Heir of Hope (Follower of the Word Book 3) Page 5

  “And you?” Lore asked, joining the conversation, his tone cold. “What do you believe in?”

  The smile faltered across his face. “For the longest time, I only believed in myself. Until . . .”

  “Until?” Lore pressed.

  “Until I met the Word.”

  Lore closed his lips into a grim line.

  Nierne fell silent. The fatigue from the last two days crept back. Why would people think the ruins were haunted? She had copied enough scrolls to know that behind every story was a kernel of truth. Worse still, she had seen nightmares with her own eyes.

  Memories of the Mordra filled her mind, the way the shadow-wraiths drifted along streets of Thyra, wrapping their smoke-like bodies around a person, sucking the life out, and leaving the body to fall to the ground, pale and dead. Their banshee screams, their red eyes, their—

  Fingers snapped in front of her face. Nierne gasped and took a step back. The desert rushed into focus and the heat hit her again.

  Caleb stood a foot away. He dropped his hand and stared at her. His smile was gone. “Nierne, are you all right?”

  She moved her mouth, but her throat was dry. She settled for nodding.

  “Are you sure?” Lore’s strange green eyes roved her face. “You stopped and went into some sort of trance.”

  Her jaw dropped. “I did?” Nierne looked between both men.

  Caleb folded his arms and frowned. His gaze pierced her, forcing its way past her face, looking inside her—Crackers! He couldn’t do that, could he?

  “Yes, you did.” Lore studied her. “Are you sure you feel fine?”

  Nierne took a step back and shook her head. “I-I’m fine now.”

  “‘Now’?” Lore’s brows deepened. “So something did happen.”

  Nierne waved her hand. “It was just a bad memory.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Nierne shivered and looked away. She rubbed her arms and watched a buzzard circle far away. “No. It’s been a long day and I’m tired.”

  Lore raised an eyebrow. “All right.” He turned and started back along the road.

  Caleb hadn’t said a word during her exchange with Lore. He just stood there, arms crossed, watching her. Nierne passed him. He seemed genuinely concerned, but she wanted to forget her memories, not rehash them.

  And the thought of resting in a haunted ruin—

  No! She closed her eyes. No. I’m not alone. The shadows aren’t looking for me. Not like when Father Reth and I—

  She squeezed her eyes even tighter, forcing her mind away from Thyra. She stumbled over a rock. Her eyes flew open and she caught herself. Lore didn’t notice. She didn’t look at Caleb, who now walked beside her. Instead, she lifted her chin and acted as if nothing had happened.

  But she wasn’t fooling Caleb.

  •••

  The sun was still high, but easing its way down toward the hills ahead when the three of them reached the ruins. They weren’t much to look at. Just a bunch of broken blocks, each the size of an ox cart, with pictures chiseled across their sides. They were stacked on top of each other, providing shade from the sun. More jutted out from the sand. The desert had claimed the ruins a long time ago.

  On the other side of the ruins, a small stream carved its way through the brown landscape. Nierne collapsed along the shore and washed her hands, then scooped up the water and drank until her thirst was satiated. The water was lukewarm and tasted like mud, but she didn’t care. Caleb and Lore knelt down on either side of her and did the same.

  Caleb stood and waded out into the water. It only came up to his knees. He pulled off the brown robe he wore across his dark clothing, tossed it onto the shore, and started splashing water across his arms and face. He paused and looked over. “Wash up. Last chance you’ll have for a while.”

  Nierne took off her cloak, dropping it beside his robe, and waded out. The warm water felt like a bath. She scrubbed her arms and anywhere else the dung had touched. Lore did the same thing farther down the stream. Caleb finished and headed back to shore, toward the blocks. He laid the brown robe down in the shade and sat down next to it.

  Nierne finished washing her face and hair and headed back toward the shore. The sun beat down on her again, drying her clothes and hair. Caleb patted the robe. “Sit down. Rest.”

  She grabbed her cloak, sat down in the shade, and let a long sigh out. A gentle wind blew across her face, her wet hair pulling back into curls.

  Lore sat down on her other side and leaned back against the blocks. He ran a hand through his wet hair, leaving it standing straight up.

  Caleb pulled out a large, wadded cloth from inside the robe and unwrapped it. Inside were brown, shriveled lumps the size of her thumb. Caleb looked up. “I bought some dates before I left Azar. Thought we would need something to eat before we reach Kutab, a small village near here. It’s not much, but it will keep away the hunger. Here, take one.”

  Nierne wiped her hands on her cloak. At least they were clean now. She looked at the dates and wrinkled her nose, then held out her hand.

  “They’re actually quite good. Just watch for the seed inside.”

  She took the brown lump and held it up to her nose. It had a subtle, sweet scent. She lowered the lump and opened her mouth. The date had a leathery texture and gave when she bit down. The inside was soft and pulpy, and tasted as sweet as it smelled. She could think of other things she would rather eat, but it wasn’t bad.

  Caleb popped a whole one into his mouth and chewed, then offered one to Lore. Lore wore the same suspicious look. He sniffed the lump, then bit it in half. He chewed slowly. Nierne got the distinct impression this was Lore’s polite face, for when he didn’t want to let on he disliked something. However, he did eat the other half of the date.

  Caleb ate two more. “Want another one?” He held the cloth up. Nierne took one. At least it satiated the belly. Lore took another one as well. Caleb popped one more into his mouth. Nierne and Lore chewed quietly together.

  Caleb wrapped up the dates and tucked them back into his robe. “I’m sorry there isn’t more. We’ll pick up more supplies and hopefully horses in Kutab.”

  Nierne nodded, her eyes growing heavy. She could still feel the heat here in the shade, but it was bearable. And it was making her sleepy.

  Lore leaned back against the blocks. “I’ll take first watch. You rest.”

  Nierne didn’t wait for another invitation. She lay down, her back to Caleb, and curled into a ball. His robe was warm beneath her. She closed her eyes and relaxed. Caleb said something, but, thanks to days of riding and getting little sleep the night before, she was already drifting off.

  •••

  Nierne stood outside the gates of the Monastery. The sky was a deep blue and the sun shone overhead. The dark red bricks of the monastery wall and building contrasted with the whitewashed homes that lined both sides of the grey cobblestone street. Tall, full trees provided patches of shade. The wind flowed through the leaves and caused the wrought iron gate behind her to clatter as it hit the edge of the wall. It swung back and hit it again.

  She frowned. Something was wrong.

  She turned and looked down the street. A mile away, past Thyra’s walls, she could see the shipyard: hundreds of ships, their white sails flapping.

  Nierne twisted around, searching, listening. No birds, no dogs, no voices. Only the wind.

  She froze. There were no people. No living things. Slowly she began to back away from the street. The sun dimmed above her. Her back hit the gate.

  The screams began.

  Oh Word.

  She turned and grabbed the gate. She wrenched it open and cut across the prayer garden toward the back door. Bright yellow flowers lined the gravel path. She crushed the flowers beneath her boots. The screams mingled with the wind, which now pulled and tugged at her
face and clothes.

  She had to get inside.

  Nierne hurried up the steps and reached the door. The handle would not budge. She grabbed it with both hands and pushed down with all her might. “Please open!”

  She looked over her shoulder. A wisp of smoke flowed between the iron bars. It made its way across the garden, floating over the crushed flowers. The smoke spun round and round.

  It was drifting against the wind.

  Her breath stopped. Her mouth opened, but the scream lodged inside her throat would not come. Her hands froze in a claw-like grip over the door handle. The wind whipped her hair around her face and pinned her clothes back. Screams continued to fill the air.

  Red eyes appeared in the smoke. It drew closer.

  She let go of the handle and pressed her back to the door.

  Fangs grew below the glowing red eyes.

  Nierne screamed.

  “Nierne, wake up!”

  Nierne fought. She couldn’t see it, but she knew the shadow was consuming her. She flailed her arms and kicked. Something grabbed her upper arms with a viselike grip and stopped her hands.

  “Wake up!”

  “No!” The dark veil remained across her eyes. “I don’t want to die. I don’t—” She screamed again and tried to wriggle out of the grasp.

  “It’s just a dream.”

  Wait. She sucked in a lungful of air.

  “No one is trying to kill you.”

  The voice was right. Shadows didn’t grab people. They consumed them. Nierne let out her breath. The darkness faded from her vision. She opened her eyes. Caleb’s face came into view, a foot away from hers, shadowed by the darkness of the night sky above.

  Caleb let go and backed away.

  She lay there, staring up at the night sky. Thousands of stars twinkled above her. A fire burned nearby, its orange light bouncing off the stone blocks next to her. She turned toward the fire.

  Caleb sat nearby, his arms resting across his knees, his gaze on her. A long lump lay to the right of the fire and never moved. Lore.

  Nierne sat up and rubbed her face. The air was cooler now, almost cold.

  “So what happened?”

  “What?” She looked at Caleb.

  “Who was trying to kill you?” His eyes were as dark as the shadows, with pricks of light from the fire reflecting in his gaze. “You said you didn’t want to die.”

  Nierne scooted closer to the fire and rubbed her arms. She watched the flames dance across the scorched wood and debated whether she should tell Caleb.

  He waited. An insect thrummed far off in the darkness.

  “A shadow.”

  “You mean the Mordra?”

  Nierne nodded and shivered.

  Caleb reached back and a moment later pulled out her cloak. “Here. The desert can get pretty chilly at night.”

  She took the cloak and draped it across her shoulders. “Thank you.”

  Caleb placed his arms over his knees again. “Was your dream about Thyra?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to tell me about it? I know a thing or two about nightmares.”

  He was right. He did. He had even fought one.

  Nierne stared into the fire. “I never told you about Thyra, about where I came from, and why I left.” She had never told Caleb anything about her past. Why would she have? He had been her captor, then her master. But now . . .

  She played with the hem along the edge of the cloak. “A year ago, my city fell. Not by war, not by an invading army. It was taken over by the Shadonae.” Even now, she could see them, standing in her cell, the pale one pulling his black glove off, finger by finger . . .

  “Shadonae? I’ve never heard of them.”

  Nierne came back to the present. “No, not many people have. It was assumed they had been destroyed after the Nordic wars. They are not human, but look human. And have power. They came into our city a year ago and twisted our military—”

  “Twisted?”

  She glanced over at Caleb. How did she describe a twisting? “They twisted the minds of our soldiers. Changed what they knew, from the inside, so our soldiers saw a different reality than the one before them.”

  Caleb let out a low whistle. “These Shadonae can do this?”

  “Yes. I don’t know how often, or how many people they can twist. However, when they attacked Thyra, they already controlled most of our military.”

  “And what do shadows have to do with this?”

  Nierne pulled at the cloak again. “The Mordra are from the unseen world. Somehow the Shadonae can pull them into ours.”

  “In the same way I can banish them?”

  “Yes, I believe so.”

  Caleb turned his gaze back to the fire. “Interesting. So between your military and the shadows, they took over Thyra.”

  “Yes.”

  They both sat quietly, the fire growing low.

  “So then what happened?”

  She pulled on the cloak harder, working the fabric between her fingers. “Most people”—she swallowed— “most of them died, killed by our own soldiers or by . . . by the shadows.” She saw the shadow again from her nightmare, drawing near, with clawlike hands stretched out. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Nierne, if this is too much—”

  “No.” She opened her eyes. There was nothing to be afraid of. There were no shadows here. And Caleb had his mark.

  “How did you escape?”

  She watched the fire. “I was captured at first. Held inside Cragsmoor, the Thyrian fortress. I was there for weeks, until a breakout occurred. I escaped.” Silence filled the air. “I was one of the few who did.”

  The fire was now only a couple glowing embers. Caleb sat back against the blocks behind him. “But you still dream about that time. Your nightmares are about Thyra.”

  She drew her knees up and placed the cloak over them, then wrapped her arms around herself. “Yes.”

  Caleb threw a small log on the fire. Sparks flew up into the air and the embers flared up around the wood. “The memories will never go away. But they do fade. And so will the nightmares.” He sat back again. “Mine have.”

  What were Caleb’s nightmares? What horrors had he seen? She glanced over at him. He sat again, his arms hanging across his knees, the orange light flickering across his face. “What were your nightmares?”

  Caleb didn’t move, didn’t respond. The fire crackled. Maybe he hadn’t heard her, or didn’t want to talk abou—

  “My victims.”

  Victims? What did he mea—Oh.

  “I used to dream about them. Once in a while at first, then more and more as the years went by. Each and every face, waiting for me when I closed my eyes.” He pulled out his dagger and held it up, turning it between his fingers.

  She had never looked at Caleb’s dagger closely before. The blade was thin and jagged with a black handle etched in silver. It was a wicked looking thing. Once in a while she caught a glimpse of the man he had once been. But she couldn’t imagine him using that on someone now. How did he do it? Stab them—

  No, I don’t want to know. Nierne turned back toward the fire. That’s in the past. “Do you still dream about them?”

  Caleb twirled the dagger one more time, then tucked it back into its sheath. “No. I still remember them. I always will. But they no longer haunt me.” He looked at her. “As time passes, your memories will no longer haunt you. But if it is any consolation, you do not need to fear the shadows. As long as I’m around, I will never let them touch you.”

  She glanced at his hand, now empty. Though palm down, she could see a soft glow around the edges of his hand and between his fingers.

  “Now get some rest. You’ll need it for our journey tomorrow.”

  Nierne nodded. She lay down and pulled the c
loak up around her. She glanced over. Caleb stared into the fire, his mind miles away. “Thank you.”

  Caleb blinked and glanced her way.

  “Thank you for sharing.” She curled her legs up to her chest so that all of her was underneath the cloak.

  A ghost of a smile spread across his lips.

  Chapter

  6

  “Time to go.”

  Nierne opened her eyes. The sky was a pale blue and the landscape had turned from shadows to a cool tan. A scoop of sand was thrown onto the fire a couple feet from where she lay. She sat up and rubbed her face. Bits of sand clung to her cheek and in her hair. Her cloak slid off her shoulders. She couldn’t remember falling asleep.

  Caleb threw another handful of sand on the fire and stamped out the rest with his boot. “I want to make it to Kutab before the sun is high in the sky.”

  Lore stood and brushed the sand from his pants. “How far is Kutab?”

  Caleb looked toward the west. “A couple hours’ walk. Hopefully we can find some horses. I don’t want to cross the entire Great Desert on foot.”

  Nierne made a face and shook the sand out of her cloak. She hated riding. But she also hated this hot, dry place. If a horse could make their trip faster, she would endure one.

  Lore wrapped his scarf around his head, but left his face exposed.

  Nierne put the cloak on that she had worn since the palace and pulled the hood up her head, letting its cowl shade her face. She wished she had a scarf too. The cloak was warm and stifling.

  Caleb handed out the rest of the dates. Nierne took a handful and ate them in a couple bites. Her stomach felt like it was pulling back toward her spine.

  “Drink one more time before we leave.” Caleb popped a date into his mouth.

  Nierne followed Lore down to the stream where she washed down the dates with warm, muddy water. Her stomach gurgled. She sat back and patted it, wishing for a large bowl of porridge, or a slice of bread slathered in butter, or even a hard biscuit to gnaw on. When was the last time she’d had real food? Not since Thyra.