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They must have, because there are barely any signs of life.
“It’s eerie,” Briony whispers. “I don’t like it. Where is everyone?”
Windows are shuttered, market stalls are vacant, and there is an unsettling lack of noise. No chatter or movements of the day beginning.
I glance at Eldrion. I might not be able to read his emotions, but my powers are still intact. So, I let the gates down and reach behind the closed doors as we pass them.
It is probably a foolish decision. I am weak, and my own emotions are running so high I can barely contain them. But I need to take back some control. I need to do something to make me feel as if I have a grasp on what’s happening around us.
The first thing I feel is silence. It is almost deafening in its intensity. A swirling cyclone of silence. Like shadows. But then the silence is ripped apart, and it is swallowed by fear.
My eyes blur. I grip on to my horse with my thighs. I hold the reins tighter. My stomach twists with the overwhelming sense of terror that swells inside the houses and taverns of Luminael.
They saw.
And they are afraid.
When I slam the gates back down and look at Eldrion, he has slowed his pace and is staring at me. My skin is clammy, and I know my cheeks are flushed. My hair sticks to the side of my face. I push it back and try to remember how to breathe.
“They know,” I mutter.
Eldrion nods slowly. “Of course they know, Alana. Even if they hadn’t seen it, they would know.” He inhales sharply, then taps his horse with his heels and breaks into a gallop. Over his shoulder, he calls, “Everything has changed, Alana. Everything.”
For a moment, I simply sit, staring as Eldrion races away from me. But then I lean into my horse’s neck, stroke her mane, tap my heels, and follow suit.
We leave the city through the large archway in the Shadowkind Quarter.
We pass the stadium where the Gloomweavers sold me and the other Leafborne at auction. I remember the first time I saw Eldrion. I remember thinking my only problem was that I needed to survive a cruel elf lord who wanted to keep us as his prisoners.
And that memory leads me back to Finn. The first time he appeared in my chambers, tending my injured feet with such tender care. Unafraid to touch me. Unafraid to see me.
Pain grips my chest. I know what he is now, and I know it was all a lie. But that doesn’t stop my heart from remembering how it loved him.
The pretend version of himself that he crafted so carefully is tattooed on my heart, and I am not sure I will ever be able to erase his poisonous ink from my soul.
I know he is evil.
I know he used me and betrayed me.
But perhaps he loved me, too.
Perhaps both things can be true?
The dusty track that leads through the fields beyond the city, towards the forests, billows beneath the horses’ hooves as we canter in the direction of the trees. Frequently, I look up at the sky, wondering whether the storm clouds will begin to chase us or whether Finn will suddenly appear in the sky. A devil with wings. Blotting out the sun, and swallowing all that is good with his anger.
For a moment, pity settles in my gut.
Finn is doing this because he is angry. He is not evil. Or, at least, he was not.
If the things he showed me were true, and I believe they are because I know Eldrion, and I know what he is capable of, then does he not have a right to be angry?
He is doing this because he wants to free his people.
A flicker of hope ignites in my chest. If that’s true, perhaps there is a way to get through to him. Perhaps I can make him see this is not the way. That he doesn’t have to hurt anyone else.
I glance at Eldrion as I overtake him.
If we can reach the camp before Finn, and I can talk to him, look him in the eyes, make him remember who he is, then maybe... just maybe... I can stop my vision from becoming a reality.
