The Shadows of Dark Root (Daughters of Dark Root Book 5)

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The Shadows of Dark Root (Daughters of Dark Root Book 5) Page 15

by April Aasheim


  “No, but I’m going to try.”

  As I made my way over to Merry, I noticed the impish shadow creatures darting out from the woods periodically, blending almost seamlessly with the encroaching darkness. I shivered. What were they? And why didn’t anyone else seeming to notice them? I reached into my pocket, rubbing the smooth side of the apple with my thumb. Was this worth risking a bite?

  “That owl is a quite suitable companion for you.” I overheard Cernunnos say, as I approached. “We have a great many birds here in our sanctuary. They are all well cared for, free to roam the forest. Starlight will make many new friends.”

  My sister, now wearing a crown of flowers, beamed as he kissed the tip of her nose.

  “Merry, how are you doing?” I asked, smiling innocently as I joined the couple.

  “Your sister has enchanted me,” the king answered on her behalf. “Her life-giving work with plants and animals is unparalleled. She cannot be a mere mortal.”

  Merry blushed and touched a ring on her left hand, one I’d never seen before.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “It is a gift,” Cernunnos said proudly. “Merry has agreed to be my wife.”

  “You did what?” I snapped my finger several times in front of Merry’s face, hoping to wake her from her daze. I looked at her place setting at the table. There were three empty wine bottles lying near her plate of half-eaten fruit.

  I tried to stay calm as I reasoned this out. There were too many of them to fight through, and their magick was too strong. I had to know the ‘truth’ of what was happening. I turned away and inconspicuously took a bite of my apple. The world spun again. When I reoriented, the entire setting had changed.

  The fruit on the tables was rotted and boiling with worms. The leaves on the trees were brown and dying, their branches thick and grotesque, knotted and twisted. The dancing women, the band, even the servants were no longer brightly clothed and luminous – they were sickly gray creatures with bloated bellies and bulbous noses. When they spoke, the sounds coming out of their mouths were only grunts and clicks. Even Cernunnos’ disguise fell away, revealing soulless eyes and glistening teeth. His antlers were sharpened to knives.

  The only color came from Merry, who danced with light and beauty amidst the ugliness of this world. And then I noticed the lights in the trees remained as well, tiny beacons glowing even brighter against the stark backdrop.

  Did that light in the tree just move?

  I wandered over, until I was directly beneath the bough. Up close, the lights in the trees weren’t twinkling, they were wriggling! They looked like Japanese lanterns, glowing from within.

  There is a person inside! A person cocooned in a web of light!

  The trees writhed with glowing orbs, the inhabitants thumping and rattling against their cages! A grunt from a nearby bush sent me into hiding behind the trunk. One of the imps emerged. It had long pointed ears and a heavy brow. The beast poked at a lantern with a stick, knocking it loose.

  It fell to the ground, bouncing twice and rolling away, the captive still inside. The shadow-creature pounced, stabbing the lantern with the point of his stick. The cage deflated and the person inside vanished. The imp creature breathed in deeply, smiling with pleasure before skittering back into the woods.

  Were these the tired souls Cernunnos spoke of?

  I snuck back through the trees, to behind the communal building. Shane, Eve, Ruth Anne, and Paul were waiting impatiently for me. As quickly as I could, I explained what I’d seen.

  “It sounds like those lanterns are soul incubators, and those creatures are consuming them before they reach maturity,” Ruth Anne hypothesized, now sounding more sober. “I know demons feed on fear. Maybe these things feed on souls?” She rubbed her head. “I dunno. I’m still groggy.”

  “We still need to get Merry,” Paul reminded us, rubbing his temples.

  “I’ll get her,” Shane said.

  I grabbed his arm. “She’s drunk. And Cernunnos will put up a fight. Anyone got any ideas?”

  “Nope, but I got a speel book…er, spell book.” Ruth Anne handed over Mother’s Book of Shadows, upside down.

  I flipped through the pages, not sure what I was looking for. How could we get Merry away from Cernunnos? She didn’t see him as he truly was. Nor did she see the people in the lights, or the shadow beasts.

  My fingers stopped on an incantation titled, ‘Eyes Wide Open.’

  “Will this work?”

  Eve surprised me by opening her designer backpack and taking out a small wooden mortar and pestle wrapped in cloth. Next, she pulled out herbs, a paper fan, and a vial of peppermint oil. Reading through the spell as she worked, she mashed the oil and herbs together. When she seemed satisfied, she passed the mortar over to me.

  “Go ahead, Maggie,” Eve said. “You’re the strongest. We can’t screw this up.”

  I scrawled the image of an eye into the dirt, reciting the spell.

  See with the mind, not with the eyes.

  Reveal the truths and expose the lies.

  I flipped open the paper fan and waved away the scent drifting up from the mortar. One by one, the villagers arose from their stupor. They yawned and blinked, looking around, as if seeing their world for the first time.

  Suddenly, I heard Merry scream and an alarmed snow owl flew off her shoulder. “What’s happening?” she asked, hunkering against Cernunnos.

  I waded through the festival, releasing the scent into the air. Reaching my sister, I dropped the bowl and lifted my wand. “Merry, get away from him. He’s not who he appears to be. They want to harvest our souls, Merry.”

  Cernunnos was aghast. “I’m sorry, my queen, but your sister is not making sense. Perhaps she has drunk too much?”

  Merry looked from me to Cernunnos, then at the misshapen creatures scurrying around us. “Who are you?” she asked the king.

  “I don’t harvest all the souls,” he said defensively. “Just the ones I need for barter. How else do you think we keep the demons off our lands? If you want to eat omelets in paradise, you have to break a few eggs!

  “Do you think this lifestyle comes cheap? Hades may be my cousin, but he doesn’t cut me any deals on rent. The plants, the animals, the servants…they don’t propagate themselves. And don’t get me started on the cost of entertaining my people.” Cernunnos tilted his head, rubbing his thumbs and forefingers together. “My world runs on life energy; without it, everything falls apart.”

  “But none of this is real,” I said. “You eat rotten food and live in filth.”

  “The illusion is good enough for most,” he said. He turned to Merry, clasping her hands. “Stay here with me. I’ll keep you in wine and jewels.”

  Merry pulled away to stand beside me, drawing her wand. “Let us go!”

  “I can’t,” he said. “Even if you don’t stay willingly, you will stay. And your sister,” he said, motioning to me, “will be traded. With her value, we will drink real wine and eat real food. And all my demon problems will be solved. Just think, your sacrifice will be for the greater good! No more souls will need to be harvested or traded.”

  The imps began closing in around us, poking at us with sticks as if checking for tenderness.

  “Run!” I ordered Merry. I thrust out my hands, sending a wave of creatures skidding backward across the dirt.

  Cernunnos grabbed Merry and she whacked his arm with her wand. It transformed into a thick vine, though immediately began repairing itself. Furious, he roared, his antlers lengthening, their sharp tips gleaming in the moonlight. “You will pay for this!”

  “You will not harm them!” said a voice I recognized. Demi, the poet from earlier in the evening, marched regally forward, wearing a long white gown. She moved slowly, and as she passed each unlit torch, they sprang to life.

  “Let them go, Cernunnos,” she said. “Or else.”

  “Or else what, crone?” he asked with a sneer.

  “Oh, am I the crone now? I wasn’t
a crone when you were rubbing those sandpaper hands all over me last night, was I? I’ll bet your new queen doesn’t know about your other queens.” She turned to us. “He has three wives in this district. Who knows how many abroad? Thelemia didn’t decide to leave, she was forced to. Cernunnos only likes things new and fresh.” At this, she morphed into a beautiful young woman. “Even if it is only illusion.”

  Cernunnos looked her over with greedy eyes. “If you knew your place, I wouldn’t need more wives, would I?” The two began passionately quarreling, and Merry and I broke away during the distraction.

  Thunder rolled all around us. Not just overhead, but truly all around us. A sense of dread covered the land.

  Where are Shane and everyone else?

  My heart raced as the sound of footsteps pounded up behind me. Something grabbed my wrist and I cried out, turning to fight. But it was Shane, and the others were with him.

  “Which way?” I asked him.

  “Not far. Follow me.”

  “It’s getting so dark,” Ruth Anne said.

  The hairs on my neck prickled, and a chill touched my spine. Even the moon seemed hidden.

  This isn’t just a storm.

  “Gahabrien,” I whispered. Though I couldn’t see, hear, or even smell him, I felt his presence in my bones.

  I absolutely knew it was him. He had haunted me, the proverbial monster in the closet, until we trapped him in a jar and buried him in Aunt Dora’s garden. Did Larinda set him free, setting him loose in this world? “We need to find the next portal immediately.”

  “West,” Shane said. “I can see the gate in my head.”

  We ran as fast as we were able, trying to outrace the darkening sky. We passed by groves of trees filled with lantern cocoons. There were hundreds of them, all swaying in the branches.

  “We can’t leave these souls to be devoured,” Merry said, stopping abruptly.

  “Yes, we can,” I replied, looking over my shoulder.

  She stared at me with wide eyes. “These people were loved by someone. They deserve better.”

  I sighed and came to a stop. “Ah, hell! But just one tree.”

  We heard panting and growling in the distance, growing closer every second. And Gahabrien’s dark energy was gathering. We didn’t have long.

  Ruth Anne and Shane scrambled up the trees and pulled the lanterns loose, dropping them down to us. We batted at them with our wands, releasing the brilliant white light within. As we watched them evaporate upwards, I felt a sense of peace, one that even Gahabrien’s shadow couldn’t dampen.

  “Just one more tree,” Merry said.

  “No! They’re almost on top of us!”

  But Merry was already dashing to the next tree, reaching for another cocoon. She jabbed at the gauzy covering with her wand, freeing the soul quickly.

  “Go on ahead,” I called to the others. “I’ll get Merry.” I reached my sister as Shane fended off three imps barehanded. “We need to go right now!”

  “Okay.” She looked to the sky, her eyes frantic. “I forgot Starlight! We need to go back.”

  Shane backed towards us, imps nipping and clutching at his limbs. “The portal’s just over the hill. I think the others are already there.” He pointed up the slope and I saw a flash of gold over the crest. My ankh blinked with certainty.

  The horde was almost on us now, led by Cernunnos himself. We linked hands and ran for the portal.

  Halfway up the hill, Merry jerked free. “Starlight!” she cried, pointing to the sky. Her owl was flying towards us, and she ran in his direction, calling his name.

  “Damn it,” Shane said, veering off to chase down Merry.

  “Leave her alive!” Cernunnos commanded his minions. “You can do what you please with the others.”

  I watched, frozen, as the horde scurried past Merry and converged on my husband. Dozens of them, rolling over him like a tidal wave.

  “Get off of him!” I screamed, charging down the slope. I let loose my anger and imps flew in every direction. Others disintegrated where they stood, becoming piles of dust. But more appeared to take their place, and I was pushed further and further away.

  I suddenly felt Merry’s hands on me, pulling me back up the hill. “Maggie, we can’t wait!”

  I could feel the tears stinging my cheeks now. I couldn’t see him! I couldn’t see my husband.

  My sister was dragging me away, and I could hear myself screaming.

  I reached out, feeling my heart being yanked out of my chest, as the portal sucked me in.

  8

  The Chariot

  Paul stared at the man with the bushy beard and thick mustache for a long time. There was gray at his temples and crescent folds beneath his eyes. But though the man had seen a few years, Paul recognized him at first glance. It was Dave Dalton, a legend in the business. He had discovered Seattle bands like Roving Danger and Butterfly Horizon, and had even had his picture on the cover of Rolling Stone.

  And here he was, sitting in the front row and nursing a beer, listening to Paul and his brother Eric play through their set. This was their big chance!

  The brothers played through all the cover songs they knew, weaving in their best originals. Paul made a last-minute song change, catching Eric off guard, but his brother rolled with it. They were perfectly in sync tonight.

  When the set was over, Paul stood up from his piano and Eric removed the strap of his guitar. The audience, by now mostly drunk, clapped and shouted for more. Good timing, thought Paul, as he disappeared with his brother behind the curtain.

  “What the hell was that change-up for?” Eric asked, guzzling down a warm beer.

  “That’s Dave Dalton out there,” Paul said, cracking the curtain and pointing. “He’s a bigshot music producer. Or at least he used to be, back in the ‘90s.”

  Eric took a look himself, then turned to Paul, eyes wide. “What the fuck’s he doing here?” Paul’s brother was only younger than him by seven minutes, but they were very important minutes.

  “He’s checking us out. That’s why I played ‘Sylvia Sleeps.’ It shows our full range.”

  “The hell it does. ‘Reefer Gladness’ runs the whole gamut! You know how the crowd reacts whenever we play it. You should have called for that one instead.”

  “You’re just saying that because you wrote it.” Paul scratched his head and wondered what the protocol was. They had dreamed of the day when an influential exec would hear them and offer a deal. Should they go introduce themselves?

  “We have one more set coming up,” Paul continued, looking at the clock as he sipped his water. “We’ll do one of your songs, then one of mine. That way he gets the full package. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  They spit into their palms and shook, as they had when they were kids. Paul was the heart, but Eric had the soul. Paul could write beautiful lyrics, but it was Eric who was able to convey the emotion to the audience. With their combined talents, they were sure to impress Dalton.

  They returned to the stage ten minutes later. Paul resumed his seat at the piano while Eric picked up an acoustic guitar. They began with ‘Nowhere to Go’, a song Paul had written about a man with no idea what he wanted to do now that he was an adult. It was a song of childhood dreams lost, one that usually received nods of acknowledgement from the men in the audience, and brought a few pretty girls to tears.

  It was the best rendition of the track they had ever played. The audience was as still as stone while Eric’s heart-wrenching voice called to them across the bar. A few people at a far table held up cameras and lighters, swaying them in the air. When the tune was over, everyone cheered. Paul was almost certain he saw a smile crack beneath Dave Dalton’s mustache.

  He winked at his brother. Eric grinned back. Paul then moved on to the drums, and they began their next song. “One, two, one-two-three…”

  Eric strummed into a livelier song, a fun romp about partying too much and having to work the next day. The crowd clapped and stomped along,
and a few danced beside their tables. Eric was so encouraged that he let loose an unexpected guitar solo he’d only played in his garage. The audience went crazy, raising their hands and howling as Eric’s fingers glided effortlessly over the guitar strings. Dave Dalton leaned forward on his bulky forearms, squinting his eyes with interest. Even Paul was stunned by his brother’s genius.

  Even though Eric had broken protocol, Paul did his best to keep up. Dave Dalton at least seemed to be enjoying it. After five minutes, Eric finally returned to the actual song and the crowd hollered their appreciation. How a tune about drinking whiskey and picking up women got more attention than a poetic ode to life bewildered Paul, but he let it go. He would deal with his emotions later. Now, he needed to stay focused.

  By the end of their last set, the audience would have followed them into battle.

  “Dude, we killed it!” Eric said, back behind the stage.

  “Yeah we did! Nice solo, by the way. I just wish you had let me know first.”

  “Sorry about that. I just got inspired. Loved the way you just joined in, though.”

  “Knock, knock. Can I speak to you boys?” Dave Dalton waddled over to them. His puffy cheeks were flushed and his brow beaded with sweat. He looked a bit like the Monopoly Man, without the top hat and monocle.

  “Mr. Dalton.” Paul grinned, extending his hand “I’m Paul and this is my brother, Eric. I’m a big fan. A big, big fan.”

  “I know who you are,” Dave said, reeling his hand back in. “I received a call from a good friend about the two of you. Said you had raw talent, and she was right. I’d love for you to come up to New York on me and audition for a band I’m putting together. You’d both make awesome front men and it looks like you play multiple instruments.”

  “Yes, sir,” they said at the same time.

  “Good.” Dave handed Paul a card and gave them directions. “Call my secretary, Jeanine. She’ll arrange everything.”

  The brothers looked at the card, and then at each other, trying to keep their expressions from betraying them. “Thank you,” Paul said, on their behalf.

 

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