Shadow

by David L Dawson

  “Have you had breakfast? Good. Then sit down.”

  Cressida wanted to argue, wanted to tell her mother about her little visitor last night, but her strength waned in the face of Emily’s determination. Her mother had given her a notebook and pencil and Emily was busy scribbling her name on the blackboard with chalk. It was like a nightmare version of school, taught by her worst enemy, her own life on the line if she failed. She absolutely hated it.

  “We’ll start with the basics,” Emily announced. Cressida burst into sudden hysterical laughter and Emily’s sharp eyes swiveled on her.

  “What is so funny?” she demanded.

  “I’m being taught by you,” Cressida said, still laughing. “It’s just so bizarre.”

  Emily sighed. “Grow up, Cressida.”

  Martin gave her what she imagined was an amused wink.

  Emily wiped off her name on the board with an eraser, and wrote down the words; “Hello, my name is…” in modern Pangaean. Underneath that she jotted down several symbols in ancient Elvish, presumably their translation. Cressida dutifully wrote down everything. For now it didn’t make much sense to her. Hopefully that would change. Miss Weber had thought she wasn’t clever enough to master a foreign language. I’ll show her what I can do, she thought.

  Four hours passed in what Cressida could only describe as terminal tedium. Emily was the bossiest, strictest teacher she had ever had. She would snap at her for making a simple mistake; she would make her write things down on the board in triplicate to make her remember, and she wouldn’t let her have a ten minute break when Cressida demanded she be fed before she passed out. She was starting to think that maybe a horrible death at the hands of the Shadow Assemblage was more preferable than this.

  As the others filed into the kitchen to make something to eat Cressida had a flick through her notebook. She had filled up twenty pages already with words and phrases, none of which she knew yesterday. She read through them all twice, saying the ancient Elvish words inside her head, making sure the pronunciation was perfect. Emily had said an incorrect pronunciation would corrupt any spell she tried to make.

  Emily sat down next to her as she repeated words in her head, her lips moving along with it. She knew she was getting them right and it was hard, very hard, but she suddenly realized she could do this.

  “How am I doing?” Cressida asked, closing her notebook.

  “You’re doing remarkably well for someone who almost fails all her subjects at school,” said Emily. “You can take that as a compliment.”

  “Thank you,” said Cressida in ancient Elvish.

  Eyes as cold and merciless as the icecaps themselves regarded Cressida with fearful resignation. Emily was annoyed.

  “What did I do wrong?” Cressida asked.

  “You pronounced it wrong,” Emily moaned. “If you said that to an Elf in ancient times they’d cut your arms off and lock you in a box for a week. Really, Cressida, I thought you were doing so well too. Pronunciation is the key here.”

  “I’m trying!” Cressida protested. She really thought she had said it right, and wanted to tell Emily off for being so difficult. She began to think, though, and realized that maybe Emily was right. She had pronounced it wrong.

  “You’re not trying hard enough,” said Emily. “I wish Lichen were here. Maybe he could get you to learn quicker.”

  Cressida pulled her hand through her hair, determined not to push Emily too far. The girl had lost her guardian and was very prickly at the moment. Even so…

  “I knew this was going to be hard,” Cressida admitted. “I really am trying my best. It’s just that…you know I’m not very good at languages. You’re in my Parisian class.”

  Emily smiled and said, “I’ve never heard anyone mangle such a beautiful language before. Thank you for giving me something to laugh about.”

  Cressida gritted her teeth. “You’re welcome.” She concentrated fully, and thought back on what she’d learned. “Thank you,” she said in ancient Elvish.

  “That’s better,” said Emily, as if praising a particularly obedient dog. “Now find someone to practice with. You have an hour before lessons start.”

  “What about lunch?” asked Cressida.

  “You can eat at the same time,” said Emily.

  “I bet Lichen wasn’t such a pain,” Cressida mumbled.

  Emily burst into tears. “Lichen was a patient teacher! True, we only had an hour’s lesson every day for the past three years but he was a good teacher, and he chose me! Out of all the people he knew he chose me to teach!”

  “Lichen was probably the one who taught Mr. Blueoak,” said Cressida. “So he probably worked for the Shadow Assemblage.”

  Emily appeared horrified by this thought. It’s true that Blueoak could have taught Lichen, not the other way around, but Cressida didn’t think so. Blueoak was much younger than the Elf for a start.

  “Lichen probably taught him as a child,” wailed Emily, and Cressida wished she hadn’t brought the man up if she was going to cry again. “How was he supposed to know how he’d grow up? This was probably why they killed him, so he couldn’t teach anyone else. If they knew about me then…”

  “You’ll be safe in here,” Cressida assured her. She remembered some of the things Phobos had told her early this morning, that he had another host ready to take the book off her. It had to be someone who knew ancient Elvish. “Are you quite sure that Lichen wasn’t teaching anybody else ancient Elvish?”

  “When would he have time?” said Emily. “When he wasn’t teaching me ancient Elvish or tutoring me in Elf surgery he was a doctor at the local hospital.”

  This meant one of two things. Either Mr. Blueoak himself had taught this mysterious other the language himself, which she didn’t think likely as Blueoak seemed the impatient type to her, or there was another out there, someone not even her mom’s friend at the university had known about.

  “Never mind,” said Cressida. “You get something to eat. You look starving.”

  “Really?” said Emily, a huge grin on her face. “I’ve been on a diet lately. You eat grass for breakfast and lunch and a healthy meal for dinner. Grass is good for you!”

  “The cows seem to like it,” said Cressida.

  The afternoon’s lesson consisted of learning words that were frequented in the book, such as summon, blood and magic. She all got these fairly easy enough, but remembering the actual symbols for the words was more difficult. Emily assured her that repetition was the key to saving the details in your brain and so she made her draw the same letters over and over again until they were imprinted on her mind.

  This carried on until two in the afternoon and by then Cressida was pretty much exhausted. Martin and the cat were asleep, and Cressida wasn’t far behind in joining them. Cressida was only hanging on because she was used to such things, being at school every day.

  “What does this character mean?” Cressida asked. She had drawn it on the cluttered blackboard, and it was in the bottom left hand corner. Cressida didn’t know, so Emily gave a disappointed groan.

  “It means spirit,” said Emily. “Can you remember that? Spirit!”

  Cressida wrote it down, and then jumped out of her skin when there was a knock at the door. Cressida was the first to stand up, joining her mother and Joe, who had emerged from the kitchen, to see who it was. She could tell by the wary glances they were all giving her; was it the Shadow Assemblage? Or was it some assassin sent to kill her?

  “Stay behind me at all times,” Ginger demanded.

  “Mom?” said Cressida. “I’m scared.”

  Chapter 14 – Who’s There?

  “I know you’re in there!” a voice shouted from outside. “I heard you talking!”

  “That’s Grandpa Bram,” said Corona/Joe, pulling the recognition of the voice from Joe’s memory. “What’s he doing here?”

  “It could be a trick!” said Emily, trembling. “They could be pretending to be this Bram person so you open the door to them
and bang you have no head anymore!”

  Emily hid behind the blackboard, twiddling her fingers. “What if they do to me what they did to Lichen? I don’t want to be a plant!”

  Neither do I, Cressida thought.

  “Would an assassin really knock on the door?” said Cressida.

  “A really clever one might,” said Emily.

  Cressida couldn’t cope with Emily’s histrionics any more so she just walked up to the door and opened it. It was indeed Grandpa Bram, a thunderous mood caught on his face, his stance that of someone on a mission. She knew Bram well and nothing could really rile him up but today he looked fit to burst.

  “Where’s Joe?” he demanded.

  “I’m here,” called Corona/Joe. “Grandpa, what’s up?”

  Bram stomped past Cressida and into the living room. He gave all the people, animals and blackboard there a cursory glance before turning his ire onto Joe.

  “The school secretary phoned me up to ask how you were,” Grandpa Bram explained. “Apparently you’ve been off with the flu for two days, which is strange as I haven’t seen you in two days either! I should never have let you stay over for so long. Ginger, why aren’t you making sure he goes to school?”

  “Maybe we should talk in the kitchen,” proposed Ginger.

  “If you think you’re going to fob me off with…”

  “In the kitchen!”

  “Fine,” he said.

  The lesson continued while Ginger spoke quietly to Bram in the kitchen. Cressida wondered if he was being told the truth or not. This was not something she had anticipated, Joe’s Grandpa Bram turning up like this. Maybe he deserved to know what danger his grandson was in. Bram himself could be in peril too. Should he be staying in the house as well, just to be on the safe side?

  Ten minutes later, after a brief interruption with the arrival of Miss Weber and Seth, arriving to see what Bram wanted, Bram halted the lesson once again with a loud shush. He gave each of them a look, including a particularly long one for Emily, and leaned over and gave Joe a hug. Corona wasn’t familiar with this but it felt good. The irie didn’t do hugs and kisses and pats on the back.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that Ginger has been giving you extra lessons on her days off?” he asked Joe. “I would’ve understood, really.”

  Corona had no idea what to say. She wasn’t the sort of on the spot spontaneous liar like the others in this room but she knew she had to be if she was to remain hidden. What do I say back, she wondered. What do I say?

  “I wanted you to be proud of me,” said Corona/Joe, delving into Joe’s memories once again. “I hadn’t been doing that good at magic and I asked Ginger for help. I figured a few days away from my other subjects wouldn’t hurt.”

  “I like that you’re taking your studies seriously but try not to take too much time away from your other subjects,” said Bram. “They’re important too.”

  “This is the last day,” said Corona/Joe. “I promise.”

  “Good,” said Bram. “Perhaps Ginger would be willing to give you extra tuition on the odd weeknight or weekend?”

  “Good idea!” Ginger declared.

  With the matter settled, and the lie seemingly taken in by Bram with ease, Cressida started to feel very uneasy. The Shadow Assemblage could use Bram to get to her or Joe. They could kidnap him, hurt him or do something even worse. He was an old man and he wasn’t as quick off the mark with his spell casting as he used to be. Why did I never think of him before now? I have to tell him the truth!

  “Bram!” she shouted, just as he was reaching the door. “We haven’t told you the truth and you need to know!”

  He looked at her curiously. “What do you mean?”

  “Grandpa Bram is a part of this now just by being related to Joe,” said Cressida, looking from her best friend to her mom. “What if he was captured and I was forced to give myself up to save him? Or what if Bram was hurt just to make me take the deal that Phobos offered me?”

  Ginger cleared her throat. “Who’s Phobos?”

  “Oh, right, I never told you about that, did I?” Cressida felt embarrassed, and then continued. “Phobos is a member of the Shadow Assemblage. He came up to my window last night. Don’t worry, he couldn’t get in. He told me that if I gave myself up they’d kill me to get the book and then bring me back to life again once it was bonded to another host.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Ginger blazed. “I thought I felt something last night in my dreams, something dark and evil. It must have been him.”

  Miss Weber said, “I dreamt of shadows and claws and horrible laughing.”

  “Me too,” said Seth. “It was awful.”

  Corona/Joe nodded that he had suffered from similar nightmares. Corona had felt the presence of this Phobos like a feather tickling the back of her neck, or some creature glimpsed in the corner of her eye. It made her shiver just thinking about it. Martin the wolf whined, and Corona feared that even he hadn’t been immune.

  “I’ve heard of the Shadow Assemblage,” said Bram. “I didn’t think they were real, though. I think I would’ve believed pandas existed before the Shadow Assemblage.”

  Corona/Joe sniggered. “Pandas, as if!”

  For the thousandth time Cressida was forced to explain her story, this time to an incredulous and quite furious looking Bram. She figured it would be easier if she just wrote it down and then handed it to the next person to be sucked into this little adventure. It would save her from getting a sore throat at any rate.

  Chapter 15 – Hunt for the Crystals

  The storeroom was dark, shadowy. Crates full of crystals were heaped up high and in huge quantities. Abe could smell rats but he ignored it. He opened the nearest crate and pulled out a red crystal. It lit up his hands and face like he was holding onto pure light.

  “I think I’ll need quite a few,” he mumbled, shoving several in his pockets.

  He didn’t think the Shadow Assemblage would mind him borrowing a few. He’d known about this collection for a while. It bothered him now that he’d never questioned why they needed so many. What did they need with thousands, maybe millions, of the crystals? He looked at some writing stamped on one of the crates; the date indicated it was from two hundred years ago and appeared to be stolen from a museum.

  “They’re so beautiful,” said Aubra.

  A startled Abe almost dropped the crystals in his hands. Aubra was standing behind him, enveloped in the light from the open box of crystals. She almost looked beautiful.

  “What are they all for?” he asked.

  “Don’t be so nosy,” Aubra chided him. “They have a purpose, that’s all you need to know for now.”

  She swiped her shadowy hand at him, forcing him to drop what he held in his hands. Her touch was enough to make him shiver.

  “We need every one,” she said. “Find what you need some place else.”

  “If we don’t get the girl with the book then…”

  “You’re smart,” she said, loathing admitting it. “You will find a way.”

  Aubra’s form shifted into the dark and was gone. He began to think up ways to find the crystals he needed for the job at hand. He had one at home that much he was certain of. Yet he needed more. Where could he find them? The Shadow Assemblage appeared to have them all.

  The window dissolved, the glass falling away into nothing. There were no protective spells around this building and Abe was glad. He would have to do something about that in the future. Anybody could break in and there were a lot more dangerous people in the world than himself. He wanted Grace protected more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.

  It had only been an hour ago when Abe realized where he could procure some of the crystals he needed for his plan of action. At the time he’d been feeling groggy through love and the thrashing Miss Weber had given him and so had only noticed them out of the corner of his eye. However, Grace had in her bedroom a one-foot tall purple crystal planted on a wooden base. That would do him nicel
y.

  He grasped the crystal, sending a spell slithering through it that splintered it into eight pieces. He’d piece the sculpture back together and return it before she even knew it was missing. By then his work would be over and Cressida would be dead.

  Two more days passed. At night Cressida could only dream about ancient Elvish symbols. They would just float around in her head, half obscured by mist, and she would have to blow the mist away with her breath to be able to reach them. Still, she knew what they were and was confident she would remember them. Emily had gotten through to her. Maybe she wasn’t fluent as of yet but she was learning fast.

  Grandpa Bram was staying with them now. Miss Weber, Seth and the triplets had escorted him home on the sky platform to fetch some clothes, and some extra food to keep them going, and he was now firmly ensconced in her home. Cressida would’ve never been able to forgive herself if he’d been injured because they’d kept him in the dark.

  It was two days of learning for all of them. While Cressida and Emily had their lessons Ginger and Bram spent all their time putting up hundreds more protective spells around the house. If Phobos hadn’t been able to get in before he would have no chance now. Ginger was relatively sure they were safe.

  “Can you repeat that?” Emily asked.

  Cressida looked down at her notes. She had almost used up an entire notepad with her squiggly writing. She looked at what she’d just written down and repeated it to Emily, who smiled.

  “Very good,” said Emily. “Your pronunciation is getting better.”

  “Good,” said Cressida, beaming.

  “Although it’s not brilliant,” Emily added.

  “I can’t be excellent all the time.”

  Emily sighed. “No, I suppose not.”

  Cressida wasn’t entirely sure that was a compliment or not. She decided to take it as one. It made her feel better and if she felt annoyed it would hamper things. All in all today’s lessons had been quite successful. She did feel a bit envious, though. Joe, her mom and Grandpa Bram were in the kitchen doing real magic, proper spells. Cressida had the feeling she was missing out on something. Did she know enough to defend herself magically?