Page 15 of Shadows and Flames
He nodded quickly, jostling his red curls. “Yes…um. What is your name?”
And then, because apparently we were all insane, she gave him the Shadow salute and smirked. “Noruh. Though, that’s Master Noruh to you.”
“Thank you, Master Noruh! Are you all friends?” As we let the boy pack his things before we left Nethras, I couldn’t help notice that the longest goodbyes came from Whitley and Lydia. The children waved and gave quick hugs, but nothing that lingered. The two adult Lylithans that ran the home had been a bit hesitant, but they were aware of the lad’s goals and ultimately gave their blessing.
The other motivation for the visit with the caregivers was more information on Elián’s queen. They’d even given him the two letters she’d sent, though he hadn’t asked for them. And when I caught him reaching in his pocket, no doubt to feel the thick paper between his fingers—or reading the female’s words to himself when he thought we weren’t paying him any attention—I hadn’t said a word. Noruh should give me a fucking award for how much restraint I was exerting.
“Oh, since we were wee acolytes trying to stay out of trouble.” She flicked one last glance at Elián and me. “You both are sponsoring him?”
He nodded, short and sure, and I sighed before doing the same. If this would help him heal, give him something besides fruitless journeys and the bottle to focus on, then I’d be all for it. Really, we wouldn’t have to spend much time with the lad outside of our training responsibilities.
Nor wasn’t lying—the life of an acolyte was hard. Thank fuck I’d long ago earned my leathers.
“All right.” She waved us behind her. The lad skipped along while we followed at a slower pace. “We’ll get you to your room for now. Luckily for you, we just had an acolyte graduate to full rank. I’ll send out a message to the rest of the Elders.”
The Shadow Well halls were dark and familiar, both home and not. But with the lad’s excitement, I couldn’t help feel the surge of gratitude for what it provided me. Now and then, when I’d been younger than him.
Somewhere along our journey through the Well, Marco clutched onto Elián’s tunic, betraying the nerves that he’d expressed before through jabbering. But the ancient halls seemed to even intimidate him into silence. What I saw now as my default, a home I no longer bothered thinking about because it was alwaysthere, was clearly salvation to him.
I tried again to imagine myself in the lad’s place. As Noruh launched into a brief explanation of acolyte life in her light brogue, I traced the steps I took with Elián and Leandro when Emmett provided the same introduction to me.
Instead of sneaking my hand into that of the twins’ father, though, I’d kept mine in my pockets, eyes swiveling and senses taking in everything. At once accepting the gift but also seeking out the sharp edges that may slice me later.
Now, little fingers squeezed mine as we came to a stop in the acolyte wing. Another set of wards protected it should we be under attack, and the metallic taste of it brushed along my tongue.
“This will be your room for now.” Nor gestured to the closed door before knocking.
Through our joined hands, I felt Marco stiffen further. His fist tightened in Elián’s tunic, but neither of us attempted to shake the boy away. Nogón had an uncharacteristic affection for him, and I wasn’t fucking cruel. Many days of travel provided reassurance that he knew how to wash his hands, at least.
A quick scuffling sounded from behind the door before it swung open.
I’d no idea the name of the acolyte assigned to this room, and she remembered herself, bowing her head, arms down by her sides, and feet planted evenly on the floor. The gray, woolen tunic and trousers were slightly rumpled, as if she’d been relaxing before we’d interrupted.
A gray braid hung toward the floor as her lashes of the same color fluttered wildly. Her breaths were quick. “Masters Noruh, Tomás, and Elián. Good afternoon. T-to what do I owe this honor?”
Noruh clucked her tongue. “Calm yourself, Briar.” The acolyte gasped, straightened even further, when Nor used her name. “We have a new prospective acolyte, and he needs a room.”
The boy’s fingers squeezed mine a little tighter, holding on for his life while buzzing with excitement. “Hello,” he whispered and tugged at Nogón’s tunic, shifting the embroidered fabric. “My name is Marco.”
Briar relaxed a bit, lifting her head. The hard look in her silver eyes forced a healthy roll from mine. “Hello.”
These damn acolytes took everything way too seriously. It wasn’t as if The Shadows limited the numbers on purpose. Well, we did, but when half the Lylithan race was dead, there weren’t exactly droves knocking on the doorstep. To be an acolyte was to undergo a selective process. Sponsorship from a current Shadow was rare, but it wasn’t this cutthroat competition either.
“I will clear the other side of the room for you. Then we will get you proper clothing.” Briar gave the boy’s travel-worn tunic and trousers a disdainful up and down, and I didn’t like it one bit.
“The boy hasn’t been accepted yet, so his clothes will do for now. And I trust that you will be kind and a true representative of The Shadows.”
Nor and Elián gave me a funny look, but they should’ve known that I could—and would—pull rank when I needed. The boy needed discipline and to see the reality outside of childlike dreams, but I wouldn’t hear of Briar or anyone else being untoward. That would be in terribly bad taste.
The young acolyte’s shoulders stiffened right back up at my thinly veiled threat.
The acolytes had their own community, customs. There were so few of them, and their positions so unique, how could they not? Perhaps Nogón, Noruh, Leandro, and I would’ve been friends otherwise, but spending every waking hour with them scrubbing floors, training, and whispering in the shadows forged a bond that I still felt, even with one of us dead and gone.
The greatest gift The Shadows had given me wasn’t my freedom from Sjatas. No, it’d been the two idiots who were my family in every way but birth. When he was tired down to his fingernails, the boy would need to lean on himself and acolytes like Briar the most.
“Yes, Master Tomás.”
I grunted and started to unravel my fingers from the lad’s, let him go off and have Briar help him get his bearings.
