Shadow's Son Read Free Page B

in Othir. How would a voyage suit you?"
    His question caught her off guard. "Suit me? Father, I can't leave
Othir. Anastasia is to be married. That's what I've come to tell you. She's
asked me to be her maiden of honor."
    "I'm quite serious, Josephine. The political tide is shifting faster than
I anticipated. I had hoped we could weather the storm, but I fear it's not
safe anymore."
    "Not safe? Why not?"
    He eased back in his chair, suddenly looking old and feeble. "Affairs
on the Capitoline are in disarray"
    Father still used old-fashioned terms like the Capitoline, even though
the Nimean Empire had died out ages ago and everyone else had taken to
calling it Celestial Hill.
    "There is unrest in the streets," he continued. "And the prelate's
ability to contain it grows weaker. Just the other day, a man was killed
not three blocks from our doorstep. Suffice it to say I wish you to adjourn
to a safer location until these problems pass."
    "I was out the whole afternoon and I didn't see anything amiss. The
city is as calm as a summer day. Anyway, Anastasia is my best friend. I
can't miss her wedding, Father. Not for anything."
    "Josey, my dear. I promised your mother I would always see to your
well-being. And I act from my own selfish desires. I couldn't bear to see
you come to harm. You possess the key to my heart."
    She placed a hand on her bosom. Under the lace fronting of her dress,
the cool hardness of a pendant pressed against her skin. She knelt before
him and folded her hands on his lap.
    "Mother wasn't afraid of anything. She wouldn't want me to leave
your side."
    He brushed a rogue curl from her face. The corners of his eyes drooped
amid folds of wrinkles. "She would want you to trust my judgment and
obey my wishes. Please, Josey, pack your things. I have arranged for a ship."

    "Father, please!"

    "No, Josey. My mind is adamant on this. You will go to Navarre and
remain there until I send for you. The new exarch is a good man and as
trustworthy as we'll find in times such as these. He will see you safe-"
    Josey jumped to her feet, her entire body trembling. "I won't go! You
cannot make me."
    "It is settled. Chide me no more on this subject, Daughter."
    Cheeks wet with tears, she dashed from the study, brushing past
Fenrik in the hallway loaded with wrapped bundles from the carriage. She
slammed the door to her room and stood at the foot of the feather bed,
hands clenched at her sides. How could he be so cruel? Why couldn't he
see that she couldn't leave? They needed each other. She had no other
family. Only him, and now he was sending her away. What would she tell
Anastasia?
    Josey took deep breaths and composed herself. Tears wouldn't get her
anywhere. She sat down at her dressing table and began to brush her hair
with short, hard strokes. She needed to think, to devise some argument to
sway her father. She had to convince him to let her stay. She had to.

    Raging flames painted the night sky in hues of orange and gold, and threw
shadows across the yard of the villa where the tall bodies sprawled. Caim peered
through the wooden slats of the fence.
    "We have to go," a voice whispered behind him.
    Caim wanted to turn away, but his limbs had turned to stone. The frigid
wind flogged his small body. The cold slid through his veins like ice water. There
was blood on his hands. He wiped them on his shirt, but they wouldn't come clean.
    The world shimmered and he was standing in the yard. A large man slumped
at his feet. Strings of red-black blood ran from the wound in his chest. A tremor
ran through Caim as the corpse opened its eyes, black spheres without irises or
whites. A whisper issued from blue-tinged lips.
    `Justice .... my son. "
    Caim opened his eyes and was greeted by a razor-sharp moonbeam that
pierced through the slats of the window shutters. A cool breeze flitted over his chest as the last vestiges of the dream-the images of fire and
death-sifted through his mental grasp.