“I understand.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’ve never told anyone that stuff before, but I’m glad I shared it with you.” He swallows. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too.” Gesturing to the pond around us, he says, “My coming here isn’t what you think. I’ve been looking for Hadrien. I haven’t seen any sign of that bastard since you left, and I don’t trust his absence. He’s got to be up to something. The drinking is for strength,” he adds sheepishly. “It makes coming down here after—after Evander—less painful.”
“Jax, there are too many other,realthreats to face right now. Look at what happened to Valoria’s leg! We need you focused on those, not chasing phantoms.” I take a deep breath, bracing for the protest that’s sure to follow what I’m about to say. “Whatever this thing is—this vendetta against Hadrien—you’ve got to let it go.”
“Do I?” Jax snarls. “You haven’t been here. ButIhave. I’ve seen how much Hadrien hurt Valoria, and the pain goes so much deeper than her scars.”
I wince, once again reminded that I was away when Valorianeeded me most. “Even so, after what happened to Evander and Master Nicanor, don’t you think you could have asked someone to come here with you?” I press, still worried about him. “Maybe, you know, Simeon? Your partner? Or Karston? Or me?”
Jax shakes his head, dismissing the idea. “Si’s busy with his students. He actually likes teaching. You saw how I get along with Karston. And now that you’re back, you’ve got Meredy. I don’t want you risking your happiness just to come here with me.”
“And what aboutyourhappiness?” I demand. “Enough with the hero act, Jax! You’re suddenly the only one who should be sacrificing himself so that Hadrien doesn’t put us all in danger again?”
He doesn’t seem to have an answer for that. “I’ve been careful, sober or not,” he insists. “I’m always watching for Shades when I come here.” He smiles grimly. “I haven’t seen any, but I’ve got Valoria with me just in case.”
I stare at him, utterly bewildered, as our friend is nowhere in sight. “You—what?”
Jax shakes his head, grinning slightly, and motions to the sword at his feet.
“Ohhh,” I murmur as comprehension dawns. “You named your sword after a girl?”
“A really brave, really confusing girl.”
Unable to fight my rising curiosity, I ask, “Does she know?” If so, I’ll be hurt. I assume Valoria would tell me right away if she knew Jax’s feelings toward her had changed.
“No. Didn’t think it was important. It’s just a name.” Jax shrugs, completely missing the point, then touches the two smaller blades strapped to his forearms. “But since you’re so interested in my blades, you might like to know I named all my knives Sparrow One, Two, Three, and Four. I wish Karston hadn’t used my favorite one to—”
“We have to find him!” I gasp, a thrill of panic racing up my spine, spreading gooseflesh across all my limbs. I can’t believe I got distracted. I meant what I said when I told Karston that hanging around me could get him killed, but I don’t know how I’d live with myself if it happens this soon. He was just starting to grow on me.
Jax swears as he jumps to his feet and grabs his sword. “You brought him with you? What were you thinking?”
“I was following the ancient rules of necromancy,” I snap as we leave the gazebo. Not giving Jax time to form a retort, I start describing everything from where I saw Karston last to the spirit frozen in place.
We rush across the pond and fly down the path that brought me here, Jax in the lead, both calling Karston’s name all the while. Just as we reach a narrow part of the trail where rosebushes taller than Jax press in close on both sides, a crouching figure bursts through the thorny shrubs hardly more than a stone’s throw ahead.
Snarling, it shambles onto the dirt path on all fours and turns to face us, blocking the way forward. Ribbons of drool hang thickly from its sharp mouth, and a rotten strip of flesh dangles from its cheek as it tosses its head and pierces our ears with a screech.
Even Nipper seems to shrink away from the sound.
I see these monstrosities all the time in my dreams, but nothing is as awful as the real thing. For one, there’s no stench of baking rubbish in my dreams. For another, I never seem to remember just how awful the sound of a Shade’s jaw clicking as it unhinges truly is. Or how dark the pits of its sightless eyes are as it seems to stare into my soul, toying with me, waiting for me to run or scream before making its move.
Jax draws his sword, muscles tensing. I grab his free arm, my own aching in protest from where Nipper nearly dislocated my shoulder earlier. I can’t watch Jax die the same way Evander did. I can’t.
“Wait!” I cry. “Let me try something first—damn!” I gasp as he breaks free of my hold. “Jax, no!”
He sprints ahead, rapidly closing the distance between himself and the Shade, raising his sword. Apparently he was already too focused on the coming fight to process my words.
If he gets any closer, Nipper won’t be able to use her fire breath. I hope Azelie was right when she said necromancers in Sarral use dragons to kill Shades.
“Jax, get back!” I scream. “You have to trust me—get back!”
It’s now or never.
Jax feints to the right, then dives into the prickly hedges on his left.
“Nipper, kill that thing!” I shout, dropping her lead and pointing at the Shade.
The dragon flicks her tail with what I can only guess is eagerness. She opens her mouth wide, sucking in air.
For a moment, nothing happens.
