Shadows of Magic Books 1-4

By Natalie Grey

I'm being hunted. And I don't remember why.

700 years ago, a sorceress decided to subjugate the entire human race. You might recall the first step of her plan - they called it the Black Death.

Since then, anyone with magical talent is brought to the Acadamh, an ancient magical university, to be trained … and people with dangerous magical specialties tend to disappear there. And my specialty? Well, I've never been able to use my magic as far as I can remember, but they tell me that it is rot, and death. So I've been hidden, passed from safe house to safe house.

But the Hunters are on my trail now. Specifically, the very worst one who could have found out about me: Daiman Bradach, legendary druid - ruthless, powerful, and absolutely devoted to the Acadamh.

I'm going to have to get good with my magic. More than good. I'm going to have to become just as much of a legend as he is - fast.

Or I'm as good as dead.

From the author of SHADOWBORN and THE DRAGON CORPS, a new fantasy series full of magic, snarky druids, kickass heroines, punch-in-the-face worthy villains, and just a dash of romance! Perfect for fans of KF Breene and Rachel Carter!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Phix Publishing
• Release date: Dec 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201986803

Natalie Grey

Natalie Grey grew up pretending to be a knight, a mage, a jet-setting international assassin, and, occasionally, a shape-shifting dragon. After reading everything she could get her hands on, she eventually started writing her own stories full of what-ifs and far-fetched occurrences. Born in New England, she currently resides with her two German Shepherd mixes in the frozen wilds of Minnesota.

Book preview

Shadows of Magic Books 1-4

Shadows of Magic Books 1-4

NATALIE GREY

Also by Natalie Grey

THE DRAGON CORPS

Dragon’s Covenant

Dragon’s Honor

Dragon’s Hope

Dragon’s Revenge

Dragon’s Promise

Dragon’s Echo

Dragon’s Nemesis

WRITING AS MOIRA KATSON

Shadowborn

Shadowforged

Shadow’s End

Shadow’s Oath

Crucible

Remnant

Mahalia

Bound Sorcery

BOOK 1

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Epilogue

Afterword

Chapter

One

Branches snapped under my feet and whipped at my face. My breath dragged into my lungs like fire as I ran. My muscles were ready to give out, but I couldn’t stop. That was the one thing I knew: I couldn’t stop running. The moment I stopped, I was dead.

My ankle rolled as I hit a patch of uneven ground and Sarah grabbed my hand to yank me up. She was in better shape than I was, she had the breath to ask if I was okay, but her lips were pressed tight together. She shook her head at me not to let any gasps of pain escape. No words. No more sound than we had to make. Her hand clung to mine until she was sure I was running on my own.

The dull ache in my ankle stabbed with every step, but it was only one more twinge of pain. In the past hours—days? Weeks?—I had run until my legs quite literally gave out, slept on rocky ground, woken to screaming muscles and pushed myself to run again, and become accustomed to the pangs of hunger in my stomach. A rolled ankle was only more of the same.

I didn’t know how long we had been running, and I couldn’t remember why we were running in the first place. I didn’t even remember how I had met Sarah. That memory was lost somewhere, somehow.

All I knew was that Sarah was my only defense against whatever was stalking us.

The forest was so dense that we stumbled into a clearing before we realized what it was. A hawk screamed above us, an unnatural sound somehow. My blood ran cold and I pushed myself into a sprint.

Keep running, keep running. The moment you stop, you die.

We never made it to the other side of the clearing. The hawk arrowed down to hover in front of us and we skidded to a stop. Before my eyes, it changed to a man. He dropped lightly to a crouch and stood, his eyes fading from a hawk’s yellow-orange to a human brown. He wore a uniform not unlike Sarah’s, well-worn and padded, with the hilts of a few knives glinting in the dim light.

Bradach. Sarah spat the name. Her blonde hair glinted in the moonlight. She was trying to be angry, but it was clear even to me that she was terrified. The confidence she had worn like a second set of armor, the whole time I knew her, seemed to shatter.

The man didn’t bother with a greeting. Hand her over.

Sarah didn’t bother with pleasantries, either. The explosion came with no warning, blasting from her hands and into the man in front of us. The air wavered and burst outward, and I screamed as I was thrown backwards. Locked on the ground, I struggled to catch my breath. It seemed very much as if the earth had leapt up to clobber me in the torso. I couldn’t tell if the stars I was seeing were real or not.

"Come on! Sarah dragged me up, none too gently. We have to move!"

We ran back the way we had come. It seemed colder now, the trees rustling with a breeze I couldn’t quite hear. Once, I thought I heard the howl of a wolf, but I wasn’t sure if I heard it in my ears or my mind.

I don’t understand. The thought kept pounding into me, making my breath come short with terror instead of exhaustion. I don’t understand, I don’t understand. I didn’t understand any of this, and my strength was failing me.

And it didn’t matter whether I understood or not. I could die just as easily from things I didn’t understand as things I did.

When I finally slumped to my knees, too tired to go on, I could feel the tears hot in my eyes.

"I can’t—I can’t." I tried to stand and my legs refused to obey me.

Sarah’s shoulders slumped. The all-black uniform she wore, close-fitting and dotted with sheathes, was torn and dirtied. She, too, looked exhausted. She was swaying where she stood.

I’m sorry, I whispered.

It wasn’t…. She shook her head. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I never should have brought you here, the forest is where he’s strongest.

I stared up at her wordlessly.

Listen to me. The magic must have drained her, because she barely got the words out. Look at me, Nicky. Listen. If I die, you do everything you can to get away from him.

If you die? My voice came out too high. I tried to push myself up again and this time, I managed to stumble to where she was. We’re not going to die, right?

Stupid question. I knew we were going to. It was one of three things I knew in the whole world: that, my name, and Sarah’s name.

She didn’t bother answering my question. You fight him, she told me fiercely. You fight him with everything you have. Be smart, Nicky. Choose your time, hit him when he’s weak. He won’t kill you outright when he takes you, okay?

How do I kill him? I was sniffling now. I hated that, and I wiped at my eyes. I think I can run again, we should go.

It’s too late. Her voice was quiet. I didn’t realize it was … him. We were never going to outrun him in the long run.

Who?

Daiman Bradach. She swallowed and looked away. I’m—I’ve only been—he’s the best of them. The Hunters. I’m not a match for him.

I stared at her, shaking. This couldn’t be real. She couldn’t be giving up.

I will give you as much of a chance as I can to get away, she told me simply. "Take it. Run as fast and as far as you can, and remember what I told you."

But I don’t know how to kill someone! I don’t have … I’m not like you.

"You have magic. She took my face in her hands. It’s in there. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be hunting you, and I wouldn’t have been assigned to protect you. That magic is how you’ll fight him."

But if you can’t—

Maybe you can. She smiled at me. You have to try, Nicky. They’ll take you away and lock you up and make you their slave if you don’t.

I couldn’t seem to make the tears stop dripping down my face. I don’t want you to die for me. I don’t want anyone to die for me.

It’s all right. She took one of my hands and rubbed it to bring the warmth back. I could see tears in her eyes, but she was smiling. I got to live free, my whole life. I got to fight for something important. And if I die tonight, I’ll know I died giving you a chance to get away.

And then her face changed. Her eyes focused on something behind me. Hello again, Hunter.

Monarchist. The man’s voice had a wry humor to it.

I turned to look at him. He was beautiful, in a terrifying sort of way. His face looked like it was carved by a master sculptor, every feature perfectly imperfect—a faint bump in his nose, his smile crooked, his lips a little too full. He looked a lot like Sarah, I saw now. It wasn’t anything about the features—she was small, with a heart-shaped face, everything about her round and sweet—it was the way his eyes looked so, so much older than his face. Something in me whispered that I had seen a lot of people like that before, but I couldn’t remember where.

He gave me an absolutely terrifying once-over, though I thought I saw curiosity in his brown eyes. Then his gaze returned to Sarah.

So will you hand her over, or do you intend to fight again?

What do you think?

He sighed wearily. I always forget how devoted your kind are.

My kind. Sarah gave a bitter laugh. "Nicky, run."

I barely got out of the way of the explosion—hers or his, I wasn’t sure—and I took off into the forest with every ounce of strength I had left. My legs were shaking and my throat felt so raw that I could taste blood.

I wasn’t going to make it, but fear kept me going until I heard a scream.

Sarah’s scream.

I had left her alone.

My feet took me back faster than they had taken me away. It wasn’t about strength or stamina now, it was about the fact that she was dying—for me. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair. And I knew I had the key to all of this.

I burst out of the brush to find him standing over her. A line of blood ran from her mouth and she had her hands up to form a shield out of thin air.

She was pouring everything she had into it, but it wasn’t enough. His power, like dancing bolts of lightning, was forging ever closer to her, and I knew exactly what was going to happen when it reached her.

I’ll go with you! The words burst out of me. I didn’t give myself a chance to think.

His head jerked up and the lightning stopped. His chest was heaving, and his eyes narrowed as if he thought this was a trap.

I’ll go with you, I repeated. I held my hands up.

"Nicky—"

I couldn’t look at Sarah. I let my eyes lock on his. Please, I whispered. Please just let her live. She was only trying to protect me. But I’ll go with you if you let her live.

He straightened up, those gorgeous eyes looking at me as if he could peer all the way down into my soul.

I’m not lying. I gave up my promise to Sarah in a rush. Just let her go. Please.

He wanted to trust me, I could tell. He was close to believing me, and I poured all of my sincerity into my gaze. I’m not lying. My lips moved but nothing came out.

I was so tired.

Whether or not he would have listened, I never got to find out. Sarah launched herself up off the ground with a yell, heedless of my scream to stop. I saw the flash of steel in one hand, runes glittering along the blade as she made to drive it into his chest. Power arced along the length of the dagger, making ripples in the night air.

She never had a chance. The moonlight around us turned liquid and flowed to cover him, so bright I screamed in pain. My head jerked away and I staggered away, hands over my eyes, and when I looked back up again, Sarah’s blood was seeping onto the leaves and the Hunter was staring at me, almost sadly.

Absolute fury filled me.

You didn’t have to kill her! I threw the words at him in the too-silent forest. "She was only here to save me from you!"

I was too angry to think about what I’d done, and the mess I’d gotten myself into, but he wasn’t. He didn’t waste his time with answering me. Roots sprang from the ground to twine around my arms and legs, holding me in place as he stepped over Sarah’s body. His hand rose, fingers hovering over my forehead, and for a moment, all I could see was him. I could feel the heat of him, see a tangle of something behind his eyes—uncertainty?

Whatever it was, it was gone quickly.

Sleep. His voice was low, and one finger touched my forehead lightly, burning like a brand.

The roots released me as I fell into his arms. My mind was still awake, trying to scream bloody murder for him to put me down, but my body was limp as he carried me away, and though I tried to keep my gaze fixed on Sarah, my eyes drifted shut without my volition and locked me in darkness.

Chapter

Two

Iwoke to a crackling fire and the smell of food.

I sat up before I remembered where I was. Maybe I thought Sarah had found something real to eat, instead of just berries and leaves. Maybe I thought the past days had never happened at all. Certainly, my muscles felt better than I could remember them feeling in….

Well, as long as I could remember. I would have thought that would be more disconcerting, but my mind seemed determined not to let me dwell on my missing memories.

Whatever the case, my blissful ignorance didn’t last for long. My hands were held together with something that looked like vines, and Daiman Bradach sat across the fire from me, turning skewers of some sort of meat on hot rocks. It was still dark.

You’re awake. His voice was just as disconcerting as I remembered it, sending a shiver down my arms. You slept a long time.

You mean you kept me asleep for a long time. I wasn’t prepared to be nice to him.

He didn’t look up at me, but his mouth twisted slightly. I just sent you to sleep. Your body needed rest. He nodded at my foot, meeting my eyes briefly. I took the liberty of fixing your ankle.

Which would be a very nice gesture, if he hadn’t just abducted me. I stared at the food, mouth watering. I could barely think about anything other than how badly I wanted to eat, but what if it was poisoned? What if it sent me to sleep again? And I didn’t want to look weak.

I needed to distract myself. Thankfully, I had an ample supply of anger.

You killed Sarah, I said flatly. You didn’t need to, but you did. You could have tied her up like me.

A trained sorceress? No. She would never have stopped trying to kill me. There was regret in his voice, but no uncertainty.

Can you blame her? It’s not wrong that she doesn’t want people to be slaves. And … and I said I would, if you would just leave her be. What more do you want from me?

His head jerked back as if I’d slapped him, and his mouth tightened into a thin line. You may have said that, he reminded me, "but she tried to kill me. And slavery is not what the Acadamh does—no matter what they’ve told you."

They didn’t tell me anything but that, I shot back. "And I don’t know what the Acadamh is."

He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. You haven’t even heard of it?

It occurred to me that I might well have heard of it at some point, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him about my missing memory just yet. And then a thought occurred to me. Hit him when he’s weak, Sarah had told me.

I hunched my shoulders and pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my bound arms around them awkwardly to play up that I was a captive here. I was in a terrible situation, and he was the reason why—so I was going to make him feel bad about it. I felt a twinge of guilt, acting like this, and reminded myself what he’d done: he’d chased me down in a forest and killed someone to capture me.

All I know is, Sarah was protecting me because you were hunting me. I said the words as softly as I could. For a moment, I didn’t hide my fear, I let him see all of it. We’d been running for days. She was terrified when she found out it was you. I guess she was right to be.

I didn’t know Daiman Bradach well, but I didn’t have to. If I could make him doubt himself, make him sympathetic to my situation, I’d get a lot more openings to find out about him—or escape.

And he did look guilty. He wasn’t, I gathered, the type of man who liked to think of himself as a monster, chasing people down. You didn’t have to run from me, he said quietly.

You killed Sarah when you found us, I reminded him defiantly, and now you’ve got me in these. I held out my bound wrists. I was glaring. I was angry—angry at him for doing this, angry at myself for being scared. I needed to make him feel guilty for what he’d done, and I wasn’t going to achieve that by being obedient. So tell me again why we didn’t need to run?

He didn’t respond to me immediately, and I shifted, trying to get comfortable. This really was a gorgeous little clearing, like something out of a fairytale, with soft moss to sleep on and tiny white flowers blooming under the trees. Beyond the smell of cooking food—my mouth was still watering like crazy—the air smelled sweet and earthy. It seemed jarringly out of place with my current situation.

Sarah died because she interfered with a tradition that must be upheld, he said finally.

’Sarah died,’ I repeated bitterly. I guess that’s one way to say it.

I killed her. Is that what you want to hear? He met my eyes, and his own were flat. His jaw was clenched. He didn’t like killing people.

That was good to know.

I tried not to feel guilty for backing him into this corner. Whether or not he liked killing people, he had killed Sarah. Yeah. That was what I wanted to hear. I looked away. Not that it helps, I guess.

I won’t apologize for killing someone who was trying to kill me, he said quietly. And I won’t feel guilty about it.

I didn’t look back. He did feel guilty, I could tell.

And what she interfered with…. He sighed. "The Monarchists would never tell you the truth about the horrors magic once visited on this world—about the horrors they’re preparing to unleash again. There are more lives at stake than just Sarah’s and yours. You must be trained to use your powers, and you must know the history of magic."

Monarchists. There was that term again. I considered asking what a Monarchist was, and then decided that would be too clear a sign that something was wrong with me. The Acadamh, after all, was something on his side of whatever war this was, but the Monarchists were theoretically on mine. I should know about them.

Right. I decided I’d pushed him enough for now. I shrugged and held out my wrists with their vines. Am I going to learn to do this? Or that sleep thing you did to me?

He looked at me like I was crazy. No.

Why not? I had thought it was a perfectly reasonable question.

You’re a sorceress. He spoke like he was explaining something to a five year old. Not a druid.

You’re looking at me like I know the difference. So much for charming him, but he really was being annoying.

He gave me a look at that, and sighed. Then he frowned again. It really was endearing, what that look did to his face, but I told myself not to be ridiculous. He was clearly the very last person I should be mooning over.

You really don’t know the difference? he asked me. This isn’t you … playing dumb? You don’t know anything about the Acadamh, or training?

I really don’t. I hoped I hadn’t just given away something too big.

He chewed his lip while he thought, and turned the meat skewers again. The scent was making me light-headed with hunger, but he clearly didn’t care much about the food in front of him. I took a deep breath and tried to stay focused.

Your magic is innate, he said finally. "I was just a normal human, I had to train as a druid to get these powers. But you were born being able to … what is it you do?"

Huh? I tore my gaze away from the meat.

He looked at the bindings, just looked at them, and they unraveled. He handed me one of the skewers. Careful, it’s hot.

I didn’t care. I snatched it out of his hands and tore into it, burning my tongue and throat and gulping it down anyway. When I looked up, daring him to comment on my manners, he simply handed me the other skewer.

I’d really prefer it if he weren’t being so nice. I reminded myself that taking that handcuffs off after abducting me wasn’t really a favor, even if it seemed to be. I shouldn’t be giving him any credit for it. I tried to keep my voice cold. "So what did you want to know?

What’s your specialty? When I said nothing, he prompted me: Fire, wind, lightning? Metals?

I have literally no idea what you mean. I picked the last pieces of meat off the skewer and looked around for more. When was the last time I had eaten?

What kind of magic do you do? he asked. His tone was forcedly patient.

I used the same tone right back at him, crossing my arms. "I’ve never done magic," I informed him.

You—you’re sure? That seemed to totally blindside him. You don’t remember ever doing … anything?

"The first thing I remember is being chased through the forest by you. I realized how weak that sounded. So, I guess, maybe. But I swear to you, if I have, I don’t know how and I don’t remember. I gave up trying to hide the fact that I was missing my memory. And I also swear I’m telling the truth, that’s the first thing I remember. Other than my name."

Nicky. He said my name quietly.

I looked away. I didn’t like him saying it.

There was a long pause.

I’m sorry if I scared you, he said finally, but right now, you’re dangerous, and you were being used by dangerous people. You need to go to the Acadamh.

How am I dangerous? Who was I hurting?

"You’ve just told me you wouldn’t know if you had been hurting anyone, he pointed out. More to the point, you do have magic, and right now, we have to assume that you don’t know how to control it. You also don’t know the true history of magic. He cut off my question. Which you have to know, to understand why it’s so important that you do control your magic. The Monarchists would use you in a war that would destroy innocent lives."

This seemed like a fairly circular argument to me, but I had zero illusions about my ability to escape right now. I was tired, I was still hungry, and I didn’t have any idea where we were.

I decided to get everything out of him that I could. The more I let him talk, I reasoned, the more he’d get off his guard.

Okay. So tell me about the history of magic. I looped my arms around my knees.

They’ll tell you there, he said firmly. Do you need more food?

No. I did, but more than that, I needed to know what was going on. You really can’t tell me anything?

He hesitated for a moment, stirring the fire with a stick. He came to kneel down in front of me and reached to lay his palms on my temples.

I’m not going to hurt you, he murmured.

Now! something in me screamed. Kill him now and run! What it was that kept me rooted to the spot, I wasn’t sure. For one thing, I still didn’t have a clue how to use the magic everyone was so sure I had. For another, he smelled vaguely like pine and sweat and something warm….

Or maybe it was his magic. Sure. I’d put it down to that.

What are you doing? My voice sounded weird.

Looking into your mind. His eyes were focused on mine, but he didn’t seem to see me at all. Not far, don’t worry.

I expected to feel something, maybe fingers prying through my mind, maybe my memories rushing back. I had just enough time to be panicked about that idea before I realized it wasn’t happening. The world fell away, and I heard the rustling of trees. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine myself in a world of dappled sunlight and ripening berries, leaves lit green above and birds singing sweetly from the branches above me.

As abruptly as the sensation had wrapped itself around me, it disappeared. Daiman’s hands were gone, and he was staring at me in consternation.

How do you feel? he asked me carefully.

I answered before I thought to be flippant. Fine, I said honestly. You didn’t hurt me, don’t worry.

I tried to suppress a sigh. I was supposed to be charming him, not the other way around. For his part, he seemed entirely consumed with whatever he had seen—and I wanted to know what that was.

Why did you look?

I wanted to know how much you remembered. He looked worried. And how your magic was blocked—why I haven’t seen it yet. I wanted to see if I could get a sense of your past.

And?

I can’t, he said bluntly.

"You can’t?" A wave of irrational panic hit me. What if I had no past? What if—

Frankly, I didn’t even know what I was afraid of. It was like not having a name, I decided. Everyone had names, and everyone had a past. It just felt wrong not to have one.

It’s in there. His voice broke through the panic. But whoever hid it used a spell I can’t just push aside. Actually, they used more than one. He shook his head. If I tried to force it, I might damage your mind. I’ll let the sorcerers at the Acadamh handle it.

I swallowed hard. Why would someone do that to me?

The only thing I can think of…. He shook his head. It’s not important. Can you walk? We should get moving.

I let him help me up. Thanks. And thanks for the food. I looked down, and what I saw made my eyes go round. The mossy, fairytale clearing was gone. In its place was hard-packed dirt strewn with leaves, indistinguishable from any other patch of ground in the forest. Wow.

He was smiling. No need to sleep on dirt. And we’ll catch more food on the way. I didn’t realize you were that hungry. He gave me a half smile that made my stomach turn over. And then, like dumping ice water down my spine, he gave me a knowing look. By the way—I’ll save you the trouble of coming up with a plan for getting away from me. I’ve got a tracker on you now, and whoever put a lock on your powers, it’s still there. You’re not getting anywhere.

He’d save me the trouble, or he’d save himself the trouble? I looked down so he wouldn’t see the sudden flash of defiance in my eyes. I’d been starting to warm up to him, and I was glad that he’d reminded me what he was: a Hunter.

A jailor.

Well, like hell was I just going to follow him meekly into a prison cell. If he thought he’d caught me for good, he had another thing coming.

Chapter

Three

No matter what Sarah seemed to think, I couldn’t defeat Daiman with magic—not yet, anyway. Maybe she meant for me to wait until my training had begun, but I had the sense that, magic or not, it was going to be easier to escape on the road than it would be from the Acadamh.

That meant I needed information, and fast. I didn’t know how much time I had until we would be there.

Dawn broke as we walked, and I watched Daiman out of the corner of my eye, trying to find any amulets or magic wands I might steal to rob him of his powers. He didn’t seem to have any, and staring at the movement of his muscles under his clothes was doing more harm than good to my powers of concentration.

So I watched everything else, instead, and I noticed a strange thing. From the way landmarks seemed to grow closer far too quickly and we never encountered a road, much less a town, I had the unsettling feeling that Daiman was taking us through some not-quite-real world where the earth folded beneath our feet to bring us farther, faster.

Once I realized that, I began to notice things flickering in the corners of my vision: glimpses of roofs over the tops of the trees, roads half-glimpsed in the greenery, the sound of voices mixed among the trill of the birds, and once, the gleaming bulk of an office building.

My mind seemed not to want to know about this other world, just like it didn’t want to know about my missing memory, and so I had to cling to each flicker in reality with sheer stubbornness. I forced myself to picture the things I had seen, no matter how much my mind tried to slide away from those thoughts.

It seemed to work. Once, I stumbled over a cracked paving stone. Another time, I saw my reflection in a shop window that was immediately gone.

I wondered, suddenly unsettled, if anyone in the real world saw me flicker into existence and then back out of it. Then again, perhaps their minds were just as uninclined to acknowledge that as mine was.

Daiman was polite to me, and so I was polite to him … barely. I figured that the success of my escape attempt rested largely on lulling him into a false sense of security—which meant not being too smug about my impending flight, but also not too polite and sweet. Daiman knew I didn’t like being here. He just had to think that I also wasn’t going to try to escape.

It was hard to tell if he was worried about that or not. Perhaps he figured that between his warnings and his alternate universe, I was pretty well trapped.

I dedicated the day to seeing if I could make the flickers appear on my own. Quickly looking toward my peripheral vision didn’t seem to work, nor did walking with my eyes half-closed—and I nearly got brained by a tree branch trying that.

I noticed that the forest right around us seemed to be the fairyland, and the trees a few meters out seemed more normal. Staring at those patches of forest didn’t seem to give me any more success, but it did give me an idea.

I began to lag behind Daiman, first a few steps, and then a few more. Sometimes I caught up with him. Sometimes I would call out to him that I was stopping. I let myself wander a little bit off to the side as well. I always kept myself in sight, meeting his gaze openly when he looked over to check if I was still there. I forced myself to take my time, but it cost what little patience I had. Every step was taking me closer to the prison.

But it worked. The further I got, the more flickers I saw. I returned to Daiman’s side, having to bite my lips to keep from smiling broadly. The first chance I got, I would run.

Are you feeling all right? he asked me courteously.

I blinked. I wasn’t quite sure how to answer that question. Yes, aside from the kidnapping thing seemed both the only honest way to answer, and also a bit too rude.

I’m tired, I said finally. And hungry.

We’ll stop for the day soon. He studied the sky. The sun was creeping lower, however slowly, but we had been walking for a long time. Do you think you can go a little further?

I tried not let my leap of joy show on my face. Stopping for the day meant we wouldn’t be arriving tonight.

I shrugged to show my acquiescence. Not rude … quite. But a reminder that I wasn’t keen on following him.

For a moment, I thought he would say something else. He was staring at me with a troubled expression, and I could see the way he wanted to say something more—an admonishment? Reassurance? Whatever it was, he only closed his mouth on the words and set off again.

Was my worry getting under his skin, or was he just angry that the captured Monarchist wasn’t falling all over herself to convert? It was hard to know.

He made another camp for us about an hour later, and this time, I got to see it grow. From the pretty, storybook forest he already seemed to summon effortlessly, two beds of moss curled their way into being.

I knelt down to watch them grow, fascinated. I had never paid much attention to moss. The soft cushion I had slept on was really hundreds upon hundreds of tiny capsules with wispy tops, each capsule swelling and turning a bright green. I found myself smiling as I watched it grow, and when I put out my fingers to brush over it lightly, snowbells sprang up where my fingers passed, gorgeous under the dappled shadows.

I laughed delightedly—and then looked up to see Daiman smiling down at me.

Snowbells, I told him.

I saw how you liked them, he explained. They like growing here.

My own smile died. He had made those snowbells to make me smile, and I didn’t like it. No amount of pretty flowers was going to make me a willing slave.

I looked away sharply and sat down on the cushion, rubbing at my shoulders and pulling my boots off. I wasn’t going to be charmed by him or his magic. I wasn’t going to let him build a connection between us. He was trying to do the same thing to me that I was trying to do to him—lull me into a false sense of security.

I wasn’t going to fall for it.

I’ll … go get us some dinner. What his face looked like, I wasn’t sure—I was damned if I was going to look at him—but his voice was subdued.

He didn’t make a cage, but I knew he was watching me. I drew my knees up to my chest, rested my chin on them, and tried to keep from wiggling my toes in the moss. It was exceedingly soft, but I couldn’t let my guard down.

We ate in silence when he returned. He made a fire from scratch—apparently fire wasn’t a phenomenon he could summon from nothing—and cleaned the rabbits he’d caught. There wasn’t so much as a mark on the bodies before he used his knife to gut them, and I wondered just how he’d managed it.

He caught me looking. Druids don’t hunt quite the way other people do, he said quietly.

What, you transform into a panther and scare them to death?

The idea seemed to amuse and annoy him in equal measure. No.

We ate in silence, and I settled down on the moss even though the light was still fading. I didn’t want him to talk. I didn’t want him to try to explain any of this to me, and I didn’t want to catch myself enjoying the world he’d built up around us. I just wanted him to go to sleep so I could escape.

It took forever for night to fall and Daiman to fall asleep. For a long time, he sat and stared into the fire. He didn’t fidget or look bored. He seemed to be accustomed to being alone. I wondered what he was thinking about and told myself it wasn’t important. Once, he caught me looking at him and I looked away, trying not to blush. I was watching him because he was my enemy, not because….

Well, not for any other reasons.

He did, eventually, go to sleep. He lay down and I listened to his breathing go slow and even.

Which was when I realized I needed to kill him.

My eyes flew open in the darkness and I felt a jolt of adrenaline course through me. Why the hell had I not realized this before? If I just ran, and he really did have a magical tracker on me, my attempt was doomed from the start. I should kill him. It was the reasonable thing to do. After all, he was a killer. I knew that. He was a killer, and he was bringing me to a prison, and while I might not have my magic … you didn’t need magic to kill someone. Non-magical humans had been proving that one for years.

I forced myself to sit up quietly. I was actually shaking, which I hated. I rubbed at my temples and tried to think. How did you kill someone? I didn’t have a knife. He did, but it was in his boot, and I didn’t think I knew how to pick pockets. I didn’t have a gun.

A rock. I remembered a tumble of them under the edge of a nearby boulder and eased myself up.

My feet seemed to be carrying me all on their own, which was good, because I was really not sure I could do this. Hopefully my hands would also cooperate. I felt around in the dark and slowly withdrew a rock that seemed hefty. It had some sharp edges, too, which was … good.

Right?

I edged back into the camp and took the time to study Daiman’s chest. It was still rising and falling slowly.

He was a killer, I told myself. He was a Hunter, and a very good one, apparently. Sarah, who had never met him before, had known him on sight. She’d told me that we were never going to outrun him. Therefore, it stood to reason that I could not outrun him on my own, and from there, that I had to kill him unless I wanted to be captured again.

But no matter how many times I walked myself through that logic, I didn’t actually want to do it.

How long I stood there, frozen, I wasn’t sure. But then he shifted and turned onto his side and the moonlight caught on the pulse at his throat.

The rock dropped out of my hands to land with a soft thunk on the moss. This was too much. I couldn’t do it. I caught my breath, desperate not to make a sound, willing him not to wake up and see me next to the murder weapon.

Pick it back up, and kill him, I told myself.

But I couldn’t do it. I backed away, heart in my throat, and then I turned and ran.

Chapter

Four

Itried to run lightly while I was close to the clearing, but panic kicked into high gear soon enough and I was in a flat out sprint. I had told myself to be patient, to pick my time, but the truth was that someone had kidnapped me and was trying to bring me to a prison I would likely never escape—and I was terrified. I couldn’t have stopped running for anything.

The flickers at the corners of my vision only spurred me on, and it wasn’t long before everything was flickering madly. The trees appeared and disappeared, the ground turned from leaves to cobblestones and back, and I heard the honking of cars.

I made for what looked like a sidewalk, and stumbled out onto it a few moments later. I half ran, turning as I went. Clean, pale buildings with gorgeous balconies and terra-cotta roofs rose up on either side of me, and tiny cars were parked along the sides of the cobblestone street. Haštalská, a nearby sign read.

I didn’t have the first idea where I was, but it wasn’t the forest, and that was a good start. I took a moment to catch my breath, then shook myself and kept running.

I dodged around couples in bright summer clothes, some pushing strollers, and old women wearing scarves over their white hair. What was I looking for? Where was I going?

Anywhere I could hide. We’d deal with the rest later.

A breath of air caught me with the rustle of trees, and my heart leapt into my throat. He knew I was gone, and he was following me.

Why the hell hadn’t I killed him when I had the chance? I practically shoved a man in a business suit out of my way and he yelled something after me in a language I didn’t understand. I considered yelling Watch out for hawks over my shoulder, but couldn’t spare the breath.

I jagged left onto another street and stopped sharply when trees flickered into being. Back the way I had come, and out onto the sidewalk again. I was running as fast as I could, desperate to stay ahead of him. I had no idea how fast I was, but Daiman was practically all muscle. He wasn’t going to be slow. I needed to give this everything I had.

I hopped a railing and heard more angry yells, and had the sudden thought that at least if someone called the police, there would be witnesses to Daiman trying to abduct me. That made me wonder if I should ask people to call the police.

Something in me gave an emphatic no to that suggestion, and all I had to go on was instinct, so I decided to trust it.

"Nicky. His voice was in my ear and I gave a little scream, looking over my shoulder for his shape at my side. My heart was pounding as much from sheer terror as from running. He was going to catch me, and he was going to take me to that place, and I was never going to get out. I scanned the street as I pushed myself to go faster. He was nowhere, but I could hear him. It’s not safe here. The ley lines will kill you. I’m not going to hurt you."

Ley lines? I frowned and slowed for a beat, then charged ahead again, shaking my head. I wasn’t going to let him lie to me. I wasn’t going to be taken in. Of course he was going to seem nice, like he was worried for my safety. A slave who was dead wasn’t much use to him.

My feet ached and slid in the boots, and it felt like my head was going to explode. I didn’t know how long I was going to be able to keep going like this, but I told myself that the only thing that mattered was this moment, and then the next, and the next after that. I just had to keep going for now.

I wished Sarah was here, and felt tears come to my eyes. Sarah hadn’t been able to protect me, but it would be nice not to be alone.

I couldn’t fall into the trap of feeling sorry for myself. I pushed my way through increasingly heavy crowds, half-sobbing for people to get out of my way. There was the pounding of heavy music nearby—some sort of festival, maybe. A few women tried to grab at my shirt, asking a question that I understood no matter the language: who’s chasing you? Did he hurt you?

But if I stopped, who knew who else he might kill? He wouldn’t want witnesses, and I didn’t think I could live with another person trying to save me. Some part of me whispered that he wasn’t like that, he wasn’t a cold-blooded murderer, but what if I’d misjudged him? He hadn’t let me go, after all.

"Nicky, please come back. Please listen to me. You’re running into danger."

Maybe, I muttered back. I didn’t know if he could hear me, but I said it out loud just in case. But I’m also running away from it.

"I am not going to hurt you!" There was the shriek of a hawk above, chilling me to the bone, and I saw him circling in the sky above.

Get away from me! I yelled. I didn’t care how stupid I looked, screaming at a bird. "I don’t want to go with you, get away from me!"

The trees were appearing again and I turned to plow into the crowd once more. The music was getting so loud that it might well be deafening, and I could see the lights from the stage now. People were jumping and swaying ahead of me, and I surrendered myself to the crush gratefully. Too many people for Daiman to brainwash, too many for him to kill.

I was carried along by the crowd, almost too tired even to keep my feet under me. I allowed myself to be jostled along and tried to catch my breath. My silky shirt clung to me with sweat and more than a couple of times, I had to slap people’s hands away from my body. I might have bigger problems right now, but that didn’t mean I’d let the rest slide. It turned out, from the way men recoiled, that I had a pretty mean death glare.

I was learning more about myself all the time. I was almost amused by that…

Until a hand closed around my wrist. My head jerked around and he was there, brown eyes and a sheen of sweat on his skin. The crowd pushed us towards one another and I crashed up against his chest, staring up at him in pure hatred.

He tried to wrap an arm around me, yelling something that was lost in the beat of the music.

Like hell I was planning to listen, anyway. I shoved him as hard as I could, yanking my hand out of his grip. I felt his hands slide over my sweat-slick skin as I turned and ran again.

This time, I didn’t bother slapping guys’ hands away—I threw up my elbows and knocked them down. All that existed was the few feet ahead of me, and Daiman behind me. I wasn’t going to let anyone get in my way or slow me down.

I didn’t waste my time looking back. He was following me, and I knew it. All there was, was to run.

Waves of light from the stage washed over me with the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. The music was loud enough to make me wish I’d been born without ears, but even without it, I’d never have been able to pick out the sounds of Daiman’s pursuit amongst so many people. The crowd threw me off my feet more than once and helpful hands picked me up.

I couldn’t spare the breath for thank yous. I ran until I emerged into open air with a gasp of relief. I felt sick, suddenly, but I told myself that must be from exertion, or maybe it was from the crowd. It was hard to breathe in the crush and the heat of so many bodies, and for a moment I was running with fresh air in my lungs and burst of energy in my legs.

Just a moment, though, before Daiman slammed me sideways into an alleyway.

Chapter

Five

We came down hard on the pavement, his hand wrapped around my head to cushion it, him twisting so that he fell beneath me, but that only gave me a stab of pure fury. He just didn’t want to bruise the merchandise. Was he going to get a reward for bringing me back?

I pushed myself up and ran, yanking myself free when he reached out to grab my leg. The sick feeling was getting stronger, and I considered turning around and puking all over him, but decided against it. Running was probably a better call than a few moments of amusement.

He was better at this than I was, though. When blue-white lines sprang into existence in front of me, waving in the air and leading to a knot of brilliant light, I turned with a snarl on my lips.

I. Am. Not. Going. With. You. I got each word out between gritted teeth.

If he was going to trap me here, I was going to throw up on him.

Nicky. His hands were up, palms out, and he looked genuinely terrified. "Nicky, please, don’t touch those lines."

I— I broke off and looked round at them. That fear was real. And if he was afraid of them…. Aren’t these yours?

Those are the ley lines! His breath was heaving into his lungs. His shirt had ripped and his arm was bleeding where we’d come down on the pavement together. They’ll kill you. Sorcerers can’t see them, but druids can. He hesitated. "You shouldn’t feel very well, though."

I froze, eyes narrowing. I couldn’t tell if he was bluffing. Was any of this real, or was he messing with me? Were the ley lines why I wanted to throw up? I realized now that it really did seem like I’d kept getting sicker, the closer I got to them.

It didn’t matter, I realized. Whatever the case, I’d foolishly run into the alley and now I didn’t have a good way out. My hand clenched into a fist and I tried to steel myself to do what I had to. I took a step back, towards the lines. Nausea threatened to overwhelm me, but this was literally the only thing I had.

Let me go, I said quietly, or I’ll do it.

"No! The word was ripped out of him. He went to take a step forward, I leaned, and he froze. He closed his eyes briefly, let out his breath, and took a step back, instead. Please, he said quietly. Please. I am not lying to you. I am not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you."

He almost seemed to mean it, and I frowned in confusion … until my brain caught up with me. The truth wasn’t in those melting brown eyes, I told myself, it was in what Sarah had said. He was leading me into a prison. He would make me a slave.

I looked away from his earnest face for a moment to remind myself of the truth. If no one wants to hurt me, then I should be able to walk away from all of this, huh? I looked back and locked my gaze on his. He’s a liar, he’s a liar, he’s a liar. I repeated the mantra in my head. Right? If this isn’t a prison, if no one wants me hurt, I should be free, shouldn’t I?

He looked down at the ground and my shoulders slumped.

Can you promise that they’ll let me go free? After my training? I was really grasping at straws here. I didn’t want to be locked up, but I didn’t exactly want to die, either. Right now, I’d give anything for a third option.

He looked up at me. You won’t want to, he said quietly. His face changed as he realized what he’d said and he shook his head emphatically. "I didn’t mean it that way, I didn’t mean they’d brainwash you! I just mean, once you know the truth, you wouldn’t want…. Please, the ley lines will kill you. He stepped back again to beckon me out. I won’t hurt you, he promised me. I won’t touch you, I won’t do any spells. You’re safe."

Every moment I spent with him, I found myself wanting to believe the words he spoke. But he would lead me right to the place Sarah had so feared. He kept saying he wouldn’t hurt me, but he never said he wouldn’t bring me to the Acadamh. I looked away and tried not to let my eyes tear up as his voice trailed off. Why the hell was I disappointed? I’d always known what he was. He was my captor.

And I couldn’t be locked up. The thought made my heart constrict with panic. I couldn’t be locked up.

You see why I can’t go with you, I said quietly. You have to understand, don’t you? All you can give me is half-promises. And I can’t live my whole life as a prisoner, Daiman.

You won’t be, he said passionately. However you grew up, we need you, Nicky. We need all the help we can get. Our world is at war.

But even as he looked up and his voice broke off in horror, I stepped back into the knot of power. I doubled over and had to drag myself back up. It wasn’t nausea anymore, it was pain, dancing through my bones.

I looked at him out of the dancing white light. Sarah knew something, I told him. I felt exhaustion dragging at me as I walked backwards slowly, and the pain still ricocheting through my body. She knew something about what your people were going to do to me. Maybe you don’t, but she did, and I’m not just going to let them do it. I’m not going to be their pawn.

We stared at one another in silence, and then he tilted his head to the side, frowning in consternation.

I sighed. What? What is it? This wasn’t exactly the nice, dramatic moment I’d anticipated. I had intended to have the last word with that speech, but nothing seemed to be happening, and, fair or not, I was going to blame the awkwardness of this particular moment on Daiman.

How do you feel? he asked me slowly.

Tired. My legs are shaky. I have a headache. I’ve just been chased through a city by a shape-shifting kidnapper and now I’m about to die. Otherwise great. When he said nothing more, I snapped, "Why?"

"Um, because … well, not to put too fine a point on it, but you should definitely be mostly dead by now. He reached out to touch one of the ley lines and yanked his hand back. They’re real, he said, almost to himself. So why…. His face cleared a moment later. Oh."

I gestured impatiently for him to give an explanation.

Your magic is blocked. Probably in a way that the ley lines can’t feed on it as easily. That’s what they do. Well, no one really knows what they do—how they work. They seem to radiate magic, but they also take it in if there’s a strong source nearby … like a magic user. And yet, somehow you’re fine.

Oh. Well, then. I folded my arms over my chest in satisfaction. I guess I’ve found somewhere safe from you, after all.

Unfortunately, my body chose that exact moment to betray me. I stumbled and sprawled onto the ground, too tired even to properly enunciate my very unladylike response to the sudden pain. I was cold, and I was having trouble breathing, and I realized all of a sudden that the shaking in my legs wasn’t just from running. The pain seemed to be increasing.

Nicky? Nicky! His voice sounded like it was underwater.

I tried to pick my head up and couldn’t. What? I croaked out.

"You have to get out of there. It’s not feeding on you as fast, but it’s still feeding on you. Can you walk? Can you crawl?" His voice was panicked.

I don’t want … to be … a slave. I tried to push myself up to stand. I didn’t want to die sprawled on the ground of an alleyway. It sounded undignified.

"You won’t be a slave. I’m taking you to learn magic so you can fight against people who want humans to be slaves, people who want humans to die out so they can just have the whole world to live in. You have to be trained, Nicky, but that’s not a death sentence, it’s not brainwashing. His voice was desperate. Please, can you believe me just long enough to get out of there?"

And I wanted to. Heaven knew I wanted to. Right about now I was realizing that maybe I didn’t want to die after all. But I could only slump to my knees and onto the ground. I couldn’t get up. I met his eyes through the haze of white. I was sucking down air desperately but it didn’t seem to be helping. Spots were dancing in my vision. I tried to hold out my hand to him, but my other arm wasn’t strong enough to hold me up and I fell, hard.

I heard an oath, a word I didn’t know but spoken with equal parts conviction and prayer, and then there was an agonized yell. A hand closed around mine and yanked me up and forward, and Daiman and I stumbled out into the open and sprawled onto the grimy pavement of the alley.

Warmth. I surrendered to it with relief and felt my brain start to work again. I was resting my head on something soft.

Something moving. Daiman.

Daiman? My voice sounded like something out of a horror movie. His breathing continued, but shallowly, and when there was no response, I picked my head up in a sudden rush of fear. Are you—

He managed to pick his head up slightly to look at me. His face had gone grey and he was shaking with the effort of looking at me. Around us, trees flickered and appeared. I could still see the city between them, but I had the sense that we were now invisible to anyone there.

Please don’t kill me in my sleep, he managed.

And then he passed out.

Chapter

Six

We slept for hours. I woke up periodically with just enough energy to check that he was still alive, realize that I should probably take this opportunity to run, and try to stand up. That was where my energy inevitably failed me. Sometime around dawn, I made it about halfway to the entrance of the alleyway by crawling, and then decided that I didn’t have it in me to crawl my way out of a major city and fell back asleep. I rationalized it with the fact that he’d promised he wouldn’t hurt me—and since I hadn’t killed him in his sleep, I figured we might be able to make some sort of new bargain when he woke up.

Anyway, I was exhausted.

I woke sometime later to find Daiman standing over me with a pastry bag and two takeout cups of coffee.

I couldn’t help it, I started laughing hysterically. Hi, I managed.

Hello. He sounded bemused by my reaction.

I didn’t even try to explain. Daiman Bradach, shape-shifting druid with a dagger in his boot, holding pastries and coffee. It was just too much a collision of worlds. And with his shirt torn open at