Shadow Knight

by M. H. Johnson

  Twilight’s voice turned cold. Cold as the Void, Jess found herself thinking, finding the thought oddly pleasing, though she could not say why. “Choose, Alkazaar. Fight or flee, but do not waste our time!”

  The creature growled but did not advance, instead choosing to glare at Jess, as if measuring her, or perhaps trying to break her under the weight of its dark hate alone. Jess grimaced, feeling insidious dread slithering its vile way up her spine. Growling, she slashed her cheek with blade once more, relishing the sharp sting of pain it provided. Jess focused on the horror of what had occurred this day, focused on the agonized whimpers of those she loved, remembered the fierce hot satisfaction of her enemies falling to her blade.

  Jess smiled darkly as her longsword burst into white-hot flame once more. What compelled the metal to ignite so furiously at the touch of her blood she neither knew nor cared. She only knew that her enemy was before her, and she would take savage pleasure in destroying it, claiming its power and sending its screaming carcass back to Hell.

  And perhaps the monster sensed something of her fierce resolve, for despite its huge size and obvious power, it was the one to lower its head.

  “Very well, Midnight. Play your games. I claim what is rightfully mine. I have no interest in the souls of those children above, and shall depart only with those diabolists who have given themselves willingly to me.”

  Twilight locked gazes with Jess. “It is fair, Jess. A fair bargain for those who walk the bloody paths that we do.”

  As much as part of her railed against the thought, the bodies claimed had been diabolists intent on slaying her friends and butchering Louise. Creatures who, Jess was sickly certain, had defiled Lady Vaila as well. “Go, creature. Flee with your life! You are abjured! Leave, and do not return to this realm.”

  The creature shook the dark chamber with one final howl before seeming to twist out of space and time entirely, and with a silent roar that nonetheless tore through the chamber, the demon known as Alkazaar was gone.

  The diabolist that Jess was certain was Mord laughed darkly, even as his father hissed with displeasure.

  “So, you actually managed to dispel a lord of Hell! By all the powers below, you will make a fine filly indeed, dearest Jess. And such a fascinating twisted tongue with which you addressed that creature. I only wonder what it was exactly that you said?"

  Jess snapped around, blade at the ready, relieved to see that Malek had been keeping careful watch on the enemies at their back while she had faced the demon, though at that moment she felt puzzled as much as angry. “What the hell are you talking about, Mord?”

  But her old foe just gave a bemused shake of his head. “And to think that all this time I had doubted for even a second Billy’s horrified claims. Doubted the dark kinship we felt, our blades swinging in unison, cleaving through all our foes. You never refused a single mission, Jess. Don't tell me you didn't love the bloodshed every bit as much as I.” Mord chuckled darkly. “Truly, my prize, the bloodline we could forge together!”

  Malek snorted. "Just shut the hell up, Mord. Now you're not even trying to pretend you aren't who we know you to be."

  Mord's eyes flashed with rage. "How dare you talk that way to me, you fallen little sodomite! Only because you have proven your worth on the field of battle do I even tolerate your presence. You are utterly beneath me."

  Malek’s grin was all teeth. “This from the pathetic bitch who hides behind a crying little girl. We’ve killed all your friends, Mord. Now it only remains for us to clean up the slops.”

  Instantly, Mord smoothed his furious glare, shifting his posture to one of cold calculation, like any of Lord Hyve's protégés would have been trained to do from the second year on. “Your words mean nothing. It is Jess who wreaked the most devastation upon this little field of battle, catching us unawares. It is Jess who managed to dispel that demon, such a useful tool it proved to be. You, little black sheep, are just a hanger-on! Irrelevant, impotent, a pathetic stain upon your family name.”

  Coldly, he turned to face Jess, making it clear he would address her, and her alone.

  “We make a deal, dear Jessica de Calenbry. A deal between you and I. A pact that will bind all of us here, a shared oath that will allow your precious Louise and our dear friend Lady Vaila to leave this chamber, alive.”

  Jess fastened her eyes upon little Louise’s desperate, pleading gaze. Covered in foul rust colored sigils, shaking with terror and exhaustion, she was but a shadow of the happy little girl who so joyfully shared in the sacred ceremony the three of them had performed every solstice since Jess had first arrived at the school.

  First stumbling upon them by chance almost three years ago, an entranced Jess had joined Lady Vaila and her daughter's rooftop ceremony, revering what Jess now suspected was a shoot of the sacred Tree of Life itself. A ceremony bonding them in ways deeper than mere friendship, for all that Vaila treated Jess as naught but a favored student every other day of the year. And whether or not it actually was a sacred shoot, it certainly served as the perfect focal point for their ritual, a celebration of the glory of nature herself, and all the beauty and virtue held sacred and safe within the forests and fields of Erovering.

  But for Jess, it went far deeper than that. What Lady Vaila had pieced together through years of study, Jess had somehow intuited instinctively. That there was something very special, very precious about that pristine little oak that sheltered in the side of the mountain adjoining their rooftop garden.

  Jess felt her lip curl in a snarl as she took in the realm of foul depravity before her. It was a place of tragedy and pain, sorrow and folly. Lady Vaila, so serene, so proud, with such a gentle, confident smile was now a broken woman, even as so many of the very diabolists who had thought to accrue power from her suffering had only suffered the folly of true damnation. Yet the present scene of their macabre little play was not over yet, Jess knew all too well, her focus now less on vengeance and more on saving those she could.

  Covered in blood, welts, and tears, sobbing inconsolably for her child, Lady Vaila reached out with broken arms cruelly smacked away by a callous Lord de Plaga, even as Mord, his son, locked gazes with Jess, his serpentine dagger at a terrified Louise’s throat, and Jess swore she could sense his mocking smile, enchanted hood or no.

  “Please, Jessica!” Lady Vaila trapped Jess’s gaze with her desperate plea. Her words were somewhat garbled from her shattered jaw, yet miraculously, her voice still rang true. “Please save my daughter! By the goddess herself, I beg of you, Paladin of Yis, save my child!”

  Lord Plaga’s fist cracked against the back of the herbalist’s head, even as Jess felt the room buckle and twist, suddenly dizzy with confusion, lost in a sudden maelstrom of memories rippling through her. Winter fields buried in the bodies of the fallen, friends and foes alike. A dozen of her closest companions clanking pewter cups with her in celebration as they gloried in the solstice, singing ancient songs in a language so beautiful she could burst into tears. The gentle gaze of a lover wearing ancient clothes, embracing her with such tenderness. All those flashes caused her to gasp in shock and wonder. For the memories were not her own.

  “Silence, wench! Speak not those words in this place!” Mord’s father roared.

  “Jess!” An alarmed cry. Malek. Jess hissed and shook her head, determinedly pushing aside all distraction.

  “Focus, my Jess. Focus on the here and now. All that matters is here and now," soothed Twilight's comforting voice, his familiar weight once again upon her shoulder.

  “If you touch her again I will rip your head clean off your shoulders, Plaga." Jess's voice, little more than a guttural hiss, caused the man to stumble back, even as his son barked a mirthless laugh. Jess could feel the palpable hate radiating off the man, the contempt he felt for everyone present, perhaps even for his own son.

  “Such a fierce creature you are, my Jess. I savor our battles more than you know, but what a sweet pleasure it will be to break you one day.” Mord sighe
d. “Oh well, a prize to savor for another time.” His bemused tone turned to one of cold command. “Hear out my bargain, Jessica de Calenbry. Take it, and your precious little prizes may leave this place and suffer no further at our hands. Fail to take it, and I swear to you, their souls will be sent screaming into the Abyss, even should you manage to best me with your blade! And you will find that no easy feat, dearest Jessica. Just as you have taken your first steps down one forbidden path to power, I have embraced its dark twin, for we both stand tall and strong in the realms between waking and dream, even as we speak!”

  Jess felt her gut roil with a sudden sick understanding. “Diabolism.” Her voice, little more than a whisper. “You claim the souls of those you sacrifice. You take their power. You bloody monster!”

  Mord’s laughter was cold. “And you don’t, Jessica de Calenbry? How exactly do you think a Delver claims such inhuman strength and vitality? Come now, Jess, how often have we killed together under Eloquin's black banner, reveling in the screams of every slaver we cut down? We both have blood on our souls, Jessica. A stain that has only heightened your darkest hungers, as we both know.” His smile left her sick with shame. “You are no innocent, Jess, and every foe you savage in the Dreamrealms was once a mortal. Twisted and corrupted by Shadow, but once a mortal, nonetheless.”

  Jess shuddered, suddenly sickened.

  “Not true,” Twilight blandly noted. “No few of the monsters we have faced in Shadow are of diabolic origin. By eliminating them, we are actually helping to stabilize the barriers between worlds. It is how we safeguard our home from the endless hordes of hellions that would dearly love to invade, if they could.”

  Mord laughed, and Jess saw him stare right at her shoulder. “So it is true. I finally see it, now. You really do have a familiar, dearest Jess. Your little adviser whispering counsel into your ear. No wonder you were able to scout out those raider camps so perfectly! Pity. You would think a familiar that talented could help you in the classroom.”

  Jess glared at his mocking tone. “My grades are irrelevant. Serving Eloquin as a blackened dagger was the only noble act I ever saw from you, and now I know why you were always so willing to come along. The rest of us killed for king and Crown, for the sake of duty, Mord, not pleasure. No matter how much I once hated you, I never thought you could fall this damned far! And if you hurt my friends any further than you already have, you will die by my blade. This I swear!”

  Mord snarled. “I remember your face at those time, Jess. The sweet, righteous rage that would wash over you. You enjoyed the blood and revels just as much as I, Jessica! You are no better than me!”

  Yet strangely it was his own father who smacked his fist against his son’s cheek. “Enough. Do not cut that child again, lest you would end this all, here and now. Your tart is bound to her word, just as you would bind her. If you cut that child, her familiar will counsel her to kill you, regardless of the two mortals in play.”

  Mord’s furious glare cooled instantly, he gave a thoughtful nod. “Take her.” He calmly placed Louise into his father’s arms before turning his mocking gaze to Jess once more. “If Jess does not hear out my offer, snap one of her arms, Father.”

  “Quit yapping and make your damn offer, Mord!” a furious Jess hissed.

  Mord laughed. “Such an interesting choice of words, future mother of my get. My offer is this: I shall allow little Louise and her mother to leave this little tidal pool of Shadow without suffering death or any further harm. I shall even leave the blood sigils in place that protect them from being crushed by the weight of this realm that kisses so close to the Abyss.” Jess could hear the smile in his voice and shivered. “You didn’t realize? I can tell by your expression that you did not. How amusing! How truly innocent you are to your own dark powers. I am surprised you don’t recognize the abyssal runes that protect mother and daughter here, quite similar as they are to the ones you used to bind a certain girl's soul to her body, when you pulled her free from the Shadowrealms just days ago.”

  Jess felt her nostrils flare, stepping back, as if warding against blows from unseen quarters. The other diabolists, far less bold than Mord and his father, raised their arms placatingly when Jess lifted her sword, as if to parry Mord's taunting laughter.

  “Ah, Jess. That's right! You have not even woken properly since you entered the Delver's long sleep, where so much is forgotten even as your power buds and grows within. But one of the flaws of the path you have chosen! And how sweet a vision you looked, leading your prize back to Highrock covered in sigils and runes any practitioner of the True Art would understand the significance of at once, twisted as those sigils were!” Mord smirked. "Poor, Jess. You don't even know that your latest doxy is horrified by the tales spinning about you two already. Her memory as blank and pathetic as your own expression right now. She was aghast to find out she had taken a female lover, by the way, and after you saved the worthless tarts life, no less. I would make her bleed for that affront, but she is your toy, not mine, so do as you will." His mocking smile sickened Jess.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about, Mord. If I had covered this girl in sigils as you claim? Then I was using the power of my will to protect her soul in the realm of dreams!" Jess blinked as the epiphany came over her, knowing the truth of the words even as she said them aloud. "Blood is a conduit, which you should know, as you are a student of vile arts that should be banned! All my sigils did was protect her, as no doubt any Delver could protect any mortal, should he think to use his blood to pull them free of the Shadowlands!”

  “No Delver who is not a master of the True Art knows to use those sigils, Jessica de Calenbry,” Mord’s father coldly stated. “What dark secrets does your father teach you that he seeks to keep hidden from us? All of those in the dark brotherhood have sworn oaths never to work at cross-purposes to one another, whether or not we act in alliance. Your father should know this. Your clan is in breach of the Dark Accords, Jessica de Calenbry, with your interference in our affairs!”

  “I don’t know what the hell you are talking about, Plaga, nor do I care! Tell your son to quit toying with me and make his damn offer, and if either of you dare hurt another hair on Louise’s head, I shall break every damn bone in your body!”

  “Insolent bitch!” Lord Plaga snarled.

  “Fascinating prize!” Mord corrected, favoring Jess with a bemused smile she could sense even beyond his hood. “Very well, my prize. I shall speak in plain terms for you. You will swear an oath to take no further offensive action against any of us that you see before you, including informing any third party, such as any college representative, of your suspicions regarding those whom you think are responsible for the attack and thefts at the college, and we in turn swear to let your little Louise and Vaila go unharmed. Furthermore, you will swear not to transcribe the events you have experienced during your little adventure. And that oath must be sworn by you and your little lackey both.” Mord's cruel, handsome lips curved into a mocking smile. “And you know already how well I keep my oaths, Jessica. The nature of the dark hungers we embraced, that none of our peers could understand. For only ones such as you and I know how hatred and desire are but two sides of the same coin. No, my sweet?”

  Mord laughed then, even as his father frowned. “If that is so, why does she fight us?”

  Jess flushed and looked away, mortified by Mord's words, loath to acknowledge how fiercely they had once gloried in savage butchery together under Eloquin's banner. So many pleading outlaws begging for quarter they had cut down together, swords striking as one, flashing feral grins as their enemies screamed and died before them. And how she drank like a fish afterwards, eager to wash away all memory of those fresh stains upon her soul.

  Malek growled like a hound in truth, and Jess could sense how close he was to giving in to his own berserker fury. “Watch your tone, Mord, lest you would grin like a toothless old man for the rest of your days. Let’s see how many slatterns like you then! And if your father thinks
to hurt little Louise in recompense, I will gladly disembowel him and feed his entrails to all the denizens of Shadow!”

  Mord flashed a wicked smile, nodding his head almost as if he were enjoying a performance, even as Jess gently squeezed her shieldbrother’s shoulder. “You and I both know to tune out Mord’s more annoying blathering. Let’s just finish this and get out of here.”

  Mord snorted at Jess’s tone. “Well, my prize, what say you?”

  Jess’s look was one of scathing contempt. “Do you really expect me to agree to such a binding oath, leaving you and yours free to do whatever you would wish to me or mine, and me powerless to counter? Let me be clear, Mord. If this is not to end in a bloodbath, you and every one of your cohorts must swear an oath to never cross me or mine, and to leave the college out of your damn games, or the oath is off and I am free to strike and slay whoever crosses me!”

  “So long as it is understood that you may only strike at those of us who break oath and come after you or your closest friends and blood relatives, or work further infernal practices at Highrock," Lord Plaga countered. "Should one of these fools cowering like broken sheep break their oath and strike at you or yours, and my son and I have no part in that, your oath to us still holds; you may not strike at our family any more than we will strike at yours, and that includes keeping all the events that you suspect have occurred secret. For to reveal the parts played by those who would cross you would also betray those of us who have stayed our hands against you or your kin."

  “How amusing it is when mortals seek to bargain with my mistress, as if they were actual Powers," Twilight dryly noted. "Let the oath then be as follows: You, Plaga clan, and your sniveling cohorts here shall swear an oath marked by your voice and the taste of your soul which I promise you I shall not forget, swearing to never cross my mistress, her Calenbry kin, or her closest companions which includes those students who sit and dine with Jess at table, or their kin. Further, you shall allow Vaila and her daughter Louise to leave this pocket Shadowrealm without suffering further harm, and you and your cohorts will cease and desist any further nefarious activities on Highrock grounds."