The Shadow Reader

Slowly, I nod.

“He abducted the Court’s best shadow-reader. She’s probably dead, but they stepped up the search for Jorreb a few weeks ago, started hitting every place the rebels are rumored to be, hoping to . . . What?”

I realize I’m scowling, but I assumed Kyol told him who and what I am. Is there a reason he didn’t? He’s always kept my name a secret, but the rebels know it now. I don’t see why it matters anymore.

“I’m not dead,” I tell Shane.

“You’re not . . .” His eyes widen. “Shit. I thought you just had the Sight. I didn’t know you could read shadows. Shit,” he says again. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

Uncomfortable, I grab my fork. “Do you have people over here often?”

He doesn’t resist the subject change. With a shrug, he slouches back in his chair. “I have people over all the time. As you said, it’s a big house. It can get lonely.”

“You’re lonely, baby?” a groggy voice asks.

The brunette who enters the breakfast room is tall, modelpretty, and dressed in a black robe with, unfortunately, nothing underneath.

“Not with you here, sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to her bare stomach. I stare out the window while he reties her sash.

“Who’s this?” she asks.

“McKenzie.” He loops an arm around her waist. “She’ll be hanging around for a while.”

The girl takes in my long, damp hair, makeup-less face, and plain, long-sleeved T-shirt. “Cousin?” she asks Shane, as if it isn’t possible for him to be interested in someone like me.

He laughs. “No relation. She’s a . . . business acquaintance. Now, why don’t you go get some breakfast?”

After she glides to the kitchen, I ask, “Is she over here often?”

“Carla? Nah. First time.” He shovels a forkful of waffle into his mouth. When he lowers his hand, his cuff almost dips into the syrup on his plate. He shoves up his sleeves.

He has a scar on his right forearm. It’s ugly, close to two inches wide and long, running from his wrist almost all the way to his elbow.

“What happened?” I ask.

His fork freezes halfway to his mouth. He glances at the scar, then at me, and shadows seem to dance in his eyes. His lips tighten. A few more seconds pass, then he says, “Our job is dangerous.” He nods toward my neck. “Is yours from Jorreb?”

My fingers go to the upraised skin. It seems like there should be some residual pain, but the only feeling lingering from my time with Aren is his departing kiss. It’s still screwing with my head.

Just like he intended, I’m sure.

I clear my throat. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Carla returns with an apple and two mugs of coffee. She hands one to Shane, keeps the other for herself.

“Kelly and Joe hooked up last night,” she says, sitting in the chair next to him. He grunts in response. I wish he hadn’t. She takes that as a sign of interest and launches into a gossip session on the sex lives of people at last night’s party. She never once looks my way, but in the middle of an accounting of how many guys Kelly’s been with, Shane gives me a roguish smile, and shrugs.

I’m about to excuse myself from the table when there’s a flash outside the window. Before I can identify the face peering inside, the fae fissures into the breakfast room.

Shane stiffens but doesn’t turn. He isn’t pulled in by the shadows like I am. He doesn’t see their peaks and curves and his hands don’t itch for a pencil.

I squeeze my eyes shut, then focus on the fae. An abira tree is etched into the center of his jaedric cuirass, so he’s with the Court, but he’s not Taber, the fae Kyol said he’d send for me.

“Both of you are needed. Quickly.” His English is thickly accented.

Carla stops talking. The timing makes it seem like she heard the fae’s words, but a glance tells me she’s frowning at Shane, not at the lightning-covered man standing beside the table.

“Are you listening?” she demands.

“Of course,” he says smoothly, but his brow is furrowed in thought, probably trying to figure out why we’re both being summoned.

Carla crosses her arms. “Then answer my question.”

“I said I was listening.”

“The question before that.”

“Now, Shane,” the fae says. Something in his tone tells me this isn’t the first time he’s had to urge Shane to hurry. They’ve worked together before.

“I need to go out for a little while.” Shane scoots his chair back from the table. I’m not comfortable with fissuring out with a fae I don’t know, but I want more information, and since I can’t ask what’s going on with Carla sitting here, I stand, too.

“Out where?” She transfers her glare from Shane to me, then back.

“For a walk,” he says.

She stands. “A walk. Now? With her?”

Their argument is brief. She insists on coming with us. He tells her no flat-out and leaves her in the breakfast room, fuming. No more than three minutes pass before we’re outside, but the fae isn’t happy with the delay. He sets off at what, for him, is a brisk walk, which means Shane and I are jogging to keep up.

“Where are you fissuring us?” I ask.

He barely glances my way. “Haeth.”

Haeth is a city in the southeastern corner of the Realm. It’s near the Adaris Mountains. I’ve only been there once, several years ago, to use its gate. With the Kerrel Ocean to its north and the mountains to the east, it’s a beautiful place, one I wouldn’t mind returning to if bloodshed pretty much wasn’t guaranteed. The Court must have received information saying the rebels are there. Whether they are or not, I don’t know.

Shane’s house backs up to a golf course. It’s mid-morning and the sky is crystal clear, so we aren’t the only ones out. Groups of golfers are waiting for the people in front of them to play so they can take their turns. They’re not happy when they have to hold their swings while we cross the course.

“Did the sword-master send you to get me?” I ask, glad Shane is with me so it doesn’t look like I’m talking to myself.

“Radath,” the fae answers.

“The lord general? He usually summons me through Taltrayn.”

When we reach the woods on the far side of the course, I take the imprinted necklace off my wrist and slip it into my pocket. The fae will give us anchor-stones when we reach the gate, and if I fissured with two against my skin, I’d become lost in the In-Between.

“I’m following my orders,” the fae says.

“Is Taltrayn in Haeth?”

When he doesn’t answer, I stop walking. “I’m not going unless he’s there.” I’ve shadow-read with fae other than Kyol before, but not often, and it was always with someone I knew. Besides, I just escaped the rebels, and I told Kyol I want to retire. I don’t want to be thrust back into the war.

Shane stops beside me. “I’ve gotta say I support her, Daz. Something tells me Taltrayn will be pissed if she ends up in Haeth.”

Shane’s backing surprises me. He doesn’t seem like the type of guy who gets involved in things that don’t really impact him.