The Shadow Soul (A Dance of Dragons)

by Kaitlyn Davis

  With her cheek pressed against the wood, Jinji felt the rumble of their strength—felt how little it did against the door. But she also felt something else.

  Heat.

  Weak at first, but growing stronger, until her face began to burn.

  Brows furrowed, she leaned back, watching the splintered surface as if it would reveal a hidden secret.

  Looking.

  Waiting.

  Then bang, the doors catapulted inward and a blast of hot air singed her face, making Jinji fall backward in surprise. Her eyes stung, immediately watered. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. Swords rang anew in her ear, shouts.

  "Fall back."

  "To the king."

  "Retreat."

  "Find water."

  Clashing, conflicting opinions shouting over one another.

  Her vision returned, but still, she saw nothing but the angry orange wall before her.

  Rhen was lost.

  Jinji sat down, unable to move a muscle to help, not caring if the wave of fire curled out and dragged her in.

  All was lost anyway. The shadow must have won.

  Rhen was dead.

  Staring into those flames, she knew it for a fact. Her heart froze over, a frost she knew would never thaw.

  If he were alive, he would have stopped the fire. He would have smoldered it, pulled it inside of him the way she had seen on the ship.

  He would have…

  Jinji looked around, unsure how anyone else could be moving when the world seemed to be crashing down. Lords were retreating, some guards were following, others ran to the flames with buckets of water, trying to control something that was not meant to be contained.

  Coughs spewed from her lips, forced her stomach to bend, her arms to catch her as she fell forward. Lit from the flames, shadows danced into her vision, expanding along the floor, taunting her.

  Jinji closed her eyes, but still the fire flickered behind her lids, undulating, making black shadows appear and disappear from her mind.

  Someone knocked into her, dousing her with a splash of cool water as he stumbled by, enough to make Jinji jump up in shock despite the protests of her muscles.

  Eyes opening, she stopped.

  Stopped moving.

  Stopped breathing.

  Stopped blinking.

  Everything about her just paused.

  The fire was shrinking.

  Jinji stood. Her cramping muscles screamed, ripping as she stepped closer.

  The flames kept lowering, sucked in by an invisible force, moving backward in a way that looked unnatural, forced. The smaller they appeared, the more her heart lifted.

  No one else could do this—nothing else could.

  Jinji stared, eyes widening as if it would help her see more.

  A faint outlined popped into view, white behind the flames—a man.

  Jinji grinned and strode forward as the fire disappeared entirely, replaced by Rhen—shirtless, covered in blood and sweat—alive. The entire room inhaled together, waiting for him to open his eyes. When he did, the green burned, sparking, as though the flames had fused with his irises.

  Rhen stood, but a movement over his shoulder caught Jinji's attention. Huddled behind Rhen, were other people, shaking with disbelief. Breaking away, a woman stood—his mother. Her dress was singed with holes, her hair frazzled. Saved by her son.

  Jinji smiled, waiting for the woman to turn and hug Rhen, to give him the thanks he had deserved for so long. It was enough for Jinji to know he was alive, to know he was safely within her eyesight, out of the shadow's reach—so she stopped walking forward, crossed her arms, and waited for him to share a much needed moment with his family. Maybe now they would honor him with the love and respect he deserved. Maybe now…

  A glint blinded Jinji's eyes. A bright light, like metal catching the sun.

  Jinji looked up. Windows lined the upper rim of the room, swords were scattered all around the floor. It was to be expected.

  But then it happened again, hurting her irises, making her blink.

  This metal was moving, was—

  "No!"

  Jinji shouted and ran forward, too slow once more. The queen looked up—her stare blank, her eyes white and emotionless.

  The shadow.

  Rhen turned. His back hunched. His hands flew to his stomach. Even with his back to her, Jinji saw the knife dig into his gut; she felt it sink into his stomach as though it were her own skin.

  Blood dripped to the floor.

  The queen pulled back. Rhen collapsed. She raised the knife to her own throat. And Jinji sprang forward, biting her lip to keep from crying out as the realization of Rhen's imminent death sunk into her bones.

  The queen looked up. Looked into Jinji's eyes.

  Panic.

  The shadow was afraid. The queen stepped back, farther away from Jinji. The knife pulled quickly, closing in on her throat.

  But before the job could be finished, Jinji was there. She slid around Rhen, careful not to harm his still body but also not stopping, not wasting time.

  In one heartbeat, everything that had happened in the past few months fluttered into view, memories flashing faster than her mind could process. Her father was there. Her mother. Leoa. Maniuk. Janu. And now Rhen.

  Eyes narrowing, lips pursing, anger brimming to the surface, Jinji dove for the queen's arm and wrapped her fingers firmly around her thin wrist.

  As soon as they touched, Jinji's eyes rolled into the back of her head.

  Her vision went black, disappeared.

  All self-awareness vanished.

  She didn't see the queen stumble back, blinking rapidly, eyes clouded over with confusion but color returned to normal. She didn't hear the windows above their heads shatter, fall into the dining hall, and crash into a thousand pieces. Jinji didn't feel the lightning bolts pierce her skin, bend her back almost in half, and lift her off the ground.

  She was beyond that. Beyond the world. Beyond feeling.

  Trapped within the confines of her own mind, back in the shadow dream, Jinji was drowning. Claws gripped her skin, her teeth tasted blood, large wings pushed against the water and stretched for the surface. Jaws gripped her neck, tightening her airway, making her lose all breath. Her talons stretched out, fighting, tearing thick skin with their razor-sharp edges.

  This was the moment in the nightmare where she always awoke, the endless struggle, this battle.

  But this time, her eyes didn’t open.

  No awareness came.

  She was no longer Jinji. No longer an Arpapajo. No longer even a human. Jinji had left her body behind, to lay deathly still on the palace floor. Now she was pure spirit.

  This time, it was not just a dream. There was no waking up. And if she did not escape, she would die here—in this otherworldly realm her mind had been catapulted into. An ether between the spirit and shadow realms.

  All she needed to do was break the surface of this dream water—to return to the spirit realm, and leave this endless, death-enshrouded abyss. One gulp of fresh air and she would live.

  But she was not strong enough. The darkness overtook her, removed her strength. Jinji was being pulled under, below the water, deeper and deeper, until the world changed, warped, and twisted.

  She had entered the shadow realm, a different plane of reality.

  No light pierced her eyes. No life.

  Limbs weakening, she forced tired muscles to keep fighting, refusing to let herself drift away in this eternal midnight where even stars refused to shine. Still, they sank farther. The shadow pulled her slowly, steadily down.

  Her last reserve of energy gave out.

  What more could she do?

  Nothing.

  But she would not die without seeing her home one more time. She could not die in this lifeless place, this place that her soul rejected, this place where the elemental spirits seemed untouchable.

  So Jinji released her hold, let her claws ease apart, her long jaw release. She cl
osed her eyes and envisioned her home—the spirit realm that she had brought to life.

  Wind caressing her gliding wings. Great, white mountains disappearing into the startling blue sea. Green land sprouting, stretching as far as her eyes could see. Glittering gold sunlight hitting red-walled cliffs, making the earth spark and flame.

  As she imagined, she wove the elemental spirits. Life suddenly sprang into being in a place where it didn’t belong, a place of death and destruction that had never before seen the beauties of her world.

  The shadow released her, fell away, blinded by the images of a realm it couldn't imagine. It jerked, covering its scaled face with ebony wings, pushing away from the light.

  Moving on their own, Jinji's wings flapped against the water, pushing her higher and higher, climbing closer to the surface. Unable to wait any longer, Jinji's eyes drifted open. The water was no longer black, but blue, shimmering with sunlight.

  It lightened. And lightened. Her eyes were drenched in ivory.

  And then she was free, breaking through the surface to breathe in fresh air, floating through the sky, wings light without the heavy weight of water.

  It felt good to stretch her muscles. To dip and glide and soar. To weave through trees, rise over snow-capped peaks, plummet into crashing rapids.

  The longer she flew across the spirit realm, her otherworldly home, the more she forgot.

  Forgot the body left cold on the floor in the human world.

  Forgot her human self.

  Forgot Jinji.

  But remembered other memories, of lives gone by, of pasts being reawakened.

  The spirit dragon had returned.

  Reborn for the first time in millennia.

  20

  RHEN

  ~ RAYFORT ~

  Rhen fell to the ground, hand pressed tightly against his stomach, trying to hold in the blood forcing its way out.

  He looked up at his mother, desperate, pleading for mercy.

  She stepped back, lifted the knife to her own throat. And suddenly, something clicked into place.

  This was the shadow.

  Jin had tried to tell him, to warn him, but Rhen had never really believed the boy until that instant—looking into his mother's empty, soulless eyes. Something had taken control of her body. Something had ripped away her will.

  That same thing wanted Rhen dead.

  And it might have succeeded, he thought, pushing harder against his weak muscles.

  His mother looked up sharply, eyes widening at something over Rhen's shoulder. The knife dug into her throat, pushing deeper, trying to break through delicate but sturdy skin.

  "No," he tried to say. It came out softer than a whisper.

  In a flash, someone had jumped over his body, crying out. Rhen recognized the bronze armor of the royal guard, the red leather overcoat. Pride surged in his chest at the sight of the rearing stallion of Whylkin, still charging into battle, still strong.

  The man reached out, stretched for the queen's hand, for the knife.

  The instant they touched, time stopped.

  The guard's skin rippled, trembled. It grew in size, inflating, swelling larger and larger. The colors on his jacket seemed to melt, to mix together. They dripped down into his flesh, spinning and turning, separating into individual strands.

  Rhen watched with widening eyes. The man was a monster. An aura sprung to life around his person, dragging his image wider and wider, until the man's body was encased in a glowing shell, white with veins of color intermixing, weaving together, and pulling against each other. It brightened, whiter and whiter, growing, expanding, becoming more vaporous, until it burst.

  The man fell.

  The queen stumbled back, blinking. Her eyes, green and so like his, had returned to normal—mulled over with confusion but vibrant and full of life.

  Rhen looked at the guard. But he was no longer a guard.

  He was a boy, wearing dark leather boots and a fine white shirt that was splattered with dirt. Looking closer, Rhen spotted fingers, copper toned as though kissed by the sun, glowing despite being indoors. It was the only bit of exposed flesh Rhen could see, but it was enough. Even presented with his back, Rhen recognized his friend.

  "Jin," he said, hoarse, pained.

  Of course Jin had come to fight the shadow, to save Rhen yet again. It was no surprise, and yet his heart felt just a little bit lighter, a little more able to hold on.

  Reaching out, Rhen extended one hand, keeping the other firmly planted against his wound.

  "Jin," he repeated, softer. But the sound was deafened by the crack of splintering glass.

  Rhen arched his head up, peering at the windows so far overhead just in time to see them burst apart, shatter, rain down with sparkling fury. He tried to look away, to shield his eyes, but they were glued to the spot. Blinding flashes followed, crackling through the empty windows, half a dozen bolts of light, maybe more.

  Faster than his mind could process, they dropped to the floor, meeting at the same exact spot—Jin's lifeless body. Immediately, the boy was lifted off the ground, catapulted feet into the air as his body bent almost in half from the electric shock coursing through his veins.

  Rhen's bones chilled.

  It wasn't the lightning. It wasn't the gruesome curve of Jin's body. It was his silence.

  Racked by pure elemental power brought down by the sky, yet Jin was quiet. Unmoving. Not a single sound escaped his body. It was eerie, and it made Rhen's skin crawl with unease.

  The entire banquet hall stilled, enraptured by the scene. No one moved. No one stirred. The only sound was the sizzle of heat.

  And then it was gone.

  The lights relented, disappeared, and zipped back up into the sky. Jin fell to the ground. The entire room paused…then dove into action.

  Rhen inched his way forward, using his one free hand to pull himself closer to Jin, wincing at the pain it caused in his gut.

  When Jin's hand was in reach, Rhen grabbed it and latched on. Waiting, praying, he felt for a pulse.

  There.

  It was there. Ticking, thrumming rapidly, as though the boy were running instead of lying still.

  Rhen tugged.

  Jin flipped over, falling onto his back, head rolling to face Rhen…

  He sucked in sharply.

  It couldn’t be. It wasn't possible.

  But his eyes met full lips, wide and defined cheeks, long closed lashes framing elegantly angular eyes.

  A woman.

  It was undoubtedly the face of a woman.

  Yet as he looked closer, Jin was in there too, like one face altered just enough to become something, someone entirely new.

  Reaching out his hand, Rhen ran his fingertips over her soft skin, thumb brushing the curve of her jaw until it reached the bottom edge of her lip. A memory came unbidden, one of a golden-veiled face looming over him, worriedly caressing his brow. He recognized her now. It was never the princess. It had been Jin all along.

  Since the day they had met, Rhen had known Jin was hiding something. And now he knew. Jin could change his skin, could appear to be someone else. It was impossible—but some would say no more impossible than a prince who could walk through fire unscathed. Minutes ago, she had appeared as a royal guard, but somehow touching the shadow had caused her true self to be revealed.

  A pain sharpened in his chest.

  At first, Rhen thought it was his wound, but then he realized it was something entirely different. The white-hot sting of betrayal.

  He had shared everything with the boy. Had opened up, revealed secrets he had never told anyone before. Rhen thought he had finally found a confidant, a true companion, a real brother.

  But it had all been a lie.

  All of it.

  False.

  Jin was a woman, and that changed everything.

  Hands slipped into view, grasped Jin under the shoulders, pulling her roughly off the ground. She didn't stir. The only movement on her person was the constant fl
ick of her eyes behind their lids.

  "Take the girl to the dungeons with the others," Rhen heard Whyllem command, saw his brother step into view, and kneel down over him.

  The guards pulled Jin away, her boots scraped along the floor as they dragged her by the arms. Rhen remained silent. Not one protest stirred on his lips as he watched them take her away.

  "Rhen," Whyllem swallowed, voice catching as he lifted Rhen onto his lap.

  For his part, Rhen tried to answer, tried to respond, to ease the worry in his brother's face. But it came out as a gurgle. His tongue felt heavy and fat. His lips would not obey.

  Whyllem reached down, pressing his hands against Rhen's stomach. But Rhen found he couldn't feel them. Couldn’t feel anything, not even his own fingers. Panic made his heart race, but his muscles would not respond—they felt disconnected from his brain.

  "I will not let you die, brother," Whyllem said, voice thick. "You cannot leave us." He looked up at the sky, back down at Rhen. His eyes were moist, darkening over and growing wilder by the second. "I," his voice cracked, "Rhen, I cannot do it alone. Without father. Without Tarin. I need you."

  Whyllem's head bent down. He started shaking against Rhen's chest. Silent cries racked his body.

  More than anything, Rhen wished he could lift his arm, wrap it around his brother's shoulder, and assure him it would be okay. But the harder he tried, the weaker he seemed to feel.

  Vision spotting, his eyelids felt heavy. Drowsiness muddled his mind.

  "Get him to the apothecary, immediately." A voice commanded, but Rhen could no longer recognize it. He seemed to be floating, drifting through darkness, dreaming of endless night.

  He was gone.

  Hovering.

  Sinking closer and closer to a world not of the living.

  21

  JINJI

  ~ RAYFORT ~

  Jinji woke with a start, gasping for air, eyes opening wide as her entire body came alive in one single second.

  She blinked. But the scene remained the same. Eyes open, eyes closed—she was drenched in ebony, drowning in it.