Page 38 of What Is Dark Within Me

Bonnie shrugged. “It’s hard to say. I’ve never been to the edge myself, but Taddeas has—the handsome fellow fond of big axes. He claims he walked until he reached the end, then kept walking, and eventually found himself back at the place he started.”

The forest was dotted by trails Aleja knew must lead to the settlements dotting the foothills beneath the mountains. She occasionally caught sight of one of the palace gardeners making their way up the paths with baskets full of vegetables in their arms, but though they were quick to offer a smile as they tipped their sunhats, they rarely spoke other than to mumble hello.

Might have something to do with the time you set fire to the rose garden, her voice said.

To her surprise, the animals were friendly. Enormous ravens followed her from tree to tree, cackling when she spoke to them. She froze at the sight of a black wolf crouched low among the trees, but it merely stood as she noticed it, wagging its tail as it trotted away. Maybe this was a perk of being a Dark Saint—or at least, an ex-Dark Saint. All the creatures thought of as bad omens were suddenly on your side.

So when she heard the rustle of paws on fallen leaves one late morning, Aleja was barely nervous. She’d taken to carrying one of Bonnie’s kitchen knives, but didn’t bother drawing it; at least not until she realized the animal crouched ahead of her was not a wolf nor one of the stags that wandered onto the palace grounds to graze.

The sun was directly overhead, illuminating the forest more than usual. Even so, the creature’s silhouette seemed to flicker between shapes every time Aleja blinked and tried to force her eyes to adjust after a cloud briefly blocked the light. It was as large as a stag, but the animal couldn’t settle on a form—a large lizard, then a panther with a tuft at the end of its tail, then something hulking and winged.

And this is why I’ve never been an outdoor person. Forget I ever said anything nice about the woods, she thought, taking a few steps away without turning her back on the animal. She tried to remember Violet’s advice about this sort of situation. If you see a predator, don’t run. Keep calm. Make yourself look large.

As she took the last few steps that would bring her back to the trail, the creature stood, allowing her to get a better look at its body. Its feline torso ended in a whipping, dragon-like tail. A pair of curling ram horns protected its head, but its face remained obscured, if not by shadow, then by magic.

Keeping her eyes locked on it made her feel like she’d been spinning wildly and come to a sudden stop. Her palms warmed as the spike in her heart rate awakened her magic.

“Don’t,” a voice whispered. “It’s a Remnant. If you attack it first, it’ll fight back on instinct.”

She’d been too distracted to notice the person’s approach, but from a side-eyed glance, she knew he was an Otherlander. His profile was too perfect, his hazel eyes too bright. Sunlight touched the ridge of his nose, illuminating his skin in gold. The man pulled a hunting dagger from the inner lining of his jacket, and a flash of light reflecting from the hilt drew the attention of the creature, who lowered its horned head.

It pounced. Aleja dove to the side, hitting a tree. Fire erupted around her hands, but the Remnant hadn’t aimed for her.

The man was prepared for it. He fell back as the Remnant landed atop him, using the momentum to drive his boots into its stomach. Even now that it was mere feet from her, Aleja could hardly describe what she was looking at. The animal parts continued to shift as the man took advantage of the creature’s stumble and drove the dagger into the soft skin of its throat.

It hissed and Aleja readied herself for its inevitable turn to her. But the Remnant took a few steps before crumpling into the dead leaves. Its body glowed, a deep reddish orange like a log at the bottom of the campfire, but it did not move.

“What the hell was that?” she gasped, shaking her hands in an attempt to reabsorb her flames. The man seemed unsurprised by the witchling about to start a forest fire. He stood, brushed dirt off his dark brown tunic, and gave a soft laugh.

“You must be Aleja. One of the other hunters said they’d seen you on the grounds. You’re not about to set the woods on fire, are you?”

“I’mtrying,” she groaned. She still wasn’t used to the sight of her skin in flames, and her heart pounded as if trying to send some primal message to her brain.

The man laughed again. “One of my siblings has an interest in magic. I can’t tell you how many times he set his bedroom curtains aflame. Take a few deep breaths from your stomach. It’ll tell your nervous system to relax.”

She followed his advice, getting a better look at him as her fire dimmed. He had high cheekbones and an aristocratic nose—the face of a nobleman, at odds with his humble hunting clothes. A rabbit pelt dangled from his belt. The only evidence of its death was the small blotch of blood near its throat. An excellent shot, likely from the bow strapped to the man’s back.

“I’m Liam,” he said. “Sorry for the dramatic introduction. We rarely see Remnants in these woods anymore.”

“Aleja. I guess you already knew that.”

“It must be difficult for you here, where everyone seems to know you, when you don’t know them. You can relax. We weren’t friends back in the day. My infantry unit was under Orla’s command. Uh, one of the other Dark Saints, that is.”

As usual, she had too many questions, but the body of the Remnant was slowly being absorbed into the ground, as if it had never been there at all. “Whatwasthat thing?”

“Not something you have to worry about. The Knowing One cleared any lingering Astraelis from the Hiding Place shortly after the war. This was barely a fragment; one of their foot soldiers who escaped while on the brink of death, something between a ghost and a memory. I can’t remember the last time I saw one here in the lowlands. Perhaps your return might have drawn it.”

“Wonderful,” she muttered.

“I’ll expand my patrols and see if I can catch any others who decide to indulge their curiosity,” he said with a warm smile.

Her cheeks burned. He must have seen the way she’d struggled to rein her magic in. “It’s a good thing you were here. Thanks.”

“Think nothing of it. I’m surprised we haven’t run into each other before now. I come down from the village in the foothills a few times a week to hunt. If you come across another Remnant, a bit of fire works wonders. Failing that, they’re armored everywhere but their throat,” he said, looking at the kitchen knife clenched in her hand.

“I think I’ll stick to the rose gardens from now on,” she said.

Liam bit his lower lip. “I do have one favor to ask. We’re not supposed to hunt in the woods so close to the palace, but the deer wander into the lowlands to graze when pickings are slim in the hills. If you retell the story, place us another mile or two north?”

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