Plague of Shadows

by Michael Wisehart

  Ty was tempted to say yes just to shut the book up. Instead, he rowed all the harder. After what felt like an hour but was probably only a quarter of that, he stopped again, still not having spotted the three boats. They couldn’t have gotten that far ahead. Could they? “Give me something.”

  “I’ve already told you how to get it.”

  Ty huffed and started rowing once again. He needed to do something. He’d lost them, and even with the available moonlight, there was enough brush lining the embankments that they could have stowed their boats and he’d never know it. He might have already passed them. Frustrated, he released the oars and let the boat drift in the current. “What good are you if you can’t help me find them? I can’t see anything out here.”

  “You’re trying my patience, child.”

  Ty gritted his teeth. “I’m not a child.”

  “Then prove me wrong and do what needs to be done.”

  “You’re the one who said how dangerous it was. Fatal, I believe, is the word you used.”

  “Yes, well, I might have overstated the risk. For a non-wielder it would be fatal. For a ven’ae whose abilities have not been strengthened through practice and training, it can prove extremely dangerous. But for you, a half-faerie who has clearly seen extensive use of his gifts, I don’t see any lasting problems. But if you are too frightened to try, then there might be one thing I can give you.”

  “What is that?” Ty huffed, his patience running thin. He didn’t like being called a coward, or a child, and was about two shakes of a horse’s tail away from tossing the ring and the book in the river and being done with it.

  “Repeat what I say. Exactly. Ru’kasha Kor.”

  Ty waited for more. “Is that it?”

  “Say it exactly as I did.”

  Ty took a deep breath. “Ru’kasha Kor.” Nothing happened. What was supposed to happen? “I don’t feel anything. Did it work?”

  “No. You didn’t use any magic, and you pronounced it incorrectly. It’s not Ru as in rug. It’s Ru, as in your skills are rudimentary.”

  Ty gritted his teeth. “Fine. I’ll try again.” This time, he opened himself up to his magic, letting the warmth of it fill him before speaking. “Here goes nothing.” He took another deep breath. “Ru’kasha Kor.”

  Chapter 69 | Ty

  THE WORLD BRIGHTENED. He could see everything. The river, the trees, even the brush along the embankments. It was amazing. It wasn’t like seeing things in the bright of day, more like a grey dawn where the sun hadn’t risen high enough for the colors to be seen. The moon was still the natural source of light, but its luminance was much stronger. In a way, it reminded him of the effects of Sheeva’s invisibility, where everything seemed a little washed out.

  “What happened?” he asked, holding up his hand and noticing he could even see the glass ring.

  “This is but a minute amount of knowledge I can bestow once you agree to the blending. You now have the ability to see in the dark like an Upakan.”

  “How long does it last?”

  “Until you decide to stop it.”

  “And how do I do that?”

  “By repeating this: Ru’kasha Sve.”

  “Ru’kasha Sve.” The world dimmed, and he found himself in the dark once more, barely able to see the shoreline. “Ru’kasha Kor.” The world brightened. His earlier hesitancy about the blending was fast dissolving. If this was just a sample of what he could gain, why was he saying no? He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to do anything drastic, though. He needed to find those boats. Grabbing the oars, he put his back into it.

  Another quarter hour passed, and his arms were beginning to burn, but there was still no sign of the council members. They couldn’t have gotten that far ahead. He rowed around the next bend.

  Something moved just ahead on his right. What was that?

  He thought he had seen the back of one of the boats sliding into the brush a few hundred feet upriver, but he wasn’t sure. Angling his boat closer to the right shore, he kept rowing until he reached the spot where he thought it went in.

  There was nothing but undergrowth stretching from the trees down the embankment and into the water. He poked his way along the shore with one of the oars, pushing branches and low-hanging moss aside as he went. About twenty feet up, his oar hit a section of limbs that spread when he pushed. They weren’t connected to anything.

  This had to be it.

  Pushing the branches aside with his oar, he guided the boat inside. The brush slid back into place behind him as soon as he made it through. Clever, he thought. Even with the aid of this new magic, he would have never found this place if he hadn’t seen the other boat. He released a short sigh of relief, then started rowing, his nerves tingling the farther he went. He was almost afraid of what he might find.

  Unlike the main branch of the river, the water here seemed calm, at least on the surface, almost the way he felt inside at the moment. There was no telling how deep it went. He looked over the edge of the boat, but it was too murky to see much more than his reflection. The trees overshadowed the waterway, blocking the moon’s light. If it wasn’t for this new night sight, he’d be sitting in total darkness.

  He slowed when he heard voices ahead, relying on just a single oar instead of two. A sharp curve in the waterway kept him from seeing what was going on. Quietly, he edged his boat closer to the right shoreline as he neared the bend. The embankment on either side of the water rose probably twenty feet—as though the river had sliced straight through the middle of a hillside—making it more than a little difficult to reach the top without a rope and a good pair of climbing boots.

  Scooting to the front of the boat, he worked his way along the edge of the mud and rock and peeked around the corner.

  There they were. His heart was racing, each beat pulling him closer to a confrontation he wasn’t looking forward to having.

  All three boats were tied to a small dock that was attached to a winding set of stairs, leading up to the top of the rise. An old cabin stood just back from the ledge, watching the water below like a sentinel. Was this where Gilly lived? Admittedly, it seemed a good place to store the items if the goal was to keep them out of the wrong hands. He just couldn’t believe that those hands had been his.

  He waited and watched as the council members each took an armload and started for the stairs. He figured he better get comfortable, because this was going to take all night. However, before they reached the head of the dock, Gilly ran up the stairs and shouted something down to those at the bottom before lowering a large basin over the side, attached to some kind of makeshift pulley.

  As soon as the basin hit the dock, the members began filling it with the cargo from the boats. It took about seven loads, but they managed to get it all to the top of the rise.

  As Ty waited, he mulled over what he could possibly say when he faced them. He had originally intended to remain hidden, to not let them know he had discovered their plotting, but the more he thought about it, the more he wanted them to know they hadn’t gotten away with anything. Every member of the council had lied to him, gone behind his back, and purposely hid what they were doing. His own family had betrayed his trust, which hurt more than anything. What’s worse was that he had no idea why they’d done it.

  “Quit feeling sorry for yourself, and go find out what they’re doing with those books. You can’t let them be destroyed.”

  The book was right. Now wasn’t the time to be wallowing in self-pity. Before he confronted them, he needed to find out what they were up to and make sure they didn’t destroy the very things that might tell him who he was.

  As soon as the dock and ramp were empty and the last of the members had left the edge, he guided the boat around the bend and started for the pier. He tied the boat with a very loose knot in case he needed to make a quick escape, then made his way up the rickety switchback staircase.

  He stopped before reaching the top and peered up over the edge. There was no one there. All th
e windows in the house were dark, and he couldn’t hear any noises coming from inside. He did hear something from around the back of the house, though, farther in the woods. He climbed off the step and quietly moved through the brush around the side of the house.

  The back was empty. He was starting to get tired of this cat-and-mouse hunt.

  He noticed a narrow path leading from the back of the house into the woods, and not seeing any other reasonable explanation as to where they had gone, he took it.

  He slowed when he heard voices ahead, stopping before reaching what appeared to be a small clearing in the trees. He moved into the brush on the side of the path and crawled forward. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he did recognize Gilly’s voice. He wanted to peek through the brush, but he was too afraid they’d spot him. What were they doing out there? Burying it?

  Ty wasn’t sure, but it sounded as though the voices were growing fainter. They must be on the move again. He stood and headed back for the path, stopping just outside the clearing where he spotted the hole. They are burying it. He ground his teeth and started for the hole but stopped and dropped to his stomach when he heard voices coming from inside.

  Quickly, he crawled to the edge of the pit and peeked in. He couldn’t hear the voices any longer. Where’d they go? Then he heard something else. It sounded like water, and it was getting louder.

  Ty jumped back, landing on his backside as a wave of water shot straight up the hole. He waited for it to blow out over the top and soak him, but not a single drop made it above the lip. He crawled back to the edge and looked inside. The water had stopped about two feet from the top.

  He wanted to scream. Now how was he going to get those books? He doubted he could swim down. He had no idea how far it went. He stared at the water, and finding he didn’t care anymore, he leaned back and yelled at the top of his lungs.

  “You see. This is what you get when you don’t listen.”

  “Shut up!” Ty said, staring at the hole.

  The book groaned. “Is this truly what I have been relegated to? I was created for the use of wizards, and now I find myself in the hands of a child too afraid of disappointing the very people who have lied to him to do what’s necessary. Do you really want to put your life in the hands of liars? Or do you want the ability to protect yourself? With the knowledge I hold in my pages, I can not only get you down there, but I can help you become what you were created to be. You’ll never have to depend on anyone ever again.”

  Ty’s knuckles were white. Why was he still fighting this? Even if a fraction of what the book had said was true, wouldn’t it be worth it to try?

  “Make your decision, child . . .”

  An image of his mother being feasted on by the spiders flooded his thoughts. He had been too weak to stop it then.

  “ . . . before it’s too late.”

  “Fine!” He pulled the book out from his pocket and cleared his mind. He let go of his anxiety, his anger, his fear. He shut out the images of his mother, of the council, of the water just below him, and concentrated on nothing but the blank pages of the book. He closed his eyes.

  He was ready.

  “Good. Now release your magic into me.”

  Ty obeyed, and the magic poured from him like it had during his fight with Mangora. He could feel the burning in his arm where the mark was undoubtedly growing. He wanted to open his eyes, but he was too afraid of breaking his concentration.

  “Yes. More. Release it all.”

  Ty didn’t hold back. He shattered every dam and let the floodgates of his magic surge into the book until he had nothing left to give. The heat was gone, and he felt nothing but cold and numb. There was no pain. In fact, he felt nothing at all: not the wind on his face, the book in his hands, or the clothes on his back. He couldn’t even feel the ground under his feet. He felt . . . nothing!

  “What happened?” Ty tried asking, but nothing came out. Had it worked? He didn’t feel smarter. Something wasn’t right. “Hello? Are you still there?” He tried opening his eyes, but he couldn’t. He was left alone to the darkness.

  “Of course I’m here,” the book said, but somehow with Ty’s voice. “And let me say, it feels wonderful.”

  “Wait. Why do I hear you speaking and not me? What’s happening?”

  Ty’s eyes opened involuntarily. He was still standing near the edge of the hole. He tried moving his arms, but like his eyes, they wouldn’t obey him. “Something’s wrong.”

  “On the contrary, my little faeling. Everything is exactly as it should be. Thank you so much for the loan of your body. It’s quite something.”

  “You did this on purpose?”

  “Ever since you first walked into my store all those weeks ago, I could have never in my wildest dreams imagined we would be connected in such a way.”

  The book cackled, and this time, even hearing it through his own voice, Ty recognized it immediately. “Mangora?”

  She laughed. “And he finally catches on.”

  “How?”

  “You didn’t think I’d just up and leave without some sort of assurance that my task would be completed, did you? I’m the last of the Ahvari witches. My bloodline runs all the way back to Pinnella Ahvari herself.”

  “But how could you have known I’d take the book?”

  “I saw your fascination with them the first time, so I spelled it to call to you. Simple spell, really, but one that has produced overwhelming results.”

  He wanted to heave, but he couldn’t even do that. The very person he’d been trying to find a way to kill had been with him all along, listening to his thoughts, feeding his emotions and desires. He wanted to punch himself in the face for being so stupid, or at least throw himself in the pit and let the water take him. Every inch of his skin crawled.

  How could he have been so blind? She was right. He was a child. An ignorant, petulant, goat-sucking child. And now, she had taken everything.

  Ty concentrated as hard as he could to move a leg, an arm, a single finger.

  But nothing happening.

  “I’d forgotten how good it feels to be young,” she said as she ran his hands down his chest. She hopped up and down, then ran in a circle around the hole. Twice. “To be able to move like this is wonderful.” She raised his left hand, and blue flames burst from his palm.

  He could feel a small tingling in his arms from the release, but nothing more.

  “Oh, my. I can feel it. You are powerful.” Both hands rose this time, aiming at the trees to either side of the hole. Mangora mumbled something under her breath, and a torrent of fire burst from his palms, burning everything around him. It was more powerful than anything he’d ever accomplished before. The tingling sensation in his arm grew. His arm felt much the same as waking in the middle of the night to discover he’d been lying on it, and it had gone to sleep.

  Releasing Ty’s fire, she lowered his hands and shook his head. “Such a waste. Oh well.” She walked over to the hole and looked in. “Now to get my stuff back.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to finish what I started.” She leaped from the edge of the hole and Ty yelped.

  He was even more surprised when she landed on top of the water without sinking in.

  “Your voda is more talented than I gave him credit for.”

  “You mean Gilly?” Ty’s heart was pounding; at least, he thought it was his heart. Maybe it was just his imagination. He tried to determine what to do. He’d rather die than allow her to use his magic to kill everyone he cared about.

  “Aquaria Lavidia,” Mangora said, and the water they were standing on began to lower.

  The opening to the hole grew smaller as they descended into the pit.

  “Please, I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t hurt them.” It turned his stomach to beg, especially to her. But at this point he was too desperate to care. She had all the control.

  “You’ll do anything I want either way.”

  Water
ran down the mud-slicked sides of the pit as they lowered into the darkness beyond. Ty tried looking up to see how small the hole had gotten to estimate how far down they’d gone, but he couldn’t get his head to work. He was resigned to looking down at his feet and the shelf of water he was miraculously standing on.

  He tried everything he could to take control back, focusing as hard as he could to move. He had to reclaim his body before they reached the bottom and she made him do something he’d never forgive himself for.

  The water slowed, stopping altogether as they reached the entrance of a tunnel. Ty breathed a small sigh of relief when he realized no one was there. Again, he willed his legs to stand in place, but no matter how hard he tried, he had no control.

  “Interesting,” Mangora said as she stepped off the platform and into the tunnel. She spared a quick glance over her shoulder. The water remained where it was. “Who would have ever thought your little council was so resourceful?”

  “They’re smarter than you think.”

  “I doubt that,” she said as she started down the tunnel. It seemed to be heading back in the direction of the river.

  “They defeated your army of bulradoer and Black Watch.”

  Mangora laughed, but softly. “That was hardly an army. One single contingent of Black Watch and what? Four bulradoer?”

  “Five,” Ty corrected.

  “Oh, forgive me. Five.” She raised Ty’s hands and studied them. “You’ll find that things have changed considerably.”

  “If you hurt them, I’ll kill you! You hear me?”

  “I can’t help but hear you, boy,” Mangora gruffed. “An unfortunate side effect of this magic.”

  They continued forward slowly. Mangora remained vigilant, carefully checking the way ahead as if expecting it to be laced with traps. Ty wondered how much time he had to stop her before they reached his family.

  His heart sank when he heard voices ahead.

  A couple of rocks skidded around the corner and stopped a few feet from where they were standing. Someone was coming.

  Mangora quickly moved up against the left wall and waited.