Calico (The Covenant of Shadows Book 2)

by Kade Cook

  “You ready?” he asks, nearly tearing up himself.

  “Yah,” she whispers, letting her eyes rest in his.

  He grabs her in a quick embrace and kisses the top of her head then lets her go to face the covenant.

  It is time.

  Her heart leaps into her throat as they edge closer to the table. Vaeda rises from her perch, her beautiful face warm and inviting as she stretches out her hand to motion toward Gabrian’s usual spot. “Good evening, Gabrian, please come sit down.”

  Gabrian nods and marches to the stone chair. Ignoring all the taunting whispers, she lifts her chin and continues her stride, still searching the table for Ethan. She lets out a sigh when their eyes meet. A friend—her friend—one with answers.

  Ethan, I need to talk to you.

  We can talk after. We must get through the formalities with the concerns brought to the house first. Then we can talk about anything you wish to discuss. Just answer their questions as best as you can and try not to tick anyone off in the process.

  Gabrian catches the humour around the edges of his eyes as the words reach her mind. But he still cannot hide from the seriousness of why they are all gathered here.

  She bites her lips and nods with a subtle dip of her head.

  Fine but if I make it through this—

  When... he interrupts

  Fine, when I make it through this, we really need to talk. It’s about something my father said.

  What? Ethan’s humour is gone and his eyes hold a strange storm within them. What do you mean your father?

  Adrinn...I went to see him and he told me...

  Gabrian, what were you doing with that thing? If the rest of the Covenant finds out that you are counseling with it, with him, do you know how much trouble you would be in?

  Yes, I know, but he told me the Covenant is tainted, that the responsibility for the attack on me the other night lies within the Elders of the Covenant. Her eyes slip to peer at the group in front of her, snagging on Cimmerian and then Caspyous.

  Gabrian, that monster knows nothing but lies and evilness. Why would you believe anything he says to you after what he has already done?

  I don’t know...there is just something that rings true about it. I can feel it in my gut. Those men kept calling me an abomination, Gabrian’s eyes widen, returning to her friend as she silently pleads with Ethan to listen to her explanation. She bends forward, resting her mouth on her fisted hand, and bites at the edge of her lip. ...That they were told to kill the abomination. Adrinn thinks there is more to this attack than just a random act, and that I need to be done away with because of what I am, because of the fear of what I may become.

  All right, all right...calm down. Let’s just get through this first then we will figure out a plan to sort out this conspiracy theory you have been informed of. Deal? Ethan rubs his hands through his hair, leaving it in a mess as he drops his arm to rest on the marble table in front of him.

  Deal, Gabrian says, rolling her eyes. If, that is, I do survive this.

  It will be okay, you have more friends than foe sitting at this table. Just breathe.

  Okay, breathing it is. She gives him a fake smile and inhales a deep exaggerated breath.

  Oh, and please bite your tongue if you can.

  Fine. Biting of the tongue has commenced. She purses her lips together tightly in a show of faith in her friend’s words.

  Fine.

  Having kept his eyes glued to her since she entered the room, Caspyous catches the silent conversation being had between Gabrian and Ethan. Knowing that nothing good can come of this, he goes out of his way to make it stop.

  “When the two of you are done having your privileged and private conversation, maybe you might want to remember to address the questions of your Elders in the proper way, out loud,” he booms at the table, not looking at either of them at first but then raises his eyes slowly. He gives Ethan a narrowed glance then lets his focus slip across the table to rest upon Gabrian, allowing the hatred he feels for her show in his eyes, and lets its intensity reach her, making Gabrian feel as if it is burning a hole through to the center of her soul.

  Throughout the inquisition, Gabrian answers when questioned and retells the happenings to the best of her ability. She allows Ethan to display a mental replay of the events to the members of the High Table up until the part where the explosion had occurred and she was thrown from the building. The imagery is too hazy and confusing to use as evidence. At that point, Arramus picks up the story, explaining what he encountered upon finding her body within the burning debris. Gabrian is even a little intrigued to listen to his recount of when he had found her, still on fire.

  He continues explaining that her injuries were minor compared to what they should have been, not to mention the exaggerated speed of her recovery. Even for a Boragen, being blown to bits and set on fire should have put her regenerative abilities into overdrive, taking days to recover, but this is unheard of.

  Her eyes shift to the left. She catches something in the rumblings around the table, something that hitches her breath in her lungs. It is a word, not spoken out loud, but a rancid thought swirling with such malicious hatred that catches her attention—a thought that grabs Ethan’s attention as well.

  Ethan, did you hear that?

  Yes, I heard it.

  Well?

  I will look into it. You stay out of it.

  Fine.

  The meeting runs on, emotions running at the table becoming elevated beyond a diplomatic display of confidence. Vaeda and Orroryn agree to dismiss Gabrian until things can be sorted out and brought back under check.

  “I can’t believe that this thing has you all fooled. Since the moment its presence was discovered there has been nothing but disruption and mayhem, all of it fallen around us with the youngling running wild at the center.” Caspyous shouts, his face reddened and his eyes piercing, filled with accusation. “Orroryn and Vaeda have become complacent when dealing with these issues not to mention the side entourage of Elders who have a claim of obvious affection for it. Even Cimmerian’s tolerance for the creature has subsided into succession.”

  Cimmerian merely raises his brow and waves the Elder’s accusations away, his eyes skimming the table for any lingering gazes in his direction.

  The Hydor Elder continues his rant. His body becomes more rigid and the knuckles in his fist whiten in his passionate speech. “Things must change, your eyes need to be awakened, and if I were the head of this table...”

  A sudden shift in the air around the table brings the table to an eerie silence and everyone’s attention is drawn toward Vaeda. Having been patient with Caspyous, and letting him have his say for long enough, it is time to end his disrespectful rant, one that comes to an abrupt halt with the stifling intensity within his lungs.

  “But, you are not head of this table, are you?” she hums, her words clear, concise, and in a controlled tone that reminds everyone of who is in charge indeed.

  Gasping a bit for breath, Caspyous grips his throat when the words fail to continue. The fiery lust to discount the leadership’s abilities in front of the group have been set aside for a moment in his discomfort, and rest quietly back into his chair to gather himself.

  Even though the bounds of magic within the Covenant of Shadows is strong to keep the safety of those within at a balance—much like the gift of the Boragen’s telepathy—the Zephyr’s gift to control the air still has its strength. Nothing like it would be outside the walls of the sanctuary but still enough to tip the scale to enforce some much-needed control.

  Vaeda watches the once-enraged Elder settle into a quieter state of being. He doesn’t have to like her, but this gentle display is just a reminder he does need to respect her station and her ruling without compromise.

  “I apologize,” she says, filling her lungs with a sigh, her eyes resting on Caspyous as he meets her stare with defiance. “But I will have you remember who it is that you are addressing, and I will not have you
bring that kind of subordination to the table,” she continues, never once breaking eye contact with him until he finally blinks and looks away. “Maybe now would be a good time to stretch our legs and regroup in a moment to finalize this with clearer and calmer heads.” Vaeda offers to them, her eyes soft now and dancing around, touching upon each of the Elders to ensure all of them of her kind intention.

  Caspyous turns to glare at his normal counterpart but Cimmerian only allows himself a quick glance, then shrugs, his usual cold sneer wearing on his face. He turns his focus back to staring at his folded hands. He is not going to engage with Caspyous, he has enough trouble of his own to deal with—primarily covering his tracks. Adding fuel to Caspyous’ fire is only going to lead him into the mental scan of Ethan, a place he wants to avoid like the plague.

  Not receiving the support he wanted from his peer, Caspyous jolts himself out of his chair and grumbles in Cimmerian’s direction as he marches away, his fists clenched white in frustration and his jaw squared tight in anger.

  Gabrian, bored with waiting for the judgement of the Elders to fall on her, wanders through the halls of the Covenant. Avoiding as many people as possible and keeping to the outskirts of the main hall, she explores, taking in all the eclectic marvels nestled into this private world. A flicker in the distance draws her attention to the reflection of shifting colours upon the smooth marbled walls within. Happening upon the spot where she and Ethan had sat the last time, the final time her father had been here with her, Gabrian sits quietly within the edifice, trying not to let her hatred for it consume her.

  Her eyes dampen, drifting in a daze across the mouths of the fire lit cauldrons, and rest upon one without a flame. Her heart sinks as she compares herself to the pot. Empty, alone, and without a hope in this mess of a life she has wound up in.

  Folding her arms over head, she lowers her elbows and rests on her knees. Exhausted from the constant coursing of adrenaline keeping her alert and ready with a brave face for each and every question the Covenant demanded answers for, Gabrian quiets her mind—just for a moment.

  A monstrosity, an abomination and an insult to the Realm, you should have been destroyed, ripped apart, and left to burn!

  Gabrian lifts her head, swallowing down the pocket of air stuck within her throat. Her body shivers and her fingertips blister with heat as the venomous words strike, knowing they are directed at her. They are not just words drifting in a subconscious image, they are projected at her—the same way she and Ethan converse, a Boragen trait. She clenches her fist, containing the heat within her palms, and wrenches her neck to find the source.

  Staring at her from across the room she sees him, all his fury and hatred radiating toward her—the Hydor Elder. She squints her eyes at him, unaware he possessed such a gift, not until now.

  Even though the halls are filled with Realmsfolk, she feels alone, and at any moment he will strike her down. She holds the upper hand if it were to come to a physical confrontation. She would outlast his beating and he would fail from sheer exhaustion, not to mention the deadly counter attacks she could use with her newly discovered gifts, but it is not a theory she wants to test today.

  The tension between them grows beyond uncomfortable. Gabrian breaks from the stare down and rushes in the direction of the High Table, uninvited and searching for Ethan.

  55

  CALL THE GUARDS

  CLOSING HIS EYES, ETHAN calms his mind to focus all his gifts to search the Hall for understanding and solid proof for the argument he is about propose. Finding what he needs, he raises his lids and takes a deep breath as his heart sinks.

  “Would you all please remain?” Ethan’s voice is low, urgent, and weighted with sadness as the words leave his mouth. “Vaeda, Orroryn, I request an immediate closed discussion.”

  Eyes of the Elders dance around the table as they seek out their usual seated positions, each carrying a twisted brow as they do.

  “Yes, of course, Ethan.” Vaeda leans in to the table, folding her hands in her lap, and nods as she glances over at Orroryn to seek his answer.

  “But we are not all here.” Orroryn announces, eyeing the empty chair. “Shall we pause to send a guardian to find Caspyous?”

  “No, it is not necessary,” Ethan spits out, eyes wide and alert. “I also request this session to be guarded immediately.”

  All the Elders shift in their seats, searching for signs of understanding of what this concerns—all but one. Cimmerian does not make a move. His hands tighten, heart raging within the confines of his chest, but his body does not budge. His black eyes lift to gauge the crowd but shift, gluing them to Ethan.

  He takes extra precaution to push away and conceal any and all thoughts which may have anything to do with his involvement with Gabrian, his hatred for her kind, and his obligatory tie to the phantom menace which haunts him. Cimmerian swallows, narrowing his stare, and steadies himself. Ethan surely cannot know what I have done, can he?

  “What is all this about?” Ashen inquires before Cimmerian finds the courage to choke out the question himself.

  “I will explain in just a moment, but I will need the guards.” Ethan folds his fingers in a loose knot as his elbows reach the edge of the marbled table, and he leans in, eyes landing on Cimmerian.

  “Very well, as you wish.” Orroryn nods, lifting from his chair. His hand rises as his voice echoes across the room in a low absolute command. “Schaeduwe, shadow the Elders.” Hidden guardians emerge and surface from within the crowd and slip toward their Elder. Orroryn’s hand spins once at the top of his wrist and the bodies of the devoted form a wall around the leaders of the Realm. Tynan takes his place within the wall of Schaeduwe, his eyes darting between Orroryn and his search for his niece. “Tynan, step out. Maintain the wall from the outside.”

  Breaking formation without hesitation, Tynan nods and takes his position on the outside without a word, noticing Gabrian heading in their direction.

  56

  HYPOCRITICAL MIND

  GABRIAN RUSHES TOWARD her uncle, eager to get away from Caspyous, and in need of her friend’s guidance. She watches the group of Shadow Walkers join together, forming a circle of flesh around the place she needs to get to. She pushes her thoughts out to Ethan but cannot make a connection. Seeing her uncle standing outside of it all, she hurries toward him. “What is going on? I need to get to Ethan. I need to tell him something quickly.”

  “It will have to wait,” Tynan replies in a dry monotone voice, staring straight ahead.

  She studies his change in demeanor and realizes he is now on duty. He is not her uncle right now but a Guardian of the Realm, a duty that will always come first.

  Gabrian gasps as the Elders fade behind the wall of Guardians. No longer are their bodies, the table, or Gabrian’s favourite chair, visible. To her and any onlookers, all that appears is a mirage of movements within the circle as a temporary membrane of the Veil sweeps over the group—a hazy dome created by the Guardians—a gift of projection cast around all those within and powered by the souls that surround them. In the magnanimous phenomenon of what she is witnessing, Gabrian falls mute in a world filled with words.

  A loud grumbling from behind disrupts her moment of awe. Caspyous—having heard the Realmsfolk mumbling about the wall of Guardian being formed around the High Table, an act that has rarely occurred within the Realm—makes his way through the crowd, shoving them out of the way in order to clear his path back.

  “What’s going on here? Let me through,” Caspyous spits up at Tynan, demanding his entrance.

  Caspyous’ negative cold essence crashes into Gabrian and she steps to the side to get some space from it.

  “Your presence is not requested. Stand aside please. You will have to wait until the house commands the barrier be removed.”

  “What? This is nonsense,” he growls at the Guardian. “I command you to let me through.”

  Tynan shifts, eyes slipping downward to reach the Hydor Elder who stands a full foot lower t
han he, and merely twitches his brow. Caspyous may be an Elder but he, without the support of the High Table, holds no power over Tynan’s ruling and can be quickly escorted to a holding cell if need be or removed without hesitation to the outside world.

  Tynan’s look does not go unnoted.

  Caspyous pinches his eyes in a narrow hunch on the bridge of his nose and glares at the Shadow Walker, huffing loudly as he walks away, and sneaks a menacing arrow of hatred over his shoulder in Gabrian’s direction.

  Feeling the stab of the deadly glance, Gabrian shudders, knowing exactly what this man thinks of her and begins to pace, biting the edge of her thumb. She needs to tell what she knows to a sympathetic ear—an ear that can help her. After managing to wear a path in the marble floors by treading back and forth, waiting for what seems like a small eternity to reach Ethan, the mirage moves. Images of those inside focus and sound breaches the wall of Guardians as they come undone.

  Caspyous turns on his heels and barges his way through the barricade, hooting out his contempt for the unexplained actions. “What is the meaning of this?” He circles the edge of the group in a defiant strut, glaring at them all as he steps toward his seat. “How dare you exclude me from any discussions had at this table? I am Elder to the Hydor Fellowship, and I demand an explanation!” he shouts, slamming his fist down on the hard marble surface, filled with his own supreme measure of entitlement.

  Everyone remains still at the table, all eyes volley between Vaeda, Orroryn and Caspyous. Vaeda ignores his haughty show and addresses Gabrian with a gentle hum. “Gabrian, dear, please join us.”

  Gabrian nods, her eyes darting to the eyes that hold some hope for her. Ashen, Kaleb, Vaeda, a quick glance to Orroryn then a pleading stare at Ethan. She hears the vicious whispers Caspyous is trying to conceal, but it is too late, the words surface sending panic through her.