by Morgan Rice
It was obviously made from shadows, some of them flickering and curling off it like smoke. It rose up far higher than her head, lizard-like and huge, jet black teeth in an empty cavern of a mouth. It roared out a wash of shadow, and Kate threw herself to the side. She saw the shadow flicker against the walls, seeming to destroy the spot it touched.
Kate drew the blade at her hip: the blade she’d helped to make part of, and that had been finished by Siobhan. She lunged forward, cutting at the hide of the lizard, feeling it surprisingly solid even as she sliced through it. Shadows spilled from the wound like blood, and again, where it struck on the floor, the floor shifted and changed.
It lashed out with claws like knives, and Kate ducked.
“Is this what you do to everyone who wants to ask questions?” Kate demanded. She didn’t know if the lizard thing could understand her, but she had no doubt that something in there could.
You want more than questions. You want us… you want power…we must see you…
“Well, if it’s a show you want, I’ll give you a show,” Kate snapped. She didn’t like the idea of having to fight for what amounted to the entertainment of a rock. Even so, with the lizard advancing on her, there was nothing to do except fight.
It swept its tail round in an arc that threatened to scythe her legs away, and Kate leapt over it. It brought claws down in sweeps that gouged rents into the shadowy rock beneath as Kate danced back from them. It breathed its strange shadow fire again, and Kate threw herself flat, before leaping up to dodge away from another blow of the thing’s claws.
In between, she cut at it. Between every dodge, every leap, every sway to avoid the hacking passage of its claws, she struck back. The blows were mere pinpricks compared to what the creature could have done to her, tiny even in comparison to what she could have done with her full strength, but Kate made sure that there were plenty of them. She cut, and she stabbed, and she sliced, every touch of her blade spilling more shadow from the thing.
“Oh, come on,” Kate said as the thing kept coming for her. “This should at least be slowing you down.”
Did you think that things were fair, Kate Danse? Haven’t you learned by now that you keep trying and trying and trying, and nothing turns out well? Give in, yield, and we will at least make your oblivion swift.
Kate roared in anger at that, charging at the lizard and continuing to cut. She sliced at the beast, its shadow substance falling to the ground and seeming to flow back into the pool of it. She cut and cut, and now she thought that the lizard was smaller than it had been. It no longer towered over her, and as she kept cutting, it continued to grow smaller, with less shadow substance to form it.
Finally, as she thrust through its heart, she felt the power of it dissipate, the shadow spilling down into nothing.
“Is that all you have?” Kate demanded, feeling her fury still there within her even if the power to back it up wasn’t.
So it is anger with you, the voice said, seeming to emanate from the walls. Well then, come and take your prize.
The pool of shadows seemed to grow still, a path opening in it that would allow access to the stone. Kate started towards it, guessing that there had to be some kind of trap to it, but not knowing what it might be.
She approached it, and another form started to rise up out of the pool. This one looked human, but their features seemed to shift and change as Kate watched, formed from shadow. One moment the figure was male, the next female, tall then short, young and then old.
“What is this?” Kate demanded. “Have you decided that you want to talk after all?”
The figure shifted again, and Kate knew the shape that it took on now. The same shape that had caused so much of her misery: the Master of Crows.
“You hate this one so much,” the shadows said. “You want to kill it, but maybe there are others you should want to kill more.”
More shadowy figures rose from the pool, and Kate recognized her brother and sister even before they were fully formed.
“How about it, Kate?” the pool’s version of the Master of Crows asked. “Will you kill those you love to get what you need?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Lucas tightened his hand around the spirit blade he held, feeling a little afraid as the creature approached. Not afraid for himself, because he was confident in the skills he had learned from his sword masters, but afraid that he might not be able to do what his sisters needed him to do.
Afraid for Elanora, too. She stood behind him, with a serene expression as if she was totally confident about Lucas’ ability to protect both of them and take on the beast. Even after the short time that he’d known her, Lucas found himself thinking about her, about how wonderful she was, about how much he wanted to protect her, and about the kiss that they’d shared.
Lucas leapt forward to engage the hulking thing, its branches swinging down towards him. One bark covered arm swept at him, faster than most people could have dodged, but Lucas wasn’t most people. He swayed aside and cut a shallow blow with the blade Elanora had produced for him, not wanting to cut too deep until he was sure that the blade would not become stuck.
With another blade, perhaps that precaution might have been needed, to stop the sap of the creature’s trunk from claiming it. This one didn’t seem to cut the flesh, though. Instead, it passed through the tree beast’s bark without leaving a scratch or a wound, but still left the beast bellowing in pain.
It swung one of its smaller branches at him, and Lucas found himself forced to parry. For this, at least, the sword felt solid enough, although right then, Lucas wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. The force of the blow was nearly enough to stagger him even with the blade in between them. He struck back, and once more, it passed through a section of the creature’s trunk, wounding it in ways Lucas couldn’t understand.
“The blade wounds the spirit!” Elanora called out. “Keep going, Lucas!”
Lucas nodded, and looked back to his opponent in time for it to spit a shower of wood chips, each one splintered and shard-like. Lucas managed to get his arms in front of his face in time to keep from being blinded, and threw himself to the side so that only a few hit him, but even so, he could feel the pain as the splinters punched into his flesh.
He struck back, cutting at a branch that came too close, then at a root that whipped up from the floor to try to wrap around his leg. The creature pulled back each time Lucas struck, but it kept coming, and worse, he was having to give ground to it.
Step by step, it forced him back through the boneyard it had created, so that Lucas had to pick his way around the skeletons of the fallen to avoid being tripped by them. He saw the creature’s knot-like eyes shift from him to Elanora and knew what was coming next even before it took a step towards her.
Once, Lucas had asked official Ko if it was really so difficult to kill someone as all his sword masters made out. Official Ko had laughed that infuriating, knowing laugh he had.
“It is easy, so long as you don’t mind dying when you do it. Is there anything you think it is worth dying for?”
At the time, Lucas hadn’t been able to think of anything. Now, he had plenty, and it seemed that Elanora was one of them.
“No!” Lucas yelled, and threw himself within the wide sweep of the creature’s arms. Thorn covered branches tore at him, ripping into his flesh. Vines appeared from the bole at the tree’s heart and tried to strangle him. Even the leaves seemed to have sharp points to them, more like those of the holly than oak or chestnut.
He plunged the spirit blade down into the heart of the creature, and maybe a normal sword couldn’t have made its way through so much of the trunk, but the one Lucas held could when it was propelled by his strength. He felt it pierce something, not any organ that a body normally held, but something nonetheless.
The tree grew still, freezing in place so that it was a tree once more, and not just a monster wearing one’s shape.
“You did it,” Elanora said, breathlessly. “
You killed the guardian. After all the people who have tried, you’re the one who has managed it.”
She reached up towards the piece of paper fluttering in the tree’s branches, seemed to remember herself, and paused.
“Are you ready, Lucas?” she asked.
“I… don’t know,” Lucas admitted. Now that the rush of battle was gone, the truth was that he ached. He had cuts all over his body, while his ribs ached from a blow he could barely remember landing.
“You were incredible,” Elanora said. “I didn’t think that anyone would finally clear the way to the stone.”
“Clear the way?” Lucas said.
“Sorry, Lucas,” Elanora said. “I do like you.”
She grabbed for the piece of paper on the tree, her hand closing around it, and she vanished from Lucas’ sight before he could react.
He grabbed for the paper after her, and found himself in an empty, sunlit clearing, no bigger across than a large room might have been. A pillar of golden wood stood at its heart, Elanora by its side. On it…
At first glance, Lucas couldn’t see the sphere that sat on it, yet as he looked closer, it was there in outline, a shifting thing of pure spirit, flickering only where it met the world. Elanora reached out her hand for it, clasping it to her like a hummingbird about to be let go.
“Elanora, no,” Lucas said.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” she replied, “but the guardian was always too strong for me. Don’t you see, Lucas? The spirit stone is the only way to make myself something more than spirit.”
“But I need it to fight the Master of Crows,” Lucas said. “The world needs it.”
“Does it have to be like that, though?” Elanora asked. The spirit of the stone seemed to flow around her like lightning. “We could work together, you and I. We could do everything… together.”
She took a step towards Lucas, and he didn’t know what to do in response. He couldn’t bring himself to strike at her, and the spirit stone seemed to hover above her palm, as if ready to dart away at the hint of a threat.
“We’re not enemies, Lucas,” Elanora said. “I don’t want to hurt you. I see a future where you’re here, with me.”
She moved closer, and there was a moment where Lucas could have stabbed her, but the moment passed in a blink. She kissed him then, the way that she’d kissed him before, and Lucas felt himself fall into that kiss. He kissed her back instinctively, needing her touch, needing to be close to her.
He felt, as he’d felt that first time, the faintest sliver of something precious transferring from him to her. The last time Elanora had stolen some of his reality, it had been the faintest trickle, but now it was like a storm pouring out of him.
He tried to pull back, and Elanora’s hands clasped onto his arms, holding onto him. It might have felt like passion, if Lucas hadn’t been able to feel the power being pulled from his body. He could feel Elanora growing more real moment by moment until he managed to push back away from her.
“I’m sorry, Lucas,” she said, “but I need all the reality I can get.”
“You can’t do this,” Lucas said, drawing his sword, or trying to. As he grabbed for it, his hand slipped through the space where the hilt was, not able to grab onto even a thing that was only half real.
“Trying to kill me?” Elanora said. “That isn’t very nice, Lucas, and there’s still plenty of reality that I could take from you.”
“I thought you said you liked me,” Lucas shot back.
“Oh, I do. You’re a beautiful thing, but also a real one, and that’s more important right now. I’ll keep you here, of course. I do like you, and it will give me a reason to come back to the Isle of Spirits once every century or so.”
“Every century!” Lucas shook his head, trying to get to her. “My sisters-”
“Your sisters don’t matter,” Elanora said. “The world doesn’t matter. It’s doomed anyway. If the Master of Crows doesn’t rip it to pieces, then the one to come… but I’m getting ahead of myself, and I’d rather concentrate on now. You do kiss beautifully, Lucas…”
She leaned forward so that her lips met his again, and even as the moment was exquisite, Lucas felt himself trying to fight back. He didn’t have the strength, though. There was nearly nothing left of him, and soon, soon he would be trapped completely.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Emeline could feel the pressure of the Master of Crows’ search bearing down on her with every moment that they traveled. His crows filled the skies, and there was little enough that she could do to stop them from watching, but she could at least keep him from sensing Violet outright.
That was anything but easy though. Violet shone with power, literally shone with it when it came to the eyes of the spirit. She was like a baby sized hole in the universe, punched through to some brighter thing beneath. To hide that from something like the Master of Crows took effort, and meant that she didn’t dare rest.
“Are you all right?” Cora asked her.
“I’m fine,” Emeline lied.
That just earned her a look that told her Cora knew exactly how tired she was.
“What do you want me to say?” Emeline asked. “I have to keep going. We all do.”
The inn in the distance would be no more than a brief respite. They wouldn’t be safe until they got to Monthys; maybe not even then, when the estate’s defenses hadn’t been fully rebuilt. Everyone was going there on the strength of a vision she’d had of the place strengthened by magic, but what if she was wrong? What if-
The second vision hit her as hard as the first had, and Emeline almost fell from the saddle as she watched it. She saw riders in New Army uniforms ranging ahead of a larger force. She saw them fall on her and the others, finding them not because of any clever hunting but because they’d simply moved faster on the road to Monthys. She saw Sebastian cut down, saw Valin and Edmore shot. She saw Cora dragged from the saddle, a knife rising…
“No!” Emeline screamed out, and the volume of it was enough to bring her back to herself.
She looked round to find that the others were staring at her.
“Emeline, what is it?” Cora said. “Are you all right?”
“Did you see something else?” Sebastian asked.
Emeline managed to nod, but it took a long sip from her water bottle before she was able to say anything.
“They’re coming,” Emeline said. “The Master of Crows’ people are coming. They find us, and they kill us.”
She couldn’t help talking about it as fact even though none of it had come to pass yet. She’d seen it. She’d seen the people around her, her friends, with blood on them. She’d heard their screams. Their deaths felt real, even though they were there in front of her, obviously still alive.
“How do they find us?” Sebastian asked.
“I don’t know,” Emeline said. “I think that they just guess that we must be heading for Monthys.”
“So we could turn off the path?” Valin said.
“There’s nowhere else to go,” Sebastian said. “We could try to make for the coast, but from here, we would be taking the same road, and finding a ship from there without being caught would be just as hard.”
That was the problem: wherever they went, it was a worse option. They would be travelling through a land that might or might not hold battalions of the New Army, trying at best, to flee from the country. Somehow, Emeline suspected that this time, there would be no coming back from it. Worse, she suspected that they would follow wherever Violet went. The child stood out through the eyes of those who could see, shining like a beacon to attract the enemy.
An idea came to her. It was dangerous, desperately, stupidly dangerous. It might mean dying. It might mean worse than dying, if she fell into the hands of the Master of Crows… but it was the only thing that Emeline could think of.
“You need to go to Monthys,” Emeline insisted. She’d seen it in all its glory; had seen the safety that it offered. “It’s the only place that a
ll of you will be safe.”
“That we will be safe,” Sebastian corrected her, but Emeline shook her head.
“If we all go, then the New Army will catch up to us.”
“So what are you planning to do?” Edmore asked. “Stand here and hold them all back while Sebastian gets the child to safety? All of us together couldn’t hold them back at Stonehome.”
“I can’t stand against them,” Emeline said, “but I can draw them away.”
Softly, she reached out, brushing her hand against Violet’s head. Looking with the eyes of the spirit, she saw a strand of pure white follow her hand, joining with her own, far less impressive, aura of power. Emeline could change that, though. She dropped the shield she’d been holding against the Master of Crows and put all of her effort into making herself shine out like a beacon, copying Violet’s aura of power.
“The Master of Crows will follow the pattern of Violet’s power,” she said. “So if I copy it, he will follow me, not all of you. I’ll lead them far enough away that you’ll have a good head start, then disappear from view.”
“No,” Sebastian said. “That plan would be suicide.”
“Suicide is hoping that we can outrun a cavalry division on a straight road,” Emeline shot back. “Edmore, you need to take over shielding Violet from the Master of Crows’ view, if you can.”
“I don’t have your power,” the warrior said. “But I’ll try to hold it a while.”
“Sebastian, you will need the heart stone of Stonehome,” Emeline said. She took it out and held it for him to take.
Sebastian didn’t move to grab it though. “This is a bad idea, Emeline. I won’t let you do this.”
“It’s not about whether you let me or not,” Emeline said. “I’ve already done it. I’m burning like a torch for the Master of Crows to see, and if you don’t want to be here when he arrives, you need to go.”
