Page 4 of Taken By Shadows

My bedroom already had the baby’s bassinet waiting under the window. The small room held no memories, no nightmares—just cobwebbed corners and creaking floorboards. No one had ever tucked me under my blanket at night or come running when I cried. It was just a room.

I patted the silvery silk blanket until it was neatly arranged in a square. My thumb brushed over the blue embroidery of the motif in the corner, the same rounded diamond shape with three wavy lines that hung around my neck—a silk blanket for an abandoned child.

Leesha would have more use for the blanket than I ever could.

Some part of me wanted to cling to it. To stay swaddled in it. Someone had cared enough to wrap me in it. To give me something to keep me warm, to remember them by.

“For the baby.” I handed the cool moon-pale fabric to Leesha. It flowed over her fingers as she took it, eyes wide with unspoken emotions.

“At least they can have something to remember me by.” I offered an unsteady smile. Did Leesha even want the baby to know me? To be associated with the fae that had darkened their door?

Jon nodded his thanks but said nothing.

The crystals of adamyte plinked gently in the leather satchel at my leg.

This was it.

My muscles ached with a yearning to hug them, to say goodbye in some way. But years of stunted expression stilled them until it burned.

“Stay away from the larger cities.” Leesha held her belly, cradling it protectively.

I smiled at her. “I have to look everywhere. There are more fae in the cities, more people to speak to.” I pinched the necklace between my fingers and swung it back and forth. “Someone has to know something.” I said a prayer and a hope to the forgotten gods, to no one in particular.

Leesha’s face furrowed a little at that. “The fae king in the north—There are stories …”

“He’s a king.” I redid the buckles of my pack for the third time. “He controls trade, taxes. But they say he never leaves. He can’t be that terrible.” I tried to soothe her. “It’s different now.” I waved off their concern. “He won the war, but that was years ago. It’s all political now. Cities and councils hold the power. He’s just a figurehead.” I looked between the two of them. Jon’s gaunt features were the mirror opposite of Leesha’s soft round beauty. Neither of them was convinced by what I said, but they didn’t argue.

Jon handed me a waxen packet. “My mother’s salted pork. It keeps well and should last you a few weeks if you’re careful with it.” My throat tightened as Jon cleared his.

How was this goodbye? How was it so hard? Even knowing this wasn’t my home, this wasn’t my real family, I was struggling to corral the tears behind my eyes.

I didn’t look back as I aimed for the path that would take me from Shadowfall.

Chapter two

My boots crunched over icy patches of frozen leaves and pine needles as I navigated the sloped path towards the forest. I readjusted the pack on my shoulders. It held only the essentials—a map, a canteen, a bedroll, and some ointments. I planned to buy a few other pieces in Craven’s Rook.

The crystal shards of adamyte in my satchel were lighter than a bag of feathers. They grew like fingers reaching from the rock, long, needy and milky white, but were as fragile as glass pendants. The five I carried were enough to buy an army to escort me across the Four Corners. The shards were so rare that the traders often asked where I got them from, but I never told them.

Forcing a steadying breath into my lungs, I tugged my sleeves down and pulled my hood up over my ears.

I wanted to belong. Somewhere. And it wasn’t here.

Branches creaked, and the forest groaned as the rays of the day were swallowed by the canopy.

My footing was sure as I hopped from felled tree trunks to soft soil. Years of climbing, hunting, and foraging had left me nimble on my feet. I had picked my way through the branches and soft glades of the forest many times.

The trek to the outpost of Craven’s Rook would take less than four hours, and by the time nightfall came, I would be gone from this place.

The distant sound of a jade warbler echoed through the trees, its chirps sweet in the hazy green dream light of the forest. Around me, low to the ground, were blue-capped mushrooms that would glow once night fell. A bioluminescence that gave the forest its own natural lights.

I hadn’t made it far into the tangle of the woods when I heard the slap of boots on the soft earth before he spoke.

“Heading to The Fern?” Bray’s voice was light and jovial, like he hadn’t just come upon me in a silent forest. I suppose he didn’t know I was trying to leave. Alone.

What was he doing here? I looked at his attire. A shearling coat and pants with worn-out knees. He hadn’t dressed for a trek, let alone a journey across the Four Corners.

I enjoyed his company most of the time. It was easy. We sometimes talked about nothing at all. It wasn’t always comfortable silence, but it had been better than the other company in Shadowfall. But things had grown more complicated as we both got older. Bray’s instincts and urges became apparent once he left boyhood and grew into a man. And I’d felt lonely then too. Maturing from a girl into a woman hadn’t shored up the holes in my heart, and I’d tried more than once to feel a connection with Bray.