Page 82 of The Shadowbound King

“Is that why you didn’t wed Sigurn Brighthelm?”

I looked at him. “You know about that?”

“The shadows carry whispers,” he said, his tone neutral. “Most people don’t listen to them, which is a foolish oversight. They’re deceitful, yes, but sometimes they’re useful.”

“Like when you want to kidnap Walto Lornlark’s daughter.”

A little smile played around his mouth. “Exactly like that. But no one who knows you would ever think of you as just Walto Lornlark’s daughter.”

Our gazes held, something shimmering in the air between us. Looking down, I pressed my finger to the table, gathering toast crumbs and depositing them on my plate.

Rane cleared his throat. “What did you do in Nordlinga when you weren’t marrying Sigurn Brighthelm?”

“I looked after his father, who was ailing. But I preferred tending the horses.” I grimaced. “That probably sounds horrible. It’s just that most of the time, animals are better patients than humans. Probably elves, too.”

He smiled. “Probably.”

Eventually, we carried our plates to the kitchen.

“Would you like to visit Thraxos?” Rane asked as we reentered the hall.

I stopped, my heart beating faster. “Could we? Would Vivia mind?”

“You saved his life. Vivia will probably scatter rose petals at your feet wherever you go.”

We made our way to the stable, where Thraxos munched on a bag of oats. He snorted as we approached his stall, and he whinnied softly as he nudged my shoulder.

“Hello, handsome,” I said. Smiling, I scratched around his ears.

“You should try to were into him,” Rane said.

I froze. “You mean…?”

“Try to see through his eyes.” He leaned against the stall door, his eyes like violets in the morning sunlight. “If I had a gift, I would try to hone it.”

Confusion filled me. “You have a gift,” I insisted. “You eat shadow.”

“I’m a vessel, nothing more. You’re good with numbers. Think of my magic like a negative. It creates nothing, only takes it away. Shadow Eaters serve the light.” He nodded toward Thraxos. “Start the way you always have. Act like you’re healing him.”

Swallowing my nerves, I placed my hand on Thraxos’s flank. The familiar warmth of light built beneath my palm, spreading into my chest. I closed my eyes and reached for him, seeking connection.

For a moment, I glimpsed the green, rolling meadow beyond the Embervale. Then blackness consumed it, disorienting me. I blinked, swinging my head from side to side. Panic built and then subsided.

I was wearing Thraxos’s blindfold.

Suddenly, something struck me hard, and I stumbled. Light flashed as the blindfold was torn away. Shadows rushed toward me. Jaws gaped, rows of teeth flashing white in the gloom.

A lynx leaped between me and the shadow, absorbing the hit meant for me. Claws flashed. Blood splattered the ground.

Vivia.

She wrestled the shadow, growls spilling from her as she tumbled over and over. The shadow reared, its jaws impossibly wide. It ripped into her neck, and her growls became an agonized scream.

I rushed toward her, reaching with hands I no longer possessed.

Something jolted me, and I lurched sideways, fumbling in sudden darkness. I was blinded again, a shroud over my eyes. My hand landed on something warm and solid. Before I could figure out why my hands were working in Thraxos’s body, my vision cleared again.

Now, I stood at the base of broad, white steps scattered with red and gold leaves. Andrin rose from a golden throne and stared down at me.

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