Shadow Study
Page 79Ah. The horses either couldn’t fit inside the tunnel or were too scared to go underground. Onora’s plan had merit, but Janco still didn’t trust her. And Valek had ordered him to keep an eye on her.
Janco waited a few minutes before dashing through the illusion. A brief surge of fire ringed his head before dying down. The circle of torchlight retreated deeper into the cave. He summoned the courage to follow. Janco hoped it was a short tunnel.
After all, he hadn’t had time to eat or pee.
23
YELENA
I released the reedwither plant and spread my hands wide.
“Good. Now stand and turn around slowly,” the man behind me ordered.
Wondering why Kiki hadn’t warned me of his presence, I straightened and faced him. A tall and muscular Sandseed warrior watched me. I didn’t recognize him. He held a scimitar in his left hand and another dagger in his right. His skin was the color of shadows and he had a green-and-brown-patterned cloth wrapped around his waist. It must be for modesty because the rest of his body was bare despite the cold.
Unconcerned, Kiki grazed nearby.
“You must continue on your journey,” he said.
Not a chance. “I need to collect—”
“It is forbidden to harvest the reedwither.”
“Why?”
“It is a powerful poison.”
“I know. I may have been injected with it.”
I stifled a sarcastic retort. No need to upset the well-armed man. “I have healing abilities. I may have stopped the poison from killing me.”
He stepped closer. “I sense no magic from you.”
All right, time to try another tactic. “I’m friends with almost all of the surviving Sandseeds, but I’ve never seen you before. Who are you?”
The Sandseed puffed out his broad chest. “I am the guardian of the reedwither plants.”
Plants. As in plural. At least there were more.
“Do not think you can steal from another patch,” he said. “I watch all.”
And that would only be possible if... “There’s a magical shield over the plants, and when it’s broken, you appear.”
“Yes.” His eyebrows pinched together, rippling his bald head.
“And you wait in the shadow world.”
“How do you know this?” he demanded.
“I’ve been to the shadow world.”
“Not possible. You are not a Sandseed Story Weaver.”
“I was the Soulfinder.”
“Was?” Confusion gripped his expression. “You cannot undo what is done.”
“Who is your father?”
“Esau Liana Zaltana.” Although I had no idea how his name would help.
“I know this Esau.”
Then again... Hope rose.
“He will not be able to aid you. This plant cannot do what you claim.”
“How can you be so sure? No one has used it on a Soulfinder before.”
“True.” He tucked his weapons into the cloth around his waist. “But I know I have not been called from the shadow world to protect the plant for many years.”
I considered. Some substances remained potent for years. “Did they succeed?”
“No one has since I have been on duty. Before I died, my life threads were woven into the reedwither plant so I could protect it while in the shadow world.”
“How long ago?”
“Back when your father, Esau, was a curious young boy, visiting the plains for the first time. Esau asked so many questions, I thought our elders would send him home early.”
Sounded like my father. A mix of emotions rolled through me. If the poison wasn’t from the reedwither plant, then what had caused my magic to disappear?
The Sandseed moved closer and spread his hands. “May I?”
“May you what?”
“You’re a Story Weaver?”
“Yes.”
Sifting through the logic, I couldn’t think of a reason not to let him. Perhaps a ghost Story Weaver would be able to discover what happened to my magic. “All right. What’s your name?”
“Midnight Son.” He grasped my hand. “There is a...barrier.”
I’d forgotten about the null shields. Releasing his grip, I removed my cloak and pulled the octopus pendant from around my neck, setting it down with care. A cold breeze caressed my skin and I shivered.
Midnight Son took my hand in both of his. Heat enveloped my skin and I panicked for a moment, remembering the Fire Warper. Stupid of me to trust so easily. Midnight Son could be from the fire world. And now I was unprotected.
“You do need to be more careful,” Midnight Son said, holding tight. “You are very vulnerable.” His gaze grew distant. “Your story threads are complex and woven into an intricate pattern.” He chuckled to himself. “No wonder my son struggled at times. And why the elders believed he was the only Story Weaver up to the challenge.”
“Your son?”
“Moon Man.”
I relaxed and wondered why I hadn’t noticed the resemblance. The weapons must have distracted me.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes.” My voice squeaked.