Chasing Shadows (Saving Galerance, Book 1) (26 page)

“Right here,” he said, raising his hand to the low tunnel
ceiling.

“Do you have any Snapper with you?” she asked.

“Finn, if this is the one time you don’t have Snapper,” Leon
exclaimed, “so help me I’ll…”

“Of course I have Snapper,” Finn answered, holding up a large
pouch in the air.

“Do you think it’ll blow through the steel?” Emmett asked.

“Not this much steel,” Hunter answered. “It’s too thick.
It’ll blast through wood just fine, but I’m afraid we’d end up killing
ourselves if we tried to cut through this.”

“It’s not the grate I was thinking of,” Norabel explained.
“I was going to use it to blast open the barrack door. Then I could smother the
black powder and stop it from spreading.”

“You’ll still kill yourself,” Hunter said, adamantly shaking
his head.

Norabel reached her hand out to touch his shoulder, saying,
“I won’t. You just have to trust me on this.”

“No!” he said. He took her hand and held it softly in both
of his. “I won’t let you do this.”

She gave him a sad smile, saying, “I’m afraid you can’t stop
me. Either you keep me in here to die, or you let me go. And once I get out
past this grate, you can’t keep me from trying to save you.”

“Norabel, please,” he whispered desperately. “Don’t do
this.”

“You have to let me go,” she told him. Her eyes moved from
his to the silent faces of the young men behind him. “Trust me,” she said,
addressing all of them. “Everything will be alright. I have a guardian looking
out for me.”

Hunter held onto her hand even tighter. She looked down at
it, and then up into his face. Moving slowly, she planted a timid kiss on his
cheek. Pulling away, she saw that his face had frozen in a dazed expression of
shock.

“I’ll see you soon,” she whispered, her face growing pink
over the boldness of what she had just done.

She tried to pull away, but Hunter held her back, saying,
“Wait, Norabel!”

She turned around and looked back up at him.

He struggled with his words a moment before saying, “I
missed you too.”

She gave him a smile, and he finally let go of her hand.
Then, holding onto the grate, she crouched down so that her legs swung through
the first part. Squishing her arms through, she grabbed the grate from the
other side and pushed off of it. When she was finally out, she turned around to
face the guys peering out from the tunnel. With one last, fleeting look, she
gave them a small wave and disappeared into the darkness.

She made sure to hug the wall as she walked around the
castle. She could hear a group of officers congregating towards the back of the
stronghold, so she went around the other direction towards the front. When the
main steps were in her line of sight, she took a deep breath and retreated back
into the shadows. Though there didn’t seem to be any officers patrolling the
front, which, under the circumstances, was not that odd, she still couldn’t
just walk inside. The black smoke might have migrated into the main hall, and
she would kill herself by opening those doors.

Resting her back against the stone wall, she closed her eyes
and tried to picture what her Guardian Albatross looked like in this moment.
Please
help me to do this. Give me the strength to get to the door.

She opened her eyes and looked up. There were a few clouds
sliding over the moon, moving like a leaf gliding across a smooth lake surface.
It was beautiful, she thought. And it wouldn’t be such a horrible thing if this
sight was one of the last she ever saw.

Taking her eyes away from it, she set her mind firmly at the
task at hand. In order to get deeper into the castle without dying first from
the smoke, she had to close her lungs to stop the poison from affecting her.
While anyone could hold their breath, not everyone could physically close up
their lungs like those suffering from Jotham’s Disease could. If she survived
the attack she was planning on inducing, the disease might just save her life.

Stepping away from the wall, she began to jog in place,
going faster and faster. It didn’t take long for the familiar squeeze of Jotham
to find her lungs. She had suffered from the beginnings of an attack earlier
that night when Fletcher had beaten her half-unconscious. Now it only took a
little bit of effort to prompt another.

Feeling the air drain from her lungs as they tightened shut,
she knew she had no time to loose. She ran up the front steps of the
stronghold, grabbing onto the front door and squeezing herself inside. The
black smoke hadn’t made it to the main hall, but turning the corner towards the
wing that led towards the barracks, she saw the ominous dark smoke swirling
outwards. Through the smoke, she could see the door that led to the barracks.
It was barricaded with a wooden table, but she figured that the small
compartment in the stairwell between the two doors would be more heavily
fortified.

Not wasting a second, she plunged straight into the smoke.
She was beginning to feel severely weakened from the lack of oxygen, but so far
she felt no effects from the Black Powder. At least it seemed her plan was
working.

When she reached the door, she was nearly doubling over in
fatigue. It was a mental battle to keep from gasping for breath. Yet, even if
she tried, she knew no air would reach her lungs. Digging her hand into Finn’s
pouch of Snapper, she threw a handful on either side of the doorway and then
lit them simultaneously by snapping both of her hands. She had made a small trail
about an inch long going to each of the piles, and so had a few seconds to get
back before the whole thing blew.

In a flash dulled by smoke, the table flew away from the
door, and the wooden door itself was rocked from it hinges, laying sideways in
its frame. The explosion blew some of the smoke away, but it returned with a
vengeance a moment later, for the open doorway exposed the source of the
poison.

Panic started to grab ahold of Norabel as she realized she
didn’t have much longer before she passed out. Once she did, the chances were
slim that she would ever wake up again.

Crouching beneath the un-hinged door, she crawled into the
stairwell that housed the smoking silver box of Black Powder. It was hard to
see much inside the room, for the smoke blocked visibility, and her vision was
starting to go. She fought hard to retain her consciousness as she crouched
over the box, smothering it with her body. However, she knew that this would
not be enough to stop it.

Raising her hand blindly in the air, she grabbed ahold of
the Pax flag she knew to be there. Using it as support, she pulled herself up
until her hand could clasp onto the torch mount. Stone rumbled in her ears as
the secret passageway opened. Weakly pushing against it, she created just
enough space to stick the smoking box inside. Pushing the torch mount back up
and closing the door shut, she finally collapsed back down to the floor.

Though she had stopped the smoke from spreading any further,
she knew she wasn’t done yet. She had to open up the doorway to the barracks in
order to aerate it, otherwise the boys still might die from the amount of smoke
trapped inside.

Blackness shrouded her vision like a blanket as she blindly
grasped for the Snapper pouch once more. She couldn’t tell what was barricaded
against the door, but she tried her best to push the pouch right up against it.
Her fingers shook as she weakly grasped for a pinch of the Snapper in which to
light it.

Crouching back through the rubble of splintered wood, she
crawled through the opening under the first door and rested her back against
it. She knew it wouldn’t be enough shelter to protect her from the blast, but
it was all she could manage at this point.

Her arms wouldn’t stop quivering in exhaustion as she
reached back into the small corridor. Then, snapping her fingers, she flicked
her wrist to send the spark flying, as if casting a pebble over a lake to make
it skip across the surface.

She did not much feel or hear or see the blast that
resulted. A dull roar echoed in her head, a hazy vision danced in her eyes, and
a faint touch of warmth brushed her skin. It was almost as if the explosion was
not quite there, like it was merely a memory, shrunk down so that it could no
longer harm her.

She was aware of flying for a moment. But the sensation,
though dulled in her head, was odd. She knew it was the power from the
explosion that sent her across the room, but for a second she felt as if she
was being carried. Though she could no longer see, in her mind she could
picture a great pair of snow-white wings. And in the center was her protector—her
own Guardian Albatross.

The summer sun had just lit the word in a sleepy blue
morning light when Mason heard the sound of hoof beats galloping down the road.
Immediately he shot up from the chair he had been sitting on in Norabel’s
kitchen and raced out the door and onto the street. Outside, the whole village
already seemed to be up. Word was spreading fast about Auberon’s death. Logan
had gone out earlier to hear what people were saying, and it wasn’t good.

It was the ruthless Harbinger team, they said. They tried to
fill the whole castle with Black Powder and kill them all in their sleeps.
Auberon found them and tried to stop them, and Ashlin killed him without mercy.
He was only able to raise the alarm and save everybody before he died.

Of course, they all reported that Auberon was unarmed when
Ashlin stabbed him, and it hurt Mason to admit that the reports were right. But
the part about the Black Powder and their Harbinger team trying to kill them
all—he didn’t know where that came from. One thing was for sure, it would turn
nearly the whole village against them. They would no longer have justice on
their side. The village would see them as the bad guys, and the Pax would suddenly
become the heroes.

Though the thought made Mason’s blood boil, it was far from
his mind as he watched the horseman ride closer down the road towards him. Logan
came out from the house as well and stood beside him.

“He’s carrying a body,” Mason breathed out, running a hand
down his hair in desperation. “If she’s…” he shook his head. “I’ll kill him!”

“Hold on Mason,” Logan said, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“You don’t know anything yet.”

“What’s there to know,” he said, taking out his sword and
charging forward.

The officer had just dismounted from his horse and took
Norabel’s unconscious body in his arms when Mason charged towards him with his
sword.

“Take your hands off her, you wretched leacher!” Mason spat
at him.

The officer continued to briskly walk up the street towards Norabel’s
house, blatantly ignoring him. There was a fire in his eyes, and Mason’s sword
didn’t seem to scare him at all.

When Mason ran forward to block his way again, the officer
calmly stated, “If you come near her with that, I will run you through where
you stand. Now get out of my way.”

Logan ran up to the pair and stood between him and his
brother, asking, “You’re not the leacher that took her?”

“No,” he answered simply. “Now help me get her inside.”

Mason lowered his sword and took a closer look at the body
in the Pax officer’s arms. He clamped a hand over his mouth at what he saw.

“Norabel,” he breathed out painfully. She looked severely
beaten and bloodied, and the left side of her face was slick with red.

“Is she dead?” Logan asked as he hurried alongside of the
officer.

“I can feel her breathing,” he answered. “But I don’t know
what kind of state she’s in. She should be dead. She passed through Black
Smoke, but for some reason, she’s still alive.”

Going through the open door of her house, he brought Norabel
in through the kitchen and rushed down the hallway towards the bedroom. When he
laid her down on the bed, he turned to the others, demanding for water to be
brought. Logan returned a few moments later with a pitcher and a cloth, and
everyone stared down at Norabel’s still face as the young man dabbed it with
water.

He didn’t take his eyes away from her face as he quietly
asked, “I don’t suppose any of you know how it’s possible she breathed in Black
Smoke and lived.”

No one said anything. Mason couldn’t even cope with her
being beaten, but now Black Smoke…he couldn’t imagine what horrors she had gone
through in that castle.

“How do you even know her?” Archer asked from his corner in
the room.

The official dabbed the cloth on Norabel’s forehead, and an
irritating fire licked at Mason’s nerves as he watched this young man touching
her so tenderly.

“He runs the checkpoint between Norabel’s home and work,”
Logan stated, giving Mason a shock. The officer turned to him in surprise as
well, and Logan explained, “I recognized you. Plus she mentioned to me once
that she had a friend from the Pax. I figured it must be you.”

“And you never told me!” Mason exclaimed, feeling as if his
own brother had betrayed him by keeping this knowledge a secret.

“Because you never listened!” Logan countered, growing
angry. “Not when I tried to tell you that she was in trouble. Not even when she
herself tried to tell you! Several times! You were just…”

“Guys!” Archer cut in. “Look,” he said, pointing to Norabel.

Mason’s anger instantly drained as he turned back to the bed,
watching with baited breath as her body stirred and her eyes moved behind their
lids.
Wake up
, he silently begged her.
Please Norabel. Please don’t
leave me yet.

*

Norabel felt something warm envelope her hand. The world
around her was still dark, but inside she felt as if she was filled with light.
Without opening her eyes, she knew she was alive. Relief flooded through her
like a summer spring as she realized she wasn’t gone yet.
Thank you. Thank
you for giving me a little more time.

The gentle pressure on her hand moved, and with a little
effort, she strained her eyes open to see what it was. At once she was met with
the sight of worried green eyes and warm, brown and golden honey colored hair.

“Hunter,” she said softly, smiling up at him. “I’m so glad
to see you.”

“Norabel,” he whispered, staring soulfully down at her.
“How—how are you even,” he shook his head. “You should be dead right now.”

“Is everyone alright?” she asked, her eyelids drooping in
fatigue.

“Yes,” he answered, reaching a soft hand up to hold the side
of her face. “Yes, they’re all alright. You saved us all. We owe you our
lives.”

She shook her head weakly. “Please. You don’t owe me
anything.”

“We owe you everything,” he insisted, rubbing his thumb
across her cheek. “You…”

He was cut off as Ashlin suddenly came rushing into the
room, announcing, “I saw the horse outside. Is everyone…” She trailed off when
she noticed Hunter kneeling in front of the bed.

Hunter turned back and stared at Ashlin in stunned silence,
and all at once Norabel could feel the weight of the world come crashing down
on her shoulders. No one seemed sure of what to do. Ashlin took out her sword,
but the expression on her face was that of wary confusion.

“You’re,” Hunter stuttered out, turning back to where
Norabel lay on the bed. “You’re a Harbinger?” His expression was deeply pained,
and his lips were tightly pressed together as if he was struggling hard to
accept this information.

“I’m sorry.” Norabel shook her head, floundering.

“This whole time?” he whispered out.

“I never thought of you as my enemy,” she insisted, reaching
for his hand.

“And I never thought of you as mine,” he remarked sadly.

“Yeah, none of us are the other’s enemy,” Ashlin broke in,
raising her sword in Hunter’s direction. “That’s really great and all, but
let’s be serious.”

“Would you please put that sword away,” Norabel begged,
feeling quite helpless.

Ashlin kept her sword where it was as she said, “If I do, he
escapes, and you all go to Arkadiak. Is that what you want?”

Hunter stood up from the bed and raised his hands up in
defense. “I won’t turn you in. Not if she’s one of you. I couldn’t do that.”

“Don’t give me that crock!” Ashlin exclaimed, taking a step
closer to him.

Seeing Ashlin’s sword only a foot away from Hunter, Norabel
knew she couldn’t just lie there and do nothing. Defying the sickness of
slumber that tried to dull her mind, she rose from the bed and stumbled across
the floor so that she was standing in front of Hunter.

“Norabel, no!” he said, gently grabbing her arms to steady
her.

Her body swayed as she looked out to Ashlin, saying, “If you
try and hurt him, you’ll have to strike me first.”

“He’s just saying those things so we don’t kill him,” Ashlin
insisted angrily. “Now step out of my way!”

Before she could come any closer, Mason ran across the room,
grabbing onto her arms and raising them in the air so her sword was no longer
pointed at Norabel.

“Ashlin, stop,” he said firmly. “I do not think he will turn
us in.”

“Mason!” she objected, her eyes flashing to him in irritation.

While still gripping onto her hands, Mason turned his head
to address Hunter, saying, “Get out of here!”

Hunter glanced between Norabel and the door in confliction.

“Go,” she whispered to him remorsefully. Though she wasn’t
sure if she would ever see him again if he left, she didn’t want him to stay there
and risk whatever Ashlin might do to him.

Giving her one last ardent look, he slipped past her and out
the door.

Ashlin struggled to get free as he left, but Mason made sure
to hold tight to her arms. Only when Hunter was a safe distance away did he
release her, suffering through her harsh glare as she stormed out of the room.

“Are we really gonna just let him go?” Archer asked,
looking to the bedroom window with wide eyes.

“Archer” Logan said quietly, motioning to the door with a
flick of his head. “Why don’t we give them some room.”

Logan caught Norabel’s gaze, and she wanted to stop him from
going, but she could do nothing but sway there weakly as they left.

At first Mason seemed unsure of what to do. He stood as mute
as a shadow, his forehead creased in internal struggle. Finally coming out of
it, he strode over to her, lightly grasping onto her arms.

“Norabel, I…”

“Don’t,” she said, turning away from him and taking a couple
of steps towards the wall. After everything she had been through, she didn’t
have the strength to face him.

“I’m sorry,” he said earnestly. “I didn’t know.”

She went up to the corner of the room and rested her head
against the wall. It was childish, she knew, but she didn’t care. She didn’t
want to see his face. She was sick of waiting for Mason to notice her; sick of
trying to hide her own pain as she went along with everything he told her to
do. It wasn’t right, the way Mason treated her. It wasn’t right.

“You left without me,” she said, trying to make her feeble
and tired voice strong. “I promised you I would be there, but you still went
anyway.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea that…”

“I tried to tell you,” she exclaimed weakly, hugging her
arms to her chest. “Three times! I even spoke his name to you two nights ago,
but you waved me off, saying you’d deal with it later. Did that not ring a bell
when I didn’t show up at your house last night?”

“Norabel,” he said despondently, coming to stand right
behind her.

Her back stiffened and her shoulders tensed, hoping he
wouldn’t touch her. “I thought you would come,” she admitted, her eyes brimming
with tears. “I told myself that I just had to hold out a little longer until
you showed up to save me.” She shook her head. “But you never came. He carried
me away to the stronghold, and I thought…I thought that might have been…”

She stopped, taking in a gulp of air and pressing a palm
into her eye to stop herself from crying.

“What happened?” Mason asked, the notes torture in his voice.

Norabel sniffed, shut her eyes closed, and shook her head.
“He was so drunk, he passed out while he was waiting for me to wake up.”

He gulped down hard and nodded stiffly.

“Why did you never listen?” she asked in a whisper. “Why do
I feel like you can’t stand to be around me?”

He shook his head and tried to reach out for her shoulder,
but she took a step away. “Norabel, that’s not…it isn’t how I…” he clenched his
hand into a fist. “I wasn’t thinking straight! I haven’t been thinking straight
since…” he trailed off, but they both knew what he was talking about.

Finally finding her courage, she turned around to face him. “I
just want to help you, Mason. I was your friend.”

“Was?” he asked, sniffing hard. His eyes were shining with
moisture.

She bit down on her lip and shook her head. “I can’t carry
on like this. If you want to be my friend, then
be
my friend! But if you
want me to leave, then put me out of my misery and tell me to leave! Because
you can’t have it both ways.”

The cut on her lip re-opened as she spoke, but she hardly
noticed it past the rushing of blood in her ears.

“I don’t want you to go,” he said, his sincere blue eyes
meeting hers. He took a step closer but didn’t try to touch her again.

“I didn’t want you to go either,” she stated, looking down
to her hands. “Do you have any idea how much it hurt when you wouldn’t see me
for those four years?”

“I couldn’t,” he shook his head. “I wish I could tell you
why. But I…I can’t.”

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, grabbing a handful of
her dress. She wished she could sink into the floor and escape from this
conversation, but she had waited so long to ask these questions; she couldn’t
go now.

“No…” he shook his head.

“This whole time, you’ve made me feel like it was somehow my
fault that your parents died.”

“No, Norabel. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. It was
my
fault my parents died.”

Her face stilled with shock as she raised her eyes to meet
his. “I thought the Pax was responsible for killing your parents.”

“They are,” he said, half chocking out the words. “They did.
But I was supposed to be there that day. If I had been, they might not have
died. But I wasn’t. I had left. Against my father’s orders.”

“Why?” she asked quietly, feeling her anger subside.

He shook his head adamantly. “No, I can’t. I can’t say.”

Norabel’s eyes fell and rested on one of his hands. Moving
her arm slowly, she gingerly curled her fingers around his palm, causing him to
look back up at her.