I had thought that the Shadow Bringer’s castle was a hellish nightmare, but that wasn’t even close to the truth.Thiswas hell.Thiswas a nightmare.
And this was now mylife.
Disembodied conversations drifted past the carriage, turning my stomach into knots. I begged the Maker to shield Elliot’s ears, but if I could hear them, why couldn’t he?
Oh, Elliot. He must think I’m a monster.
“She looks terrible. More corpse than girl,” came a gruff voice.
“Have you seen how she stares at us?” a feminine voice added. “There’s darkness in her eyes; she’s Corrupt, clearly.”
“It’s disgusting,” said a third. “Like the Shadow Bringer himself is in there just itching to crawl out of her skin.”
Shocked laughter, a horrified gasp.
“Better watch your throats tonight,” the gruff voice said. “She’ll rip into them if left unattended.”
“If the Shadow Bringer claimed her soul, it wouldn’t really be her. It would behim. And if he got to us—”
“He’d devour us before anyone else in the kingdom was the wiser.”
I nearly vomited at the thought. I’d never harm them. I wanted them tolive. I wanted them to be free from Corruption just as much as I desired everyone in the kingdom to be free. But they didn’t see that when they looked at me. They only saw a monster posing as a girl, a treacherous beast who would spread Corruption like a ravenous fire until the soul-stealing plague consumed Noctis whole.
We set up camp in a crescent-shaped glade. Legionnaires murmured furtively among themselves as they gathered firewood, righted their tents and bedrolls, and tended to both the horses and the Light Bringer’s every whim.
Before long, armor had been carefully removed, and the group was largely nestled around a roaring fire, lounging in matching tunics and woolen pants. Dusk settled in, tickling our hair and necks with a cool, pine-scented breeze. Something shifted in the Visstill the later it became; nighttime sounds bloomed in the shadows as wind wended itself through the ancient trees,whooshing between bough and root as though the land was its hollow plaything. I prodded the ground with the toe of my boot, still bound and uncertain as to what I should be doing or where I would be sleeping. At the rate I had been ignored—or suspiciously glared at—it was likely there wouldn’t evenbea place for me to sleep.
Elliot, on the other hand, had a small golden tent all to himself. He was on the opposite side of camp, carefully isolated from me, and though we couldn’t talk, it gave me comfort just to see him. He looked my way often; I couldn’t tell if he was crying because he hated me, because he loved me, or because he mourned for Mother and Father the way he would soon mourn for me.
I wandered to the edge of camp and slumped into the curve of an unearthed tree root. Silas, likely ordered to watch me lest I make a run for it, stepped away from the fire to join me.
“All the way over here by yourself?” he asked, kneeling next to me. His face, a deep, beautiful brown, was freshly scrubbed, and his eyes, typically gentle, were sharp despite his casual tone. “You need to sleep at some point, you know.”
Earlier, while the other legionnaires were occupied with setting up camp, Silas had tried to speak with me. He wanted to shed light and optimism on Elliot’s future at Citadel Firstlight, but I was too uneasy togive him my full attention. But now, in the lonely, lengthening shadows of twilight, I wanted to talk.
“I wasn’t about to escape, if that’s what you’re implying.” I raised my hands, still bound by rope. “Wouldn’t make it far, anyway.”
Bound hands made basic things difficult: walking, sitting, avoiding obstacles—but especially moving through a forest such as the Visstill. I had learned that truth quickly when I went to relieve myself earlier, tripping over a branch but unable to catch my balance. I didn’t have access to a mirror, but I was certain my face was scratched and my long hair messy.
Silas had been nearly smiling, but the expression slipped. “You’re a perceived threat that we all witnessed. We must remain cautious.” Silas took a swig from the flask at his feet, clearing his throat. “Many of us have had Corruption in our own families,” he said, continuing. “We’re familiar with it in ways I wouldn’t wish upon our worst enemies. And wedefinitelyhave an enemy or two.” His warm smile was back, but it felt empty. “Some legionnaires may hesitate to approach you, but it’s only because they’re afraid of what you might be.”
At my silence, he faltered.
“There has never been a battle like the one last night.” He added, taking a second drink from his flask, “Last night changed everything. The Shadow Bringer isn’t supposed to be roaming dreams with someone like you by his side.”
Silas offered me his flask, holding it steady so that I could easily partake. It was filled with a warm, bubbling cider, and it instantly eased some of my tension. “Then everyone trulydidsee me in the dream?”
“It—yes. Yes, we could. Do you remember the smoke that came from the scepter Lord Mithras held?”
I nodded. It smelled delicious, like sweet autumn leaves and ancient secrets.
“It is a kind of sleeping mist. It gives us the ability to walk between reality and the Dream Realm, but it also works as a sedative. Lord Mithras was purifying the most severe Corrupt in the Realm when youemerged from the shadows with that monster.” He raised his face to the sky, closing his eyes. “Mithras will likely seek you tonight in your dreams. He wishes to see where your soul wanders. If you are telling the truth, then perhaps there is still hope for you.”
I wasn’t sure why he was confiding in me like this. Perhaps it was because I was going to die soon. The dead were quite efficient at holding secrets. Mila joined us, red hair full and immaculate, and leaned against another upturned root. It was a massive thing, nearly reaching her shoulders.
“Silas, Esmer is probably starving. Did you think to bring her any food?”
“I’m not hungry,” I protested, but then, as if on cue, my stomach let out an unnatural growl.
