Hope

Chapter Twenty-One: Fear of the Dark

It was nighttime. Jing was in the wagon feeding Zack the mixture that would help to heal him and the others were all sitting around the fire eating jerky and drinking heated water. I was, as usual, sitting in the shadows a little further back, but I could still feel the heat of the fire from where I sat. Tornheart, I noticed, was watching me quietly as he chewed on his food. His brown eyes looked darker than normal and the set of his jaw suggested that he wasn't happy. I sighed and walked over to him. Better get it over with now.

"Okay, what's up with you?" I asked crossly, standing over him with my hands on my hip.

Tornheart looked up at me, quiet surprise on his face. "What do you mean?" he asked, not expecting this reaction from me.

"You're upset about something," I said. "You can tell me what it is. If it's something I did, then I'm sorry. But if it's something else, you need to spit it out. It looks like it's really bothering you."

My bluntness seemed to shake Tornheart back to his senses. He glanced furtively around the fire. He still wasn't quite used to the idea of being near so many people all the time. I knew that they weren't listening in because they were engaged in their own thoughts or conversations, but since he was nervous, I beckoned him to come with me into the shadows so we could talk more securely.

"Okay, spit it out," I repeated, watching him closely.

His eyes went down to a thin stick he was playing with. "I don't know. Something is bothering me. It's like the closer we get to the capital, the worse this bad feeling gets. It's like there's some sort of darkness at the edge of my mind, pressing down on me. There's something very evil where we're headed. And if it's not evil, then I don't know what is."

I thought about what he said. It was true that Tornheart was more sensitive than I was to 'evil' magic. If he said he sensed something, he was probably right. But why hadn't I felt it? I had my own inner darkness, I realized, so I wouldn't feel anything unusual. I was already struggling for my identity, trying to both keep my emotions behind closed doors and to keep myself from becoming emotionless like my father. My father... there was darkness in me that was awfully familiar.

"Shadeclaw," I whispered, my eyes wide. "It's Shadeclaw. It feels like him... but it's not possible! I watched him die!"

"I know it's not possible," Tornheart said quietly, still playing with his stick. "But it took awhile for his magic to leave the tribe. I'm not even sure if it has completely left yet. That is the one possibility I can think of."

I gaped at him. "But he never left the forest! We would've noticed if he had been gone that long!"

Tornheart gave me a long look. "I don't know about that, Leaf. Many things about Shadeclaw don't seem to be adding up. Remember when he made that odd comment about the rain?"

Yes, I did remember. And as I thought about it, I went back in time to that cloudy day when our prospects were much darker.

"Father?" I asked as I braided my hair back. "When are you going to name us?"

Shadeclaw looked over at me, startled out of whatever he had been dreaming about. His eyes were pure black, which didn't surprise me. He was using his power almost constantly these days, and keeping out of the sunlight while he did it. "Give you your adult name?" he asked, his voice sounding slightly odd. "Soon. All in good time, my warrior-daughter."

I shivered at the name on the inside. I was not his anything. He was merely my biological parent and that was the limit of our relationship. Well, emotion-wise anyway. He was still my leader, and my unofficial mentor. He had mentored me to Talonwing as soon as I was old enough, Talonwing being the most skilled fighter the tribe had to offer. It was an honor, but a dubious one. I knew that he was merely using me in some game he was having with another tribe's leader. Probably Dappleleaf. Everyone knows he despised the leader of Storm Tribe, for more reasons than one. Or perhaps he thought highly enough of me to pit me against more than one leader. Whatever it was, he didn't really care about me as a person, but I was content to be his favorite tool if it meant I stayed on his good side.