Shadow Weaver Series, Book 1

by MarcyKate Connolly

  I swallow hard. Infection? Getting hurt, sick, or infected never even occurred to me when I undertook this journey last night.

  Dar pools around my legs and squeezes my ankle. I would have kept you safe too.

  I’ll have to reassure her later, but for now, I welcome the help from Lucas and Miranda. Vague memories of skinned knees when I was little come back to me sometimes, but I can’t recall anyone ever taking such care of me except for Dar. And I’m only a stranger in Miranda’s home. Something wells up in my chest, making my eyes burn, but I blink it back.

  Miranda tends to my cuts, and I move the poultice around my arms and legs when she instructs. When she is finished, I have to admit I feel much better. Even the bruises are beginning to ache less. She stands up, sets her bowl aside, and puts her hands on her hips.

  “Now, young lady, where are your parents?”

  Heat flashes over my body.

  Lie! Dar insists, spilling over the kitchen floor like creeping mud. Or she will definitely send you back. Tell her you haven’t seen them in ages.

  “I haven’t seen them in a long time,” I say carefully. It’s somewhat true. It’s been almost a day, and it certainly does feel like a long time to me.

  Miranda sighs. “They sold you into labor, didn’t they?” She scoffs. “What kind of parents would send their child away just for a bit of peace and a handful of coins?” She settles into the chair opposite me, her eyes glancing toward her son who has been quiet but eager to help this whole time.

  “Do you know where you’re going?”

  This time I don’t have to lie. I shake my head. “No. Just away.”

  “Are they looking for you?”

  My heart leaps into my throat, but I don’t see a threat in her expression, only sympathy.

  “Probably, yes.”

  “Well then, you may stay with us for a few days if you’d like. You’ll have food and a bed, and I can keep an eye on those cuts and bruises for you. You will have to help with chores though.”

  “Mum!” Lucas objects.

  She gives him an amused look. “No one gets out of that. We all have to pull our weight. Don’t worry; it won’t be much. You can help me in the garden. It could use a good weeding.”

  “Th-thank you,” I say. “I’m happy to earn my keep.”

  “It’s settled then. Lucas, set the table. Your father will be home for dinner soon.”

  I help Lucas set out the place settings while he chats and laughs with his mother. When his father, Alfred, returns home, we sit to eat, though I’m so nervous about accidentally giving myself away I hardly touch my food. Their place settings are very different from home; they only have one fork and one spoon, not the several I’m accustomed to. There may be many more differences than I thought between me and these people.

  I told you, Dar whispers in my ear. They are not like us. They seem nice, but we must be ever on our guard. You must take care to conceal that you are not who you say you are.

  The pit of my stomach sinks. When I first saw Lucas, I had so hoped he would accept me. But Dar is right. Until I know them better, they cannot know who and what I am.

  Over dinner, Miranda brings her husband up to speed on why I am here. He turns his green eyes to me, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and then he swerves his gaze to Lucas.

  “Where were you when you found Emmeline?”

  Lucas squirms, so I offer an answer instead. “I actually found him, sir. In a field.”

  Alfred’s face clouds over. “Lucas, what were you doing in that field?” he says quietly.

  Lucas stares at his soup bowl. “Practicing,” he mumbles.

  “Lucas!” Miranda says, setting her napkin down. Uneasiness hovers over the table like a cloud, but I am not sure why. I fear I should not have spoken at all.

  “She only saw a little bit. But Emmeline is trustworthy, I promise. She won’t tell anybody, will you?”

  His talent. That’s what they’re upset about. I know some people are secretive about their gifts, but it hadn’t occurred to me it might be to such an extent for someone like Lucas. I am only hiding mine since it has made others afraid of me, but I suppose it is not surprising that Lucas’s parents would rather others not know of his talent as well.

  “I won’t tell a soul that you’ve been blessed by the Cerelia Comet, I swear,” I say. My own secret dances on my lips, but I remember Dar’s warning: everyone seems to fear my talent. I don’t want to scare them away already.

  Whatever you do, you must not tell them about me. We don’t want to give them any reason to mistrust you.

  Dar makes a good point. We will wait until we know more about them. Until we both believe they’re trustworthy enough to confide in them.

  Miranda and Alfred sigh. “I suppose there’s no help for it now,” Alfred says, glancing at me. “I hope you are as true to your word as Lucas says.”

  “Your secrets are not mine to share.”

  With that, Alfred takes another helping, and Lucas smiles shyly at me over his bowl. The conversation turns to livelier subjects, and soon laughter fills the room.

  This family with their clear and easy affection have welcomed me into their home. I gulp down an unexpected sob. This is more kindness than I’ve seen in a very long time. I didn’t realize how much I was missing until now.

  But worry eats away at me. If they knew what I could do, would they fear me too, or would they be just as kind because of Lucas’s talent? I want to share my magic with Lucas, but until I know this family better, I’ll have to keep my own secrets close.

  Chapter Nine

  I wake the next morning in a borrowed bed and a borrowed nightgown. Dar and I were in such a hurry to leave that it never even occurred to me to pack a change of clothes. Lucas’s mother is a small woman but still much taller than me, so the nightgown is large, as is the plain, sturdy green dress she’s laid out on the chair. It is kind of her to lend them to me.

  I put on the dress and tie the simple sash around my waist in such a way that it helps to conceal the fact that it hangs off my frame.

  You’re finally awake, Dar says, slithering across the floor. You’ve slept like the dead this morning.

  “Sorry, I was exhausted. I hope we finally lost those soldiers.” I yawn. I do feel more tired than usual today.

  I’m dying to get out of this house. The woods call to me so keenly.

  “We might need to stay indoors longer than I’d like, just to be safe.” I glance at the door of the guest room. “We’ll have to see what Lucas and his family do with their days. I’ll need to earn my keep if we want to remain here for a while.”

  Nerves tremble in my limbs. I’m intrigued by this strange little family living out in the woods…and by Lucas’s light magic. I hope we can stay, just until Dar and I complete that ritual.

  After pulling on my boots, I go in search of signs of life. A wonderful, rich smell accompanied by laughter emanates from the kitchen. When I stand in the doorway, I see the source of the aroma that is making my mouth water: croissants, perfectly golden brown, thanks to Lucas’s light singing.

  He stands on his chair, music pouring from his mouth and sweeping the rays of morning light that stream through the windows into a focused beam. He bends the beam, making it circle right over the plate of croissants.

  “Emmeline, have a seat, please. Lucas is almost done,” Miranda says.

  Lucas winks at me, and finishes his song, then sits back down on his chair, snatching a piping hot croissant in the process.

  It isn’t polite to gape like that, Emmeline, Dar murmurs in my ear. I snap my mouth shut. And maybe don’t sit up so straight in your chair.

  I try to hunch over a bit, but it feels awkward. My whole life, it has been driven into me to sit up straight, keep my hands folded neatly in my lap, and not talk about my shadow.

 
Lucas’s father chuckles and takes a roll for himself. “It’s all right. Lucas is an excellent baker, though his methods are a bit unusual.”

  “I’ve been practicing a lot,” Lucas says.

  “Yes,” Miranda says. “He makes croissants at least once a week, sometimes twice if we’re lucky.”

  “It’s all about the morning light.” Lucas chews thoughtfully. “Croissants need the right type of light, something gentle, but still hot enough to toast. I can never bake at noon. Everything will burn if I do.”

  “I had no idea light was so finicky,” I say. My own shadows deepen and ebb throughout the day, so I suppose it makes sense that beams of light would have nuances too. I breathe in the wonderful smell, and my hands can’t help themselves—they grab a croissant too. It is flaky, golden perfection. “This is amazing.”

  Lucas grins and ducks his head. “I’ve been thinking I might want to become a baker when I’m older. I bet I’d be the fastest cook in the region.”

  Alfred laughs and puts a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Get through your homeschooling first; then we’ll talk about careers.”

  I glance at Miranda. “Thank you for letting me stay here with you for a short while. What can I do to help out?”

  Worry wriggles in my veins, but I do my best to ignore it. I never did a single chore at home, but I can’t risk them discovering who I really am. Not yet. And if that means doing some chores, I’ll make that sacrifice. I only hope I don’t bungle them too horribly and give myself away.

  “Can Emmeline help me bring water up from the river today?” Lucas asks.

  Miranda considers. “Yes, I suppose that will do for this morning. Do you know anything about plants?”

  I shake my head, not wanting to speak with my mouth full of food. Mother always told me that was a rude thing to do, and I do not wish to offend Miranda. Though perhaps it won’t matter here? I no longer know where the line is, and that is very confusing.

  She shrugs. “That’s all right. We’ll teach you. We grow most of what we eat, but we buy grain and meat when we visit the local village each week to sell our surplus. You can come with us tomorrow for that. And perhaps we can order a new dress to wear that will be a little more comfortable for you.”

  My cheeks flame. I really should have thought to bring clothes. I fear I am even more unprepared for this task than I realized.

  “I’d love to learn about gardening,” I say. If we remain on the run for long, knowing how to grow things would certainly come in handy.

  Once the dishes are cleared away, Lucas leads me outside.

  I close my eyes and let the sun settle on my skin, considering it in a way I haven’t before. Lucas is right; the morning sun is a little gentler than noon or later in the day. I’ve always been so focused on my shadows that I never really noticed it before.

  As a grin creeps over my face, Lucas laughs a few feet away. “What are you doing, Emmeline?”

  My eyes open and I laugh too. “I was testing the light. You’re right; it is gentler.”

  “You shouldn’t be surprised. I know lots about light.”

  Dar harrumphs at my feet. Shadows are still better. I smile but don’t dare to answer her here.

  He leads me to a shed behind the cottage, and I follow him. The shed contains many strange instruments, including pairs of buckets suspended by ropes tied to poles. Lucas picks one and rests the pole over his shoulders, letting the buckets hang down at his sides. I frown at him.

  “What’s that?”

  He regards me curiously. “Haven’t you ever seen water buckets before?”

  “Not like that. We had a well on my estate.” I bite my tongue realizing I should not have called the estate mine, but thankfully Lucas doesn’t seem to notice.

  “Well, it’s pretty easy. Just lift them by the pole and put the pole on your shoulders. Be careful the buckets don’t get caught on any wayward branches once they’re full. Then we’d have to go all the way back to the river.”

  His eyes sparkle, and I shift my gaze away quickly. His face is full of trust and simple joys, as if he exudes sunshine from his pores. I pick up one of the pole-and-bucket contraptions. It is easier to maneuver than I expected.

  “The river is this way. Mum always tells me to be extra careful when we go this far from the cottage. Be as quiet as you can be, and don’t talk to strangers.” He glances back at me, his dark lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. “But I guess I broke that rule with you. So, I suppose not all strangers are bad.”

  I laugh. “Maybe just strange adults.”

  “Definitely.”

  The woods here are lovely, and while Lucas and I trek down the slim pathway to the river, Dar ducks and dives and plays with the forest shadows behind us. I can hear her joyful squeals, and a notch of tension unwinds inside my stomach. We’re doing what is necessary, but there’s no harm in having a little fun too.

  The light around Lucas seems to constantly bend and shift, moving around his arms, lighting his path as needed. I wonder if he does this on purpose or if it is an unconscious reaction the light has to his magic.

  I hold my tongue. I do not know these people yet. But I hope I get to.

  The sound of rushing water reaches us first; then when the trees break, I see the gurgling stream between them. The light skips over it like twinkling stars.

  Lucas turns to me when we reach the edge with his mouth open to speak, then tilts his head, puzzled.

  “Emmeline,” he says quietly. “Where did your shadow go?”

  A flash of heat travels from my head to my toes. Most people don’t notice when Dar frolics, but of course Lucas would. He is too attuned to the light not to notice a change in its opposite.

  Dar! I scream in my head, not sure if she can hear me. I forgot that she was playing behind us, only tethered to me by a thin thread.

  “What do you mean?” I say, twirling my skirt, and praying Dar gets the message.

  Sorry, she murmurs as she slides up behind me, doing her best to appear to have been hidden by my skirts.

  Lucas stares, then scratches his head. “I—I must be seeing things,” he says. “Anyway, here’s how you collect the water.”

  I knew we had a well on our estate, but until now I never stopped to consider that our servants had to retrieve countless buckets of water every day. Lucas demonstrates how to fill each bucket and not spill a drop. I mimic his motions, but I am not as coordinated.

  Lucas watches me, and when I spill the second bucket of water on my feet, drenching my skirts in the process, he bursts out laughing. I’m almost surprised; he finds so much merriment in everything, even the most menial tasks. He is very different from the handful of other children I met at our estate, and certainly nothing at all like Kendra. Even Dar only finds real amusement in our shadow games.

  “You have to move in smoother motions. Try it again, but go slower. Don’t overthink it.”

  I sigh but lean over once again to fill one of the buckets. Lucas puts a steadying hand on my elbow as I twist to fill the second bucket too. This time I manage to fill them both, only sloshing a small amount over my toes. Working together, it seems, is the answer.

  “Well done! Now the hard part—not spilling it all on the trek home.”

  Lucas grins, and I groan. “I fear this may not go well.”

  “Just follow my feet; step where I step, and it will be fine.”

  The wind toys with my hair, tossing it in my face while I struggle to keep the buckets level. But Lucas is right; he does know the best route. Following his footsteps helps and gives me something to focus on.

  Dar sidles up to me and curls around one of the buckets. Dark lines wrinkle through her form, and I think that means she’s frowning.

  These tasks are boring. When can we play again?

  I pause, letting Lucas get a little farther ahead of me befo
re daring to respond. “You’ll have to play without me while we’re here. We can’t tell them about you yet. Not until we’re both sure we can trust them,” I whisper.

  Dar sighs and slides off the bucket. She bores so easily. I wish she could find joy in simple things like this, the way Lucas seems to.

  “Are you all right?” Lucas calls back at me.

  “Yes, sorry. Pebble in my shoe.”

  Lucas waits for me halfway up the hill, the sun dancing through his hair, while I retrace his steps. I’m sure I missed some of them. I’ll have to be more careful.

  Being out in the world is harder than I thought.

  I have not yet told Lucas I’m a shadow weaver, but if I’m going to stay with his family and not lose my mind, I must eventually. My mother’s words ring in my ears: don’t be an embarrassment. My talent set them up for ridicule and censure. And it cost me the lone human friend I thought I had in Kendra.

  The only one who doesn’t fear my magic is Dar.

  By the time we get to the top of the hill, I’m exhausted and my feet ache. But Lucas seems to have boundless energy as though he lives on sunlight alone.

  He leads me to the water basin they keep near the shed, and we empty our buckets. I happily hand mine over to him, and he puts them away while I collapse in the shade and stretch out my arms on the grass. My fingers twitch, wanting nothing more than to knead the shadows at the edge of the woods into something fun. A bird, or maybe this time a cat.

  Before I realize what I’ve done, the shadows are inching toward me.

  “Emmeline, my mum wants us to weed the garden now,” Lucas calls. I snap back to reality, shoving the shadows away to where they belong. I sit up quickly, heart thundering in my ears as I examine his face. He shows no sign that he saw me doing anything strange. Dar grumbles in my ears.

  I get to my feet, wiping leaves from my dress, and follow Lucas to the other side of the cottage where the garden sits. Row upon row of brown earth and reaching green fronds line the space. Some areas are boxed out by pieces of wood, and others—like the tomato plants—are raised up on trellises, already heavy with fruit.