Trial For The Shadow King (Captive 0f Shadows Book 2) Read online

  He purses his lips and faces the forest. “I’d say ‘bout two miles east of ‘ere,” he guesses. “Follow the path in the forest and ye canna miss it.”

  We leave the man to tame his garden. I can feel his curious eyes on us as we retreat to the main road. Willem stares at the forest as the sun beats down on us. "It's a good lead," he says.

  I nod. “Agreed. We’ll go there now.”

  “Now?” Aiden sighs, stretching his arms over his head. “Couldn’t we take a break? We’ve been canvassing all morning – and some of us didn’t get much sleep.”

  I eye Willem and he glowers at me. “This fool came waltzing into the room at dawn, woke me up.”

  At his words, Briar gasps softly before falling into a coughing fit. I stop and turn, looking at her with concern. Briar doubles over, her face flushed as she coughs into her sleeve. “Are you alright?” I ask, lifting a tentative hand towards her.

  “She’s fine.” Aiden grins, slapping her on the back.

  Briar quiets, but she doesn't brush Aiden off as I expected her to. I cock my head, interest piqued. Briar glances up, furtively meeting my gaze. My lips quirk up into a dangerous smile, and she drops her eyes to the ground, pretending to recover from the coughing fit. She's been avoiding me all morning and I wonder if it has something to do with last night. I sent her upstairs before she could witness the fight. Perhaps she worries we killed them all or maimed them. Perhaps she worries I could one day do the same to her.

  “Things de-escalated after you went upstairs last night,” I say, hoping that will help. “There was no fight. No one was harmed.”

  “Oh,” Briar says. She chews on her bottom lip, clearly lost in thought.

  “All thanks to me,” Aiden boasts genially, winking.

  Willem heads through the alley towards the forest, dirt crunching beneath his boots. I hang back and fall into step beside Briar. She seems to shrink a little, tucking her arms close to her side as if she doesn’t dare touch me. Aiden tucks his hands in his pockets, whistling. I flare my eyes at him, silently urging him to give us some privacy but Aiden merely winks. I roll my eyes at him, tempted to send a shadow his way to whip at his heels. Instead, I coax the darkness around his ears, muffling his hearing. I grin as Aiden’s head whips towards me, eyes sparked with anger. Huffing, he jogs towards Willem and joins the Reaper. When he’s out of earshot, I pull the shadows back, releasing the magic. Briar looks nervous, her eyes darting between the ground, me, and my brother.

  “Something the matter?” I ask coldly. She lifts her chin towards me and shakes her head defiantly. Only in the light do I notice the purple bags beneath her eyes. “You didn’t sleep.”

  Her face falls into shadow as we reach the tree line, leaving the village behind. “I had nightmares,” she says and I can hear the despair in her voice.

  Leaves and branches snap under our footsteps as we walk the overgrown path. We're shoulder to shoulder, clustered by the narrow confines. Briar's scent mingles with the fresh pine of the woods, and I take a deep, long breath. "What was the subject of your nightmares?" I ask, holding a branch aside for her.

  "My mother," she says as she ducks. Her tired eyes cut through me, and I can feel a sudden flash of her anger.

  “I never did take you to her,” I say. She doesn’t react. “What was your mother doing in the dream?”

  Briar's voice is hoarse when she answers as if she's in deep pain. "She was dying. Endlessly dying. Pained. Screaming. It was her last days alive, playing over and over in my mind."

  I exhale softly, sensing what’s coming next. It’s always the same with mortals. They don’t understand the intricacies of death – don’t see how it can be such a mercy. All it is to them is pain and suffering. And they always ask why. Briar is no different, but I never expected her to be. Of course, she’s in pain. I wonder just how long a mortal needs before death doesn’t hurt so much anymore. “I’m sorry,” I say, interrupting the silence hanging between us.

  “Why?” Briar asks suddenly, whirling on me. “Why didn’t you save her? My father called for you – I called for you, Kane. But you never came.”

  I freeze, a sudden chill sweeping over me when her voice cracks with sorrow. My jaw is tight, eyes wide. I expected this question. But I didn’t expect her pain. The human element. My fingers twitch, but I resist the urge to pull her into my chest and comfort her. I doubt that’s what she wants from me right now, anyway. Briar looks at me coldly, expectantly. Her gray eyes, normally so clear, are rimmed with red as she holds back tears.

  “Briar,” I murmur, speaking calmly. “I gave your mother an extra sixteen years with you. She was meant to die on the night of your birth.” Briar stiffens, cheeks splotchy with color. “I couldn’t have given her any more time than I already had.”

  “Why?” She rushes away, speaking over her shoulder. Anger rolls off of her in waves.

  “Because there’s an order to the world – to nature.” I catch up with her in a few long strides.

  “But it was me asking – your future bride,” Briar spits out. She says the word like it left a foul taste in her mouth.

  I grind my teeth in frustration. Her mother was never going to live long, her body was sick and had been for some time. But I know that won’t put Briar at ease. It may make things worse. “I couldn’t do it, Briar,” I say, taking her arm and tugging her to a stop.

  She resists for a moment before she pivots to face me. I catch her wrist in my free hand before her palm connects with my cheek. She’s breathing hard, chest heaving, cheeks flushed. “You’re Death,” she whispers. “It’s your own dominion.”

  “I heard you calling,” I lie. “But my duty is to keep a balance in the world, not to do as I please. If I spared one person, suddenly I would be expected to spare everyone. As difficult as it is to accept, it couldn’t have been any other way.”

  Briar's lips tremble, and I see the mask of fury threatening to fall. She pulls out of my grasp and rushes down the path. I follow, refusing to let her out of my sight in this forest. But I leave distance between us, knowing that even my presence causes her pain. I can feel it through the bond like my heart is being torn into a thousand pieces. And it hurts more than anything I've ever felt.

  Suddenly, the forest opens up into a broad clearing. Saplings are growing in the meadow, their trunks as tall as me and wiry. In the center, a sprawling structure lies. Huge blocks of stones have collapsed from the highest tower and the rooftop, permanent features of the clearing and props for wild grasses. Vines crawl up the gray stone and into broken windows. Briar stops in her tracks, and I feel a rush of trepidation from her. The fortress is imposing and wholly unwelcoming.

  “Shall we catch ourselves a Nephilim?” Willem asks with a wicked grin.

  “It’s huge,” Aiden complains. “It will take all day to search.”

  He’s right, I concede silently. By nightfall, I want to be far away from this fortress. “We split into two groups, it will go faster that way. Aiden go with Willem. He’ll keep an eye on you.”

  “Great,” Willem groans.

  “Do I have to?” Aiden frowns. “I’d rather stay with Briar.”

  “Let’s get going, we should be back at the inn by nightfall,” I say, ignoring him.

  We enter the gaping hole that once served as the grand entrance to the fort together. The main chamber isn’t large, but the ceiling stretches high enough that our voices and footsteps echo loudly. I run my tongue over my teeth, worried that the Nephilim might hear us as we search. I can only hope he’s too exhausted or high on mortal souls to notice. Bringing Briar wasn’t wise, but I certainly wasn’t going to leave her alone at the inn. I don’t want her out of my sight while in the mortal realm.

  “Quietly,” I whisper, eyeing Aiden.

  He rolls his eyes, but I don’t hear his movements as he and Willem take the left hall. Briar and I turn to the right, following the crumbling staircase upwards to the second floor of the tower. “Step where I step,” I murmur to Briar,
meeting her gaze.

  She furrows her brows and nods tightly. She’s still angry – and she has a right to be. I won’t deprive her of that. I ascend lightly, careful to test the stone steps before putting my full weight on them. I want to be certain Briar won’t fall. Soberly, Briar and I pick our way up the stairs. At the top, I brush aside a cobweb and stare into the shadows. It will difficult for Briar to see. I consider taking her hand, but I suspect she’ll refuse it. Her eyes will just have to adjust. I start forward after ensuring the room is clear. It’s a small chamber, doors on each wall leading into rooms beyond.

  Behind me, Briar curses as she trips over some of the rubble and broken furniture. I grin softly, amused by the foul word escaping her sweet lips. A cold wind howls through the fortress, sounding like a ghostly moan. Briar freezes behind me and I can smell her sudden fear. It smells delicious. I slip into the next room, eyes scanning over the space for any sign of the Nephilim. The wall on the right has a massive fireplace, piles of ashes still dirtying the hearth. Ratted and broken chairs obscure my view, and I circle the room cautiously.

  Suddenly, Briar screams and my hair stands on end at the sound.

  She isn’t with me.

  “Briar?” I call, whirling around.

  I leap over the furniture, rushing back into the hall. Her heartbeat and scent lead me across it, into a room I hadn't explored yet. And all of a sudden I feel my own dark fear making my heart hammer. Claws extended and shadows at my heels, I sprint towards the door. Warning bells ring as I approach and I skid to a halt at the last moment. An inch from the tip of my boot, the floor ends. It probably collapsed years ago from rot. In the darkness, I can make Briar out. She screams again, scrambling backward. A sharp sob echoes towards me, but it's not sorrow – it's fear. Pure and raw and electrifying. But this time, it feels devastating.

  “Briar?” I shout.

  “Kane,” she cries, her voice warbling. “Oh, Gods, Kane, get me out of here!”

  “I’m coming, stay calm,” I say, trying to sound reassuring.

  She cries, breath hitching with each sob. I drop down to the ground below, using my magic to cushion the fall. I land in a crouch, eyes locked on her as she huddles in a corner. The first thing I notice is the stench. I cover my nose with sleeve and take a step towards Briar. The floor squishes sickeningly beneath my foot, and I pause. For a moment, I drag my eyes away from Briar to take in the rest of the room. It's littered with corpses in varying stages of rot. Briar must have landed on some when she fell, cushioning the fall for her.

  My lips pinch with fury and concern as I pick my way through the piles of corpses towards her. Their throats have been cut or twisted. The Nephilim wasn't interested in keeping the empty mortals. Her eyes are wide, tears streaked down her cheek. She clamps her hand over her mouth to muffle another cry as I shove corpses aside. Maggots and rats scurry out of their bodies. Gaping, empty eye sockets bore into me. Their faces are frozen in masks of pain and fear. Noses gone chewed off by scavengers or rotted away by time.

  Briar reaches out for me, her fingers shaking. I take her hand and rush towards her. The nearest corpse is a mere foot from her, but she doesn’t seem to have noticed this one. I push her head into my chest, hiding the gruesome view from her. Her body trembles violently and I pick a bit of flesh from her cloak before she notices. Willem and Aiden burst into the room, the door slamming open and bashing into another corpse.

  “Shit,” Aiden curses, reeling back.

  Willem’s eyes widen for an instant with surprise before he recovers. “There’s at least twenty bodies in here.”

  "Are you alright?" I ask Briar quietly, stroking her head. She shakes her head sharply, and I feel her fist my shirt in her hands desperately. "I'll get you out of here. Keep your eyes closed."

  Briar nods and takes a rattling breath. I sweep her into my arms with ease and hold her close to my chest. She inhales sharply when I scoop her up, but she keeps her eyes tightly closed. I feel a rush of heat as she wraps her arms around my neck, burrowing her face into my chest. Carefully, I weave between the corpses or step over them. I squeeze through a narrow gap, feeling a rotted hand brush over the back of my neck. I inhale sharply through my teeth, disgusted. Willem and Aiden step aside when I reach the doorway. I lower Briar onto the nearby staircase and she pulls her knees into her chest with her eyes tightly closed.

  “They’ve been there for some time,” I say, turning back to Willem and Aiden.

  “At least a week,” Willem agrees.

  “Which means he’s moved on,” I sigh, rubbing my jaw tiredly. “But where?”

  “Verstad,” Briar mumbles. I turn, brows furrowed with concern as she looks up. She doesn’t look towards the room of corpses. “He would go to Verstad.”

  “What is that?” Aiden asks.

  Willem folds his arms over his chest and sighs. “The capitol of Nordsk. It’s a few day’s ride from this village.”

  “They noticed him here,” Briar continues, her voice gaining strength. “But they won’t notice him in Verstad.”

  Chapter 8

  Briar

  It’s been almost five years since I last visited Verstad, and I only saw a small portion of the city as we drove through the main thoroughfare to the palace. This is not what I remembered. Instead of clean stonework and stained-glass windows, the buildings in this quarter of Verstad are built of mismatched wood and warped glass, with old thatching for roofs. The nicer buildings have wooden shingles, but even those are misshapen and old.

  Gray clouds seem to hang perpetually over this quarter, heavy and sodden with rain that refuses to fall. The streets are damp from the clouds and fog. Gutters run along the sides, steaming with human waste and filth. I watch from the overhang of the inn as children bound along the streets, pausing to beg for coins from travelers. I tug up the hood of the cloak as the children's sharp eyes pass over me. They don't stop and disappear into one of the many alleys. But they're only one of several bands of street children I've seen. They would be the easiest targets for the Nephilim. But Kane believes the Nephilim would only be interested in adults – after all, we found no children in the fortress outside the village.

  I shudder thinking of the room. Countless stinking corpses all around me. I was so frightened; their rotting faces were all I could see. I know tonight, it will be all I dream of. The door behind me creaks open, and a woman slips out. She brushes against me, tossing a glare over her shoulder as I step aside to make room for her. I step off the raised doorway and into the street, careful to avoid the gutter. Biting my lip, I glance around for Kane to reappear. He left me in the relative shelter of the doorway while he searched for a place for us to lodge. But he's been gone for some time now, and my stomach is in knots.

  Once the woman clears the doorway, I duck back into it, shoulders hunched. The people here scowl more often than they smile, and they never speak except to curse at me. I pluck at the hem of my cloak nervously, wearing at a thread. Suddenly, I see Kane’s black hair above the crowd. He stands at least half a head taller than most, and the women gawk at him as he passes. I feel a burn of jealousy in my gut as some of the women titter. He doesn’t belong to me, I chide myself. Even if he did, I should only feel hatred for him. But he held me so sweetly when he took me out of that room of horrors. And he offered me one of his cold shadows to comfort me when no one could see.

  I dig my nails into my palm fiercely. It doesn’t matter what little acts of kindness he does. My promise to my father remains. My eyes haven’t left Kane since I noticed him. He meets my gaze stoically, as cold as he always is unless he’s angry. He ducks his head to avoid hitting it on the low-hanging gable over the doorway. In the small space, his shoulder presses up against mine, and I can feel the chill emanating from him.

  “I found an inn that I think will be suitable,” he says gruffly, eyes on the street. “Have you noticed anything?”

  I shake my head. “I saw some men leave another man in an alley, beaten, but I don’t think it
had anything to do with the Nephilim.”

  “Beaten?” His brows raise. “And you did nothing?”

  “Three against one?” I ask defensively, but guilt pools in my gut. “No one else did anything.”

  “I didn’t think you were like anyone else,” he says evenly, but his words are like a knife. “Let’s go.”

  Wordlessly, I follow him out of the doorway and onto the street. I follow in his wake, trailing the tall, lithe God. He leads me deeper into the poor quarter, and slowly the streets grow busier – rowdier. My lungs are tight as we slip through the crowd. Women linger on the corners, half-dressed and red-lipped. Men jostle back and forth while men and women hock their wares along the streets. Children dart in between the crowds, fingers glinting with coin they slip from pockets. I tighten my cloak around myself, eyes wide with nerves. I’ve never been anywhere like this before, even with guards.

  “Hold on to me,” Kane orders, reaching back with his hand.

  I stare at his long fingers, suddenly unsure of myself. Kane sighs impatiently and snatches my hand, holding it tightly. His fingers are cold, but oddly comforting despite the chill. I try to stop my heart from fluttering, but I can’t seem to be able to. For a moment, I relax into his grip and our fingers lace together. Beyond my own contentment and confusion, I feel uncertainty – but it isn’t like mine. Mine is tainted with thoughts of guilt from my true purpose. But this, this feels like someone in denial. I stare at Kane, brows furrowed. He looks thoughtful and focused. A beard is starting to darken his jaw, but it only adds to his allure.

  “Watch out,” Kane says sharply, tugging me into his side as a man lumbers past.

  I turn, barely avoiding being bowled over by the stranger. “Thanks,” I breathe, hand on my chest.

  Kane's arm slips around my shoulders easily, and he glowers at the man. "Bastard," Kane snaps.

  He doesn’t release me, using his grip to pull me in and out of his chest to avoid more run-ins. I don’t try to push away from him – I know it won’t do any good. But mostly, I know I don’t want to pull away. I like the feeling of being near him, feeling safe. But it almost makes my body thrum pleasantly. Soon, he turns, taking us towards the largest building on the block. It's made of stone, with new shingles on the roof and small windows. A woman dressed in a loud pink dress and a silk shawl stands outside the door. She winks at Kane as we approach. I stare at her curiously, and she sweeps her hand towards the door, welcoming us.