A Shiver of Shadows

by Hunter J. Skye

  “Nay, naught oft. That kind of magic has all but left the land, but she will help in other ways, if she feels the inclination.” He pointed at a dark hole yawning from the tangled greenery of a hillock I’d barely noticed. “There is the well.”

  I pushed at the trailing vines and bent to inspect the aperture of blackness. Three lichen-covered steps descended into a grotto of dripping stone walls. As I stared into the shadowed portal, my eyes adjusted. I made out a shallow basin of water formed naturally in the jutting rock of the hill. Its curved walls were festooned with watercress, moss, and long, dangling swags of water flowers.

  I backed out of the well’s entrance and leaned against the tree. The only cloth I possessed comprised my trousers and socks. I pulled the cuff of my pants from the top of one of my boots and yanked on the seam. The threading ripped. Then, I tore a thin swatch of dark fabric and tied it to the nearest branch.

  “Picture the place ye wish to go. Do naught think of yer woman. Think of the church,” the fey instructed, so I bent my head and visualized the city of Canterbury as I’d seen it in my younger years. A Tudor town with a meandering river, quaint bridges, and cobblestone streets. No doubt it had changed quite a bit, but the castle would still be there, and the Norman Cathedral would be standing in roughly the same state. I pictured the Gothic structure of worship in my mind. Somewhere within its walls a holy well flowed with ancient waters. I’d not seen the place, but I did my best to picture it in my thoughts. An image of a font with sparkling clear water unfurled before my mind’s eye.

  “Now, tidy up.” He pointed at my disheveled hair. I’d lost the tie Melisande had given me in the drop from the plane. I ran my fingers through my dark, shoulder-length hair, and wiped what dirt I could see from my bare chest and arms. “She enjoys a handsome man.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Where the Sparks Ended and the Stars Began

  Melisande

  I laughed at the way my bare feet skimmed along the cobblestone paths. We flowed, we glided, we rippled along the ember-bright night. Celene held my hand like a child. Her cool fingers clung to mine, and we swung our arms back and forth for the pure joy of the breeze across our skin. Mephos was a tickling thought between us, behind us. His hide-and-seek eyes flickered at the crackling rim of my senses. I laughed at the teasing tendrils of his smile. I was wound up in them. I was a precious thing they’d found on the ground. A sparkling secret hidden in the night sky, and they would protect me accordingly. They would cherish me. I was where I should be.

  The glinting gold of Bertrand’s hair bobbed and swung before me. We followed him like a siren to the sea. I kept my eyes on his fluttering shirt until we ran out of land. The city sizzled at our backs, and the waves before us hissed in response. We plunged onto the sand and swam through the swooning silhouettes.

  Ahead of us, the moon rose from the glassy sea like a bone goddess. She licked the beach with her cratered tongue, whipping the revelers to a frenzied pitch. This was what it meant to be alive.

  I breathed in the bonfires and blew out sparks. We laughed. We danced. We kissed the craving night. Even Bertrand had found a way to slip the anchor of his memories. He embraced the bright, burning now. His smile was heart-shattering. Our bodies molded together. I folded in his fingers. I rolled in Mephos’s mouth. I was born again in Celene’s embrace. We danced until I couldn’t tell where the sparks ended and the stars began. We existed somewhere in-between.

  I fell to the sand and let it all wash over me. The silhouettes squirmed and leapt to the beat of the night’s thrumming heart.

  All but one.

  The woman with the question in her eyes hovered at the edge of the firelight. I remembered her from the dance club even though that must have been a hundred years ago.

  What was wrong with me?

  She scanned the crowd with furtive glances, but always her gaze returned to me. She took a sip from a slender can and tipped her chin toward the water’s edge.

  I checked around me for my constant companions, but they’d melted into the swaying circle of another bonfire. Their laughter laced through my mind. I felt the pull to join them, but my staggering heart needed a moment.

  The carob-skinned beauty with the spiraling, shoulder-length hair broke ranks with her fellow pleasure seekers and slipped along the sand. She eyed me intently as she passed. I watched as she splashed into the shallow over-wash that rushed up the moonlit sand.

  I pushed to my knees and then my feet. No one tugged me back into the throng of dancers, so I took a wobbling step and then another. The smooth sand delivered me to the ocean’s edge, and I sank to my bottom so that the water could splash over my toes. I wondered where my shoes had gone.

  “Hola,” the woman chimed, and I looked up at her blurrily. Her voice was softer than I’d expected. Firelight played across her young face and buzzed through the electric coils of her hair. I had the distinct feeling my senses were confused.

  “Noche divertida.”

  “Sorry.” I collapsed backward and sprawled across the sand. “No hablo español.”

  “Oh. I was just saying ‘fun night.’ ” Her English accent suddenly turned her words into something regal. “You are having fun, right?”

  I stared at the woman for a moment while I thought of an answer. Her light-brown pants laced loosely up the sides of her legs to reveal a strip of skin just a little darker than the fabric. From my bleary distance, her sparkling silver top seemed to almost shine with its own light.

  “Yes!” I finally offered. “I mean no.” I laughed at my hazy confusion. “Maybe.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Are you having a good night?” I waved a finger in her direction.

  “Yes.” She took a sip from her can and saluted me with it. “But that’s because I’m not hanging out with vampires.”

  I blinked. I waited for the sound of drums and music and laughter to return, but all I could hear was a buzzing silence.

  “Excuse me, what?” I stared at the woman from the flat of my back.

  She looked back at the bonfires then down at me.

  “Vampires. They’re not good company. Trust me.”

  I laughed.

  She took another sip and looked out over the ocean.

  I struggled to a sitting position and shook my head.

  “It sounds like you’re saying vampires.” Maybe I was misunderstanding her accent.

  “Yeah, if you don’t know you’re with vampires, that might be a bad thing.” She nodded her head. I nodded my head too.

  “Yeah. Bad. Very bad.”

  Holy fuck.

  I started to say something but stopped. Then I tried again. “But vampires aren’t real.”

  Like ghosts weren’t real. Like hell gates weren’t real.

  She pressed her lips together and gave me a sideways glance. It was the kind of look you gave someone who was very sadly mistaken.

  A large wave crashed, pushing a sheet of warm water toward our feet. I pulled my toes away from the hissing sand. If I could think clearly, I’d have realized that the bottom had just dropped out of the night. My lurching heart skittered and thumped as my old friend, adrenaline, shot through my chest like quicksilver. Or maybe Rasmus had returned. The hairs on the back of my neck lifted.

  “Oh, God.” I placed my hands on either side of my face so my head wouldn’t explode. I knew they were a scary bunch. Rasmus was clearly something more than human. But…

  Vampires?

  “What…what do I do? I should, I should…” I had no idea what I should do, and that wasn’t like me.

  “You should probably leave,” she prompted.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  The young woman squinted at me.

  “So, if I were to say to you, ‘get off this beach right now before that collection of undead Eurotrash drains you of the liquid your body needs to survive,’ you’d say…?”

  “No.” I stared at her w
ide-eyed. “Oh, God, what’s happening?” Why wasn’t I fighting free of this situation? I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t weak.

  I’m not weak.

  Not anymore.

  “Those people took me from my home and brought me here. They won’t let me leave.” I looked down at my open hands. Frost danced along my skin in swirling fractals. All the ghosts we’d passed in the Gothic quarter—why hadn’t I harnessed them? Why hadn’t I touched them and made them solid? They could have helped me.

  “They must want you for a reason.” Her calm voice jumped an octave. She looked behind us nervously. “We should probably get you out of here.”

  “H-how do I know you’re not going to harm me?’

  “You want to stay with the vampires?”

  “No.”

  “Good girl.” She reached a hand out and helped me to my feet. “It’s probably just a compulsion spell. Do you have anything on you that belongs to them?” She scanned my tiny outfit. Everything I was wearing belonged to them.

  I shrugged. Was I supposed to strip nude? Then I remembered the garish bracelet. “This.” I lifted my wrist.

  “Woah. Are those real diamonds?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Take it off.”

  I reached a hand up and tugged on the clasp, but nothing happened. “It won’t come off.”

  “Here. Let me try.” She leaned in close enough for me to smell the vanilla scent of her hair. She pried at the clasp, but it didn’t budge. Then she yanked the sparkling band, but again, nothing happened.

  We both shot a fearful glance toward the bonfires.

  “That’s not coming off. At least not here.” Her shapely lips pulled sideways as she appeared to think something over. “You need a spell-breaker.”

  “A what now?”

  She blinked at me and shook her head, causing the cloud of spirals to shimmy around her face. The trance-like fog in my head invited me to touch the soft coils.

  “Oh, boy,” she mumbled. “They drugged you too.”

  “I think so.”

  “Vampires don’t usually rely on spells and drugs. Who are you?”

  “Who are you?”

  “Fine.” She gave me a flat look. “Let’s get you off this beach.”

  “I can’t.” The compulsion to return to my captors was growing stronger.

  “Not on your own. But if you don’t think about it and just let me guide you, we can do this.”

  “Why are you helping me?”

  The beautiful woman in her shining shirt gave me a curious look.

  “I’m a good Samaritan.” The caged expression on her face didn’t match her words. I eyed her as she took my hand and pulled me along the wet sand. “It’s a long story,” she added and that, I believed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  You seek to walk the wells.

  Grayford

  The spring was a constant dribbling leak of water that filled the sandy basin to a constant six inches of pure, clear water. Where it traveled after that, I could not tell.

  “Step in,” my fey guide instructed. I did as he told. The chill touch of the water woke my senses to the sights and smells and sounds in that hidden place. I combed my fingers through the spongy moss decorating the alcove. The fresh scent of green growing things filled my lungs.

  “Kneel.” The small man gestured to the basin. I folded my legs down into the tiny pool, and my ears filled with the trickling music of the water. Crisp watercress crunched beneath my hands as my knees found the fine powdery bottom of the well.

  “She comes.” My companion’s words blended with the birdsong. He reached into the grotto and extended his hand. “Colonel, is my debt fulfilled?”

  The drapery of vines swayed at the back of the shallow alcove, and one by one the tightly closed flowers sprang open.

  “Yes, friend. Your debt is fulfilled. Thank you.” A thread of intent between us snapped. I took his hand and gave it a small shake. He swept his hat from his head and pulled his pipe from its depths. “Good luck to ye.” He lit a tiny match and vanished.

  A cool touch from behind startled me. I whirled to meet a pair of fern green arms reaching from, what I’d thought was the back wall of the grotto. The curtain of flowering greenery parted, and emerald eyes caught the pale morning light.

  As a child, I’d been told cautionary tales about Jenny Greenteeth, Peg Powler, and the sultry Undine that led men to a secret pool only to drown them.

  “Welcome,” a watery voice dripped with feminine softness.

  My heart rattled my rib cage with its quickening beat. The green-skinned woman made no aggressive moves, so I kept my hands at my sides.

  “You are here for more than a blessing.” Her dulcet tones rippled through me. “You seek to walk the wells.”

  “Yes.”

  Her dewy face drew near. Chartreuse eyes glowed like polished gems as they studied me. Her gaze darted over my face then slipped down my chest. Juniper lips curved into a tantalizing smile.

  “No human has asked this in long years. You have roads, and automobiles, and trains to transport you. Make use of one of those.”

  “Please—” My fey companion’s warning not to press her came back to me. “I must find a way to the Order of Druids. A way they will not expect.”

  “Druids?” Her voice dropped like a stone into shadowed depths. “What business have you with the Brown Robes?”

  The constant leak of water ceased. The last drops of crystal water fell from the frilly moss and echoed to silence. The birdsong just beyond the well stilled.

  “They have taken someone I love captive.” The desperate words tumbled out of me. My breath echoed in the sudden quietude. The Maiden’s face took on a stony look. Ancient eyes regarded me from a pitiless place. No doubt, her perspective on human concerns was far from anything I could surmise.

  “Love,” she whispered, and the world outside stopped to listen. The word slipped like a spell from her lips. “You speak of love.”

  I nodded, hypnotized.

  “Come.” She reached forest green hands toward me. Water rained down into the basin again. The birds resumed their morning chatter. Fingers as strong as vines fastened on my arms, and the elemental magic of Cornwall swallowed me whole.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Enter if your faith be true.

  Melisande

  The nameless woman led me down the wet sand in a breathless bid for freedom. We’d made it maybe twenty yards when she stopped suddenly. I ran into her back, and we almost stumbled into the warm over-wash.

  “Get in front of me.”

  I blinked.

  “Now,” she barked and yanked me ahead of her. I looked over my shoulder as she positioned herself carefully, then held very still.

  I wobbled on uncertain feet.

  “Hold still,” she ordered, and I did my best to keep my pendulous body rigid. The roll of the waves, the wild rollicking of the dancers called to me. I wanted to sway, and whirl, and gyrate. I wanted to get free of my captors as well, but as my mind fought for escape, my body yearned to obey the command to skip and prance and gamble with my very life for another minute in the frolicking embrace of creatures I couldn’t even comprehend.

  “Just wait,” she whispered calmly. We stood there long enough for the waves to sink our feet at least six inches in the sand.

  “Okay.” She sprung into motion. She squeezed my hand as we broke from the sucking embrace of the sand and tumbled toward the crowd at the south end of the beach. There was more light shining in from the street at that end, but there were more people too.

  We dove into the crush of bodies, bumping and pirouetting our way to the far side of the melee. We emerged from the press of people in a fizzing cloud of fireworks and smoke. Sparks fountained on every side as drummers pounded out a pulverizing beat. We tripped up a set of cement steps and flew down the boardwalk toward a shadowy marina. High above the darkened docks, goliath hotels fixed their modern eyes on the rolling sea. Balconies
and rooftops hissed and sputtered and crackled with celebration.

  With each step we took, the shackle around my wrist eased its urgent pull.

  “Can we stop for a minute?” I gasped as we spun around another corner.

  “One more block and we’ll be in the Barri Gotic. There’s a place where they won’t find you.” She forged onward, and I did my best to keep up. We left the marina behind and had just made it down the wide street bordering the beach when she stopped us again. Her hazel eyes grew distant as if she were listening to something only dogs could hear. I watched her closely as I waited for the presence to flood her face with expression again. It happened quickly.

  “We won’t make it in time, so I need you to do exactly as I say.” She clutched me by the tops of my arms then shoved me into a small convenience store that blazed white with artificial lighting. She dragged me down a narrow aisle, past products with unfamiliar labels, toward a dead-faced man in a turban. His mottled eyes followed us as the woman pushed past his small counter.

  “Santuario,” she whispered to the man, and he nodded stoically. Then she turned to me.

  “Don’t stop. Don’t look around. Just keep moving.”

  “What?” I asked as her hand closed over mine once more, but we were already moving again. We hurtled down a dark, slender hall to an ancient rat-chewed wooden door with symbols painted on it in a dark, drooling liquid. Something about that viscous fluid made my skin crawl. The dingy walls pressed close, and suddenly the hallway felt as though it was swallowing me whole.

  “Wait.” My voice wavered. “Just wait a second.” Something big was on the other side of that door. Something I wasn’t ready for. It peeled away my thoughts. It knew I was coming.

  “This is a mistake.” Not a bad tattoo kind of mistake. This was the kind of mistake that would burn through my being. It would hollow me out. I’d already rebuilt myself once. I couldn’t go through that kind of stripping again. “Whatever’s in there…it isn’t for me to see.”

  “Then close your eyes.” She yanked the door open and pulled me through.

  Breathe.

  Barcelona had secrets.