When had I last eaten? Yesterday morning?
Mila rummaged through a pack at her side, fishing out a canteen, some bread, and a roasted duck leg wrapped in cloth. She handed them to me, giving me a sad half smile. “For our unexpected hostage.”
“Thank you,” I managed, taking a small bite of the duck leg. Fortunately, the rope was just loose enough that I could eat. “Please make sure my brother has food, too.”
Mila nodded solemnly. “Of course. Already done.”
She returned with more food and drink after making a stop by Elliot’s tent, her arms overwhelmed with a jug of steaming cider, two jars of smoked pine nuts, and bits of roasted poultry. All from Norhavellis, I learned. Small tokens for their Light Bringer. We ate hungrily, licking the salt from our fingers, and settled into a somewhat regular rhythm as Mila and Silas traded stories of their travels. I eased into the conversation, thoughts of Corruption, death, and despair ebbing from my mind the longer we spent together, and I even managed a smile at one point.
A smile.
Guilt and grief churned in my stomach. I wasn’t sure if I deserved to smile.
As the fire burned low, the legionnaires began the whispers of asong, their voices growing louder and more haunting as it looped, repeating for a second time.
Suff’ring in the silver’d pool
Alongside his shadow’d ghosts
But darkness fell, devour’d them all
Beware, the Shadow Bringer comes
So burn the light brightly and
Sing the song boldly
For we fear not shadow nor the night
For beware, beware, beware, beware
Beware, the Shadow Bringer comes
The shadows, they drown him
The light doth surround him
Bound to his darkness evermore
So beware, beware, beware, beware
Beware, the Shadow Bringer comes
Beware, the Shadow Bringer comes
They moved into a few other songs, some spirited, some somber, but I kept thinking of the first. It made me feel uneasy, exposed. I didn’t like it at all.
As the legionnaires sang, distracted, Mila slipped me a vial of elixir. “I gave one to Elliot, too.”
“Thank you.”
I politely declined to share Mila’s tent with her and nestled back against my tree root. We weren’t friends, I reminded myself. And it felt more comfortable, somehow, being in the open air. The legionnaires were unbothered by my choice; several of them always stood guard along the camp perimeter, watching me and the woods for signs of anything unusual.
I arranged my rope-bound arms over my knees as best I could, trying to appear nonchalant and insignificant. Between my connection to theShadow Bringer and his demented world, my involvement in an entire village’s damnation, and my likelihood of rotting in an early grave, it was too much to handle, too much to comprehend.
And then there were my parents. My poor, poor parents. I buried my face into my cloak, sobbing quietly. Eventually I dozed off, lulled by wind threading through the branches above me.
When I opened my eyes, I expected to be greeted by swaying treetops and the smell of breakfast at our camp. Instead, I woke in a sprawling room layered with ancient tapestries, dusty bookshelves, and the barest hint of candlelight. It smelled of night, rain, and old things. Of dust and objects left in obscurity for far too long.
