Page 24 of Where Darkness Falls

Cormac shakes his head. “No, because not having an ability gives me the advantage of living a life where the king’s soldiers do not give me a second glance. I live in peace, unless there are attacks from creatures that dare to venture into our village,” he replies.

I lean in slightly, contemplating. “I’ve never thought of it that way. I’ve always believed that an ability is a blessing from Siorai. For the last ten years, I prayed that he’d allow me to wield even the smallest ability. Instead, my memory fails me, and I feel like I’ve been abandoned by everyone but the Cales.”

Cormac places a hand over mine, patting gently.

“I know you don’t remember life before Tiernan and the Drakhul descended upon our kingdom, but I remember King Elias. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories told about his kindness and how he ruled Malvoria in grace and truth. He could’ve ruled our lands however he wished, yet his family chose to see the value in all life. It didn’t matter whetheryou were a Null or a wielder, Elias saw the potential in every Malvorian to make a difference,” he says.

A small smile tugs at the side of his mouth.

“Maeva, just because our current king doesn’t see our worth, doesn’t make us any less valuable. We still have the ability to be kind or compassionate or intelligent or even brave. Those are weapons he can never take from us,” he says, a hint of pride in his tone.

I smile back—feeling lighter, if only for a moment. While this outing is definitely a one time occurrence for me, I enjoy their company. I’m grateful that Cara found this for herself. It’s rare to find such genuine people in Aurelius. The system that’s enforced by the soldiers encourages you to turn your back on your kinsman. However, I don’t believe that to be the case with this lot.

Around midnight, Cara and I bid the group farewell after asking the barkeep if he has any spare torches for our walk home. In our haste to leave, we mistakenly left our lanterns at the Cales’ house.

“Ge’ lost. De’ bof of ya,” sneers the burly barkeep.

“Good sir, we’re two young ladies in need of a torch for the journey home. The mist is quite thick this evening, as you can see through the windows yourself,” Cara says sweetly. “Surely, a lovely gentleman like yourself will have one to spare?”

The barkeep glares as Cara flutters her eyelashes. Begrudgingly, the grumpy man stomps over to the nearest column and grabs a newly lit torch, thrusting it into Cara’s hand. “Now, ge’ out,” he snarls.

“Thank you, sir. Your generosity is duly noted,” Cara replies over her shoulder as we go hastily into the night.

The mist is opaque this evening, making it impossible to see the path ahead or the buildings clearly beyond their silhouettes. Most of the lampposts have burned out for the night, leaving us immersed in the darkness. The wailing spirits and screeching creatures of the wood echo throughout the empty streets, giving an ominous warning about the dangers that lurk in the shadows. We make it to the central square, near the fountain, when I hear heavy footsteps behind us.

Creeeaaakkk… clink… creeeeaaakkk… clink… creaaakkkkk.

I grab Cara’s hand and stop walking, only to have the heavy steps also fall silent.

“Did you hear that?” I whisper, my speech a little slurred.

“Hear what?” she murmurs in her ale-induced daze. “There’s no one else here but us.”

My eyes search the shadows, but I don’t see anyone. Perhaps the stranger watching me earlier has left me slightly jarred, or maybe the unearthly sounds of the creatures are making me anxious. Even still, I could’ve sworn I heard footsteps trailing us.

However, there is only silence.

“I’m sorry. It must be the ale confusing me,” I say softly.

We hold on to one another as we continue our walk. We’re only a few steps ahead when I hear the steps again. They’re a little further away this time. However, they’re the same pattern as earlier—heavy like scuffling metal or armor.

Creeeaaakkk… clink… creeeeaaakkk… clink… creaaakkkkk.

In the dim torchlight, I see Cara’s apprehensive expression, and I know that the sound isn’t my imagination. The thought of an impending threat sobers us immediately. We quicken our pace to create further distance between us and our pursuer. They must’ve noticed our increasing pace because their steps are now rapid.

Creeak… clink… creeak… clink.

My heart thunders wildly in my chest as we go from briskly walking to running as the steps gain on us.

Cre-clink. Cre-clink. Cre-clink.

We’re almost to the edge of the village when a hand grabs my arm from behind, yanking me out of Cara’s grip and slamming me into a wall.

“MAEVA!” Cara screams.

I see another figure approaching from behind her, and panic seizesmy heart.

“Cara!” I yell. “Run!”

---