Something in the Shadows

by Elle Beaumont

  The ground beneath our feet began to rise with each step and my heart hurt along with my face at the effort. If I didn’t die tonight, tomorrow my muscles would make me wish I had.

  “Keep running!” Bryce pulled me along when I stumbled. I didn’t have the air or energy to yell back at him that my body was through and I was giving this my all. I mean, I didn’t want to die.

  The air behind my head whistled as the rain lightened. A tree just to my right a few steps back went down, letting me know how close I’d come to losing my head. How could the guy see without a head? Why couldn’t he run into trees?

  A shriek left my mouth as my foot slipped in the mud. My hand ripped from Bryce’s hold as I fell down an embankment on our right. He called my name, but I kept falling. He needed to run now.

  Saplings and bigger trees hit me on my way down until a large tree found my stomach and knocked the breath from me. That tree was the one to stop me. Everything hurt and stung from the fall and impact. There’d be no more running for me. Headless’ squishy feet in the mud were making their way down the hill to me. Why couldn’t he fall in the mud and slide down the hill too? He didn’t even have a head!

  “El! El, get up!” Bryce’s voice cracked with terror, but I couldn’t bring myself to do more than roll over onto my back at his words. That hurt enough, but I wanted to see Simmering Simmons one more time before I died.

  Headless blocked my view, though. He stood above me, ax in hand. This was it. My bad luck had hit its peak and my time had come.

  A thump registered in my ears before the sight of the arrow sticking out of Headless’ chest did. Someone had shot the monster with an arrow, but didn’t they know it would do no good? Even the sword my father had given me had done nothing to slow Headless down when Bryce had impaled him. It was a nice try, but I was still a dead woman. The sun hadn’t risen yet.

  “El? El!” Bryce knelt at my side. Why was he here? He should be running.

  Headless grabbed at the arrow as he flickered. Flickered? My injuries were worse than I’d feared, or the pain made me hallucinate.

  “Eloise?” Bryce touched my face with the tips of his fingers. His gentleness took my attention from a staggering Headless to the handsome man.

  “Bryce,” I gasped, but cried out when my ribs screamed in pain.

  “Oh, El. Quiet, beautiful. Don’t speak. We’ll find a way to get you out of here and find some help.” He looked around. “Hello? Who’s out there?”

  “I’m here, kid.” An older man with a wooden bow walked into my view. “How is she? That was quite the tumble.”

  “She’s alive, but I don’t know if she’s broken anything. Ribs maybe?” Bryce looked down on me. “I’ll get you out of here alive, El. I promise.”

  The older man, his white hair reflecting in the moon’s light now that the storm had passed, frowned at the monster. Who was he? Where had he come from?

  “Pick the girl up and follow me. The phantom won’t stay down forever. The herbs on the arrow won’t last more than an hour. Even now, he’s still dangerous.”

  Bryce lifted me to place an arm behind my shoulders and I hissed. “Sorry, El. The curse or whatever lasts until the sun rises. Then he’ll be gone. At least that’s the impression we’ve been given.”

  The old man nodded. “Good. The herbs will last that long. Come.”

  Bryce hefted me into his arms. Poor man. I wasn’t light. The pain pushed me in and out of awareness as the two men made their way through the woods. At first, noises behind us indicated Headless wanted to follow, but he couldn’t keep up for once.

  Whinnies when we reached a flatter path indicated the demon horse was near and my fear spiked.

  “Oh settle down, you creature of darkness, or I’ll put another arrow in you.” The old man’s grumble gave way to relief inside me and I relaxed into Bryce again. “If I were young like the two of you, I would have caught up to you sooner. You’ve been all over the Ranch.”

  “Yes, sir. We even tried to leave, but the creature and his horse are much faster than a normal horse.”

  “Black magic will do that to you. Who created this beast?”

  “A magician, or that’s the role he played tonight at the magic show. One of my dad’s employees hired him to kill me. Eloise had the unfortunate experience to be looped into that with me.” Bryce kissed my forehead again. “I’m so sorry, El.”

  “We’ll take the girl to my place and I’ll do my best to fix her up. She’ll need a hospital too when the sun comes up.”

  “I’ll make sure she gets the care she needs.”

  They continued to talk on their way to Hugh’s place. Turned out, Hugh was a druid. He worked in herbs, plants, salts, crystals, oils, and more. If Headless hadn’t shown up, I would have continued to doubt real magic existed, but witches, yeah, they were real. Or wizards in the magician’s case. Either way, they weren’t all bad. Just the ones who dealt in dark magic like Headless’ creator. Druids weren’t magical in the same way as witches. They worked with the land more instead of through spells.

  Hugh also worked at the Ranch. His job was to oversee and manage the stables and trails. I wanted to give the man a hug for coming after us. Five minutes later and I’d be without my head.

  Warmth brushed against my skin when Hugh invited Bryce and I into his small home behind the lodge and stables.

  “Lay her here.”

  Bryce lay me on something hard and flat but didn’t leave my side. His hand stayed in mine as noises from Hugh’s movements came from around the room.

  “This will smell bad, but it’ll help the pain.” Hugh administered something onto my nose wound, and it did stink. I just didn’t have the energy to care. While the pain lessened, it never went away.

  Next, Hugh applied a concoction that would fight off infection. All the while, Bryce stayed by my side talking to me. My muddled brain couldn’t figure out what he was saying, but the tone was comforting.

  “The sun will be up soon.” Hugh spoke after he’d been quiet for some time when he’d finished bandaging me up. “I’ll head over to the lodge and do what I can to fill in what happened to the magician and to you guys. If anyone asks, some crazy guy attacked you in the night along with his friends. They also drugged everyone at the lodge.”

  “The police will believe that?”

  Hugh snorted. “There’s a druid on the force. He’ll let the story by. I’ll also call an ambulance for Ms. Eloise.”

  “Bryce.” My mouth was dry. Water would have been nice, but I’d likely choke on it. “Thank you.”

  “I didn’t do anything but almost get you killed.” He pushed some hair out of my face. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of, El.”

  The pain had become manageable and my body, exhausted now that the no sleeping spell had worn off with the sun, felt heavy and tired. I fell asleep to Bryce’s lips on my forehead. I could get used to that.

  When I woke, a beeping noise greeted me along with a smell that made my nose crinkle. A very antiseptic smell. The memories came back fast, and I groaned as the pain set in too. I was in a hospital.

  “El?” I cracked one eye open to see Zoe beside me in a chair. She didn’t wear makeup, her hair wasn’t done to perfection, and her face was splotchy from crying. Yet, my bestie still looked like the most beautiful woman on the planet. How unfair was that?

  The lights made my eye water, so I closed my eye again but gave Zoe a tired smile. I didn’t even have the energy yet to say anything.

  “The doctor says you have some cracked ribs and a fractured nose, but other than that you’ll be fine. I can’t believe you and Simmer got caught up with that guy who demolished your car. No one could believe what he and his gang did to Bryce’s SUV. Rumor is, it was some guy mad at Simmer’s dad who hired them. Can you believe that?”

  Yes, I could. Even if I hadn’t heard Nick’s confession to Bryce’s dad. People had killed or had people killed for less.

  “Bryce and his dad are in the waiting room an
d your parents are on the way. I almost called him Simmer to his face, so I’ve been trying to call him Mr. Simmons or Bryce now to keep from messing up again. That would have been so embarrassing.”

  I laughed but stopped right away when my ribs flared up.

  “Sorry.” Zoe’s apology carried a wince with it. “Do you want to see Bryce?”

  I managed a small nod. The door opened and closed a few seconds later. I must have nodded off again because a large hand in mine brought me back to reality.

  “Zoe said you’re awake. Did you fall back asleep on me?”

  Again, I smiled, but this time, I forced words out. “Almost.”

  “I won’t keep you awake long. You need your sleep. Plus, your parents just arrived and Zoe’s talking to them, so that only gives me a few minutes with you.”

  I forced my eyes open, blinking against the light in the room. Bryce had dark circles under his eyes and a bruise on his cheek. His hair was tousled, and he had the nerve to look hot that way.

  “You need sleep.” My voice was deep and gravely, but he only laughed at me.

  “I look that great, huh?”

  “More than great.”

  Bryce reached out and cupped my cheek. “That was by far the worst first date I’ve ever taken a girl on before.”

  “I didn’t like Halloween before. Now, I hate it.”

  He smiled. “What do you say we try this again sometime, only we watch Christmas movies and cuddle on the couch?”

  I smiled with a sigh. “My kinda date.”

  Bryce chuckled and leaned in. This time, his lips brushed mine instead of my head and if Bryce’s gentle kiss with me lying injured in a bed was something to spark my heart rate, I wanted a kiss when I was fully healthy. If everything went according to my plan, I’d have one of those soon. Maybe my bad luck hadn’t been so bad after all. Headless wasn’t a peach, but I’d gotten the guy in the end.

  Melanie’s love of writing was instilled in her during the fourth grade when she co-wrote her first sloppily written, hand-drawn, book with her sisters. Since then, she has taken her love of writing to the next level with published novels. Her husband, two sons, and dog, Toby, are her biggest supporters.

  Connect with Melanie

  www.melaniegilbertauthor.com

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  The Curse of Thorn

  Monte Cassino, Latin Valley, Italy - 550 CE

  * * *

  The morning air had held a crispness to it as he’d woken. He was up, and moving about his cell quickly to dress in the rough, brown robes that added a little protection from the elements—but not much. A little misery throughout the day was a good reminder of the penance one owed for the sins of the previous day. As was the hard stone floor beneath his knees while he knelt for his morning prayer and meditations.

  Just prior to 6:00am, he had joined the other brothers filing silently into the chapel for morning service. The chanted mass echoed off the stone archways above them. The solemn thrum of their prayers carrying through the abbey never ceased to fill Tommaso with a sense of divine fellowship. Just as their voices were one, they were one with God.

  The brothers had broken their fast over gruel made with hearty goat milk and a cask of water to wash it down. Now, Tommaso stooped low in the gardens, basking in the heat of the sunshine as he plucked beans to be dropped into the satchel at his side. One row over, Brother Paolo was doing the same, but there was a hymn upon his lips as he carried out their morning task. Overall, there was a peacefulness to the abbey, even the gardens, with only the occasional hammer or movement of a ladder as several of the brothers worked on re-thatching the roof to the root cellar’s exterior entrance.

  “Brother Tommaso, I hoped I might have a word with you.” The voice coming from over his shoulder belonged to his abbot, Father Cassian.

  Wiping his hands clean upon his robes, Tommaso stood and cautiously turned around so as not to trample any of the prospering bean plants. “Of course Father.”

  Father Cassian motioned for him to leave the garden rows and join him as he began to walk along the green grasses of the monastery’s inner grounds. Falling easily into step beside him, Tommaso placed his hands around opposite wrists, allowing the long sleeves of his robe to fall down over them as they walked.

  “As you may have noticed of late, Brother Tiberius has aged considerably. God very nearly called him home during his illness last winter, and he has never truly recovered from it. While I wish to respect his life of devoted service to the faith, I do not want to press him onward in duties he is no longer capable of.”

  Tommaso nodded in understanding, but remained silent at the abbot’s side.

  “My wish is for Brother Tiberius to step down, and instead focus on daily personal meditations and working however he may in the library. A place no one will notice should he fall asleep.” The last part was more of an aside to himself, for Father Cassian cleared his throat before continuing on. “However, this means that we have lost our Cantor.”

  Tommaso, unable to resist, peered over at Father Cassian, feeling perhaps more excitement than was proper for what he hoped the abbot was getting to.

  “While I had my own thoughts on the matter, I have spoken to a number of others, as well as Brother Tiberius himself, and we have all agreed that you are the perfect candidate to take over leadership of the choir.” At this point, Father Cassian ceased in his steps and turned to face Tommaso. While he was shorter than Tommaso, there was a firm, confident air to the abbot’s gaze that could pin any of the brothers in their place.

  “I…am honoured to be considered,” Tommaso began, his pulse thrumming in his throat. He had loved music even in his youth. The wandering bards who occasionally passed through his small village always a spot of excitement, and thrill.

  “It is a role that comes with much responsibility, Tommaso, and must be seen to with a sense of heavenly devotion, and fealty. When our choir raises their voice, they sing not just for the pleasure of those listening, but with the intent of reaching the ears of God, and His Son upon their heavenly thrones. It is out of praise of the Holy Trinity, and much needed prayer that we commune in such a way. As Cantor, it will be your duty to lead the choir on this most sacred of paths. Are you ready for that responsibility?” Father Cassian gazed back at him with a solemn expression.

  Tommaso felt the excitement within him level out as the weight of great responsibility fell to his shoulders. He was young as a brother yet, and to be gifted such a role was an incredible honour.

  “I am humbled Father, and while I am weak in my own right, I will depend upon the guidance of the Lord to aid me in the new duty of Cantor.” His voice was low, but steady as he responded.

  Father Cassian nodded. “I have every faith that you will.”

  554 CE

  * * *

  Arms lifted in the air, Tommaso led the choir through the hymns for the evening mass, as well as the evening passage. They had been practicing for several hours this afternoon and would break only for the evening meal, before heading to the chapel for mass. The voices of the brothers before him rose in a solemn manner that not only echoed off the stone walls, but reverberated deep within him. Nothing had fulfilled him so greatly as the role of Cantor had. Leading his brothers down a closer path to God through the means of song, had given him deeper appreciation for the gifts their Heavenly Father had bestowed upon them.

  As they c
ame to the final verse, his hands gently drew out the last chords before closing with a flick. The voices ceased, only the faint ring off the walls an indication of what had been.

  “Well done, brothers. You may retire until dinner is called.” At his words, the monks before him began to file out, but he caught the eye of one young brother, and motioned for him to stay behind.

  “Yes, Brother Tommaso?” he questioned, coming to stand before him.

  “You’re holding back,” Tommaso stated, gazing back at the young lad.

  Ezra had only joined the order a short six months before. While studious and earnest in his newly minted vow, there was most evidently a part of himself that he was still afraid to give.

  “I…” The boy frowned, his confusion flickering over his features. “Aren’t I meant to?”

  Tommaso smiled and reached out to rest his hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner. “Walk with me,” he instructed.

  The two fell in step alongside each other as they began a slow trek towards the end of the abbey where the dining hall lay.

  “The life that each of us has chosen is one of simplicity and quiet reflections, and I can see how that would seem conflicting in nature. We lead this life so that nothing stands in the way of our connection to God, nor interrupts our time of meditation. However…” He smiled over at the boy as he spoke. “Our praise should never be simple, or restrained. Do not be afraid to take pleasure in your singing, or to lose yourself to the chant. Our song is holy, and while we sing for Him, we also sing for ourselves. We sing of our love, and our devotion, and one should never be ashamed of taking pleasure in that. Or of feeling all that it has to offer.”

  There was silence as they walked, only the soft tread of their sandals upon the floor, and Ezra mulled over his words. Tommaso gave him the time to think it through, and let his heart and his head settle on the truth of them. It was a journey of knowledge and acceptance that each new brother had to take—a life of solitude, and simplicity, did not mean cutting oneself off from all great, and true emotions.