CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Back at the shelter, Alaric tossed me a slightly stale roll of bread to eat. Then he began to rummage through his supplies, packing a small bag. He unearthed a sword from somewhere and buckled it around his waist. I tried not to watch him and failed.
“Where are we going?” I said. The rain had settled into a cool mist, and the trees blocked most of it from reaching us.
Alaric shook his head, as if ridding himself of an unwanted thought. “There is a place on the other side of the Silence where I believe she hid the box.”
“Why outside the Silence?”
He frowned. “I cannot leave the forest unless she allows me to.”
Of course. “But there are so many places she could have hidden it. What makes you think you know where it is?”
Now Alaric smiled. “Katen trusts almost no one—but those she does, she trusts completely. She befriended a family of dragons many years ago. I’m almost certain they’re the ones guarding the box. And I know where they live. But we won’t be able to fly there. We’ll have to walk.”
“Why?” I asked.
His face blanched, and I realized that whatever it was, he didn’t want to say.
“Tell me.”
“We need to take the canyon path. And those that rule the canyons are no friends of mine. If we fly, they will attack.”
Now I was confused. “The canyons aren’t ruled by Shale?”
Alaric hesitated before answering. “There are limits to what I can speak of,” he reminded me. “But there are powers in the Silence other than blood mages. And the ones that reside in the canyons would not be happy to see me there.”
He is lying to you.
I jumped. The voice was back.
“Are you all right?” Alaric said, looking concerned. “You look as though you’ve been stung.”
“It’s nothing,” I said quickly. “Let’s go.”
The voice went quiet again as Alaric and I made our way through the Silence. We were on no path that I could see, but Alaric walked sure-footedly, slowing only when the landscape began to change around us. Though there was no break in the trees, scrubby grass appeared underfoot. The soil grew looser, then redder. Our steps quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm, leaving my mind to wander elsewhere.
Why did the voice care about Alaric? It seemed to be connected to the Silence somehow…. Perhaps Alaric would know what it was, if I asked. But if I were going to ask him about anything, it wouldn’t be the strange voice I was half-convinced was a figment of my imagination….
My parents. It suddenly occurred to me that he knew my parents—or had known them. While I knew my father better than anyone else, my mother was an enigma. Those hazy days before she’d disappeared blurred together in my memory. But she’d been so angry the day that boy had died. And I remembered the sound of her sobs behind closed doors that night, when she thought I wouldn’t hear. Until one day she was gone.
I didn’t remember much else about her. But perhaps Alaric did.
I watched Alaric’s back as he led the way. It surprised me, how much I wanted to ask him. I’d kept my feelings about my mother locked away so tightly, I often didn’t think of her at all. It was too painful otherwise. And then Father never spoke of her—it was easier, this way. No sense dwelling on what was long gone. But I’d never thought I’d have such a chance.
Before I could actually open my mouth, Alaric stopped walking. He held up his hand, and I froze. We’d arrived at the mouth of a vast canyon of red rock.
After a moment he put his hand down and squinted up at the sky. “It’s getting late. If you can bear it, it would be better to cross at night. They don’t come out as much after the sun sets.”
I could feel fatigue pulling at my limbs, but I nodded. “I can do it.”
We settled down against a tree trunk to wait.
I must have dozed off, because when Alaric nudged me, the sun had disappeared below the horizon and the moon had risen.
In the moonlight, the canyon rock was cool grays and blues. Alaric was tense as he walked, his shoulders hunched. I tried to stay alert as I wondered just what powers he had spoken of, the creatures that would be displeased to find us trespassing on their land. At least it was easy to follow the trail—a scar upon the ground carved by a river that had long since gone dry.
The trail dipped and swelled, widening in places before shrinking back down to a crevice barely wide enough for two people to walk abreast.
The night was silent around us. The sounds that we made were amplified in my ears. My breathing. Small stones skittering out of our way as our boots hit the ground.
And then there was another noise—something I couldn’t identify. I stumbled and almost fell. Alaric whirled, catching my elbow. “Careful!” he whispered harshly.
“Careful! Careful! Careful!” The word came back at us, shrill and mocking.
Alaric winced, and I realized too late that these weren’t mere echoes off the canyon walls. There was something out there.
Alaric’s fingers dug painfully into my arm. “Leave your gloves on and let me do the talking,” he said. He put himself in front of me, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as the eerie voice grew louder, coming closer.
There was a fluttering in the night, and a dark shape flew down from the sky, landing on a naked tree branch in front of us. Two other birds followed the first. I was certain there were more out there that I couldn’t see.
The first bird spoke. “We made it clear you are unwelcome here, false feather. And yet here you are.”
“Bekit,” Alaric said carefully.
The bird’s voice bristled. “You are no raven to address me by such a name. Do not do so now, traitor.”
So these must be the ravens of the Silence.
“Your memory is short, old friend.”
“And yours appears to be nonexistent. You were warned about what would happen if you crossed this way again.”
Alaric’s jaw clenched. “I had no choice.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Will you let us pass?” Alaric said. “We will not disturb you or the canyon.”
“You have already disturbed us!” cried another of the ravens. In a flash they flew forward and struck Alaric across the face with a claw. He stumbled back, cursing as he put his hand to his face. When he took it away, I saw blood running down his cheek.
I stripped off my gloves, readying myself for an attack, as Alaric drew his sword. The third raven lifted off the branch, flying toward us. I ran forward, hands out—
Bekit, who had remained on the tree, let out a raucous caw. The other ravens pulled up, circling above us. I held my breath, feeling the tension in the air. How many more were out there, waiting for the signal to strike?
Bekit cocked his head as if seeing me for the first time. “Who is this girl?”
“No one,” I said. “No one important.”
I felt pinned beneath his gaze. After a moment he croaked in a way that sounded like a cough—or a laugh—and hopped backward along the branch. If he had been a human, I would have thought he was surprised. “Alaric…,” he said slowly. “What games are you playing?”
“Bekit—please,” Alaric said. “I am trying to make things right.”
The ravens in the air muttered among themselves, then quieted.
Finally Bekit said, “Begone, then. It matters not to me which path you take—only that you are gone before daybreak, for there will be no one to save you then.”
Alaric nodded sharply, took me by the elbow, and escorted me past the tree. I was surprised—I’d thought the ravens meant to detain us.
Once we were well away, I turned to him. “What just happened?”
“You were there, you heard.”
He was being evasive again. I shook my head. “They attacked you, and then that raven saw me, and—”
“Do not read so much into nothing,” Alaric said.
“They called you a traitor.”
“Because I work for the humans, no matter how unwillingly.”
You know he is hiding something. The voice in my head spoke, startling me into silence—just as Alaric wanted—as we made our way through the canyon, leaving the ravens behind.
I’d been able to ignore the voice’s taunts before. But now it was clear that the voice wanted something from me, and that I would not be able to ignore it much longer. I glanced over at Alaric. I would have to speak with it. Not here, though. This would have to wait until I was alone.
We reached the end of the canyon as the sky was beginning to lighten with the colors of day. On this side of the Silence, the forest was sparser, a landscape of rolling hills. Alaric led the way down another path through the trees.
“Those ravens knew you before Katen,” I said. “You were one of them.”
Alaric nodded in acknowledgment but said nothing.
One hundred years. That was how long he had said he’d been bound to Katen and the Gather. And for that he must have been cast out. Not only that, those ravens had held a grudge against him for all this time.
I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like, to be threatened by the very ones who used to be family. I wondered what exactly Alaric had done, to bring such animosity down upon himself. Was it such a crime, to be tricked? To fall into a trap?
“Would they ever take you back?” I asked.
Alaric laughed. “Impossible.”
“Then what will you do after you win your freedom?”
“I don’t know. Where I go, what I do—it will not matter to me, as long as I am free. The life I live now is no life at all.”
I believed him. And more than that—I was drawn to him. Hearing my own thoughts spoken aloud made my heart ache. Here was someone who understood the pain I’d felt my entire life.
But what is freedom without power?
I blinked, unable to push the question away. Alaric did not have to choose between the two. I’d already seen some of what he could do.
But as for myself…
Only recently had I begun to realize that as much as the curse had been a blight upon my life, it also afforded me a certain sort of power. Once it was broken, that power would be gone.
Perhaps it was wrong of me to admit it, but I had enjoyed the wary look on Cyn’s face as I had threatened her. I’d been taught to think of myself as a victim, to paint myself into smaller and smaller corners for the safety of the world. But when I’d wielded the curse like a weapon, I had felt powerful. Untouchable, but on my own terms.
I never wanted to be beholden to anyone ever again—no controlling parents, no sinister mages. But what if the voice was right? What if freedom on its own wasn’t enough? Without power, freedom could be wrenched away in an instant. If I wanted to keep it, I had to be ready to defend it. And without the curse, I wasn’t sure I could.