Kelley Armstrong: Sea of Shadows

Most people in the empire believed that the box canyon explained how the forest had survived the Age of Fire—that the lava had simply run around it. As Ashyn knew from her books, that wasn’t true.

When the volcanos erupted, everyone fled or died under the flood of lava. After it cooled and hardened, they returned and found the Forest of the Dead, now ringed by stone, as if some invisible force had shielded it and the lava had flowed upward, forming walls around the wilderness.

Ashyn had always looked on those canyon walls and seen safety. They kept the forest inside. They kept the damned and their vengeful spirits inside. And now, for the first time in her life, she was going inside.

“Everyone comes back.”

Ashyn turned to see Moria there, having snuck up unnoticed as the others milled about, preparing to go. Ashyn looked up at Gavril in the tower. Even from that distance, she could see his hawkish gaze fixed on her sister.

“I’m tempted to run into the forest, shrieking and cackling, just to see what he’d do.” Moria waggled her foot over an imaginary line. Gavril scowled and turned away to look out over the forest.

“As I was saying, everyone comes back,” Moria said. “Every Seeker. Every hound. Every volunteer. Every guard. They do their duty and they return, and all is well. You can’t tell me that every Seeker has been perfect. They must make mistakes. It doesn’t matter. I’m not even sure if the rituals matter at all. It is a kindness to the spirits of the damned, but would they truly rise up and attack? If it’s never happened before, I’ll wager it can’t.”

“Don’t be blasphemous, Rya.”

“If you don’t fret, I’ll not say scandalous things.” Moria paused. “Which would be rather difficult, but since I’m quite certain you’ll never stop fretting, I do believe I’m safe.”

Ashyn threw her arms around her sister so abruptly that Moria let out a yip of surprise. Ashyn smiled and hugged her until that rigid steel melted and Moria embraced her, whispering, “You’re ready, Ash. I know you are.”

Ashyn hung there feeling her sister’s arms around her, wishing she didn’t have to leave. Then the governor cleared his throat, and she opened her eyes to see her father, back by the path’s edge, waving that Ashyn needed to go and Moria needed to come back.

“Off with you, then,” Moria said as they parted. “Tova? Watch out for her. Or I’ll set Daigo on you.”

Ashyn wasn’t sure which beast looked more affronted. She managed a laugh, pushed her sister toward their father, and joined the party as it headed into the forest.

As a Seeker, Ashyn was as much a part of Edgewood as the village wall, and no more able to leave. Yet she read books from every part of the empire. She knew what a forest ought to be like. There ought to be burbling streams and twittering birds. Rabbit and deer tracks should crisscross every path. If you were lucky—and quiet—you might catch a glimpse of a wolf or a wildcat. The air ought to strum with the very energy of life.

There was none of that in the Forest of the Dead. No birds. No rabbits or deer. No wolves or wildcats. Even insects didn’t buzz past. She’d heard it was like this, but now, experiencing it was something different altogether.

She gazed up at the trees. They were lush and rich, covered in vibrant, green leaves and moss. Yet when she touched one, the bark was as cold and dead as the lava rock of the Wastes.

Some said there was life deep in the forest—twisted life, revealing itself only in a flash of fur or feather or scale. Even when Seeking parties spotted more, they could never quite say what they’d seen. Her sister swore those parties had seen not living things but monsters. Shadow stalkers and death worms and fiend dogs.

Today, Ashyn wouldn’t care if her twin spent the whole Seeking tormenting her with stories of monsters. She just wanted her there, at her side. Without her, Ashyn felt smaller. Weaker.

Tova bumped her hand, as if to say, I’m still here.

“Yes, you are,” Ashyn said, smiling as she patted his head.

She took a deep breath and continued into the forest.

They were heading into the true forest now, beyond the second tower. As the trees closed in around them, Tova whined. Ashyn put her hand on his massive head. Normally that was enough to calm him, but his whine grew steadily louder until the governor glowered back at her.

“Silence your cur, girl,” he said. “Or he’ll bring the forsaken on us.”

Ashyn bristled. Tova was a Hound of the Immortals, almost as much a creature of legend as those in her sister’s tales. Raised in a secret location and given only to Seekers, a Hound of the Immortals lived as long as a human and was said to be the reincarnation of a great warrior from the First Age. Clearly not a cur.

Moria said the governor saw them as threats. He was a highborn warrior—tattoos covered him from neck to foot, leaving only a bare strip down his chest. The girls were merchant-born, which would place them in the lowest caste, except that caste laws did not apply to the Seeker and the Keeper. Moreover, Ashyn and Moria had a direct connection to the only force in Edgewood that superseded the governor—the spirits of the ancestors.

Still, Ashyn wasn’t convinced of any ill will on the governor’s behalf. Yes, he was brusque and sometimes rude. But he treated everyone that way. He was simply not a happy man, growing old and realizing he’d never be more than governor of this empire-forsaken outpost.

Ashyn was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice when Tova blocked her path—not until she stumbled over him, landing on all fours on hard earth. Before she could rise, the hound grabbed the hem of her cloak and yanked. Her limbs shot out and she was suddenly facedown on the ground, being dragged back along the path.

She sputtered a laugh and twisted to see the governor bearing down on them. He was not laughing.

“This isn’t the time for play,” he said.

“I know. I’m sorry. The forest is making him uneasy.”

Tova’s snort denied the charge. Legend said that bond-beasts could speak to the Seekers and Keepers, but it wasn’t true. It was simply that, having been with Tova almost since birth, Ashyn could read her Tova as well as she could read her twin sister.

When she turned back to the forest, Tova raced into her path and planted himself there again. He lowered his head and a noise bubbled up from his deep chest. It took a moment for Ashyn to realize what the noise was. Tova was growling. At her .

Something’s wrong here.

She rubbed down the goose bumps on her arms. Tova whined in apology. When she moved forward, though, he stayed in her path. She stepped left. He lunged to block.

“Bring him to heel,” the governor said.

A Hound of the Immortals did not obey commands like a common dog. Ashyn would never dream of giving him one. Instead, she knelt, coming to eye level with him.

“I need to go into the forest, Tova. No matter how horrible it feels, this is our job. Our duty. Yours and mine.”

He laid down in the path.

“Tova, please.”

Again he whined in apology. But he would not move.

“Faiban,” the governor snapped. “Help the girl move her dog along.”

The young guard looked at Tova and shook his head. “It’s a hound, sir. We aren’t to interfere.”

The governor strode forward. Tova stayed where he was, growling. The governor grasped her elbow. He only seemed to be trying to get her attention, but he startled her and she yelped. Tova sprang and his teeth clamped on the governor’s arm.

The governor reeled back. His sword arm swung up, as if in self-defense. The blade flashed. Tova let out a howl and dropped.