Between the Shade and the Shadow

by Coleman Alexander

  What do you think it is? she conveyed to Losna, peering towards the woods. The mist was turning to a light rain.

  Losna sniffed at the air. I don’t know.

  It could know what happened here, Ahraia thought.

  Losna growled. Or it could be what happened here . . .

  Ahraia put her hand to the knife at her hip, wishing she still carried a bow. She probed out with her mind and felt a fleeting sense of fear and worry.

  It’s human, Ahraia realized, brushing against its mind. It startled, as though it had felt her mind probing it, and Ahraia heard branches breaking and movement away in the woods.

  It must know what happened, come on. Ahraia was already running for the woods.

  Ahraia! Stop, Losna thought, distraught. Have you gone mad? It could be dangerous!

  So are we, Ahraia thought.

  9

  Lightwalker

  Ahraia entered the woods with her skin still ablaze from all the light. She pulled down the veil and pushed back her hood, eager to be rid of them. She paused, letting her eyes re-adjust to the comforting dark.

  Where is it? she conveyed, scanning the woods for the human. The canopy above shielded them from the mist, and the understory was still mostly dry.

  You’re sure it was human? Losna sniffed, worried that something more sinister might be roaming the woods. A shiver of uncertainty ran through Ahraia.

  It felt human, she conveyed, wondering if she was being tricked. Her brief brush against their quarry’s mind hadn’t felt anything like the night before: there was no menace, no waiting evil—no lingering death. She had only felt fear and the desire to be hidden.

  But now, she sensed nothing at all.

  Can humans ward off bondings or bindings? Losna asked.

  Ahraia shrugged, proceeding warily into the tangled forest, searching with her mind and eyes and ears. Losna’s gaze darted to and fro, and her body was tensed and ready to spring. She raised her nose, hunting after any signs of danger.

  It couldn’t be far, Ahraia conveyed, pausing to listen. The rain was soaking through the forest, falling in sporadic drops. Muted pops and snarls came from the fires in the meadow.

  I’ve got the scent! Losna thought, sniffing through the underbrush. It’s human. And it reeks. She huffed in disgust and shook her head. This way . . .

  Ahraia followed, relieved it was only a human. She parted each leaf and branch, keeping her eyes up. Wherever the human was, it was silent. No footsteps. No breaking branches.

  It has to be close. It must be hiding, Ahraia conveyed, listening to quiet sniffs coming from Losna. Maybe it’s—

  Crack!

  A flash of searing light suddenly burst through the woods. The air split as though lightning had sprung unbidden from a single point, spinning Ahraia to the ground. She yelped in terror.

  What was that? Losna whimpered, crawling closer to Ahraia.

  The light faded to blinding dark. Ahraia squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face, but heard familiar shouts rising through the woods.

  The shades! she thought fearfully. Hayvon! She risked a glance up and saw total dark had returned. Eyes still bursting with light, she lunged from the ground and took off sprinting through the woods, heedless of the noise she stirred up. Losna leapt after her, sending a flurry of warnings through the night. Ahraia ignored them. She spun branches out of her way and burst through a thicket, tumbled over a small rise and nearly fell on top of the shades, who huddled in terror beneath the undergrowth.

  “Where have you been!” Tev shouted, with light-speckling seared across her cheeks. Shim stood next to her, wheezing. He rifled through his clutch for an arrow with his free hand, his bow already poised in the other.

  “Where’s Hayvon?” Ahraia asked sharply. She searched the woods but saw no sign of her brother or the light’s source.

  “We’ve been seen!” Tev said hysterically.

  “Quiet,” Ahraia ordered, her mind racing. Seen by the human?

  “Mother’s going to give us to the Shad-Mon—”

  “You aren’t going to be condemned,” Ahraia snapped. “Get a hold of yourself.” She inflected a binding inside her words, forcing calm over the shade. Tev’s body seized, and she squeezed her shadow so tight that Ahraia expected the squirrel was crushed.

  “What happened?” Ahraia demanded, turning to Shim. “What was that light?”

  “We were seen!” he said. The markings on his face were flared but fading. “By a human. It just came creeping through the woods. It almost ran straight into us. We thought it was you—’

  Tev’s thoughts burst out, muddled and panicked. The human saw us . . . she saw us . . . Mother’s going to kill us . . .

  Ahraia blocked her out.

  Shim carried on aloud, just as hysterical, “But then we saw it wasn’t you, it was a human. And it shouted something and there was a terrible flash of light and then it was gone.” He fell quiet, looking terrified and guilty.

  “We have to catch it,” Ahraia said, more to Losna than to the shades.

  “Mother’s going to condemn us, isn’t she?” Shim added, fully aware of what it meant if it was discovered that they had been seen.

  There’s no reason she ever needs to know, Ahraia conveyed firmly to the shades. She doubted that either of them could hide it from the Astra or her father. Even their barest guilt would bleed through the simplest of bondings. It would be plain as day for the sprites to see. She drew a deep breath, forcing calm over herself. “Which way did Hayvon go?”

  “That way . . .” Shim said, looking guilty. He pointed off through the woods with an arrow.

  “I don’t want to die . . .,” Tev whimpered.

  Ahraia squared herself towards Shim. “You’re going to have to stay here with Tev.” Wait for us. “No matter what happens, you weren’t seen. Get Tev to understand that.” You. Were. Not. Seen. “You won’t be condemned if you can convince yourself of that, understood?”

  He nodded, his ears tucked tight to his white hair, frightened and guilty.

  “Make her understand,” Ahraia said. Tev had dissolved into a mess of tears. “Come on Losna.” Find Hayvon for me.

  Losna leapt from the hollow like a silver-flecked arrow shot through the fading night. Ahraia raced after her, trying to unravel what they should do when they caught the human. Spritish rule dictated they kill it, but she had no intention of killing this one—especially if this one could answer what had happened at the Stone Tree. Maybe it knew about the orb, or her brothers. She needed to catch it before Hayvon did.

  Don’t kill it, she thought to Losna.

  Ahraia sprinted after her shadow, leaping over fallen logs and through narrow seems in the forest. She sprang over a silent brook, binding a fir branch to propel her over the dark water. Losna splashed across below her, sniffing at the far bank until she found the scent and loped into the underbrush.

  They climbed a short hill and ran the length of a ridge.

  Something’s up ahead, Losna thought, no longer bothering with the scent as she bound forward. Ahraia looked up and saw Hayvon; he was limping heavily. There was something else ahead of him, crashing through the forest blindly.

  The human!

  Ahraia wondered if a binding would subdue it. She would have to stay Hayvon; he would insist on killing it. Losna caught up with him. He flinched at her sudden appearance and then glanced back at Ahraia.

  We were seen! There’s a human up ahead! he conveyed in distress. His right leg dragged with every step as though he had been stabbed.

  What happened to you? she conveyed, alarmed to see blood staining his cloak.

  Shim—that little bastard—got startled and damn near killed me with an arrow!

  The human disappeared out of sight. The rain began to fall in earnest, dripping in fat, spattering drops from the forest above.

  “We can’t let it get away!” he said aloud.

  I’ll get it, Ahraia conveyed to him, not bothering to explain she had no intention of k
illing it. Losna disappeared ahead of her, gaining on the human, but it was still beyond the reach of a binding. It led them down a long hill, through a narrow ravine and out into the open woods, where it stood no chance of outrunning Losna.

  Careful! Ahraia conveyed.

  Losna was gaining on their quarry. She hardly noticed Ahraia’s warning, her mind reduced to a single instinct: Catch.

  Ahraia sprinted after them both, her legs and lungs burning. Branches scraped across her face and leaves scattered beneath her feet.

  Losna closed in on the human. In a single, enormous leap, she brought it tumbling to the ground and came up snarling, with ears pinned back and tail low. Her teeth shone long and white and terrifying.

  The human rolled to her feet and froze, facing off with Losna. Her hesitation gave Ahraia the opening she needed—she closed the distance to the human, reached out with her mind and bound it with a forceful enchantment.

  Be still, she commanded, leaping over a log and drawing her drain. She over-projected the thought, causing her own feet to falter below her. She stumbled forward, but the binding anchored the lightwalker firmly to the ground.

  The human was a she—a fiery-haired girl—taller than Ahraia, with speckled markings beneath her eyes, almost like the spatter of light-scars beneath Ahraia’s. Fear reflected through the binding, but it was hardly the only emotion the girl harbored. Her thoughts were instinctive, like Losna’s, and she struggled against the enchantment. Fight. Escape. Break free.

  Stop! Ahraia commanded, bringing the girl’s intentions to a halt. The human stilled. Her breaths shivered through half-bared teeth, and her eyes darted between Losna and Ahraia.

  I’m not going to hurt you, Ahraia projected.

  The thought had the opposite effect—the girl struggled harder to get away.

  “Don’t move,” Ahraia said.

  The girl reached for something at her hip.

  I said stop. Ahraia mustered the full strength of her binding, assuming a blade or some other weapon lay at the girl’s side. Losna prowled forward and growled, a cavernous and hostile threat. Her snout bared back, showing every one of her long, white teeth.

  The girl’s resistance faltered, and then failed. Fear stilled her hand and she stopped struggling to break free. Ahraia waited a moment, delaying to make sure it wasn’t some human ruse, luring her into complacency.

  “What happened in the meadow?” she mirrored for the girl to understand, softening the binding to let her speak.

  The girl gasped, her surprise giving way to anger. “What happened? You happened!”

  Confused, Ahraia ignored her, distracted by something glowing at her side. It shone through the thick, sheep-reeking cloth of the girl’s cloak as a brilliant point of light.

  “What’s that?” Ahraia said, pointing. Is that the orb? she conveyed to Losna.

  The girl looked down, stunned. “Is this it? Is this what you were after? All of that for a little ball of light? I knew I should never have touched it. Those people were innocent. They were good people,” she said, letting out an angry sob, more a growl than a cry. Hate and anger radiated through the enchantment.

  “I already told you, we had nothing to do with it,” Ahraia said.

  “Didn’t have anything to do with it!” the human scoffed. “Of course you did. Now let me go, elf.”

  Ahraia’s eyes returned to the point of light at the girl’s hip. “Where did you get that?”

  “I found it. In the ruins of the holdfast.”

  The Stone Tree? “What about the bodies? What did you do with my brothers?” Did you burn them? Ahraia thought unnerved.

  “What bodies?”

  My brothers. “They were lying there, in the Stone Tree, in the . . . holdfast,” Ahraia said, using the girl’s own word.

  The girl glowered at Ahraia, confused. “I don’t know what you're talking about. The holdfast was empty. I just found the stone and took it.”

  “It’s not a stone—” Ahraia stopped, sensing movement throughout the woods. She glanced sideways and saw Hayvon, but her ears twitched and her heart froze; he wasn’t alone. The woods surged with the conveyance of a dozen sprites following behind him, unseen yet, but spreading and closing in.

  Keep her bound! Hayvon conveyed, closer than the rest.

  The human’s desperation reflected in a horrifyingly familiar way; Ahraia knew all too well the terror of being held paralyzed before certain death. That fear reverberated deep within her. You have to run, she conveyed without thinking. In that moment of pause, the enchantment slipped, and suddenly the girl renewed her struggle. Ahraia couldn’t keep her bound, unwilling to be the wraith holding her. The girl reached into her pocket and the next moment, the forest burst with brilliant, blatant light. Ahraia screamed and spun to the ground, hiding her face.

  Cover that! she commanded. The orb pulsed, swollen with too much light. Her order brought the human’s hand in front of it, but the girl’s voice rang out powerfully through the night.

  “Light!” she shouted.

  Crack!

  For the second time, the forest split asunder. Dazzling, white-hot light shot out from the orb. Ahraia heard something snap, and heard sprites calling out in dismay. Losna whined in despair, leaping over Ahraia to try and shield her from the searing light. Ahraia tried to look up, covering her face with her arm. Her skin felt hot and charred, and her enchantment suddenly stretched thin, strained by distance; the human was running.

  The orb! Ahraia thought. Drop it!

  The orb slipped to the tip of the girl’s fingers but she resisted as the last vestiges of the binding disintegrated. She kept hold, and kept running, crashing through the woods away from Ahraia, still clutching the orb as it spilled dying light into the forest.

  “What was that?” A sprite called out. Was that a human?

  “It’s getting away!” Hayvon said desperately.

  She has our orb! Ahraia thought in dismay.

  Losna was ready to leap after the girl. Should I go after it?

  No! Ahraia conveyed, her skin still tingling from the blistering light. It’s too dangerous.

  “Shade Ahraia. Shade Hayvon! Get over here!” Ahraia recognized her father’s voice before she lifted her head. Her eyes slowly came back into focus, though her skin felt singed.

  “That was a human—these shades have been seen,” one of the sprites said loudly.

  “None of us were seen,” Ahraia said, terrified that they had just lost the orb. “We were stalking it . . .” The rain made everything a blur and the sprites had been far enough away that she thought the lie might hold.

  Gavea, the same nitesse who had accompanied the Astra the night before, flicked her ears once disapprovingly. Ever since she was a shade, she had resented Ahraia for bringing home a stronger shadow, and at the moment, she bore an impish glint in her eyes. “Shades aren’t supposed to speak aloud, and they are definitely not supposed to stalk lightwalkers.”

  “Where are my shades? And what was that light—” her father started.

  “Not seen?” Gavea held up a hand, her eyes boring into Hayvon. He wouldn’t meet her gaze and instead clutched at his leg where the arrow had struck him. But after a moment Gavea spoke quietly, and confidently. “That was a human. And these shades were seen. Levath, Tallin, with me. The rest of you with Lecke, make sure it doesn’t get away. Bring it to me, alive.”

  A half dozen sprites and wards hurried off after the human. Ahraia’s throat tightened.

  Hayvon looked stricken. That’s not true. Ahraia wasn’t seen, he conveyed, his thoughts fumbling over themselves to get out.

  He looked ashamed and frightened, and in that moment, Ahraia knew that Gavea had already pressed the truth from him. His eyes turned towards Ahraia, giving her a guilt-ridden look. She knows, he conveyed as a whisper. His jaw clenched and Ahraia watched in horror as his hesitation gave way to his voice.

  “She wasn’t seen,” he said determinedly, “I was.”

  The remaining spri
tes’ ears stood sharply in surprise.

  Hayvon! What are you doing? Ahraia conveyed to him. Have you gone mad?

  “Are you admitting you were seen?” their father asked.

  Just stay quiet, Ahraia conveyed frantically. Admitting to being seen was condemnable; shades and sprites had been given to the Shad-Mon for less. A muscle twitched in Ahraia’s father’s jaw.

  “Then Hayvon, your shadow is forfeit,” he said, stepping forward and drawing his drain. The small, silver blade glimmered violently even in the dark. Ahraia flushed with fear and saw Vesta duck deeper into Hayvon’s pocket. She stepped between them, holding up her hands.

  “We weren’t seen, I don’t know what Hayvon is saying. He must be light-sick,” she said quickly. “None of us were seen. Your shades are back in the forest, safe,” she added, hoping to distract the conversation back to her father’s question.

  Stay out of this, her father conveyed.

  “But he wasn’t seen!” Ahraia said more firmly.

  Gavea’s ears flickered in warning. She stepped towards Ahraia, her hood pulled back just enough to show her ears.

  “I could swear as I came over that hill you were face to face with it,” she said with dangerous calm.

  The forest dripped and shook with rain, but every remaining sprite stood perfectly motionless.

  Careful, Losna warned. Her ears lay flat and her lips pulled back just enough to show her long teeth. Her father shot her a warning glance but she ignored it.

  Our nit’s orb was stolen, Ahraia conveyed cautiously, neither a lie nor entirely an answer.

  “But it saw you?” Gavea pressed.

  No— Ahraia started, the lie sitting right at the forefront of her thought.

  Silence! Her father ordered her, even as he spoke aloud to cover his own conveyance. “Hayvon’s already admitted to it,” he said dismissively. Gavea glared at Ahraia but didn’t force the point.

  “That was the light talking,” Ahraia said. “You can’t condemn him on words alone.”

  “Can I not?” he answered aggressively.