Page 1 of A Touch of Shadows

PROLOGUE

TWENTY YEARS EARLIER

The village of Thirbridge might well have been at the end of the earth.

It lay deep in the Forest of Cellandre, in the furthest corner of the kingdom, the loneliest and most isolated place in the world. Elodie had run as far as she could go. Any further and she would be in enemy territory in more ways than one. But no one would look for her here.

She dismounted and tied her horse to the solitary hitching post outside the inn. The child was still bundled against her side under her cloak. Asleep now, thank the light.

Every bone in Elodie’s body ached. She just wanted to fall to the ground and sleep herself, right then and there. But she couldn’t.

She had to keep going. To find somewhere safe.

She had been following the lines in the earth, those places of old magic, and they had brought her here. They only skirted the edge of the village and then swirled back into the depths of the forest. In the morning, she knew, she would follow them again.

But for tonight, just tonight, she would have a meal, and food, and maybe a bath. Oh, how she longed for a bath, steaming hot, with the luxurious handmade soaps and precious oils she had left far away in Asteroth. The thought strayed to what else she had left behind and she recoiled from memories.

The child stirred. A child already, not the tiny baby she had been when they left. She had his eyes, his hair… She was the image of him…

Elodie winced and hushed the girl, stroking her long black tresses until she settled again.

‘Storm’s coming,’ said the innkeeper. ‘I warrant you’ll be staying longer than a night.’

Elodie nodded, staring at the darkening sky to the south through the open door. ‘Maybe.’

‘What’s your business?’

‘I’m… I’m a healer.’ She needed to learn not to hesitate, she chided herself inwardly.

‘You’re young for a healer,’ he commented, unaware, or uncaring, of how rude that sounded. ‘And the babe’s father?’

So he’d seen her there, snuggled in against Elodie’s side, huge dark eyes blinking at this strange world. Well, how could he miss her? She was a beautiful child.

‘He’s dead.’ That lie came far too easily. Well, it wasn’t exactly a lie. There was no father to come after them now and anyone who did… well, she would just have to take care of that if and when it happened. ‘I need somewhere to stay, somewhere to look after her.’

‘In Thirbridge?’ He sounded startled. She wasn’t sure she blamed him. Clearly, no one came here willingly.

‘Not… not right in the village. Nearby, maybe. But somewhere quiet, private. I can help your people—healing, midwifery and… and other things—but I need solitude and access to the forest for supplies.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh aye, that kind of healer, are you?’

Witchkind. The word was left unspoken between them. Elodie met his gaze levelly, unwavering. Let him think what he wanted. Better that they were a little afraid of her than anything else.

‘Do you know of a suitable place?’ she asked.

The innkeeper nodded slowly. ‘I know somewhere. Not far, but far enough. In the forest itself. But there’s a darkwood.’

Elodie sighed. Of course there was. In a place as thoroughly riddled with veins of old magic as Cellandre, there was always a darkwood. She would take care of that.

This, then, was where she was meant to be.

The child stirred again, her bottom lip wobbling. Inwardly, Elodie cursed to herself. She was not a natural mother.

‘She’s hungry,’ she told the innkeeper. ‘I’ll need warm milk for her.’

‘Go to the parlour. I’ll have something sent in for you too. Does your horse want stabling?’

Elodie almost laughed. Her horse. ‘He wants selling,’ she replied. ‘I’ve no more use for him.’