Slight and Shadow (Fate's Forsaken: Book Two) (29 page)

Sweet mercy — that was it.

He didn’t have to go to war with the mages. He didn’t have to risk sounding the horn and starting a battle: he would
scare
them away, send them fleeing for the refuge of the castle like a flock of crows. Brend had already planted the seed. His tales of Scalybones were already being passed around the Fields, and it wouldn’t be long before they began to take root.

All Kael needed to do was think of someway to bring the specter to life, and fear would do the rest.

The fires retreated, the iron cooled, and Kael was left with the beginnings of a very promising plan.

*******

When their work was finished for the day, Kael practically sprinted back to Westbarn. He went straight into the stall and saw Eveningwing sitting in hawk form among the rafters. Kael thought he looked rather guilty, but it wasn’t until he nearly cut his foot open that he realized why.

The hawk had once again been snacking where he wasn’t supposed to: a pile of rodent bones lay beside Kael’s pallet, picked clean and left sharp. But he was far too focused to be angry.

“Have you heard anything from Jonathan?” Kael said, prying a tiny bone from the leather of his foot.

Eveningwing’s head bobbed up and down excitedly. He hopped in among the folds of his ragged tunic, which he’d been using as a makeshift nest. After a few moments of digging, he emerged.

He had a roll of parchment clamped in his beak, which he dropped into Kael’s waiting hand. “Excellent — and we
will
be discussing this,” Kael added, holding up the bone. “So don’t think you’ve gotten off easily.”

Eveningwing’s head sagged low, making him look as miserable as a hawk possibly could.

Kael tore the parchment open in a rush, hoping to mercy that Jonathan had discovered something —
anything
— that he might be able to work with. His heart began thumping excitedly as he read the first line:

I’ve got some blistering good news, mate: I’ve made quite a bit of progress on our little pro —

“What’s that?”

Kael jumped.

Declan stood in the doorway, his brows tipped low over his eyes. He jabbed a thick finger at Kael’s letter. “I knew it. I knew you’ve been up to something — shooting off right after dinner, whispering to your feathered pet. Don’t move.”

Kael didn’t. There was a darkness in Declan’s eyes that he’d never seen before: it was as if the black of his pupils had spilled out into the gray. His stare had grown so wide that Kael felt as if there was no escaping it. He’d never seen a man’s eyes do something like that. It wasn’t natural.

When Declan leaned around the door and called for Brend, his voice sounded completely different — as if somebody else spoke for him.

“Uh, oh,” Brend said as he approached. “Now Declan, remember to take deep breaths —”

“That rat’s up to something,” he growled. Veins bulged dangerously from his neck. “I don’t know what it is, but I don’t trust him one — omft!”

Brend threw a fistful of dust directly into the middle of Declan’s face. It stuck to the sweat on his brow and lips. His eyes blinked out from it in surprise, and Kael was relieved to see they were a normal shade of gray once again.

“Better?” Brend said. He waited for Declan to nod. “Now, what are you all fussed about?”

“The rat has a letter.”

“Does he, now?” Brend leaned around to grin at Kael. “Is it from your wee fiddler friend?”

“Yes,” Kael said cautiously.

Brend slapped his hands to his belly. “Well then, you ought to read it to us over dinner.”

It wasn’t really a suggestion. Brend’s eyes twinkled innocently enough, but Declan still scowled at him. If Kael refused, Brend might not save his hide a second time. So he had no choice but to trudge out into the aisle.

Brend made the announcement, and the giants crowded eagerly around him. They shoveled down their dinners as Kael began to read:

I’ve got some blistering good news, mate: I’ve made quite a bit of progress on our little project.

You remember that cranky old witch I was telling you about? It turns out that she’s a bit keen on me — well, keen on my music, anyways. I swear I spent countless afternoons sitting outside that door, playing the most boring and perfectly-pitched ballads I could dream up. And …

Nothing. Not a peep. Not even so much as a: “Clear off, or I’ll turn you into a hoppy toad!” Not a thing I played seemed to interest her enough to stick her horrid little head out again. So I figured since I had nothing to lose, I might as well play what
I
wanted to hear.

Halfway through a terrible tune about an armless merman, I hear cackling through the door. And it was horrible, mate: worse than being tied to a chair with two Aerilyns at either ear — one squealing while the other sobs. I swear the whole door quivered on its hinges!

I made to bolt out of there when the witch grabbed me and jerked me inside. “Where do you think you’re off to?” she said to me. “I want to hear what happens to that merman!”

So, I went on with the song — though it was difficult, I tell you. She screeched so loudly that I could hardly hear my own words. If I hadn’t been able to feel my fingers, I don’t think I could’ve finished it! But in the end, it was all worth it.

She slipped a key into my hand and said: “This’ll get you into the tower any time, you handsome thing. Just don’t tell His Lordship!”

I have to play a dirty song for her every time I go in there — she’s filthier than I am! But you’ll never believe what’s inside that tower: it’s a kitchen, mate! And not just any kitchen, but the most monstrous kitchen I’ve ever seen. There’s two stories worth of ovens and cupboards, and a climb of stairs leading up from that. I can only imagine what else is up there.

But that’s not the half of it, not even close. Guess who runs the kitchens? A whole stomp of lady giants!

Kael nearly leapt out of his skin when the barn erupted in roars. The giants grinned and shoved each other excitedly. Brend’s bellowing rang over the top of them:

“I knew it! I knew they were all right!” He grabbed Kael by the front of the shirt, nearly dragging him over the trough. “Does he mention anything about a Clairy in there?”

Kael scanned the letter, then shook his head. “No. What’s a Clairy?”

“What’s a …?” Brend snorted, but even his incredulity couldn’t take the grin from his face. “
Clairy
is the name of my wee baby sister! She was only a babe when Gilderick took her. I left her in the arms of one of the older girls — Darrah was her name. She was our neighbor, and always a sweet girl …” He cleared his throat and pulled roughly at his collar. “Anyhow, Darrah swore she’d look after Clairy for me. Will you ask the fiddler if he’s seen them?”

“All right.” Kael went into the stall and returned with the lump of charcoal and a clean leaf of parchment. “How do you spell their names?”

“Ah …” Brend’s face reddened as he glanced about the others. “We don’t … ah, that is, we never learned our letters.” He cleared his throat and pounded his fist into his open palm. “And that’s because we giants learn to read the earth and the skies. We haven’t any use for
words
.”

There was a round of proud grunting from the others. Then Declan mumbled:

“None of us can read. That’s why the rest of the Kingdom takes us for stupid oafs.”

The grunting died down immediately.

Kael didn’t say anything. He could feel the shame burning across the giants’ faces, and he didn’t understand it. When he arrived in the plains, he’d known nothing about how to plow fields, plant seed, or tend to crops — things that all seemed to come so naturally to the giants. Though he must’ve looked like an idiot to
them
, he hadn’t been embarrassed by it.

In his mind, there was no reason a man should be ashamed about something he could easily learn.

“You aren’t oafs,” he said firmly, letting his gaze trail all about the room. “So what if you can’t read? You’re clever in far more practical ways. I happen to know of several well-bred merchants who would pay good coin to learn your secrets,” he added with a smile.

Slowly, the giants broke out into smiles of their own. Grins spread all about the barn. Even Declan’s mouth bent slightly upwards for a moment — before he tucked behind his frown.

Brend clapped Kael on the shoulder — so roughly that it rolled him to the side. “Then we’ll be sure not to sell our secrets cheaply,” he said with a wink. “Now, ask that fiddler about my Clairy. And — and Darrah, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Kael wrote their names at the top of the page. “Does anybody else have a lady they’d like me to ask after?”

The requests came pouring in: sisters, friends, cousins — their names took up nearly half the parchment. And as Kael took them down, a quiet realization stirred inside his heart.

He was eager to get back to his friends, to see Amos and the rest of Tinnark rescued. But though the months had felt like years, he hadn’t really had that long to wait. The giants had waited far longer than him. Even now, their faces lit up at the thought of just being able to
hear
of their loved ones — just to know that they were safe.

If Kael had to wait seventeen years to see Amos again … well, he didn’t know if he’d be able to hold on. His hope might fade long before then. And it was in that moment that he realized something odd:

Though the giants were large men, their strength wasn’t in their limbs …

It was in their hearts.

Chapter 26

A Good Hawk

So that was it: Kael’s mind was made up. All he had to do was scare the mages into the castle, and the giants would be free to escape. If they moved quietly, they could pop the women out of the kitchen tower and be halfway to the seas before Gilderick noticed they were missing.

Granted, it wasn’t the best plan Kael had ever come up with — there were still plenty of ways it could all go wrong. But at least it was a start.

The giants’ tales of Scalybones proved to be a double-edged sword. While it was certainly entertaining to watch the mages jump at every slight rustle in the grass, it also meant that they never traveled alone. No matter where they were in the Fields, the mages always seemed to keep each other in sight. Finks rushed the giants into Westbarn the moment the sun fell and slammed the doors shut behind them. Kael could hear his boots tromping up the stairs almost immediately after that.

None of the mages wanted to be out after dark.

He knew trying to break into their cottages would be out of the question: they were probably all hexed, by now. Kael worried that he would only raise an alarm if he went sneaking through their doors. He might’ve been able to pick them off one at a time, had they not stuck so close together. While Kael liked his chances against one mage, a pair could be a problem. They might figure out a way around his powers, like the Witch of Wendelgrimm had.

Or worse, the one he didn’t kill might escape and warn Gilderick that he had a whisperer on his lands.

The more he thought about it, the more Kael began to feel like he was stuck in the middle of a crumbling bridge. If he stepped on one loose stone, the whole thing might collapse. His plan could be ruined before it even began, if he wasn’t careful. So he forced himself to be patient. He grit his teeth and stood perfectly still, waiting for an opportunity to present itself.

And at long last, it did.

One morning, he looked up from his drink and happened to spot Hob and Finks standing at the edge of the courtyard. They were in a heated conversation with a mage he didn’t recognize: a small, sickly-looking fellow. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hands shook badly as he brushed them down his tunic.

Kael thought the mages might be up to something. He slipped over to the trough closest to them, pretending to get a drink while he listened in.

“We can’t take it anymore,” the sickly mage wheezed. His skin seemed to have almost a greenish tint in the pale morning light. “It was hard enough when there were only three of us. But two mages for four barns? It’s impossible! We can’t keep it up.”

Finks picked absently at something lodged between his long teeth. “I don’t see how that’s our problem, Doyle.”

“It’s certainly your problem,” Doyle snapped back. “What happens if the beasts escape? Rebel? After Gilderick is done with us, the guards will string what’s left up for the crows!” Doyle dragged one hand down his greenish face, his eyes wild. “Two barns, a dozen doors — it’s too much. Gaff and I barely have enough power left to keep our beasts in line. If we can make it through the day without passing out, it’ll be a close thing. A
very
close thing in —”

“Fine,” Hob grunted from around his chew. He cut his hand through the air before Doyle could thank him. “But I won’t have my men taking double duty the whole night. If there
is
something out there,” his face pinched tight as he scanned the Fields, “we need to be strong enough to face it. Gilderick obviously isn’t going to help us.”

Doyle’s hands began shaking all the more vigorously as he glanced about him. “Something’s out there? What sort of something?”

Hob shook his head. “I don’t know … whatever it was that got Stodder.” He turned to Finks — who’d been watching gleefully as fear spread over Doyle’s face. “You’ll go to the Pens at first watch.”

His smile immediately vanished. “Why me? Why not Churl or Bobbin?”

Hob stuck out his lip. “I
will
send Bobbin — to relieve you at third watch. You’re not to move until he comes for you. And you know very well why not Churl,” he added with a snort. Then he waved Doyle away. “There you are. Problem solved. Now back to your Pens, you little boil.”

Kael hurriedly dipped his chin into the trough as the mages walked by. But Finks spotted him anyways. “Get to work, rat!” he screeched.

The stench of magic on his breath was slightly muted by another foul odor … one that Kael recognized immediately. As Finks chased him off, he couldn’t help but notice that his boots made a wet, squishing sort of noise every time he brought them down.

Kael was puzzled by the time he caught up with the giants. “Why does Finks smell like pig dung?”

Brend exchanged a quick look with the others — then he burst out laughing. “Oh, I can’t believe it! He’s gone and done it, then? I’ll admit, I never really thought he would.”

“Would what?” Kael said.

When the giants saw the confused look on his face, the laughter started up all over again. Brend plunked an arm across his shoulders. “Well, I
might
’ve let slip that putting a handful of pig droppings in both boots would be enough to hide a man’s scent from Scalybones,” he admitted, his eyes glinting with his smirk.

“I hope Fate never learns of your deeds, Grainer,” Declan said with mock severity. “Even the crows would hide from your mischief.”

Brend shrugged. “Oh, Fate’s right fond of my mischief. And the crows are just ruffled that they didn’t come up with it!”

The giants wandered off down the road, laughing and carrying on, and Kael followed at a much slower pace. He realized that if he wanted a chance to stir up some mischief of his own, he would have to act — tonight.

*******

Eveningwing woke him an hour before the third watch. Kael could practically hear his limbs groaning in protest as he climbed to the roof.

He followed the hawk’s drifting shadow to the shed behind Northbarn. Armed with a bone he’d salvaged from Eveningwing’s latest snack, Kael set about picking the lock.

“How do you know all of these things?”

Kael looked up distractedly. He was surprised to see Eveningwing as a human once again, wearing nothing but the black breeches he’d nicked from Ludwig. “I’ve spent a lot of time around pirates, lately,” Kael explained. He felt around inside the mechanism for the tumblers, careful not to snap the bone. “You can’t help but learn these sorts of things … ha!”

There was a satisfying
click
as the lock sprang free. After all his time away, he worried that his skills might’ve gotten a little rusty. He still wasn’t nearly as quick as Lysander, but he was learning. And he actually thought he was getting rather good.

He pulled the lock free and handed it to Eveningwing, who tucked it into his breeches pocket. “But you’re a Marked One,” he whispered. “I saw you tear my shackle in two. Why didn’t you just break the lock?”

Kael felt around in the darkened shed, searching for tools. “I don’t want the mages to know we’ve been here. If they see the lock’s been busted, then they’ll know that someone has broken in. But they’ll be even more afraid of us if it looks like nothing has been touched.”

“Why’s that?”

Kael squinched up his eyes, trying to see something — anything — in front of him. But the darkness was far too thick. “Because they won’t be able to explain it. There’ll be no reason for why Bobbin has disappeared. It’ll just be … bizarre.”

“That’s silly. I’d be much more afraid of a predator than nothing at all.”

“It’s a human thing,” Kael said impatiently. “We always have to have an answer for everything. And when we don’t, we try to imagine one. Sometimes what a man can dream up is far more terrifying than anything he can explain. Now, where are those blasted shovels?”

Eveningwing reached past him and with no trouble at all, plucked two shovels out of the darkness.

Kael took the one he offered. “How did you do that?”

“It’s a shapechanger thing,” he replied. And even though Kael couldn’t see his face, he knew the boy was grinning.

They jogged out to the main road, their shovels propped over their shoulders. On either side of the path was a shallow ditch, a pair of trenches that had been dug to keep the rain from flooding over it. The ditch wouldn’t provide them with much cover, but it would be better than nothing.

Kael marked where they would dig with a line in the dirt, and then they got to work. Eveningwing wielded his shovel clumsily at first, but he learned quickly. Soon he was slinging chunks of earth so zealously that they wound up several feet behind him. Kael had to remind him to keep the dirt a little closer to the hole.

“What’s it like to be a shapechanger?” Kael said. He was feeling good about their pace: they were already halfway done, and still had plenty of time to dig the rest. He saw no harm in talking.

Eveningwing straightened up for a moment. He appeared to be thinking. “Be more specific,” he finally said.

“All right … how did you become a shapechanger?”

Eveningwing’s eyes closed for a moment. “I don’t remember. Some nights I’ll have dreams of a great battle. I’ll see myself standing in a shadowy arena … I think that might have something to do with it.” He tossed another shovelful of earth to the side. “None of us remember exactly how it happened. Bloodfang used to say it was because Fate hid the memory from us — so that there would be no bitterness between our two halves.”

Kael stopped digging for a moment. “Your two
halves
?” When Eveningwing nodded, it only gave him more questions. “What does that mean? I’m sorry if I’m bothering you,” he added. “I just want to learn —”

“Your questions are welcome,” Eveningwing said with a smile. “Most humans would rather kill us than talk to us. What your giant friend said is true: I
am
half beast,” he admitted. “All shapechangers are bonded souls — one human and one animal. It’s our binding that allows us to take each other’s shapes. I — Eveningwing the hawk — am the one who speaks for us. But the boy I bonded with is still here.” He tapped the side of his head. “We protect each other. I know the secrets of the earth and he knows the words of men. So we’re able to live in both worlds. Does this make sense?”

Kael nodded, though now he had even more questions than before — and one of them glowed more brightly than all of the others. He could feel it sitting at the bottom of his heart, seething a hole through the muscle. But though it burned him fiercely, he simply didn’t have the courage to ask.

“You said you had a friend who was a shapechanger?”

Kael nodded, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Why didn’t you ask her these things?”

“I tried,” Kael grumbled. “She wouldn’t answer me. Anytime I brought it up, she’d get so stubborn about it. She was completely impossible, really. I don’t know why she was so blasted protective …” The world swam in front of him and Kael sat down hard. He forced himself to push all thoughts of Kyleigh from his mind. The black beast retreated, and his strength came back to him quickly.

“You miss her,” Eveningwing said.

Kael knew it wasn’t a question, but he shook his head anyways. “No, I don’t.”

“Then why do you smell so sad?”

He didn’t have an answer for that. “Let’s just finish this before Bobbin shows up, all right?”

Kael went immediately back to work. He could feel Eveningwing’s eyes on him, boring through him — but he didn’t look up. Eventually, the boy went back to his shoveling, and it wasn’t long before their man-sized hole was finished.

They lay on their bellies in the ditch, watching over the road for Bobbin. Kael’s stomach twisted when Eveningwing pressed the knife into his hand. “Don’t let me lose control,” he whispered. “I don’t care what you have to do: punch me, choke me — just don’t let me go wild again, all right?”

Eveningwing nodded slightly. “You’re doing the right thing,” he whispered back. “Any good hawk protects his nest from serpents.”

Kael didn’t feel like a good hawk. He didn’t relish killing a man in cold blood, no matter how wicked that man might be. It didn’t feel like a brave thing … but he supposed it had to be done.

They saw Bobbin from a long ways off. He spent most of his time in the eastern Fields, so Kael didn’t know much about him. Though he
did
have a very peculiar gait, and that was precisely how they recognized him.

As Bobbin traveled across the Fields, he seemed to jump or skip every few steps, wandering along like a man with a wounded leg. Every now and then, he would come to an abrupt halt and sling his whip at the grass — sending a blast of wind that parted it straight down the middle. He leapt back at nearly every sound; his head twitched away from the soft gusts of wind.

He was so worried about the noises around him that he wandered straight into their trap. Bobbin’s odd, skipping gait made it difficult to find a clear shot. But when he stopped to inspect another clump of grass, Kael saw his chance.

The curved knife left his hand, glinting as it spun end over end towards Bobbin. He heard a faint gasp and a
thud
as the mage toppled over.