Shada
wall as sunset approached and scanned the brittle, wiry trees surrounding the field. The convicts had fought back the forest over the years, leaving an open area around the camp and the keep. They knew well to fear the trees and to stay in their enclave whenever possible.
Now the field swarmed with life. The captain was everywhere at once, directing soldiers and convicts as they cut down trees at the forest’s edge and piled them in rows around the keep’s walls. The convicts had suggested this, claiming the trees would burn like a heap of matches. A large amount of sap from other nearby trees would aid their ignition.
Following the lone gunshot that had echoed over the trees, Emberly had returned from the forest with Rayan’s body on his back. He had said nothing about what happened, and no one had pressed him about it.
In the courtyard within the walls, soldiers grunted and cursed as they dug a large hole. They had reached an impressive depth in a few hours. Only a few could fit in the hole at once, and they worked in shifts, lifting buckets of dirt and rock to those waiting outside.
The attack was expected after nightfall, when the wraiths could take the best advantage of their speed and camouflage. Whatever the wraiths’ grasp of strategy, they must have realized tonight was their best chance. Emberly and Belith’s people would try to escape the next day. As far as the wraiths knew, they would make for the gateway to Ronia.
There was no time to fully plan or prepare. The men digging could only work as hard as their backs allowed. The people carrying wood could only scurry so quickly.
The convicts were demolishing their little town. They carried the canvas from the tents inside the walls, knocked down the flimsiest huts, and burned the sturdier ones. By common agreement, Rayan’s hideout was first to go. Pillars of smoke reached into the stifling air—a warning to the wraiths of the offworlders’ power, perhaps.
Against all advice, refusing any company, Sister Belith had hobbled into the woods to enlist the help of her tame wraiths one last time. She had returned hours later, sweaty and exhausted, to announce the wraiths would not be coming. Only one had appeared at their meeting spot to tell her that many had died in the fight, and the rest were in hiding, unwilling to throw their lives away.
While she was gone, some of the convicts mourned her foolishness in going into the jungle in her state. Even Drucin, among those closest to her, noted sadly that she was not herself lately. The sight of her bleeding and swelling from the plant’s venom would not be easily forgotten.
Shada heard Nor call to her from nearby on the wall. Startled, she was glad he had announced himself before coming closer. He walked to her and turned to share her view, leaning on the parapet. His wrist was newly bandaged, but his bruises still showed.
She waited for him to speak. When she had visited him and the other holy men the previous night, her mention of Boots’ attack on her had led the entire conversation astray. She could not imagine why Father Brin had kept that information from Bishop Arumin.
When they finally came to discussing Shada’s difficulty with the Lady, the bishop had mostly reiterated what the Lady had already said: Shada must accept what she was told and only ask questions in line with that acceptance.
Arumin had been confident the Lady would return. So had Emberly when Shada told him the Lady was absent, though the captain had shown surprisingly little emotion at the news. He had said the Lady would not intervene in the battle anyway.
Shada wasn’t so sure the Lady would return. This was not the first time a thoughtless word from Shada had driven her away, but this separation felt more eerily significant than the last one. Shada wished she at least knew where the Lady was. Maybe this was how her father had felt when she wandered off as a child: mostly scared but also a little angry.
As she spoke to Arumin, Nor had listened and said nothing. Maybe he was upset with her too. Like the rest of the company, he had risked everything to be here.
When he approached her on the wall, his first words surprised her. “The bishop is a fool.”
“I’m sorry?”
“He was angry with you because he doesn’t know how it feels to be in your place. No one does, of course. But I can see it’s difficult.”
Shada paused to adjust to his unexpected attitude. “For my life, I don’t know why the Lady chose me. Maybe it’s because she happened to meet me first. I thought I might do something good by joining this crusade, but I’ve put us all in terrible danger. Is it possible the Goddess made a mistake?” She meant the question to be a joke, but it tasted bitter.
“You ask questions. That’ll get you in trouble with some people.”
“I also lack faith.”
“Faith is best if it’s preceded by questions.”
“The Lady disagreed.” Without thinking, she had referred to the Lady as part of her past. The realization was chilling.
“I’m surprised by how she treated you. She tolerated all manner of foolishness from me.”
She smiled at him. “Maybe I’m lying.”
He looked embarrassed. She wondered if he had taken her last statement seriously, and she was embarrassed in turn. His blank eyes revealed as little as ever.
“No, I don’t think so,” he said. “Something else must be behind it. If we see her again, I hope we’ll find out together.”
He gave her a smile she could not return. His comment had reminded her the sun was going down and the trees would be thick with wraiths. She had never had to anticipate a battle or anything like one. A wave of stunning fear washed over her, and she clung to the parapet.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I can’t think before I speak. Not even with you.”
“I’m fine,” she said, though her voice betrayed her lie. She bent over the parapet, praying she would not be sick. If she fell apart before the battle even started, she would be more of a burden than she already was.
“We’ll be inside, of course,” Nor said, watching her with obvious discomfort. “The caretaker and the holy men are considered indispensable.”
“Do you think we should be?”
“You are. I’m not so sure about the rest of us.”
“Why me?” She did not hide her frustration. He looked at her until she continued. “Everyone is helping to get ready. Men, women, and children. But when I offered to help, they wouldn’t consider it.”
“Maybe they’re showing reverence for your position.”
“I’m no more important than anyone else. I know that, so how should this treatment make me feel?”
“It should—”
“Like I’m on the outside, looking through a window. And the window is even dirtier than usual.”
He leaned on the wall and smiled. “Sounds like you’re uniquely qualified for the job.”
She had no answer.
“They may be showing your role too much reverence, but it is your role, Shada. The Lady insists on your safety, as much as you might wish otherwise.”
“I thought I was ready for it, that I knew how it would feel.”
“This won’t surprise you, Caretaker, but I often feel like a loner myself. What’s worse, I act like one, then I get angry about it.” He laughed again. “So I might be the worst person to give you advice—”
“You’re not.” She interrupted again because the words were urgent. She put her hand on his arm. “It makes you qualified.”
His eyes revealed as little as ever, but he could not hide his blush. “Then I’ll give you advice I might not follow myself. Whatever happens to you, you’re free to dislike it. Suffering toward worthy ends can be an act of service.”
“I hope you’re right. Because I’ll never like this.”
“That’s true freedom.”
“I just… When people see me treated like some kind of queen, they’ll think it’s what I want.”
“Then they don’t know you yet,” said Nor. “What’s important is your role, and your role lies in you. So you must protect yourself.”
“I’ll do that in exchange for something.”
His smile returned. “What’s that?”
“Keep yourself safe too. I’m certain you’re as important as me. I didn’t dive into that swamp to watch you throw your life away.”
His smile disappeared.
She cursed her lack of sense. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned that.”
“Don’t apologize. It was amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
She could not fathom that response. “If I’d been in your place, I would have nightmares forever.”
“It’s too soon to tell,” Nor said with perfect seriousness. “Honestly, I’ve been through worse since. The wraiths tormented us. A little while ago, I refused to hear a man’s confession.”
“Are you allowed to do that?”
“No.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Still, refusing a confession hardly sounds as bad as the rest of it.”
“Bad for my soul, maybe. I refused a man to whom I was obligated so I could protect another man I don’t like. The first man wasn’t happy, and neither am I. I hope it was for the best. I believe in Huire and in our mission. When I refused the man, I told him people have a right to secrets.”
“Well, it’s true.”
He nodded. “Listen… When you pulled me out of the swamp, you did more than save my life. I’m afraid to talk about it. Maybe someday.”
She saw his hand on the wall and wanted to touch it. “I thought nothing but blood and death came out of that day.”
“It wasn’t the Lady who picked you,” he said. “It was the Goddess, and she made the right choice.”
The sun had disappeared behind the treetops. The soldiers in the hole kept digging. Outside the wall, arrangements were more or less complete. Despite the urgency, many people trudged along. Someone had collapsed from exhaustion, and their neighbor had moved to help.
Nor pulled a length of cloth from a pocket and unrolled it. “It’s time.”
Shada found hers, which had once been a long headscarf, and wrapped it around her face, covering her mouth and nose. Already, the light was dimming, and the wind stirred. A gust brushed past them from the direction of the fainted worker.
At the forest’s edge, someone else had collapsed. “Nor,” she said, and pointed. As she spoke, another worker dropped to his knees. Yet another fell as she watched. “Oh, no.”
“That’s it!” Nor shouted from the wall, “The wraiths are here! Get inside!”
Chaos ensued. Shada’s heart pounded as if it would never need to work another day. But as they hurried off the wall, she was pleased to note that she was calmer. She was even a little giddy, and she clutched Nor’s hand flirtatiously. He squeezed her fingers as they crossed the courtyard. He pressed too hard, and she yelped and giggled. He laughed too. She had not known he could really laugh.
They made it through the keep’s doors as part of a crowd, children and people unable or unwilling to fight. The crowd’s mood was odd. Everyone shuffled along, worried but excited and even a little jolly.
Her last glimpse of the outside world was Emberly’s men around the hole. A foul smell came from there. They dug at a frenzied pace, and Shada laughed again.
As they approached a stairway leading down, she was happy. She had rarely felt so warm and comfortable, like the world was embracing her.