power falters, drained to the final drop. Everything goes black. Even for me.
Behind us, there’s a shout.
I grit my teeth and hobble as fast as I can to the Boneyard, where I find the deserters sprawled across the grass. Most are crying. A few are vomiting. “Keep moving!” I snap as I throw off my mantle of night. “The guards could be right behind us.”
The recruits’ faces pale as I stomp toward them, and they dive out of my way with a yelp.
“You should be afraid,” I growl.
I am. For that single, terrible second of absolute darkness, I had no control. The monster could have claimed me, like it did at Nariin. Flashes from my nightmares bombard me and it’s all I can do to keep walking, to keep my lips clamped tight over my screams.
The recruits fall quickly into line behind me, and Kartok claps slowly as he materializes from the rocks to our left. “You’re a natural born leader, I see.”
“You could have warned me that following basic orders isn’t a requirement for Shoniin recruits.”
Kartok laughs and pats my head. “Breathe, Destroyer. You did it. The hardest part is behind us.”
The hardest part for the rest of them, maybe.
A handful of guards do come to scout the Boneyard, and it takes every morsel of my strength to drape the darkness strategically over our group so the large swathes of shadow appear to come from surrounding trees and boulders. On top of that, it takes every modicum of my patience to keep the young warriors from giving in to their panic and condemning us all to death. Our progress is slow and my head aches. What took me two hours on horseback takes us five hours on foot, and by the time we steal into the city, fire ripples across the horizon, stamping the blackness like a molten orange brand.
The threads of night begin to quake and peel away.
Just a little farther.
We spill into the tavern, and I toss the blue pebble at the bedroom wall. With a sizzle and a flash, the gateway burns through the wood grain. The recruits clap and practically throw themselves at the light.
Something niggles at me as I watch them vanish—that feeling you get when you’ve forgotten to pick up something from the market, something essential, but you can’t for the life of you remember what. As the last boy disappears, I realize what it is.
“None of them were afraid,” I say to Kartok. “No one balked at the fiery gateway.”
He shrugs with his entire body. “Why would they? They are believers, like you and me.”
I nod slowly. Of course.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I motion to the flickering door.
Kartok steps back and gives his head a quick shake. “Someone must arrange the next pickup. See you soon, Destroyer.” He flashes a grin that’s toothy and grotesque, but sincere. Proud, even.
“See you soon, Maggot,” I say, returning his smile.
He bows and sweeps out of the room, vanishing so quickly that it’s almost as if he cloaked himself in darkness.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“THEY’RE BACK!” SOMEONE SHOUTS AS OUR RAGTAG COMPANY ducks beneath the silk walls of the Shoniin encampment.
In an instant, we’re bombarded by faces and elbows and hands. I don’t even see Temujin’s distinctive spikey hair until he lifts me clean off the ground, crushes me in his arms, and plants a kiss on my cheek. Directly on my traitor’s mark. His lips come away black from the pine ink, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“You’re a godsend, Enebish. I knew you’d be successful, but twenty warriors on your first trip?”
I blush furiously as the Shoniin hoot and clap. Orbai zips past with a screech, but she doesn’t land on my shoulder. She’s always been edgy in crowds.
“Celebrate later.” Inkar pushes through the commotion with a basket of linens raised overhead. “After the wounded have been tended and we find them accommodations. We’ve never had so many at once.”
Like always, she’s thinking of others, making sure the newest recruits are properly cared for. Many of them are on their knees, clutching the ground as if they’re afraid it will fall out from under them. Others lift their hands to the sky in thanks. A few of them cry and kiss my cheeks. Now that they aren’t a breath away from getting us killed, my heart palpates with a surge of gladness to see them here. Safe.
Ghoa’s sharp voice immediately hisses in my ear: You shouldn’t be glad. They are deserters.