One Dark Window (The Shepherd King, #1)

by Rachel Gillig

“It is not they who bring the reckoning, Ravyn. It is you. It is us.”

YOU TELL HIM SIS

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.

MY HEART

“There she is,” it called, too loud, too bubbly. “With the Captain, like I told you.”

Where else would she be?

He was looking at my mother’s dress. His shoulders slumped a moment. The muscles in his jaw flexed, as if he were forcing all his teeth together. And his eyes, brilliant blue, had gone glassy. At last, his gaze met mine. “Hello, Elspeth,” he said. “You look like your mother in that dress.”

Oh I can’t 🥺😭🤧

“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.”

🥹🥹🥹

I let out a breath, and Ravyn reached for me. But no sooner had his fingers touched mine than the Captain recoiled, his gaze frozen on my hands. When I looked down, my hands were curled like claws. My fingers, long and pale, were covered in blood.

Oh boy

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.”

Oh baby 😭

Emory held my gaze. “You’re very beautiful,” he mused. “Your eyes are so dark—so infinite.” He paused. “Like a maiden in a storybook. As if the Shepherd King had penned you himself.”

Oh. Oh… OH HE DID DIDN’T HE?!

Your name is never given in The Old Book, I whispered, my voice combing the darkness. What is it—your real name? He snapped at me, vicious. My name is ash, he hissed, lost to the winds.

🤨🧐 suspicious

I coughed into my wine. “I practically begged you to go into Spindle House with me and find the Well!” Elm waved a hand in my face. “I didn’t say it was a bad idea, only that it wasn’t the right moment.” He wrinkled his nose. “And I wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction of having a semi-intelligent idea, Spindle.” I wanted to reach over and wring his long Rowan neck.

You and me both sis

The Nightmare slithered out of the darkness, his voice caressing my ear. You needn’t be afraid. His voice was slick with oil. Magic comes for us all. Go away! I cried. You cannot undo what already begins. He paused, his voice serpentine as it flickered past my ears. You cannot erase the salt from the din. But if you won’t let me out… you must let him in.

Tell Ravyn!!!

He looked stupidly handsome, smug to his boots. I hid behind my teacup. “Morning.” Next to him, Elm’s face twisted in a grimace. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” Ravyn took a bite of bread and leaned back in his chair. “What do you mean?” “You’re smiling.” Elm looked over the table. “Does no one else find that incredibly unnerving?”

LMAO 😂💀

I leaned into him. “I wanted to let you rest.” He kissed me, his fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck. “I don’t want rest, Elspeth,” he murmured into my lips. “I want you.”

GAH I CAN’T 😭😍

hitching. “He hunches, not animal, not man, but something between. He stands in the room he built for the Spirit of the Wood, perched upon a tall, dark stone.” Emory’s face twisted, his features contorted in fear. “He whispers something.”

“There once was a girl,” he said, “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…” He did not have to say the rest. I knew it by heart. “The girl, the King…” I breathed. The Nightmare’s voice burned through my mind. And the monster they became.

Oh so she was born to absorb the Shepherd king 👀🤨

We were not the same, my half sisters and I. Life had sheltered them, like pearls kept in a velvet pouch. And I—I was not made of pearls. I was made of salt.

THE WELL Be wary the blue, Be wary the stone. Be wary of shadows the water hath shown. Your enemies wait. The wolves stalk the gate. Be wary of shadows the water hath shown.

“Fine. Spindle. You’re with me.” I blinked. “You can’t be serious.” “Oh, but I am.” Ravyn’s voice was low. “She should come with me.” “Trees, Ravyn, you’ll survive a moment without her.” To his cousin’s glare, Elm crossed his arms. “Unless, of course, your priorities lie somewhere beyond finding the Well Card.”

Oh my god I love Elm 😂😂😂

All but for her hazel eyes, which, even before the Maiden Card, had shone with their own special light, as if lit from within. Only now they were clouded. Unfocused. Lost.

Uh oh that’s not good

I drank from my cup and winced, the wine more bitter than I’d expected.

Oh don’t drink strange drinks from People you don’t trust!!

“Elm, what—” “Shut up.” He searched my cousin’s face. “Miss Hawthorn,” he said, his voice unusually soft. “Ione.” She did not respond, did not move his hand away, did not blink, her eyes just as unfocused as before. Something was wrong. I gripped the table. “What’s going on?” “Look at her eyes,” Elm murmured. “Someone’s used a Scythe on her.”

His brother probably

“Tell me what you’ve done, Hawthorn.” She blinked. When she spoke, her voice sounded strangled. “Only what he bade me,” she said. I went cold. That’s when I realized that there were five of us seated at the table. Five of us. And six goblets.

Yup definitely Hauth

Then, mouth twisted in a cruel smile, cloaked in Scythe red and the turquoise light of a Chalice Card, Hauth Rowan took his seat at the end of the table. He cast his gaze across the table and barked a laugh.

Oh piss off asshole

No. My fingers shook. He wouldn’t. But it was written all over the High Prince’s face, a smug, triumphant smile sewn across his lips as he slid the Chalice Card onto the table for us to see. “Only a few moments now,” he said, his eyes turning to Ravyn. “Who wants to tell the truth first?”

Someone punch him again PLEASE

THE CHALICE Be wary the sea, Be wary the cup. Be wary the food and the wine that you sup. Your stomach may sour— Your tongue may twist dour. Be wary the food and the wine that you sup.

“Are you still pretending?” I said, reveling in his gaze. Ravyn gave a surprised laugh and, in front of everyone, leaned in and kissed me. “I never was,” he whispered into my lips.

I told you NO, Ravyn, I said. Get out. Ravyn stirred, confusion and hurt touching the corners of his face. I’m sorry, he said, I only wanted to— The Nightmare lunged out of the darkness like a beast of prey. You heard her, he said, swiping his claws, a vicious snarl ripping up his throat. Get out, Ravyn Yew. GET. OUT. Ravyn fell with full force out of his seat, the entire table shaking in his wake.

OH BOY 😩🤚🏼

THE NIGHTMARE Be wary the dark, Be wary the fright. Be wary the voice that comes in the night. It twists and it calls, Through shadowy halls. Be wary the voice that comes in the night.

Are you going to let him suffer like this? the Nightmare whispered. I shut my eyes tighter. What will he think of me? Does it matter? Of course it matters. He matters. So don’t lie to him.

🥺😭

“I touched my uncle’s Nightmare Card,” I said. I glanced at Elm. “It’s my ability—my magic. The moment a Providence Card touches my skin, I absorb whatever it was the Shepherd King paid to create it.”

“But if he bartered his soul,” Elm whispered, his eyes lowering to Ravyn’s Nightmare Card, “and you absorbed it, then the voice in your head…” The Nightmare’s laughter filled my mind, making Ravyn flinch. I looked up, the truth finally torn from me, piece by piece. “He’s the Shepherd King.”

ROLL CREDITS

The Nightmare’s claws clacked against the dark floor of my mind as he paced, restless. When Rowan stole my life, my soul remained, sealed in the Nightmare Card. I waited hundreds of years, consumed by fury and salt. His voice clung to me, as if made of wax. Elspeth pulled me from the Card, the darkness. So I protected her from a world that would see her killed. I spoke to her from The Old Book. She was already good, clever. But I taught her to be wary. I gave her my gifts—my strength. But nothing comes for free, Ravyn Yew. Especially not magic.

“Be safe,” I whispered to the wind as Ravyn Yew disappeared beyond the gate. Had I known they’d be the last words I’d say to him aloud, I might have chosen them differently.

WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN

Do you trust me, Elspeth? I blinked through the blur of tears. Do I have a choice? My darling, you’ve always had a choice.

I closed my eyes, a final whisper escaping my lips. The story—our story. The Nightmare’s and mine. “There once was a girl,” I said, “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 last thing I heard before I was buried in darkness was the Nightmare’s silky laugh, wicked and absolute. The girl, the King… and the monster they became.

THE TWIN ALDERS Be wary the green, Be wary the trees. Be wary the song of the wood on your sleeves. You’ll step off the path— To blessing and wrath. Be wary the song of the wood on your sleeves.

“The Twin Alders is hidden in a place with no time. A place of great sorrow and bloodshed and crime. Betwixt ancient trees, where the mist cuts bone-deep, the last Card remains, waiting, asleep. The wood knows no road—no path through the snare. Only I can find the Twin Alders… “For it was I who left it there.”

Holy shit