Shadowlark (18 page)

I thought of the hungry shadows that could be waiting up here—and of Wesley’s assurances that they’d all be out hunting and not in the city. I gritted my teeth and nodded.

We stepped forward, pushing against the door until the air pressure sucked it back against the rock with a slam. It was going to take all our strength, on the return trip, to pry it open against the force of the wind.

Gasping, lungs protesting the sudden shift in air temperature, I turned and got my first look at where we’d ended up. We were in the skeleton of a ruined building, something that had been hit far harder than the abandoned hotel where Trina and Brandon lived with their children. The windows were all gone, open to the outside, and parts of the wall had caved into rubble as well. We’d emerged from some sort of cellar entrance, half-sunk into the floor of the building.

The others climbed the few steps up to ground level, looking around, clapping each other on the shoulders. It must’ve been years since any of them had seen the outside, if they’d ever even come from the outside. Nina had an accent, and I assumed she must have come from somewhere else—but for all I knew, Parker and Marco had lived underground their whole lives. All three of them were drinking in the moonlight and the crisp wintery air.

I followed them up, saying quietly, “We should go back now. We know this comes out to the surface, we accomplished our mission.”

“Are you kidding?” Marco grinned at me. “This is my first jaunt Above since I ended up on the run from Prometheus’s goons. I’m staying put for a while.”

“We do need to figure out where we are in relation to the farms, the occupied houses,” Parker added, more sensibly. “When we send raiding parties up here they’re going to need to know exactly where to go to cut down on the potential for incidents.”

“You don’t know what it’s like out here,” I whispered back, wishing the others would keep their voices down. I missed Oren—his silence, his caution. Even at his most infuriating, when I first met him, his first consideration was remaining unseen. “This isn’t like anything you guys have encountered below.”

“We’re well-trained,” Parker replied, sure and confident. It was easy to trust him, to believe he knew best. He was so like my father, back before the Institute broke him. “We know what we’re doing, Lark, I promise.” He headed out, the others close behind him.

We spilled out onto the deserted street. It had snowed again while I was in Lethe, and everything was coated in several inches of white powder that glowed in the moonlight. There were tracks everywhere, signs that the shadow people came through this way on their route in and out of the city at dawn and dusk. I scanned the horizons for any sign of light, any hint that we were running out of time before the sun rose, but I could see nothing. We ought to be out of danger.

Nina suggested following the freshest-looking tracks, so we set off toward the western edge of the city. The other three took the lead, but I held back, senses tingling. Though it made sense that the shadows would roam during the night, looking for prey, I wasn’t convinced we were alone. Still, all was silent and calm, and I could hear nothing but the crunching of our footsteps and the breathing of my companions. Eventually I was forced to concede that Wesley was right. There was no sign that the shadow people were anywhere nearby.

I picked up my pace so I could walk with the others. We headed down a side street, following the tracks and scanning the buildings for any supplies the shadows might have left behind while in their daytime human forms.

The wind shifted, bringing with it the tang of coming snow. I paused for half a breath to wrap my jacket around me more tightly—and in that instant, my senses jangled abruptly.

“Something’s wrong,” I whispered to the cold, sharp wind.

Half a second later, before the others could react, a howl split the air. They all jumped, looking around, hands going to weapons and power gathering to strike. But I knew that sound. There was no fighting them, the shadows.

“Back to the door,” I whispered sharply, my voice hoarse.

“But—” began Nina. She was the one in charge of combat situations—but this wasn’t combat. They had to understand—this was running or dying.

“
Now!
” I cried. “Before they catch up to us. They’re downwind of us now—they’ve caught our scent, that’s why they howled! It’s going to take time to get that door open again, time we won’t have if the shadows are on our heels.”

Nina’s olive skin paled a little, and she nodded. Before she could speak, though, another sound rent the air, carrying across the snow—a scream. A
human
scream.

I froze, the others streaming past me to retrace our tracks back the way we’d come. “Wait.”

“Go back, stay here—make up your damned mind!” Marco hissed at me, skidding to a halt with a spray of snow.

“Someone else is out here—the shadows aren’t after us. They’re after whoever’s screaming.”

“So? That’s not our business!” Marco gave my arm a sharp tug. “They’ll slow the Empty Ones down long enough for us to get away.” I could see fear in his eyes, real fear banishing his bravado.

“Marco,” Parker snapped. “That’s not how we operate, you know that. Whoever’s out here—they’ve got to be Renewable or they’d be shadows themselves. Part of the reason we wanted a route out was so we could recruit.”

Marco protested, and while he and Parker argued, I caught Nina’s eye. If we stayed, we’d be in a fight for our lives. It was her call.

She gazed at me, brows drawn in concentration. Then, abruptly, she raised her voice and cut through the argument. “We go. We go now, quietly. If there are only a few shadows we’ll try to help. Otherwise it’s back to the door, as fast as we can.”

Decision made, the others were quick to move. Even Marco, whose face had gone white with fear, kept up as surely as the rest of us. We headed toward the sound of the scream, and as we drew closer we could hear snarls and shouts. There was more than one person there—and more than one shadow, too.

The alley we cut through opened up onto a broad avenue. A pack of at least a dozen shadow people were throwing themselves at a heavy metal door and clawing at shuttered windows—the human shouts were coming, muffled, from inside the building, echoing with each impact of the shadowy bodies against the door.

I cast out with my senses, skin crawling as my mind encountered the dark, empty pits of the shadow people. Beyond them, though, I could feel five, six . . . no, there were more further back. At least a dozen warm, glowing beacons in the darkness. Too far away for me to tap into, but close enough that I could tell what they were.

Renewables.

“They’re in there,” I gasped, eyes blurring with the effort of seeing with both senses—my eyes and my mind. “A dozen, maybe more.”

Nina was scanning the scene. We were outnumbered three to one by the shadows—and even though these rebels couldn’t know just how savage the shadows were, three-toone odds in any situation wasn’t going to look good.

But there were at least a dozen Renewables on the other side of that door, and if they heard us going into battle for them, maybe they’d come out and help. Alone, neither group stood a chance. But together . . .

I saw Nina’s eyes land on the door and knew she was thinking the same thing.

“Marco, Parker, circle left. Lark and I will draw them away from the door, and you’ll come in behind them, we’ll try to keep them disoriented.”

They both nodded, committed as soon as Nina ordered them to fight. I tried to find that certainty, to find the faith that the Renewables behind the door would help. But I knew this world too well—knew how selfish and how cold it was. Before I could say anything, though, Nina barked a command and the others leaped out of hiding to carry out her plan. I scrambled to follow. I didn’t have much magic in my reserves—but I had a little.

The shadows peeled away from the door as our shouts dragged their attention away from the barred door—they bounded toward us, all jaws and grey flesh and white eyes. Behind them I dimly saw Marco and Parker, and then they were on us. I had Oren’s knife in one hand—I threw up a wall of magic and knocked a shadow to the ground, bringing the knife down into its arm. I couldn’t bring myself to kill it— what if it was Trina behind that shadowy mask?

The world descended into a chaos of shouts, howls, the roaring of the wind and the tangy smell of blood. The snow underfoot churned crimson in places—a shadow person fell, slammed into the earth as Marco stepped on its throat. I saw Parker go down, and I lunged for him, knocking into the shadow person attacking him a half-second before its jaws closed on his throat. I felt sharp nails scrabbling at my body, squeals of animal protest piercing my ears as the shadow person squirmed and tried to get its balance back—and then screamed again and fell still, Parker’s blade buried in its eye socket.

I scrambled back, gasping, my eyes scanning the courtyard. Nina was cornered, pinned back against the wall of the building, holding the trio of shadows at bay by swinging her knife in a low, glittering arc. I couldn’t even see Marco— Parker leaped forward again, but he wasn’t a fighter, I could tell by the way he moved. He was a scholar.

I whirled and banged my fists against the barred door. “Help us!” I screamed, my voice tearing out of my throat. “We’re trying to save you—open the door and help us!”

But there was no answer from behind the door. I lifted my fist to bang again, but before I could, claws dug into my thigh and dragged me back. I slipped in the snow, dropping face-first and hitting my chin on the stone. Dazed, dizzy, tasting blood, I struggled. A pair of jaws snapped inches away from my face, and I threw what little magic I had left at it. It snarled, shaking off the blow as if it was nothing more than a nuisance. I saw blood pouring from its arm—it was the monster I’d refused to kill earlier.

I slammed my fist into its face, but it scarcely noticed. The shadows didn’t feel pain the way we did—it lunged for my shoulder, tearing the skin and sending lances of agony down through my body. I screamed.

Then something invisible collided with the monster, sending it flying away from me and rolling over and over to lie still against a snow bank. Nina grasped at my uninjured arm, hauling me up by the wrist. She’d saved my life.

“I’m out,” she gasped, exhaustion warring with fear and adrenaline on her face. “Nothing left. We’ve got to run.”

I lifted my head, but there were shadows everywhere. There were more now than there had been, drawn no doubt by the sound of combat—and the smell of blood. Our way back was blocked.

I stepped close to Nina so I could shout over the screams and howls raging around us. “We need to get this door down—if it’s broken they
have
to help us or they’ll die too. You’ve got to blast it.”

She shook her head. “Can’t—don’t have enough. Can’t push more out or I’m going to go down.”

I was out, too. Nothing left but the hungry pit inside me. Where Nina’s hand gripped me, her skin touching mine just below the sleeve of my jacket, I could feel her power—the tiniest hint of magic left. The image of the boy in the practice room flashed before my eyes—his heart stopping as the power left him.

Out here, if Nina used all her power, there was nothing in the air to sustain her. She’d die.

But if she didn’t, we’d all die.

“You have to!” I shouted, kicking out as a badly wounded shadow tried to drag itself over to us. My foot connected with its face with a crunch. “I’ll get you back inside—you’ll only be out for a few minutes, I swear!”

Nina’s face was ashen despite her color. “I can’t—Lark, I can’t.”

How do you will yourself to stop breathing? How do you order your heart to shut down?

I looked up to see Parker on his back, wrestling with a shadow inches away from his face—Marco was still missing, but to judge by the swarm of shadows by the far wall, he was too far to help us. And they were both too far away for me to touch their magic.

My gaze snapped back to Nina. “Forgive me,” I whispered to her and then closed my eyes.

I let the hunger flare up, and it snapped greedily at the tiny threads of power I could feel where Nina’s body touched mine. The power flowed into me, and I turned toward the door, feeling every bit of stolen energy pushing outward, warming my fingers, my toes, singing through my body. Nina’s body stiffened, then sagged, and some part of my mind screamed at me to stop. I had enough—I had to let her go.

Let her go!

I threw her hand away from mine and she slumped down, motionless, in the snow. I turned my attention to the door and threw the magic outward. It met the door with a deafening slam, and the entire thing was ripped from its hinges and sent shattering inward. I caught a fleeting glimpse of terrified faces in the darkness.

“
HELP US,
” I screamed at them, then turned to use the last of Nina’s magic to throw back a shadow bounding toward her motionless form.

The cowering Renewables inside were slow, far too slow, to react—but once they did they streamed out of the building, meeting the battle without further hesitation. It was all a blur, but I could tell they could fight—we’d taken out enough of the shadows that they could fight back, pushing the line of monsters further and further away.

My head spun with magic as I fought the urge to succumb to the euphoria, the delicious warmth spreading through me. Every time I tasted new magic, the hunger grew. Everyone’s was different—Nina’s tasted like cinnamon. And I wanted more.

I threw myself down at her side, uncertain even as I moved whether I was going to finish her off or check to see if she was alive. I reached for her, turning her over—her eyes stared blankly skyward.

No.
No.
There was still something there—the tiniest flicker. I could feel it within her, like a dying flame.

I pressed my cheek to her chest and heard nothing but the sounds of battle surging around us, felt nothing but the vibrations of feet running past. I could feel no breath coming from her lips. As I bent over her, the image flashed before me of Wesley, before I knew who he was, breathing for the fallen Eagle until his body remembered how to do it on its own. The Eagle I flattened. He died, yes, but only later—Wesley had managed to find his breath, find his heartbeat again.