Page 66 of Swords of Soul and Shadow
It was the other man, Lord Saldr, who spoke next. “Lord Jove fought bravely in the fight for the city, and we hope to search for him soon as we are able. My people and any spare soldiers are trying to find a way down into the depths of Yalvara to search, but it may be best to prepare your heart for the worst. I am sorry, Lady Shackley.”
Clara could barely comprehend the words coming from the man’s mouth. All she could think was of her husband and the pain he was probably in, if he was even alive to feel it. She was here, safe, and he was either suffering or…or…
She took several shaky breaths, trying to calm the storm raging within her. “So all is not lost? There is some hope he may have survived?”
Harlan cleared his throat and smoothed his mustache again. “We believe so, but without electricity, we must find the right equipment and personnel to search, which isn’t apriority at the moment because of the crisis on our hands.” He leaned forward and ran a hand through his hair, mussing it in a way Clara had never seen. “As for Les, we have not been able to interview enough survivors who may know her fate. Our reconnaissance to the Manor only showed Thoreau and Zuri did not survive the initial attack.” Clara gasped; he paused after naming the butler and the maid, allowing her a moment to recompose herself before he added, “But we found no evidence to suggest Les had also been killed. She may have been kidnapped, particularly if the Cerls were aware of who she was, but we must not rush to conclusions just yet, not until all avenues have been trod.”
Clara closed her eyes against the tears that continued to fall. If she hadn’t been at the gates, if she had waited or had been on her way, she might have suffered the same fate.
“It is a great relief to have found you, Clara,” Harlan said, gruffly. “And once we are able to assess our current situation, I will do everything in my power to find them both. Until then, I will assign a rotation of guards to secure your location and person. You may go about as you have done, working in the ward and helping out where needed, but please do not put yourself into harm’s way.”
She wiped away her tears and sniffed. “And my mother? I’ve been told she was outside the city when the gates were closed.”
“I have a lead, and I will bring her to you if we do indeed find her.” Harlan rose from his chair and offered his hand. “I apologize for how little information I have to give you, but I would not lie to you, for that would be a much greater disservice.”
She stared at his offered hand, uncertain, before taking it and rising as well. “Thank you.”
He let go of her hand and cupped the back of Samuel’s head. “Stay safe.”
And then he turned away.
Clara left after that, her guards escorting her through the masses once more. She was numb from the information he’d heaped upon her, and she didn’t know what the next day held, but her father-in-law’s behavior distracted her from those worries.
He’d been indifferent in the past, but this was almost kind—especially in the face of such terrible news.
Everything happened for a reason, and while she hated that it had taken the destruction of the capital to wake Harlan Shackley up, she was gratefulsomethinghad. If it truly had.
If that was the case, she prayed it worked—for his sake, for Samuel’s, and for Jove’s.
Chapter 13
IN DIFFERENT WAYS
Kase
AFTER ANOTHER DAY OF FLYING until Kase physically couldn’t continue, they stopped for the night and made camp, after which Kase fell asleep the second his head touched his pack. He dreamed of the towns he’d bypassed for fear that the Cerls had overtaken them, too; dreams of bodies strewn in the streets and of buildings decimated by bombs. He relived his dogfight at Nar, except this time he was the one who went up in flames.
The dawn rays burned his lids, and the acrid smell of smoking meat wafted past his nose. Kase jolted awake, wiping dried spittle from his chin with a grimace and clawing around for his electropistol.
“Whoa, there. We’re fine, son,” came Stowe’s voice from a few paces away.
Kase stopped rummaging through his pack and looked up to find Hallie’s father roasting some sort of fish on a spit. The fire was small, and with the early sunlight, the smoke wouldn’t be as noticeable. His breathing slowed.
He pushed himself up and dusted off his trousers. They’d accumulated a collection of dry grass and leaves in the night. “Didn’t know there were fish nearby. I’m starving.”
And he was. Whatever energy he’d gained via the hardtack he’d consumed the day before had dried up with his night of fitful sleep.
Stowe tested the fish with his fingertips. “There’s a small creek in the woods right through there, not too far. Kept you in sight while I set up a line.” He removed the fish from the fire and inspected the meat once more. After a second or two, he nodded and handed the spit over to Kase. “Yep, should be roasted right good.”
“Thanks.”
Stowe took a swig from his canteen. “No good spices on hand, course, but it’ll hold you over. Filled up your water, too. I’m looking forward to a good meal once we make it to the capital. Heard stories about the fine cuisine.”
Kase bit into the roasted fish, which was really a whole bunch of juicy, slightly charred nothing. He didn’t have the heart to say how much he hated fish. He didn’t think it was the taste, necessarily, but rather the smell…and the fact that while Stowe had removed the fins and the skin, the dead thing still had eyeballs looking at him. Clearly Hallie had inherited her lack of cooking skills from her father.
He choked it down regardless and prayed he didn’t chuck it up later. Stowe might take his criticism just as well as his daughter had.
“You must be dead on your feet,” Kase said after swallowing another disgusting mouthful. His lack of grimace atthat one could’ve earned him a place in the theater. “I would’ve taken over watch.”
