Read Online A Cast of Shadows: An Araneae Nation Story by Hailey Edwards - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Hailey Edwards
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Errol.
“There’s no time.” He knew it wasn’t enough, yet knew he couldn’t risk more.
“It’s a fatal blow.” She spoke his deepest fear. “Even if you told me the truth, and I can see from your expression you don’t intend to, I can’t save him.” Her voice lowered. “No one could.”
“Our souls are intertwined.” He forced out the words. “If he dies, I will cease to exist in any recognizable form. I will be trapped in the in-between, never to touch or taste or speak again.”
A shudder worked through Daraja, and she glanced at Errol. “And him?”
“He will die and go wherever canis go, and it will have been my fault. His pack was in these woods because I promised them protection. I failed them, failed him . If I could give him back the life he shared with me these past few weeks, I would.” Brynmor stared at his useless hands. “Our bond anchors his spirit to this world because our souls have mingled and mine is grounded in this plane of existence. It may not be enough to save him, but please, for Errol’s sake, you must try.”
Muttering about gratitude washing upon her shores, Daraja crept closer. “Move away from him.”
With a nod, Brynmor did as she asked, giving her room to examine Errol with light hands.
“The sword missed his heart,” she said, “but not by much.”
A faint growl sent her scrabbling back, but the rise of Errol’s chest was his only movement.
“Jana.” Daraja twisted to face Gwallter and hesitated. “He is dead, isn’t he?”
Brynmor nodded.
She flipped the body on its side and freed the bag caught beneath his hip. A quick slice from her knife cut open the bag, and Jana tumbled free. She shook out her fur and staggered drunkenly.
“Shh.” She cuddled the pup against her chest. “It’s all right, little one.”
“Daraja.” Brynmor called her attention back to Errol.
“I can’t help Errol.” She rocked back on her heels. “The best I can do for him is to clean his wound, bandage it and pray the gods grant him the second chance they seem to have given you.”
“You have my gratitude.” The words came odd and formal to his tongue after what they had shared. Recalling Daraja’s wonder when he presented her with a necklace, he hoped to make further amends. “For your help, I will grant you the choice of any treasure from my cache.”
“Don’t throw your gold at me.” Her lip curled. “You’re worse than the Araneidae, thinking a scrap of jewelry or handful of coins can buy your way through life. Friendship can’t be bought. I came to help you. Not to be insulted with bribery. I may crave wealth, but I am not for sale.”
He meant to protest but realized she was right. As paladin, he was used to getting his way, through blood or gold, threats or promises. Never did he ask for favors. He bought or stole them.
“I shouldn’t have said…” He rubbed his face. “As your friend, I am deeply sorry.”
“You really care for him, don’t you?” She kept her distance. “This isn’t just a trick so I help you.”
Brynmor’s throat tightened. “He’s my brother.”
She toed the second hunter’s corpse. “Was that necessary?”
“The paladin would have ordered their deaths for their crimes. That they met their ends here, at Errol’s jaws, was the greatest justice they could have been served. They were fitting deaths.”
Though now Brynmor had two bodies to dispose of and no means to do so.
“The paladin he says.” She scoffed. “Don’t you mean your beloved son? You aren’t named after Brynmor, you are Brynmor.” Daraja’s lips pursed as if tasting a conclusion she hadn’t realized she’d reached.
The pup chose that moment to rear up and scratch Daraja’s calf before she pounced on Errol, nipping his ear in clear invitation to play. She whined when he didn’t grumble as he usually did.
“Let’s not antagonize him, shall we?” Daraja lifted Jana. As if noticing how still it had become, she glanced around.
“There’s no time.” He knew it wasn’t enough, yet knew he couldn’t risk more.
“It’s a fatal blow.” She spoke his deepest fear. “Even if you told me the truth, and I can see from your expression you don’t intend to, I can’t save him.” Her voice lowered. “No one could.”
“Our souls are intertwined.” He forced out the words. “If he dies, I will cease to exist in any recognizable form. I will be trapped in the in-between, never to touch or taste or speak again.”
A shudder worked through Daraja, and she glanced at Errol. “And him?”
“He will die and go wherever canis go, and it will have been my fault. His pack was in these woods because I promised them protection. I failed them, failed him . If I could give him back the life he shared with me these past few weeks, I would.” Brynmor stared at his useless hands. “Our bond anchors his spirit to this world because our souls have mingled and mine is grounded in this plane of existence. It may not be enough to save him, but please, for Errol’s sake, you must try.”
Muttering about gratitude washing upon her shores, Daraja crept closer. “Move away from him.”
With a nod, Brynmor did as she asked, giving her room to examine Errol with light hands.
“The sword missed his heart,” she said, “but not by much.”
A faint growl sent her scrabbling back, but the rise of Errol’s chest was his only movement.
“Jana.” Daraja twisted to face Gwallter and hesitated. “He is dead, isn’t he?”
Brynmor nodded.
She flipped the body on its side and freed the bag caught beneath his hip. A quick slice from her knife cut open the bag, and Jana tumbled free. She shook out her fur and staggered drunkenly.
“Shh.” She cuddled the pup against her chest. “It’s all right, little one.”
“Daraja.” Brynmor called her attention back to Errol.
“I can’t help Errol.” She rocked back on her heels. “The best I can do for him is to clean his wound, bandage it and pray the gods grant him the second chance they seem to have given you.”
“You have my gratitude.” The words came odd and formal to his tongue after what they had shared. Recalling Daraja’s wonder when he presented her with a necklace, he hoped to make further amends. “For your help, I will grant you the choice of any treasure from my cache.”
“Don’t throw your gold at me.” Her lip curled. “You’re worse than the Araneidae, thinking a scrap of jewelry or handful of coins can buy your way through life. Friendship can’t be bought. I came to help you. Not to be insulted with bribery. I may crave wealth, but I am not for sale.”
He meant to protest but realized she was right. As paladin, he was used to getting his way, through blood or gold, threats or promises. Never did he ask for favors. He bought or stole them.
“I shouldn’t have said…” He rubbed his face. “As your friend, I am deeply sorry.”
“You really care for him, don’t you?” She kept her distance. “This isn’t just a trick so I help you.”
Brynmor’s throat tightened. “He’s my brother.”
She toed the second hunter’s corpse. “Was that necessary?”
“The paladin would have ordered their deaths for their crimes. That they met their ends here, at Errol’s jaws, was the greatest justice they could have been served. They were fitting deaths.”
Though now Brynmor had two bodies to dispose of and no means to do so.
“The paladin he says.” She scoffed. “Don’t you mean your beloved son? You aren’t named after Brynmor, you are Brynmor.” Daraja’s lips pursed as if tasting a conclusion she hadn’t realized she’d reached.
The pup chose that moment to rear up and scratch Daraja’s calf before she pounced on Errol, nipping his ear in clear invitation to play. She whined when he didn’t grumble as he usually did.
“Let’s not antagonize him, shall we?” Daraja lifted Jana. As if noticing how still it had become, she glanced around.
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