Where Shadows Lie

by Kim Stokely

  “I have seen you, you know.” Ceallach took a step toward me. “In my dreams.”

  “So you said,” I mumbled.

  He loomed over me. “Do you wish to know what I saw?”

  “Not really.” I tried to be cocky so he wouldn’t see how scared I was.

  “You rode upon a silver horse. Ten thousand soldiers stood armed for battle behind you.”

  I rubbed my fingers in circles along my temples.

  “Do you want to know who you faced?”

  “Again, not really.”

  “An army of the Fallen ten times that of yours. Demons from the abyss that no earthly weapons can destroy.” His voice softened. “You are doomed, daughter of Etain.”

  I looked up at him. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

  The door opened. Sigal glided inside. I marveled at how someone so physically strong and evil could move with the grace of a ballet dancer. She carried a satchel over her shoulder.

  Ceallach gave the Portal a quick nod. “I’ll leave you to your work.”

  The red-haired man exited, closing the door behind him. Something scraped along the other side before stopping with a thunk. I figured I’d been locked in.

  Sigal lowered her leather bag to the floor then pulled something out. She let the cloth that covered it fall open. The Chrysaline glowed purple in her hand. My muscles reacted instinctively, remembering the pain the smaller Elderstone had caused them. I ran to the farthest corner of the room.

  The Portal chuckled. The blue glow from the orb reflected off her pale face, making her appear like a ghoul. Her violet eyes looked black and soulless. The orb crackled, buzzing in her hand as if she’d flicked a switch and electricity flowed through it. She lifted her gaze from the Chrysaline to my face. “If you resist, the pain will be excruciating.” She frowned. “It may even kill you. But neither of us want that to happen, do we, Alystrine?”

  I tried to reach out with my mind, to find a passage to take me anywhere within the building, but Ceallach had been telling the truth. It was as if an invisible dam blocked any currents of air.

  Sigal took a step toward me. “Do not fight it. Look into the orb and let it have your thoughts.”

  I turned my head away as a blue bolt of light arced toward me. My muscles went rigid. Searing heat attacked every nerve in my body. Every thought fled from my mind except that of pain. It consumed me. Wave upon wave of stabbing, concentrated agony washed over me.

  At last it stopped, but my body convulsed as if the energy still travelled through it. Sigal waited until the spasms stopped before she crouched next to me. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  I snorted out a laugh instead of the tears I wanted to cry. “Bull.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe me?”

  I forced myself to sit up. “It’s in your eyes.”

  “What is?”

  “The pleasure you take in hurting people.” I gasped through the fiery pain still coursing through my nerves. “You’re like those kids on the playground who liked to burn ants with magnifying glasses.” I panted. “What’s in this for you?”

  “To fail Lord Braedon is to endanger one’s life.”

  I remembered Braedon’s threats to Malina when I was dying of an infection. I also remembered his promises of wealth when she cured me. “What do you get?”

  The Portal shook her head but I’d seen something flash across her face. She knew her prize. I’d never actually read a person’s thoughts before. Quinn and Kyran just kind of put theirs into my brain, but I stared at Sigal and pushed my mind out toward hers. For a moment, nothing registered. Then with almost an audible click, an image of Braedon’s face emerged. He had a satisfied smile as he grabbed my hand and pulled me next to him. I wore a gold crown and low cut gown. Sigal stood on his other side, wearing some kind of battle armor. She placed her hand on his shoulder.

  I gagged and pulled myself out of the vision. “You can’t be serious.”

  The Portal’s eyes were wide. “A Thought Reader, too?”

  I slid up the wall. “If you want him, you can have him. I won’t stop you.”

  “I have no desire for him, foolish girl. I want the power only he can give me.” Her eyes took on a sadistic light. “If you are broken, I will be put in command of the Mystic army. I will be second only to Braedon over all this world.”

  Wasn’t it enough Braedon had already stolen my life in the other world from me? That our wretched betrothal meant Tegan and I could never be together? Did he have to take my mind, too? I vowed in my anger that he would never turn me into a mindless drone.

  Sigal thrust the Chrysaline forward. Blue light spurted from it.

  I raised my hands out in an attempt to block the pain I knew was coming. “No!” The light sizzled and crackled around my fingers but didn’t shoot through my body. It was as if I’d taken hold of all the rage inside me and turned it into a shield. Sigal’s face contorted with frustration. She took a step closer but the bolts of electricity bounced off the invisible wall I’d somehow managed to put up.

  I harnessed the remaining anger boiling in my brain. The energy dancing around my fingertips clustered together to form a ball. I concentrated all my thoughts on the sphere and envisioned myself throwing it at the Portal. Let her get a taste of her own medicine. It flew from my hands straight into Sigal’s chest. Her body jerked upward. The bolts of light ceased to flow from the Chrysaline as it fell from her grasp onto the wool rug. I thought that would extinguish the blue flames circling her.

  It didn’t.

  Her feet sputtered over the floor in an awkward dance as the energy surged through her body.

  “Oh God, make it stop,” I cried out. “Please make it stop!”

  Her silent scream echoed in my mind.

  “I’m sorry.” I watched in shock as she continued to flail. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m sorry.”

  Her mouth stretched wide in agony. Her arms flung toward me as if reaching for help. Her fingers clawed the air. Smoke poured from her head as her skin blackened, burning from the inside out.

  She took a long time to die.

  I didn’t feel any satisfaction when the blue light finally sizzled out and her body collapsed to the ground like empty rags, only horror at what I’d done. A light haze of smoke and the smell of burnt meat filled the room. I shook as the remaining adrenaline worked its way through my blood stream. My eyes stayed frozen on the corpse. I shrieked when the door opened. Ceallach entered. He seemed undisturbed by the dead Portal.

  I grabbed the Chrysaline from the floor, surprised at how heavy and cold it felt. “Don’t come any closer. I’ll do the same to you.”

  Ceallach lifted his gaze from the dead woman. He gave me a chilling smile. “I have no intention of trying to stop you, Alystrine.”

  I shuddered. “What?”

  “I told the Portal it was folly to try to break you using the Chrysaline. Only one of you would survive.” He folded his hands together. “I knew it would be you.”

  “Because of your dream?”

  He nodded. “Your return has caused great turmoil in the unseen realm. Your destiny lies on the battlefield.” He raised his hands to his side. “You will die there, of course. But that means no one can defeat you until then.”

  “Have you seen that too?”

  He didn’t speak but gave me a questioning look.

  I liked having the weight of the Chrysaline in my hands. It gave me confidence. “Have you seen my death?”

  “No.” He gave his head a small shake. “But no one can defeat the army you will face. All the Fallen since the beginning of time will stand against you.”

  “So the odds aren’t good.” I shrugged one shoulder, struggling to remember the power I’d felt in Ginessa’s Glade, only a few short hours ago. “I wouldn’t count me out.” I rolled the softly glowing sphere in my hands. “What happens now?”

  Ceallach stepped away from the door. “You’re free to leave, my lady. The Ov
ates know that nothing can stop you until the appointed time. It would be futile to try.”

  “Then why did you let Sigal bring me here in the first place?”

  The red-haired man glanced down at the corpse. “We despise the Portals in Braedon’s control.” He spat on the body. “Elder blood allowed to learn the secrets of the Mystics. It is an abomination.” He lifted his cold eyes to mine. “How did it feel, Alystrine? To kill a human being?”

  If I’d eaten anything today, I would have hurled on the carpet. Instead I swallowed the acidic saliva in my mouth. I didn’t want to appear weak in front of him, but I knew he could read the horror on my face.

  “She was your first, wasn’t she?”

  I didn’t tell him about the Black Guard in the forest. Besides, that thing couldn’t be called a human.

  “Until you learn to treat your enemies as something less than yourself, you will never learn to enjoy your victories.”

  “I’d rather rule this world without having to battle anyone,” I whispered.

  I didn’t think he’d heard me, but then he spoke. “Good and evil cannot exist together eternally. At some point in time, the two must battle.” His eyes stared at me blankly, as if he looked into some other place. “You will have to choose. Whom will you serve, Alystrine? Yourself, Ruahk or the Fallen? Your answer alone decides Ayden’s fate.” Ceallach blinked. “Go now. You are free to leave our temple.”

  I wondered if he knew what he had told me, or if something had spoken through him. “I don’t know the way out.”

  He bowed. “Allow me.”

  I skirted around Sigal’s body but stopped to re-wrap the Chrysaline and slip it into the satchel she had carried. I followed Ceallach through the halls of the Ovate Temple. The scent of incense, smoke and mold permeated the corridors. Gargoyles stared down from the tops of stone columns. Occasional fragments of chants floated past. Ceallach motioned to the same short man who had refused Sigal and me entrance when we’d first arrived. The man unbarred the gold doors.

  Ceallach paused. “I look forward to seeing you again, Alystrine. On the battlefields of Ayden.”

  “That won’t be for a while.”

  He bowed as I passed him. “It will be sooner than you, or any of the Elders, wish to believe.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Back to Uz

  The gold doors slammed shut behind me as I walked down the stone steps. The freezing rain had turned to snow while I’d been inside.

  I’d had bad days before, but this had to be the worst. I’d gone from the bliss of Ginessa’s Glade to the mental and physical tortures of the Black Guards. I’d been electrocuted by the Chrysaline and killed a woman. I’d also learned that the entire destiny of a world depended on my decision making skills and that I would one day face a demon horde from hell.

  “I just want to go to bed,” I muttered to myself. “Is that so wrong?”

  I trudged along the dark streets as snowflakes drifted down in lazy circles. I came to a small central square with a fountain in the middle of it. No water flowed, but the base around it gave me something to sit on besides the cobblestones. No lights shone from any of the windows around the plaza. I didn’t hear any signs of life. I thought about trying to find Kyran, but decided against it. More than likely he’d started back to the Fey to finish what he’d started with Fenella. He wouldn’t want me getting in the way again.

  Quinn?

  You’re out! His voice sounded clear inside my head.

  I figured mine must sound stronger to him as well, maybe that’s how he could tell I’d escaped from the Fey. Why can’t I find a passage to you?

  We’re in the palace. He paused. We’re all being watched. I cannot leave without bringing down a host of guards.

  My heart sank. My wounds burned. What do I do?

  Can you find a passage to Malina? She’s not in the palace.

  Malina! I’ll try!

  Get to her. We’ll find you there.

  Even though I’d seen her daily once I got to the palace, and I’d only really been away for a few days, it seemed like another lifetime. I pictured the old woman and pushed my thoughts toward her. A thin, silver thread, like a cobweb, floated out from me. I followed it until I sensed it connect to my friend. Once I was certain the passage was complete, I found the currents that could carry me to her and took them.

  Malina’s green eyes flashed with surprise. She dropped a wooden spoon into the pot she’d been stirring.

  “Malina! It’s me!” I reached out to steady myself on the dark wooden table by my side. I let the satchel with the Chrysaline slip to the floor.

  She studied my face. “Alystrine?”

  I sat down on a stool. “Yes.”

  The wrinkles on her well-lined cheeks deepened as she smiled at me. “You’ve mastered the passages, have you? What a wonder!” She sat opposite me. “What brings you here, my lady?”

  “I need to get to the palace, but I can’t get through the barriers.”

  Her smile faded. “You’ll be going back, then? We thought perhaps you’d decided not to go through with Lord Braedon’s . . . contract.”

  “I have no choice, he’s taken a friend of mine hostage.”

  Malina stood and fished the spoon from the kettle. “The boy from the prison?”

  “No,” I rested my forehead in my hands. “A friend from my world. They took him thinking he was Tegan.” I looked at the old woman through my fingers. “He knows nothing about this place. I need to get him back.”

  “How do you propose to do that?”

  “I have no idea.” I hesitated. “My moth–I mean Kennis, and the rest of my family are already at the palace.”

  Malina’s brows furrowed. “Your family? Do you mean your uncle Devnet?”

  I folded my hands on the table. “Devnet, yes. But my grandmother and father as well.”

  The old woman gasped. “Geran is back? In Ayden?”

  I nodded.

  She used the wall to balance herself as she sat down on a stool. “By the gods . . . .”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t answer me, but rocked slightly as she stared into the air at nothing. I knelt at her feet.

  “Malina?”

  Still she ignored me.

  I took her hands in mine. “Malina? Talk to me!”

  She shook her head as if I’d startled her awake. Her eyes searched mine. She pulled a hand free and cupped my face with it. “There’s no hope now, don’t you see?”

  “No hope for what?” I pressed my cheek against her palm. “I don’t understand.”

  “Braedon may not be the best of lords, but at least if the two of you were to marry, the land might have peace.”

  I couldn’t help but gasp. I’d never thought she’d wanted me to marry him.

  She placed her hand on my shoulder. “But your father hates the Mystics.”

  “None of the Elders would approve the marriage.”

  Her green eyes filled with tears. “It’s not just the marriage. Your father won’t rest until we’re all destroyed.”

  “What?”

  “He vowed before he left that he’d kill us all.”

  I stared at her, unable to process what she said. “You mean he wants to kill Braedon and the Mystic Council.”

  “No.” Her fingers dug into my shoulder as if she clung to me for her life. “Your father has sworn that every last Mystic is his enemy and must be destroyed.”

  I shivered under her intense gaze. “But you and Greer . . . you aren’t like Braedon.”

  “Your father does not care.”

  I wrenched myself away from her. “I won’t let that happen. I won’t let my father kill you.”

  Her lips curled into a weak smile. “I know you will do your best.”

  I paced the small room. “I have no idea how this is all going to play out. As of right now, I’m still supposed to marry Braedon within a year of my coronation.”

  “The Elder Council might have agreed wi
th it to prevent all-out war, but now that Geran has returned–”

  “Nothing has changed. I’ll be on the throne, not my father.”

  Malina remained quiet.

  I knelt back in front of her. “I need to get to the palace. I need to save my friend.” I took her hands in mine. “Will you help me?”

  She seemed to ponder my question before nodding. “Aye. It seems we are destined to see this through, whether we like it or not.” An odd expression shadowed her face. “Are you bleeding?”

  I’d been so relieved at finding my way to her I’d almost forgotten all that had happened. It rushed back to me in an instant. I looked at Kyran’s shirt. The sleeves lay plastered against my arms with crimson glue. So far the bandages around my stomach had not bled through.

  Her natural healer instincts took over as she led me to a cot along one side of the small room.

  I sat down. Malina peeled the shirt over my head. “What’s happened to you, child?”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to tell anyone. I wanted to forget it had ever happened. I focused on a candle burning on the table and watched the creamy wax drip down the side and harden into a puddle at the bottom.

  The old woman didn’t seem to mind my silence. She set about unwinding the bandages on my right arm. “I’ll have to take a needle and thread to you. It’ll never heal on its own.” She pulled supplies down from a shelf. “Was it an animal?”

  I didn’t look at her. “Do you have some kind of alcohol?”

  Her head popped up from the basket she sorted through. “Hmmmm?”

  “Something to disinfect the cut with. It’s been washed with water but his claws . . . .” The image of the dirt and blood on Mahon’s hands made me want to puke.

  Malina stared at me, her face pale in the amber light of the room. “Who did this to you?”

  “Please.” I swallowed the bile in my throat. “We need to kill the germs.”

  “As you wish.” She scurried about the room, gathering the things she needed. I cried out when she poured what smelled like witch hazel over my arm. She patted it dry with a clean towel then handed me a well-chewed leather strap. “Bite on this while I mend you.”