Page 3 of A Touch of Shadows
Let it try, she thought fiercely. Let it try to take her child away.
THE PALADINS’ BOOK OF WISDOM
Listen well, for this is a warning.
Beware the places where the lines in the earth meet, where the stones are circled, and where the shadows whisper the sweetest promises. Once places of power, of old magic, they have become feeding grounds for shadow kin. These dark creatures cluster where once the light and dark met in perfect balance, preying on the unwary, luring travellers off the path and offering bargains to those desperate enough to seek them out. But a bargain made in the darkwood will never bring anything but misery and despair.
Wander not idly there.
We fight the Nox, now and always, with flame and sword.
CHAPTER 1
WREN
The fury of the storm raging outside couldn’t smother the sound of the woman’s suffering inside the simple cottage on the edge of the village. Her sobs and cries sent Elodie running up the stairs, her instincts as a healer always taking control in moments like this.
Wren followed in her wake with all the bags slung around her, like she was a pack animal rather than an apprentice. The stairs were steep and narrow, cutting right through the heart of the home, but that didn’t matter to Elodie. It didn’t even slow her down. The healer was a force of nature. Wren had known that all her life. It was unavoidable. Nothing got in her way, especially when someone was in need of help.
Lindie’s cries of pain ratcheted up a notch and Elodie vanished behind the door to the bedroom. Wren was about to follow when Pol appeared. He’d been lurking at the other end of the landing and looked as if he was about to throw up or pass out. Wren’s stomach dropped at the sight of him.
She’d loved him once, or had fancied she did. Dreamed of a life with him, rather than one banished to the forest with Elodie. Handsome, funny, skilful Pol, who was a better hunter than anyone in the village. Who had chosen Lindie.
He looked haggard now. ‘Can you—can you help her?’
The words felt like knives. Other words, words spoken in anger and fear not so long ago, rang around her head instead.
You’re a freak. A monster. I don’t even know what you are.
Wren shied back but he reached out and grabbed her arm in his fist. Her breath caught in her throat.
‘I’m needed,’ she whispered, her voice strangled. Afraid.
She’d never imagined she’d be afraid of Pol, back when the summer breeze had touched her skin alongside his hands, when they’d laughed and never had a care in the world.
But she wasn’t the only one scared now.
‘Please,’ he said urgently. ‘You have to help her. Please, Wren, anything. I’ll do anything.’
He meant it too. Pol had never loved Wren. Not really. She’d been an idiot to think he did, that he might. That it was even possible.
But he adored Lindie.
Everyone did. She was beautiful, gentle, the perfect girl. A woman now. She was no more a girl than Wren was anymore. She was Pol’s wife.
Wren still recalled the smile Lindie wore on her wedding day, when they had all stood in the village square to celebrate them. Elodie had turned away with a snort of disgust. But Lindie had caught Wren’s eye just before she left with the healer, and she’d smiled that smile. That nasty, triumphant, petty smile.
‘Wren,’ Pol hissed and his hand tightened to a circle of iron, squeezing into her skin. ‘Wren, you have to?—’
Her whole body stiffened in disgust.
She didn’t have to do anything. Lindie could die screaming for all she cared. Lindie could?—
Wren caught the thought and pushed it down, turned it aside. No, that wasn’t right. No one deserved death, especially not for having the misfortune to marry an idiot like Pol. Childbirth was unforgiving and the complications Elodie suspected here were dangerous indeed. And unnatural.
‘Let go of me Pol. And get out of my way.’
But he didn’t. ‘I know what you can do. Please, whatever it takes. We only wanted a son, and we thought the darkwood… but this… Not like this. Help her. Whatever the price, I’ll pay it. Just do it.’