Moonshadow

by J. D. Gregory

  It’s finally time to get up. As long as Diana had waited for morning to arrive, now that it was here, she couldn’t bring herself to leave Darien’s arms. She’d remained in their warm embrace long after he’d drifted to sleep. The comfort they brought, and the memories of the evening, had been more than enough to keep Diana at peace through the night as she lay in bed, unable to fall asleep.

  Even now, long after the experience had ended, she could still feel a part of Darien’s soulfire burning along with hers. She had no doubt that a piece of her own soul burned deep within him as he slept beside her.

  The rumble in her stomach was more than enough motivation to finally get up. Food was the current treasure in need of seeking out. Didn’t I see a sign downstairs that said something about a Full English Breakfast? Before they partook of a morning meal, however, Diana needed to freshen up.

  As she moved from out of his arms, Darien stirred from his slumber and took her hand in his.

  “First light, already?” he asked groggily, looking through squinted eyes.

  “Indeed it is,” Diana replied with a kiss to his sleepy forehead. “And I’m starving. I’m going to take a shower while you wake yourself up. Then it’s down to breakfast.”

  “How can you be so ready to give orders this early in the morning?” Darien asked, his eyes fighting to stay open.

  Diana shrugged. “It just comes natural, I guess.”

  “Well, my natural state in the morning is asleep,” Darien replied with a wide smile as he closed his eyes and eased himself back into the blankets. “I’ll be awake by the time you’ve finished getting ready.”

  “Uh huh,” Diana said sardonically and proceeded into the bathroom to take a shower.

  As she let the steaming water wash away the grime of the previous evening, Diana couldn’t help but find it strange that she’d never realized Darien wasn’t a morning person. He’d always seemed so alert and put together when they’d spent the early hours of the day together. It was odd to think that she could love someone so deeply, and yet, not know the simplest things about them, such as how they wake up in the morning. What else did she not know about the man who was now, quite literally, her soulmate? It didn’t matter, really; Diana had a lifetime to find out more.

  When Diana was thoroughly clean, with a towel wrapped around her middle and another around her wet hair, she returned to the bedroom to find a white-robed Darien standing in front of the window with his hands clasped behind his back, staring off into the distance.

  “Are you alright?” she asked, a bit worried. Considering the entirety of the previous evening, Darien would have a lot on his mind. Even so, Diana couldn’t feel any intense feelings of anxiety coming from him.

  He let his hands go and turned around. His warm smile let Diana know he was fine.

  “Yes, sorry. I was just meditating on our present circumstance.”

  “Come to any profound realizations?” she asked, not really knowing what to make of his “meditations.”

  “I believe so, but we can discuss it over breakfast.” Analyzing Diana’s bath-toweled state,

  Darien seemed strangely troubled. It only took Diana a moment to realize the problem as well.

  “We have no clothes,” she said, sounding defeated. Their luggage remained deep within the ruins of Qir’Aflonas, and going back now would be suicide. Their only available clothing—very conspicuous elven formal wear—was still a damp mess spread over the radiator. Even dry, the clothes would not be suited for affairs in human realms.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Darien said with a smile and a nod of assurance. “Wait here.”

  He slipped the beguile ring back onto his finger, letting the magic give him his human appearance, and then tightened his robe before heading off to figure out a solution to their clothing problems.

  While she waited, Diana inspected their clothes to see if she’d ruined her gown. Luckily it didn’t appear too damaged. The plunge into an underground river had left it unscathed, and somehow, the snow had washed away most of the mud that had caked on it while she climbed out of the well.

  With pained longing, Diana thought about her trunk of exquisite dresses lying in her apartments back in Qir’Aflonas. She loved every one of them; would she ever get them back? They had become her second skin over the course of their journey. Diana felt like she’d just left a part of herself behind that she’d never get back. Even if I never get by dresses back, I’m never wearing pants again if I can help it.

  When Darien finally returned, he had medium-sized, handled, leather trunk, the color of rich mahogany, in his hand. As he laid it on the bed, Diana noticed it looked considerably old—possibly several decades.

  “What’s that?”

  “Clothes,” Darien replied with a smile. “I told Mr. Cartwright about our present dilemma and he showed me to an old storage closet where his father used to keep belongings left behind by guests. The only suitable clothing I could find was in this old trunk.”

  Unhooking the metal latches, Darien opened the trunk to reveal the contents. Diana quickly stepped out from behind him and started rummaging through them. She wrinkled her nose at the musty smell of the clothes, and couldn’t help but think she’d have to deal with a headache once she put them on.

  “Well, at least it’s better than wearing bathrobes,” Diana said with a smirk.

  Once they both pieced together suitable ensembles, Diana was more than ready to finally eat. She’d settled on a tan woolen skirt, which fell to her calves, and a loose fitting white blouse that she tucked into it. For shoes, she wore a pair of cream-colored, conservative, heels, with three thin buckled straps.

  Diana definitely felt like her grandmother in these clothes. Having woven her damp hair into a quick messy bun, she couldn’t help but feel she’d finally completed her metamorphosis into a librarian.

  Darien’s outfit consisted of light brown slacks, a blue dress shirt, and a dark brown suit jacket—made complete with brown dress shoes. Not quite as dashing as his elven formals, but he still looked rather handsome.

  Breakfast was served in a quaint dining room just down the hall from the bar area. The “Full English Breakfast” consisted of two eggs over easy, sausage links, large pieces of bacon—that looked more like ham—baked beans, a couple slices of roasted tomato, and some peculiar black cake-patty that smelled a bit of onion. It looked like heaven to Diana’s starving tummy and she immediately dug into the food—in the most dignified manner she could muster.

  When she finally took a moment to glance at Darien, he was happily sipping his tea with an amused smirk on his face.

  “Don’t stop on my account,” he said with sarcasm.

  “Sorry,” Diana apologized. “I haven’t eaten a lot the last few days.” She noticed Darien had only eaten a few pieces of toast and a few bites of egg white. “You’re not hungry?”

  “I just enjoy watching you, is all,” he replied, looking content sipping his tea.

  “Well eat a little more; I don’t want to worry about you collapsing or something later.”

  “As my lady commands,” he said playfully and cut into the eggs on his plate. “By the way,” he began as he gestured to the black cake that remained uneaten on her plate. “I wouldn’t eat the Black Pudding, if I were you. It’s basically fried onions and congealed pig’s blood.”

  “Ugh, gross.” Diana felt a bit of her breakfast come up at the description. “Thanks for the warning.”

  Looking to the large grandfather clock against the wall, Diana noticed it was time to take her prescription. Instinctively reaching for her purse, Diana immediately remembered she left it behind in Qir’Aflonas.

  “Crap—I don’t have my pills,” she said aloud in frustration.

  Darien’s concern quickly showed. “Is it life threatening?” he asked. “What ailment do you need them for?”

  Diana started to blush, but considering the previous night, realized she had nothing to be embarrassed about. “Nothing that importa
nt; just my birth-control pills.”

  Darien chuckled, appearing thoroughly amused. Diana felt confused, and a bit annoyed, by it.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Your pills aren’t necessary,” he replied before taking a sip of tea. “It’s not possible for you to conceive a child by me.”

  “I don’t just take it for that,” Diana said in defense, crossing her arms over her chest. “It helps regulates my cycles. But what do you mean, it’s not possible?”

  Darien chewed the forkful of egg that he just shoved into his mouth before answering.

  “We’re magical beings that walk in both the physical and spiritual planes. Like everything else, conception occurs in both planes as well. Since you are a completely physical being, it’s just not possible.”

  The notion of not being able to have any future children with Darien filled Diana’s heart with a profound sense of loss. As a human, would she never be able to start a family with him? But I’m not a normal human, am I? If her suspicions are correct, and she really is a Moonshadow, perhaps they could have family after all. She needed to know more.

  “How do elves exist in the first place?” Diana asked. “How did spiritual beings like the Fallen have children with ancient humans?”

  “Humans weren’t always as they are now; they were once magical beings, as well.” He leaned back in his chair and shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps Elberon changed them so what happened before could never happen again.”

  “I think I understand,” she said. If magical humans could have children with completely spiritual beings like the Kratari, it certainly seemed feasible that they could do the same with half-breeds like the Naphalei.

  Diana didn’t quite know what to make of it all, but it was enough for now. Darien seemed fairly certain humans couldn’t have children with Naphalei however, whether they were magical or not. Regardless, given their unique situation, she hadn’t been sure her birth-control would even work.

  “That’s one less thing to worry about, I guess,” Diana said, smiling. “We have enough on our plate with your sister wanting to chop my head off.”

  “Yes, about that,” Darien said, his countenance quickly becoming serious. “You will be going on home alone.” It sounded like Diana didn’t have choice in the matter. “I’m staying here to talk to Edea. Perhaps I can make her see reason enough to let you live.”

  “Like hell,” she replied, her anger rising. “I’m not leaving you. What if they kill you or send you into the Nightmare?”

  Darien reached over and took her hand in his with a smile of assurance.

  “My sister has no intentions of harming me, or disgracing our family. She wanted you taken care of discretely, remember? Once you’re safe, I can talk to her rationally about the situation.”

  Diana still wasn’t convinced it was a good idea.

  “And what exactly are you going to tell her about our situation? I thought what we did last night was a capital crime.”

  “I’ll just convince Edea that her decision was rash and that there is nothing romantic between us. I won’t be caught off guard this time. As for our making love, that is our business and no one else’s.”

  Diana couldn’t help but smile at the memories.

  “I don’t like going on alone,” she said with a sigh. “But I suppose I have no choice in the matter, do I?”

  Darien smiled back. “No, you don’t. I made the arrangements while you were in the refresher earlier. A car will be here in twenty minutes to take you to the airport.”

  Diana wanted to be angry with him for taking such liberties without her consent, but she knew it’d been the right course of action.

  After finishing breakfast, they went back upstairs to prepare Diana for the journey home. Mr. Cartwright offered to let her keep the old trunk, so she folded up her damp ball gown and placed it alongside rest of the musty old clothes. With everything packed and ready, Diana placed Darien’s mother’s necklace around her neck, double looping it and placing it in the front.

  “I know it’s supposed to be worn the other way,” she said, turning to Darien. “But I don’t want to draw attention to myself and I just can’t bear not to wear it.”

  Effected by her sentiment, Darien took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly.

  “I love you, Diana Selene,” he said with a warm smile and a sparkle in his gray eyes.

  “I love you too—” her words caught upon a sudden realization. “Would you rather I call you Endymion? I’ve just been so used to calling you Darien that I never thought to ask.”

  His smile belonged to her alone.

  “Who I was before you came into my life doesn’t matter. I will always be your Darien.”

  This time, it was Diana who initiated the kiss.

  “I love you, my Darien.”

  The ring of the bedside phone ended the moment and Diana frowned—the taxi had arrived and it was time for her to leave his side.

  With time passing much too quickly, Diana was soon sitting in the backseat of the taxi, next to her new—old—luggage, saying her goodbyes to Darien as he stood next to the open car door.

  “When you get to the airport, seek out a customs officer name Stevens and give him this.” He pulled out a folded note from his jacket pocket and handed it to Diana. It contained a scribbled message and the faint impression of the Stoneheart signet ring. “He should be able to provide you with travel papers since your passport is still in Qir’Aflonas.

  “Sounds good,” Diana said with a nod. “I was a bit worried about that.”

  “My business shouldn’t take very long,” he continued with a smile, reassuring Diana that he’d be alright. “I will call on you when I return.”

  “You’d better,” she replied. “Or I might just leave you for Andrew.”

  Darien laughed and kissed her on the forehead. “Then I shall be back as soon as possible.”

  Darien shut the door, signaling to the driver to take her speedily away from him.

  As the car drove down the street, Darien remained where she had left him, waving goodbye. As his image grew smaller and smaller by the second, Diana hoped with all her heart that she would see him again. She didn’t know what forces were out their beyond the reality she knew, but she prayed they would keep Darien safe until she could be in his arms once again.

  Once they turned the corner of High Street, and Darien was completely out of sight, Diana sat forward. Taking one last glance at the ruins of Glastonbury Abbey as they passed by in the distance, Diana knew she’d need to calm her emotions or the journey to the airport was going to be a long one. Perhaps she could keep her mind occupied by poking around in the old trunk.

  Looking over, Diana noticed something she hadn’t before—a small metal plate under the handle, with the engraved initials A.F.F.

  It only took a moment for the realization to dawn in her mind and she quickly opened the trunk to rummage inside. There had to be some sort of identification as to who the owner had been.

  Then she found it—a tag sewed into the lining on the bottom. Diana smiled at the name as she read it, knowing she’d been right. Alexander Foxwell Flinders, 7 Cannon Place, Hampstead.

  The clue he’d left in Charlotte’s tomb hadn’t led to Qir’Aflonas and Silvermoon Palace, it’d led to Glastonbury and The Red Dragon Inn.

  Diana and Darien had found what they’d been searching for after all.

  Chapter 19

  Have I escaped that hell of shadow lusts?

  By what pathway have I fled the darkness?

  I remember only mother’s bright light,

  And the haunting pain of her sacrifice.

  Diana awoke suddenly to a shake of the shoulder and the concerned enquires of a perky blonde woman standing over her. With her mind unable to process her surroundings, Diana took in the sight of the rows of empty seats as the swirling shadows of the Veil fled the corners of her vision.

  She was still on the plane.

  Shaking the haze away,
Diana tried to focus on what her consciousness had been experiencing. It definitely hadn’t felt like any Veil dream she’d had in the past. All she could recall now was quick flashes of lightning, swirling mists, and walls of quaking rocks. It had felt like she was constantly shifting through Veilscapes with her consciousness unable to find an anchor within fast changing realities. Perhaps it was related to sleeping while flying across the skies—a plausible notion. Although, she hadn’t experienced the Veil at all while onboard the airship. Could it be related to her experience within the Temple? She’d stood before the threshold of the Pit of Shadows, gazing down at the Fallen’s prison; Diana would be a fool to think the experience hadn’t affected her, somehow.

  Quickly growing more alert, Diana realized the woman standing over her was a flight attendant.

  “I’m sorry,” Diana apologized. “I must have fallen asleep.”

  “Are you alright, miss?” The attendant asked, with a good amount of concern on her face. “We’ve been on the ground for some time and everyone has already exited the craft.”

  Finding the woman’s concern surprising, Diana stood up to survey her surroundings. Just as she had said, the entire cabin was empty of people save for Diana and the personnel.

  How did I sleep through the landing process? That could wake anyone.

  Pushing the matter away for the time being, Diana gave her attention to the attendant.

  “I’m sorry. I must have been really tired. Thanks for your concern.”

  Diana swiftly left the awkwardness behind and exited the aircraft in a hurry. Luckily she didn’t have a carry-on to lug off, so she was able to bolt through the terminal. When she finally reached the rolling conveyer belts of the baggage claim, only then did Diana realize she had no ride home.

  With her mind a hazy mess, Diana sat down on a nearby bench to regain her bearings. She felt so utterly disoriented. Hadn’t she just left England? The entire journey from Glastonbury until now was a blur of emotions, smiling faces of airport personnel, and Veilscapes. She remembered feeling terribly exhausted once she finally sat down on the plane, which was only natural, considering she hadn’t slept in over 24 hours. The next thing Diana knew of the waking world was being jostled awake by the flight attendant, not long ago. She felt out of Time. This is one hell of a case of jetlag.