Shadowed Fire (Veil of Midnight Book 1)

by A. Vers

  Blasted Hallow.

  Fent is little more than a ghost town with an Inn, two stores, and a lot of drinking and loud noises as we near. A heavy set man, with solid black eyes, veers too close to us at the town’s edge, and I shove him back.

  His face turns green before he vomits into the bushes nearby.

  “Charming,” Chol mutters from between Nix and myself. I can only nod as the sour scent of bile turns my stomach.

  We slip past the guard towers and head deeper into the small city. Torches line the roadways, the little flames adding to the moonlight brighter now that there is magick to sustain the illusion. A few more drunkards stumble around us. They lean against posts and rails, disoriented and wobbly. Even a lady of fortune, or two, walks along the old path. But there are a lot fewer beings than I expect for a convergence town.

  And it’s only when we near the very last street, that the hum of any sort of magick filters through my shields.

  The rhythmic buzz is like a roar inside my head. It dips and wanes, coming and going in bursts that seem--off somehow. Too fast but also not fast enough. And twisted.

  Wrong.

  I peer around, searching the dimness. “Do you two hear that?”

  Nix glances back at me. “Hear what?”

  My head cocks, listening. “I think… I think it’s the convergence.”

  Chol’s eyes widen. “Sayah, you can hear it?”

  I motion him to quiet and ease around them, following the roar.

  The street dead ends into a corner of brick. My very insides tremor with the tainted power, quivering until nausea flares. Teeth grinding and stomach in knots, I stumble forward.

  And stop.

  A long corridor of pitch-black stone spans the distance ahead. Like a tunnel devoured by the dark. Here the illusions and torches seem unable to penetrate the shadows, unable to brighten the gloom. It’s why I didn’t see the blasted thing until I was right on top of it.

  I step closer, fingers trailing along the shockingly cool brick. The shadows seem to loosen from the walls, gliding over the rough path to beckon me closer. Calling me. I take a step into the pitch abyss.

  Something tugs me back.

  I turn to find Nix incredibly close. His sword is out, tip pointed down the passage, and his veil down. A grim expression twists his face. His lips move but I can’t hear a thing.

  “What?” I ask loudly. The noise of the world finally refills my ears with a pop.

  His eyes flow over me. “You started humming, and it was like—You seemed like…” He looks at Chol for help.

  “Like you were someone else,” Chol finishes, silver eyes gunmetal grey with worry and the dimness around us.

  I bite my lip, peering between them. “I don’t understand.”

  They exchange a long glance.

  “Whatever is down there…is not good for you. Okay?” Nix asks. “Let me go down. Alone. You stay with Chol.”

  “But—”

  He shakes his head and releases me. One gloved hand tugs his veil back over the lower half of his face. “Stay here, Sayah. I mean it.”

  I fold my arms in defiance, but remain rooted in place as he darts down the long tunnel.

  Chol’s heat and his sweet scent flows over me a moment before his shoulder brushes mine. “What did you hear?” he asks.

  I try to pull the sound from memory, to give a voice to the oddness. “It was like a buzzing—growing and fading in my ears. I couldn’t hear anything but the humming.”

  His expression grows weary. He turns back to the tunnel and his friend who is somewhere inside that impenetrable dark.

  We wait in silence. My ears strain for any shouts or returning steps. And after what seems like forever, they sound.

  Hard, pounding, and headed right toward us.

  I grab Chol and haul him around the wall as Nix barrels into the space we were in moments before. Midnight fire covers his body, and his vibrant hair is tousled as he wrenches the veil and hood down. “The damn convergence is trashed,” he gasps.

  My heart plummets into my boots. “What?”

  He inhales, fast and heavy. “The damn line is in shambles. The whole transit is caved in and there is debris everywhere.”

  “Then…why were you running?” Chol asks.

  Nix’s eyes burn. “There is something down there. Something old. Angry. It’s like a wisp of it though. A piece. It called the shadows from the damn walls.” He shakes his head and his shadowed flames snuff out. “It was all I could do to get away before they grabbed me.”

  My mild unease turns to fear. “Like the ones at Midnight.”

  He looks at me, jaw rippling.

  I don’t need him to answer aloud, I can see the truth of my words in his eyes. Whatever came to Midnight came through this convergence.

  “So how do we get topside now?” I ask.

  “There is another ley point. In Hemlock,” Nix says, stowing his sword. “It will take days to get there. Even by coach.”

  Chol groans. Nix seems to second the emotion as he gestures for us to follow him back towards town.

  I pause at the edge of the path, eyes going back to the tunnel.

  Pulling some of my precious energy, I weave carefully, methodically. The drain is immediate, but I throw the orb at the dark, yawning hole. The very earth shakes and heaves, pitching this way and that. As one, the tunnel walls buckle. They cave inward in a cloud of dust and debris.

  Wiping my hands, I turn to find both men watching me. “What?” I ask. “You said it took everything you had to get away. I’m not risking anyone else.”

  Nix throws his hands up and walks off.

  Chol and I fall in behind him. But oddly, none of us feel the need to speak.

  First the dark tendrils at the embassy. Now this? What the hell is it?

  For that matter, why is it after Chol?

  And why did the leader of those bloodthirsty mercs believe Nix killed his wife and child?

  My eyes dip to the Hallow as Chol and I catch up, and any chance of uttering that question dies on my lips.

  Nix paces in agitated lines in front of the narrow departure booth, his breathing only slightly erratic. The soft light of a nearby lamppost makes him look even more sinister than normal. I find myself staring at him as my unease grows.

  Hallows are one of the oldest organizations of hired killers to walk any plain. But Nix has been with Chol for four years, since he was eighteen.

  So how old was he when he killed an innocent woman and child? How many lives has he taken in his seemingly short years?

  He draws in one final deep breath before glancing at me. “Can you act normal long enough to get tickets?”

  My eyes narrow and my teeth grind. I’m the problem?

  “Why?” I ask.

  “We’ll draw less attention as passengers.”

  Says the heartless killer? Oddly, guilt wells in me at the mean thought.

  I huff and stalk to the depot window on the side of the old trade post in answer.

  The aged woman behind the glass barely looks up as I approach. “Can I help you?” she says with obvious boredom.

  I pull a touch of amhara behind my eyes, noting the rich purple flow of her aura.

  Delphix. Little to no actual magick, but the body visible is one hell of a glamour. I try not to stare.

  Or flinch.

  “Three tickets to…” I quickly peruse the board behind her, noting the nearest towns. But Hemlock is nowhere on the list. “Emerald City, please.”

  She pulls out several sheafs of paper and a massive wooden stamp. “Standard or economy?”

  I shift. “What’s the difference in price?”

  She looks up at that. Her chin jerks to the slim chain on my neck, glass like eyes hungry. “Is that real silver?”

  I nod.

  She licks her lips. “Then that’s the price difference.”

  Standard would offer more protection and heavier warding. A chance to rest.

  Damn it.


  I reach up and unclasp the simple strand and drop it in the tray below the window. Her thick meaty hands dig at it ravenously. She shoves the tickets to me at the same time she drops the chain into her widening mouth.

  The skin to each side of her jaw splits and her lips break in two. I watch the chain disappear as I back away, papers clutched to my chest. Gods.

  With a final smack of happiness, she leans back, rubs her engorged stomach under the glamour, and sighs.

  I turn on my heel and run.

  Back at the booth, Nix leans against the edge of the depot wall, and Chol rests beside him as the bigger guard blocks the Prince from view.

  Nix glances at me. “Did you get the—”

  I shove the tickets into his chest armor and drop beside Chol on the narrow bench. He opens his mouth.

  “Please god don’t ask,” I say, voice tremulous and edged as I stare straight ahead. “Please.”

  He clamps his lips closed with a quick glance at Nix.

  I prop my head up on the side of the booth, willing my heart to calm.

  It’s not that the woman really scared me. It’s that I knew what she was and still wasn’t prepared. I risk a peek at my traveling companions.

  They have traveled all over, running and hiding from whatever is hunting them.

  Me?

  I’ve never even been out of the manor. Until now. And I may be in way over my head.

  Ѻ

  The magick powered coaches arrive soon enough. The round globes of light span in a long line; bright bubbles of opaque glass attached one after another like a human train. Dimly lit holes open in each one. Soft glows illuminate the warded pathways beneath each coach in reds, blues, and purples. Though there does not appear to be any other passengers, I lead Nix and Chol to the farthest one for standard transport and climb into the dusky interior.

  Padded benches ring the outer walls of the coach. The fabric is well tended, and plush. A wide window sits across from the door, and though no air flows through it, it is open onto the night outside. I drop my bag next to me and try not to stare at everything.

  A soft pulse of light emanates from the table in the center of the carriage. The jewel is as big as my hand and a crimson so dark it’s like dried blood. Nix and Chol wave their tickets over it and I follow their lead.

  The motion is fake casual, and I pray they don’t see through it.

  “Why Emerald City?” Chol asks while we wait for departure.

  I shrug. “Hemlock wasn’t on the board. It’s supposed to have a high population of humans and others, right?” He nods. “Best chance to blend until we can get another transport out to Hemlock.”

  “Wicked is in Emerald City,” Nix says, almost like an afterthought.

  Chol stiffens across from me.

  I glance between them. “What?”

  Chol shakes a little, like a dog will when its fur is wet. “Nothing,” he says with a small smile.

  Is that one of his tells? The carefree smile?

  I don’t push, but continue to study both of them in silence. The steady hum of magick builds to a low buzz and the coaches start off into the dark.

  Though my pulse picks up speed, I can’t help but be more excited than scared.

  My entire life has been spent in Midnight. It’s home. But for the last few years it has felt like a prison, the emotion only made worse as I grew as a teenager and the fights between my parents worsened.

  Now, I’m eighteen. Nineteen in a few months. Standing on the cusp of adulthood with two of the most heartbreakingly beautiful men to ever cross Midnight’s threshold, and we are heading into the first big city I have ever seen.

  I try to temper it with caution. To remind myself of the danger that is, no doubt, right behind us. I even try reminding myself of Chol’s magick and Nix’s darker side. But it’s hard not to shift a bit with that new spark of adventure.

  As we ride, Nix and Chol converse in low tones, speaking over the assassins and their appearance. I casually listen in as I pull my jewelry from the jumbled mess that is my bag, sorting what I have to keep and what can be bartered or sold if required.

  “How do those work, exactly?” I peer at Chol as he watches me divide each strand and bangle. And I realize they have both been silently observing me for some time.

  My cheeks burn. “Ummm, well, stones hold energy, right?” I ask. “So I’ve spent years collecting pieces I like and channeling every extra bit of power into them I could manage.”

  “You need to charge them again.” Nix’s voice is mild, measured.

  I shrug. “It would help, yeah.”

  “How long would it take you to do that?”

  My head tilts. “In one go?” Nix nods. “Three days. Maybe more. Even then, my body would be depleted and that takes longer to fuel than the stones.”

  They exchange a long look. “It didn’t take that long last night,” Chol says gently.

  I bristle and shove the jewelry back into my bag. “I know Midnight’s land. It recognizes me as part of the power that fuels it. This far from the embassy… It would take time to establish a bond strong enough to pull energy from anything, let alone enough to feed my body or my power.”

  Warm, tan fingers alight over my rapidly shoving hands. I still. “Then we figure out another way,” Chol says gently.

  I gulp and look up.

  He has leaned over the low table, the blood red stone casting highlights over his skin and hair. It’s garish and sexy in one go.

  “Okay,” I breathe.

  He offers me a real smile and brings my knuckles to his lips. The kiss is sweet and more about comfort than seduction. My lips tremble.

  Nix presses deeper into his side of the bench, drawing my eyes even as his vibrant irises remain locked outside the window.

  The hard set of his jaw screams worry. Anger.

  I tell myself that everything will be fine and we will keep Chol safe. I tell myself that I can do this and keep my secret and heart in the process.

  And if I tell myself it enough…maybe it will be true.

  Chapter 10

  I gaze out the coach window as the never ending night rolls by. But it’s hard to make out much beyond pitch hills and the spiky tiers of half-dead trees.

  Chol slumbers across from me, his head propped on his bag and his lips parted. Nix remains alert next to him, one arm on his knee and a single slim finger tapping the scanner crystal between us. The light grows and dims in waves.

  “And here I thought you genuinely disliked light,” I quip after the millionth cycle.

  He rolls his eyes and drops his hand into his lap. “I don’t dislike light… It’s just harder to blend into it.” His voice is still a dulcet growl. Not as hard as earlier, but not as mild as it was this morning.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  He turns his vibrant gaze to me, but remains quiet.

  “You don’t have to pretend, Nix,” I say, as gentle as I can. “It has to be hard on just you—”

  “You don’t know anything about me,” he snaps.

  I still. “Okay. Then help me to.”

  His arms fold and he goes back to staring out the window. Silence falls around us as I gaze at the hard line of his jaw. It ripples even as I watch, flexing and blanching his russet skin and the darker wash of stubble.

  When he remains quiet for a long time, I lay down on my bench and prop my head on my bag.

  “Last night was too close,” he breathes. His voice is so quiet, that for a moment I wonder if I imagined it. “So was this morning.”

  I stop moving to peer over the low table at him. “I know.”

  He continues to stare out at the constant dark. “I never sensed whatever it was that ate my wards and trip lines like they were snacks. If you hadn’t woken up...”

  I sit up a little. “He’s fine, Nix.”

  His hands mottle where they press into the muscle of his arms. “I know, but—”

  “No buts.” He glares at me, and I try to remind mys
elf that angry Nix is not something I want to tangle with again. “He’s fine,” I say again, softer this time. “We’re headed topside. You can keep him safe. And I can help.”

  “You’re an ambassador, Sayah. Not a warrior.”

  I bristle. “I can still protect him. Just like you can. Last night should’ve proven that.”

  One shoulder shrugs, raising the pommel of his short sword. The gesture is dismissive and offhanded.

  My arms cross, mirroring him. “Are you done being a jerk?” I broach.

  His scowl deepens.

  I raise a hand. “Whenever you’re done...”

  His mouth opens and closes before he finally settles on a brow raise.

  I guess he’s not used to someone standing up to him.

  “Look, you’re a warrior first and foremost. A Hallow. And that’s fine,” I add, trying to gentle my words. “But so am I, in my own way.” The amendment makes him shift more in my direction.

  “An ambassador in the Void is more than just someone who greets guests. We have to keep the peace for all parties involved. It’s why all embassies are so heavily warded. It nullifies most magick.” He continues to appraise me in silence. “We are versed in most forms of combat, and are the first line of defense for every guest that crosses our threshold.”

  His nod is gruff. “Midnight was highly recommended. It didn’t take long for us to understand why.”

  The compliment is roundabout, but I’ll take it.

  “Chol is your charge first and foremost,” I start carefully. “And you’ve made it pretty obvious you will protect him with your life. Regardless. But maybe I can help?”

  “I don’t—"

  “He doesn’t see you as a mere guard,” I say fast. “He looks at you as a friend more than a protector. You know that, right?”

  Nix’s jaw ripples again. “I know.” He glances down at the obsidian bracers over his forearms. “I tried to keep a distance… To keep him safe from me.”

  I search the side of his face. “Are you saying you would hurt him?”

  He gives another half-assed shrug. “You saw earlier. When I fight… I can no longer differentiate between friend and foe in the heat of battle. It’s been like that for years. Erem says its normal, part of the conditioning. Hallows don’t fight in groups, after all.” I nod, though, he’s not looking at me. “But Chol wants to fight at my side. To help me defend him. I may have told him that to let him fight would be a breach in my honor. It’s the only thing the Hallows have not taken from me. If I hurt him, my honor would be gone.”