A Threat of Shadows

by JA Andrews

  Energy trickled out of his hand, so little needed to end what had cost him so much energy to build.

  When the last line faded, he stopped. Nothing had changed. The ruby still swirled slowly. Evangeline lay still, but now he could feel her body living.

  Alaric set the ruby on her stomach. Reaching toward the ruby, feeling the energy that spun through it, he began the process of pulling it out and letting it fall back into Evangeline’s body.

  It happened more quickly than he expected, the amount of vitalle in the ruby was so much less than it had originally been. In the span of a few breaths, the ruby sat dark and cold. He moved it off to the side, then set his hand on Evangeline’s forehead.

  “Excita,” he said gently, feeling the rush of energy flow out of his palm.

  Evangeline gasped a weak, shallow breath. Her body twitched and her brow drew down in pain.

  Alaric heard a strangled noise and realized it was his own breath. He grabbed for her hand and leaned over her. Her fingers were ice cold. Evangeline’s body began to thrash, her head tossing from side to side, her back arching.

  Alaric remembered. He remembered the pain she had endured. He remembered how inadequate his skills had been to give her comfort. He remembered knowing she was going to die. And he remembered the terror of that idea.

  Then Evangeline’s body relaxed. She breathed heavily, for a few breaths, but even that began to calm. Alaric looked at Ayda. She was using both hands to hold onto Evangeline’s. The elf’s eyes were shut, her brow drawn slightly.

  A small sigh escaped Evangeline’s mouth, and Alaric whipped his attention back to her.

  Her eyes were open and looking at him.

  He felt his breath catch in his throat and he leaned close to her.

  “I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

  Alaric reached out and brushed her hair back from her face, bringing his forehead down on hers. She closed her eyes and smiled.

  Alaric pulled back, unable to take his eyes off her, but unable to speak. He wanted to apologize, to tell her how much he loved her, but he could barely breathe. He just gripped her hand and stared at her face. She looked so peaceful, so normal. Her cheeks had regained some color and her eyes were bright.

  Evangeline looked at Ayda, and Alaric opened his mouth, but no words came out.

  Ayda, whose face was pale and drawn, gave a little snort. “I’m Ayda,” she said. “I’ve been traveling with your husband for a bit. Fighting dragons, saving the world, things like that.”

  Evangeline gave a weak smile. “That’s the sort of thing he does.” She looked down at her hand encased in the elf’s small hands. “You’re pulling the pain back, aren’t you?”

  Ayda gave her a tight, tired smile.

  “Thank you,” Evangeline whispered.

  Alaric stared at her for a moment. She looked so healthy. He hadn’t seen her look so healthy in… so very long. He barely remembered that her skin was always a little golden. It had been pale and waxy for so long.

  “Evangeline,” Alaric said, his voice barely audible, “we don’t have much time.” His hands gripped her so hard that he had begun to drive away some of the coldness. “I’m so very, very sorry. I couldn’t…” He found himself floundering. “I found the antidote. But it’s not enough. I’m so sorry.” He reached for her face. “I’ve missed you every second.”

  “And I you,” she said, her voice growing a little stronger. She looked at him with those clear eyes and smiled. “It wasn’t your job to stop death, Alaric. Even great Keepers can’t do that.”

  “They should be able to,” he whispered.

  “I’m glad I met you, Alaric,” she said softly. “And I’m glad you will soon be free of”—she looked down at herself—”of this burden. You should have more of a life than this.”

  “He saved the world just yesterday,” Ayda said. “Fought a great wizard and defeated Mallon.”

  Evangeline raised one eyebrow. “Not to take away from your victory, but wasn’t Mallon already dead?”

  “Mostly,” Alaric said, smiling slightly.

  “Well,” Evangeline said, “it’s been a long time since you’ve done Keeper things. You should ease back into it. Maybe you can work your way up to fighting someone who is fully alive.”

  Evangeline’s eyebrows drew down suddenly, and she looked over at the hand Ayda was holding.

  “Whatever you’re doing,” she said to the elf, “it’s working. I feel… wonderful.”

  Ayda smiled again, but her face was pale.

  A noise near the door caught Alaric’s attention. Brandson and Douglon were standing against the wall, looking as though they would like to sink into it. Milly had tears in her eyes.

  Evangeline glanced at Alaric. “I think I could sit up.”

  Alaric looked at her in surprise and noticed a strong pulse in her neck. He pulled up her hand and saw fingertips pink and healthy. Evangeline lifted her head, and Alaric quickly reached an arm behind her to help her sit.

  Suddenly, there was a strangled yell and Douglon threw himself across the room.

  The dwarf reached Ayda just as she toppled to the floor.

  Chapter 56

  Evangeline took a deep breath and stretched her hands. They looked healthy and strong. Alaric reached down quickly to see where the arrow had pierced her. Instead of the scabbed, swollen, black thigh he had seen for the past year, he saw smooth, clean skin with a small scar sitting right above the knee.

  “Ayda!” he breathed, turning toward the elf. “How?”

  Ayda lay in Douglon’s arms, her face white, barely breathing.

  “What have you done?” Alaric demanded.

  Ayda smiled weakly.

  Douglon’s arms gripped her tighter. “You stupid elf,” he whispered. “You stupid, stupid, stupid elf.”

  Evangeline was sitting steadily so Alaric pulled his arm away from her and knelt next to Ayda.

  “It turns out,” Ayda said, “that there is someone who had enough life in her to heal your wife.”

  He reached out and took Ayda’s hand, which was ice cold. Her fingers were snowy white.

  “Oh, Ayda,” he says quietly, “you didn’t.”

  She smiled weakly at him. “You were willing to sacrifice yourself. Is it so strange that I should do the same? You know, sometimes people break away from wallowing in their pasts long enough to commit to something.”

  “But… you’re the last elf.”

  “What better reason is there?”

  “You sacrificed all your people, too?”

  “My people agreed to die eight years ago. Their lives have not been their own since. I have needed them for many things. I needed them to hold back the darkness. I needed them to take that darkness and destroy Mallon. And now I needed them to heal Evangeline.”

  “But…”

  “I told you I wanted to sleep,” she said quietly.

  A sob tore out of Douglon, and Ayda looked up at him. She reached up and lifted his chin a bit so that she could see his face. There were tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes bored into the elf, and now it was Alaric who felt suddenly intrusive. But he didn’t want to move and break the moment.

  “You stupid elf,” Douglon said.

  “You can stop looking at me like that, Douglon. It’s just a charm,” Ayda said. “Just a charm to burn off some of this power.”

  She looked around the room again, her brow puckered slightly with guilt. “I had too much power. It kept leaking out.” A short giggle escaped her, sounding bitter. “I kept dropping little flames without knowing it. I was afraid I was going to burn down the world.”

  She looked back at Douglon and continued, an edge of self-loathing in her voice, “So I created a charm that worked constantly. A small, steady stream of power that would trickle out in the hopes that the destructive things would stop. Now animals like me, trees talk to me constantly, and even dwarves can set aside their disgust for us a bit.”

  “So you can stop looking like that Dou
glon. What you’re feeling is just the charm. When I’m gone, the feelings will be, too.”

  Douglon had looked at her steadily the whole time she had been speaking, not moving. Alaric searched his face for some sign of his thoughts, but the dwarf just stared at Ayda with that burning intensity that made Alaric feel intrusive again.

  “It’s not a charm,” Douglon said finally. His words were so quiet that Alaric found himself leaning forward. “I know about the charm. Everyone knows about the charm.”

  Ayda turned her head quickly around the room. Brandson nodded slightly. Milly shrugged and looked apologetic. When Ayda turned toward Alaric, he smiled slightly.

  “Well,” she said petulantly, “just knowing about it doesn’t keep it from working.”

  “It’s not working now.” Douglon had not looked away from her face.

  Ayda’s eyes snapped back to him.

  “It hasn’t worked since you destroyed Mallon.”

  Alaric shifted slightly. That could be true. Ayda had been much less sparkly since then.

  “The charm wanted me to think your eyes were darker and your hair glittered more than it does.” He ran one dark hand across the golden curl that spilled over her shoulder. “And that you were taller than you really are.”

  She let out a small laugh. “I’m short, you know. For an elf.”

  Douglon let a small smile curl up the corner of his mouth. “Dwarves aren’t particularly attracted to height,” he pointed out. “It only works when you are around. I never think of you as tall when you are too far away.”

  “See?” she said, reaching her hand up tentatively to touch his beard.

  Douglon stared at her a long moment. “The charm would make me want you to stay because I would think the room a gloomier place once you leave. But what do you think it is that makes me know now that the room really will be gloomy with you gone?”

  Douglon reached up and pressed her hand against his cheek. Ayda’s eyes widened slightly.

  “What do you think it is that helps me to know that I love the real color of your hair, not that awful glittery nonsense you try to make me think you have?”

  Alaric barely dared to breath for fear of interrupting. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Milly reach over and hold Brandson’s hand.

  “What makes me wonder whether I’ll ever return home again? Whether it wouldn’t be better just to travel with you?”

  Ayda was looking up at him, her eyes wide, her hand still pressed against his cheek. Alaric could almost see her slip into Douglon’s mind. The dwarf sat perfectly still.

  After a long moment, Ayda drew in a long breath. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know.”

  Douglon shrugged, but his eyes burned into her. “That’s because you are never paying attention.”

  Ayda reached up behind him, reaching for his axe blade. “It was selfish of Patlon’s elf to choose purple. She thought only of herself. You, Douglon, should have red,” she said to him, reaching her hand out to touch the handle of his axe. From the tip of her finger, tendrils of red fire spread along the axe handle, freezing to look like real flames.

  “There you are,” she said sweetly, sinking a little lower against him. “Now it’s an unbreakable axe.”

  Douglon looked back at his axe handle, then cupped Ayda’s face gently in his hand. She met his gaze and something passed between them.

  She looked around the room, finding Brandson, Milly, and even Evangeline’s eyes.

  Finally, Ayda turned to Alaric and he felt her mind. He drew back slightly when he felt how weak it was. It was just an elven mind, a plain, weakened, elven mind.

  Alaric sat very still, his mind probing hers slightly. Her mind was so very small, its power almost depleted. He found himself casting around for something to do, some way to give her more power, some strength.

  Stop it, her voice snapped through his mind. I have made my choice. My people are finally gone. It took them all, in the end, to replace all of the death that was in Evangeline. They were so much weaker than they had once been. Stop feeling sorry for them. There was never going to be a different ending.

  Alaric shook his head, but she continued.

  Thank you. All I wanted, all we wanted, was to destroy Mallon. And I would have failed without you. Healing Evangeline is my thank you.

  Alaric felt her mind waver, then it slipped back out of his mind, leaving him feeling empty.

  Ayda smiled weakly at him, then sank back into Douglon’s arms. Her head drooped forward, and a curtain of golden hair fell across it.

  Douglon let out a shuddering sob and pulled her close, but she did not move again.

  Chapter 57

  The sun sat low over the mountains, the sky stretched out overhead in a clear blue that felt serene, but empty. Alaric stood with his arm around Evangeline on the balcony of the room he had always intended to share with her, near the top of the tower. He listened to her speak, but her words were interrupted by the thrumming of her heart and the sound of her breathing. He cast out wave after wave just to sense the blazing core of energy inside of her. Beneath his arm, she leaned against him, warm and secure, not quite strong enough to stand on her own. But she was alive. Her face was bright and animated and so very alive.

  “You’re doing it again,” she said, her smile teasing.

  Alaric blinked and laughed. “Sorry. I have no idea what you just said.” He pulled her around and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back. “It’s just that your alive-ness is so distracting.”

  “Alive-ness? Is that a technical Keeper term?”

  “Yes. Don’t be intimidated by my sophistication.”

  She looked at him curiously. “Are you still a Keeper?”

  Alaric dropped his forehead down to hers. It had taken some getting used to, learning that she hadn’t really been asleep all that time. He had been terrified that she’d be angry, but when they’d had their first moments alone, she had just stretched her hands out, flexing her fingers and then touching his face. “I’m too happy to be mad,” she’d said. “I know what you did and why. Besides, it wouldn’t be entirely fair if I’d just gotten to sleep while you were spending all that time tortured.” But she had smiled when she said it, and just like that, the issue was dismissed, dropped back into the realm of things in the past that are over now.

  She knew all the things he had spoken to her during her long sickness. All the confessions of failure, all the fury at the Keepers for not helping him, all the anger, all the desperation. All the times he had sworn he was done being a Keeper.

  “I’m not sure I’m the same Keeper I used to be, but… yes, I still am one. I have some ideas about how things need to change at the Stronghold, but I think there’s a chance it can all work out reasonably well. How do you feel about spending some time at court?”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Well, I’m fancy enough for it.” She gave a little curtsey in her old traveling dress and bare feet, holding onto his arm to steady herself.

  He smiled. “It’s busy there and there are some horrific people, but I think you’ll like Saren. And Ewan is there.

  “At some point, I need to go see if I can figure out what happened to Will. When he left the palace, he was headed to the Roven Sweep to look into something with the nomads. But he should have been back a long time ago.”

  “As long as we don’t volunteer for any fire lizard hunts on the way,” she said, “I’m willing.”

  Alaric rested his chin on her head. There were too many emotions swirling inside him to pick just one. Evangeline was right here, standing, talking, breathing. But in a room below them, Ayda lay still and cold.

  He let his mind stop spinning. He breathed in the scent of Evangeline’s skin. He felt the cool breeze and the cooler stones of the balcony. He listened to the quiet rustling of the world.

  In the midst of all the emotions, he felt a small green shoot of peace begin to grow. It was a peace tinged with sorrow and loss, but it was rooted in a
profound rightness.

  ***

  Ayda was laid out peacefully on Evangeline’s table.

  Alaric and Douglon had moved it to the balcony, and placed one tree on each side of her, their blooms just waiting to burst open.

  Douglon stood stationed at her feet.

  Alaric stepped up to Ayda’s side, his arm still around Evangeline.

  Milly straightened Ayda’s dress and touched the ring of purple flowers that encircled her waist.

  “These flowers are still alive!” she said, looking closely at one tiny daisy-like bloom. “How long has she worn this?”

  Brandson stepped forward, his eyes red. His brow drew a bit and he said, “I think always.”

  “She was wearing it the day we met her,” Douglon said.

  “They’re beginning to fade a bit at the edges,” Milly said.

  The very edge of each petal was curling. Alaric looked at Douglon, and the dwarf nodded.

  Alaric traced some runes in the air above Ayda’s body, letting the slow energy pour out of his hands. A shimmer appeared. It stretched until it encompassed all of her, then hardened, perfectly clear.

  Alaric set his hand lightly on the crystal. Beneath it, Ayda’s body lay perfectly still.

  “Will it keep her like this forever?” Milly asked quietly.

  “Not forever,” Alaric said. “But for a long time. It should take years for even the flowers to wilt.” He studied the flowers for a moment. “I don’t even know what sort of flowers those are. I wonder if they have any healing properties?” The question came out more out of habit than curiosity.

  Evangeline peered down at the little purple flowers. “Those are Lumen Daisies. They grow everywhere in the Greenwood.”

  Alaric raised his eyebrow. “You’ve never been in the Greenwood.”

  Evangeline’s brow creased and she looked up at Alaric. “I know. But I also know that these flowers have no medicinal value and are a favorite gift among the elves. They symbolize… home.”