CHAPTER 37

Everything around her fell apart.

Derowen dropped her sword and moved to stand in front of Thorn, while Vex doubled over like she’d been punched. Aswin scanned the room without a hint of worry and saw Vex before she saw Thorn. She squealed. “Vex, I didn’t know you were back! Can I play with Trinket, please? Uncle Culwen is outside, but he wasn’t paying attention to me either. No one is, and I don’t want to do endless lessons. They’re boring.”

Wordlessly, Vex nodded at Trinket, who lumbered up to the little girl. She immediately ran over and buried her face into his fur, but when she looked up again, her eyes grew impossibly wider.

“Mama, is that man sick?” She pointed at Thorn. She kept one hand curled in Trinket’s fur, and there was a hint of trepidation to her question.

Derowen had blanched to the point of turning green, and she took another tentative step toward Aswin. Her voice wavered, and she wasn’t able to pull the mask of kind and helpful Shademaster back in place. She turned her ring around her finger unconsciously. “He is, darling. He is sick, and we are trying to find the best way to help him. But you shouldn’t be here. You should be with Wick and learn your lessons like the big girl I know you are.” She brushed her hand on her tunic, and Vex wondered how obvious the blood was on the red fabric. If that was why they’d decided on that color.

While the Shademaster carefully walked toward her daughter, Vex took a step toward Thorn, whose coughing had turned into a wet wheezing sound, as if trying to breathe only sucked his lungs full of blood. A trickle of red ran down from the corner of his mouth, and he still clutched at the emptiness around him. His eyes followed her. She saw him drift in and out of a haze of pain.

With her foot, she pushed the Shademaster’s sword in his direction. Even if it wouldn’t be of any help to him, she’d rather it was out of Derowen’s reach too. She wished she had a way to help Thorn. All she could do was protect him.

When Derowen took another step toward her daughter, Vex positioned herself between the Shademaster and the dying miner, and she cleared her throat. “Trinket, will you bring Aswin back to Wick for her lessons?” The words tore through her. She’d much rather have Trinket close by. She didn’t want to be alone. But she also couldn’t bear the thought of Aswin’s curiosity meeting Thorn’s pain. Aswin had already seen too much pain and bloodshed here. She didn’t deserve to see more. “He can stay with you for a little bit, if you like.”

Aswin’s face brightened. “I’d like that. Is that okay, Mama?”

Derowen threw a genuinely grateful look in Vex’s direction, but it disintegrated to an intense look of fear when she realized Vex’s position. She breathed out hard. “Of course it is, darling.”

Trinket hesitated, and she nodded her encouragement. Let him take Aswin out of this room and hold her safe. She trusted no one more to protect her, because he knew how to be a refuge to scared girls. “I’ll come find you both as soon as we’re done talking,” she promised.

In her periphery, Derowen nodded too. “We’ll take care of the sick man, Aswin, but it’s time for you to go back to Wick.”

“I will.” Aswin looked as if she wanted to walk toward Derowen. Then she hesitated and thought the better of it. She scrunched up her nose and kept one hand curled in Trinket’s fur as they both turned to walk out of the room.

As soon as the bear and the little girl pushed out the door and it fell closed behind them, Vex crouched down and snatched up the sword. It was too heavy for her, and it had been a long time since her father had had her train with blades, but she felt better holding a weapon. She was done letting anyone hurt her. “No deal, Shademaster,” she said softly. “I want him too.”

Derowen stared intently at the ring around her finger. She turned it around, and the stones seemed to glimmer in the light, and after a moment, she laughed incredulously. “You really don’t understand, do you? I would thank you for what you did for my daughter, but—”

“I only did it for her. Not for you.” Vex held the sword loosely. “I don’t want to fight you, Derowen. I didn’t even want to choose between the two of you. Not after what you’ve done for me. But I will if I have to.”

Derowen sighed. Then she reached down to her boots and when she rose, she held poniards in both hands. “I don’t want to fight you either, but neither of us got to make that choice, did we? You do everything because of your brother—and I do everything because of mine.”

“No,” Vex whispered. She steadied her voice. “I chose to be here.”

At her feet, Thorn coughed. His breathing was impossibly labored. He sounded like a drowning man, gasping for air. He sounded like death, and it rattled her. She raised her sword to a guard position. “And I would do anything for Vax.”

“Then stand and fight.” Without another word, without a hint of regret or hesitation, Derowen attacked. She fought with the same determination that she used in every other part of life, and whatever masks she wore, whatever kindness she cloaked herself with, it all fell away when she fought.

She had one singular purpose: to win, and it cut as sharp as any blade.

Vex brought up the sword to protect herself. It felt heavy and awkward in her hands. She missed the grace of her bow.

She was able to block a strike, but immediately the Shademaster pivoted and used the poniard in her other hand to take a stab at Vex. The point of the weapon tugged at her sleeve and tore through the fabric. It just missed the skin as Vex jumped away.

This was exactly what she’d had feared when she’d come to the entrance of the mines. She couldn’t survive in a swordfight. They were locked in an exquisite but deadly dance, where every step could spell either victory or disaster, and Derowen had the lead.

But while Derowen was determined and strong, Vex was quicker. When the Shademaster parried a strike and followed through with a measured thrust upward, Vex arched backward to avoid it. She used the momentum to swipe at Derowen’s feet with her boot, very nearly knocking the Shademaster and herself off balance.

When she stumbled, Vex leaned in low and cut at her. Her weapon caught on part of Derowen’s uniform, digging into her side. The Shademaster lashed out in retaliation, and one of her poniards cut deep into Vex’s left forearm, slashing into one of the bracers.

Vex tried to use her few half-remembered guard positions, which were meant for lighter swords. Her arms ached, her muscles unused to the short burst of movement. Derowen fell into an aggressive pattern of offense, a rhythm of thrust and lunge, slash and sidestep.

Vex felt the sweat pour down her face, and her arm ached, making it hard to cling to the blade. “It doesn’t have to be like this,” she tried once, breathlessly.

“It does.” Derowen used one of her poniards to slash at Vex in a downward arc, and when Vex blocked it a second too late, she took the other, stepped in, and stabbed.

Vex felt the blade cut through her clothes as she let herself fall back at the last moment. Holding on to the sword with her right hand, she scrambled farther backward. She wouldn’t be able to keep this up.

“What was it you told me?” Vex threw at her. “That you wanted to teach Aswin how to be strong enough so that she doesn’t have to be frightened of losing?”

Derowen flinched at the impact of the words, but instead of surrendering, she pulled her pain closer and used it as another weapon, and in that moment her kindness and despair came together. Two sides of the same coin. “I’ve already lost so much. I won’t lose her too.”

She swiped at Vex’s legs. Vex pushed herself up to her feet and circled the Shademaster, ready to block the next attack. She was a second too late when it came. Once more, Vex felt the tip of it cut through fabric and skin, and across her ribs. This poniard dug, and she cursed. The edges of her vision swam. She forgot about Thorn. She forgot about the notebook, about the ring. Everything fell away but the two of them, their blades, and the life and breath of the fight itself.

It became harder and harder to hold up the sword.

Until the sound of a horn wound its way through the Shade Hall. Raised voices. Feet stamping. Shouts. Screams. Derowen threw a furtive glance over her shoulder, and Vex lunged. With one hard strike, she sent one of the poniards tumbling to the ground, and the balance of the fight shifted. Vex stepped closer to kick the weapon far out of the Shademaster’s reach.

Derowen stabbed at her, but the poniards didn’t have the same reach as the sword. Vex slashed at the Shademaster’s shoulder and cut deep. Blood pooled in the wound and coated the red tunic.

Derowen’s hand trembled, the blade falling in and out of guard. So Vex turned to attack her from that side once more. Again. To find a way to disarm her. To find a way to—she didn’t know how they’d get out of here.

Right then, the sound of horns echoed through the Shade Hall a second time, followed by voices. “We’re under attack!” The shouts came from outside the room. “Ash walkers! We need the Shademaster!”

This time, both women swirled around to the sound. Vex used the opportunity to take a few steps back so she could lower the sword. Her arm ached, and the cut to her ribs was bleeding.

“It’s impossible,” Derowen breathed. She backed away too, her gaze first on the door and then on her ring. “I didn’t …”

Vex glanced across the room for an escape route, and grew cold.

The chairs and table in front of the window quaked and wisps of ash blew in through the cracks, like tendrils that reached into the room to grab them. Outside, the horns sounded again and the voices became louder and more frantic.

Out of nowhere, ashen hands clawed at the windows and gaunt, decaying faces pressed in. One of the corpses ferally slammed an exposed elbow against the glass, and the cracks widened. A second joined it, and another one. The glass shattered and hands and arms reached through, pushing chairs away.

Fuck, they had to get out of here. Right now.

She looked back toward the door where Derowen had been and found the room in front of her empty.

Vex froze. She heard footsteps creak behind her, but she was too late. The sword dropped too low, and Derowen took full advantage of her distraction, grabbing her arm and pulling her off balance while at the same time lunging at her side.

Vex twisted, but not far enough. Derowen stabbed deeply. Her blade cut through skin and sinew, above her hip, and Vex felt it tear into her. Her vision swam. Her leg gave way from under her.

She dropped to one knee and the sharp stab of pain that arced through her was the only thing that kept her grounded. She tightened her grip on the sword and slashed at Derowen’s leg, slicing straight through the calf muscle.

She brought up an arm to push away the downward lunge of the poniard, and it skidded off the leather bracers. Somehow, Derowen managed to keep standing, and Vex rolled out of the way, desperately trying to find cover.

All she saw was blood and ashes. Skeletal hands pushed the windows open. Tendrils of ash solidified around them. The sun’s glow danced through the motes, and it gave the talons and faces an eerie glow.

The walkers pushed through and skittered closer. They seemed to congregate on the Shademaster, circling her, circling them both.

Vex tried to crawl away from the dead when Derowen stepped closer, her blades at the ready. She knew she had seconds left, if that. And she waited for the regret. The all-overwhelming realization that they should have left when they had the chance, that they never should have come back.

It didn’t come. She knew they’d done the right thing. She’d chosen the right fight. The only thing she regretted was that her brother wasn’t here. That after they’d lost each other and found each other again, after all her hopeful promises and better plans, after the distances they’d walked together and the miles she thought were still to come, he’d wait for her and she wouldn’t come.

The voices outside grew louder, and the door slammed open. A shocked voice boomed through the room. “Derowen, call them off.”

Vex turned her head and saw Culwen stride into the room, outrage marring his features. He’d changed into a more comfortable outfit, though he still wore his gloves. He frowned at her, and she saw the flash of recognition. The tightening of his jaw.

“Of course.” Culwen shook his head. “I’ll deal with you and your brother later.”

She gasped around the pain, and tried unsuccessfully to push herself up to her feet.

“What are you doing here?” Derowen demanded, and for the first time since she’d faced off against Vex, pure fear coursed through her voice. “I have this under control. I promise!”

“I don’t think you do.” Behind Culwen, a flash of red indicated the Shadewatch outside. With the heel of his foot, Culwen pushed the door closed, though it didn’t shut completely. Someone put a hand between the door and the frame. “There are ash walkers inside Jorenn, Dera. And this one and her brother know. You swore to me you’d be careful. You promised me you would take our arrangement seriously, for the benefit of our whole family. I thought you were better than such carelessness. It seems you’ve disappointed me once again.”

Vex crawled to the side of the room and watched Culwen step closer. Derowen shifted her poniards to one hand and used the other to cover the ring. “I know what I’m doing, Culwen.” Derowen’s voice took on a hint of panic, of old threats and old arguments never quite forgotten. She shrank in the face of him. “Trust me, I’ll handle it.”

The dead and decaying crawled closer, like a protective barrier around her.

The barrier. Vex’s heart skipped a beat and fresh pain coursed through her when she added up everything she knew. The cursed corpses, reacting to the gems. The ash walkers with their singular purpose. The increased attacks after Derowen got the ring. Call them off. “These things … Whatever they are … You’re not using the ring to fend them off, but you’re summoning them somehow?”

They should have stolen the fucking thing.

Culwen’s eyes flashed when he looked from his sister to Vex and back. The tight set around his jaw hardened, and he pulled his rapier. “I thought I could trust you, Dera. I thought I’d finally found a good investment, after saving your life turned out to be such a poor one.” He laughed and it was cold and bitter. “After everything I’ve done for you, after the enemies I made to keep you safe, and everything I’ve built for you and Aswin. How could you have been so careless?”

“Don’t you dare talk about my daughter.” Derowen disengaged and stepped back. She clung to her blade, but her hands trembled.

Before Vex could bring up her sword to protect herself, Culwen bore down upon them both, rapier in one hand, dagger in the other. She wouldn’t close her eyes. She would meet him head-on. But her breath caught and her heart skipped when he lunged—and cut straight through Derowen’s defenses. “You’re a failure even now.”

The Shademaster cried out in pain. She dropped her guard and raised an arm to protect her face. “Culwen!”

“It’s as I promised you, sister. You owed me a life. Now, I would have happily taken hers in payment, but I think this works out better for all. Your daughter needs someone to set her a proper example.”

He stepped in again and ran the rapier straight through her.

The shock that coursed through Vex gave her enough strength to push herself to her feet and remain standing. She swayed and staggered out of the way, around the ashen shadows that were starting to circle her. It felt as though they were sucking the light out of the room—or perhaps that was her own vision narrowing. She used the sword to keep herself upright.

“Vex!”

A guard slipped through the open door behind Culwen, and her eyes widened. There, in a bright red Shadewatch tunic and with his daggers out, stood her brother. He took the situation in—her wound, Thorn, the fight between Derowen and Culwen—and the color drained from his face. He held the door open with his foot and gestured to her.

“Go! Find help!”

She didn’t hesitate. Still clinging to the Shademaster’s sword, one hand pressed against the cut to her side, she dashed past him into a chaotic hallway where Shadewatch were tangling with another unrelenting wave of the dead. She stumbled and pushed herself forward. And for the second time in as many days—

She ran.