Shadow

by David L Dawson

Ginger picked up the beginners spell book, idly playing with it. Cressida had a point. While it was too horrible to think about should anything fatal happen to her she had to know that her daughter could take care of herself.

  “I could help you,” Ginger offered.

  “Good idea,” said Cressida, smiling broadly. “That was what I planned all along.”

  Chapter 9 – Silver vs. Spider

  The strange sound of a bell trilling in the house awoke Abe. He’d fallen asleep from his position at the side of the wall that ringed the Widdershins small estate. His spine hurt, and his neck hurt, but he ignored it. He gave himself a few slaps to the face to make sure he was fully awake and peered over the top of the wall. Cressida still had her bedroom light on. Did the girl ever go to sleep? Still, he’d had his three hours sleep for the day and could wait. She had to go to sleep eventually.

  It was two long, boring hours later when the light was finally switched off. Abe immediately set forth with his plan, which started with climbing carefully and stealthily over the wall and creeping across the grass to the house. He stopped when he was under the window of Cressida’s bedroom and began muttering his spell. Nothing happened. He tried it again, and for a third time, but still nothing happened. The idea had been to levitate himself up to the girl’s bedroom but for some reason he couldn’t. Are the protective spells on this house so powerful? Why did a teacher and an archaeologist have such power surrounding them?

  He knew a spell to detect protection spells so he tried that. Immediately he stepped back in awe. The whole house was wrapped with spell after spell after spell. It must have taken the Widdershins years to build all this up. There was no way he would ever be able to penetrate this house. Even his masters would have trouble breaching it.

  They’re not going to like this, he thought. I’ll be lucky to escape their lair alive after failing a second time.

  “Abercrombie Hayden,” challenged Miss Weber. Abe spun around to face her, instantly recognizing the woman. He’d seen a picture of her, shown to him by her father and his mentor Copernicus Silver. He briefly thought of him, sentenced to spend the rest of his life in that horrible asylum. How Abe had hated that place.

  “Rebecca Silver,” said Abe.

  Miss Weber started. Obviously her father had told this man her true name, the name Copernicus had given her, but it was always disconcerting to hear it. For so long she had been simply known as Miss Weber. She hated her father even more now. How dare he tell every psycho he’d met her true name!

  “If you’re here to harm Cressida then I have to stop you,” she told him. “I won’t let you hurt her.”

  “I’m here to take her back to my masters,” said Abe.

  “And what will they do to her?”

  “They will kill her.”

  “You’re not a killer!” she told him. “You just turn people into marble.”

  “I won’t be killing her. They will.”

  Miss Weber snorted derisively. “Like there’s a difference. Though I suppose turning people into marble is just as bad as killing them. At least with death there is a release. What you and my father do is nothing short of monstrous.”

  “So I’m worse than a killer now? Make your mind up.”

  Miss Weber advanced further forward, spells circulating in her mind. She wanted to make him doubt himself even more. This man was her father’s disciple and he was the closest she could get to tormenting him.

  “Do you know what it’s like for your victims?” she accused him.

  “No,” he admitted. “I do know they look pretty when they’re turned to marble.”

  “I will show you what it feels like.”

  Abe smirked, realizing it had been a while since he’d used that particular spell on anybody. Miss Weber would be an excellent addition to his collection, and something to remember her father by. She did have the same eyes as Copernicus, and what better way to honor the man who had meant so much to him? He flung the spell at her. She reacted instantly; she knew how to counteract it. The spell was deflected back and it struck him head on. He screamed.

  “I spent all my life thinking up a way to counter a spell nobody but my father knew,” she said, advancing upon him as he slowly felt his legs turning stiff. “So I had to be clever and create my own, similar spell. I absorbed your spell, converted it to my own and flipped it back at you. You’re turning into a statue made of crystal.”

  She enjoyed the horror on his face. Maybe she enjoyed it a little too much. At the moment she didn’t care. She was getting to do to someone what she’d always wanted to do to her father; give him a taste of his own medicine.

  “How does it feel?” she demanded.

  “You can’t do this to me!” Abe cried, looking down to see the white, translucent crystal his legs were turning into it. The process was creeping up his torso now, towards his chest. He couldn’t think of anything to stop it.

  “How does it feel?” Miss Weber demanded again.

  “Awful!” he cried.

  Miss Weber smiled with satisfaction. “Now you know what your victims feel like. You can stay like this until your trial.”

  “Please, no,” Abe begged, his entire body aside from his head crystal now. “I can’t stand to be like this! Please!”

  “You should have thought of that before you tried to kidnap Cressida.”

  And just like that the process stopped. He stared at her, wondering why she had given him mercy. Miss Weber stared at Abe, open-mouthed. She had to do something before he escaped.

  “Fly away!” she screamed. A tornado spell erupted from her mouth, similar but more powerful to the one Ginger had used on the irie. A terrified Abe found himself grabbed by a seven-foot tall cone of wind and flung into the sky. His screams of terror faded away as his body disappeared over the horizon.

  When Miss Weber went to find the body there was nothing there. How he had survived such an experience she had no idea. Still, he had orders to capture Cressida and when he tried again she would be waiting. Next time I will turn your whole body into crystal and you won’t be able to escape.

  Chapter 10 – A Little Chat with a God

  Ginger tucked Cressida in bed, being careful not to let her elbow touch the Book of Fire, which slept with her. They had spent two hours going through each spell in the beginner’s book in order, and Cressida had excelled at every one of them, even some of the more complex ones. Cressida, however, had started to yawn every five minutes, and it was almost two in the morning, so Ginger had muttered a sleeping spell and sent her daughter off to dreamland. She needed the sleep. They both did. The girl had learned enough for tonight and it was more important she stay alert for tomorrow’s lesson with Emily. I hope they don’t argue too much, Ginger thought as she walked to the door. Emily may be a pain but she’s our only hope to be rid of the Book of Fire.

  She looked back at Cressida, sleeping peacefully as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Ginger wished that were so, but right at this moment she beamed with pride. Cressida was a born enchanter.

  In the world of dreams a smug Cressida was Pangaea’s premier sorcerer. Her photos appeared in all the magazines; she was interviewed on all the top rated television shows and she had her own perfume “Scent of a Sorcerer.” Her fame was gargantuan yet still she was a grounded person who still had time to go to school and make friends with the little people.

  She was wearing a ruby studded tiara and a flowing golden gown and eating her breakfast at the dinner table when there was a phone call. Her butler, a curious mixture of Mr. Blueoak and Emily, went to answer it. She continued to eat her toast with marmalade as the butler talked.

  “Who was it?” she inquired.

  “It was the emperor,” said the butler. “He needs you right away.”

  “I have an appointment with Teen Witch Monthly today so they can interview me about my defeat of the Moon Giant cult,” Cressida explained. “I can’t miss it. I need to explain to the world the true ramifications of what would have
happened if this cult had succeeded in their insane plan.”

  The butler appeared scared. Cressida stood up and took hold of his hands in a caring way, as if there was nothing in the universe that mattered more than the feelings of this one person. Cressida was a very giving, caring person.

  “What is it?” Cressida asked.

  “The emperor’s daughter has been kidnapped,” the butler explained, a single tear running down his cheek. “The Shadow Assemblage is back and they want revenge.”

  A shock ran through Cressida’s entire body. She had defeated the Shadow Assemblage when she was just four. It had been a bloody battle but her magical powers were the most potent on the planet and she been able to destroy all six members of that horrible group. But now they were back!

  “It is a trap to lure you in,” said the butler. “You cannot go!”

  “I must,” said Cressida. “The emperor’s daughter is a close friend of mine and I cannot allow her to be harmed in any way. I will face the Shadow Assemblage head on and defeat them once again!”

  At those words the windows smashed open. The butler yelled in fear but Cressida turned to face the disturbance like the brave sorceress, fighter of evil, which she was. Emerging from the broken window was a swirling vortex of shadows, peppered with glaring green eyes and mouths full of sharp bloody teeth, snapping and screaming like the damned. The vortex charged towards Cressida. She leaped lithely to the side, shouting out the most powerful spell she could think of.

  “You will die, Cressida Widdershins!” the Shadow Assemblage shrieked as the spell tore them to pieces. All that left was a sliver of blackness, shivering on the floor, a single bloodshot eye frozen in terror.

  Cressida walked up to it and said, “Leave this place or face the consequences!”

  “Never!” it shrieked.

  Cressida, knowing she had no choice, blasted the remaining blot of darkness with a fireball. It exploded amid more shrieks of everlasting vengeance and then it was finally gone. Cressida sighed with relief and sat back at the table. She still hadn’t finished her breakfast.

  “What about the emperor’s daughter?” wondered the butler.

  “The phone call was a ruse to unsettle me,” said Cressida. “That way the Shadow Assemblage thought they could surprise me, but of course it backfired on them.”

  “What would the world do without you?” said the butler, who now appeared to be wholly Emily Swine. “You are the universe’s most powerful sorcerer!”

  Cressida blushed with embarrassment as the adoration continued. I truly am the best, she thought. The best of the best!

  Cressida woke up. She had to look around to make sure there wasn’t Emily standing there dressed up as a butler. That would’ve been scary. The dream lingered in her mind, and she suddenly wondered if she thought of herself as arrogant. It had certainly been an arrogant dream, but she supposed there was an element of truth to it now. She was a sorceress now after all. What she did with her powers was up to her.

  The moonlight shining in through the window was obscured for a second. It made her jump, but she figured it must be a cloud. She made herself comfortable in bed, closed her eyes, and tried to get back to sleep.

  “Cressida Widdershins,” a voice whispered.

  Cressida groaned. This was obviously one of those instances where you dreamed waking up but were still actually asleep. She hated it when that happened. She’d once dreamt that she’d woken up four hours late to find the headmaster of the school in her house, threatening to suspend her for playing truant, and that her father punched him and the police came to arrest him. When she finally did truly wake up she’d found it hard to figure out what was a dream and what was real.

  “I need to talk to you,” the voice whispered.

  She got out of bed, pushing the book further under the covers protectively. The curtains were open, so she could see outside; nothing but darkness. She walked further up to the window and looked out onto the garden and the very edge of Blackberry forest. There was nothing or no one there.

  “Hello?” she whispered. She felt very foolish, talking to what could be a remnant of a dream.

  A gust of wind rattled the window, but it didn’t frighten her. It was just wind. Wind couldn’t hurt her unless it was a mile high hurricane, and there were no magic storms or regular ones scheduled for tonight. Even all the snow had melted. In fact, looking at the trees and the way they didn’t sway told Cressida there wasn’t any wind in the air at all. So what had rattled the window?

  “Cressida Widdershins is a very whimsical name,” said the voice. “Did you know that the daughter of Prince Fatespore, the one that was killed and drove him to his life of wickedness, was called Cressida too?”

  “No,” she said.

  The voice didn’t belong to her mother, or Joe, or Emily. They could be using some sort of spell to hide their voice but she didn’t think so. Besides, how would they know what Fatespore’s daughter was called? None of them had even heard of him until today.

  “There was a reason the humans had to kill her,” said the voice. It sounded like it enjoyed telling a story. “She was a sorceress imbued with extremely dark magic. She would capture humans who had the magic gene and siphon off their powers into herself. The process would kill them; eventually. At one point she had a whole castle full of hundreds of humans, using them like batteries. The human world sent in a brave enchanter to kill her. He was infected with a virus that killed Princess Cressida when she absorbed his power.”

  She put the palm of her hand on the glass of the window, sure she could feel something. A hand appeared out of the night itself, darker than the night, and met hers, with only the glass separating them. She pulled away, frightened, but couldn’t keep her eyes away. There was something out there, a shadow. Not the shadow of a floating human or of a giant standing by the side of her house; just a shadow.

  “Are you one of the Shadow Assemblage?” she asked, voice quavering.

  “You’ve heard of us,” said the shadow. “Although I presume you don’t know everything about us. The amount we inform our subordinates is limited but just enough to cover some of the basics. Have you ever met a god before?”

  “I’ve been to church,” said Cressida.

  “Yet the great Rafreya has never once deigned to make an appearance, to prove to her precious followers that she actually exists?”

  “She exists,” said Cressida, defending her Goddess. “I believe in her.”

  “Good,” said the shadow, seeming pleased. “I like that you have faith. Would you like to know something; something that will rock your entire world?”

  Cressida knew she should just ignore him and hide under the covers and hum and hum until he went away or the dream, if it was a dream, finally ended. She was also a curious person and this former god seemed to have something important to tell her.

  “Go on,” she prompted. “Tell me.”

  “Rafreya is real,” said the shadow. “I have met her, talked to her even.”

  A light seemed to explode in Cressida’s heart. She was a moderately spiritual person. She believed in her Goddess and knew that when she died she would meet who she’d had faith in all her life. To have confirmation meant everything. Yet this was a being not to be trusted. She knew he was tormenting her in some way, but at the moment she wasn’t quite sure what he was playing at.

  “What did she say?” she asked.

  “Well, first we had to beg to be allowed to stay in this universe. We had to promise not to cause any trouble. We reluctantly agreed, even though we had been anticipating the time when sentient life came along and we could torture them. We were in weakened, almost powerless states so we had no choice but to go along with her wishes. She could’ve crushed us with the simple blink of an eyelid.

  “That was one of many times the Shadow Assemblage crossed paths with Rafreya. Our last was thousands of years ago. I’ll remember that day like it was yesterday. She was very angry if I recall. Poor thing; anger does not loo
k good on her. It makes her face go all red and bloated.”

  Cressida imagined what it would be like to meet a supreme being (excluding this one, anyway). What could she say to someone like Rafreya, someone who would know everything? She could give her a bunch of flowers or bake her a cake. None of those seemed suitable, though. Just what did you give a Goddess?

  “I know your name so it’s only fair I give you mine. My name is Phobos,” said the shadow, moving around outside the window. Cressida could discern its shape now, faintly man-like but slightly enlarged. The shadow continued. “I am here to make you an offer.”

  “You want to kill me,” said Cressida.

  “Indeed, the only way to separate you from the book is to kill you,” said Phobos, his voice a hideous parody of concern. “After you are dead my chosen host for the book will bring you back to life. After that you must promise not to interfere in anything I or my colleagues plan ever again.”

  Cressida couldn’t help but giggle. They expected her to commit suicide, sacrifice herself, on the say-so that they’d resurrect her afterwards? They must think she was totally mad! She wouldn’t make that deal with somebody she trusted never mind some shadow of a god who was pure evil. Had this shadow really come all the way to her house to ask her this? Was he that stupid to think she would accept?

  “I could come in there and tear that mocking head right off your skinny body,” snarled Phobos. His fury was all encompassing, terrifying.

  “Do it,” she goaded him. “I dare you.”

  The shadowy hand mock punched the window, and a shower of sparks lit up Phobos like a torch was shone upon him. He screamed and Cressida smiled and stood in front of the window, arms crossed in defiance.

  “You can’t, can you?” she said. “My parents have put layer upon layer of protective spells around this house. While I’m in here you can’t touch me.”

  “You have to come out eventually.”

  “So why didn’t you just kill me earlier instead of sending someone else to do the job?” Cressida thought this through logically. “You can’t do that either, can you? If you could kill me to get the book you would have done it already.”