A/N: Finally, here is the last main chapter of The Shadowlands. :) Up next, the epilogue!

Part Seven

Jarred awoke, close to dawn, to find himself in the arms of his wife. A good place to be, he thought with no little relief. He could not for the life of him recall all that had happened the night before—it was a blur of grief, guilt, and tears. So many tears, for both himself and Anna, and Jasmine. Especially Jasmine. Nothing would alleviate the pain he felt when he thought of her, and their torn family.

Despite this, he could only feel a great relief and contentment in his heart in knowing that he awoke in Anna's arms. With her hands resting gently against his chest, and his head lying just below her bosom, he could be reassured that he was not alone in the world. They both yet lived, and even if they were separated from their daughter, they still had each other.

He felt it as she stirred unwittingly in her sleep. Then she tensed, and he knew that she was awake. Without thinking, he reached his hand back to touch her windswept hair, and revelled in the tangled feel of it. Beautiful… He had always loved her hair. Almost as much as the strange green colour of her eyes, the very colour of their own daughter's irises. She did not object to his caress, but leaned forward, sighing softly.

She felt so fragile, as if a single breeze would blow her away. Her thinness alarmed him—he could feel the bones in her body, as if there were no flesh cushioning them, and see the narrow contour of her face which was leaner than he had ever recalled it. Of course, the fever had sapped the flesh from her bones, during those torturous five days; it was no surprise that she was gaunt and hollow-faced. But still, he worried. She would plainly be weak with it, for a time—but for how long? Would she be able to endure the remainder of the march to the Shadowlands, battered as she was by the illness? Did he even want her to?

Kaldi had thought it better to die than be taken to the Shadowlands. Jenara had thought the same; indeed, she had even encouraged him to let Anna die. But he could not do it. However much he pondered the idea, the thought of being alone was too much to bear. He had already lost his daughter—he could not stand to lose his wife as well. The mere thought of it was like a knife into his heart.

Had he done wrong, in not letting Anna die from fever? For the life of him, he could not say. The only thing he knew was that he could not live without her.

He felt her hands caress the lines of his face, fingers brushing gently over the bruises. He could not help but wince—they were still sore, despite being over five days old.

He felt Anna pause, her fingers resting lightly on his cheeks. She did not speak, but he saw the query in her eyes, and the concern. How bad had it been? How much had they hurt him? He could have lied, and told her that it was nothing, but it would not have been fair to her. They were husband and wife; there should be complete honesty between them. And yet, he could not tell her the full truth—that he did not think his dreams would ever be free of the blood, the pain, and the terrible expression on Jenara's face which had reminded him so much of Jasmine, causing him to charge into a final reckless act of defiance. He did not think he could speak of the fighting man's death, so quick but brutal in its delivery. He and Jenara had not been killed—that had to be enough.

'It was—painful,' he managed to say, swallowing hard. 'But do not worry, dear heart. I am alright.'

For a long moment Anna regarded him silently, with assessing eyes that bore deep into his marrow. She could guess, he knew, what he refused to tell her—she had always been able to.

He felt his eyes close of their own accord, felt a sigh shudder through him as gentle but strong fingers brushed against his cheek. Anna… He wanted to speak, to tell her so much, but his throat was as tight as if it were manacled. He could not bring himself to speak. Instead, he found his body sagging against hers. His wife's arms held him, cradling him, drawing him close, heedless of the dried blood stuck to his clothes and skin.

'You do not want to know what they did,' he said hoarsely. 'Truly, Anna.'

'But I do want to know,' she said. 'Always. It does not matter if it is bloody and brutal and horrifying. I want to know.'

She looked at him with her love and her determination, and he desperately wished he could tell her all. It would be simpler, and would certainly lessen the burdens he felt pushed down upon him now. But he could not. He could not bear to hurt Anna with the extent of his own pain.

'I am alive, Anna,' he said gently. 'We both are. That is all that matters. Please, leave it be.'

Anna swallowed hard. In her eyes, he saw the turmoil, the fear, and the sadness that was running through her mind like wildfire. But still she slowly nodded.

'I do love you, Jarred,' she said quietly, looking away. 'You know that.'

'I do know. Truly. But I cannot speak of this, even to you.'

'I know.' Anna turned to him again, and it hurt to see the tears in her eyes. He had put them there. 'I will always be there for you, Jarred, no matter what happens. You know that.'

He could have argued with her, could have told her that all of her promises would not matter in the end; in any case, in any reality, they would die a horrible death, one after the other. They were no longer in charge of their own lives, let alone their fate, and it would be foolish to pretend to believe otherwise. The Shadow Lord owned, or would own, them now, and nothing either of them said or did would erase that terrifying reality. He could have said many things, all of which he knew Anna would vehemently argue against. Instead, he closed his eyes and nodded, and felt Anna gently stroke his hair with trembling fingers. And then he felt her hand reach down to grasp his own as if for dear life.

They held hands, and gazed up at the lightening sky together.

oOo

For all of that day, they lay together, looking up at the sky, as Jarred told her all that had transpired during her illness. There had been many deaths—five in total, mainly children and older people—but this was no surprise to Anna. The fever had spread like wildfire among the captives, and it killed quickly. The five victims had no chance against it.

She was saddened to hear that Kaldi was numbered among the casualties. The older woman had been almost like a friend to her, and she knew that she would feel her absence greatly. It had been peaceful, Jarred told her quietly. There was little pain, and it seemed as if the woman was accepting, almost relieved, that she would not be entering the Shadowlands with the rest of the march. There was turmoil in Jarred's eyes when he spoke of it, and regret as well, she thought, though he quickly veiled it.

Gently she touched his cheek, knowing with all her heart and soul what he was thinking. 'I would not want to die now, and leave you to go on alone. I could not stand it.'

He closed his eyes, and nodded, silently accepting her words of comfort. Her heart ached at the sight of it. As it had been the night before, she desperately wanted to ease his pain, but did not know how.

'And Jenara?' she asked quickly. 'She is alright?'

'No. Kaldi's death has hit her hard. I am not sure she will recover from it.' There was regret in his eyes, Anna saw, and sorrow. Despite himself, it seemed that he had grown to like the girl, in his own way, and Kaldi as well.

'She will, Jarred. She is like you, like Jasmine. And she is a Jalis. She will move on, and survive, whether she wants to or not.'

'Truly?'

'I do believe so,' Anna said, smiling weakly up at him. 'I do not want to think otherwise.'

'Nor do I,' he assured her. 'But I do think that there is somewhat which even the strongest person cannot overcome. Perhaps Jenara has reached that point.'

Surely not, she thought. Jenara was young and strong; she had her entire life ahead of her still. The idea of her broken and without hope was unthinkable.

'I cannot think so,' she said in a low voice. 'As I cannot think of Jasmine dead in the Forests, I cannot think of Jenara broken and in despair. She is so full of life, and fierce… like Jasmine could be. I cannot imagine her like… like you say.' She bit her lip, and looked away. The truth was that she could not bear the thought of such a thing happening to Jasmine. Jenara reminded her so much of what Jasmine could be like at that age… fierce, determined, defiant. Wilful. Brimming with life. To think of Jasmine suffering and breaking in First Wood was torture to her, even more so than the thought of her imminent slavery in the Shadowlands. Who knew what could happen in a forest filled with monsters, a forest which had haunted her dreams since her girlhood? She suppressed a shudder at the various possibilities, and shook her head. 'No,' she repeated. 'I cannot think so. It would be unthinkable.'

For a moment, she thought she saw Jarred's eyes flicker ever so slightly. With pain, or fear, or a combination of both? She could not say for certain.

'I agree,' he said softly. 'It would be unthinkable.'

'Yes.' She let her fingers trail over Jarred's cheek, trying to smile. 'At…at least Jasmine is not here. Not… with us.' She suppressed a tremor at the agony of the idea. The thought of Jasmine being subjected to this was utterly horrifying. Against her head she felt Jarred's breath shudder and knew he felt the same.

'Yes,' Jarred said hoarsely. 'There is that.'

She watched with muted satisfaction as he closed his eyes, sighing, his body leaning into her touch. Even if she had lost all else, she still had that. She still had him. She revelled in the moment, the rise and fall of his chest and the warmth of his skin. He was alive. Alive and with her. It was the one thing she could have asked for, aside from the safety of her daughter and a chance to return to the Forests of Silence and be a family again.

She felt her heart ache with tenderness at the sight of him.

'Jarred,' she whispered. 'I do love you so.' She always would, even after death. Of that much she was certain.

'I know.' He covered her hand with his own, and smiled. It lightened her heart to see it. 'Anna, I know.'

'Nothing will ever change that. Not even…' Her voice trailed away, unable say it.

'I know.' Jarred reached to caress her cheek. 'I do know.'

Her eyes stung even as she smiled at him. What would become of him, of them both? She was not sure that she wanted to know. All that she knew was that someday she would lose him, whether it be to illness or the Shadow Arena, and she could not bear the thought of it.

Why did it have to be this way? She did not think she would ever know. Only fate itself knew the answer.

oOo

A day after Anna's fever had broken, the march resumed. They were considerably less than before, Jarred noted with a bleak satisfaction. Five captives, including Kaldi, had died during the past days. Most of them had been very young or elderly, not strong enough to survive against something so deadly. Out of the children, only Jenara had lived, and young Enlynn. Frail Enlynn, who had only lived because Anna had tended to her all those days ago. There had not been many to begin with, but now only they were left, and would face death in the Shadowlands.

Jarred wondered if Enlynn's mother thought it now a wise choice, to not let her daughter die in peace when it had been possible. Now, however her life ended, her death would be through humiliation, brutality and suffering. Had it truly been worth it, in that case? Had his own choice been worth it?

Would it truly have been better for them both if Anna had wasted away from fever, and died a peaceful, less painful death in Deltora? He did not think they would ever know for certain. All he knew was that he wished it could have been otherwise, wished that none of this was happening now. If it was within his power, he would take them away, far away, from this dismal road, a road which would end in death and bloodshed in the place of their Enemy. If it was within his power, he would bring his family together again. Jasmine would not have to grow up without her parents- that is, if she lived so long. Anna would not have to endure brutality and eventual death in the Shadowlands.

But it was not in his hands at all. It was fate which had placed them on this path, and there was nothing he could do except pray and hope. And it hurt, to be so helpless. If it came to it, he would not be able to prevent the Grey Guards from abusing Anna, if they were so inclined. He could not protect her, once they were in the Shadowlands and at the mercy of their captors.

If they did harm her… He closed his eyes against the thought, his hands clenching into fists at his side. He did not know what he would do. And of course, he reminded himself, they had already harmed her. It was because of the Grey Guards that they were separated from Jasmine, marching toward death. They had torn apart their family and sliced at Anna's heart, and he did not think she would ever truly recover from it. His own heart burned to think of it.

Jenara had retreated almost altogether after Kaldi's death, choosing to keep her distance and her silence, and though he and Anna had tried, they had not been able to reach her. Kaldi's death had shaken her, that was plain, and despite all of Kaldi's claims she did not seem to want any of the comfort or support offered to her. Though it saddened him, he could understand it. The girl had befriended Kaldi and been shattered by her death; she did not want to take that risk again. So she stayed away, leaving Jarred and Anna alone.

Still, he could not forget Kaldi's final words, and the vow she had extracted from him. No matter how much it baffled him, he had promised, and he owed it to Kaldi's memory to try and do as she asked. No matter that the Jalis girl did not want his or Anna's help in the least. He had to try.

It was difficult—he had expected it to be. She kept herself scarce now, not wanting to be found. During the march there was no time to search, for all his energy was focused on avoiding the Grey Guards' ire and their whips that lashed out wherever they could. As they stopped for the night, he would look, but she could never be seen.

It was clear as day that the girl wanted to stay away from them. But he could not bring himself to accede to her obvious wish, at least not yet. There was still the promise he had made to Kaldi, after all.

'Jarred,' he heard Anna say quietly as they lay together one night. 'She does not want to speak to us. You cannot force her.'

He met her shadowed eyes with his own. 'I know.' What else could he say? How could he explain the promise he had made to Kaldi, and the sense of responsibility he felt toward her? He was not sure he understood it himself. 'But I cannot stop trying, yet.'

She looked at him in surprise, but he refused to elaborate.

Like Anna, Jarred had not wanted to think that the Jalis girl would never recover. However, Jenara had seemed so completely broken, in those few moments after hearing of Kaldi's death, that he could not imagine her recovering from it. He could not blame her for it. She was only twelve years old, and had been forced to witness unimaginable horrors and endure a savage beating, only days before. Kaldi's death was the last straw. She had lost her parents, her home, and her brother, and now Kaldi had left her as well. It was no wonder that she had broken down.

He found the girl at last a week after they had resumed marching, as their party settled down to rest. She sat curled underneath a tree with her head bowed; she looked up as he approached and a jolt ran through his spine at the bleakness in her eyes.

'Jenara,' he began. How, he wondered wildly, could he explain about the promise he had made to Kaldi, on the night of her death, which in part had made him feel so much responsibility towards her and her well-being? How could he explain it all without sounding completely mad?

'What are you doing here?' she said in a harder voice than he had ever heard her use before. 'What do you want with me?'

'To talk with you, that is all,' he told her. 'To be sure you are alright.'

'Why do you care?' Though her voice was flat and emotionless, her eyes were filled with emotion. 'We will all die in the Shadowlands.'

'Jenara…' He wanted to say something, but did not know what.

'It was a mistake, to befriend you and Anna and…and Kaldi.' The girl looked at him steadily with unblinking eyes, as if begging him to understand. 'It has brought me nothing but pain, and would make it worse for all of us in the Shadowlands. I do not want to die knowing there is someone who will grieve for me.'

The innocence that had been there in her eyes when they had first met was gone. If it was still there, it was only a shadow of what it once was. His stomach churned at seeing it, seeing what the march had done to a twelve-year-old girl. What it could have done to Jasmine, had she shared their fate.

'Jenara…'

He saw her shudder, though she tried to suppress it. Her eyes flashed with an emotion he could not identify. 'Leave me alone,' she whispered. 'Please. I do not want to see any of you ever again.'

He wanted to speak, to convince her otherwise, but the determined, bitter look on her face told him that he was wasting his time. What could he say or do to persuade a person who had already succumbed to despair? Most likely nothing.

And so he nodded, carefully avoiding the gaze of her empty eyes, and walked away without another word.

oOo

It was called the Mountain road, the road that would take them from this corner of emerald territory to Dread Mountain, and the very border of the Shadowlands itself. Already the thought filled Anna with more fear than she had ever felt in her life. For every step they took along that path would take them closer and closer to slavery, death, and suffering.

They would die there, the both of them, eventually, whether they were slaughtered in the Arena or succumbed to illness and starvation. It was inevitable. No person had ever escaped from the Shadowlands, or ever would. The Grey Guards had taunted them, countless times, about it, when they had not been describing in great, malicious detail the fate that awaited them in the Shadow Arena. To be owned, brutalised, brow-beaten… worked to exhaustion, with no surcease whatsoever… She almost shuddered to think of it. Perhaps it was more merciful, in a fashion, that she had been chosen for a gladiator's death, and not life-long servitude. At least she –and Jarred—would not suffer for long until death claimed them at last.

However, it did not minimise the agony she felt when she thought of Jarred's fate, and her own, and Jasmine's. Especially Jasmine. Her beautiful daughter, with her emerald-green eyes that were so much like her own, that had always shone with a bright joy and innocence as she played among the trees that were her home. It hurt to think of her, but she could not stop herself. Was she safe? Was she happy, or at the least content? Or was she frightened and alone, tormented by monsters? Anna did not think she would ever know, and she knew that she would never stop wondering and fearing, despite all the assurances she had spoken to Jarred as they marched through Plains territory, and all the hopeful words Jarred had told her in return. The fact was that their daughter was gone—Anna would never hold her again, or sing to her, or rock her to sleep. She was gone, and Anna felt bereft.

At least she still had Jarred. That knowledge kept her heart alive, and brightened her hope. At least she was not completely alone. But for how long would it last? How long would it be until they came for him? For either of them?

The thought ate at her as she lay beside Jarred in the darkness of the night. Restless and alert, she could only tremble, and wonder. Who would they choose first—herself, or Jarred?

Jarred was the stronger fighter, and the Grey Guards knew it. They had seen his strength, and the fire in his spirit, many times during this long march. It was always the strongest warriors who brought the most entertainment into the Arena, much more so than a defenceless woman whose knowledge lay in healing and herbs. Fighters resisted. Fighters gave it all that they had, with all the stamina, determination and fury that had not been lost to them along with their freedom.

Jarred was one such. So was Jenara, that small Jalis girl who had intrigued her so much during this march, being so much like Jasmine. Both were the sort of fighters the Guards were searching for to throw into the Shadow Arena.

They would choose Jarred first. She was sure of it. And she would be left to grieve alone, for however long until they finally came for her. It pained her heart to think of it. Oh, Jarred…

One night she lay curled in Jarred's arms, too tense to drift into sleep easily. Thoughts whirled through her mind—of Jasmine and her unknown fate, and herself and Jarred and their imminent enslavement in the Shadowlands. Especially that. It was terrifying, the mere thought of becoming a slave and having no free will at all and being at the complete mercy of their captors. The thought of Jarred enduring the abuse and taunts at the hands of the Guards struck her heart like a knife, deadly and precise. He had already endured so much—she did not want to see him be harmed more than he had been.

She could feel his breaths against his chest, and the steady beat of his heart. Alive. He was alive. For now. Without thinking she laid her hand gently on the side of his head, and felt him stir and open his eyes.

'Jarred.' His name came out in a single, soft breath.

'Yes, dear heart?' His voice was soft and gentle within the surrounding quietness, though filled with weariness. It almost brought tears into her eyes to hear it.

'I am afraid,' she whispered.

'So am I,' he said simply.

She felt herself shudder; in response she felt Jarred pull her closer toward him. They said nothing else; there was nothing to say. Instead they simply held one another, feeling each other's warmth and the steady pattern of their breathing, taking heart in the proof of their living.

After a long moment, Jarred spoke again. 'Whatever happens, we must face it with courage. We must not lose hope now.' His words, she knew, were as much for himself as they were for her.

'What if we are separated?' she asked softly. 'What then?' The words made her heart ache unbearably, but they had to be said. What would happen if they were placed in different cells, so completely isolated from one another that they did not know their fates? She knew she would hardly be able to bear it if she were physically separated from Jarred and never discovered whether he lived or died. And she knew Jarred must feel the same way.

'If…' and she saw him swallow hard, and look away, before continuing. He, too, did not like this particular thought. 'If it comes to it, and we are separated…'

'You do not know, do you?' she said quietly. He remained silent, avoiding her gaze. 'I do not know, either. And it frightens me so.'

'It frightens me, as well. Nothing frightens me more, aside from harm coming to you or Jasmine.'

'Oh, Jarred.' Gently, she cupped his cheek, feeling the moisture there. She felt her eyes sting with tears of her own, as she added, 'I can look after myself. You know that.'

'I know,' he said softly. 'But it still hurts.'

'I know,' she whispered. By fate, it hurt so much she did not think she could stand it.

Because she could not stand to see the pain in his eyes, she took him into her arms and held him close, willing the hurt and fear in both their hearts to go away. And she prayed, for all of them. For Jasmine to be safe, for Jarred to be whole.

She did not know when she drifted into sleep. It most likely did not matter. She only knew that she had been holding Jarred tightly against her breast, her heart sore with longing, fear and grief. Longing, to not have to let him go, to always be able to hold him in this way. For she would have to let him go, one way or another, eventually. It was inevitable. Fear, for herself, but most of all for Jarred, and Jasmine. Their daughter, lost and alone. With fate's blessing, she still lived, and would continue to do so. And Jarred… She suppressed a shudder. The thought was too unbearable to voice. What would become of him, of them both? She did not think she wanted to know.

She opened her eyes to the sight of the grey light of the dawn. It was dull and ordinary, as ordinary as the countless other dawns she had witnessed on this march, but Anna's heart thudded to see it. So beautiful… Tears sprang into her eyes, clouding her vision. It was beautiful. How could it be so beautiful? How can I weep at the sight of it? And yet she did. She could feel the tears, trickling silently down her cheeks, even as she sat there like stone, frozen and unmovable.

It was too unfair, too cruel. Fate was cruel. Whatever else they may have done, they had not deserved this. Jarred had not deserved this. To die, in torment, bloody and broken, torn apart piece by piece by a monstrous beast while the Shadow Lord's creatures watched and cheered from the stands… It was terrifying to think of. Not least of all because it was her fate. But, whether she was dead or alive, she would have to watch it happen to Jarred. How would she be able to bear it? Just as Jarred's greatest fear was her death in the Arena, hers was Jarred's. Her heart would break to see it, and she did not think she would ever be able to mend it, however much she tried to.

Would that she could mend it now! If she had the power, she would mend both of their hearts, chasing the pain and grief away. But she was only a healer of physical ailments. How could she heal the mind and heart? It was impossible. But, by fate, how she wished she could do it. Not for herself, entirely, but for Jarred. I will do anything, she had said. Just let him be whole. It had been a cry from the heart, irrational and reckless, but as she looked down at her husband, saw again his shadowed, haunted eyes and the pain and exhaustion in the lines of his body, she knew that it was true—she would give all of herself to ensure Jarred's happiness, and that of their daughter. There was no question of it.

In her arms she felt Jarred stir, and the dread of the night before gripped her again. By fate, she could not bear the thought of losing him.

He opened his eyes and looked at her. She gazed back, seeing her own fear and dread reflected in his.

'By fate, what will become of us?' she whispered.

Though images of the myriad possibilities filled her mind (and Jarred's as well, she was sure), neither of them could bear to respond.

oOo

It was in the afternoon of the next day that they passed a dark-looking village, sitting snugly at the foot of the Barrier Mountains. It looked almost sinister, in a way, Jarred thought. Certainly it was a place which no person would want to live in, with its forbidding appearance plain even from a distance. Murmurs arose when the village came into sight, and he saw a number of captives cast furtive, scandalised gazes upon it, one going so far as to hold up her hands in the sign to ward off all evil.

From others in the march, he had heard something of that dark place. Shadowgate, they called it. A cursed place. A place out of a person's nightmares, where the most terrible things were said to occur. It was better not to know what. Above all, what every person said about it was that there was a terrifying darkness at its core, and no one dared to go there because of it.

Jarred pondered what he heard. They were possibly only rumours, he thought, started by frightened people who were too superstitious for their own good. Most often people believed what they were lead to believe. However, every rumour had a grain of truth in it. Shadowgate was close enough to the Shadowlands border that is would be a dangerous place to visit; for all they knew, it could be cursed, tainted by the proximity of the Shadow Lord's domain. But of course, it did not matter—they would not be entering the Shadowlands through that village and its pass. Instead, they would be marching all the way to Dread Mountain, and entering through a pass that lead from the mountain's foot. He could not help but be relieved at that—it delayed their end yet again by another couple weeks.

The further they marched into emerald territory, the more Jarred felt a sense of foreboding and fear. Foreboding, for each step they took brought them closer and closer to the Shadowlands, and their final fate. Fear, because he knew that once the border at the foot of Dread Mountain, nothing would be the same again. They would be considered slaves, property, and treated as such. He did not mind for himself, but for Anna. Every part of him cried out at the thought of those monsters laying hands on her, and his heart clenched at the knowledge that he would not be able to prevent them from hurting her, if they were of a mind to.

It was not that he thought Anna to be weak. There was no person he knew more capable than Anna. It was she, after all, who had saved him from the Wenn all those years ago, with just her wits and her knowledge as a herbalist and healer, knowledge which had allowed her to brew that precious, life-giving potion. He still did not know how she had managed to do it—there had been so much chaos and so little time before sunset, the coming of the Wennbar and the imminent death that accompanied it. Still, she had done it. It was solely because of her that he had not been swallowed whole as a living sacrifice, and he never forgot it.

However, he knew that the place where they would soon dwell was harsher and crueller by far than the fabled terrors of the Forests of Silence which they had heard of for most of their childhood. There was no role for healers in such a barren wasteland. The Shadow Lord prized blood and horror, and death and despair, above all else, and strived to blot out hope and faith, amongst other things, from the face of the earth, for whatever dark reason. Healing denoted hope, to many people—especially in these times. Whatever actions brought that emotion to being, the Shadow Lord had nothing to do with.

One night, as they both lay together on the side of the road, he dared to broach the subject. Through the darkness, he saw her eyes widen in distress, and immediately regretted beginning this conversation. Seeing Anna upset was the one thing he could never stand.

'You know I can look after myself, Jarred,' she said quietly.

'I do know. But it will be different, in the Shadowlands,' he reminded her.

'I know.' Anna trembled, and he saw her eyes flash ever so slightly. 'I do know, Jarred. Blood, torture, death and horror… It is all the Grey Guards speak of. We will be locked away, taken out only when they want to use us. As if we were animals.' He felt her shudder. 'I do not think it would be so painful, for us. We will only be taken out once to be killed. But others… they will be used and beaten and tormented again and again, until they finally die of it. Their fate is crueller than ours, I think. And yet…' She shook her head. 'It is all the same.'

'I know.' How could he not? Anna was right—those others, who were condemned to suffer for a lifetime as slaves, had a worse fate than they themselves. However, they were all slaves, to be used against their will, whether they were thrown into a gladiator's arena or forced into harsh manual labour. None of them were truly free. What did it matter the manner of their slavery, if that were the case? They all suffered greatly, and all were owned, the property of the Shadow Lord, to do with them what he willed. It was part of what terrified and angered him most. To be owned and treated like chattel, helpless to prevent abuse of Anna, was one of his worst nightmares.

Would that it were not so. He almost shuddered at the terrible image that entered his mind—of Anna, bloody and broken, cornered by a hideous beast with slits for eyes and a gaping mouth. Anna, alone and defenseless, and he himself trapped, quite unable to help her. The reality of it was like a knife to the gut. In the Shadowlands, he would not be able to protect her. They could torture her, beat her, and send her to die, and he would not be able to do a thing about it.

'Jarred,' and he heard Anna's voice, as if from down a long tunnel. A hand stroked his cheek, and he turned his face toward it instinctively. Her hollow eyes seemed to smile at the sight, and it warmed his heart to see it. Too many times he had seen her blank, grief-stricken face as they walked together- it had never failed to cause him pain, knowing that she was suffering in part because of him, and his choice.

Her strong but gentle fingers continued to stroke his face, and he felt himself relax at her touch, as always. 'Jarred,' she said softly. 'It will be all right.'

He swallowed hard. 'How can you say so?'

'It must be true. We did not sacrifice all just to see the Enemy prevail. The Belt will be restored, and the Shadow Lord defeated. Jasmine will be safe. None of this will have been in vain.'

She was right, of a surety. But it did not take away the hurt. He shuddered again, and felt her arms come around him in an instant. He could hear her murmuring to him, and though he could not understand exactly what was being said, the love and strength in her voice was enough to make the tension leave his body with a final shudder.

'Anna.' He drew in a shuddering breath, before continuing. 'Anna, I do love you, so much.'

She gazed at him, and he found himself almost drowning in her expressive green eyes which conveyed so much at once. Regret. An aching love. Faith. Fear, for both of them, and for Jasmine. Sorrow, for the predicament they had found themselves in and what would become of them eventually. And relief, for they were both still alive, against all the odds, and still together. Still. A lump grew in his throat. It was indeed a blessing that they both yet lived.

'Anna…' he began thickly. He wanted to tell her so many things, but could not find the words.

'There is no need,' she said softly. 'And you know it as well as I.'

He looked away, and nodded. He did know. But that did not mean that it did not hurt.

'Jarred,' he heard Anna whisper, and felt the touch of her hand on his arm. He turned his head to see her gazing at him with anguished eyes. 'I do love you. I will always love you. You know that. But, Jarred, it breaks my heart to see you like this.'

His eyes stung, and he struggled to reply. 'I know. I… Anna, I am sorry. I never meant…'

Anna stopped his words with a kiss that set his heart to racing. When she pulled away, he was trembling, and so was she, but not from fear. They gazed at one another, their faces only inches apart.

'I love you,' Anna breathed. 'I wish you would tell me what is troubling you.'

'Anna, I know,' he said hoarsely. 'And you know I cannot.'

'I am your wife,' she said. His heart ached to hear the pain in her voice. 'I should know of this. I want to know. By fate, Jarred, why can you not let me share your burden?'

Gazing at her, seeing her frustration and distress, made his heart clench even more. He wanted so much to tell her all, but knew that it was impossible. Instead, he shook his head. 'Anna, I cannot. I cannot speak of it to even you. I am sorry if it hurts you, but it is the truth. Please, Anna, do not make me speak. I cannot do it.' His voice was harsh, more so than he realised at first. At hearing it, Anna flinched, and he saw the pain flicker in her eyes, pain which he felt in his own heart. By the Belt, he hated to cause her grief, but it could not be helped, now. It tore up his insides to even think of telling her all, not just because it would mean reliving everything that had happened to him during the march, but also because it would mean burdening Anna with so much fear and agony. While he knew that Anna was strong enough bear it, he knew that he was not strong enough to give her that burden. So he said nothing, and waited for Anna to respond.

'Alright,' she said at last, shivering. 'I will not make you. But I wish…' Her voice trailed away, and she glanced at him with tears plain in her eyes.

'I know, dear heart,' he said thickly. Tears stung his own eyes; it took all of his will to blink them back. 'I know.'

'Yes.' Sighing, Anna rested her head on his chest, and closed her eyes. Bit by bit, Jarred felt the tension in her body fade away, and with it the tension in his own body. How was Anna able to have such an effect on him? He could not say, but knew that he was well and truly grateful for it.

'Jarred?' Anna's sleepy voice reached his ears as he was settling into slumber.

He blinked in surprise but answered her in what he hoped was an audible tone. 'Yes, dear heart?'

'I love you, so much. I will not leave you alone.'

He swallowed back the lump in his throat but said nothing in reply, for Anna had already slipped into sleep.

oOo

The remainder of the journey along emerald territory passed rather uneventfully, at least compared to those of the other territories they had passed through. It was a surprising relief, one Jarred had not expected to have this far into the march. There were no more complications and no more delays; the only violence the captives experienced was the flick of the Guards' whips as they stumbled during the march. For Anna's sake, Jarred was relieved, for he had doubted that Anna would survive a brutal beating, or another illness such as the one she had recovered from, and it chilled him to the bone to think of Anna being killed. It did not matter that she would die anyway, in the Shadow Arena. The thought of her dying now and leaving him alone was almost too much to bear.

There was a lot of time to think, during the days and nights that came. To think of Endon, Sharn and their child, safe in the forge because of the sacrifice he and Anna had made. To think of Jasmine, either dead or surviving alone in the Forests of Silence. To think of himself, and Anna, and what awaited them in the Shadowlands. Slavery. Death. All the things that made his blood run cold as ice and filled his mind with fear. The thought being helpless to protect Anna from pain and abuse was unbearable, as was the thought of Jasmine dead in First Wood.

By fate, he prayed, let Jasmine, Endon, Sharn and the heir survive. Surely that is mercy enough?

oOo

On one of the last nights of their journey, Jarred dreamt. He dreamt that he sat on the broad branch outside their tree-top house, holding his wife close to shield her from the cool breeze that blew around them. They had come out, as they always did, to watch the sun set below the horizon in a brilliant display of amber and gold and pink which could never be seen from within the city of Del.

He could feel the small foot kicking out strongly- so fierce, and so determined! It was almost as if its owner was already aching to be freed from its temporary cocoon and come into the world. He could not help but marvel at it—he was sure he had never felt anything like it before.

'She is kicking strongly tonight.' Anna smiled with shining eyes, a hand resting gently on her large belly. The other hand covered his own, its touch conveying relief, tenderness and so much joy despite the constant danger that surrounded them even now. First Wood may have been a safe haven for them and their coming child, free from Grey Guards, but there were other dangers—the natural dangers of the Forests, those monsters which lurked on the forest floor and hunted by night for hapless prey to trap and kill. He and Anna had done their best to guard their home from the terrors of First Wood, but he knew that anything could happen, even with all the protective measures they had enforced upon themselves.

'How do you know it is a she?' he said lightly. 'It could be a he.'

Anna laughed; his heart warmed to hear it. 'I just know that it will be a girl,' she said. 'Perhaps it is a mother's instinct.'

'Perhaps,' he agreed. She knew as well as he did that there was an almost equal chance of the babe being a boy. But Anna had hoped for a daughter since they had first realised that she was with child eight months before. A boy would have been welcome as well, of course, but it was a girl she truly longed for.

'Whatever, whoever she comes to be, she will be loved,' he said softly. 'No matter what happens.'

A hand caressed his arm, and as he turned his head he could see Anna's green eyes, smiling and filled with joy, and hear her elated murmur. 'Yes. She will be.'

'Always,' he agreed.

'Yes.' Her smile widened; her mouth quivered, with what emotion he could not name. She leaned into him, sighing contentedly. 'Jasmine will be very loved.'

Jasmine.

He awoke with a start, the name on his lips like a prayer, or a blessing. Jasmine. Beside him, Anna made a small sound of surprise and tensed. Immediately Jarred stilled, and felt his wife relax once more into sleep.

The image swam in his mind again, of Anna's swollen belly and the strange feel of their child's feet kicking out from within. By fate, how long ago that had been! He could scarcely imagine such happiness now.

Jasmine. He could almost see her in his mind's eye, perching on one of the wide boughs in First Wood. Her green eyes blinked up at him, sparkling with excitement; in her hands was clutched the scrap of paper he had taken with him from Del on that fateful night seven years before. By fate, he missed her! It was hard to believe that he would never see her again, would never hold her or play with her in the treetops.

What does it mean, papa?

It is so pretty!

The memory filled him, and he smiled. Black hair glinting brown under a setting sun…

By the Belt, let her be safe!

In that moment, as the peace filled him, he could not help but think that she would be. Somehow, his daughter had survived, and would keep on surviving. After all, as Anna had said, she was a born survivor. They had taught her everything they knew. She would use those skills to survive, and she would live. She had to.

Still smiling, he closed his eyes, and let himself fall back into sleep.

oOo

The sun set in a blaze of brilliant light, streaked with shades of amber and gold, striking into the hearts of the captives sitting below it. None could tear their eyes away. There would be no sunset in the Shadowlands—they should make the most of this pleasure while it lasted. Even Jenara was entranced by it, lifting her head from her knees to gaze at the ever-darkening sky.

It was, Anna thought, as if it were farewelling them all, giving them one last piece of beauty to remember before the coming of the darkness. The thought brought tears into her eyes, however much she tried to blink them away. To think, that this would be the last sunset she would ever experience, the final spot of splendour she would ever see!

It was almost unbelievable. Just a few months ago, she had been safe in the Forests of Silence, with her family together and peace and contentment in her heart. A few months ago she had sat beside Jarred in the treetops of First Wood, watching this very sunset, with her head resting on his shoulder and his hand covering her own. They had said nothing; there had been nothing to say. They simply watched, the tranquillity of it all settling deep into their bones.

Anna had always loved dusk. It was a beautiful time, mystical and filled with shadows and light. Sunrise had often compelled her to sing with the joy of it, but dusk muted her with its wonder. It caused her to reflect, to look deep within herself and see sights she had never expected to see before. Trees became dark smudges against the horizon, melding together like a shadow painting; the clouds and sky suddenly blazed with a mixture of gold and orange colours tinted with pink. There was nothing else like it. She drank in the view, memorising every detail, storing as much as possible of it in her mind to bolster her in the days and weeks to come.

Beside her, she felt Jarred squeeze her hand gently.

'It is beautiful,' he said softly, his mouth close to her ear.

'Yes,' she whispered. 'It is.'

So beautiful. It was hard to believe that she would never see anything like it again.

oOo

Later, in the darkness of the night, they lay close together, eyes wide open and minds filled with thoughts of the future. At dawn, they would be marching into the Shadowlands, leaving Deltora behind them forever. It was a terrifying thought to behold.

Somehow, they fell into slumber. Jarred did not know when. When he next awoke, the world was still in darkness. The other captives in the party were still asleep, gathering as much strength as they could before they entered a place where they would have little chance for rest. He knew that he should do the same, but his muscles were tense, his mind in turmoil. He had barely managed to fall into sleep hours earlier, shaking and afraid; it was folly to think he could rest now. There was too much on his mind.

He felt a hand squeeze his, and thought: So. Anna is awake as well. Like him, she found it hard to sleep, thinking of what awaited them that day.

He turned to her, desperately seeking her face in the dim moonlight, as if she could erase the fear he felt lodged deep in his heart. She leaned toward him in the darkness, sighing softly, resting her head against his shoulder. Her eyes, from what he could see, were wide—from what, he could not tell. There was a trace of terror in them which nearly broke his heart.

'When the time comes, I will be there,' she said. 'I will never leave you alone.'

He closed his eyes as she caressed the side of his face. 'You cannot say that. What if you die first, and I am left alive? You could not be there then.' He hated himself for saying it, for reminding Anna of her own likely painful death, but he could not help himself. He was afraid. He did not want to be alone, and knew that it was inevitable, in the near future, that he would be. Whether it was in death or in life, he would be separated from Anna, until the day finally came that he (or Anna) was killed as well.

'Then I will be there in spirit,' she said steadily. 'As you will be there in spirit if you die before I do.'

She was right; she was always right. Neither of them could bear to leave the other alone, even if one remained in the world of the living. And he knew that he especially could not bear to leave Anna to face her end alone, whether he was already dead or not at the time. It would be completely beyond him.

'I am sorry,' he whispered. For everything that had happened. For all of his choices, which completely changed their lives and led to this final fate for them. For leaving Jasmine alone in the Forests, afraid and lonely and possibly dead.

'There is nothing to forgive,' Anna said gently. 'It is not your fault.'

'It is. This would never have happened if we had not taken their place, if we had not settled in the Forests of Silence. Those ideas were mine.'

'But it does not matter now, does it?' Anna's voice was tender.

He swallowed hard, and shook his head. 'No.' She was right; it did not matter now. What was done was done. He only wished that they could have chosen differently, so that they would not be where they were now.

'No,' he said quietly. 'I suppose that it does not.'

They lay in silence for a few moments, lost in their own thoughts. Then Jarred found himself speaking again. 'I… I do wonder about them. Whether they are safe.'

'I wonder, as well,' Anna said softly. 'I hope they are safe, they and our Jasmine. If they live on, then this must be worth it.'

Was it worth it, truly, if in the end he and Anna died? He paused. Yes. Yes, it was. Anna was right. As long as Endon, Sharn, the heir and Jasmine were safe, then their sacrifice was worth it. He could not think otherwise.

Looking at Anna, he saw that she felt the same way.

oOo

Dawn came too soon. Anna awoke in Jarred's arms, her head against his chest, and the steady beat of his heart in her ear. With her other ear she could hear the Grey Guards rousing from their slumber, grumbling and ill-tempered, and the sounds of the other captives stirring into wakefulness as the sky began to lighten to its customary grey.

She felt Jarred stir beside her, and met his dark eyes with her green ones. Her heart ached at the agony and fear in his gaze, agony and fear which mirrored her own. Why must it be this way? Why must fate be so cruel? He had not deserved any of this. None of them had. And yet, fate had placed them on this path, had torn apart their family and left Jasmine alone in First Wood without parents to guide and care for her. Fate only knew if she was still alive after so many weeks. She was not even sure if she wanted to know her daughter's fate. It was entirely possible that Jasmine was dead, and that was something Anna could not bring herself to accept.

Her emotions must have shown on her face, for Jarred reached to touch her cheek, and said softly, 'She will live, Anna. She must. Did you not tell me so, all those weeks ago?'

She nodded, the tightness building in her throat preventing her from speaking. How could she forget? Yet, so much could go wrong for a young girl in a dangerous forest, a forest which had haunted Anna's dreams since her early childhood. The mere thought of it was enough to make her close her eyes in terror.

'Anna,' and she felt Jarred squeeze her hand tightly. 'Anna, I know it hurts; it hurts me as well. But she will survive, she must survive. I cannot think otherwise, now.' He swallowed hard. 'We will need all of our strength to endure what is to come, and Anna, I do not think that we—that I—could survive in the Shadowlands and bear not only the pain of our fate, but Jasmine's as well. Do not ask me to do that, Anna.'

It was a near-plea, coming from the heart, and her breath shuddered to hear it. So much vulnerability, so much anguish. Too much. It shredded what was left of her battered heart, as did the fear in his eyes and the paleness of his face.

'Oh, Jarred.' Gently she stroked his cheek, brushing away the tears as they ran trails across his face. She could feel the tears sliding down her own cheeks, but did nothing to stop them. She did not think she could have. 'Oh, Jarred.' And then she was shaking, shaking, the world blurring before her eyes. Within a breath, Jarred drew her close to him, holding her with equally shaking arms, trying to soothe her despite the deep-laid terror which was surely consuming his own heart.

'Anna, Anna,' he murmured into her hair, as she trembled with the force of her fear. 'Anna, it will be all right. It must be.'

She shuddered once more, and looked up at him. 'Oh, Jarred, I do hope so,' she whispered. 'Because I do not know what I will do if it is not.'

The Grey Guards could be heard now shouting, making ready to break up camp for the last time. Other captives had begun to rise, groaning and stretching, as quickly as they possibly could to avoid the brutal snap of the Grey Guards' whips. Anna felt her heart quail within her at the sight. What she and Jarred had been dreading for so long had come at last. It was time to enter the Shadowlands. By fate, how she wished it was not!

She felt her gaze lock with Jarred's, and bit her lip to stop the tears from flowing. Tears would not do either of them good now. She felt so drained, like a part of her had been sucked away—and perhaps it had been. It did not matter now, in any case. She saw Jarred swallow hard, fighting back his own grief and fear, and felt her own throat tighten once more with all the emotions she could not find words to express. Yet, they must be, she knew, for if they were to be separated, if fate were so cruel, these were the last words they would ever speak to one another. As frightening as the thought was, she knew that she must do it, to give something to him to help him endure what was to come.

Before she could open her mouth, Jarred spoke. 'I love you.' Just those three words. They almost broke her inside, so laced they were with pain, regret, grief and fear. And love. Everything he could never say aloud.

'I love you, too,' she choked out. 'I always will.'

There did not seem to be anything else left to say. All the thoughts she had wanted to voice had fled her mind, leaving only blankness in their place, and a numbness that soothed. All she could think, now, was that she did love him so, and would lose him very soon, whether they were separated or not. What would she ever do without him? She did not know, did not want to know. But she knew that she would discover the answer to that question, someday. She could only hope that 'someday' was a long time coming.

She acted mindlessly, without almost any thoughts at all. The only thought in her mind was that of need, and love. She held his head with both of her hands, and pressed her lips against his. She felt him respond, his lips welding into hers like that of a drowning man. Desire surged through her, brought on by grief and a terrible need and a fear that had settled deep into her bones, not the fear of the Shadowlands, but the fear of being without him. They kissed and kissed and she prayed that they could never stop, while at the same time recognising that they should.

She did not know how long it was (not as long as it seemed, she was sure) until Jarred pulled away. He gazed at her, and she could see in his eyes all that he could not bear to say to her. That he loved her more than life itself, and was deathly afraid of what would become of her, that he would be left without her, to mourn her or wait for her, and he did not think he could endure that. The thought of being forcibly parted from her was even more unbearable, as he would be left alone and with no knowledge of her final fate. Which was the better alternative—to endure knowing all or having no clue as to how the other had died? She did not know, and did not think that Jarred knew either.

She said nothing, but laid a hand on his cheek and buried her head in his chest, letting her body sag against his for the few moments they had left together. She felt Jarred's arms slowly tighten around her, drawing her as close as possible to him, before reluctantly loosening his hold. There was no point, they both knew, in delaying the inevitable. Without a word, he stood, pulling her to her own feet as he did so.

It was time, at last, to enter the Shadowlands.

oOo

It took them the better part of the day to march from the base of Dread Mountain to the Shadowlands border. It would likely have taken them longer, Anna thought, but for the Grey Guards' continual flick of their whips, hurrying them along. There was something almost manic to their movements now, as if they were desperate to finally return to their master's stronghold and leave this unwholesome duty behind them.

For the entirety of the journey, she felt Jarred close by her side, and took comfort in his presence. Whatever fate would befall them, at least they were together now. And Jasmine was not with them. The Guards had not found her, on the day they entered First Wood and captured both herself and Jarred. She was safe. That, she thought, was the most important thing to remember and give thanks for.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Jenara, the Jalis girl she had befriended and come to care for, walking steadily ahead on the narrow path, her head bowed, refusing to look any person in the eye. Anna's heart went out to her; she longed to reach out, say something, but knew that it would only be met with resistance by the girl and angry reprisal by the Guards. It was unfair, and cruel, that Jenara, who had reminded her so much of her own daughter, should meet this fate. Alone, friendless, without family, she would be slaughtered in the Arena, for the entertainment of the crowds. It sickened Anna to think of it. It could have been Jasmine in her place. Had events turned out differently, it would have been. But, she knew, there was nothing to be done about any of it. It still hurt, however. It would likely always hurt. She did not have to look at Jarred to know that he felt the same.

When the darkness of the Shadowlands finally came into sight, she gazed at it, dry-mouthed and ice-cold, and knew in her heart of hearts that she would die there. Someday, somehow, she would meet her end in a brutal, agonising fashion, alone. She did not know how she knew—only that she did. And it chilled her, terrified her, even, to think of it, to think of dying so horribly. Not even the thought of being at the mercy of the Shadow Lord frightened her as much as that did, in that moment.

Dimly, she felt Jarred gently squeeze her hand in his, but could not bring herself to look at him. Could not tear her eyes away from that terrible, forbidding mass before her that they were moving closer and closer toward. Do not think about it, do not think… but how could she not stare at it and imagine the horrors that awaited her and Jarred?

In the back of her mind, she realised that she was now frozen in the pathway, trembling violently and quite unable to stop.

Fate be merciful, she prayed desperately, and forced her numb feet to walk on before the Guards could strike at her for her slowness. Let us be together until the end. That is surely mercy enough.

They crossed the Shadowlands border, and as the remnants of her homeland faded away her heart ached with loss. She would die in that terrible dark land, without ever seeing the beauty of Deltora again. She would never see Jasmine again. She clutched Jarred's hand as if it could shield her from that terrifying thought.

Please fate, let it be all right!

And she gripped Jarred's hand tightly, refusing to let go even as they halted and the Guards began to separate the captives into three groups, to be led to different cells. She kept hold of his hand even as she felt the searing flicks of the whips at her legs and felt the sticky wetness of her own blood.

At last, they were thrown into a small grey cell which hardly seemed large enough to fit all the slaves that were allotted to it. Still holding onto each other, they stumbled and collapsed into a corner of the room, unable to stand any longer. Jarred started, as if waking from a dream. He looked at her, and his eyes held a naked, almost agonizing relief which brought tears to Anna's eyes.

She felt herself shake, and could not stop. He held her close to him and she could feel his body trembling against hers even as he tried to soothe her own emotional and physical pain.

'Jarred,' she whispered, and her voice broke with the effort of even speaking. 'Oh, Jarred.'

He looked at her with his heart in his eyes, and then she was weeping, rocking, shaking violently and unable to stop for the all-consuming ache of grief in her heart. What would become of them, trapped in this hell and at the mercy of monsters? What would become of Jarred?

'Anna, Anna,' and she heard Jarred's voice, hoarse with exhaustion, in her ear. 'Anna, it will be all right. It must be.'

'How can you know that?' she whispered. 'How?'

He looked away. 'I do not. But I cannot think otherwise and not lose all hope. And at least we are together, for now.'

She stilled, and met his burning eyes with her teary gaze. He was right. They were together, as they had both desperately hoped for. She was not to endure this hell alone. It was something to give thanks for. But she had also condemned them both to watch as they each suffered torment after torment at the hands of their captors. She had condemned herself to watch Jarred be dragged away to die in the Shadow Arena at the hands of a Vraal.

But somehow, none of that mattered, not when she looked at Jarred and imagined the desolation she would have felt at being separated from him and knowing that he was suffering somewhere and unable to comfort him. That, she thought, would have been a worse fate than the one they now faced.

'I love you,' she whispered.

He said nothing, but she felt his arms tighten around her.

'Sleep, dear heart,' he said at last. 'You will need all of your strength for the time ahead.'

She wanted to tell him to sleep as well, for he looked as if he needed it more than she did and did not seem to have any intention of falling into slumber anytime soon. But her mind was too hazy, and she could not find the will to shape her numb lips.

She rested her head on Jarred's shoulder, and waited for the darkness to descend.