Page 22 of Ties of Shadow

“Well, the seers told him a prophecy.”

“Which prophecy?”

I shrugged, studying a very interesting crack between the stones on the floor and picking at the fabric near my thigh. “Something about how my powerlessness was going to ruin everything, and as things turn black as pitch, someone has to be sacrificed.” I rubbed the place where the arrow had pierced my flesh, the images of the previous night flashing through my mind. Images of those I thought I could count on for protection, friendship, or moral leadership. All had failed me. I could see my father’s stricken face but frozen body, my king’s apathetic but hungry observance, the prince’s deadly request. His mild regret didn’t make up for the betrayal—demanding my life to save his. Well, his, the kingdom’s, and the queen’s. Guilt surged along with anger. “I was the only way the queen would live. The goat was not an adequate sacrifice, they said. My father…” The words stuck in my throat, forming a ball of pain that swelled and ached, and I fell silent.

The Shade mercifully moved on. “I’ve heard this prophecy. It’s a convenient one.”

I turned my eyes to him, frowning. How could he have heard it?

He merely shrugged and walked on. “It was passed around many years ago.” He turned back with a smile. “Who else is as black as pitch and has doomed the land to death and decay?”

I vaguely remembered those words. “I mean, you are the Shade. Your magic is very black.”

“Ah, yes. Black magic, black heart.”

“Sir! I didn’t say th—”

He abruptly turned to head up yet another stairway, cutting me off. This one landed us in a large sitting room with a plate of rolls, pastries, and a teapot. He sat heavily in the chair, and his shadows pulled up a chair for me. Windows on two sides of the room let in the early morning light. Had I slept a whole day? I turned my face toward the sun like a flower—the manor had been very dark.

We were so high. I approached the window to see that we were hundreds of feet up though not quite at the top of the cliff. Birds flitted around, free and weightless, entering and exiting holes on the adjacent cliffside.

“The problem with prophecies is that one can always pick out the tasty bits and discard the rest, Dayspring.” He picked up a roll and pulled it apart. “For example, I am an excellent villain that the good prince of fire and light can battle against.”

“You do seem to send a lot of black storm clouds.”

The Shade took a bite of his roll. He had a penetrating gaze and raised brow as he considered my words. “So it would seem.” He passed me a pastry. “Tell me about this father of yours.”

My throat threatened to close again, but somehow, it was easier to talk about up here. “My father is an herbalist. He makes the queen’spotions to help her feel better, give her strength.” The Shade remained quiet, watching me, and I rushed to fill the empty space. “He brought us here after my mother died. We had lived in Aswan.”

“By the ocean?” he asked. I nodded. “That must have been quite the journey.”

“It was. Mother had just died. He burned his bond mark right before we left, and it festered some as we traveled. We barely made it with the small trading caravan because he became so ill. I was six, almost seven, but I remember how worried I was for him. It was such a long trip—not one I would make again easily.”

My feet and back had ached, and my father’s bandages stank as he changed them nightly. Despite the common healing potions, his arm had been swollen and dripping and red the whole trip.

“And your arrival at the castle? Was it a warm welcome?”

I laughed once. “I mean, it was fine at first. I was often passed off to the prince’s tutors as I had no mother. But later, I was tossed to the servants when my magic never surfaced.”

“You had no friends?”

“I thought Leon was…once. There was also a servant boy we liked to run through the gardens with—he was a bit older—but he disappeared after a few months, and I never saw him again.”

“What do you like to do now?” he asked abruptly. When he stood, his shadows tilted my chair, nearly dumping me out of it. We left the room, turning down a long hall with one side full of windows. My breath froze in my throat as I looked out at the steep expanse. “Dayspring.” He murmured, ripping my attention back to him. I hurried beside him again.

“I’m sorry. I…uh. I like to do whatever pleases the Shade.”

He rolled his eyes—rolled them. I hadn’t rolled my eyes since I was nine. “What pleases me is to know what you enjoy.”

My mind whirred through what I usually did—collecting herbs, making powders and potions and poultices with father, helping Chef in the kitchen, washing dishes, helping Her Majesty with some task or other. “I enjoy being helpful. The world is better when people help others. And I love to help the queen.”

He halted again. “But what do you enjoy for you?”

My mouth opened and shut like a fish without air.

He huffed out a large breath. “That is a problem.”

An impolite scoff slipped from my throat. “And what do you enjoy?”

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