“I heard a scream,” he whispered.
I leaned forward, straining to hear. “I hear nothing.”
We fell silent, waiting. It didn’t seem as though the rest of our party had heard anything, either. But when my gaze moved to Arrick, he sat straight as a rod in his saddle. He’d pulled his hood over his head, hiding his face. His head moved with short jerks as he surveyed every inch of the forest around us.
We kept our pace, steady and clipped. I listened until I imagined screams and everything terrifying. My vision jumped from tree to tree. I had just started to convince myself the danger was only in my head when we emerged from a tunnel through one of the black cedars. I saw the raven first, perched on a low hanging branch, its beady eyes fixed on our caravan. Then a true scream, loud and wrenching, ripped through the air.
The horses surged forward. More prepared this time, Oliver and I dug our heels into the bellies of our mounts and chased after the rebel army and Cavolia. We stayed closer this time, trailing by only a little.
The highway speared through another black cedar and then we found them.
The Ring of Shadows.
Six of them, dressed in black and wielding death as though it was a tangible weapon they held in their hands.
They turned to face us one at a time and I realized that no matter what had happened in my past, this was the moment I truly and finally faced real evil.
15
The Ring of Shadows was as dark as its name suggested. The troops were dressed in black from the hoods that hung low over their foreheads to the leather boots propped in equally black stirrups. They sat atop black leather saddles on black horses. Their hands were covered with black gloves and they wielded swords with blades made of dark steel.
The only thing that wasn’t the color of inky death was the stone embedded in the hilt of their swords. One large, sparkling diamond settled in the base, so white it appeared almost blue. It caught the sun no matter how they positioned their weapons, glinting aggressively. In fact, the jewels seemed to pull in the light as if they were made from something more than just gemstone.
The Shadows stood in front of a wagon filled with perfume and oil, whose scents we could smell in the wind. A family cowered in front of the wares, clutching each other in panic.
“The rebel army,” a Shadow sneered.
Arrick urged Thief forward. “This is not your ground,” he said to them.
The six of them shared a look. Their mouths were hidden behind black scarves, but their eyes flashed with hostile amusement. “Is it not?” one of them taunted. “How foolish of us.”
“You know that we punish trespassers,” Arrick allowed, barely masking the tone of hope. Not hope of a positive outcome, but hope of battle. He wanted to fight these mercenaries. He wanted to punish them for the villages we had seen living in fear, the village we had rescued from flame, and all the other torture these Shadows had inflicted on the realm.
“Aye,” the Shadow said. “And you know that our threats go far beyond mere punishing. Engage us, Arrick Westnovian, and we’ll end you.”
It was Arrick’s turn to sneer, “I welcome the challenge.”
Blades lifted on either side. My hand fell to my hip where I found my own short sword hidden beneath my cloak.
“We have no fight with you, Rebel King,” the same Shadow declared. “Our fight is the same as yours—against the powers that be.”
Arrick did not seem to enjoy the comparison. His words came out with barely restrained fury. “It’s interesting then, how you attack the innocent and powerless.”
Oliver coaxed his horse in front of mine.
“Be on your way, Shadows,” Arrick ordered. “Out of the forest. Out of Tenovia. Out of this realm.”
“We heard the rebels were on the move,” a Shadow’s glare fell to me. “But we had no idea you were carrying such beautiful cargo.”
A different Shadow spoke up next, “Has the Rebel King finally found a wench to occupy his nights? Or is she of greater importance than keeping the king of thieves’ bed warm?”
“I told you to be on your way,” Arrick snarled. He revealed his blade, pulling it halfway from its sheath.
A part of me wondered why we hadn’t started doing just that already. I was beyond ready to make these men pay for their sins.
A raven cawed nearby and every Shadow lifted his head to follow the sound. The great black bird, a bird I was realizing was very common in the Tellekane Forest, took flight. Its silky, feathered wings flapped with long thrusts as it soared upwards.
The Ring of Shadows shifted as their horses moved restlessly beneath them.
Behind the six Shadows that surrounded the merchant family, horses and riders flooded from the forest, funneling onto the highway. I counted ten, then twenty, then lost track.
The six in front of us appeared restless to move as well. They tilted their heads at Arrick, imparting a respectful goodbye, and raced off to join their comrades.
Confusion over their familiarity with Arrick pulsed with fear as I watched the black clad Shadow riders disappear around a bend in the road. Had they truly meant to fight Arrick? Or was there an allegiance that I had missed?
Gunter was Arrick’s friend and enemy. Could the same be true about the Ring of Shadows?
More reasons not to trust the Rebel King.
More reasons to fear the Ring of Shadows.
I had heard of their stealth before, but I hadn’t even noticed the army cloaked by the trees. I had been too focused on the six men I could see.
The rebels and Cavolian riders talked in low voices and Arrick and Gunter leaned in again, snarling a conversation that I could not overhear. It was clear that none of these men had expected to run into the Ring of Shadows.
“We ride on,” Arrick declared at
