“It’s not like any of you know him either,” I reply, lifting my chin. “This Shadow Man of yours? It sounds like you know nothing of his origins before speaking with me.”
“We still don’t,” Odette points out. “Sand, shadows… How did he become one and the same?”
I hesitate, because there’s no clear answer. I knew Hans looked a little strange when I first saw him, a littledead, but I didn’t trouble myself with that. He was supposed to be in my dreams as the Sandman, right? It made sense in my head, especially when I still wasn’t sure how long ago I was cursed.
Now? Questions pop up too quickly, begging for answers I don’t have.
“Your Shadow Man sounds dead,” I repeat, looking between the three of them. “Now that you have a face for the prince, let’s see if we can find a death date for Hans. That should put to rest your concerns that he may interfere with the living.”
“He spoke to you,” Ban points out. “What do you make of that? Whether he’s living or dead doesn’t seem to particularly matter.”
Shrugging, I throw my hands up. “I don’t know. It makes as much sense to me as the Icebound spirits Mother had following her around.”
“Yes,” Ban says, his voice lowering. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Kael or Nyra since I killed her.”
“Maybe they were cast back with the other Icebound once their summoner was killed?”
“No,” Ban says, keeping his eyes on me. “I saw at least one other. Ronnie had several. If she could drag spirits of the Icebound into snowy forms and control them, there should be something left behind if they disappeared with her. Even if it’s just empty clothes in a snowpile.”
Honestly, I don’t know what the expectation is here. I was prepared to figure out what to do with the Icebound next, not to worry about where they went without my mother. It didn’t even occur to me to speak with Glacia about it when we were in the mountains.
Would Glacia know?
“We can do more research,” Odette says, holding up her mittened hands. “Maybe there’s information somewhere about controlling an Icebound. Let’s go back-”
A cracking sound overhead silences her, and the two Reapers immediately have the shadows in their hands. Mypalms freeze over, my gaze narrowing as I lift the container and stare at the ceiling.
Above us, between the icy stone, something twists and pushes, trying to work its way through the ceiling. My brows pinch as I grip the pixie dust tighter. “What is that?”
“Doesn’t look like ice,” Zarev says, his voice tense. Beside him, Odette draws a blade, and he seems preoccupied watching her. I saw him hand her a weapon earlier when they came down here, and his concern about her wielding the knife isn’t comforting.
“It isn’t,” I hiss, glancing toward Ban. His lips have thinned, and he’s studying the ceiling intently. Another crack forms, and he reaches toward me. I step closer, letting the light fall off the paintings.
Another moment later, he’s grabbing me like Zarev grabs Odette, and the ceiling gives way. We dive into the shadows as it comes crashing down, the paintings we just found disappearing into the rubble.
Ban holds tightly onto me as the shadows envelop us. The ice in my hands disappears as we stare around at the chaos. Being able to slip into the dark has never been so handy before.
What’s lying on the ground in front of us, twisting and wiggling and bending at odd angles, makes no sense to me. The creatures have long, vine-like features and bulbous heads that remind me of the flowers that sometimes used to bloom here. It’s the wrong season for that, but here they are all the same.
These plants also seem to be about the size of an average person; bigger than I am, but at least a head smaller than Ban.
I can’t talk to Ban like this, and tugging on his tunic does me no good. He’s staring at the creatures, shooting a look across the way to Zarev, who seems just as troubled by the sight. I don’t know what the particular issue is until one of those thingsspeaks.
“Finds the Queen, crush her sweet,” one of the plants says, using some sort of rhyming, broken speech. It sounds like the creature isn’t necessarily meant to talk, the words gargling in its throat instead of coming easily. “Check the dead, check the dead!”
There are roughly ten plants, the others echoing the words the first one spat out. I don’t know how to distinguish one from another; they all look about the same size, same coloring, same everything. Like flowers picked from the same patch.
Odette is pointing with Zarev, the two going unnoticed, like us, in the shadows. They disappear, and Ban immediately chases after them. Following someone else in the shadows is different from standing outside of them. We can make out the two easily, and even when Zarev uses the hopping power, we can still technically see them; they just fade a little bit more.
We move back across the room, the strange plant creatures moving on feet made of vines, practically dragging themselves across the floor. The sound of them muttering to each other in that broken speech makes the hair on the back of my neck rise, and I don’t regret that we’re in the shadows.
Zarev and Odette pop over beside the table we were at, and the Princess flies out of the shadows to collect what she left there. We didn’t pick anything up since, at the time, there wasn’t exactly a rush to have everything on hand. We didn’t even move that far from the work table.
Zarev steps out, too, as the mumbling plants grow louder, large, flowery heads turning to them. “A living! A living! We must take the living.”
Odette says something to Zarev, and I turn to Ban instead and shove his chest. He looks unmoved, unwilling to step out of the shadows and help.
Sure, Zarev seems powerful. He could probably keep the monsters back while Odette collects what we need, but Iabsolutely despise sitting on the sidelines. After a moment, Ban sighs silently, moves us closer to the table, and the shadows drop.
