Page 23 of The Shadowbound and the False God

Raif raised an eyebrow.“Where might one hide?”

The centaur smirked then, though it wasn’t cruel or taunting. Entertained, maybe. “I’d have taken you for a hunter, soldier.”

“Say I wasn’t,” Raif pressed. “Say I wanted to hide.”

“There is a place out of his sight—a protected place, the only place in all of Elowas he cannot look into.”

“Take me there.” He knew it was unlikely that Kael would be there, but a nagging in Raif’s chest wouldn’t let him ignore the possibility, however slight. If nothing else, it would make for a safe fallback location once he managed to reunite with his companions.

The centaur recoiled forcefully, almost rearing. “I cannot—”

“You can,” Raif interrupted, his voice hardening as his grip on the rope tightened. “You will. Or I will leave you here, tied to a tree, for whicheverhuntercomes along next.”

The centaur’s nostrils flared and he bared his teeth. It was false bravado; Raif could tell by the way his eyes widened a fraction. Finally, he bowed his head in reluctant submission. “I will take you, if you agree to release me once we arrive.”

Raif only nodded, careful to avoid making any promises he wouldn’t keep. Then, he snapped the rope just hard enough to make the creature wince. “Lead the way.”

Aisling stood still with her eyes shut tight for several moments, listening. For Rodney, for Raif, for Lyre. For even the smallest, most distant sound that would tell her that they were alive. That she wasn’t alone. But as a dark fog around her thickened, she could hear nothing but the sounds of her own ragged, uncontrolled breathing. Her chest heaved as panic tore at her mind, dragging her down and down deeper into a spiral. She knew what waited for her at the bottom of that spiral, and she knew that there would be no clawing her way back if she allowed herself to reach that lowest point.

So she willed herself to move. One step at a time, she stumbled on, forcing herself to follow a singular line of focus:Kael. Find Kael.

She sought him out desperately—his face, his voice, his smell, all imprinted so deeply and permanently onto her as a tattoo that marked her very soul. As hard as she had once tried to deny him, after everything they’d faced together, he was a part of her now. And despite the risk of pain that came with hope, Aislingtried her best to let that tiny ember spark into a flame. She needed it now more than ever.

Though the centaurs had fallen off her trail and she couldn’t hear the whispering gwyllion in the trees, Aisling still felt as though she was being watched. The sensation was unnerving; pins and needles prickled across her skin. She glanced over her shoulder repeatedly, but the dense fog and towering trees obscured everything beyond a few paces. Each shadow seemed to stretch and bend and take on sinister shapes in the edges of her vision. Though she tried to tell herself it was only her mind playing tricks, the persistent feeling gnawed at her resolve.

As it always seemed to now when her mind began slipping down, the all-too-familiar tang of blood curdled on Aisling’s tongue. The acrid stench of smoke and burning flesh filled her nose as though the ghost of it still clung to her hair. She could feel those scorching flames on her face again, turning her cheeks hot and red despite the cold. It was all she could do to keep herself anchored in the moment. She couldn’t stop again.

From the corner of her eye, Aisling caught a flicker of movement. A glimmer, faint. The briefest flash of silver. She spun, peering into the darkness.

Then again, another streak of movement darting between the trees to her right. Brighter this time—bright enough that she could make out exactly what she was seeing: starlight catching on moonspun tresses.

“Kael!” Aisling’s strangled cry was far too loud for this silent forest, echoing dangerously around her. But she didn’t care what else heard her now, just so long ashedid. She raced towards his fleeing figure, coming close enough to just barely, barely catch his outline dissipating into misty black shadows.

Another trick.

Distraught, she tried to backtrack. She thought before that she was moving vaguely in the direction of the tree line whereRaif would be waiting; now, through the blurry veil of tears that coated her eyes, she couldn’t tell where she’d come from or where she was going. That ghostly fragment of Kael had turned her around so much so she wouldn’t have realized if she was doing nothing but walking in circles. As tears began to roll down her face, the first fat droplets of rain began to fall from unseen clouds.

Every so often, she would catch another glimpse of a figure in the distance, only for it to vanish again as she approached. Each time, she was drawn a little deeper into the forest. Each time, her heart sank a little further. And each time, the rain began to fall a little harder.

Finally, she’d had enough of the forest’s games. Exhausted and broken and battling a deep ache caged inside her ribs, Aisling lowered her head and focused only on her feet. She couldn’t be toyed with if she wasn’t looking.

Until a thin, barely-there tendril of shadow grazed over the side of her neck.

This wasn’t Elowas; she knew it wasn’t. This was Kael. Aisling’s hand shot up to trace the path it had cut. Though it had felt like a caress, there was blood on her fingertips when she withdrew her hand. Slowly, she raised her head.

Kael was there. He wasright there. Standing still, so close she could reach out and touch him. She was staring at him—at him, and at herself. Her head spun for a moment, fighting against logic to rationalize what she was witnessing. It felt like those dreams she’d had sometimes as a child, where she’d be looking down at herself fast asleep in bed.

Then just as suddenly as she’d wake from one of those dreams, she was staring up at him, back in her own body. Except it wasn’t her body, not really. This version of her was nebulous and swirling, Kael’s shadows producing her mirror image. He wasthe same, yet somehow both were solid. He could touch her. She could feel his touch on her.

“Walk with me, pixie,” he said, offering his arm.

Aisling faltered. She’d lived this moment before. When she looked down, her skin shimmered a pale green beneath a dress of autumn leaves. Wings tickled her back—there, but not there. She struggled to make sense of it all as Kael led her through a spectral projection of the night garden. It looked just as it did that night. It looked nothing at all like it did that night.

“You enjoyed Nocturne?” he asked.

“Very much,” she found herself saying. “I’ve not been to such an extravagant celebration in a long time.”

“I’m pleased it was to your liking. Though I know of one satyr who was particularly disappointed in how the night ended.”

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