Shadowlands

by Malan, Violette

  “We will have to leave the Ring for water, but we would need to do that in any case. You say the High Prince did not Heal you?”

  I had to let him help me to my feet, even though it meant I would be touching him. There was just no way my balance would be good enough without his help. I was relieved to see that I wasn’t being made worse by the contact, since I had to keep holding on to his arm as we made our way out of the Ring. Either the stones were much closer than they appeared, or whatever it was that bothered me here in the Lands also distorted my sense of spatial dimensions. It seemed that we only took a few steps and we were outside the Ring, standing in brilliant sunshine.

  All the while I was getting a running commentary of things from Wolf, almost like the teleprompter that runs along the bottom of the screen on news channels. His feelings were running so hot that I almost couldn’t make sense of anything [rage well pushed down but threatening to erupt; the pleasure the others had felt in killing his Pack mates/the vicious predators]. A Hound had come through the Portal with us and been killed by Wild Riders. [Who had it been? Which one?] It wasn’t Fox, he was sure of that [but someone he could have saved, given the chance; guilt; relief]. The dra’aj it had eaten would be returned to the Lands.

  Wolf led me to a nearby grouping of rocks and helped me lower myself onto one that was covered with moss. As soon as he let go of me, I could hear the burbling of water and realized the rocks were on the banks of a stream. Or maybe it was a brook, I know the terminology has something to do with size, but that’s all I know. The air was warm, with a light breeze, and this had to be the most peaceful place I’d ever been in. I took a good grip with my left hand on the edge of the rock I was sitting on, and with my right hand on a rock about shoulder height next to me.

  “Okay,” I said, swallowing. Was I imagining it, or was I actually feeling better?

  Wolf turned away and knelt next to the stream. His human clothes were changed now, and he was wearing what looked like silver suede trousers tucked into black boots that came halfway up his calves. What had been a red shirt had changed into a sleeveless tunic worn over a black shirt, long-sleeved, but with wide cuffs held in place by gra’if wristbands. The tunic was belted with a web of black leather, from which hung his sword, a long dagger, and a small pouch about twice the size of those folding coin purses everyone has now.

  I couldn’t be sure, but I thought that Wolf was speaking to the water. A Natural, I thought. There might be a Sprite or Nymph living in the stream. Wolf dipped both his hands in as if he was scooping up water for himself. I fumbled the pill bottle out of my bag one-handed. I still needed the other to hold on with. Did he have something to bring me water in? The thought of bending over the stream myself brought on an attack of vertigo so strong I had to shut my eyes and hold on to the rocks again.

  “Valory?”

  I forced my eyes to open and found Wolf standing over me. He appeared to be holding a shallow crystal cup between his two hands—crystal so perfect, and so clear, it was hard to see where glass ended and water began. I reached to take it from him, but he shook his head slightly and I realized he was right, I would probably drop it.

  I put about eight more Gravol in my mouth and leaned forward so Wolf could bring the cup to my lips. He somehow managed to hold it so that I could drink from it without awkwardness, exactly as easily as if I were holding the cup myself. Definitely not human, I thought. As if I needed any more proof.

  I lifted my head and he dropped his hands. I gasped and shot my own hands out, only to have nothing fall. The cup had disappeared.

  “That’s handy,” I said, after I was sure the movement wasn’t going to bring the water back up, pills and all. “Will it come back when you need it again?”

  “Will what come back?”

  “The cup.”

  “Oh, there was no cup,” he smiled, and this time I saw the same unearthly beauty I’d seen in the faces of Alejandro, and Cassandra. I knew I should look away, but I couldn’t. “That was just the form the water took for ease of carrying.”

  I swallowed again, my mouth dry, and told my eyes to blink. “You could charge a fortune for that trick in the Shadowlands.” I never thought I’d be glad to be nauseated, but it was the only thing keeping me from just sitting there staring at him forever.

  “The magic is not mine, but belongs to Mountain Stream.” He gestured at the water.

  Mountain Stream, huh? I would have rolled my eyes if I could. Some parents have no imagination.

  “Is it appropriate for me to thank her?”

  “It is a him in this case, but yes.”

  I don’t know where I got the idea that all Water Sprites would be female. After all, I’d only met one, and that doesn’t make for a statistical universe.

  “Thank you for the drink,” I said, feeling a little foolish now, since I seemed to be addressing nothing whatsoever. “It was much appreciated.” I gasped and jerked backward when a slap of water formed and dissolved in front of me, but without splashing me at all.

  “He acknowledges your thanks, and invites you to drink again should you require it.” Wolf studied my face. “Are you well now? Your color seems to be improving.”

  I moved my head slowly from side to side. My stomach stayed still. Though I wouldn’t know anything for sure until I stood up. “Where to now?”

  “Across the Moor of Ravens, beyond the Sea of Ma’arban. That is where Ice Tor dwells.” His ash-gray eyes narrowed. “Is that not what you said?”

  “So that’s the Quartz Ring?” I managed to point toward the standing stones I could still see nearby without lifting my hand.

  His perfect sloe-black eyebrows drew together. I blinked and this time managed to look away.

  “Were you not still conscious then when we came through the Portal? We brought a Hound and two Riders with us, and while the Portal Guards dealt with them, we came here, and Moon went to her sister to report our plans.”

  “Right.” That explained all the noise and commotion I thought I remembered. “We should get moving, then.” I hoped I sounded more resolute than I felt. “I won’t get better, and there’s only so much the drugs will do for me.”

  Wolf crouched down on his heels and took my hand. His fingers felt cool, and I wondered if that was his natural temperature or whether I was running a fever. “I will take you back if you wish it. You warned us, but I did not realize how ill you would become.”

  I had to wonder just how bad I looked. “This is the only solution we have,” I reminded him. “The only one that helps the Hunt, and the Outsiders. The only clean ending for you and your brother.”

  Wolf searched my face with his eyes. I tried to smile, decided in the last minute to clench my jaw instead. No telling how ghastly the smile might have been. Finally, Wolf nodded and straightened to his feet, laying my hand back in my lap.

  “Mountain Stream tells me that there is a hostel along his upper banks. We should go there first.” He gestured at my linen dress. “We must find you some clothing better suited for a journey, and shoes.”

  I looked down at my creased clothing, which closely resembled sheets that had been slept on for a week. And as for my shoes, the less said about their usefulness on this rocky ground, the better. I kicked them off; I was better barefoot, if we didn’t have far to go. I braced myself, taking a good grip on my rocks. Wolf put out his hands, but I shook my head—carefully, so as not to upset my balance.

  “Better not,” I said. “In fact, can you ask that tree over there if it would spare me a walking stick?”

  I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when he did.

  With the disappearance of three of their number through the Portal, the attackers began to draw off, and Alejandro breathed more easily. He and Nighthawk were still outnumbered, but the Portal was near, and gra’if was a terrible thing to face. He thought he knew which of these Riders had been the one talking to Wolf when he’d arrived, and when he saw that one taking advantage of the confusion to make his so
litary way through the crowd of screaming humans, he gave chase.

  He slowed, cursing, as he entered the food court. He saw nothing that could be his quarry, not even any sign of disruption or confusion among the people lining up for food and heading for exits. People who were now looking at him sideways, and giving him plenty of room. Alejandro grimaced and lowered his sword, sliding it back into the body of the cane he carried in his left hand. He smiled and nodded at the people nearest him, and was not at all surprised when many smiled and nodded in return. They likely thought he was part of a movie shoot and had become lost.

  Alejandro took two deep, slow breaths. His heart was hammering in a way it had not done in many years—if ever. Perhaps it was just as well the other had escaped. He walked more slowly through the court, searching now not just for the Rider he’d been following, but for any sign of the type of disturbance he’d caused himself.

  Had it, after all, been a Rider that he had seen? And had that Rider simply Moved when the opportunity presented itself?

  He took a final look around before turning back. There was nothing to see here, and if the immediate threat was over, he had to go after Valory as quickly as he could.

  Besides, he had left Hawk alone with the chaos in the departure lounge long enough. Almost before he had completed his turn, there was a SNAP! of displaced air and his arms were pinned at his sides, seized in firm, painful grips, as a Rider materialized on each side of him.

  “No noise,” the Sunward one on the right said. “Come quietly and you’ll have nothing to fear. We only want to talk.”

  “Any nonsense, and we’ll Fade you right here.”

  Alejandro did not even bother to turn his head to see the Ward of the other Rider. “On which end of the leash are you?” he asked, pulling his lips back off his teeth as far as they would go.

  “Never you mind. You come with us, and no tricks.”

  There was no point in arguing further, nor any to resisting, the grip on his arms was so tight. Even Moving would have bought him very little else but time, since they would all three Move together. He might as well see who, or what, wished to speak with him. It was not as though there could be a Signed room waiting for him. If none of these even bore gra’if, they could not have such a thing.

  He could always Move later, if it seemed they would like to kill him.

  They took him into one of the stairwells in the Go Bus section of the station. This one looked to be under construction, with new boarding blocking it off from the main concourse.

  “Your light doesn’t shine very brightly, Old One.” This from a Moonward Rider sitting on an upper step.

  “I am no Solitary, that you should address me in this manner,” Alejandro said.

  “Ah, but you’re old all right.” The other’s grin sent a tingle of frost up Alejandro’s spine as the face seemed to lengthen and then shorten again. Hound, he thought. Not a Rider after all. Alejandro studied the thing’s face. It had been a Moonward Rider once, but that was all that he could be sure of.

  “You’re one of the ones who live here, aren’t you? You’re the one with the girl. I can smell her on you. I don’t see it. How she does fit into this chase? No one seems to be able to tell me what’s so special about her?”

  Alejandro’s grin was his only answer. The Hound stood and came down two steps. “What if I bite you, Sunward Rider?”

  The chill spread from Alejandro’s back around to his chest, seeming to slow his heart. “Then I would die,” he said.

  “And your dra’aj would be mine, such as it is. It wouldn’t return to the Lands.”

  “That has been true all this long while that I have lived in the Shadowlands,” Alejandro said. The chill lessened as he spoke. What he said was true. He had not considered it in those terms before, but his ages-old decision not to return to the Lands, meant exactly that. His dra’aj would be forever lost.

  So be it. If nothing else, this knowledge freed him of the paralyzing fear of the Hunt. He took a deep breath and managed to stand a little straighter in his captors’ hands. They, at least, were Riders, he felt certain.

  “Then I’m right, you follow no one, you aren’t for the High Prince?”

  Alejandro would have shrugged, but for the Riders holding him. “What of it?”

  The other, the Hound, suddenly thrust his face forward. Only the rigorous training of the bullring, where millimeters might make the difference between life and death, prevented Alejandro from flinching. “Would you do me the great courtesy of standing farther away,” he said. “Your breath smells of rotting meat.”

  The grin on the Hound’s face did not fade, but he did move away.

  “You’re the closest thing to a neutral party I’m likely to find, aren’t you? I’m Foxblood,” he said. “I’m Pack Leader. I won’t kill you, not this time, if you’ll agree to take a message for me.”

  “What message?”

  “Tell the High Prince the Hunt has found a refuge in this world. If she leaves it to us, we’ll stop preying on People.”

  Alejandro glanced to his right, and to his left. “And does this Hound speak for you? Do you, also, ascribe to this bargain?”

  “It suits us well enough.”

  “What of those of us who make our home here?”

  Foxblood shrugged. “What do I care? If you stay out of our way, we’ll stay out of yours.” He glanced at the two Riders holding Alejandro’s arms and smiled. “Of course, we’d rather you didn’t even have the chance to interfere with us, so perhaps you’ll want to go home.”

  I am home, Alejandro thought. “I am neutral, as you say. How am I to deliver this message?”

  Alejandro’s breath caught as the Hound took him by the throat. A grip that would have killed a human was only painful to him.

  “Don’t play games with me, Old One. You talk to her followers, you’ve fought next to them, neutral or not. Either she’ll listen to you, or they will. It doesn’t matter to me which.” The Hound released him, and Alejandro sucked in a lungful of air. “I’ll let you live when you bring back the answer. What happens after that depends on what the answer is, but no guarantees.” He looked once more at Alejandro’s captors and jerked his head. There was displaced air, and he was alone.

  When Alejandro returned to it, the departure area was still in chaos, station and first aid personnel helping the injured, weeping, and hysterical passengers. Alejandro had not noticed him during the fight, but he now saw Nik Polihronidis on his knees in front of a white-haired woman still clutching at her rolling suitcase, holding her free wrist between his fingers as if taking her pulse. Peering through the crowd, he recognized other Outsiders, from the morning they’d trapped the Hound, circulating through the people.

  Alejandro began making his way toward Nik when he saw a man signaling him from the edge of the crowd. He was only able to recognize Nighthawk from his coloring and the way that he carried himself, as he now looked entirely differently from a few moments before, a protective maneuver in which they were both well versed. Now the other Rider appeared to be merely another among the crowd who stood idly watching. He even had the same look of curiosity decently covered with concern that showed on the faces of the humans, though Alejandro felt certain Hawk’s concern was more than skin-deep. The old Warden had lived long enough among humans to care about them almost as much as Alejandro himself.

  Hawk’s ruddy face broadened in satisfaction when their eyes met, and he edged around the watchers to Alejandro’s side. At that moment Nik straightened from his examination of the elderly woman, and after a quick look around him, circled toward them.

  “I thought you might be Faded,” Nighthawk said, as he clapped him on the shoulder.

  “What the hell was all this about?” Nik’s voice was quiet, but his words, and the hard planes of his face, left Alejandro in no doubt of his feelings.

  “They have gone through the Portal.” Hawk glanced at Alejandro. “I can only assume deliberately, since they were heading here when they we
re set upon.”

  “What of your people?” Alejandro turned to Nik. “Did the Hunt create any new ones?”

  Nik shook his head in short jerks, though he seemed to be calmer. “No, we were lucky. The Hounds were busy with you guys. We didn’t really close in until you ran them off.” He blinked and focused on them, as if really seeing them. “We wouldn’t need many more to help us, if they were all like you two.”

  “A fine vote of confidence, for which I thank you, but I somehow gathered the impression that they were not, precisely, trying to kill us.” Alejandro exchanged a look with Hawk.

  “What now?” Nik was distracted by a signal from one of his people, a tall woman in blue jeans, sandals, and a man’s white dress shirt.

  “I must go after Valory,” Alejandro said. “I must know she is well before I attend to any other matter.”

  For a moment it seemed that Nik might argue with him, but his face softened, and he nodded. “Sure, but we’ll meet up later, okay? Call or text me as soon as you get back.”

  Alejandro drew Hawk away from the center of the concourse into one of the side lounges where they could wait until the main concourse cleared. “I was lured away on purpose,” he told the other Rider as soon as they were alone. “But not to kill me. The Leader of the Hunt spoke with me, saying that he spoke for the Basilisk Warriors as well.”

  “What did he want with you?” Hawk’s brow furrowed.

  “With me, nothing. But as a long-term resident here, he sees me as neutral, and he had a proposal, one which he wishes taken to the High Prince.”

  Hawk drew himself up, his eyebrows as high as they could go. “The Hunt has a proposal? The Hunt wishes to negotiate?” He shook his head. “It is unheard of.”

  “Stable Hounds are unheard of. Hounds who can Move are unheard of. Whether it is the human dra’aj or no, this is no longer the Hunt of our Singers’ histories. Perhaps it is time for us to redefine what we know of them.”