Page 14 of Where Shadows Bloom

The creature split into two as it pulled her backwardonto the grass. The head behind her opened its mouth above her; the one in front of her gripped tighter to her throat and seemed to grin as she screamed in fury.

They could not have her. They could nottouchher.

The world was shifting, sliding, turning as I cried out for her, racing across the grass. I flung myself at the Shadow astride her, knocking it away, my arms around its neck. It bucked like our startled horses had; it grasped and scratched at my arms, even as I tried to plunge my knife through its skull.

I rolled with the monster until I could hold its head down with one hand. It howled at me. Fueled by the blaze of my own anger, I bore my knife into its head. Like with the others, that was enough—it disappeared, a storm cloud evanescing away.

My heart punched against my chest as I glanced back toward Lope. The part of me that knew her to be unstoppable expected her to be standing tall behind me.

But she lay there, paler than moonlight as the Shadow crouched over her and devoured her breath. It tipped back its head, like it enjoyed the taste of it.

And she wasn’t fighting back.

My body moved before my mind could make sense of it. I was atop the second monster, screaming at it so loud my throat tore. I jammed my knife into where its eye would be, again and again, even when I was doing nothing at all, onlyplunging the blade into the dirt.

The sounds of my heaving breath and pounding heart began to fade, and the more I breathed, the more I was able to come back to myself. I was in a field. On my way to Le Château. And Lope, Lope, she’d saved me a dozen times—

She was lying there. Unmoving.

I crawled across the grass and sat at her side, lifting up her head. Her eyes were shut. Her face was still and white as marble, half of it covered in dark blood. Her lips were parted and pale, nearly blue.

“Lope,” I whispered, urgent and sharp. Still she did not stir.

I shook her shoulders; her head slumped backward, exposing her silvery throat, covered in long red scratches from where the Shadows had held her down. I gasped and pressed my ear to her chest. The galloping heartbeat I heard—was that my own?

Again, I shook Lope by the shoulders, as if it would wake her. My face felt stiff and damp; my brain rattled about in my skull, making the world spin like when the wagon had toppled over.

A voice in my head remained calm and steady, the voice of someone wiser, a voice like Lope’s, saying,She’s dead, and you need to think about what to do now.

A life where Lope did not exist—the very idea felt like a clawed hand had reached into my chest and carved out my heart.

She had been my constant companion for five years, and even that didn’t feel like enough. I wanted every moment. Every laugh, every tear, and every part of her heart I had yet to discover. It wasn’t enough time.

The truth was like an arrow through my chest:This is the kind of love the poets write about. And I had realized it too late.

I wept. My hands fisted around the sweat-slicked sleeve of her chemise, and I pressed my forehead to her chest, letting her waistcoat absorb my tears. “Come back,” I begged her at a whisper. And then, desperately, to the gods I hissed, “Bring her back,please.”

My name drifted through the air, whispered and faint.

I lifted my head.

Lope’s eyes were open. Red veins bloomed across the whites of her eyes. She blinked.

I threw my arms around her neck, my laughter delirious and high-pitched.

“You’re alive!” I squeaked.

“I’m sorry.” Even her whisper was hoarse, broken from the damage the Shadows had done to her throat.

“Why are you apologizing?” I asked through my tears, leaning back to scowl at her—but she looked so frail. Her eyes were steadfast upon me, but her lips barely moved. Her eyelids continued to droop, like she was about to fall into a long, deep sleep. I pushed damp strands of graying hair from her blood-soaked temple. My heart was learning anew rhythm,I am in love with her.

“We need to get help,” I whispered.

“Go on.” She clenched her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. Sweat beaded on her brow and she pulled herself up half an inch before collapsing back onto the ground. Her chest rose and fell like a bellows desperately trying to make a fire grow. “Go—go on to Le Château without me.”

“Are you mad?” I cried. “I can’t leave you, not in the state you’re in!”

Of all things, her full lips curved into the slightest smile. “You don’t need me,” she whispered. “I saw you... I saw you kill those Shadows.”

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