Free Shadow Queen by B.R. Nicholson Page A

nodded. “Nice to know the tribe has not
changed much.”
    Astrid narrowed her eyes. “So if Ilsie is
your aunt, then Merrick—”
    “ Please don’t say his name.”
    “I’m sorry,” she said. Luka turned his face
away again. She could feel him pulling away. “Please, I didn’t mean
to bring up those memories again.”
    “It’s not your fault. You have nothing to
apologize for… you’re the only good memory I have,” he said,
drawing her closer to him. “I saw you dying that day. I heard what
you said to Ethen. Seeing you willing to sacrifice yourself for
him—I knew then that there was still good in the world.”
    Astrid felt torn. “No, you’re wrong,” she
said. “I’m just as selfish as the rest of the world. I may have
done good things but did it really help ? Or did it just
cause more harm in the end.” Thoughts of the small, dirty child in
her arms crept into her mind.
    “There is light in you,” he said as he
brushed her hair from her brow. “A light I can’t help but be drawn
to.”
    His face brushed against her lips. She pulled
him in closer, kissing him hard. They let the world slip away,
casting the constant pounding of thunder from their minds.
     
     
    ***
     
     
    Ilsie paced around her rattling hut, debating
on whether venturing into the storm to find her children was really
a good idea or not. The violent storm outside tormented her with
each passing minute. She had heard rumors that Ethen had been seen
only hours ago but no trace of him had remained afterward.
    Ilsie threw her hands up to her face. She
could no longer take the mindless pacing. She tore through the hut,
grabbing everything of importance and shoved it deep into the
pockets of her thigh-length jacket. Healing herbs, food, bandages—
her mind was frantic with worry that she may forget something that
could mean the difference between life and death.
    As she fastened a thick belt around the laden
jacket, a heavy knock pounded on the flimsy door, buckling it
beneath a weighty fist. Ilsie looked up at the door, fearful of
what news awaited her on the other side.
    “Ilsie! Open the door!”
    Ilsie rushed to the door and undid the rusted
latch. “Have you heard from the children?”
    Vintas shook the water from his body, letting
it pool up at his feet. “You need to come with me. The Grand Sage
wants to see you,” he said, avoiding her gaze.
    Ilsie’s hands shot to her mouth. She spoke
between gasps. “Are… are they dead?”
    “No, not to my knowledge, Ilsie,” he said.
His voice rumbled as deeply as the thunder shaking the world
outside. “I’m sure they’re fine, wherever they are—damn it, they’re
not children anymore.”
    His words stung at her heart. Having no other
family left of her own, Ethen and Astrid had become her world.
Vintas, always the Warrior, shied away from such notions.
    “Come,” he said, “we must go. The Grand Sage
demands it.” He placed a firm, muscular hand on her shoulder and
guided her out of the hut and into the pelting rain.
    Though it was a short walk to the Grand
Sage’s home, the raging wind and torrents of rain made the journey
drag on for what seemed like hours. She tried opening her mouth to
protest this ridiculous venture but nearly drowned in the
process.
    Vintas shoved her into the spacious hut. She
coughed up the rain from her lungs, gagging on the grit mingling in
the sweet water. “ This better be important ,” she said,
temper flaring.
    “I assure you, sister , it is—” The
familiar voice crept out from the darkness and sent chills down
Ilsie’s spine. Merrick stepped into the faint candle light, his
pale blue eyes electrified by the small flickering fire. He looked
as if he had not aged since the last time Ilsie saw him. It had
been a brief moment when both the children were still small. He had
come and gone as quickly as the desert breeze. His face was still
smooth with the exception of a narrow, pale scar on his cheek.
    “I thought you were dead,”