by Terah Edun
The woman didn’t hesitate. She rushed over to the bed and grabbed her son from behind. Soothing him, she pulled his head back as he relaxed. Mopping his brow with a cloth from the bedside and patting his head, she said through sobs, “Barren, my Barren. It’s all right. You’re safe. Come back to us.”
Soon he was limp again, as if he’d never moved. His mother rearranged him back in his bed and pulled the covers over his chest.
Clutching the cloth to her chest, she said, “Our best healers aren’t able to help my son.”
“Are either of you a healer?” she said with hope in her voice.
“No, ma’am,” answered Terris softly. “We just heard the voice—the owl calling out to us in our heads.”
As if on demand, the owl mind-spoke again. Let them come. Let them come.
The woman started and put her hand to her throat in surprise. She looked from perch where the owl roosted to the two girls standing before her.
“There is nothing that hasn’t been tried to revive my son. I am grateful that he is still alive, but I want my son back,” she said, her tone wavering into pleading. “The bond owls of Panen are sacred to my people. They know things when their human bond mates don’t. If Flightfeather thinks you can help, then please can you at least try?”
Ciardis and Terris looked at each other uncertainly. They weren’t healers and couldn’t do anything for the young man trapped inside his own mind.
Ciardis said, “We would try if we knew what to do but we don’t. Perhaps it would be best to call a healer from below.”
“You don’t think that every healer in this community hasn’t tried to help my son?”
A bitterness entered the mother’s voice as she wiped her son’s brow, “They’ve all tried. They’ve all failed. All I’m asking is for you to give your best. The bond owls are often wise to many things we don’t know.”
Gulping Ciardis and Terris walked forward to the bed.
Returning to his side, they saw that his eyes were closed and his arms lay by his side on top of the blanket. He was still and pale, with wisps of hair coming down over his forehead. Someone had recently trimmed the sides and back, though. Perhaps his mother, thought Ciardis. She stood behind them solemnly, her hands folded in front of her, watching their every move.
Terris reached out to touch him, but her hand fell short of his face to grab a hand at his side. Hoping to give the mother some comfort, she asked, “What is his name?”
“Barren,” the woman tearfully replied.
Terris loosened her grip on his hand, preparing to let go. But she felt something in his touch. A whisper of magic. A whisper of his mind. But it felt like it was cloaked, hidden by another presence—a dark mind.
“Yes, yes,” said Flightfeather. “Bring him out. Bring him out.”
He was there; Terris could feel his presence. But he was locked away, far away. Unconsciously, she reached out her left hand for Ciardis’s right.
I need you, Terris said mentally.
I’m here, responded Ciardis.
And then they fell. They fell into a spiral of magic and power, searching for the boy named Barren.
As they reached his core, they felt a wall. But it was like no wall either girl had ever seen. It moved and twisted with a litheness that spoke of darkness. It was as black as ink, and, as they pushed on it, flexible. “It’s like it was built of shadows,” Terris whispered. It was strong but flexible, and yet it also had a quality that made it feel like vapor.
“He’s behind it,” Ciardis said. “But it’s like a barrier—similar to one that Alexandra put up when we were riding together. It’s preventing his magic from releasing and those seeking his presence and his magic from finding him.”
Pushing against the barrier was no use. So Terris felt for cracks.
There must be a way in here, Terris thought with frustration. I wouldn’t feel his presence otherwise. A tiny crack, a tiny slip in the barrier.
She forced herself to calm down and methodically search the moving shadows for a crack in the seams. For a long time there was nothing but silence in the room as the two girls dove deep. And then a loud shout of glee echoed throughout the room in excitement. They had found the crack.
Wedging her essence into the small crevice, Terris widened it. She knew instinctively that she had to break it. Gathering her magic and Ciardis’s enhancement, she pushed and pushed until she felt like she was exploding. And then the barrier dissipated and his power and his presence rushed out. Terris and Ciardis were thrown back into their bodies forcefully, and they fell back onto the ground in disarray.
When they arose again, both sported fierce headaches and identical expressions of confusion.
Before them on the bed, Barren had sat up and he looked no less confused they did. His mother let out a cry of joy and raced to her son’s beside to gather him in a hug.
Seconds later Barren’s mother dissolved into the tears.
Flightfeathers sent his thoughts to Terris and Ciardis. Good, good. Thank you. Thank you. Barren, my Barren, is back!
“Yes,” said the mother, simultaneously crying and hugging her son. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
From that moment on there was no peace. People, neighbors, friends, family, and healers poured into the tiny home, all eager to see Barren and hear the story from Terris and Ciardis. They explained over and over what they had done, but they couldn’t explain how they had done it.
Chapter 25
The next morning Ciardis and Terris were surrounded again by well-wishers and curious mages. It wasn’t until Alexandra’s grandfather chided everyone for overwhelming the three young people that they pulled back at all. Barren’s mother, Olivia, with a glare on her face and her hands on her hips, managed to get rid of the rest of the stragglers.
After everyone dispersed, Julius wandered up to the group.
“Grandfather?” he asked as he approached.
As the Panen patriarch, Meres, Vana, and the two young women turned to greet him, they quieted at the tired look in his eyes. “There’s been trouble,” he said curtly. “On the southern border of the forest I’ve had reports of a pillar of smoke coming from the town of Borden.”
“The human village closest to the forest?” asked Meres. Ciardis caught his expression. He did not look happy; dark thoughts were running through his head.
Grimly, Julius nodded. “It’s not only smoke. We haven’t received trade from the villagers in many days. Usually they would have brought their shares of milk, cream, and meat in exchange for our fabrics by now.”
“Have any of your people seen them?” questioned Vana.
“No,” replied Julius stiffly. “They prefer to come to us. We meet at the forest edge and barter there once a week.”
“This is troubling, Julius,” said Alexandra, coming forward.
“I seek permission to ride with four of my best warriors to survey the village,” Julius said while looking at the patriarch of the Panen.
“Permission given,” replied the old man, raising a stalling hand before Julius could take off. “The representatives from the Algardis Empire will ride with you.”
Thank the gods, thought Ciardis, We need to know what’s going on with those villagers. If they’ve been attacked by the kith, heaven help us.
“Very well,” replied Julius, looking to Vana and Meres. “Are you ready to ride?”
Meres turned to looked Vana, Alexandra, Ciardis and Terris, “Are we?”
Various affirmations met his inquiry.
“Then let’s ride. Everyone gather a pack and meet at the entrance in twenty minutes. We don’t know how long we’ll be gone so pack necessary items but keep it light.”
As Ciardis and Terris trailed Vana back to their homes Vana spoke to them, “I know it’s been an action-packed time for the two of you in just a few days. I hope you’re holding up well.”
They nodded as Ciardis commented, “I can’t imagine it getting even busier but Maree should be here within a d
ay. A lot of the responsibilities will fall to her.”
“And you’ll be trailing behind her the whole time,” murmured Terris in commiseration.
Ciardis sighed. There was nothing she could say to that. She wasn’t looking forward to more of this.
Gathering their things the group was soon on its way to the village that was a mere hour’s ride from the forest border. Even before they reached the village, Ciardis could smell the smoke. As they drew closer and her eyes began to water, she drew up a scarf around her nose and mouth. There was nothing she could do for the sting in her eyes, however.
Riding onto the village main road, they were met with a stillness that was uncanny. There were no children in the streets or people going about their daily shopping in the market, and the homes had the empty look of abandoned buildings. Ciardis couldn’t help but shiver. Meres motioned for them to keep moving forward. Julius’s demeanor was alert. They rode toward the village square not knowing what they’d find.
In the center over what had once been the village’s pride and joy—a central stage for entertainment—rose a pyre at least ten feet tall with smoke still rising from it and flames that flickered in the vast pile. As they dismounted, they took in the horror before them.
Hundreds of bodies were thrown haphazardly onto the huge pile, wooden logs interspersed between bodies. Some of the flesh had escaped the inferno by falling to the base. The bravest of the group, including Julius’s warriors and Vana, took a closer look at the pyre. Even they couldn’t stay near it for very long – the stench of the burnt bodies lingered even now. But they all reported the same thing – slashes from that thrice-damned shadow creature marked every visible body.
“This must have burned for days,” whispered Vana, her mouth covered by a cloth.
“We would have known about it,” said Julius in denial as he walked around the pyre.
“No,” said Vana. “A Weather Mage has been here. I can see the remnants of the spell. It contained the blaze with walls of wind to this spot.”
Ciardis trained her eyes on the ground where a perfect large circle was outlined on the ground with black scorch marks.
“After they were through with their torch,” said Alexandra, “the wind was shifted, right?”
She looked to Vana for confirmation. The woman, who had turned a ghastly shade of white, nodded.
“There are very few villages between here and Sandrin,” Meres said thoughtfully as he dug a finger into a clump of ash on the ground.
“No one would have seen the smoke or alerted the courts,” he continued while dusting off his fingers. “Not from so far away.”
“What did you find?” said Alexandra as she looked at him sharply.
“The dead. The living dead,” he said finally.
“What?” whispered Terris.
Straightening his shoulders with a weary look, he said, “This mage, whoever it is, has trapped the souls of the dead in the ash of their bodies.”
“Mother light,” cursed Alexandra, backing away.
“Impossible!” said Vana. “No Weather Mage could do such a thing.”
“Which is why it wasn’t just a Weather Mage,” he said. “There’s a necromancer among us.”
Chapter 26
On the other side of the empire, Maree Amber lit a large torch. She was two stories below the Imperial courts in the catacombs reserved for members of the Imperial families. She watched as the flames threw long shadows on the high walls and tombs around her. In front of her a gatekeeper brought out a large set of keys. She could see at least a dozen iron keys dangling on the large ring he shifted around. Finally finding the one he was looking for, he thrust the key into the old, iron gate. It opened with a long creak as he waved her through.
Shutting the gate behind him Maree Amber and the gatekeeper walked down a narrow slope to the banks of the underground river. Maree knew this river supplied all of Sandrin’s water supply as well as acted as a secret network of transportation under the city. While this was the main branch, a vast number of smaller rivers existed across the city. Many, she had no doubt, lay unexplored or were used by criminals for nefarious purposes. As long as the criminals left her alone she had no cause to inform the guard about them. Besides, she needed to keep the river network open. It was one of the many ways she was able to get informants and special deliveries in and out of the city.
Taking her seat on the old boat, she directed her power to push the skiff along. After some time she came to another dock, this one much more elaborate than the last. It had been landscaped with steps carved into the cliff, and a stone entrance awaited her at the top. When she reached the top, she noticed a pike man in passing. His gray attire and stiff stance made him appear to be part of the wall. Maree ignored him and waited for the door to open.
Swiftly she walked in and climbed the stairs, removing her hood. An empty room awaited her with a roaring fire at the head. Maree Amber took off her gloves as she moved forward to rub her hands before the fire. Minutes later she heard steps behind her. She turned to meet the brown eyes of the Emperor of Algardis, and dropped to the floor in obeisance.
“Get up, Maree Amber,” he said quietly. “Much is to be discussed tonight, and time is of the essence.”
Well, I guess formalities are out the window, she thought.
“Very well, Sire.”
She hesitated briefly before continuing on, “If I may ask—why are we meeting here? The Shadow Council has always met in secrecy, but never in such darkness.”
“The answer is very simple. I do not trust all of our council.”
“Milord, they are all loyal and would die for the cause of the empire.”
He chuckled. “I think their definition of ‘the empire’ might not always consider myself or my heirs necessary.”
“I’m certain—”
“The Sahalians heard of the kith concerns from someone in this empire, Maree. I will not have further concerns spread beyond those necessary. What I’m about to show you could destabilize all that we have worked for.”
She waited for emperor to say anything further, but he just stared into the flames, watching the red, the gold, and the orange colors flicker.
He turned to face her, his face lit in profile by the flames, his high-collared military uniform cast in shadows with every movement of the fire, but nothing touched the weariness in his eyes, and the grim set of his lips.
“Milord?” she said.
“Let us go,” he said, leading Maree to a small door on the far side of the room. It was built in the stone and had escaped her notice before. A shadow peeled off the wall, one of the night gardis that protected the emperor from dusk until dawn. They were mages with the ability to blend and merge into any shadow, taking their weapons with them, and as such were well-suited to being the night guardians of the Imperial family. Without a word, the shadow man preceded the emperor to the door and then slipped underneath. A second night guardian smoothly opened the door to allow the emperor and Maree Amber to pass through to the small room beyond.
The room was filled with bodies. Humans laid out on tables in neat rows. They were at every stage of decomposition.
“How many?”
“Ten women and children,” the emperor said solemnly.
He pointed to the urns that lined the opposite side of the room. “And twenty-four men.”
Maree turned her eyes from the bones and fragments of hair still attached to the decayed skin to the urns that the Emperor had pointed to.
“Do you mean...?”
“They burned the men until they were nothing but ash and then tied their souls to the remains. I called in the Ashlord to confirm.”
At that name Maree turned pale as snow; the Ashlord was one of the most feared men in existence, a necromancer with command over the dead and dying.
“I thought he was ordered to the battlefields of the North.” A question that was really a statement. As close as she could get to reprimanding the man who ruled the entire em
pire.
If the emperor noticed the reprimand, he didn’t say anything about it. “Extraordinary circumstances,” he said in a voice that was too quiet.
Pursing his lips, the emperor continued, “Furthermore, the Ashlord was quite clear: he’d never encountered anyone with the power over the living and dead like this. Other than himself.”
“There’s another with the power to reanimate the dead and their souls?”
The emperor shook his head. “As far as we can tell, this person is only able to manipulate souls. They are living dead only in the sense that their souls have been trapped in the ashes of their corporeal forms.”
A quiet pause as Maree Amber took this in. “Are you saying a Shadowwalker has risen?”
“I had hoped otherwise, but—”
“Is this a killer that you wish the Shadow Council to remove?”
“Rather a systematic murder that I wish you to solve. All of these bodies come from the village of Borden ten miles west of the Ameles Forest,” he said.
“May the heavens protect us,” she whispered.
“They were sent as a warning from the kith that if the killings among their people don’t stop, the deaths of humans will continue.”
“Does anyone else know about this?” she asked quietly.
“I’ve brought my son here. He will go with you to the Ameles Forest. This must end before more blood is shed.”
She nodded, and as he turned away she asked, “Sire, does Sebastian know? About the Shadow Council?”
He gave a heavy sigh and replied, “Not yet. It will be time soon, but that time has yet to come.”
*****
In the palace the Prince Heir in question was staring down at a book on the legends of the kith. For centuries researchers had learned what they could about the inhuman races that lived in the empire, but most were reclusive creatures and preferred to keep their secrets. The books held drawings, diagrams, and written backgrounds on all those who had been catalogued but he had yet to find a creature who killed in the manner of the ‘shadow man’ described in Meres Kinsight’s missive.
