Free Reign of Shadows by Sophie Jordan Page A

lifting my bow. I waited, staring into the gloom, my gaze darting over the terrain of trees and brush.
    I held myself still, ears straining.
    No other sound came. I didn’t hear the sloughing, wet breath of a dweller. No dragging steps. Not even the rotting, loamy odor that signaled they were close.
    A shape materialized, only slightly less dark than the ink of night. I pulled my arrow taut, the pull of string a sweet, faintly audible creak near my ear.
    â€œDon’t shoot.”
    A shock wave rippled through me. “Luna?”
    She stopped before me. She was garbed in trousers again.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” I demanded, my voice a low hiss.
    â€œComing with you.” She actually smiled.
    â€œNo. You’re not.”
    She propped a hand on her hip. “It looks like I already am.”
    I lowered my bow and pointed beyond her. Shaking my head, I realized the motion was lost on her. I dropped my hand. “Go back.”
    â€œNo,” she answered evenly. “We’ve already covered this much ground, and it’s almost midlight. Why send me back now?”
    â€œWhy are you even here? I said I would fetch the nisan—”
    â€œBecause we need to know where it grows. After you leave, we may have need of it again.”
    â€œAnd you couldn’t have pointed that bit of logic out sooner? So Sivo could have joined me and not you?”
    At this, her smile broadened. “I could have.”
    â€œYou said nothing deliberately.”
    She shrugged a thin shoulder. “I need to know these thingsfor myself, too. I can’t rely on Sivo for everything.”
    I cursed. She blinked as though my colorful speech was something new, and I supposed it was. Her guardians had spent all these years sheltering her.
    I sighed and dragged a hand through my hair, scanning the horizon. She was right though. They wouldn’t be around forever. What would become of her?
    I ignored the voice inside that reminded me this wasn’t my problem and snapped, “Fine.”
    She smiled again, her lips curving wide to reveal bone-white teeth. “Stop smiling so much,” I grumbled, turning away.
    She followed close behind me, moving noiselessly. “You walk like you’re part of the night.” The words escaped me like an accusation. It didn’t make sense to me. How could a sightless girl be so proficient at maneuvering this terrain?
    â€œI am part of it,” she replied. “Aren’t you?”
    â€œI’m not a part of anything.” Not anymore. I started to think about those days when I was, but stopped myself from going there. I wasn’t that boy anymore. I couldn’t be him ever again.
    â€œWill you be a part of Allu?”
    My reply was immediate. “I have to be.”
    â€œBut what if you’re not? What if it’s not like you think?”
    I held silent at the question, letting it drape over the night, sinking into the dark abyss through which we waded.
    â€œHow do you even know that place is real?” she pressed.
    â€œAllu exists. It’s on every map. It’s always been there.”
    â€œYes, I’m aware. I’ve studied my geography and history. Buthow do you know it’s free of dwellers?”
    I hesitated before saying, “It’s all I’ve ever heard. Everything I’ve ever been told. That gives some weight to the stories.”
    â€œHave you met anyone who’s ever actually been there? And returned to tell of it?”
    â€œWho would ever wish to come back once they reached Allu? Why would they risk themselves?” It was ironic hearing myself use Bethan’s logic. She had been chipping away at my resolve near the end. I had started making plans for us to leave. A bitter irony now that it was too late for her.
    â€œHm.” There was a wealth of meaning in that single sound. She doubted. Just as I once had. “Childhood is full of fairy tales. I had my share, too. What