Sea of Shadows by Kelley Armstrong Page A

escape.
    “Ashyn, please. I’m locked in a cage. If anything comes, I don’t stand a chance.”
    She hesitated, then threw open his cell latch and raced down the hall.

Fifteen
    A shyn and Ronan crept along the barrack wall. Ashyn could barely see—the village lights were out and the moonless sky offered little help. But Ronan seemed as surefooted as Daigo and equally adept at seeing in the dark. He padded along as quiet as a thief.
    She tried to emulate him but kept stepping on pebbles and stumbling in the dark. Tova’s nails clicked along the stone.
    As they moved, Ashyn squinted into the night and listened, but there was nothing to see, nothing to hear.
    She focused on Ronan’s back, tapping him with directions as they moved. They passed the barracks and two more buildings before he stopped. Something lay on the road ahead. Ashyn squinted, then swallowed.
    It was the guard. Facedown on the road.
    Ronan knelt a few paces away, as if he could check the guard’s condition from there. Ashyn started forward. Tova caught her cloak in his teeth, and when he did, she saw why Ronan hadn’t gotten closer. The guard lay in a pool of blood. His face was turned toward them, his eyes wide and empty. His throat . . .
    He was dead. There was no doubt of that.
    It couldn’t have been those smoke spirits. You don’t try to converse with smoke.
    As they circled the blood, she saw footprints leading away from it. Bloody bare footprints.
    Ronan followed her gaze. “Someone must have stolen from the body.” He said it casually, as if looting a corpse was a natural occurrence. “His blades are still there, though. Both of them.”
    Ronan skirted the puddle and picked up the sword. He hefted it. Then he leaned over the guard again and eyed the dagger. It lay under the guard, covered in blood. He took a careful step into the pool and snatched it up. Then he wiped it clean on the guard’s back as Ashyn stared, horrified.
    Ronan slid the dagger into his belt, and pointed the sword. “Onward.”
     
    When they neared her house, Ashyn darted ahead. Ronan caught up at the door, and shot his hand out to stop her from opening it.
    “I’ll go first,” he said, lifting the sword.
    “You’ve seen Moria throw her dagger. If anyone but me opens that door . . .”
    Ashyn expected he’d square his shoulders and say he’d take that risk. Apparently, she’d been in a garrisoned town too long, with warriors who’d never let her step first into danger. Ronan waved for her to go ahead.
    As she reached for the door handle, Tova whined. She looked down to see his nose twitching.
    “It’s all right,” she murmured. “If they aren’t here, we’ll find them.”
    She opened the door. It was dark inside. Tova pushed past hard enough to nearly topple her.
    “Father?” she whispered. The closing door stole the gray glow of the overcast night, plunging them into black. “Moria?”
    She felt her way to the table and lit a lantern. It hissed, then flared. Ronan cast an anxious look at the window.
    “Cover it,” he whispered.
    She frowned at him.
    “Hide the light.”
    She turned the lantern down as much as she could. Tova was at her father’s bedroom door, his nose at the base, whining louder. She walked over and grasped the handle. Tova spun, hitting her hard and knocking her back. Then he planted all four feet and growled. Warning her back, as he’d done in the forest.
    She stared at the door, her heart thumping.
    Ronan came up behind her and snatched the lantern. He opened the bedroom door just enough to squeeze through. Ashyn tried to follow, but Tova knocked her down, then planted himself over her, growling.
    She stared up at him in shock. He ducked his head, whining, as if in apology, but when she tried to rise, he pinned her cloak with one massive paw.
    Ronan stepped from the bedroom. The door clicked shut behind him. He held the lantern low, and she couldn’t see his face.
    “We have to leave,” he said.
    “What?” She