“I’ve told your uncle how she does it. Don’t make me tell you,” he said quietly. “Madam Dressla told me I could clear Corwyn if I discovered what had happened—whose shadow he had taken and why you still had yours. But really she wanted you to trust me so you’d bring me here and I could find out where the hideout was and how many of you there were.”

  She smiled at him, her heart twisting in her chest to hear how stupid she had been.

  “You did very well then.”

  He shook his head. “From the moment I saw you I haven’t wanted to do what Arbil asked.”

  Adlai laughed. “Stop, Erikys. Just stop.”

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “I think I trust my uncle more than you right now.”

  “You shouldn’t. He wants Arbil destroyed, all of it, and he doesn’t care who he sacrifices to do it.”

  “You were spying on my uncle. That day you wanted to search his study—it was for Arbil, wasn’t it?”

  Erikys sighed and closed his eyes. “Arbil isn’t evil, you know. Its methods are, I understand that now, but it’s right in its ideas. Researching shadow and shadow wielders has opened up so many pathways to cures. Your powers aren’t what you think they are. Stealing or traveling. Killing. Shadows are meant for healing. You have a thousand cures in your shadow. It should be shared. Madam Dressla might be wrong in how she discovers those cures, but . . .” Erikys opened his eyes and looked up at Adlai. “I told you my brother had been sick, didn’t I?”

  “Another lie, I suppose,” she said.

  “No. He’s perfectly healthy now because of Arbil, because of Madam Dressla’s research. He would have died without shadow research.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel sorry for you? Or be glad that my parents were taken from me for research? Would you give your parents up so some strangers can live?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just wish everyone here understood what their powers could do. I’ve read your books on healing, and there’s so much left out. If shadow wielders were to do the research themselves . . .”

  “I’m sure that’ll be our first priority once we stop getting murdered.”

  “I didn’t want it to be this way, Adlai. I asked you to take me back because I wanted it to be just us. I really was planning on leaving Libra and Arbil, all of it. When I asked you to come with me, I meant it. That’s all I wanted.”

  “You were using me.”

  Erikys flushed. “I was falling in love with you!”

  She scoffed, turning away from him. “You just wanted information for Arbil. That’s why you didn’t meet me back at the market. You were there.”

  “I had to end things on good terms with them,” he said, his words sounding desperate to Adlai. “If my brother ever got sick again, I couldn’t risk them not helping him.”

  “So you did give them information.”

  “About your uncle. Not you. He isn’t a good person, Adlai.”

  Adlai turned to go; she’d heard enough. He’d been sent as a spy and he’d done his job well, so well that he was a stranger to her now.

  “The complicated thing,” Erikys said, getting to his feet in a rush. “The reason why Corwyn took your shadow but didn’t have your shadow—it’s because the shadow he took from you wasn’t yours.”

  She kept walking to the door, determined not to look back. It was just more nonsense meant to keep her there.

  “The shadow was your father’s.”

  She touched the handle but didn’t turn it. Her breath caught in her chest. It shouldn’t be possible that another lie from him could hurt her, but this one punched right through.

  “I saw him, Adlai. Madam Dressla must have some interest in him because he’s not like the other subjects. He’s awake. He’s being kept awake.”

  27

  BAIT

  “You shouldn’t have gone to see him,” her uncle said. He paced the living room dressed in shades of gray with his feet bare. She didn’t think he planned on sleeping tonight.

  “But is it possible? What Erikys said about my father?”

  Luth shook his head. “I can’t imagine why Dendray would have given you his shadow. Or why Arbil would let him stay awake. The whole story is ludicrous.”

  And yet Adlai felt her shadow had been different since the trapper attacked her. She’d thought it was from coming back from the shadow world, but what if for the last seven years she’d been using her father’s shadow? What if all that time she’d felt her shadow as a comfort, it was because she’d still had some part of her father with her?

  And now he had his shadow back. The trappers had resurrected him. If Erikys was speaking the truth, her father was alive, waiting for her in the Arbil pyramid.

  “We can’t wait anymore,” she said. “If he’s awake we have to get him out somehow.”

  Luth stared down at Adlai, considering her for a moment. “If we go to Arbil, it will be for everyone,” he said. “Are you serious in wanting to risk your life for the chance to save them all?”

  He asked the question as though there was a real chance that they could do this.

  “You have a way into Arbil,” she said.

  “I have, for the first time, a trapper.”

  “Erikys?” She blanched. “You can’t trust him.”

  “I don’t need to trust him,” he said. “I need to trust the prisoner he’ll take with him to Arbil.”

  Her uncle began to explain his plan. One of the secrets to Arbil was the suraci hidden in the entranceways. Setting foot inside the hospital meant losing your shadow to the metal. But Erikys’s anklet could store a person’s shadow inside it. Without their shadow, a person could walk into Arbil. They could pretend to be captured by Erikys and let themselves be led through Arbil’s defenses. And then when they were far enough inside, Erikys would release their shadow back and they could clear the way for reinforcements.

  Adlai stared at him. She wasn’t sure where to start on such an obviously flawed plan. “Has Erikys agreed to this?” she asked. “Because you know he lies. He won’t give the shadow back.”

  “Erikys will do as I ask because he believes in stories,” Luth said. “The Arbil pyramid has many stories of me. They know my shadow can kill, and I may have . . . warned him that his family won’t be safe if mine isn’t.”

  Adlai paled. “You threatened his family?”

  Her uncle brushed a hand in the air. “I’m not really going to hurt them. But stories are powerful, and he believes I will.”

  Adlai’s stomach turned. She shouldn’t care that Erikys was being threatened—he was a trapper, his job was to threaten her life. And yet his family members were innocent.

  “Even if he did get someone into Arbil and gave them back their shadow, there’d be trappers everywhere,” she said. “What could one shadow do?”

  Luth reached into his pocket and placed the copper watch she’d seen in his study on the coffee table.

  “It really was a trapper’s watch,” he said. “My shadow destroyed it.”

  “It destroyed suraci?” She frowned. The metal she’d seen in the market was fire, it was power—it was the trappers’ greatest strength. “How?”

  “How do we kill with our shadows? Yours and mine, Adlai, we can overpower things others can’t. We can destroy suraci.” He took a breath, but his eyes held a manic look. “One of us simply needs to get inside the heart of Arbil.”

  “One of us?” She laughed. “There won’t just be one watch to destroy. Or one trapper to get past. One person can’t do it.”

  I can’t do it.

  “One person can start it,” he said. “You have the power to destroy the way in.” He knelt down in front of her, their faces level and his voice a whisper. “You hear him too, don’t you? Manni will make sure nothing happens to you. His power will guide yours and wherever you go, I’ll be able to find you.”

  Adlai drew back, afraid that talking about him would bring the god of Death into the room. “That’s how you found me in the market,” she murmured.

  “Yes. It doesn’t matter where they take you, I’ll come for you, and then we’ll release all our people trapped up there. Think how many there are. Our numbers will be greater than theirs, and we’ll destroy all their suraci. Every last piece.”

  “I can’t control my shadow,” she said. “Not like you. It should be you that goes with Erikys.”

  “It can’t be me. Arbil knows of my power. They won’t believe one boy was able to capture me.”

  Luth came to her and cupped her face.

  “You will give the appearance of weakness,” he said. “They will never suspect your strength.”

  Adlai had to talk to someone who wouldn’t lie to her. Who would tell her, honestly, if she could execute this mad plan or not.

  It was late but she didn’t even have to knock on Kanwar’s door. He must have seen her coming, as he was waiting outside when she came up the path.

  “Did you speak with Erikys?” he asked. He had a long navy jacket on that was open, and it rustled in the night’s breeze. She tightened her own jacket, the camel one Penna had given her what seemed like a lifetime ago.

  She nodded. They should go inside to talk, and yet Kanwar seemed to know that she wasn’t going to step inside the house Erikys had stayed in.

  Cold as the night was becoming and with no destination in mind, they began walking. Kanwar’s strides were slower than usual. He turned to her after a beat of silence. “And is he really . . .”

  “A trapper,” she finished for him. “My uncle thinks he can use him to get into Arbil.”

  Kanwar frowned. “Use him in what way?”

  Adlai told him. Her voice shook as she repeated the plan, and she wasn’t sure if it was from fear or excitement. She wanted to be the hero, she realized, but she was afraid.

  “And does your uncle intend to bring many casters with him?”

  “I don’t think he’s bringing any. He said he’d free the ones in Arbil.”

  Kanwar stopped walking. “But if the plan works, and you’re able to free them, they’ll all be newly resurrected. Some will have been stuck in the shadow world for many decades. They won’t be able to just get up and fight.”

  Adlai hadn’t considered that. Had her uncle overlooked that point, or was there more to his plan than he was telling her?

  “What would you do?” she asked.

  Kanwar cocked his head to the side and considered her. “Your shadow’s powerful,” he said. “I’ve felt it myself. If, as you say, you have the extra power of Manni helping you, then I’d believe a few trappers and some suraci might be no match for you. But we’re talking about the Arbil pyramid. You and your uncle can’t do this alone, and if you do, then you’d be putting your life in the hands of the god of Death.”

  Adlai wrung her hands. “You make it sound like we’re dead either way.”

  “I’ve met Manni, in the shadow world when I first died,” Kanwar said. “And he wanted me to stay dead.”

  She swallowed. “You wouldn’t go to Arbil then? You think this plan won’t work.”

  Kanwar looked away from her. The darkness of the night coated him in shadow and she couldn’t read his expression.

  “I don’t think you should go,” he said. “Not alone. Not just with your uncle and the hope that a god will help you. You need something better to rely on.” He sighed, his eyes bright. “But if my parents were in Arbil, I would go regardless.”

  Erikys was still being kept in the temple, but his appearance had changed. His clothes looked new; he wore a fresh tanned shirt, a collection of leather bands around his wrists, and dark trousers with gold thread marking the hems. It was a much finer outfit than she’d seen him in before, and she wondered if he’d chosen these clothes himself—if the farm boy fool she’d met had never existed.

  Erikys flinched when he saw her. His eyes darted to her uncle. “Her? You want me to take Adlai?”

  “You’re not the only one who can pretend,” she said.

  He shook his head. “Someone else. You have to bring someone else,” he said.

  “I don’t have to do anything,” Luth said. “You’ve made your choices, and she’s made hers.”

  Her choice. Was it her choice? Talking with Kanwar had made her realize how foolish it would be to go to Arbil—and how impossible it was not to. She couldn’t leave her parents there. Not if there was a chance that she could bring them back. Going wasn’t a choice. Doing nothing wasn’t an option.

  Her uncle brought the suraci anklet out and Adlai’s heart ached upon seeing it. The black gemstone was no longer black. She could see now that it was clear and hollow. Erikys had kept his shadow that she supposed was never really his inside the orb, and now it was empty.

  But not for long.

  “Are you ready, Adlai?” her uncle asked.

  She took in a breath. Giving up her shadow would be temporary, but she remembered how it had felt to have the trapper in the market rip her shadow from her. How it felt in every class they practiced stealing shadow.

  Her eyes found Erikys’s. His bulged in panic. Her uncle was making him part of the plan—Erikys’s choice was as much guided by family as hers was. Which meant she would surely get her shadow back. He wouldn’t risk his family.

  They’re not at risk. Her uncle wouldn’t really hurt them. His threat was a bluff. And yet she hated everything about this situation. Erikys didn’t want it to be her going, and she didn’t want it to be him she had to go with.

  She stood opposite him, feeling like a fool as their true roles fell into place. Erikys with the suraci chain—and Adlai with her shadow out toward him.

  But it was her uncle who guided her shadow into the orb. It was less brutal than the desert market and still Adlai was shaking when it was done. She was so cold. And weak.

  I can’t do this.

  “It’s all right, Adlai.” Luth’s voice was calm. Soothing. He didn’t sound like someone about to lead her into a death trap, where he’d promised that he’d follow. “Take a minute.”

  She’d fallen on her knees. Sickness curled in her stomach, but she forced in steady breaths.

  She was vaguely aware of Erikys crouched down next to her. “Don’t do this, Ads. Let it be someone else. You never have to see me ever again, just stay here and be safe.”

  Another breath in and out. The sickness was passing. She found her voice.

  “You promised me an adventure, didn’t you? Just you and me.”

  “Arbil isn’t an adventure. It’ll be your death if you go.”

  She shook her head. The colored lights from the temple windows were blurred and muddled together. “If you care about my life, you’ll give me my shadow back when I need it.”

  She wanted it back now. She was weak without it, but she looked up at her uncle. “I’m ready,” she said.

  Her uncle smiled. His shadow was as smooth as a black river rushing over the floor. It turned the air to ice. The power of it took over the entire room, flooding it in darkness, and she felt herself soaring into nothingness.

  28

  ARBIL

  Adlai was sure the Arbil pyramid had grown since she was last here. Had it always been so massive? The desert sun burned across the golden brick. It eclipsed all other buildings and dwarfed the city walls so that it seemed as if the city was merely a series of shrines gathered around it.

  And if the city was so easily swallowed by it, what chance did she stand? The pyramid had been around for hundreds of years. It would stay for hundreds more.

  She thought over her uncle’s plan and it fell apart in her head. Like collapsed tent poles, the covering blew off in the wind. Her uncle wouldn’t be able to find her; she’d be left alone in there, and the hooded stranger . . . he would find her, and this time he wouldn’t fail; she would die in that building.

  A city guard at the gate called them over. Adlai’s heart raced. The fear wasn’t of the guard recognizing her or denying her entry; it stuttered like a panicked mouse over the moment they’d be let through and she would have nothing stopping her from going into Arbil.

  A selfish, cowardly thought. Her parents were in there, that should be more than enough of a pull forward. And it was; she kept her feet moving, but she couldn’t deny the other pull, a stronger one, telling her not to go through with this.

  While Erikys talked to the guard, Adlai looked over her shoulder, past the queueing crowd and out to the desert market they’d left behind. She couldn’t see her uncle, but she knew he was there somewhere. He would be following them on his own—her second shadow. A much stronger one. She didn’t doubt he was itching to leave the colorful tents and head through the city gate himself. Her uncle wouldn’t be hesitating like she was.

  The guard let them pass. They made for an unremarkable couple coming into the city. Erikys in his tanned shirt and leather wristbands, and Adlai in a long skirt the color of dust tracks and a sleeveless black top. Plain and dark. Nothing like how she’d dress for stealing in the market, but she was playing by her uncle’s rules this time. It was his plan, and she’d volunteered to be a part of it.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Erikys said. She glared at him, angry that he could seem to read her mind. He’d turned into a stranger for her, and she wished she could do the same, to transform into a girl he didn’t know. Preferably a girl he hadn’t kissed and made a fool of.

  “You aren’t like your uncle,” he continued. “Arbil’s a hospital. Whatever you plan on doing, you’ll be putting people’s lives at risk. Sick, vulnerable lives.”

  “As if you care about innocent lives,” she hissed.

  He grabbed her hand. She tried to yank it away but his grip was strong and hers was trembling.

  “We can still go. Leave everything behind like we planned. I don’t . . . I can’t watch you die again.”

  Finally she pulled her hand away.

  “We’re barely ten paces from the gate and already you’re going back on your word,” she said. “I’m not like you. My words mean something.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26