Kelley Armstrong - Sea of Shadows

When she stumbled, Gavril grabbed her cloak, but she’d already recovered. She’d simply tripped in surprise as the forest opened into a small clearing.

They didn’t have a lantern. The only illumination was that sickly gray moonlight. But when Moria stepped into that clearing, she could see, and what she saw was blood.

It was everywhere. Small pools on the moss underfoot. Droplets coating the ferns and saplings. More dripping from leaves.

Moria stood in the middle and turned in a slow circle.

“It can’t be,” she whispered.

“It is.”

She shook her head. “That’s not possible. There’s so…” Her voice hitched. “So much.”

Daigo butted against Moria’s legs, growling under his breath.

“Your cat is right,” Gavril said. “You should get back to Ashyn. Levi and Oswald are—”

He stopped. She turned to see him staring down at a patch of brush. In it, she could see a boot, so polished the leather shone in the faint light.

“Do you like them?” Levi asked, pointing at his boots.

“They’re very… shiny.”

“The best your father could procure. My family sent me money, and they said I ought to spend it on my uniform. Father says it makes an impression, and I need to do that if I’m going to advance—”

She grabbed him by the tunic and pulled him into a kiss, mostly just to make him stop talking, but ever after that, he was convinced it was the boots, and wore them even in the summer’s heat, always polished to a gleam.

Now she looked down at that boot, at his leg above it, at the blood—

Gavril pulled her back, his grip so tight it hurt. She tried to pull away.

“I need to make sure he’s—”

“I will.” He yanked her behind him as he checked. “He’s dead.”

Beside her, Daigo let out a strangled yowl. Moria dropped her hand to his head to comfort him.

“We need to go,” Gavril said.

She nodded and returned to her sister.

Whatever was in the forest let the four of them leave. Even the path was open and clear, almost… helpful. That made Moria uneasy. What could she say, though? That some Keeper instinct told her she shouldn’t leave? Daigo understood. He kept up that low, growling hum as they walked.

We should find out what’s in here. That’s my job. To fight, not to flee.

But flee she did. She had to. Get Ashyn to safety. Tell the village what had happened. Then go back in. Find survivors— or the bodies. That was the sensible order of things.

“The sun,” Ashyn whispered. “At last.”

Moria looked up to see shafts of sunlight piercing the canopy.

“I see the second watchtower,” Ashyn said.

As Moria passed, Ronan caught the back of her cloak. She spun, but Gavril was faster, knocking the boy’s hand off her.

Ronan glowered. “I was getting her attention, Kitsune.”

“My name is Gavril. If you wish to speak to her, use words. You do not touch the Keeper. Not if you’d like to keep your hands intact.” He turned to Moria. “Call out a greeting. To warn the guards.”

“So they can come and kill me?” Ronan said. “No one survives the forest. Do you know why? Because you don’t allow—”

“ We have nothing to do with it.” Ashyn’s voice was soft, but it silenced him. She turned to Moria. “There was another survivor. The governor said he was infected, and the guards killed him.”

“He was not infected,” Ronan said.

“Did he seem to be?” Moria pressed.

“He did not,” Ashyn said after a moment.

Moria turned back to Ronan. “You can tell the rest of your story to the commander. I will make sure you are allowed to do so. If they claim you are infected, I will ensure that you are properly quarantined.” She cleared her throat and called to the guards.

Ronan was being taken into the prison cells where they kept the damned, when conditions weren’t right for the exile journey. Clearly he wasn’t pleased.

“Think of it as quarantine,” she said as they climbed down the ladder to the subterranean cells.

Ronan shot a look at the dripping earthen ceiling, then down at the scattering rats.

“At least the vermin are running,” she said. “We had some in the livestock sheds that weren’t afraid of man or beast. They bit a farmer, and we realized they were infected with the fever. They’re gone now, though. Just vanished. We’ve always wondered where they…” She looked at the fleeing rodents. “Oh.”

Ronan jerked back as if bitten. The guards laughed.

“She’s having fun with you, boy,” one said.

“Of course I am,” Moria said. “We’d hardly quarantine you someplace with infected rats. Although that would be rather clever, in a diabolical way….”

Being sent down here was partially his own fault anyway. When the commander had asked about his crimes, he’d said nothing. So they had no idea how dangerous he was.

The guards reached the cells. They waved Ronan into the first one.

Two of the guards had left; only the third remained, taking up his post at a chair in the hall. The cell had a heavy wooden door, reinforced with metal, only two window squares cut in it—a low one for passing food and drink, and a higher one to see the occupant.

When Moria and Daigo began to withdraw, Ronan moved to the window and said, “What do you think the search party will report back?”

I’m not sure they will report back. She was trying not to think of that. She was already furious with the commander for sending a party of warriors to search for survivors. At the very least, she should go with them, using her power to protect the men. But the commander was convinced what they faced was not shadow stalkers, but exiles who’d survived.

“You’re worried about the Kitsune boy going back in there,” Ronan said when she didn’t answer.

“Gavril isn’t going…” She caught his expression and said slowly, “What do you mean?”

“The commander sent him. He needed someone who’d been in there.”

Moria’s hand grasped the damp wood of the door to steady herself. “When did he say that?”

“While you were talking to your father, after everything was decided.”

Moria turned and ran before he could say another word.

There was nothing Moria could do. Gavril was gone, and she couldn’t leave Ashyn and their father behind to go after him. All she could do was help her sister perform the rituals of spiritual protection. Moria didn’t know what good they would do against shadow stalkers, but they had to try.

Moria also appealed to the spirits for guidance. This was an emergency. Surely the rules did not apply. But there was no answer. She’d barely felt the spirits since returning to the village. Were they angry with the girls for not stopping what had happened in the forest?

After dinner, their father had to attend a village meeting. Once he’d left, the girls took food to the prisoner. Ashyn also brought a box of stones to play black-and-white. They could not enter Ronan’s cell—it merely latched on their side, but the guards would not permit them to open the door. They had to pass the food through the hatch, then set out the game board in the hall, with Ronan watching through his window and calling his moves.

When Ronan had said he wasn’t very good at the game, Moria had insisted Ashyn play against him. Her sister was a master strategist and would win the game quickly, so they could leave. But the boy had lied. Shocking, truly, for a criminal.

It was not, then, a short game. Worse, as it stretched on, he decided he wanted to talk—to Moria. She tried to dissuade him by sharpening her blade. When he didn’t take the hint, she used a piece of rock to draw on the door of the farthest cell, and began target practice.