Henderson raises his hands, palms forward. The snow has begun to fall harder, creating a haze of fluttering white between us. “I’m here to talk, Graves, that’s all.”
“That’s not what it looks like,” I bite out.
“That’s all it will be if you cooperate. I think you have some idea of what I want.”
“I haven’t a fucking clue.”
“Come down here and have a chat, and I’ll tell you my terms.”
His terms. Like he’s the one with the upper hand. I have the high ground with my wagon. If I wanted, I could snap the reins and run them down. The archer could shoot me or the horses first, and there’s room for them to leap out of the way. Still, we could flee. But the violence could trigger a frenzy, and since I don’t see any sign of Henderson’s wagon, it’s likely blocking the road ahead. Maybe with more Summoners.
Fuck.
Perhaps he does have the upper hand.
“Why should I humor your demands?” I ask, keeping my voice even to hide my growing unease. “You can’t directly harm me without risking disqualification from Prince Leeran’s nomination.”
“True,” Henderson says. “I may not be able to inflict violence upon you, but I can hurtthem.” He angles his head, and I realize he means my crew. “See this?” He kicks something with the toe of his shoe, and a glass vial catches the moonlight. That’s when I see the shapes drawn in the snow. No, not just the snow. On the bridge itself.
A ritual circle. He’s carved a fucking astrotheurgical diagram into the godsdamned bridge. That’s blasphemy. Shadowbanes are forbidden from drawing diagrams anywhere permanent, to prevent common folk from stumbling upon the sacred symbols. Only the church can etch the circles onto the Holy Braziers and our swords.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Henderson says, his smile so amused I want to slice it off his face. “I’ll clean up after myself. What’s most pressing is what this means for you. If my Summoner shoots his arrow into that crowd of Shades, they’ll stir into a frenzy and rush your wagon. Meanwhile, I will crush this vial of blood and light the circle, keeping us safe on this side. Understand we’ll have to shoot anyone who crosses through the light, in case it’s a Shade.”
His threat has my teeth grinding. He seeks to strand us on the bridge, between dangerous Shades and his archer’s arrows. His crew can’t be blamed for anyone theyaccidentallyharm during an active Shade attack. And it wouldn’t count as Henderson directly harming me.
Henderson speaks again. “Think you can defend yourself and your crew against that many Shades? Or do you perhaps not give a shit? I’m interested to see how this plays out, since I’m partial to believing the latter. So many of your Summoners wind up dead. I had a nice talk with one of your last ones. Aelfred, I think it was? He told me some curious things about you.”
My blood goes cold. I know all about what happened with Aelfred. I bear the burden of his life on the edge of my blade.
“That’s what happens when you take outlaws as Summoners,” Henderson says. “Aelfred said you offered him freedom from the continent instead of Absolution. I, on the other hand, offered him a place on my crew the next time we met if he gave me pertinent information.And yet the next time I see you, you’ve got a whole new set of Summoners. Coincidence?”
Calvin’s eyes burn into the side of my face. Not with accusation, for he too knows what happened with Aelfred. It’s with worry. Henderson has discovered too much about me. Even without proof that what my former Summoner said is true, he could file a complaint with the church and have me tested. They’ll use Shades to confirm if I lie.
I’ll have to admit I promised my Summoners passage off the continent.
Something no Shadowbane should ever do.
Something I shouldn’t even know is possible.
“It’s all right,” I whisper to Calvin, though I’m not certain it is. To Henderson, I say, “Is that why you endangered an entire village by having your Summoners forge Shades into a dragon? To punish me for interfering with your budding friendship?”
Henderson shrugs. “I wanted the information Aelfred promised me, and I figured that would hurry you along. If not, your failure would soil your reputation with Prince Leeran. A win either way.”
So he admits it. He truly was responsible for the dragon. Rage courses through me, but I keep my voice nonchalant. “I think I know what this is really about. Still sore about what happened ten years ago?”
His eyes narrow at my change of subject, but he takes the bait.
“I knew back then there was something off about you,” he says, eyes sparking with anger. “You failed your test to join the ranks of trainees, but then what? Lo and behold, you managed to capture the most wanted outlaw of the time. The man I’d spent three years hunting.”
While he speaks, I reach one hand for my belt of vials, unhooking the buckle. I slip out one vial and tuck it up my gauntlet. “Guard this with your life,” I mutter to Calvin, and slowly slide the holster to him.
Henderson scoffs. “You found the criminal where, again? In a tavern? How convenient.”
“You just can’t bear to face your own incompetence,” I say with a wink.
“No, it was something else. You were given special treatment and invited to train as a Shadowbane while your mentor received Prince Leeran’s nomination—an honor that should have been mine.”
I roll my eyes. “You’ve been obsessed with me for way too long. Is this why you wanted to chat? To hash out old times?”
