“This is not going to happen!” said Molle Grinderhammer, and his heavy fist whacked on the table with a thunderous bang. “Never, ever!” Added he as to emphasize his utmost determination.
“I don’t expect a quick decision. Please think it through. If you agree, you will be appointed the chief smith and engineer of Windwarden. Apart from earning money from your trade, you will be paid regular remuneration of two hundred gold talents per month. The land I mentioned will, of course, become your property. Take your time…”
“Not today, not tomorrow!” Mole shook his head. “A thousand years later? No! Our beards are not for sale. We came back to this place because we were born here, and our ancestors lived here long before your clan came south. And what did we find here after returning? Houses were neglected and desecrated by the beasts. The place was in ruins! We fixed them. We built a wall. We are almost ready to resume the mining, and you suggest we resettle?! Bah! Not in your dreams, Teheni.”
The atmosphere at the table was intense. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, watching the struggle resolving between the daughter of the Crimson Alder clan’s head and Molle Grinderhammer. Despite Shadow doing her best to ease the tension, the smith was on the offensive, and the grim faces of all other vards around him showed that he had their full support.
“I understand that you put a lot of effort into rebuilding the place, but you just started. It’s not too late to move on. You know better than me that magical creatures are not the only threat in the mountains. Bandits, beastmen, slave hunters—name it. They all fled when the creatures appeared. Believe me; now they are ready to return too. And when they do, they will be more hungry and vicious. Regarding the old silver mine… do you believe it could yield you profits soon? How many clansmen have you got here? Thirty? Not more. It will take you years to get at least something from the mining.”
“We are not in a hurry. Me telling you again: we came here not for profit but because this is our ancestral site, and we’re going to restore it and see it flourish!” Grinderhammer proudly lifted his chin.
That was the final chord of their dispute. Shadow didn’t manage to convince her opponent in the slightest. The prolonged supper was over, the sunlight outside was gone, and dusk fell on the valley. Molle suggested wardens stay at his house, but Shadow refused without thinking:
“I already paid for the room in the village.”
That disappointed vards even more, if that was possible, but Shadow didn’t care.
“Very well then,” Molle stroked his beard. “I will find someone to light you the way. It’s getting dark, and it’s not so safe in our places, you say.” He stood up from his chair and went out without saying goodbye. After thanking Molle’s wife and other family members for their hospitality, Shadow also left the table.
Two of Molle’s sons with torches accompanied wardens downhill. The strong wind pushed them in their backs, clearly suggesting to get a move on. Upon returning to the village’s square, Molle’s sons left for the tavern.
“This reminds me of an old saying: it’s easier to move a mountain than a vard,” laughed Fang before dismounting.
“If you think it helps, you are wrong!” Shadow replied bitterly.
She felt worse than ever and couldn’t fall asleep for a while.
What did I do wrong? she thought, lying in a bed and looking at the shadows moving over the ceiling. I didn’t expect it to be an easy task. I didn’t expect to succeed, so why do I feel so discontent? Have I made a mistake? Should I be less straightforward? Sacred ancestors, of course, I should, but would it help—this is a question! He’s a bull-headed, goddamn vard. Nothing on earth could convince him. Ten days Firestorm gave me. How can I use them? Approaching Grinderhammer again will be just a waste of time. But what else could I do?
A good plan was all that she needed at the moment, but nothing came to her mind, and neither could she calm down and sleep. Shadow felt like tossing and turning back and forth but was lying still, afraid of waking up Star.
The room was dimly lit by the moonlight coming from the half-open shutters. The air was, however, still and musty with the smell of the old house. The wind outside calmed down.
Star lay beside Shadow while Hawk and Fang shared the other bed. Maybe an hour passed, and the anxiety faded; instead came fear. It was childish, even primal fear of darkness and monsters hiding in the room’s corners and under the bed. It rose deep inside her soul without any reason. The moonlight became brighter thanks to Taus now looking straight into the window, while shadows crawling over the ceiling turned into black paws stretching toward the bed.
What is all this fear about? Shadow thought. Am I afraid of creatures of the night? Nonsense, moon wolves don’t sneak inside houses anymore. They, too, know what the fear is. They don't approach human dwellings nowadays.
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But this is a remote place. Sometimes people disappear here, said an unpleasant cunning voice in her head, It would be better to stay at Molle’s place as a compliment to his hospitality, feeling yourself much safer behind his stone walls. Why couldn’t you make a single correct choice?
What is going on with me? When have I started speaking to myself?
Shadow closed the window shut and soon fell asleep for a short while when she less expected to, but her dream quickly turned into a nightmare. Shadow saw herself floundering in a middle of a giant muddy pit. She slowly sank into a thick greasy substance, desperately trying to get out. Black snakes were grabbing her legs and arms, strangling her by the throat, and pulling her deep inside the foul depths. The pit sucked her in, and mud covered Shadow up until the top of her head.
That must be the end, she thought. Why, then, can I still feel myself?
The dream changed, and Shadow saw herself standing before the mirror. It was she, without any mistake: her figure, her hair—everything as she knew it, except the face… Shadow could hardly recognize herself, disfigured by a terrible scar crossing her left cheek and nose. She stood still, horrified by this nightmare even more when another figure appeared in the mirror. From behind her came a dim silhouette. Taller than a man, with a body like black mist and a wolf muzzle instead of a face. His large paw patted Shadow on her shoulder.
The awakening was quick and sudden. Before realizing what was going on, Shadow jumped out of bed, and hastily grabbed her sword, standing next to the headboard. She spent a few seconds in a combat stance, breathing heavily, listening to the sounds around and waiting for the creature to attack before remembering where she was.
“Shadow? Is everything alright?” she heard the Star’s sleepy voice.
“Yes… it’s nothing.”
Returning to bed and trying to sleep again wasn’t an option, and Shadow quietly sneaked out. The room was on the first floor and had outdoor stairs leading down to the garden. There, Shadow found a small place with low fahwa trees growing sparsely.
The night was pleasant and warm, with no sign of coming autumn. Enjoying the fresh yet not cold air, Shadow slowly began to dance. She moved between the sleeping trees, accompanied by the pale light of the moon. Waning Taus was slowly leaning towards the top of a hill and looked straight at the house.
The blade of Shadow’s sword was moving fast, laying precise cuts through the air with a light swishing sound. She warmed up quickly. Somehow, it felt more relaxing to be surrounded by night than to stay inside, and soon the fears left her.
The door creaked, and Hawk walked down the stairs.
“Can’t sleep, too?” he asked. “Mind a dance for two?”
He had a sword with him, also.
“A pleasure,” Shadow bowed in one-third.
Hawk raised his weapon.
“The dreaming rose dance?”
“Nice choice.”
He knew that it was her favorite.
“Let’s begin then.”
There was enough space between the trees for both of them to maneuver. Without actually trying to reach each other, without crossing the blades, they were repeating the combat moves mirroring steps of one another.
Shadow learned “dreaming rose” from her mother when she was six. At that time, she was holding a wooden stick, not a sword, yet she imagined herself a real warrior while repeating the steps. Now she has become one.
There’s nothing to fear. Even if I fail another task… even if I have to fight a moon wolf, there are friends by my side who are ready to help. I’m not a child anymore to let fears take over.
Although slow and seemingly relaxing, the ‘dreaming rose’ wasn’t easy at all. Their blades were gracefully floating through the air. Their feet slid by the ground, stepping over the roots and bumps. Hawk’s motions were fluent and calm. Looking at him as at her mirror, Shadow felt serenity. The world disappeared, and only two blades were left, enjoying their dance in the moonlight flickering in the canopy of branches.
They stopped, and after a pause and final bow, Hawk came closer and put a hand on her shoulder:
“Thank you for the dance, Arrow.”
“Thank you too, my friend,” she replied.
She smiled because it reminded her of a dream, except, in reality, it was not a bestial paw but a hand of a good friend.
“I believe it is best to go inside and sleep a little. I know you won’t leave Surram Dahla without that stubborn vard. But it’s going to be hard to persuade him. Give yourself time to rest.”
Shadow stepped sideways and looked at the sky.
“Please, give me some time then to be alone here…” she whispered.
Hawk’s hand slipped off her shoulder.
“Of course,” he said after hesitation and walked towards the stairs.
Shadow sat on the ground next to the tree, put the sword on her knees, and closed her eyes.
The stubborn vard may stay here for the rest of his life, she thought, breathing in slowly. I don’t care. Let him stay here until the mountains crumble of age. Another important thing I must do is investigate what happened to that poor woman’s family. She needs my help. Highlanders are very secretive, yet she came to me so quickly, which means she was despaired of getting help from her kin. But why would they need to hide something about the missing people? I will figure this out. But that’s tomorrow. Tonight I indeed need to rest.
In contradistinction to that, she didn’t feel like returning inside. It felt so good sitting on the grass among the trees. Shadow could almost imagine her in the Alder halls. The night was far from quiet: sounds of crickets and birds were heard from the river, and dogs were barking somewhere in the village from time to time. Hard to say what exactly drove her attention; maybe, it was that strange feeling that someone was looking at her, which suddenly returned.
Shadow got lucky. She opened her eyes at the very right moment to notice a dark silhouette moving between the fahwa trees opposite her. Translucent bands, woven of the darkness itself, intertwined in a misty figure, so black in the center that it seemed to absorb all the light. Shadow looked at it for a few seconds, unable to believe her eyes, and then the moon wolf attacked. It jumped straight towards her. In a split second, the creature lost its form turning into a formless dark cloud, becoming one with the surrounding night. Shadow managed to leave the line of attack and didn’t lose her sword. She jumped to the side right from where she sat, rolled over her shoulder, hit a tree root, and then sprung up, ready to defend herself. Almost in time… the dark obsidian blade was heading with a speed of an arrow straight into her face.