Clustered before the bridge are over a dozen Shades, all facing the river. Not a single one sets foot onto the crossing, for Shades are wary of bridges. They can’t pass through running water, and even though they can technically crossoverit on something like a bridge or other walkway, they prefer to avoid such bodies of water altogether. Only a frenzy could get them to surge across, so their calm behavior should be a consolation.
Shouldbeing the operative term. I’m not comforted at all.
If the Shades are gathered in one place, calm or not, then something has attracted them. I can only hope it’s an old piece of art—a small statue, perhaps—that was accidentally unearthed by a wild creature. Or perhaps a previous traveler built a cairn to mark a trail up ahead and made it a little too visually pleasing to avoid the admiration of Shades. Both have happened before.
“Harlow,” I say.
“On it,” she calls back, voice muffled through the canopy.
“What are they doing?” Inana’s warm breath stirs the back of my hair. The beads dangling from her mask clatter in the wind, barely audible over the ever-increasing sound of the river.
“I don’t know,” I say. “Get back inside.”
She, of course, doesn’t listen. I only know because I can still feel her nearness, sparking my trepidation with every inch we close toward the group of Shades. We’ll have to tread carefully if they don’t part for us to pass. Driving through them could be seen as a threat, as could lighting my sword and forcing them to part. But if my Summoners can calm them, we’ll be fine. They won’t follow us onto the bridge unless we fully enrage them.
Thankfully, as we reach the rear of the group, they part for us to pass, as if they’re only half interested in whatever snagged their attention. Perhaps it really is something minor. Yet that doesn’t stop the hair from rising on the back of my neck as we proceed onto the bridge, the river’s thunderous rhythm blaring all around us now.
“We’re fine now, right?” Inana says. “It was nothing?”
“It’s not nothing,” I say. “Not until we discover the source.”
“It’s still pulling me,” Pride says. “It let up momentarily, but it’s growing stronger.”
Sloth emits a canine whine. “The river makes me nauseous.”
“Same here,” Lust says. “I couldn’t get an erection right now if I tried.”
“Not the fucking time,” I say through my teeth. Their unease at being suspended over the river seeps into me. Even though my shadows can cross running water, unburdened by the restriction wild Shades have, they aren’t fond of it. Perhaps that’s what sets me on edge with every step the horses take, drawing us nearer to the middle of the bridge—
Movement comes from up ahead, emerging from the trees that flank the road. The snowfall has thickened in earnest, making it difficult to discern what comes our way. Soon I realize it isn’t Shades that stride toward us.
It’s people.
Moonlight illuminates five figures, four of which wear masks of featureless porcelain. The fifth is unmasked, revealing a familiar face with slicked-back russet hair and a slim mustache.
Henderson.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dominic
I clench my teeth, bristling at the sight of the other Shadowbane.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Inana says, taking the words from my mouth.
“Get in the back,” I shout, and pull the horses to a stop. “Please, Inana.” She must be surprised byplease,for she obeys without argument for once. “Calvin?”
“It’s no good,” he says, leaning to the side to peer around the wagon. He faces forward. “They’re still behind us, but looking more agitated now.”
Shit. That means I can’t reverse the wagon without risking being caught in a frenzy sparked by Henderson’s Summoners. Because of course this is a fucking trap.
My eyes fall on the hands of one of the Summoners, my gaze drawn to what they hold. I expect artistic tools, but…it’s a bow nocked with an arrow. That can’t be what fascinated the Shades, though it might be what’s riling them up now. One of them, however, must be performing some art. Humming or singing or perhaps telling stories like Inana does. I can’t see any of their lips moving behind their masks, but it makes the most sense. It’s something we can’t hear over the sound of the river but the Shades can sense. Something we can’t see, to know whom to target should we seek to stop them.
I release a growling breath, having no choice but to humor whatever the hell this is. Henderson clearly planned this well. I should have known better when he gave me the letter concerning my next post, but I authenticated it with the church. Even if I suspected a trap, I had little choice but to obey my orders. So what is Henderson’s goal tonight? Shadowbanes take vows not to directly harm one another, to prevent competition between Shadowbanes vying for their patron’s nomination. Is he willing to risk breaking his vows, risk disqualification from next year’s nomination? Does he hate me that much?
He stops several paces away. His armed Summoner keeps their arrow nocked but doesn’t fully draw their bow. It’s rare to see a Summoner armed. Most Shadowbanes don’t trust their crew enough. Anger courses through me, but it’s directed at myself. I’ve never armed my crew. Partly from lack of trust, but even those who’ve proved loyal…it just never occurred to me they’d be in a situation where I couldn’t protect them. When our only foes are Shades, and regular weapons are useless for dispersing them, it never made sense before.
Now, as we’re faced with an unmistakable threat from our own kind, I despise myself for not foreseeing such a possibility.
