One Dark Window (The Shepherd King, #1)

by Rachel Gillig

To the quiet girls with stories in their heads. To their dreams—and their nightmares.

Still, it was the first time I stopped fearing the Nightmare—the voice in my head, the creature with strange yellow eyes and an eerie, smooth voice. Eleven years later, and I don’t fear him at all. Even if I should.

Her emotions were mapped on her face while mine hid behind carefully practiced composure.

Even the trees seemed to sway in accordance with her step. Everyone loved her. And she loved them back. Even to her own detriment.

I felt my expression go blank. It was a trick I had spent years perfecting in the looking glass—molding my face like clay until it bore the vague, demure look of someone who had nothing to hide.

That’s how the best lies are told—with just enough truth to be convincing.

But stronger than the tug at the corner of my lips was a dull, aged pain, knotted deep in my chest, reminding me of the truth, ever present, between us.

You’d have me stay after that? I bit back. Yes. Because running, dear one, is exactly what she wants from you. It’s easier this way—to avoid them. I heaved a breath. To run. It’s in my nature.

"To run. It's in my nature" OOF

My magic moves, he said. My magic bites. My magic soothes. My magic frights. You are young and not so bold. I am unflinching—five hundred years old.

Though payment was dear, I paid what it cost. With blood and with bones and parts of me lost.

the quotes in this book had me tearing up.... like this is crazy

I pressed my back into my chair and watched him, chilled by the thought that I knew far less about the man at the head of the table than I thought.

“Know that you are loved, and that you always have a place here, with me. But do not let a fever eleven years past keep you from living your life, Elspeth.

“There once was a girl,” he murmured, “clever and good, who tarried in shadow in the depths of the wood. There also was a King—a shepherd by his crook, who reigned over magic and wrote the old book. The two were together, so the two were the same: “The girl, the King… and the monster they became.”

The Shepherd King had made seventy-eight Providence Cards in descending order. There were twelve Black Horses, held exclusively by the King’s elite guard—the Destriers. Eleven Golden Eggs. Ten Prophets. Nine White Eagles. Eight Maidens. Seven Chalices. Six Wells. Five Iron Gates. Four Scythes. Three Mirrors. Two Nightmares. And one Twin Alders.

The Hawthorn tree carries few seeds. Its branches are weary, it’s lost all its leaves. Be wary the man who bargains and thieves. He’ll offer your soul to get what he needs.

My laughter was hollow. “Better distrustful than delusional.”

“Having hope does not make me delusional, Elspeth,” she said.

I shook my head, vehement. “Can’t you understand? You are perfect, Ione. Just as you are. The gap in your teeth—your voice, too loud in the mornings—the lines next to your eyes when you smile. The Maiden will steal those things from you.”

“Do you love me, Elspeth?” she said. Something in my chest snapped. “More than anything.” She took a rattling breath, then another. Then, slowly, as if bolstered by an invisible force, Ione’s gaze grew stronger, harder. Still, her voice shook. “Then let me make my own choices.”

Ravyn raised his dark brows. “Yours isn’t a face I’d soon forget, Miss Spindle.”

And I couldn’t trust a man I could not predict.

YEAHHHHHH

The Captain of the Destriers is dark and severe. Watching from yew trees, his gray eyes are clear. His wingspan is broad and his beak is quite sharp. Hide quick or he’ll find you… and rip out your heart.

We’d only been apart an hour. Still, I couldn’t help but feel every time I saw Ravyn Yew, I was looking at a different man.

THE SCYTHE Be wary the red, Be wary the blade. Be wary the pain, for a price will be paid. Command what you can, Death waits for no man. Be wary the pain, for a price will be paid.

I know what I know. My secrets are deep. But long have I kept them, and long will they keep.

Was it the lie that bothered him, pretending to court me? Or was it me he could not stand?

Neither of us spoke, a day apart enough time to make strangers out of us once more.

god.

“The last room left standing.” The stone chamber—enveloped by moss and vines—stood tall at the edge of the mist. How strange it looked, alone in the ruins, unmarked but for one dark window situated on its southernmost wall.

“Call me Elspeth,” I said. “We’re about to commit treason together, after all.”

I could not see Ravyn, but I felt him next to me.

He came for the girl… And got the monster instead.

“Of all the things I pretend at,” he said, his thumb drawing small, gentle circles along my waist, “courting you has proven the easiest.”

My aunt had told me once that my strange charcoal eyes were special, beautiful even—a dark window to the soul beneath. But as I glanced back into the looking glass, the reflection of my black eyes flickering to that bright, eerie yellow, I had to wonder… whose soul was it? The Nightmare’s? Or mine?

When her gaze landed on Hauth, I thought I caught a glimpse of something in her narrowed hazel eyes—something more than coldness. Something that looked a great deal like hatred. But a moment later, it was gone,

“Is this you pretending, Elspeth?” he said, the tip of his nose grazing mine. “Because if it is…” His breath stirred my eyelashes. “You’re very good at it.”

But it felt incomplete, my collection yet whole. And so, for the Nightmare, I bartered my soul. I put a hand to my mouth, fingers shaking. My voice came out hollow. “But that would mean I absorbed your soul when I touched the Nightmare Card. Which makes you… the Shepherd King.” A growl, a sneer—oil, bile. His voice called, louder than it had ever been, as if he was closer. Stronger. Finally, my darling Elspeth, we understand one another.

Practice restraint, and know it by touch. Use Cards when they’re needed, and never too much.

Excess is grievous, be knave, maid, or crown. Too much of water, how easy we drown.

That’s why I’m seeing your memories. I may not be getting weaker like Emory, but I’m… fading. A lump rose in my throat. That’s my degeneration, isn’t it?

It’s my payment, I said, filled with biting clarity. Every time I ask for your help, you grow stronger. And I’m—I’m losing control. I told you, child, he said, nothing is free. Nothing is safe. Magic always comes at a cost.

Remember that, when you finally have the courage to admit it. In the end, I took nothing you had not already given me.

i sat in silence staring at a wall after reading this line

Tell them. Tell them the truth. When your children ask, do not lie—do not hide the risk of magic. Children are strongest when their eyes are clear. Only then can they make their own choices. Only then are they truly free. Tell them. Tell them the truth.

"Children are the strongest when their eyes are clear. Only then can they make their own choices." oof

Behind my eyes, the Nightmare’s voice was coy. You’re running out of time, dear one, he said, slithering past my ears. Tell him how you feel. If you don’t say it aloud, can it ever be real?

I had not fit into anyone’s arms like that since childhood. And even then, no one had ever held me so tightly—as if they needed me in their arms as much as I needed to be held. As if nothing else mattered but to hold one another. As if we had all the time in the world.

Elm turned to me, his green eyes narrowing. “It’s different for Ravyn,” he said. “He’s not skeptical of your infection, your magic. When he looks at you, he feels he knows you—wants to help you. You make him remember why he’s done everything he’s done, and why he must continue on doing it.”

What’s yours is mine when the shadows draw near. You asked for my help—and now I am here. With your eyes I do see, with your ears I do hear. There’s no going back—this is payment, my dear.

Be wary the red, be wary the blade. Be wary the pain, for a price will be paid. Command what you can, death waits for no man. Be wary the pain, for a price will be paid.

What did you do? I cried into the darkness. He retracted his claws, his voice slow, idle. We did it together. Just as we always do. I didn’t want that! You asked for my help. And I delivered it.

Ravyn waited. “What of the yellow that flickers through your eyes?” he asked. “I can’t tell you,” I said, more forceful than before. “You won’t want anything to do with me if I do.” Ravyn exhaled. “Then your estimation of me is lower than I imagined.”

“You could have died, Emory. How could you be so careless?” “I’m already dying,” Emory bit back. “At least this way, it’s on my terms.”