Sandy Williams - The Shadow Reader

“Just take me back to my world.”

Kyol’s jaw clenches. “You need more evidence? Fine.”

He pulls me from the room. The blue glow from his torch lights the corridor. We descend another staircase, take a left turn, and eventually stop in front of an iron gate guarded by two swordsmen. They acknowledge Kyol with nods and me with mildly curious glances. The fae on the left turns a key in the lock and swings the gate open.

Swords, spears, bows, and other weapons are propped up in racks against both walls while jaedric cuirasses, helms, and other protective gear I can’t identify are layered in waist-high stacks down the center of the long room. They’re covered in a fine layer of dust, suggesting fae rarely come down here for their gear. A waste. Aren could equip the entire rebellion with a third of the armor and weapons stored here.

Kyol leads me through the labyrinth of arms. At the far end, the room takes a sharp left turn and a fae—I recognize him as Garrad, one of Kyol’s swordsmen—rises from a chair. Kyol signals him to sit as he crosses to the stone wall on the right. He drags an old, wooden cart out of the way and then makes a fist with his right hand before flattening his palm on a stone high up on the wall. Just like with Lorn’s escape tunnel in Lyechaban, blue light surrounds the rectangle, and a moment later, a three-by-five-feet section of the wall grinds aside.

Kyol wedges his torch into the groove in the stone floor and then pulls me beneath the low overhang.

“Now!” someone shouts from inside.

Kyol shoves me back as he draws his sword, swinging and narrowly missing— purposefully missing—the lightning-streaked human charging him. A second man launches himself at me, but Kyol’s there throwing a fist into a face I recognize as Naito’s one second before it hits. The thud of Naito colliding with the back wall echoes in the small stone prison.

“Sword-master?” Garrad rushes into the room, sword at the ready.

“It’s under control,” Kyol says. The guard glances between the two humans, nods once, then retreats back to his post.

It takes me longer to comprehend everything that just occurred than it took for it to actually happen. Now I’m staring at Naito, who’s staring up at me, his right cheek already swelling.

“McKenzie?”

“Naito.” I fall to my knees beside him and help him sit up. “God, I thought you were dead.”

“Not yet,” he says.

Relief floods me and I’m shaking because maybe I wasn’t a complete fool. Maybe I didn’t entirely misjudge Kyol. I peer over my shoulder. His sword is still drawn, the steel a barrier between the other human and me.

I turn back to Naito. “Are you okay?”

“I think my face is shattered but I’m alive.”

“We have to get you out of here.” I help him to his feet, then glance at the other human. “Both of you.”

“That’s not possible,” Kyol says. He still hasn’t lowered his guard.

“You can put your sword away,” I tell him. When he doesn’t budge, I stand and place my hand on his, making him lower the weapon. Edarratae thrum through my fingers.

Slowly, he reaches up and tucks my hair behind my ear. “If I hadn’t taken him through the gate, kaesha , he would have been killed. If I hadn’t later agreed to execute him, he’d be dead.”

“Aren’t you a fucking hero,” Naito says from behind me. A muscle twitches in Kyol’s cheek.

I glare over my shoulder. “You’re not helping.”

Naito crosses his arms and leans against the wall. “I want out of here. I’m not staying locked up for weeks or months like him.”

The other human does look like he’s been here awhile. A grungy shirt hangs over his lean frame and a scraggly beard covers a face that I’m sure would be pale if it weren’t covered in dirt. But he’s alive. They both are. Because of Kyol.

I turn back to him. “You can’t keep them here forever.” “I don’t plan to,” he says. “Tell us where we can find the rebels, McKenzie. When we end the war, I’ll send them both back to your world. I swear it.”

The diamond necklace is heavy in my pocket, but the Court no longer has my allegiance. I won’t help them, not ever again.

“I’ve told you everything I know.”

There’s a glimmer of something in his eyes. Pain? Disappointment? I can’t be sure.

“Kyol, please,” I try again. “They can’t stay—”

“They’re alive. That’s all I can do right now.”

Before I can say anything else, he pulls me from the cell. When he turns to pick up the torch from its groove in the floor, I catch Naito’s eye. I hope the look I give him is reassuring. I hope it tells him I won’t leave him imprisoned. I’ll find a way to get both humans out of here.

I’M not qualified to plan a jailbreak, but I don’t have a choice. As Kyol leads me out of the palace’s basements, I’m plotting how I’m going to return. I’m going to need help breaking Naito and the other human out. That much is clear.

We don’t say anything to each other as we walk, not until we stop in front of the door to a room I’ve stayed in before. He takes my hands in his. My gaze darts down both ends of the corridor, but no other fae are in sight.

“I love you, McKenzie,” he tells me quietly. “Despite what you heard today, I meant what I said last night. I want to be with you. In your world or mine, it doesn’t matter. But I can’t abandon Atroth with the rebels still trying to overthrow him.”

Edarratae dart down my arms, over my wrists and hands, and into him. Things aren’t okay between us. He didn’t kill Naito—thank God for that—but he’s let me believe in things that aren’t true.

When I don’t respond, he lets out a sigh. “I have some things I must take care of today. Will you be okay by yourself for a while? It may be late before I’m able to return.”

I nod, feeling like shit for what I’m about to do.

He starts to say something else, stops and squeezes my hands instead. Then he plants a kiss on the top of my head, turns, and walks away, back to his responsibilities as Atroth’s sword-master. It still hurts, being second to his king.

I don’t go inside my room after he leaves. Being alone with my thoughts? Not a good idea. Instead, I find my way back to the sculpture garden. What I’m planning is risky—I could be betrayed or end up imprisoned or worse—but I have to take the risk.

It doesn’t take long to find who I’m looking for. He’s here, sitting on a bench beside the statue of a cirikith , one not tethered to a merchant’s cart, but wild and rearing, his stone scales intricately carved. When my shadow falls over the fae, he looks up from the document he’s reading.

“My lord,” I say in his language. “Do you still want to earn your daughter’s forgiveness?”

IF I DIDN’T have a prison break to distract me, I’d spend the rest of the day . . . Well, not crying in my room—that’s not me—but definitely wallowing in some kind of despair. Instead, I all but pace a rut in the stone floor because I’m nervous as hell waiting for dusk. A million things could go wrong tonight.

Truth is, I think our plan sucks. It’s Lord Raen’s plan mostly. He thinks no one will stop him from dragging me through the basements because he’s a high noble. I tried to tell him “fat chance” in Fae, but apparently that idiom doesn’t translate. After he spent half a minute frowning in confusion, I finally just shrugged my shoulders. He took that as a stamp of approval.

And maybe his title will get us to Naito and the other human, but Raen wasn’t so clear on how we’re going to get them out. He just told me to trust him. He’d take care of it. Even though I’m having a difficult time taking people on faith these days, when the sun finally sets, I’m waiting in the corridor he designated, leaning against the wall and trying to look inconspicuous. Unfortunately, I can’t control the edarratae on my hands and face, and even if I could, I’d still look human. There’s just something different, something unexciting, about my race when compared to the fae.