Chapter Four

Tanitha woke early, long before dawn, considering it a minor miracle that she had slept at all. She'd managed to quell the worst of her thoughts by reminding herself repeatedly that she'd made her decision and wouldn't let fear hold her back. That hadn't stopped different fears from manifesting, though. Every cry from a nightbird, every trill from an insect, every rustle in the undergrowth seemed to be a herald of the demons hunting her. But in the end, none had come.

She brushed the dried pine needles from her clothes, then stooped beneath the curve of the tree's boughs to stand upright. It was dark, and the night was still and quiet but for a gentle breeze. She closed her eyes, reaching out mentally. Her sense of other minds sprang to life with such force that she almost stumbled sideways, and she retracted quickly, blinking as she came back to herself. There had been ample life within the confines of Darius' mountain estate, but nothing like the variety that was here. The area was full of more types of insects than she could name, and she'd also brushed over the minds of what had to have been hundreds of birds, their consciousnesses like bright little sparks in the darkness. There hadn't been any larger, more complex or more focused consciousnesses, though. No large predators prowling nearby, like lions or jackals. Or like demons.

She held herself for a moment, her limbs stiff from the chill of the air and her own immobility. Then, she grabbed her pack. Slinging it over her shoulder and hitching her tattered skirt to her knees, she started to walk.

Despite the deepness of the night, the air was clear and the moon was bright, which at least made the undergrowth reasonably visible. Occasional small pulses of soul-speaking drove anything dangerous like snakes or scorpions out of her direct path. The way still wasn't easy, though; even hitched up, her kaftan frequently snagged on twigs or thorns, and soul-speaking did nothing for sharp rocks that scraped and sometimes cut at the bottom of her feet. Still, she pressed on.

More than once, she found herself wishing she could just allow herself to be captured, but that was foolishness; her certainty that demonkind wouldn't kill a woman carrying one of their own extended to anyone but Alethia of Zharen, and that was precisely who was at the head of the efforts to find her. There would be no mercy or hope of survival if Alethia found her. If she wanted to free Darius, if she wanted there to be some chance for her child to ever draw breath, she had to speak with Queen Naratha, and that meant that she had to get to the city under her own power.

So she pressed on. She could see the walls of Karazhen in the distance, the spires and turrets of the city gleaming pale in the moonlight. She felt at her pack, still walking. Karazhen was probably only a few hours' walk from here, and she had sufficient water. She'd be worn and weary, yes, but it wasn't impossible. She just had to avoid demonic attention long enough to get there.

There were several occasions when her soul-speaking pulses picked something up high above her, something stronger and more sentient than a hawk or an owl. Each time, she threw herself to the ground, huddling beneath the nearest available shelter and remaining perfectly still until it passed. She could only pray that she was within range of the demons that patrolled the city now, demons that wouldn't specifically be looking for her. At least, she assumed that they wouldn't be, since Naratha and anyone else with motive to find her would believe that Tanitha would have the sense to be running in the opposite direction. And if that proved false, if they were looking for her… well, it was better than being found by Alethia.

It was nearly dawn when Tanitha reached a small town, more of a farming community, really. The town was already stirring, residents milling about as they prepared for their days, though there was a strange undercurrent in the air. She felt it in the wary glances the people gave her as she walked, saw it in the way they bowed their heads and lowered their voices when they spoke, sending hurried looks toward the city to the north.

Tanitha kept walking, her scratched and bloodied feet aching with each step. Alethia had said that Darius had been imprisoned. Was the unease of this village due to that? Was this a hint of the truth of Alethia's words? Tanitha had, to that point, been harboring hopes that Alethia had simply lied to her on all counts, but she was becoming less able to convince herself of that by the second. The most obvious point against her hope was the simple fact that Darius had not returned to her. Her heart panged painfully in her chest, making her breath hitch with the intensity of the feeling.

Darius was strong. But Naratha was strong, too, and more than that, she was a queen. She could supersede any order Darius could give. She could deprive him of any support or aid. Despite all his power, despite all the privilege he'd been born to, Darius was utterly alone right now.

No, Tanitha told herself fiercely. He was not without aid. She was coming to him, and she was going to make this right. Maybe she didn't know how he felt toward her right now, with the pain she'd unwittingly caused him. But she did know how she felt toward him, and she also knew what it was to be alone and facing an unknown fate. She wouldn't leave him in that situation. He'd saved her from that once. Now it was her turn.

At that moment, a small structure at a dusty and mostly unoccupied intersection caught her eye. Just a small house built of limed stone, but attached to it was an overhanging porch beneath which were two wooden workbenches. Scraps of leather littered the ground beneath them, and neatly arranged atop one was several metal tools, as well as forms for shoes.

Tanitha veered off the road, sensing an opportunity to meet more than one of her urgent needs. She stepped up to the door and knocked.

The wooden door opened almost immediately, revealing a man perhaps in his forties. His head was shaved, but he'd retained a short salt-and-pepper beard. He looked her over, and Tanitha tried to feel less out of place than she obviously was. The kaftan she was wearing was obviously of very high quality, but it was also torn and stained from her night in the forest and scrub of the foothills. She wasn't sure what conclusion he'd draw about her, if any, but right then, she found herself thinking it really didn't matter very much.

She made an uncertain motion in greeting, not quite a wave, as he was giving her the same wary look she'd been encountering since entering the little town. "Hello," she said. She tilted her head toward the workbenches. "Are you a shoemaker? I…"

"Need shoes, I take it," he said dryly, then glanced down at her feet and startled visibly.

"Gods, woman," he said, appalled. "What have you been doing?"

"Walking," Tanitha said wearily. "Just… walking." She pulled her pack to one side, reaching into it to withdraw one of the golden hairpins she'd taken from the Hold from it. "Could you make a pair for me?" she asked. "I'd like to wait here while you do it."

He eyed the pin. "That's worth five pairs at least," he said. "I'm sure you know that."

Tanitha nodded, still weary. "One pair, a hot meal, a place to sit while you work, and a promise of silence, if anyone asks after me," she said. She doubted Alethia or her minions would ask after her here, but it didn't hurt to be cautious. "Is it worth that?"

He hesitated, looking her over, then said, "Most women wouldn't travel alone like this." It might have seemed an innocuous enough statement, but Tanitha heard the subtext question well enough. He was wondering if she was an elementalist, someone who wouldn't have cause to fear for her own safety if she travelled alone. And being an elementalist would strongly imply that she was in the employ of the Ivory Throne.

Tanitha didn't like lying even by implication, but just then, she was very short on options. He'd be far more likely to help if he thought she was working for demons rather than running from them.

"That's true," she said with a nod. " Most women wouldn't travel alone. And normally I'd prefer not to, myself, but it's not the most foolish thing I could be doing." That distinction, unfortunately, went to her decision to walk straight to the palace of the demon queen who wanted her dead.

The shoemaker looked at her warily, then took the pin from her hand. "It's worth what you asked for, plus some salve and bandages," he said, then held up a hand as she started to thank him. "I'm a craftsman, and I take pride in that. I'm not going to have you staining a pair of new-made shoes before you've had a chance to so much as take a step in them."

Tanitha nodded, grateful, as he motioned for her to take a seat on a stool beside one of the workbenches before closing the door. Tanitha took the seat beneath the wooden overhang. The town was still quiet and clearly on edge, but strangely, her mind seemed to have quieted itself regardless. As if it had taken its cue from the townspeople and realized that there were greater forces at play now, and that there was little to be done but follow the course she'd already chosen.

The shoemaker returned a short time later with the promised bandages and salve, a jug of water, and a bowl of hearty-looking porridge with a thick slice of what looked like goat meat partially submerged in it. She took it gratefully; it was a far cry from what she'd become accustomed to in her time with Darius, but there was something comforting in the simplicity of it.

She ate quietly as the shoemaker began his work. He didn't speak, and Tanitha decided to take her lead from that for a time despite her desperate desire to get what news she could from him. Chiding herself to be patient, she turned her attention to her own feet. To her relief, once she'd cleaned them, they didn't appear nearly so bad as she'd feared. She did have a few narrow scrapes on the top and minor cuts on the soles, but they weren't serious and should heal well if she kept them clean.

She was midway through bandaging her second foot when the shoemaker finally spoke. "I don't suppose you have any word on what's happening inside city walls?" he asked.

"I've been away for a time," Tanitha said, keeping her voice neutral, though her heart had leapt at the prospect of perhaps hearing what word he had heard. The shoemaker glanced up at her from the leather he was cutting, then back down. "I'm returning there now, or will be, once you've finished," she added, still keeping her tone free of most emotion. "What news has there been?"

"No news, " he said, shaking his head, though he kept his gaze on his work. "Nothing so trustworthy or specific as that. Just rumors, more like." His eyes still down, he said, "If you'll excuse me for saying it, I wouldn't be going there just now if I had a choice in the matter."

"Well, that tells you something then, doesn't it?" Tanitha asked, her voice sounding weary and downtrodden even to her own ears, despite the ominous stirring his words sent through her. He sent a bare glance her way, his expression a peculiar blend of wariness and empathy. If he hadn't thought her a Shadowborn agent before, he certainly did now.

"What rumors, then, if there hasn't been true news?" Tanitha asked.

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug as he continued to work. "All sorts. Two nights ago, we could see the orange of flames reflected in the clouds over the city. An early trade caravan came through very early; they'd left not long after midnight, they said, spurred to an early departure by an incident." He trailed off, giving himself a quick shake of discomfiture.

"Incident?" Tanitha prompted, feeling numb.

"Demons," he said, barely audible. With a quick glance her way, he added, "I pray the gods keep and prosper them— we're loyal here— but the stories were that some of them were fighting in their strongest forms, leaving destruction in their wake." Tanitha swallowed, trying to keep a sudden surge of anxiety from her face, but the shoemaker had looked away from her in any case. He continued, "That much of what we heard is probably true, since the travelers all seemed to agree that far. Some of the other stories, though… they seem like madness. Some people said that whatever happened, it happened on palace grounds. That somehow, Queen Naratha and maybe the crown prince were involved."

Tanitha's heart lurched. The shoemaker continued, "I don't know if I believe that, myself. Queen Naratha has always seemed like the dignified sort. I don't know why she'd lower herself to getting involved in some altercation between lesser demons. Though I suppose it could have been more serious than that. The demons… they like us to believe they're all unified in purpose, but…" he shrugged, "…people never are, are they? Not perfectly, anyway."

"What did the stories say about Prince Darius?" she asked, her heart pounding hard. If… if Darius had been harmed, surely word would have spread quickly?

"Nothing specific; just that he was sighted, that he was involved somehow," he said. Tanitha stifled a groan of frustration. He continued, "If I had to guess, I'd say something slipped. One of the higher-ranking demons had ambitions a little too grand, maybe, and they were caught out. If it was something serious, perhaps it isn't so strange that Naratha might set her son on it, or even handle it personally." He gave a small, humorless chuckle. "You know, I saw Queen Naratha in action once. In the last Sabrian War." Tanitha straightened, surprised, as she tied off the last of the bandaging.

"I was conscripted into the army, but not to fight. Soldiers need shoes as much as they need swords," he said with a shrug. Tanitha nodded, still fighting to keep her expression free of the nearly frantic desire to redirect him, to ask if there might be more detail about what had become of Darius. "It was a long time ago," he said slowly, "but I was closer to demons in those days than I have ever been since. Queen Naratha… She was a sight to behold. A dragon the color of the waves of the sea at sunset, all deep blues shot through with the white of the crests of the waves. Teeth like the deadliest blades. But it was her eyes that struck me." He sat back from his bench for a moment, looking straight ahead, his gaze focused not in front of him, but on the memory he was describing.

"I've never seen eyes like that on any human or animal," he said. "You expect a predator to have a cold sort of focus, and she did have that, I suppose, but it was somehow worse. Other predators hunt in packs. Queen Naratha… after the king died, she fought alone. And somehow, it was like she didn't need the support. Like anyone else would simply be in her way. Like she wasn't afraid of anything in this world. Like she didn't care how she might be harmed, so long as her enemies were destroyed."

Tanitha fought to ignore the deep chill that was settling over her despite the growing warmth of the morning sun. The shoemaker gave a quick twitch as he came back to the present, then leaned over his work once more with a quiet, humorless laugh.

"All of that to say that I hope she wasn't truly involved in whatever happened," he said. "I'd pity any man, beast, or demon that found themselves the target of that gaze."

Tanitha swallowed. She wasn't Naratha's enemy, she reminded herself, though an immediate rejoinder that Naratha didn't know that sprang to mind. She closed her eyes against the thought for a few seconds. It would be all right, she told herself firmly. She just had to… She just had to somehow declare her intentions before Naratha had an opportunity to murder her on the spot. She had a few half-formed ideas on that front, but hoping for them to actually work suddenly felt horribly naive.

"But you said the rumors were that the prince might have been involved as well?" she asked, determinedly shunting her mind from the bulk of what he'd said, and even more determinedly banishing the lurking certainty that she was walking blithely toward a sudden and very violent end.

He shrugged, laying what looked like the beginnings of the sandals' leather heels in front of him before grabbing a wooden spool wrapped tight with long strips of rich brown leather.

"Some people are saying that there were two dragons sighted, not just one," he said as he unwound the spool. Tanitha bit her lip, trying to pull together the chain of events. Darius had taken to his dragon form as well? Trying to escape when he realized that Naratha meant to imprison him? The thought made her feel sick. The shoemaker continued, "Two dragons… I'd hate to be on the receiving end of that. Assuming someone facing that would even live long enough to realize there was danger," he said with a little chuckle. "I don't imagine the suffering would last long."

"Not unless the demons wanted it to," Tanitha said quietly, feeling ill as she remembered Alethia's words, her promise that a quick death would be the only mercy Tanitha would even dare hope for. The shoemaker looked at her with a question in his eyes, and she gave a hopeless shrug.

"They don't offer mercy to those who have truly harmed them," she said. "And from the response you're describing… someone did." Even though that ‘someone' had wanted nothing less than to hurt the man she'd somehow, impossibly, fallen in love with.

The shoemaker considered for a moment, then gave a nod of acknowledgement to that. He pulled a hammer from a wooden box, then lifted another box that was presumably full of hobnails, from the sound of sliding metal that it gave as it shifted position.

"Another demon for certain, then," he said between strikes of the hammer. "It's not as if a human could have done anything to warrant that response. Not a good sign for any of us in either case, though, is it? If they're fighting among themselves, I mean."

Tanitha shook her head in quiet agreement. The demon-ruled cities of the Akkenthian Sea had any number of enemies; they couldn't afford infighting, and everyone knew it.

"No," she said softly, though she wasn't sure if he could even hear her. "No, it's not a good sign." Her heart felt heavy and yet somehow strangely numb. "But whatever caused this… it will be put to rights soon."

She just hoped she could survive what putting it to rights included.