The Shadow Reader Read Online Free PDF Page A

strange sight—medieval, I guess I should say—but it’s a sight I’ve become somewhat used to over the years. They’re dressed in typical non-noble fae fashion. Men and women both wear white or pale-brown tunics over dark pants that are stuffed into black boots. A few wear armor similar to Aren’s. It’s made from the bark of a jaedric tree. The Court treats theirs with a substance that darkens and shines it, but the rebels don’t. Theirs is dull and splotchy. Small drawstring pouches are tied to the weapon belts cinched around their waists. They’re the same kind of pouches as the one I have stuffed into my backpack, which I haven’t seen since Aren knocked me out. Those pouches hold anchor-stones the same as mine does.
    The fae notice me and a whisper passes through the camp. When their silver eyes meet mine, they end their conversations. Pretty soon, everyone’s staring. No one’s muttering a syllable.
    Blue lightning flashes over their skin, and the hair on the back of my neck prickles. These people despise me, especially the trio sitting on logs several paces to my right. Swords lie in scabbards on the ground at their feet, and two of the men’s shirts are stained red. They’re the attackers Kyol engaged when they tried to block my escape. At the time, there were six of them. Some didn’t survive. That bothers me even though it shouldn’t. Those deaths are their own fault. When I track fae for the Court, Kyol always tries to capture our targets. He only kills if it’s necessary. These rebels made it necessary when they attacked me.
    “Aren!” A female voice shatters the silence. She closes the inn’s front door, then hurries down the porch steps, and the entire camp is suddenly in motion welcoming Aren back. It’s clear everyone here respects him, and I have to admit he has a certain amount of charisma. I watch him grin and shake hands, and though I don’t understand what’s being said, I get the impression he’s shrugging off what he’s just done. That’s irritating. Abducting me might not have been difficult, but there will be repercussions. I’ll make sure of it.
    The woman who called Aren’s name rushes forward and throws her arms around his neck. He returns her embrace, but turns his hips away in a safe-hug. It’s a platonic hug between friends, though I’m positive she wants it to be more. With shells braided through her gold-blond hair and stone bracelets clinking together on her wrists, she’s beautiful. And important, too, if her clothing is any indication. She’s dressed in a bright blue tunic and clean, snug-fitting pants. The material looks expensive, like only-affordable-to-nobles expensive, and her collar and the tunic’s flowing hem are adorned with chips of gemstones. Everyone notices her. Aren does, too, I’m sure, but maybe he has a prettier girl tucked away somewhere?
    While he’s distracted with his homecoming, I experiment with a small, almost insignificant step backward. No one seems to notice, so I retreat another inch. I can’t outrun the fae. I guess I’m hoping I can put some distance between me and the camp before anyone figures out I’m gone, but I don’t make it one full stride before Aren turns. I freeze and don my best innocent expression.
    “This is the nalkin-shom ,” he says to his audience.
    I frown. I’ve never learned the fae’s language—humans aren’t allowed to—but I’m pretty sure what he called me is an insult.
    “You didn’t kill her,” the pretty female says. She scrutinizes me with obvious contempt. I don’t like her either, and it’s not just because she’s beautiful. The only reason she spoke in English was to unsettle me, to let me know that killing me had been a very real option. The reminder does bother me, but I manage to keep my chin up and glare.
    “This is Lena, daughter of Zarrak,” Aren says to me. “She’ll show you to your room.”
    Her scowl deepens. “ She gets a room?”
    “Yes. Make sure it’s one on