The White Shadow

29. Caught

"Every guard, every spy that I sent after him, turns up dead. By the white shadow. Why can't they see that as proof?" Carson slammed his fist down upon the table. Knuckles stung. Jaw aching from gritting his teeth. Head hurting from excess thinking and plotting. Heart tired of all the anger.

     The door flew open. "Whatever you're trying to solve right now can wait." Roxanne. Streaks of tears on her face but eyes filled with anger.

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Firmin was on his way to the meeting in the duke's gardens, though he felt nothing like doing that. Leaving Reina alone, and neither himself.

     Carson came marching from around the corner. Two, no, four guards behind him. Still feeling the split lip and bruise on his cheek due to their last encounter, Firmin tensed immediately even though they were in public.

     "Commander Firmin, you are under arrest!" Carson announced. He motioned with his hands and two of the soldiers were upon him.

     "What is this?" Firmin demanded, as his arms were taken. He jerked free one arm, but they punched him in the gut and held tighter.

     "You are accused of having been seen with the white shadow. Comforting her."

     "W-what? That is outrageous!"

     "And that was yesterday, right outside the gates of Ferringale. You cannot deny this, and until you prove otherwise, you go to jail."

     Firmin struggled to understand. "So the duke just believes your lies? Your fantasies?"

     "Not his fantasies," Roxanne came walking up.

     "Roxanne?"

     "I saw you, Firmin. I was there last night."

     "No," Firmin said, shaking his head, refusing to believe that. "Prove it."

     "You were telling her that she did nothing wrong when she killed a child. A baby!"

     Firmin watched as tears came to her green eyes. "Roxanne—"

     "Guards, take him!"

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Water dropping. An occasional shuffling noise, murmuring from the other cells—Firmin had no idea how long he'd been there.

     Nor how long he would.

     God, what would Reina think when he would no longer go to see her? Who would help her not devour the entire dukedom? Help her get through the tragedy of their lost child?

     He could not bear to think of this now, but it was all that was on his mind.

     "Oh, Reina, I wish you'd know where I was." He just wanted to see her so much right now. More than ever before.

     He heard footsteps. He straightened. "Reina?"

     The door unlocked. No, she would slip underneath. Still, he held on to hope . . .

     The door creaked open and Roxanne entered.

     "There's no longer reason to hide anything, Firmin. The truth is out now. I saw it all."

     Firmin looked away.

     "There's no way this will end well if you keep fighting, Firmin. Give it up. Help us. And in the end, you will yourself come to know peace."

     "I have peace with her," he scoffed.

     Roxanne took a step closer. "Understand I must do this. For you could not." She looked around. Waiting for him to speak, probably. "Carson is discussing with the duke right now what to do with you, in case you're wondering."

     "It was my child, Roxanne," Firmin whispered, unable to keep it to himself. "Our child."

     She said nothing. Sniffed. Looked away. "You should really have ended what could only have been a life of running while you could, Firmin."

     She turned and walked back out the door.

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But when the door closed, Roxanne couldn't keep up the coldness and started weeping. She raced up the stairs as fast as only possible. Tripped but went on. Wanted the freedom of the little balcony by the roses. Slammed into someone.

     "Roxanne?" A gentle voice. She looked up and saw Carson. His blue eyes.

     "I can't," she blurted.

     He took her in his arms. Held her tight.

     When her tears dried, she took a step backward. "Apologies, milord."

     "Don't," said Carson. A smile came to his face. "The honor was mine."

     His gaze—oh, it was smoldering. Roxanne couldn't hold back and leaned closer. Closer. Until their lips touched.

     She broke from the kiss only to see his expression.

     "How very long I have waited for this moment," he said. Her head in his hands, locked in another long kiss, they stumbled towards the corner of the balcony.

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"It is time we stop waiting, and act," Roxanne was declaring, standing at the meeting.

     "I'm lost," said the duke. "Now that our only option to destroy our enemy ends up her ally, I no longer know what we can do."

     "Our army," said Carson, nodding. He rose up, looked around himself. "Our shadow killer army. Now it is the time, Your Grace, for us to hunt her with what we have."

     "How would you ever think we could catch this shadow? And completely kill her? Only Firmin—"

      "Yes," said Carson. "Only Firmin can make her phase to human, can lure her from the shadows. Can make her listen."

     "But he won't."

     "We no longer need him to cooperate, Your Grace. We simply need him as bait."

     "Because she loves him," Roxanne said.

     The duke nodded slowly. "Yes," he said. "That may just work. But how?"

     "We will have our men coated in black shadow, and take Firmin to the plains beyond Ferringale. Where we can see her and she can see us. Firmin. Our entire army shall wait in the trees behind Firmin. Behind and around the plain. Surrounding her. And then when she comes to him, we, with our weapons and armor, and any exposed skin, covered in black shadow, shall descend upon her. Blood may be lost. It surely will. We will not make it to her without having our armor penetrated. She can survive some of the stuff."

     "No," said Roxanne. "We have to shoot her first. With a blackened arrow."

     "And then she'll come to devour us. But we will be ready. She will survive a handful of black shadow. Maybe an arrow, if she gets the life of another. But not an army. An army covered with black shadow. There will be no escape."

     "It's time we use their love to our advantage," said Roxanne.