Free Reign of Shadows by Sophie Jordan Page B

makes yours real?”
    â€œI knew someone,” I snapped. “She believed. She convinced me.” And yet her faith hadn’t been enough.
    â€œWhere is this girl? Why isn’t she with you?” Turning, I faced her. She stopped and tilted her chin, waiting for my answer.
    â€œShe’s gone.” A flying beetle the size of my fist zipped over my shoulder, heading in her direction. She pulled her head to the side, dodging it as if it were nothing, as if she had seen it coming.
    Her throat worked as she searched for words. “You mean dead.”
    â€œDwellers took her.” Which was as good as dead. Anyone dragged underground never came back. The details of that day weren’t something I ever shared.
    â€œI—I’m sorr—”
    â€œIf you apologize for every person I ever lost, we’d be here allday.” I swung back around. “Let’s keep moving.”
    â€œWhat was her name?” she whispered at my back.
    I expelled a breath and looked skyward. “What does it matter now?”
    â€œHer name?”
    I closed my eyes. It had been two years now, and the sound of her voice was a dim memory. She had been full of laughter. Even with monsters at the gate she could find happiness.
    I didn’t know what I was holding on for anymore. It was pure instinct that kept me moving. My lungs knew how to expand with each breath, and somehow I had mastered the art of not dying. Survival was an easy thing to accomplish when there was nothing left to live for.
    â€œBethan,” I bit out, experiencing a sharp release of pressure inside my chest at uttering it aloud.
    â€œBethan.” She rolled the name on her tongue as though she were testing it out.
    â€œSatisfied? Now make haste,” I snapped, although she wasn’t moving all that slow.
    As midlight arrived, the tension ebbed from me. Or perhaps it was because she had ceased nagging me with her uncomfortable questions.
    Secure in the soft glow of light, I increased my pace, caring less for the noise of my tread. I tried not to look over my shoulder. She had fallen back a bit and was struggling to keep up. I forced myself not to wait for her. The old impulse to be kind and courteous instilled in me by my nurse was still there.
    She wasn’t my responsibility. She had forced herself on me, and I was stuck with her. I should just keep walking. Follow the plan and keep moving east. She’d keep up with me. Or not. I had no doubt she could figure her way back to the tower. She had an uncanny sense of direction.
    I turned to monitor her regularly. My compulsion to check on her was a weak thing inside me. It dawned on me that she couldn’t see if I looked back. The knowledge that she wouldn’t know that she had roused some kind of protective instinct freed me to glance back whenever I felt the urge.
    Looking back frequently, I studied the way her head was always turning, her nostrils flaring as though she were some animal exploring her surroundings.
    Her slim, pale hands looked like small doves, skimming trees and brush, memorizing with touch. She looked peaceful. The dark wisps of hair surrounding her face fluttered in the breeze as those unseeing eyes moved and flitted. As though she could see.
    At one point, she stopped and looked directly at me, her dark eyes deep and penetrating, a bottomless well that seemed to hold so much. Impossible, I knew. She couldn’t see me. She couldn’t know I watched her, but then she spoke.
    â€œI’m not going to stumble into a hole or run into a tree if that’s worrying you.”
    I blinked, unnerved. Facing forward, I said nothing and increased my pace.
    â€œI’ve never been this far from the tower,” she called after me, her voice breathless as she attempted to catch up to me. “Thetrees feel a little slighter here and the air less pungent.”
    I didn’t reply. Not that my silence seemed to matter. She continued talking,