A Cast of Shadows: An Araneae Nation Story by Hailey Edwards Read Free Book Online Page A

foundation to base a relationship on. Neither was grief or commiseration.
    “Is that the way to the sandbar?” Brynmor called over my shoulder.
    I realized I had passed the well-worn path leading down an embankment to the water’s edge. “It’s less steep near those rocks.” I pointed. “That’s where I was hiding when the hunters came.”
    He gave me a doubtful look that I ignored as I led on, paying closer attention now.
    When the ground began sloping gently toward the sandbar, I said brightly, “Here we are.”
    He uttered a harsh grunt that said clearly you got lucky .
    I made a production of leaping onto the sand and leaving him behind.
    “The body was trapped near those rapids.” I squinted. “I can’t tell if it’s still there.”
    “I can only see so far at night.” Brynmor stopped with his shoulder pressed against mine. “It looks like we’re wading in from here. The banks are too steep to make following them practical.”
    “I agree.” I bent to remove my boots for the second time tonight with a groan. Blisters made the backs of my heels weep, and at this rate, I’d have open sores tomorrow. A dip in the river may soothe them now, but the skin would rub that much rawer until the next time I donned my boots.
    “You can wait here if you’d like,” Brynmor offered. He must have noticed my expression.
    Once my feet were bare, I set my boots on a nearby stone ledge, then propped my spears in a shady nook between rocks to conceal them. “You might need my help.”
    “True enough.” He tossed his boots to the ground. “You’re a stronger swimmer than I am.”
    His compliment surprised me. If he had been one of my brothers—or my father—he would have ordered me to wait for him here, then called for my help after realizing that he needed me.
    I stood and dusted my hands. “All right then.”
    We entered the river together. Silt squished between my toes in a comforting way that spoke of the familiar. I was more at home in the river than on the land, and in times like this I realized how blessed I had been to have a father who made his living selling treasures our river provided.
    It made me wonder for the span of a heartbeat if a male like Brynmor, used to living on land, could embrace life on the water.
    “I see something.” His hand closed over my upper arm.
    Ahead of us, caught in the whirl of the rapids, was a mass of dark fur. It was misshapen for a canis, and I soon learned why. A hunter myself, I wasn’t squeamish about what they had done to the body. I might have admired their precision in another time and place, but this killing was made personal by my involvement with Brynmor. The way he stroked the mass of matted fur reverently told me we had found the missing canis. My heart broke for the tiny pup who would soon realize that her parents were never coming back. At least she wasn’t facing a grim future alone. She had a pack.
    If Errol failed her, then Brynmor would ensure she was well-tended, that much I knew.
    My certainty made me wonder again—what was his connection to the pack? There had been no right time to ask him yet, but his loyalty to the Mimetidae made me think perhaps shame had driven Brynmor from Cathis. Perhaps the paladin had offered Brynmor a position as warden over the canis. It would enable him to earn a living and do his clan a service while giving him privacy to mend his heart. Perhaps he considered himself clanless because, without his wife or his son, he felt detached from his clansmen. Without family, he no longer felt he was a part of their clan.
    Or perhaps I was romanticizing a person content to live among canis, unfettered by society.
    It seemed I suffered insatiable curiosity where Brynmor was concerned. He had charmed me the first night we met and every moment we spent together reinforced that fascination. It was as if he had cast a net over me. What worried me most was how content I was to let him haul me in.

Chapter Five
    A slow ache worked