Page 90 of Shadows of Nightshade
She was still scared.
My chest was painfully full, and my breath was tight. I was torn between fear and duty. What was this feeling?
What was wrong with me?
My hands shook, and my palms sweat as the outside presence became overwhelming, and the urge to run away, to flee, became almost unbearable. My heart pounded as I looked into the dimly lit corner. Self-preservation—a warning ringing in the back of my head that once I moved past this spot, it could not be undone.
Keep going. Escape. Help her.
A fear I’d been fleeing my whole life would soon catch up to me. Everything would change. Should I stay and take the risk? She didn’t even want help—she’d said so herself. I couldn’t save everyone.
I could leave now, stop this, and everything would stay the same.
It’s what we were born to do. It’s our duty.
My heart pounded in rhythm with the word. Duty. Duty.
I would not run, not even if all my carefully constructed plans came undone.
21
“Where are you going?”Finn asked as I slipped into the small space between the barrels and the dirty wall, but I could not answer him.
There was something nearby that was calling to me, something that I could use to help.
I was sure of it.
I moved without effort—without thought—as I knelt on the ground.
It was a tiny space—barely enough room for me to squeeze through—and it was quite uncomfortable. The light could not reach back here. Decades, or maybe even more, of grime was thick around me, and my skin felt scratchy and gross as dust coated my clothes and bare skin.
I pressed my hands against the floor. It was a chilly and uneven surface. Even so, the tips of my fingers burned.
“Bianca, what are you doing?” Finn stood at my back, at the tiny entrance that he had no hope of fitting into, and I could sense his disapproval. “Get back here.”
“Not yet,” I told him. I crawled, pushing forward until the top of my head brushed against a hard, flat surface. It was at that moment, when I could go no further, that the touch of a smooth, and small, metal object brushed against the outside of my left hand.
“Hey, I found something,” I interrupted Finn’s indiscernible grievances, and he quieted. I closed my fingers around the object. “It feels like a ring.”
“Whatever, just get out.” Finn didn’t seem to care about my discovery. “I don’t like you going into places where I can’t see you. It makes me uncomfortable.”
I furrowed my brow. I didn’t care what he liked, nor was I concerned about his comfort. But still, I obeyed. He stood aside as I backed out, and he hovered in front of me, watching as I opened my upturned hand.
“Itisa ring,” he said, pressing his lips together, as he’d doubted me. “What do you think it was doing back there?”
“It was…” I held it to the light between my thumb and pointer finger, noting the way the silver reflected the orange glow. A design of complicated knots was woven around the band, and a green stone was artistically displayed in the center of the elaborate setting.
“It belongs to her,” I said. There was a sense of overwhelming sadness spreading through my chest, even though I wasn’t quite sure why. “The ghost I’m trying to save.”
“How do you know that? Besides, isn’t it—supposedly—trying to kill you?” Finn asked, rolling his eyes. “Obviously, your first reaction would be to help it.”
“It’s not the same ghost!” I glared at him. He would have known this if he’d helped me from the beginning, but now he was so out of the loop it was pathetic. “There’stwoof them.”
“All right, all right.” Finn shook his head. “So, how are you planning on saving it?”
“I…” I began, turning the ring between my fingers. “I don’t know.” And that was the frustrating thing.
Honestly, since he’d arrived, I’d been hoping that he might have some ideas. But apparently, he was not as wise as Damen.
