Into the Shadows by Linda K Hopkins
Chapter 18
Darkness fell, and eventually Lark fell into a fitful doze. The promised food did not arrive, and her belly rumbled hungrily. It was pitch dark, with only the faintest sliver of light coming through the narrow window, when she heard footsteps beyond her room. They stopped outside her door, and she sat up and leaned against the wall, facing the door. There was a loud crack as the door was forced open, and the Drameara stepped into the cell. His large frame filled the door, silhouetted by the light from behind. She stared at him as a slew of contradictory emotions rushed through her.
“You’re alive,” she finally said.
“I’m afraid so, princess. I did tell you that I would find you. Although I’m of two minds as to whether I should just leave you here.”
Lark gave a mental snort. She was pretty certain she was safer in her prison than with him.
“How are you alive? And looking so … alive?” she finished lamely.
“You left me for dead, so that is not your concern. Now let’s get going.”
“What if I don’t want to go with you?”
“That’s not up to you. You were my prisoner first, so I get to take you back.”
“Like chattel!”
“Do you think yourself something better?”
“Yes, I –”
“We don’t have time for this,” he said, striding into the room and dragging her from the bed. She stumbled, then shook herself free and followed him out the door, recognizing that she had little choice in the matter.
“How did you find me?” she demanded quietly, as they slipped from the building.
“You left a trail so clear, any idiot could have found you. I’ve been following you since the first day.” He reached into a bag – the one she had taken from him – and withdrew a hank of hair. “Did you leave this as a sign for me?”
She stared at the white strands as he dropped them back in his bag, then looked up at him. “You’ve been following me since the first day?”
“Hmph.”
“Did you see me take the cuffs to the jeweler?” She stopped. “I lost the cuffs!”
“Keep walking,” he said. “I have the cuffs.”
“How did you manage that?”
“They were left in a drawer.”
He led her down a dimly lit street and around a corner. “Do you have any idea where you’re going?” she asked.
“While you were enjoying your bath – and believe me, I am very grateful that you did – I was learning more about this town. What is it with Cambrians? Everything is so straight and boring!”
“Cambrians are not boring!”
He sent her a quick glance but was silent as they continued walking. He turned another corner, then halted before a tall wall.
“What …?” she began, then stopped when he looked pointedly at the ground. A drain, about eighteen inches high, was cut through the base of the wall. “You cannot expect me to climb through that!”
“Do you think we should go announce ourselves at the gate?”
“But my dress!”
“Why you chose to buy something so inappropriate is beyond me.”
“You are supposed to be dead!” she muttered. She looked down at the drain again, then with a sigh, dropped to her knees and crawled through on her elbows. At least it was dry, she consoled herself as she reached the other side and rose to her feet.
She watched as the Drameara heaved himself through. “Have you also found us a place to sleep?” she asked as he rose.
“We travel back to Riverton.”
“But it’s pitch black out here!”
“And what do you think they will do when they discover you gone in the morning? The more distance we can put between us and Falvia, the better. They are unlikely to look for you in a Rhymer town.”
Another sigh escaped Lark. “Fine,” she mumbled, picking up her skirts and following him into the dark night.
It was almost dawn when Riverton came into sight. Lark was so exhausted she could barely walk, but the Drameara gave her no opportunity to rest. She barely noticed the streets they traveled on as she stumbled along behind him, and it was not until he pushed open a door that she realized they were back at the tavern where she had spent the previous night.
“Drameara.” She recognized Gloria’s voice. “What’s this? What are you doing bringing a Cambrian here?”
“I thought we were supposed to put our differences aside,” Lark mumbled, dropping to one of the chairs in the empty room. Gloria turned to look at her, her eyes narrowing as she did so.
“Star? Is that you?”
“Star?” the Drameara said, his eyebrows lifting as he looked at her.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Lark snapped. “You probably already knew that I used the name Star, since you seem to know so much else.”
A look of genuine amusement crossed his face. “I did.”
“Star’s not yer name?” Gloria asked.
“It is now,” Lark replied.
Gloria crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at Lark. “I offered you nothing but kindness and friendship, and you repay me with lies and secrets!”
“Well, I, er …”
“The truth! Or get out!”
She glanced at the Drameara to see he was watching her curiously. “I was escaping him,” Lark finally said. “I’m his prisoner.”
“Prisoner?” Gloria’s gaze darted between them before settling on Lark. “To what purpose?”
“That is a good question, for which I would love an answer,” Lark said. “But I believe the ultimate plan is to kill me.”
“No! Surely not?” Gloria said, turning to look at him. “Would you?” He inclined his head, and she frowned angrily. “You’re toying with her, like a cat toys with a mouse. Why?”
“Ask her who she is.”
Gloria turned back to Lark with a frown. “Who are you?”
“Go on, princess, tell her,” the Drameara said, and Lark shot him an angry glare. There was no telling what would happen if she told Gloria the truth. “Your name,” he said.
“Lark.”
Gloria looked confused. “Lark?”
“Lady Snowlark, daughter of the commander.”
The color drained from Gloria’s face as she glanced around earnestly. Taking Lark by the arm, she dragged her to her feet. “Come with me,” she hissed. “It’s not safe for you here. Not you,” she said, turning to the Drameara and wagging her finger in his face. “You stay here!”
She led Lark from the large hall and down the passage to a small room, similar to the one where Lark had stayed before, and closed the door. “You poor thing, being dragged all the way from Lenora. And they are all saying that you’re dead! They say you were taken by a Shadow Warrior – how did you end up with the Drameara?”
“According to the Drameara, the Shadow Warrior told him to keep me prisoner.”
Gloria nodded. “The Drameara serve the Shadow Warriors. But why? Why didn’t the Warrior kill you?”
“I have no idea. I think because of who I am.” She cocked her head. “Why are you still being nice to me?”
“Ah, my dear, we are both women caught up in the politics of men. As much as I hate the commander and the king – and believe me, I do – I don’t think we should live in such enmity.”
Lark shook her head slowly. “You are a wise woman, Gloria. You should be a princely advisor!”
“Not to our current prince,” Gloria said with a snort. “Forgive me, I know he has claimed you, but a vainer man there could not be.”
“I agree!” Lark said with a laugh. She yawned, and Gloria looked at her closely.
“When last did you sleep?”
“Well, I dozed a bit in the Cambrian prison before the Drameara took me back as his prisoner!”
“You were in a Cambrian prison?”
“It’s a bit of a story, but the Cambrians weren’t as willing to believe me as you are.” She yawned again.
“Lie down and get some rest,” Gloria urged. “I’ll make sure the Drameara doesn’t disturb you.”
Lark smiled. “Thank you, Gloria. I doubt you’d succeed if he really wanted to get me, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
They shared a smile as Gloria left the room and closed the door behind her. She opened it a moment later. “I almost forgot, here is the key. You should lock the door, just in case.” She laid a key on the table, and with one last smile, left the room. Lark locked the door, then lay down on the bed with a sigh. Her mind was reeling, both from tiredness and the events of the last twenty-four hours, but she had no sooner closed her eyes than she was asleep.
She woke to banging on the door, and the sound of Gloria’s voice. “Leave her, she needs to rest!”
“Why are you being so accommodating, Gloria?” The Drameara’s voice was clear through the door. “Should I be worried?”
She heard Gloria huff in annoyance. “You think I’ve sent a message to Issachar telling him to come get her? Don’t be ridiculous. You know me better than that! Besides, I have nothing against her.”
“You expect me to believe that? I’ve heard you say how much you hate the Crimson Guard. I also know that you are especially friendly with the Red Lion leader!”
“That means nothing. I hate the Guard, yes! But ordinary people, no!”
“But she is no ordinary person! Her father commands the Crimson Guard.”
Gloria sighed. “Aye, you’re right, I have every reason to hate her. But I feel rather sorry for her.”
“Nice words, Gloria, but I still don’t trust you. Now open the door.”
Gloria refused, but Lark had already risen. She had not even thought to suspect Gloria’s motives, which, she now realized, had been very foolish of her. She turned the key and opened the door as the Drameara raised his fist to pound once more.
“Oh,” she said, blinking, “what are you doing here? I thought I heard noises and wanted to investigate.”
Gloria glanced at the Drameara, but he did not return the look. “Time to go, princess.”
“Let me get my boots,” she said. She turned to the bed where she had left them, and Gloria followed her into the room.
“I’m sorry you weren’t able to sleep for longer,” she said.
“I managed to get some sleep, and feel much better,” Lark replied.
“Good.” She waited as Lark finished tying her boots, then pulled her into an embrace when she rose. “All the best, my lady,” she said, as Lark stood stiff. “And do not let yourself be killed.”
Gloria pulled back to look at Lark, frowning when Lark did not smile, and stepped away. “Good luck,” she said, then turned and exited the room, brushing past the Drameara, who was waiting at the door. He was already walking down the passage, and she hurried to catch up.
“We will take the back door,” he said, not bothering to check that she was following. She took a deep breath and let out a big sigh. Nothing had changed. She was still the Drameara’s prisoner, and he was still a jackass.