Ember clung to Barrow because all she wanted was to be closer to him, but also because she feared what would happen when they finally parted. His hand moved up her rib cage, and his thumb traced the outer curve of her breast. Her body quaked and a small sound emerged from her throat.
He pushed her away, gazing at her face. The fear building in her chest was mirrored in his eyes.
His skin had gone pale. As he dropped his hand from her side, Ember realized he’d taken her soft cry as an objection to his touch.
“Barrow.” She grabbed his wrist, closing her other hand over his fist. She placed their joined hands against the damp skin above her breastbone. “I—”
She wanted to tell him that her lips were still warm from his kiss. That her body craved more than the skimming caresses he’d barely given it. Ember stood looking up at him, clutching his fist to her chest, unsure how to voice the tumult of revelations that filled her mind.
He returned her gaze, freeing his hand but only to twine his fingers through hers. They stared at each other, breathing hard, neither of them speaking. His other hand came up to stroke her cheek. Then he slid his fingers to the nape of her neck, drawing her close. She lifted her face, lips parting to welcome his kiss once more. But the kiss never came.
A piercing scream ripped through the heavy veil of rain. Barrow and Ember jumped apart. In the next moment they were running through the blinding downpour toward the sound, pushing through brambles and brush as another scream and then another rose in the night.
THIRTY
“HURRY!” BARROW CALLED over his shoulder as he stormed toward the village. Ember was falling behind, though her lungs felt about to burst from the effort she put into her pace.
The screams were horrible. Agonizing. Unceasing. Despite her shrieking instincts, which begged her to turn and flee, Ember ran toward the sounds of torment. Shadows were closing in around her. Torches and campfires that had kept the forest lit with the subtle glow of flame had been drowned by the rain.
Barrow’s long legs carried him through the woods faster than Ember could manage. She could barely see him through the maze of trees and blinding downpour. Each moment seemed darker than the last, as if night itself manifested into a living thing bent on smothering her.
She was almost to the village, she thought, but she’d now completely lost sight of him.
“Barrow!” she shouted. “Sorcha! Alistair!”
Whatever was happening, she hoped it was something they’d face as a united front, particularly since her only weapon was a dagger she’d secreted into her dress pocket. Out of the corner of her eye, Ember saw a tall shadow rise up, slithering from behind a tree trunk. Though her sense told her it was only her mind playing tricks, her body jolted to a stop and turned.
As she stared, the shadow continued to come toward her. Ember couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. What was this thing?
The creature had no flesh. Its form was utterly composed of shadow, or perhaps ink-black smoke—it gave off an acrid odor of burning and decay. In the darkness it was nearly invisible; only the constant movement of its ephemeral body gave away its presence.
Ember drew her dagger, already questioning whether something not made of flesh and bone could be injured by a blade. The sinister form slunk closer, dark tendrils snaking out to grasp her. She had lifted her hand to strike it when the shadow creature suddenly billowed up, as if it were hesitating.
“Ah!” Ember grasped the pendant that lay against her chest. It was hot, burning her skin.
The thing backed away, its form turbulent like boiling smoke. And then it vanished.
She stood still, breathing hard and using a light touch to probe the tender skin beneath the pendant. The gem was no longer hot in her fingers, and if weren’t for the sting of the burn on her chest, she might have believed she’d imagined the incident.
Where had it gone? Each shadow now seemed a menace. She had to find the others. Warn them.
“Lady Morrow!”
Ember whirled around to see Eira coming toward her. Unlike her companions who’d attended the festival, Eira wore full battle garb.
“Are you hurt?” Eira asked her. “You’re trembling.”
Ember shook her head. “Something’s happened.”
“I know,” Eira said. “That’s why I’ve come.”
“I thought the villagers weren’t supposed to see women among the Guard,” Ember said, frowning.
“That’s why I have this.” Eira donned a helmet. “Come with me. Stay close.”
Eira didn’t run, but walked at a fast clip toward the village. The screams hadn’t stopped, though some had weakened, becoming wails of despair. They reached the edge of the forest, and though Ember would have rushed into the fray, Eira grabbed her arm.
“Wait. You’re hardly ready for battle.”
Ember squinted through the rainfall, still hearing the screams but unable to see what was happening. “We have to find the others.” She brandished her dagger. “I’ll manage.”
Eira looked at her. Ember thought she noticed Eira’s gaze drop to the pendant that hung from Ember’s neck before she nodded.
“Yes,” she said, releasing Ember’s arm. “Stay by my side.”
At a cautious pace that Ember found infuriating, Eira led the way into the village. They wove between clusters of thatch-roofed homes. The screams were close now. Their sound made Ember’s throat close.
“There.” Ember choked on the word as she pointed to a man who writhed on the ground. His body had been engulfed by the same sort of shadow creature that she’d encountered in the forest. The man screamed, his hands clawing at the earth as his attacker held him, its shadow body pulsing like a leech sucking blood. It seemed not to matter that the creature had no weight or substance; its grasp appeared inescapable.
Eira began to move away.
“But—” Ember was still watching the man in horror.
“Our purpose is to find our companions,” Eira told her. “We can’t help him.”
Though Ember’s stomach churned, she followed Eira farther into the village. The rainstorm at last gave them reprieve, but Ember couldn’t be grateful for the sights a clear view afforded her.
The shadow beasts were everywhere in the village, their victims chosen without regard to age or sex. Some lay limply, whether dead or unconscious Ember didn’t know. Others still flailed, desperate to escape their torment. Those she spotted were all strangers, men, women, and children from the village. With each new sighting Ember feared she would come upon someone she knew.