Page 25 of Ties of Shadow

I stood up and turned slowly, taking in the room thick with healthy plants. I hadn’t seen plants like these…maybe ever, certainly, not this many so close together. The racerbristles at the castle were small, spindly, and anemic, the green was more yellow, and the leaves on each branch were infrequent. Here, the plants not only grew larger but also sprouted dense, healthy branches and plump, dark green leaves. The flowers were such a bright yellow they rivaled the sunlight through the windowpanes. The flowers burst with six broad petals and orange stamens, wafting the vanilla scent through the entire room.

In this solarium, temperature controlled and protected, the racerbristles were shielded from the rapid temperature changes and even the castle’s heat. Surely, he had to know the queen was sick. Did he truly not know that the racerbristles could help her? But if he knew, how could he be so merciless toward the queen? How could he turn his back on his leaders? Guilt twisted in my chest. Wasn’t this what I had also done—abandon my queen and my kingdom?

It was too painful to consider. Brushing my hands free of this painful thought, I started to trim off the dead flowers where the mother skunk had indicated.

Snip. Dead flower.

Snip. I should have died.

Snip. The queen was dying, and I wasn’t there to save her.

Snip. Perhaps the Shade should be the one dy—No, I refused to think such horrible things and make myself just likethem.

I froze, whirling in the mire of emotion as a single tear dripped down my cheek. I had no mother. I had cared for the queen and thought she cared for me as well. How could I abandon her? Was my life worth more than hers? Did I do what was right and good for anyone but myself? My father was inconsistent at best, and…and heavy-handed at worst. He had become increasingly unreliable, volatile, and distant since we’d arrived in this land. Chef was a friend, certainly, but my hours spent beside the queen, chatting and storytelling, wrapped her around my heart tighter than the vines along the windowsills. I would have said I would lay down my life for hers, but when it came down to it, I failed. I was not the helpful, selfless person I thought I was.

I moved to another table, and my toe clipped on something that made the sound of clinking glass. Ducking, I found a box with a large pot, several glass potion jars, a stirrer, a hot clay plate, and a mortar and pestle.

Perhaps…perhaps I would make some potions on my own and convince the Shade to bring them to the queen. Perhaps he just didn’t realize the treasure he had in this room and how it could save her. Making the potions was the least I could do for now. I could only hope it would be enough.

I tucked the box back under the table. Either convince him…or sneak out and bring them to her myself. Maybe I could still help her. Sneaking around the Shade would be the second boldest thing I’d ever done in my life, but I couldn’t abandon the queen. Not when I was able to help. With a sigh of relief, my guilt somewhat assuaged, I returned to my work.

Hours passed, and the day grew hot as the sun beat through the windows and evaporated the pools that ran through the gardens. Between the misting humidity and labor, sweat beaded on my brow. The third floor was so massive that I had only finished trimming a third of it before a sound clattered through the walls—like fingernails clicking on the table or hail clacking a staccato rhythm on stone, the sounds were rapid, frenzied, and growing louder. I turned as the strange clicks slowed. They were coming from the inner corner.

I stepped closer, wondering if the skunks had awoken, but when I moved the fronds of an enormous arcing fern tree, eight red eyes, set in a twisted, writhing, armored face, glared back at me. The creature stepped forward on six legs, each twice as long as its body and ending in whip-like feet. Two more legs angled around its twitching mandible with red-spiked pinchers that pulled invisible things toward its toothed maw. Too many legs rattled forward, and a thorned knee knocked aside a racerbristle pot, smashing it to the ground. The deformed spider’s body was much larger than a forest coyote.

A spyring.

It jumped. One moment it was six feet away on the table; the next, it was right before me. I staggered back, nearly tripping over my dress. More noise came from above, and I dragged my eyes up to a gaping hole in the corner of the wall. Dozens of pairs of eyes glowed in the darkness. I was going to die.

“Mama, what was that?”a small voice asked behind me. I dared a glance at the small skunk that bumbled out from under the branches near the pool. “Mama, I’m thirsty.”The little one—Jarlz, I thought—sat on his haunches and blinked blearily around him, his tiny paws rubbing his cheek as he stared unseeingly ahead. The monster spider spotted the baby and turned in its direction with a slow tap tap tap of its legs. The pincers snapped twice, and it crouched backward like the tightening of the rope of a trebuchet.

A hissing voice whispered, “Hungry.”

Oh no.

I flipped around and dove just as the spider leaped for the baby skunk. But I was closer. My hands clutched the tiny, warm body of the baby skunk, and I dashed toward the stairs. The monster slammed into the table and stumbled under the falling plants. My spine prickled as it released a discordant wail, sounding somewhere between a woman screaming and a goat dying, accompanied by a burst from the others. The glass jar beside me broke from the sound. The other spyrings flooded into the room, their clatters becoming a roar as they rushed toward us.

“Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.”Again, the voices. Again, they were inside my mind.

Get down. Get out. Get down. Find help.

The narrow stairway gave us only a slight lead as the spiders rushed down en masse, almost too large to fit their legs, each fighting the next for solid footing on the stairs and railings. They funneled behind us. The ones that got through clambered up onto the walls and windows.

“Mama!” Jarlz cried.

“I got you. I got you!” I grabbed the pot of a plant I didn’t recognize, which was labeled as poisonous, and threw it at the closest spider. It hit the monster’s head, broke, and knocked the spyring tothe ground. The pot did more damage than any toxin from the plant. I grabbed a nearby rainboss mushroom pot and threw that instead. Violet gore splattered as the bulbous mushroom ruptured over three spiders, who collapsed in a soul-ripping wail. Their legs writhed, and the whiplike ends took out another couple of spiders as they lashed about.

The others’ chants continued, “Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.”

I sprinted down the second stairwell and onto the main floor. Spiders spilled behind us—so many that it seemed the walls and the floors were shifting like water rather than solid stone.

“SHADE!” I yelled, wondering if he was even awake. I ducked and squatted on the ground as a spyring jumped and flew at my head, the skunky bundle squeaked as I tucked him closer against my chest. Rising, I looked behind me again as we turned the last corner before reaching the doors. Grabbing a handle, I lunged forward and ran headfirst into a hard chest. The smell of pine and the cool sensation of enwrapping shadows swept past my legs. I collapsed into him, pressing my cheek to his warm shirt. “Oh, thank the stars.”

His arm wrapped around me, and I tucked the baby skunk between us. His growl rumbled like thunder and vibrated through his chest before his right hand flashed forward. “Now.”

I peeked under his black billowing sleeve as creatures of the night tore into the room. Five wolves, several raccoons, owls, big-beaked birds, and bats whipped past us. The screams of the spiders became pitiful wails as twitching legs were removed from bulbous bodies, shadows guided by the Shade’s subtle hand movements speared right through them, and the wolves bit a pincher and spikes clean off. The smaller bats dropped bulbous potions on the creatures as they flew above, a hissing green steam and killing them more quickly than my mushroom had. Great black arms of magic whipped around, protectingthe animals from leaping spyrings, rending the monsters in pieces, and even blowing up portions of the stairwell. The Shade tucked me behind him as he ascended. I tiptoed around the carnage, mindful not to slip on monster gore. Racoons, once cute, now screeched around the room, taking down spiders twice their size in a rabid frenzy.

The cacophony lasted for several minutes before everything went silent. The Shade was breathing harder, likely from expending so much magic. I huddled against his back, held tight by a broad shadow, and I felt…safe, a feeling I shouldnotbe feeling with someone like him. I pushed a hand against him, definitely not noticing the strong cords of muscle on his back, and he loosened his shadow’s hold to allow me to step away.

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