CHAPTER NINE
My eyes opened into darkness. I didn’t know where I was. There was no bed, no breeze tapping tree branches against my window. No light from the moon cutting across my room. Just the dark, and the steady roar of falling water.
Haven, I remembered. I was in Haven, with Miranda.
I propped myself up on an elbow and looked around, bleary-eyed. Our lantern had gone out, but elsewhere in the cavern there were lights. A small group of people stood together near the tunnel that led back out to the forest.
Curiosity sparked within me. I looked over at Miranda, who was still fast asleep. Then I got to my feet and straightened my clothing, pulling my gloves up and adjusting my collar. I stepped carefully around Miranda and made my way across the cavern.
As I approached, I saw that there was someone lying on a cot at the center of the group—a woman moaning weakly. The sound sent shivers down my spine, bringing back memories of Melor at the tavern. For a moment I thought about turning around, but then the group shifted, and I saw her clearly for the first time.
She wasn’t so old, I thought. But it was difficult to tell because of the black marks shifting across her face, obscuring her features. They swirled and pulsed as I watched, strangely mesmerized. With every pulse, it seemed that the marks grew larger, and the woman’s moans grew fainter. She batted the air with her arms as though fighting against an invisible assailant. But those motions too were weakening.
Those standing around her began to back away, forcing me to retreat to avoid them. They were murmuring, humming a tune that raised the hair on the back of my neck. But they made no move to help the woman. Was she beyond that now?
If I could touch her, I would cradle her head and press a damp cloth to her brow and tell her that she was not alone. But I couldn’t.
I could only stand by and watch as the marks grew larger, engulfing her cheeks, spilling down her throat and below her shirt. They bled into her mouth and her eyes, turning her pupils black. She began to choke and thrash… and soon she lay still.
I pressed a fist against my mouth, stifling a sob. This death was quieter than Melor’s, but it was still violent in its own way. This woman had been devoured by shadows, and we’d all simply stood here and watched it happen.
A few people returned and drew a shroud over the woman’s body. The marks on her face were still visible. The rest of the group began to disperse.
I looked away. So this was what the end was for those people who became blood carriers. This woman must have served a blood mage of the Gather. I doubted they even remembered her now.
“You handled that well,” said a voice nearby.
I jumped in surprise and turned to see Rin, holding a lit pipe.
“I’m sorry?” I said.
“Your first plague death,” she replied. “Most people don’t have the stomach to watch.”
“It’s not my first—”
Rin held up a hand. “Save it for someone you have a chance of convincing.” She looked me up and down. “So you’re Miranda’s new girl.”
My cheeks grew warm. “I’m not Miranda’s anything,” I said.
“If you say so,” Rin said sardonically. The end of her pipe glowed orange as she inhaled.
I tried to remind myself that Rin’s ire wasn’t meant for me—it was for Miranda. But that did nothing to ease the anger that flared within me at her pointed words.
“You have her all wrong,” I said. “She left the Gather.”
“Has she,” Rin said. “Then riddle me this, girl. Shale has great protections spelled into his palace walls. The only people who do not need permission to enter are those who carry his crest—a silver medallion stamped with the image of a wolf. It’s something only granted to those loyal to him. Miranda was granted one. If she’s loyal—and I know she is—she still has it.”
“You’re wrong,” I said instinctively. But her cold certainty chipped away at me.
“Trust me, I take no pleasure in being right. I only seek to save you a world of hurt. What you do is entirely up to you.”
She looked down at the dead woman’s body once more. Then she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving me shaken.
She’s wrong, I told myself. She was speaking only out of spite.
But there had been reason to doubt. The story Miranda had told me hadn’t been completely convincing. Could this be why?
I had to know.
I went back to the shelter. Though Miranda was still asleep, my heart raced as I picked up her bag and brought it out into the light. For a moment I hesitated. This was wrong, an invasion. But I had to know.
I undid the straps and took off my gloves before reaching into the bag. My hand touched cloth, then the sack that contained what was left of our food. A sheathed knife, a small book, and… my fingers brushed against a coin.
I pulled it from the bag, keeping my fist closed. I looked down at my hand for two—three breaths. And then I forced my fingers to uncurl.
Silver glinted up at me. Though the light was low, the outline of the wolf was clear.
My heart plummeted. Rin had been right. Miranda was lying to me. She wasn’t working against the Gather—she was working for them. I couldn’t trust anything she said… and I couldn’t stay with her now.
But without her, where would I go?
I looked at my hands in the lantern light. The Silence was deadly, yes. But I had already proven to be a match for the Wolves.
The Gather was full of mages, Miranda had said. If I made my way there, I could surely find someone with real knowledge of how to break the curse. I only needed to find a way to get there….
The acorns.
I reached back into the bag, exploring by touch until I came across one acorn, then another. I pulled them out and pocketed them. Guilt twinged through me, but I ignored it. If Miranda was loyal to the Gather, she could navigate the Silence without these. I needed them more.
I repacked the bag and placed it back in the shelter. Miranda turned over, and I froze, holding my breath.
Her eyes stayed closed. I let out my breath and crept as quietly as I could out of the shelter.
Small bags had been set out for us sometime in the night—the provisions Miranda had requested. I picked one up, still debating myself. Was this wise? What if I was wrong about all of this? What if walking out of Haven without Miranda was a mistake?
No. The Silence had turned me upside down and taken away my balance, but there had to be something I could hold on to, and it was this: I couldn’t trust her. And if I couldn’t trust her, I had to leave her.
Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I took a lantern to light my way and walked toward the tunnel.
It was nearing morning when I stepped out into the open air. A bird sang somewhere nearby, and my steps lightened as I left the cavern and Miranda far behind.
I made my way past the houses without seeing another human, but as I reached the border between Haven and the rest of the Silence, I saw Tadrik standing guard.
I stopped. Entering Haven had been difficult enough. I wondered what it would take to leave.
“Good morning,” I said.
The gatekeeper leaned on his staff and nodded back. I waited, but he did not speak.
“I would like to leave now,” I said after some time had passed. “Will you tell me how?”
He looked me up and down. Though I felt the urge to cower, I stood tall and raised my chin.
“You are new to the Silence, I think. Despite what your friend said,” he said finally.
I looked at him sharply. “I don’t know why you would think that.” What had he seen that drew him to that conclusion? Miranda had said not to tell anyone I was new here—but might that have been for her own reasons?
“It’s obvious to those who know how to look, child,” he said.
I studied the gatekeeper. Rin had guessed anyway. Soon everyone in Haven might know. And Tadrik had a kindly look about him, if stern. I nodded hesitantly.
“And you know where you are going?”
Truthfully, I did not. But I had two acorns in my pocket and a growing determination not to trust anyone.
“I have a plan,” I said. “If you’ll just allow me to cross the trench, and tell me where this path leads.”
He let out a sharp whistle, and out of the trench rose the hands. In the gray morning light, they looked even more unsettling than I remembered.
“What are they?” I asked. “Is this done by blood magic?”
“Travelers are not privy to the secrets of Haven. But they will carry you across.”
As he spoke, the hands pooled together to create a sort of carpet, which floated toward me and came to rest on the ground before my feet. I held my breath and set one careful foot on the carpet, then the other. The hands shifted, and I stretched out my arms, trying to keep my balance. I looked back over my shoulder at the gatekeeper.
“Going alone is a difficult path. I wish you good fortune of it,” Tadrik said.
The carpet lifted off the ground and I lost my balance, falling forward onto my hands and knees. My breath caught in my throat, and I resisted the urge to recoil as we slowly crossed the trench. The tension in my body began to ease only when we touched down on the other side and I staggered onto solid ground once more.
“There is a fork in the road, some ways ahead,” the gatekeeper called. “To the left will lead you out of the Silence. The right will take you to the Gather.”
I wanted to ask him where, specifically, the path out of the Silence led. Would I simply end up back where I had started, a few days dirtier? Or would it spit me out on the other side—the side where there was magic?
But I didn’t dare ask. I didn’t want him to be more aware of my ignorance than he already was. So instead I waved to him in thanks, turned around, and pushed my way back through the veil separating Haven from the rest of the forest.
Alone.
In some ways I’d always been alone, but I had never been alone like this—in a deadly place, with no one to protect me but myself. I should have been terrified. But my fear had receded, at least for this moment. I had survived my first night in the Silence. And I had the curse on my side for a change.
It was strange to think of the curse helping me. I had spent so long counting it only as a burden, the thing that made me a monster. But now I was beginning to realize that monstrosity could be power.
I thought of the Wolves, and the fear their appearance engendered in their prey. I thought of the Silence itself, and how the villagers of Onwey had spoken of it.
There is power in love—that was what my father had always said. But that love had been stifling. He and my mother had tried to protect me, and where had that gotten them?
For the very first time, I considered whether they had been wrong all of those years. Maybe they had even been wrong to keep me from using my curse.
Because there was power in fear, as well. When I had struck one Wolf down, the rest had looked at me with that fear. Not because I was good or kind. But because I could kill them.
My parents had taught me that it was important to be good, and that a good person was defined by their actions.
But what did it mean, when being good necessitated harming yourself in the process? I’d done all I could to protect those around me from myself. But how much had I lost? How much had I sacrificed? Everything.
Maybe it was my turn to walk freely. Maybe it was everyone else’s turn to cower away from me, rather than I from them.
From somewhere nearby came the sound of running water, and all around me was the steady hum of insects singing to each other. A breeze shifted through the trees, rustling leaves. I kept careful watch, half expecting the forest to move the way it had when Miranda and I had entered yesterday morning. But the Silence stayed put.
Not so the other beings to either side of the path. Iridescent beetles as large as my hand buzzed through the air. Dark vines of ivy slithered along the ground like snakes, making my heart jump and stutter. Vibrant purple and yellow flowers chittered to each other, only to fall silent as I drew near. Ghost lights glimmered in the distance, though they winked out as soon as I turned my head to look. And farther away I heard the movements of larger creatures—but I was more curious than frightened. I wanted to know more, see more.
I looked down at the path, the marker stones clear and glimmering. What would happen if I stepped off it? What wonders might I find?
Come in.
I jumped. What was that? It had felt almost as though something—or someone—had spoken inside my head.
I looked around, but there was no one there. “Hello?” I said, feeling foolish.
Come in.
There they were again, those words that were not my own. Their tone was soft and dark—like night given voice. And there, in front of me, a glimmering path unfolded, bordered by glowing ferns and brightly colored mushrooms. It was inviting—alluring. I took one step forward before I caught myself and stopped. The memory of Melor came rushing back again. And here I was in the Silence, about to step off the path.
“Who are you?” I asked. “What do you want?”
Wind rushed through the forest, shaking the trees around me.
A friend, I heard eventually. I am a friend.
A shiver ran down my spine. A friend? A friend that wanted me to leave the safe path… and go where?
“If you are a friend, then show yourself. Come out where I can see you.”
I fingered the edges of my gloves, ready to tear them off.
But there was nothing. And the voice said nothing further.
Heart pounding, I lowered my hands. Casting one more glance at the path that had appeared, I hurried on.
I kept to the safe path as morning waned into day. At the edge of the Silence the trees had been so dense they blocked out the sky. But here I could look up and catch an occasional glimpse of the sun. The only things that marked the distance I had traveled were my tired legs and my hunger. I wanted to curl up and rest, but I couldn’t. I had to reach the Gather. I grabbed a bun from my bag and ate it as I walked.
Eventually I came to a fork in the road and remembered what the gatekeeper had told me. Left led out of the Silence. Right, toward the Gather.
I paused and ate a handful of roasted chestnuts while considering.
Everyone had told me the Gather was dangerous. But I wasn’t powerless. I could protect myself.
Besides, I hadn’t come all this way to lose my nerve now.
I took a deep breath, mustering up my courage, and turned right.
I made it only a few steps past the turnoff when I heard footsteps approaching from behind me. I thought about jumping from the path to hide—but that seemed foolish. What if I couldn’t find my way back to it later?
I stripped off my gloves and shoved them into my pocket, preparing for whatever was coming around the bend. I counted to three before whirling around to face—
Miranda.
Her face was flushed from running. She stopped a few feet away, bending over to catch her breath.
“What are you doing here?” I said. I lowered my hands but did not put my gloves back on.
“What are you doing here? I woke up and you were gone! I thought that someone had taken you! I couldn’t believe it when the gatekeeper said you left on your own. What were you thinking?”
I took a step back as she came closer to me. She stopped moving, her expression twisting with hurt. I felt a pang of guilt but brushed it away. She could very well be pretending, just to win my sympathy and trick me.
“There are parts of your story that don’t add up,” I said. “I decided that perhaps I made a mistake, trusting you.”
Miranda frowned, exasperated. “You still don’t trust me? I’m trying to help you.”
“Why was it so important to keep the curse a secret back there? Why didn’t you tell the people at Haven that you’re trying to wake the sleeping princess? Isn’t that something they support?”
Miranda rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. “The rulers of the Gather do not allow challenges to their power. And your curse is an exceptional challenge. I couldn’t allow you to risk yourself in that way, or let any spies in Haven learn of your curse.”
“Really? You’re not just trying to keep me dependent, so I can be of use only to you?”
Miranda laughed harshly. “Of course I want you with me. Because you are useful. But that is irrelevant. We made a bargain, and I’m holding up my end.”
“And what about the medallion?” I said.
She stilled. “What?”
“You heard me. The medallion that shows your loyalty to the Gather. To Shale. If you have left them behind, then why do you still have it?”
She scowled at me. “Who told you about that? Was it Rin?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Why do you have it, if you’re no longer working for them?”
Miranda bit her lip. “It’s more complicated than you think. I—” She looked past me, her eyes suddenly wide with fear.
“What is it?”
“Alaric,” she said, the name almost as soft as a whisper.
I turned around.