Page 60 of Ties of Shadow

I let go of his arm. “I’m not a delicate flower. I am not going to wilt or break. I don’t want you to keep something from me.”

He quickly kept pace. “I’m just trying to protect you, Dayspring.”

“I don’t…I don’t want protection from information. If I’m attacked, sure, use your willowy tendrils to slap things about”—the Shade looked affronted, but I pushed on—“but you either trust me to be an adult and able to handle it, or you don’t trust me at all. You can’t expect me to choose or react wisely when I don’t have all the information.”

He groaned and wiped a hand down his face. “It’s not a matter of trust. It’s that…your life has been unfair, and you seem to have carried everyone and neglected yourself. You were responsible for those around you to your own detriment. Can’t I wish for you to live without the burden for a little while?”

I paused, sorting through whether I was offended or grateful for his comment. His sentiment was fine, but… “But you can’t decide for me. I have to be free to be able to choose.” I swallowed with difficulty. “I think…there’s a small chance that you’re right”—he chuckled—“but if I’m to figure out what is mine to carry, then it’s not fair for you to shield me from every harm.”

His other hand flared to the side. “We are surrounded by harm. I clearly trust you. I let you come.”

I caught his gaze in mine. “Then trust me a bit more.” I turned toward him, pleading with my gaze. He tilted his head as if battling with himself.

He huffed out a breath. “There’s that rumor—”

“A prophecy,” Uncle Koll interjected.

“—a rumor told by old ladies.”

Uncle Koll guffawed. “Fair.”

The Shade continued. “And the prophecy you know says: Lest the deep reject the vile ones that slink beneath and this way run. Et cetera, et cetera.”

I nodded. The Shade swept his hand through his black hair. “Well, in one version I found quite on accident in the king’s study, the first line read, ‘Lest the deep reject the vileworms.’” I blinked, slow to understand. “Uncle Koll senses the earth shifting below us in a single line. Moving in one direction. Constantly. A long, winding, movingthingthat isn’t earth.”

I glanced at the older man who looked worried. “I’m not certain, my dear,” Uncle Koll said quietly. “I can’t tell if it’s something made of the mountain that will not affect us in the least, or…”

“A beast,” the Shademurmured.

Cold like ice slipped down my spine. “Oh.” I rubbed my arms. “But that’s okay, right? You’ve got your powers, and Uncle Koll—”

“A massive beast. Monstrous. I’m not sure I could drive it back,” the Shade said.

“Especially—” Uncle Koll started.

“Especially with our animal friends in tow. It’s not safe for them,” the Shade finished.

Uncle Koll stopped and turned, his eyes burning toward the Shade. “It’s not safe for anyone.”

The Shade conceded with a nod.

“Perhaps.” I cleared my throat. “Perhaps we could go back? Try on the surface, then?”

“Perhaps. There are ways back through the tunnels, to be sure, but…” The Shade paused as we passed a dead spyring on the ground. Upside down, its legs curled around its body. It had been dead long enough that its usually acrid scent was weak in the stale air. “But we don’t have fire power to help keep away most spyrings like the prince and his men.” He stopped as the tunnel turned sharply downhill. He restarted, his voice quieter. “And the surface, as discussed, is also treacherous.”

“Also, I did collapse that one tunnel,” Uncle Koll supplied. “Making the map quite inaccurate now.”

A rumbling groan shuddered through the very air around us.

“Whoooooooooooo aaaaarrrrrrreeeeee yooooooouuuuuuuuuu?”A sound deeper than thunder hissed and scraped through my mind. Bertha stood, arching her back as the ten hairs on her shoulders stood on end. Her eyes seemed to glow in the light, and her translucent skin paled even further.

Uncle Koll set his hand upon the wall, and his eyes widened. “Run again,please.”

The animals kept pace as we sprinted down the incline. The vibration of the floor buzzed through my shoes and shook my spine with each step. The sound felt heavy, and I covered my ears. The wolves whined.

Uncle Koll stopped and pushed against the wall to our right, shoving it aside and creating a hole. He grunted, the muscles in his arms flaring with the effort. After a clatter of falling stone, he led us into another tunnel. This one felt like it ran upward and had been carved with squared off tools.

“Faster, faster!” Uncle Koll shouted above the groaning, thunderous din. He picked up a lagging pangolin, as the raccoons climbed onto the backs of the wolves. The bats screeched around us.

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