Page 111 of Shackled By Shadows

The soldiers nod in unison, take the maps, and hurry off without another word.

“What was that about?” I ask, stepping up to him.

“We need to do more,” Zander replies, his voice low but firm.

“I’ve sent them to monitor the king’s movements and check old routes Oberon used. We need any piece of information we can get on this attack.”

“Where’s Ash?” I ask, hoping for some distraction from the whirlwind of my thoughts.

“He’ll be going with them,” Zander says. “It’s the only way to cover all the routes and still be back before sunset.”

He begins to walk away, and I rush to catch up, stepping in line beside him.

“I want to go,” I demand, my voice edged with frustration. “I can’t keep waiting around here. I’m going mad.”

Zander looks at me, his expression unreadable. He studies me for a long moment before responding, “You’re needed here.”

I roll my eyes, a sharp retort escaping my lips. “You sound like Oberon,” I snap, harsher than I intend.

Zander stiffens slightly, his eyes narrowing, but his voice remains even. “That is not the insult you mean it to be.”

I ignore his comment, desperation creeping into my voice. “Give me something to do,” I plead. “I need to feel like I’m helping. Like I’m making a difference.”

Zander’s gaze softens, though his expression remains serious.

“You are more valued than you realize,” he says quietly, before continuing. “But if you insist . . . I’m sending another small scouting party out beyond the walls. Stealth will be key. We can’t risk being seen, but we need to know if there’s more out there that we may have missed.”

“I’m in,” I say, my eagerness betraying me.

Zander shoots me a sidelong glare but gestures for me to follow him as he leads me to another small party waiting near the gate.

As we approach, I take in the unusual group Zander has assembled. A tall wood Fae, looking as solid and unmoving as the trees themselves. A beautiful, slender female I haven’t seen before, her sheer clothes flowing elegantly with every step. And a shorter, stockier male who doesn’t seem particularly impressed by anything, his sour expression the only indication of his mood.

Zander turns to the group, giving them the briefing. “Lyra will be leading this mission,” he announces, his tone firm but not unkind. “She’s been debriefed, and you are to follow her lead.”

I blink in surprise at the sudden responsibility he thrust upon me.

Zander gives me a brief nod before turning to the group. “Be back by dusk, and under no circumstances are you to be seen.”

The soldiers nod, all except for the smaller male, who simply grunts in response.

“Let’s move,” I say, my voice steady despite the rapid thumping of my heart. This mission is mine to lead, and I feel the thrill of purpose settle over me.

As we step out of the gates and into the open terrain beyond the ward’s protection, I immediately feel it, the shift in the air, the subtle but undeniable change in the magic that has been so familiar to me. The weight of the wards has been lifted, leaving an eerie stillness behind. I can feel the pulse of something ancient and wild beyond the barrier, something that is no longer tethered by the protections we have relied on.

I lead the way, my boots crunching softly against the dry earth as I move ahead, followed closely by my small but skilled party.

Each one of them was chosen for their stealth, their ability to blend with the environment, and move unseen. They are the best at what they do, and I trust them with this mission, though the weight of the responsibility settles heavily on my shoulders.

The wood Fae, tall and sturdy, walks silently beside me. His appearance almost melts into the landscape, like he has been part of it for centuries. His long limbs and textured bark-like skin allow him to vanish among the trees, his presence barely even noticeable. His name is Kaelen.

Beside him is Vaella, the tall, slender female who moves like a breeze. She is ethereal, with skin that seems to shimmer in the dappled light, almost translucent. At times, she appears so delicate, so insubstantial, that she seems to fade into nothingness entirely. Her ability to disappear is unparalleled, and I don’t doubt that if it comes down to it, she could vanish in plain sight.

The third member of our group is Jorik, a stocky, short male whose gruff demeanor doesn’t match the quiet grace with which he moves. His heavy frame is often at odds with the speed of his steps, but he is surprisingly nimble for someone who appears so cumbersome. He keeps close to the ground, using rocks and fallen branches to hide his movements. The way he stays hidden in plain sight makes him invaluable to the mission.

Each of them blends into the landscape in ways I could never replicate. I watch as Vaella drifts through the trees, her movements a blur of grace, while Kaelen’s long limbs stretch to reach higher branches with barely a sound. Jorik is close to the ground, his eyes sharp, always looking for cover as he darts between stones and the undergrowth.

I can’t help but feel out of place. Every part of me feels loud, the crack of twigs beneath my feet too obvious, too out of sync with the effortless stealth of the others. I have grown accustomed to blending in with the rebellion, to fighting with strength rather than stealth. But this is different.