Shadowlands

by Malan, Violette

  “No, please, don’t touch me,” the creature said. “I won’t be able to resist. The hunger’s always hungry, you know?” Nik swallowed and allowed Alejandro to push him back. He couldn’t afford to be drained again, not now.

  “It is well, Hound. The Portal is nearby, can you follow me if I Move there?”

  “Sure. Of course. Then what?”

  Nik knew exactly what was making Alejandro hesitate. These were the things that had preyed on him, on Poco and Elaine—on all the Outsiders. And they’d done the same and worse to Riders over who knew how long. But surely there had to be more to them than this? Wolf had been one, and now he was different.

  “We should help him,” he said aloud. “If he wants it.”

  “I will take you to the High Prince myself,” Alejandro said. “She will Heal you, as she did Stormwolf.”

  The Hound inclined his head, turned it slightly to one side to expose his throat. “Go. I’ll follow.”

  Nik was standing very close now, almost between Alejandro and the Hound. “Where do you want me to wait for you,” he was beginning to say, when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. The Hound’s hand snaked out toward him, and the gra’if blade swung, and the hand, the paw, the taloned foot, lay on the ground and became a hand once more.

  The sword flashed again, the head came free from the body, and Alejandro was pushing Nik back out of the way of the fountaining blood.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  ELAINE SHOOK HER HEAD and closed her phone. “Still no response,” she said. “It rings seven times, and then goes to voice mail.”

  Moon looked around the intersection where York Street crossed King Street. There was a widening of the sidewalk here, and tables set out where people were sitting drinking coffee, some reading large sheets of paper, others books, and some studying flat black rectangular squares. It looked peaceful. Fun.

  “What does David’s phone sound like?” she asked. “I thought I heard something.”

  Elaine manipulated her own phone until it showed her a different display. “Chingon,” she said. “It’s a piece of music called ‘El Pistolero.’”

  “Try it again,” Moon suggested.

  Elaine changed the display again and pressed one of the buttons now revealed. Moon studied the Outsider woman. She could neither see nor feel the quality in her that made Elaine an Outsider and not an ordinary human, but she had been warned what signs to look for. At the moment, the slight line that formed between the woman’s brows indicated concern, so all was well.

  Except, of course, that this David was missing.

  “Did you know him well? David?”

  Elaine was shaking her head, and clearly about to speak when Moon held up a finger. “There,” she said. “This way.” She led the way east. “Call him again. Keep calling until I say.”

  Elaine complied. “I don’t know him at all,” she said. “But it’s like being adopted and suddenly finding your real family. All these people you’ve never met, who you now have so much in common with.”

  “But this is a good thing, is it not? You have gained, not lost.” Moon concentrated, but the sound had faded again. “Again, please.”

  “Sorry.” Elaine pressed the button again. “In a way I’ve gained, but Nik…Nik’s forgotten that he told me this, but—well, I’m going to live longer than usual, apparently, but I won’t be able to have children, so—” Here, Elaine gave a small sigh that, from her smile, was meant to be laughter. “I guess I win some and I lose some.”

  Moon placed her hand on her womb. “Yes, I guess we do.”

  They had proceeded almost halfway to the next intersection and Elaine’s eyes widened, as she, too, heard a faint sound of music, the same phrase repeated again and again.

  “Here.” The sound came from a round bin made up of metal mesh, lined with a thin green bag. Moon tilted her head, listened as the phrase of music repeated once more, stabbed her hand into the bin, and came up with a phone that looked much like Elaine’s.

  “No way.” Elaine snapped hers shut, turning her head to look first one way, then another. “No way David or anyone else dropped that in the garbage by mistake. That’s a $600 phone.”

  “Do you see him?” But Elaine was already heading for a nearby building. A low stone wall surrounded the entrance, enclosing a small section of grass and flowers. A man was leaning against this wall, holding one of the sets of wide papers in front of him. His eyes lifted as Elaine approached him, and he smiled. The hairs rose on the back of Moon’s neck.

  “Excuse me,” Elaine was saying. “Have you seen a man in his fifties? Blue jeans? Tattooed forearms? He—”

  The man put his papers aside, and his smiled widened. Surely he had far too many teeth.

  “Elaine!” Moon was at her side in an eye blink, and as soon as her hand closed around the Outsider’s wrist, she Moved.

  Half-closed blinds shielded Elaine’s office from the afternoon sun. Most of the light came from the computer monitors they’d left running when they’d gone to find out why David wasn’t answering his phone.

  “Was that—”

  Moon never found out what Elaine meant to ask her. She was abruptly pushed to one side by the rough scaly back of a monster.

  For a time I wasn’t sure where I was. There was an odd quality to the light, as if it glowed and flickered at the same time. Then I realized that I was looking at the coals of an open fire, a fire that burned without smoke, since I couldn’t smell any. A murmur of voices turned my attention in another direction, and when I saw Wolf and Ice Tor standing next to the workbench, it all came flooding back to me. I grabbed my left wrist, and lifted my hand to eye level.

  There was more than enough light, even in this darkened corner, to show me the new shape of my hand. At first my mind refused to acknowledge it, it didn’t even feel like my hand. There was no pain, no numbness, and no, I was glad to say, phantom feeling. It was, strangely, as if my finger had never been there. Maybe I’m in shock.

  The other two hadn’t seen I was awake. They were still by the workbench, still looking down at something.

  The Horn.

  I sat up, fully expecting the room to spin around me, but again, nothing. Not even a trace of the motion sickness that had been troubling me so much on the way here. Whatever the Dwarf’s magic was, it was still in place.

  I must have made some sound, however, because Wolf was at my side before I saw him move.

  “Are you well?”

  “I think so,” I said. “Is it ready? Did it work?” I gathered my feet under me and Wolf held out his forearm for me, hesitating only when I shook my head. I pushed myself up using my right hand only. Even though there was no pain, even though it didn’t, yet, feel any differently, I couldn’t bring myself to use my left hand, not even to touch Wolf’s gra’if-covered wrist. My eye kept being drawn to it, as if to check that the missing finger was still missing.

  Ice Tor stood aside, and I approached the workbench. He had laid out a piece of black felt, and on top of this rested what looked like a miniature flute. It was about the length of my hand, had a raised hole for the lips, just like a real flute, and air holes as if for notes.

  “I was just saying that it is much larger than the one the Basilisk had,” Wolf said.

  “Different elements, perhaps,” the Dwarf said. “Or simply the other was more finely made, by artisans of more skill than I.”

  “But will it work?”

  “That I cannot tell you. It is made, made well, with the best elements I had to hand. It should work.” He paused here, fixed his eyes on Wolf and then on me, making sure we were both looking back at him. “But those elements, however good, were not many. The Horn is less stable, more fragile than it would have been had we many parts to draw upon.” He looked back at it, then nodded his head firmly. “It will work, but I would not depend upon it to work more than once.”

  “If we only have once…” I turned to Wolf. “Does this mean we should give it to Cassandra?”


  He had his eyes fixed on the artifact. “It is what we have,” he said finally. “We will make it work for us.”

  That wasn’t exactly an answer, but I figured we had some time yet to talk it over.

  Ice Tor folded the black felt over the Horn, bringing in the edges like an envelope. He pulled a hair out of the tangle on his head and tied the package closed before presenting it to us. I looked at Wolf, but he shook his head.

  “You carry it, Valory. You keep it safe.”

  It wasn’t until after I’d tucked it into my shirt that I realized I’d picked up the Horn with my left hand.

  “If we’re going,” I said to Wolf, “can you make me another flask of chicken soup? And give me a half hour or so to digest it. I wasn’t prepared before, but this time there’s no reason for me to Ride on an empty stomach.” With luck, I had enough Gravol left to help me keep the soup down.

  Wolf brought the flask out again, but slowly, and all the while with a puzzled look on his face. He paused with his hand on the stopper. “The flask is ready to provide more broth,” he said. “But why not wait until we are back in the Shadowlands, and you can eat anything you like?”

  “But that’s going to be a while, isn’t it? I mean, even though we know the way now, it’ll still take us at least as long to get back to the Quartz Ring and…” He was shaking his head, smiling. It wasn’t that easy to make him smile. I wondered what I’d said.

  “We only Rode here because I did not know the place, and could not Move here. Now we have only to take the Cloud Horses where they would like to be, and I can Move us directly to the Portal, and then through to your home. The sooner we bring the Horn, the better.”

  Ice Tor escorted us back to the meadow where the Cloud Horses waited, patiently cropping grass. Because of the nature of the space Ice Tor inhabited—or created, we still didn’t know which—Wolf didn’t want to Move from where we were, and the Dwarf took us all the way back to the rocky hilltop where the boulders were. It was still night there, the full moon making a bright spot behind the clouds.

  “Farewell, Stormwolf, son of Rain at Sunset. May the Chimera guide you well. Farewell, Valory Truthreader. Come and tell me of the outcome, if you live.”

  And with those ominous words, we were alone again.

  Instantly, I broke out into a sweat, and the world spun to the left before wobbling back to the right. Wolf took my elbow and guided my hands to the pommel of the saddle. As if the touch of something familiar steadied me, or maybe it was the nearness of the Cloud Horse, my head cleared and my stomach settled.

  Shallow breaths, I told myself. It had all seemed so easy. Persuading Moon and Wolf back at the Royal York—that felt so far away. I glanced at my left hand and quickly looked away. Nothing seemed easy now.

  Wolf was staring off into the distance, shaking his head in short, shallow arcs. The thin sloe-black braid he’d pulled loose to give to Ice Tor moved back and forth. I almost reached out to tuck it back into place, but let my hand fall without touching him.

  “We’re not going to the High Prince, are we?”

  “Valory, this is my chance—it may be my only one—to make my brother listen to me. If I give the Horn to another, they will not see this as I do.” I patted Wolf on the shoulder as he continued to speak. I heard his deep voice, and could almost feel it in my bones, but I didn’t make out any more words. Cassandra had warned me that human drugs wouldn’t work as well in the Lands, and it looked as if the Gravol was beginning to lose its effectiveness.

  “Wolf.” I’m pretty sure I interrupted him, but at that point I didn’t much care. “It’s okay. I’m with you.”

  I think he spoke to the Cloud Horses and got some kind of answer before he boosted me up into my saddle. He said something about a short delay, and I think I nodded, but I can’t be sure. In a moment he was in the saddle himself, and put out his hand for me to take. It was his left hand, I saw, and somehow, seeing his missing finger, and the way he paid it no attention at all, made me feel a little better. Our hands touched. [I saw the Basilisk Prince, a Sunward Rider dressed in magenta] and then CRACK! my ears were popping and we were outside the hostel once more. I managed to get down from the Cloud Horse on my own without falling, and held it together long enough for Wolf to run them into their stable. He was back out so quickly I wasn’t sure whether he’d taken the time to remove their saddles, but to be honest, I was too far gone to ask.

  “Asleep again,” Wolf said, holding out his hands. Again, I took hold of his wrists and WHOOSH! I was on my hands and knees and Wolf was arguing with someone over my head.

  “You know me, Cloud of Witness,” Wolf was saying. “I must get this human girl back to the Shadowlands before her illness kills her. If this was something one of us could Heal, it would have been done already.” I couldn’t hear the response, but I could guess it from what Wolf said next. “Of course the High Prince knows about this journey. Do you think I act without her knowledge and permission?”

  Riders aren’t so different from human beings after all. I saw that these guys weren’t going to question Wolf’s authority, even though they probably thought they should.

  The next thing I knew I was being lifted to my feet and Wolf was walking me forward, murmuring under his breath to brace myself. The Gravol seemed to have worn off completely and, frankly, if he’d told me at this point that he was about to walk me off a cliff, I would have nodded and kept on walking. Somebody said once that people didn’t die from seasickness, they only wished they could. That was the state I’d reached.

  Again, the blackness, the feeling that my breath was being squeezed from my lungs, and we were someplace very hot [Mexico City, what happened to Toronto?], then I was on a cold terrazzo floor, and people were helping me to my feet [he was going to propose to his girlfriend tonight; she had a winning lottery ticket in a jacket pocket at home], and Wolf was saying. “My friend slipped. I am sure she is well now. Thank you.”

  All I knew was that the world was level again, without even the wobbly edges that I’d had at Ice Tor’s place. I was home. And starving. Fortunately, there was a convenience store right there on the departure level, and I made Wolf stop while I grabbed myself a chocolate bar and a Diet Coke.

  “That does not smell like food,” he said, nose wrinkling as he leaned closer to me. “Nor drink, for that matter.”

  “And I’m sure it would kill me eventually, if this was all I ever ate, but for now, I’m just getting a bit of an energy boost. Then we’ll see what you have in your fridge.”

  There were too many people on the concourse for us to risk Moving from there, but Union Station has a lot of back corridors and deserted alcoves, and it didn’t take Wolf long to find us one empty enough that he could Move us into his apartment. We’d learned from the last time that it wasn’t a good idea to walk across the street when we didn’t have to.

  The place was exactly as I remembered it. The temperature just cool enough for comfort, the air lightly scented with saffron. The drapes and blinds were open, but the sheers were drawn, giving the otherwise unlit room a quiet, misty feel. I could see the red message light blinking on the phone, and I moved toward it. As I did so, my mobile began to vibrate and rang twice.

  “You’ve got a message,” I said, as I pulled my mobile out. Seven missed calls. One from Alejandro, six from Nik.

  “It is unlikely to be for me.” Wolf was at my side looking down at the blinking light.

  I put down my mobile, lifted the receiver with my right hand, and pressed the message button. I disturbed a sheet of notepaper as I did. “Valory, call Nik,” it said. I put my finger on it. Nik had been here with Alejandro. They’d Moved. I handed the note to Wolf just as the message played back.

  “Dr. Kennaby,” the voice said. “Sorry to disturb you, this is Jonathan down at the front desk. You must have seen the damage to the hall outside your door—and well, the door itself. The lock still works, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. The carpenters will return to finish on M
onday. It looks as though someone tried to break in, and when they couldn’t, they set fire to the hallway.” The voice hesitated and then continued. “I’m afraid the police would like to speak with you when you have a moment.”

  Wolf was already heading for the door, the note from Nik still in his hand. The door swung open without any difficulty. There had obviously been a clean-up attempt, but anyone would have known something was wrong. The table that had stood outside the door was gone, and a whole section of the green, red, and gold carpet had been replaced, but they hadn’t been able to do much with the wood trim around the door. There was a still faint smell of scorched wood, as well as something much less pleasant. I looked at Wolf, but he was studying the hallway, brow furrowed, nostrils flared. His almond skin paled to bone, the scars around his eye standing out, and his eyes moved to my face. He looked as though he had something to say, but was afraid to say it.

  I lifted my shoulders and let them drop again. I took a step out into the hall and deliberately put my hand on the doorframe.

  My knees buckled as the sounds, the smells, washed through me. I could dimly feel Wolf’s hands, his arms around me, holding me up. But over it, like a cold, slick fog, lay Nighthawk’s despair. Fox’s triumphant feeding. I clapped my hand over my mouth and turned my face into Wolf’s chest, thinking maybe I should sit down, thinking that if I were going to faint, I could at least do it from closer to the floor. My stomach was sorry I’d eaten the chocolate bar. Tears ran down my face onto my hands. Maybe I hadn’t known Hawk for very long, but I’d touched him. I knew things about him even his mother didn’t know.

  And it could have been Alejandro. I don’t think I really understood until that moment that these long-lived, inhuman People could actually die.

  Finally, Wolf’s baked-cinnamon smell grew stronger than the blood and the smoke. I straightened, got my hands up between us. The way I felt, I knew that if I didn’t push him away right then, I might never be able to do it.