Chasing Shadows (31 page)

Will’s own mouth quirked. “What else?”

Shaking her head, her smile faded. “That sounds delicious, but I don’t think I’m quite up to eating before the sun rises. And I should be getting back,” she added regretfully, more than a little uneasy over leaving this small zone of comfort.

He looked reluctant as he nodded and turned toward the door, though he didn’t move from the spot. Cocking his head over his shoulder, Sarah caught the boyish shyness and excitement that she so rarely was allowed to see. “There’s something I would like to show you first.”

She worried her lower lip, contemplating, and then she gave an assenting bob of her head. Rubbing the back of his neck, Will clarified, “It’s outside.”

“Oh. I’m not sure I’m dressed for that.” Peeling the covers back, she pretended not to notice the spare blanket he had used, nor the indentation where his body had been.

Will averted his eyes as she adjusted her skirt to cover her legs. He went to the cedar chest and extracted a black cloak and an extra pair of boots, throwing some leather gloves on top of the stack. He held them out to her in offering. “They are a little big, I know, but we won’t be going far.”

Curious, Sarah donned the cloak and sat on the bed while she laced up the over-sized boots. She stood and took a few wobbly steps, knowing she must look like a lumbering zombie. Still feeling a little embarrassed over her tirade last night, despite his assurances, she grinned up at him in an attempt to smooth the tense atmosphere in the cabin. “You’ve got big feet, Taylor.”

He shrugged, though there was relieved humor in his indigo eyes. “They’ve served me well.”

“Scaling walls?” She was no longer teasing, just genuinely interested.

“Yes,” he answered honestly.

Curling her toes in the ample space, Sarah eyed him. “Because you got into my room rather easily.”

His lips tipped. “That was hardly the first time I’ve snuck into the castle, as you well know.”

Before she could get caught up in the easy banter she was rarely used to between them, she asked, “Didn’t you want to show me something?”

Nodding, Will led her from the house and around the back, trudging slowly through the snow to give her a cleared place to step. It was difficult to see his footsteps with the pines and gnarled forest trees preventing the early morning light from brightening the path.

Keeping her eyes focused on his footsteps, Sarah lifted her knees high as she clomped through the snow behind him, sometimes having to jump to reach the path his footsteps had cleared when the snow became too thick. Eyes focused on the next patch of compressed snow, she missed the fact that her companion had stopped and launched herself right into his back, nearly toppling them both.

Will regained his balance and spun around to right her. “Steady.” Face heating, she looked up at his amused expression.

“Why did you stop?” She looked around. There wasn’t anything there.

In answer, he pointed a finger toward the sky. Sarah followed the line and glanced up at the enormous beech tree, which was a huge mass of low, reaching branches and gnarled limbs stretching far overhead.

He turned to her, his face partially shrouded in the early dawn light. “How are you at climbing?”

She hesitated. “Not nearly as good as you. Is it up there—whatever you want to show me?”

“Do you think you will be able to climb in those boots?”

Hugging herself to stave off the morning chill, she shot a wary glance up the massive length of trunk and was reminded of all the trees she and Lilly had climbed together. Granted, those trees were much, much smaller, but it couldn’t be that different. Releasing a breath, she said, “I guess we’ll find out.”

Will helped her onto the first branch and then pointed out the knobs in the ancient trunk, showing her how to jam the toe of her boot in to give her a little leverage until the next available branch. It was slow going at first as Sarah tried to awkwardly get a foothold with her feet slipping around inside her boots as they navigated the tangled limbs. But Will stayed beside her and showed her how to lean against the branches to relieve some of the strain from her arm muscles. “You’ll tire quickly if you carry your weight all the way,” he warned.

Biting her lip in concentration, she watched his feet and mimicked his confident movements. Sometimes her glove would slip or a boot would become trapped in a jagged notch, but after a few minutes of gracelessly plugging along behind Will, she began to feel more confident and found herself enjoying the thrill of climbing so high.

When Will glanced over at her to see how she was fairing, she motioned him ahead. “You know where we’re going—you lead.”

With a nod, he took off, his movements becoming quicker and more precise as he ascended. Mesmerized by his lithe movements, Sarah paused to watch, sometimes losing sight of him as he ducked through the patches of fresh sunlight that snuck between the limbs. Her stomach constricted at the sight of him so in his element. This was where he belonged, in the forest where he experienced the kind of freedom on which he seemed to thrive. Suburban Oklahoma could never satiate that need for independence.

The thought surprised her. Though she hadn’t even been aware that she was considering it, after seeing him like this, Sarah knew she could never ask him to give up this kind of freedom and leave Serimone behind. It wouldn’t be fair to him.

But despite the ache building in her chest, she felt a soft, reluctant smile tug at the corner of her mouth as she watched him swing from branch to branch. The difference between this carefree Tarzan and the reserved Will to whom she had first been introduced was amazing. Her smile spread: The man was in love with this land.

Will chose that moment to glance down at her, as if just now realizing how far ahead he had climbed, and caught her smile. His mouth curved in a knowing way, and he began to descend with strides a tad more boastful than before.

Caught staring, Sarah tried to look nonchalant, resting her back against the branch behind her like she had been taking a break and just
happened
to look up at that moment.

He slipped gracefully down and landed on the limb opposite. “I thought you were behind me,” he commented, grinning coyly. He gripped the branch above both their heads with one hand, lazily swinging his body toward her and away, coming close enough that Sarah could touch him with little effort.

Folding her arms across her chest, she pretended to ignore his playfulness and turned her eyes to the spot where he had been. “I saw a squirrel and thought it might give you rabies.” She shrugged, feigning disinterest, though he wasn’t so easily fooled.

Will’s low chuckle brought her head around. He used his momentum to swing himself onto the limb closest to her, sending a shower of white into the air. He ducked to grip the branch above her head, boxing her in as he leaned forward. Though he didn’t appear to realize how close he was, Sarah was
very
aware of his nearness and sucked in a breath. His eyes were brighter and more alive than she had ever seen them as they searched her face, his chest rising and falling from his climb. “Rabies?” he asked, confused humor lacing his question.

“It’s—” She swallowed, her eyes inadvertently drawn to the rapid pulse just below his ruddy cheeks. “You know what—never mind.”

He didn’t seem to be aware that the carefree grin still graced his lips. Pulling back, Will ducked under the branch again. “It isn’t far,” he said. When she hesitated, he reached a hand out to her, puffs of air escaping his lips in little white clouds that faded in the air between them. “I’ll stay with you.”

Gnawing on her lower lip, Sarah took his hand and they began to climb together, side by side.

~Chapter 28~

When Sarah’s weary muscles felt ready to give, her guide stopped. Leaning against the branch behind her, she tried to steady her breathing.

Brushing the powdery snow from the massive, waist-high branch, Will hoisted himself up and got situated before offering her a hand. The perch came up to her chin, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to manage it gracefully. Gripping his hand, she launched herself upward and landed on her stomach with an
oof.
Auburn hair flew over the width of the limb, and she tossed her head back in time to catch his expression of amused surprise before he wiped it from his face. “You were supposed to wait for me.” He used his hold to help her into a sitting position.

Sarah grimaced sheepishly, resisting the urge to rub her bruised abdomen. “I get that now.”

He did a fair job of hiding his grin as he shuffled towards the middle of their perch. “Come on.”

Shooting a nervous glance at the itty-bitty patch of visible ground far below, she slowly pushed herself onto her knees and followed him. “Can this thing hold the both of us? I mean, will it snap and send us plummeting to an unfortunate death?” Her sarcasm didn’t mask her genuine trepidation.

Having reached his destination on the outermost part of the tree, Will reclined against the knotted limb behind him. “I suppose we’ll find out,” he said, using her words against her with a teasing smile.

She ignored his remark and crawled determinedly down the length of the branch, biting back her fear as she entered a narrow clearing where the pines and gnarled limbs disappeared on all sides.

Sarah sucked in a breath, understanding why he had wanted to show this to her. “Wow,” she breathed plopping down beside him, her anxiety melting away in place of awe. Her shoulder brushed his as she leaned back to survey the view, reassured by the wall of tangled branches at her back. “This is . . .”

“Incredible, isn’t it?” She looked up at him and nodded, eliciting a soft smile from him with her look of amazement.

Sarah turned her gaze back to the sight before them, blinking against the light. They were perched in one of the tallest trees in all of Serimone, it seemed, and they had a perfect view of the rising sun from their vantage point. It cast a bright orange glow through the trees, and golden light reflected off the high stone towers of the castle. From this distance, it didn’t look so dark and haunting, and she could almost pretend in the early morning glow that it wasn’t a prison at all but a fairytale castle. . . . Almost.

No matter where she drew her gaze, the whole land looked bright and alive—sunlight was reflected wherever she looked, bouncing off the snow below and making the ground look like it had been sprinkled with glitter, sparkling like a carpet of diamonds strewn about the forest floor.

“The world looks better from up here, doesn’t it?” Will commented softly, breaking into her intense fascination with the view. “Safer.”

She nodded mutely, gently kicking her feet back and forth in the vast expanse before them. “Is this your thinking place, then?”

“In a way.”

They lapsed into silence again, and Sarah found herself studying him. He looked so at peace, the lines of his face softening in the early morning light. Strangely moved by the sight, she turned her gaze away, back to the rising sun, and was suddenly struck by the realization that yesterday had been Edith’s last sunrise.

Her shoulders sank as reality pressed in. Rubbing her hands together in her lap, she asked in a small voice, “Does it ever get easier?”

He angled his head toward her, his eyes filled with compassion. “In some ways. After a time, you don’t dwell on it every moment, don’t feel as though you’re suffocating with grief. But then one day you realize you have reached the night and haven’t wanted to give up.” He inhaled a wavering breath. “Then you fight guilt, because it seems that you should dwell on the life that once was. But what you’re really holding onto is what will never be.”

Sarah sniffed back unwelcome tears at his soft words. If anyone had a reason to mourn, it was he. “She was a good friend to me, but I knew her so little that I don’t feel I have any right to mourn.” She groaned at her selfishness and pain, leaning forward to bury her face in her hands—she could still feel Edith’s blood spilling through her fingertips.

Disgusted at the memory and her inability to do anything, her head rolled from side to side in her hands. “I didn’t even know her family was dead, and it’s all my fault that she is, too. I couldn’t stop the blood.”

A hand touched her shoulder. “Look at me,” he commanded softly.

Too ashamed to meet his eyes, she muttered disgruntled “What?” through her fingers. He gently peeled her hands from her face and pulled them toward him. Sarah looked up at him reluctantly and released a shuddering breath as she tried to keep from crying again; he had dealt with enough of her emotions for one lifetime.

“What you experienced was traumatic—give yourself time to heal,” he said. “And don’t blame yourself for something that was out of your hands. We can’t go back and change the past, and it will only eat at your soul to dwell on what might have been.”

She sighed. How right he was. Even with the ability to travel through time, she couldn’t go back and save Edith. “Is that why you come up here?” she asked. “To remind yourself that life goes on—the sun will still rise?”

He nodded and released her, leaning back again. “After my parents, I used to sneak out of my uncle’s house before dawn and come here. At first it was to remind myself of them and relive the pain of my loss. But then over time, this view became a symbol of . . . healing, I suppose. That was the reason why I built my home here—so that I could come to this sanctuary whenever I needed to clear my head.

“Sometimes” he went on thoughtfully, “it feels as though your healing and happiness betray their memory, and you have to fight remorse. But however cruel or tragic it might seem for life to move on, it’s the natural order of things and the way my parents would want it to be. And whenever I come up here”—he inhaled deeply, seeming to savor the crisp morning air—“it’s as though my soul is being reawakened. I feel alive and new, like the world is full of possibilities.” He looked suddenly embarrassed. "But that sounds nonsensical.”

“Who would you be?” Sarah asked suddenly, reclining beside him. Feeling the unexplainable need to be close to someone, she impulsively scooted nearer, attempting subtlety until she bumped her shoulder into his arm. But he didn’t seem to mind when he glanced down—in fact, she thought he might have smiled a little.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean that if you had the chance to do it all over, be anybody in the world from that sunrise”—she pointed out to the panoramic view before them, then hiked her thumb in the opposite direction—“to that sunset, who would you be for a day?”

He let his head fall back against the raised branch and stared up at the brightening sky through the limbs above them. “My father,” Will answered without hesitation.

She blinked, moved by his answer. “Really? I bet you’re a lot like him.”

Sitting up abruptly, he angled his body to face her. His eyes were filled with childlike excitement. “We were alike, in a way. We both
craved
adventure
.
My father used to tell me of his grand escapades when he was my age. He fought bandits and once stole a pirate ship in the dead of night, fending off the entire crew with a single sword and knife.” He did a few harmless parries and jabs in the air, reenacting the legendary fight for her.

Sarah giggled at his antics, knowing he was probably putting on a bit of a show to lift her spirits. He held up one finger. “He even discovered where that cad who captained the ship had buried over a decade’s worth of loot.”

Her eyes bulged. “He uncovered buried treasure?”

“Yes, but he gave it to the people of the island on which he found it, saying that this stolen treasure had no owner and so should belong to them.”

Sarah leaned back, wondering how much of these stories had been embellished for his son’s entertainment. But then again, maybe they were all true. Like father, like son.

She smiled at both Will’s and his father’s adventurous spirits. Sitting up, she asked, “But, wait, did your dad stop seeking out adventure? What happened?”

She didn’t understand the slow grin that started over Wills mouth. “When he was about my age, Father discovered a posting for a rather handsome reward. It seemed that some precious cargo had been taken by a band of rogue Muslims traveling from the Holy Land. Treasure-hunter that my father was, he went in search of them on horseback. He found their caravan up on a hillside, quickly trying to make a getaway with their prize.”

“Did he catch them?”

Will grinned proudly but didn’t spoil the ending. “My father was fast. He rode up beside the caravan, unseated the driver, and then threw himself inside of the careening transport as it flew across the valley, managing to disarm the men inside and extricate them from the caravan in seconds. Then he steered the horses a safe distance away before stopping to peek at the cargo.”

She waited for him to finish the story, which sounded as though he had it memorized by heart. His father’s tale, told on countless nights, had clearly imprinted on his boy’s memory. “Well, what was it?” she asked impatiently when he remained silent.

His animated story-telling manner melted away, and Will stared thoughtfully at the tree bark under his hand. He shifted so that his back touched the short wall of branches behind them. “They had taken my mother to sell her in their country. She had thought it was all over until my father came riding up on his horse.” He gave Sarah a lopsided grin. “She said she thought Father was some beautiful, pale-skinned savage with dark hair flowing in the wind come to save her.” He chuckled at the description only a girl could appreciate.

Sarah smiled along with him. “And were they married after that?”

“Yes. Father refused the reward money her parents offered and asked for her hand instead. Then he settled down and built the shop I now own.” A smile of remembrance graced his mouth. “Every night that he regaled me with the tale, Father ended by saying that he gave up his nomadic wandering the day he discover my mother. ‘My restlessness drove me to seek out adventure and the treasures therein,” Will intoned in a deep voice, mimicking his father’s tone. He hesitated, and his gaze on her face warmed, voice softening as he recited the words.

“’But when I found her, I knew that my restless spirit could not be satiated by the fleeting excitement I’d pursued on my voyages. My goal, I realized, had always been to find something to give my soul rest: She was the treasure I’d sought all along, and I needn’t search any further.’”

Sarah smiled a little wistfully, though her insides had warmed at the sincerity in his voice, as if he weren’t simply reciting his father’s words but meant them for
her
. “That’s all so romantic. Your father sounds like an amazing man.”

“He was.” Will leaned in and stretched his arm out toward the golden horizon, pointing off to the right of the castle. “Do you see that stream and how the rough portion seems to disappear?”

Squinting, Sarah pretended not to feel how close he was and tried to focus on the line of his finger. “Is that a waterfall?” she asked after a moment of searching.

He nodded, watching her face while she looked for it. “Glenborough Falls. The stream goes underground for several miles north.
And
,
”
he added, pointing off in that direction, “perfectly opposite the falls, if you look hard enough, you’ll see the stream reemerge in the distance and then vanish between those hills. Directly past that point, just over the rise, there is a little village in the valley behind. Do you see it?”

Her eyes were still scanning for the correct hill, but then she spotted a little grouping of tiny specs in a small valley, barely discernible from this distance. “What is that place?” she asked, meeting his gaze.

Will smiled. “It’s Locksley Village, where I grew up. Just beyond is Sherwood Forest, which works as a barrier between Locksley and Ridlan, though . . .”

Her mind was already wandering.
It can’t be—there’s no way. It’s impossible.
But what were the odds? It was the right era for the legend, and he had lived in a village with the same name. She had even referred to him as Robin Hood when she first discovered the Shadow. Could they really be one in the same?  

But that could only mean Karen’s theory that Serimone was somehow created by the portal was seriously flawed. She had gone into great detail about the consequences of changing the past, especially the outcome of significant events and the course of prominent figures. If this was, indeed, the past, then they could really be muddling things up right now.

At the idea that her presence was completely unwelcome in this time, Sarah’s mind took off trying to recreate events here without her presence: She would never have been able to help Karen, nor met the Jones family, and she would never have met Will. But if she hadn’t been here, Edith might still be alive.

Sarah selfishly didn’t know what she would do differently if given the chance. But she knew what the right thing to do was after they proved Cadius’ guilt: She would walk away and try not to look back. It would be best for Will if she didn’t meddle with history, and she knew that, someday, it would be best for her too.