a dweller came too close, I would dispatch it. Fortunately we were never surprised by more than one at a time.

I stole a glance at her. Her expression was peaceful. She moved her head as though looking around her, as though she could appreciate the wonder of these magical woods.

We whispered often, sharing bits of ourselves. I didn’t fight it anymore. I answered her questions. It was easier letting myself get distracted with conversation than thinking about Anselm and Gunner and their bag of heads.

And yet thoughts of them intruded. As well as the idea of arriving at Ortley and what could happen to Luna. The possibilities settled like rocks in my stomach. There would be men like Anselm and Gunner there. There were always men like them. If they even caught a whiff that she was a girl they’d kill her. There would be other unsavory types, as well, that called themselves humans. If they realized Luna was blind—whether they knew she was a girl or not—they’d mark her as an easy target.

I was already debating hiding her in the woods and going into the village by myself. There would be too many people there. The risk of her gender being uncovered was too high. If I could bypass Ortley I would, but there wouldn’t be another outpost for a long time. We needed to stop. I’d gather new supplies, including the much-lauded kelp.

“I smell water,” Luna murmured, pulling me from my thoughts. She walked at my side. Since the orchard, she stayed close.

I glanced up at the moon through a crack in the labyrinth of branches and the sight served as confirmation.

“That would be the lake outside Ortley. We’re close.” I halted her with a hand on her arm and released a heavy breath, rubbing at the back of my neck.

She lifted her face up to me. I knew she wasn’t going to like what I was about to say. “Perhaps I should go into the village on my own.”

She looked stricken for a moment, and then her expression cleared into a neutral mask. “You’re leaving me out here?”

“We’ll find someplace safe for you to hole up—”

“Are you coming back?”

I stared at her, stunned. “You still think I would leave you?”

“You never wanted me along.”

“I’m not abandoning you,” I replied quickly.

She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging her body. “I’m sorry. I know that—I just don’t want to stay out here alone.”

Almost in response, a dweller cried in the far-off distance. The sound was common enough and far enough away that it hardly even made me flinch.

“Luna, there will be soldiers there. To say nothing of mercenaries . . . desperate people who would do anything for a month’s ration. If anyone realizes you’re—”