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Shadow Weaver Series, Book 1

Page 11

by MarcyKate Connolly


  “What’s wrong, Mum?” he asks, frowning.

  She gives him a halfhearted smile and brushes a lock of his hair out of his eyes. “I’m fine, dear. Just woke up with a headache this morning. Been getting worse all day. But I’m sure it will pass after a good night’s sleep.”

  “We can help you pick the vegetables, can’t we, Emmeline?” Lucas says as I join them.

  “Of course,” I say. Up close, Miranda’s face looks more drawn than usual with a new crease marring her brow.

  I am almost surprised Dar has not made any snide remarks about Miranda. She has done so at every chance she gets lately.

  With a start, I realize Dar is not here. She is not at my feet, and if I’m being honest, I’ve been so distracted by Lucas, I’m not sure how long she’s been gone. All that remains is that string, thin as a whisper, tying us together. I bend down, pretending to tie my boot and give the line a sharp tug. If she was bored, she probably wandered off to play in the woods.

  I frown when I see her familiar shape slide under the door of the cottage. What was Dar doing inside the house? She does not offer an explanation, but she slinks over to me puffed out as though she’s very pleased with herself. I find it oddly worrying.

  We’ll have to chat about this later tonight. It isn’t safe for Dar to be going off on her own right now. And I can’t help wondering what she was up to.

  I kneel down next to Lucas to help him and Miranda fill the basket with carrots, green beans, and potatoes. I recall Dar’s lack of a reaction to the dressmaker’s shop so similar to the one she died in, and sneak another glance at my shadow. My circling thoughts nip at me, but I squash them down.

  I must remain focused on our mission.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I have only been here for five days, but already I have grown accustomed to our daily ritual. During the day, Lucas and I do chores and then work with our crafts. He is a quick study and gets better at making his light tangible and tacky every day. At night, the family retreats to their beds, and I rest while Dar keeps watch. Every once in a while she’s urged me to hide near the study to spy on Alfred and Miranda, but I’ve refused. While a piece of me is dying to know who Winthrop is and what plans he’s a part of, the thought of eavesdropping again on these people who’ve shown me nothing but kindness and generosity makes my stomach turn. Eavesdropping has long been my way to learn about people who refused to talk to me, but I do not feel like I need it as much here.

  Almost every night, when the shadows are deep enough and everyone else slumbers, Dar wakes me and we set about finding the next ingredient for the ritual. But tonight, I open my eyes and see the moon is high in the sky outside my window.

  And Dar is nowhere in sight for the second time today. Only a thin shadowy line runs from the tip of my toe and under my door.

  I jolt upright in my bed. “Dar!” I hiss.

  A few tense moments later I see her silky form slide underneath my bedroom door and settle into her usual place. I frown.

  “Where were you?”

  I went to play with the shadows in the kitchen while I waited for you.

  “But what about Miranda and Alfred? They didn’t notice you before they retired, did they?”

  Dar weaves over the floor as I stand up. No, she says. They saw nothing at all.

  Something about the way she says it makes me nervous. The last time she wandered off at night was the incident with Lord Tate, and something in her tone reminds me of that too.

  But Miranda and Alfred and Lucas are our friends; Dar has no real cause to think I need protecting from them despite her suspicions. Even so, something tenses in my stomach and refuses to let go no matter how much I try to reason it away.

  Tonight we’re in search of three white candles. Now that the new dress Miranda arranged for me has arrived, I’m careful to wear one of her old shifts on this late night excursion just in case I have to go somewhere muddy again. I creep from my guest room to search the kitchen cabinets, hopeful that this will be a relatively easy task. I’d much rather borrow them from Lucas’s family than steal from someone else. When I triumphantly pull a box of candles from a drawer, Dar withers.

  Those are yellow. They must be white.

  My bubble of hope deflates. I hunt through every nook and cranny I can find, but there are no white candles in the entire house.

  I sigh, and slip from the cottage to dodge through the shadows in the woods.

  Let’s try the village, Dar suggests.

  “But I don’t have any money to buy them,” I say. Yet another thing I should have brought with me in my flight and completely forgot.

  That won’t matter.

  “What do you mean?” I frown.

  You shall see.

  She doesn’t explain herself further. I do not like it when my shadow keeps secrets from me. This makes two in one night. I shiver.

  But there is little else I can do but follow her lead. My feet know the path to the village better than they should. Even the trees have gotten used to us passing by, and they bend the shadows of their branches toward us in what feels like casual familiarity. Shadows join us, winding through my legs, but I don’t feel elation this time. Tonight, I just want this task to be done. This will be the third night we have snuck out of the house. Many nights staying up late have left me exhausted. It is starting to show in the circles under my eyes and the drag in my steps.

  Lucas and his family will notice soon if they haven’t already. And that will raise questions I cannot answer. Not yet.

  The orchard surrounding the village comes into view, the apple trees throwing their gnarled shadows into the fray that escorts us. The village doesn’t have much to guard it. There is no fence, no wall like there is around my parents’ estate. Here a few paths from different directions lead past a smattering of buildings, which grow tighter the farther into the village we go. I wrap my shadows around me, walking down the center of the main thoroughfare and turning when Dar directs.

  By the time she stops me I am so disoriented, I’m not even sure if I’m in the same village any longer. Before me stands a simple building of white sandstone, but on closer examination is revealed to be something more. The lower level windows are filled with multicolored glass arranged into the shape of a star shooting across a night sky. This must be a temple to the Cerelia Comet. I have heard of them in my books, but never seen one before. Legend tells that the first time the comet flew over our lands, it sprinkled the ground with the first seeds of life, bringing blessings anew every twenty-five years. Many people revere the comet to this day and build beautiful temples like this one.

  This place should have the white candles we need.

  But something about the building stops me. It seems peaceful and simply perfect. I can’t quite bring myself to disturb its slumber. After all, the comet did bless me with my talent.

  “Isn’t there some other place? Some other way?”

  Dar sighs. No, there is not. We are staying in the middle of the woods. We have to use what we can find. And this is close.

  I snort. “I don’t call a mile walk in the middle of the night close.” Dar’s form folds into a smile.

  I take a hesitant step on the cobbled path leading to the door. “Should I wake someone up to ask for the candles?”

  Dar glows a filmy red. So many questions. These days you seem to trust Lucas more than me.

  The hint of venom in her voice is jolting. She must be feeling neglected lately. I was afraid of that. I brush my fingertips over her edges. “Don’t worry, you’re a part of me. I’ll always trust you. I just don’t understand what I need to do here.”

  Duck inside and take the candles on the altar.

  “Take them?” I balk. Stealing from a temple to the Cerelia Comet feels like a betrayal of sorts.

  Dar sighs again. They aren’t just going to give them to you, and we h
ave no money, do we? What did you expect?

  “I just—I don’t like the idea of stealing.”

  Don’t think of it as stealing. It’s for a good purpose, isn’t it? Something that will help you and me and that man in a coma at your parents’ estate. Or have you forgotten him already?

  A vise forms around my chest. I know—I know—that Dar is correct.

  Unless of course you don’t want to set things right…

  My spine straightens, and I shove down the sick feeling in my gut. It has gotten steadily worse since I woke up to find Dar missing earlier. I have to do this, no matter how much my conscience screams at me.

  With my shadows surrounding me, I open the gate in front of the temple and walk down the little stone pathway. The front door is unlocked and opens easily. I duck into the nearest corner and hold my breath. My heart hammers in my ears.

  But no one comes running, no one comes out with accusing fingers that can pierce through to my heart. No one appears at all.

  The inside of the temple is lovely. Whitewashed walls and stained-glass windows reflect the moonlight on the stone floor, well-worn from years of use. At the front of the temple lies an altar lined with white candles, some lit, some not, some beginning to sputter out, that make the whole room seem to glow. For a second, I imagine what Lucas would do with that light if he were here. He’d probably make the candlelight dance and swirl around the temple, maybe combining with the stained glass windows for some lovely effect. Dar, on the other hand, would surely be happier if we snuffed them all out.

  An ache builds in my chest. What would Lucas think if he could see me now?

  I will my feet to inch closer to the altar. When I reach it, my hands hover over the array. There are so many candles.

  If you check under the altar, there may be extras. Take three of those; no one will notice.

  A crate of newly-fashioned white candles rests under the drapings of the altar. I tuck three into my skirt pockets, swallowing my bitter guilt in the process.

  This place is beautiful, especially here at night in the darkness, but I want nothing more than to leave it as soon as possible.

  Perfect, Dar purrs. I can feel the warmth of her smile at my back as I flee the temple, less careful than when I came inside. Soon I run through the village, shadows secured around me, trying to get far away from the things I’ve done in the name of friendship.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next evening, when dusk has fallen and Lucas and I are playing with the shadows in the yard, hoofbeats resound through the woods. Fear bites into me, and I grab Lucas’s hand, yanking him down behind the vegetable garden and wrapping my shadows around us. We huddle together, wide-eyed and waiting. The memory of the soldiers at the front door and in the village is all too fresh.

  It’s all right, you’re safe here in the darkness with me, Dar says in my ear.

  “Who do you think it is?” My heart gallops in my chest, like it is racing the riders to the cottage door.

  Lucas peers into the dark woods, but he can’t see much. “I’m not sure. But Mum did mention that some friends of ours might visit soon. Maybe it’s them?”

  I relax my grip on his arm—slightly. “Bad day for it though,” I say. Miranda has been complaining of a headache again. Something about nightmares and not sleeping well. I glance at Dar, hoping for the hundredth time today that it had nothing to do with her sneaking off last night.

  Lucas reaches out a hand through my shadowcraft just to see it shrouded in darkness. He pulls it back, wonder written on his face.

  “They really won’t be able to see us?”

  I shake my head. “Not even a little.”

  “I wish I could conceal myself with my light singing. All I do is blind people on occasion.”

  I stifle a laugh, but my smile still squeaks out. “Your light is wonderful. And you’re getting better with it every day.” The hoofbeats grow louder, but Lucas has softened the edges of my fear. A few moments later, four riders—two adults, and two children on ponies behind them—come to a halt in Lucas’s yard. His face lights up.

  “It is our friends after all! Come on, Emmeline, you must meet them.” He leaps to his feet and runs toward the newcomers, while I cautiously dissipate my shadows.

  Careful, Dar warns. You don’t know if you can trust them. Don’t let them see what you can do. The last thing we need is more people knowing about your talent.

  “If they’re friends of Lucas, they must be trustworthy,” I whisper.

  Dar growls. Lucas doesn’t know everything. He could be wrong. Together, you and I have excellent judgment. We should decide for ourselves.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. See? I’m letting the shadows go slowly. They’ll never know.” She has been having outbursts like this more often lately. Hopefully, once the ritual is complete, she will be back to normal again.

  Dar quiets as I approach Lucas and his friends. The father and mother both have dark hair and deeply tanned skin with smiles that brighten the night as much as Lucas and his light. They are laughing at something Lucas has told them.

  “Emmeline, this the Rodan family. Mr. and Mrs. Rodan, and Cary”—Lucas points to the girl—“and Doyle,” he finishes, pointing to the boy who seems to be about our age. The girl is older and taller than her brother, and looks like a smaller version of her mother. Her eyes are the same fierce blue, striking against the rest of her dusky features. Her brother has dark eyes and a snub nose, and the wind seems to be constantly blowing through his hair, making it stand on end.

  “It is nice to meet you,” I say. My hands itch to make something, to give them a little shadow gift, but I’m too wary for that.

  “There you are!” Miranda calls from the doorway. “Come in, come in, there’s water and shelter for your horses behind the cottage.” She smiles warmly, but dark circles frame her eyes.

  Mr. Rodan leads the horses away, while the others follow us inside. Fireflies dance in my stomach. I am not at home here, but I’ve just begun to feel at ease around Lucas and his parents. What if these newcomers don’t like me? Will I be sent away? My throat suddenly feels thick.

  I don’t want to leave here. I want to stay and play in the woods with Lucas and learn about his light singing.

  Miranda guides us to the sitting room, and we settle onto the couches and chairs. A sudden need to be close to Lucas’s light twinges in my chest, and I sit beside him.

  Dar sniffs in my ear. I don’t know about these people. They’re too friendly. Only liars are that happy.

  I must talk to Dar about her suspicions of everyone, but I tuck that thought away for later. I know she only wants to protect me, but sometimes she goes too far.

  The way these people talk and laugh easily with each other is entrancing. From their conversation, I gather it has been months since they have been together, but the connections between them are so clear and strong that I can almost see them. There is no hint of jealousy or petulance, not like there always seems to be lately with Dar.

  My limbs begin to tingle. I want this—friendship and laughter and no fear of using magic.

  I’m lost in my thoughts, and Dar’s voice startles me. When I am whole again, we’ll be able to talk and laugh and play like that too. Everything will be so much better then. It will be just you and me. We won’t need anyone else.

  My shadow pools at my side, playing along and acting like a normal shadow today, but her words trouble me. I can’t help thinking that if Lucas knew about Dar, he wouldn’t insist on leaving her behind like she wants me to leave him; he’d welcome and include her. Still, a happy Dar is better than a jealous Dar. I smile and reach down for a moment, grazing the edges of her form, so she knows I heard her and look forward to it too.

  “Emmeline,” Lucas says, diverting my attention. “You must see what Doyle can do.” He grins, but the Rodans’ smiles falter.
r />   Lucas’s mother sighs. “It’s all right. Emmeline has a talent too.”

  My heart leaps into my throat. “I—I—”

  See? Dar wails in my ears. I told you they could not be trusted with your secret!

  Lucas puts a warm hand on my arm. I stare at it. “Don’t worry, we can trust them. I promise. Watch.”

  Doyle slides off his chair with a sly grin on his face. He puts two fingers between his teeth and makes a sharp, bright noise. Seconds later, the curtains by the windows billow into the room, and the front door clangs open, making me jump. Lucas laughs, and my eyes widen at the sight before me.

  The boy throws his arms up as the wind whirls around him in a churning column. Papers fly and leaves from outside are caught up by it. The wind forms a spinning ball in front of him, then he hurls it toward the cottage door. It flies back outside, the door slamming shut behind it.

  I clap and laugh despite my initial terror. “What a wonderful talent!” I say.

  That explains why his hair is a little mussed, like the wind has just blown through it.

  Doyle does a little bow, and climbs back on his chair. I’m dying to know what else he can do with his wind whistling, but his sister, Cary, yawns as though she has seen this trick a hundred times. She probably has. Suddenly her eyes light up.

  “Lucas, do you have any new tricks? Or your friend maybe?”

  Lucas, seeing my hesitation, stands up. “Of course.” Without further ado, he begins to sing, and the light from the candles in the cottage snap off their wicks and float through the air toward him. They spin in a circle over his head, moving faster and faster until he’s surrounded by a golden halo. Cary grins and claps as he finishes his song. On the last note, he sends the light back to their candles, where they stand as though nothing happened at all.

  Show off, Dar mutters. Your shadows are far better crafted.

  Expectant silence fills the room, with all eyes fixed on me. I want to wrap my shadows around me and hide, but I stamp down that instinct.

 

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