The Shadow Project

by Cecilia Dominic

  I held my hand against the trunk and pulled from the energy of the earth and the surrounding forest. His brothers and sisters lent me strength as I knitted the wood and then the bark back together. By the end of it, he was healed, and I lay panting on the ground. Sir Raleigh emerged from my jacket and licked my face, then batted at me with a paw. I suspected the hunger pangs in my belly belonged more to him than to me, although I would need to eat after all the energy I'd expended. I was out of shape, as the humans liked to say. It had been a long time since I'd done more than healing spells.

  "Now how to get home?" It was a good five miles, still.

  A neigh, then snuffle made me jump. I turned to see—how fairytale can you get?—a wild white horse standing behind me. For a second, the image of a horn flashed on its forehead, then disappeared. Huh. I guess it had been long enough since I'd engaged in carnal pleasure that I could sort of see the unicorn.

  “May I offer you a ride, Sister?” The female voice in my head sounded amused, but I didn't take offense at her tone or her addressing me as an equal. I could tell she and I were probably about the same age.

  "I would be honored," I said. "Do you mind my passenger?" I held out the cat for her to see. She sniffed, then drew back.

  “If I must. However, you assuredly know he is more than he appears.”

  I looked down at Sir Raleigh, wishing I could see what others saw in this little gray cat with one white paw. He yawned.

  "So I've been told, but he's only protected me thus far."

  Then if he protects you, he is worthy of being my passenger. She knelt, and I mounted. Sir Raleigh hooked his claws into my shirt, and through it, I felt each of his eighteen needle-sharp appendages. He seemed as comfortable with the horse as she did with him. However, if it would get me home, I'd ride a gargoyle, I was that desperate and tired.

  I didn't like desperate and tired. I held on to the unicorn's mane, and she rose. With a smooth gait that I appreciated, she took trails through the forest rather than the road, and soon I saw the lights of my cottage. I sincerely hoped I wouldn't return to any nasty surprises this time. In fact, I had a call to make.

  "Thank you for your help," I told the unicorn when she dropped me and Sir Raleigh by the front door. I wanted to ask what she saw when she looked at the little cat, but I couldn't bring myself to admit that I didn't know. It didn't seem to matter.

  “You are very welcome. And as for your companion, you will discover his secrets when it is time.”

  Right, trust a unicorn to be vague. I bowed, and she lowered her head, then vanished into the night. Her magic tingled over my skin, and I remembered the feeling of being surrounded by such old power in Faerie. It was like bathing in a bubbling natural spring, but without the nasty sulfur smell or embarrassing turning pink. I closed my eyes and relished the sensation until the homesickness became too much.

  After I fed Sir Raleigh and got him settled, I went out into my back yard and uncovered my obsidian scrying stone. Well, for witches, it served as a scrying stone. For me, it was a communications method, one of the world's oldest such devices, if it could be called that. I much preferred it to the rectangle of plastic, metal, and annoyance that now sat charging on my desk. At least my stone didn't lose power at an alarming rate just by being near me.

  No, in fact the surface glowed silver with moonlight, more like mirror than stone, and I took a deep breath.

  "I'd like to speak with someone in the vicinity of Atlanta, Georgia, please. Someone connected with the mission I've been given. Someone who can help."

  An image like clouds reflected in the blue sky swirled in the stone's surface, and I found myself looking into the face of a young redheaded witch.

  "Who the hell are you?" she asked.

  If I'd had any doubt that luck, fate, whatever wasn't on my side, this call confirmed it. But I had trusted the magic to connect me with someone who could help, and… Oh, right, the most likely person to be awake at the time would be a teenager. I'd forgotten that it would be very late at night there.

  "Who are you?" I asked and put my hands on my hips.

  "You first. Why are you in my laptop?" She frowned and clicked on something. The picture went to Call Paused, and then she reappeared. "And why won't you go away?"

  Lovely. Before I said something that would alienate her completely, I inhaled again and allowed the air to fill my lungs, then released it with a count of ten. Human tricks weren't all bad, after all.

  "I am Renee River," I told her, giving her the legal name I used when dealing with humans. "I live in Scotland, and I've been given a task to come meet some people there in Atlanta. Now who are you?" I asked again, hoping she'd at least identify herself so I could know how she'd fit.

  "I'm seriously talking to someone in Scotland? And what program is this? It took over my computer. This better not have deleted the movie I down—er—am watching."

  I opted to ignore the almost-confession of questionably legal viewing. "You're a witch, correct?"

  That got her attention. Her eyebrows popped up. "How did you know?"

  "The program. It knows." Not that it would have made sense even a half-century earlier to call the spell a program, but hey, we all had to change with the times, even witches.

  She pressed buttons on her keyboard. "This is literally the weirdest thing that has happened to me."

  "Literally?" I couldn't resist asking.

  "Are you making fun of—oh, hey, is that your cat?"

  Sir Raleigh had chosen that moment to make another appearance. His claws dug into my shoulder, and I caught him before he toppled off since I was leaning over the stone. As per usual, I untangled his little tail and paws from my hair.

  "He's so cute! What's his name?" Then, with a shocked expression, "Whoa! What's up with your ears?"

  In my effort to disentangle the cat from my curls, I'd allowed one of my pointed ears to show. Crap.

  "Don't they teach you acceptance or something in school these days?" I snapped and hastily rearranged my hair to cover my Fae-points.

  "No, you're thinking of something else. Are you a Fae?"

  Her question made me pause and take another look at her. Most young people would have asked if I was a Trekkie or fairy cosplayer, but her use of the term told me she had magical education beyond the average schooling, even for a witch.

  "What if I am?"

  "Then I shouldn't give you my name, should I?" She crossed her arms and gave me a stern look. Well, tried to. On her young face, the expression made her look embarrassed or constipated rather than intimidating.

  I held up a hand like I was doing a spell and hoped the universe would come through for me. "Do you think I, a powerful Fae, can't find that out?"

  Luckily for my intimidation efforts, someone else had figured out she was up.

  "Kestrel, are you still awake?" A sleepy voice came from off-camera.

  "Shit, shit, shit." Her hand blocked the camera as she tried to close the laptop lid. I shook my head.

  "The spell turns it to stone temporarily. Or something like it." My turn to curse, this time internally. This was exactly the type of knowledge my mother did not want getting out.

  "She thinks I'm watching a movie," Kestrel hissed. "Yes," she called. "Just finishing up a movie. I've paused it." Then she gave me a significant look.

  I put the kitten down by my feet and told him to stay put, then assumed a cross-armed posture. A woman who looked like an older and more tired version of Kestrel came on screen. She had the same rust-colored hair, but it was shorter, and the fine lines of middle-aged worry had started to show on her face, especially around her eyes. She ruffled her daughter's hair, and I shoved down a surge of envy that I’d thought I'd gotten over. My mother had never touched me with tenderness like that—at least not once I'd passed childhood.

  "What are you watching?"

  "Some stupid movie about a fairy." Kestrel said with a shrug. "What are you doing up?"

  "I heard you talking to someone.
Or thought I did."

  Not blinking was getting harder by the moment.

  "Nope."

  "Okay, then. I was worried, thought you may be having another nightmare."

  "No, you must've heard the movie." Kestrel shrugged, the picture of innocence as she lied through her teeth to her mother. I had to give her some respect for that. Her deviousness could prove useful.

  "All right. Ten more minutes, then lights out for you, young lady. And don't forget to take your nighttime vitamins."

  Kestrel's eyes widened, but she swallowed and nodded. "Okay."

  "Good." Mom planted a kiss on the top of her daughter's head and left. I indulged in a blink with a long squint for good measure. When I opened my eyes, I saw Kestrel looking at me.

  "So you have my name," she said in a voice barely louder than a whisper. "What are you going to do to me?"

  I should have told her that's not how the name thing worked, but I sensed I'd need her to be cooperative. "I'll have to think about it. I'll be coming to town in a couple of days and I'll need someone to help me. Will you?"

  "Yes." She ran her hands through her hair. "Shit, am I agreeing because you've put a glamour on me, or do I really want to help you? I think I do because I've never met a Fae before. I'll be the only one in the coven who has."

  "Coven?" I asked, imagining her sneaking off with her friends into the woods to do spells and rituals with sticks and seashells.

  "Yes," she said with a sigh. "The White Oak Atlanta Coven, of which my parents are the grand poobah and grander poobah-ess." She rolled her eyes.

  I stifled another laugh. "You don't sound like you're that into it."

  "Not really, but that's all I'm going to say. You already have my name."

  "Right. What's your cell number?"

  She gave it to me, and I noted it on the pad of paper I kept in my jacket pocket. "Great. I'll text you when I get there or soon after."

  "I suspect I'll meet you sooner than you expect," she said, and with that, clicked off. I suppose the spell decided I'd gotten the help I would need from her for then.

  Sir Raleigh, meanwhile, had made his way inch by painful inch up my jeans, and I peeled him off my left hip. He purred loudly, apparently proud of himself.

  "Speaking of troublesome young things, what am I supposed to do with you? You can't come with me."

  He licked my nose, and I held him to my chest. Something about his purr made me feel better, and later that night, carried me off to sleep. I hoped that I wouldn't have nightmares, but all too early the following morning, something startled me awake.

  5

  I opened my door to find a constable and, behind him, a concerned looking-Gabriel and annoyed Selene.

  "Can I help you?" I'd pulled a robe around me but felt exposed. The chill of the late winter air blasted away the remainder of my morning grogginess. It had been a late night with the phone call and then my attempts to research what in Hades the creature in my house could have been. And, tangentially, what a scientist in the United States could want with an exiled Fae princess. Not that he knew I was exiled, but still…

  "You're Ms. River?" the constable asked. He was a young one. Which, for me, meant anyone less than a hundred, but this one looked like he'd just graduated from constable school.

  "Yes, that's me." I didn't require coffee like humans, but I did enjoy a good cup of tea every so often, and at the moment, I really wanted one.

  "Did you have an accident along the Farm Well Road last night?"

  Oh, right. They must have found Heather, or what was left of her. I wanted to giggle at the bewilderment they must be experiencing—damaged motorcycle, but no marks on any nearby trees. I did love to confuse the humans, especially those who thought they held authority over me.

  "I had a mishap, yes. Did you find my bike?"

  "Yes, and Mister McCord and Doctor Rial were kind enough to identify it as yours. You do know there's a fine for abandoning vehicles in public forest land?"

  "I wasn't aware. If you'll give me a chance, Officer, I'll have it removed today." I gave him my most winning smile with a little something extra behind it.

  He grinned back, his eyes just a tad out of focus. "Yes, yes, ah, that would be fine. Just remove it today."

  "Reine," Gabriel practically growled. I turned down the intensity of my smile.

  "Thank you for your help, Officer," I said. He tipped his hat and walked to his vehicle, where he sat, presumably filling out some sort of reports. Humans couldn't get by without their paperwork. No wonder the trees hated them.

  "Was that necessary?" Gabriel asked. "And what the hell happened?"

  I surmised I wouldn't be getting rid of him and Selene that quickly, so I stepped aside for them to come in. I'd gone decades without anyone coming into my cottage but me, and now I'd been invaded twice in two days. I couldn't say I liked the new pattern.

  Sir Raleigh trotted out from the bedroom, where he'd darted under the bed when the constable had knocked on the door. Brave guard cat, he was not. I half-hoped he'd arch and hiss at the two werewolves—mostly for the adorable humor—but he didn't. He trotted over to them, sniffed their hands, and with a show of true feline snobbery, turned his back on them, lifted his tail, and pranced to me.

  "Well, then," Selene said. She sounded amused, not offended. Too bad.

  I picked up Sir Raleigh. "I believe it's time for breakfast," I said, hoping they'd take the hint to leave.

  "Breakfast sounds excellent," Gabriel said. "What are we having?"

  I huffed at him. "Unless you're interested in cat food, nothing." I did glance at my kettle.

  "Tea is fine," Gabriel said. "I'll get it started for you."

  "You will do no such thing." I fed the cat then put on water for tea. While the electric kettle—a convenience I would miss when I returned to Faerie—heated, I crossed my arms and gave Gabriel and Selene what I hoped would be an effectively stern look. Well, sterner than Kestrel's expression the evening before. That reminded me—Gabriel was keeping something from me. I hated when people deceived me.

  "Can we please dispense with the games?" I asked. "I have a lot to do before we leave tomorrow. Why are you here?"

  Gabriel started to say something, but Selene placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Because we were worried about you. They found your bike about an hour ago. We thought something terrible might have happened." It should be noted she did not appear to be distressed at the thought.

  "You were worried about me?" I asked her.

  "I was," she asserted. "The bike looks bad, Reine. It looks like you wrapped it around a tree."

  Although Heather was just a machine, a pang of remorse stabbed through my chest.

  "But no damage to the tree," Gabriel added with an arched eyebrow. "What are you playing at?"

  "You have room to talk," I spat back. "What are you keeping from me, Mister Werewolf?"

  The kettle beeped, signaling its successful boiling of water. In spite of my typical delight in making situations more complicated, I thought it would be nice if more things could be that simple and straightforward.

  Gabriel and Selene exchanged a look, one of those unspoken couple communications that made me feel less connected from the human race than I already did. Fae could do that, although in our case, when needed, we could transfer words to one another's minds. The humans called it telepathy. We referred to it as secret conversation.

  I hadn't had a secret conversation in centuries. I busied myself with making tea so I couldn't pay too much attention to the ache of grief and loneliness that welled up in my chest.

  "I'm waiting," I said.

  A forceful exhale preceded, "All right, who told you? Fucking Max?"

  Oooh, Gabriel must be in a snit if he was cursing.

  "I have ways of knowing things," I said and handed him a cup. "Tea will be ready in a few minutes."

  "Fairies have tea kettles and pots?" Selene asked.

  "I could wave my hand and make it appear," I replied, "but t
his uses less of my energy. Cream and sugar?"

  "Yes, please," she said, and the politeness of her response made me recall she came from the American South. Interesting.

  "So what do you need to tell me?" I tried again. I didn't compel him like I had the constable—probably couldn't considering he was a lycanthrope and therefore had a stubborn mind—but I wasn't about to reveal his advantage to him.

  "Fine," Gabriel said with a sigh—resigned, this time. "The head of the Shadow Project—that's what they're calling the effort to root out the leak—asked for you specifically to come. He said your unique talents and training would be invaluable, although he didn't give any more detail than that."

  Good doggie. "And why didn't you want to tell me this?"

  Gabriel ran a hand through his curly brown hair. "Because I didn't want you to get in the way of our investigation. You're not exactly known for subtlety."

  "Sheesh, a couple of rough healing spells—necessarily rough, I should add—and a girl gets a reputation." I blew across the top of the tea's steaming surface. I drank mine black so I could watch for any signs and symbols that might appear. This morning some murky figures floated in and out of view, but nothing firm. Nothing to satisfy my curiosity. "Why do you think he wants me there?"

  "That's the other thing," Gabriel said. "I don't know. I don't even know how he knows about you."

  "And you're sure?" I asked. "You didn't tell anyone about yours or Max's healing spells last summer, did you?"

  Gabriel shook his head. "No, but he may be guessing. The Institute has been reporting the results of its trials to the CPDC—Center for Paranormal Disease Control—and they're aware Max is using blood magic. The risks for that are well-known, as is the necessary training, which only the Fae can provide, for handling it safely."

  "So perhaps they know you have a Fae on board, but not whom."

  "There's still the princess part," Selene pointed out. "Wait, you're a princess?"

  I allowed my shoulders to slump. Not this again. I needed that tea to kick in. "In a sense, yes. I'm a granddaughter of the queen, but not in line for the throne. Well, not first in line. That would be my mother, and my father was a humble warrior, not nobility, so it's a long shot at best." I didn't add that my exile made it nigh impossible. Hopefully after this adventure was over, that wouldn't be an issue. I ignored the squirm of doubt in my chest.