City of Shadows

by D. D. Miers

I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

  “You looked beyond it and simply saw me for who I am, rather than what I am. It happens when there is a connection already. Because I was bonded with your brother—and you’re twins—it’s magnified.”

  “Why?” I asked, uncertain as to where my convoluted thoughts were even going. “Why did he choose this?”

  “Because…” Caitrín began. “He believed.”

  “Why didn’t he bond with you? Since you two were…”

  Her eyes lit up as she laughed. “Becoming a familiar does not mean there is that sort of connection. Aedan and Killion, they were like brothers, and were far more suited to making their way to the City of Shadows than myself.”

  “So…” Aedan again drew my attention as my heart pounded in trepidation. “What say you?”

  A thousand choices laid before me in that moment. More than anything, I wanted to run, to go back to the encampment and wait with the childish hope that Killion would return. I wanted my life back. But, as I stood there allowing the truth to sink in—that my brother had died living a double life I’d never known about—I knew I had to choose the unknown.

  There were several dozen innocent people sitting at our camp right now, unaware of the threat that loomed. I couldn’t imagine looking into Freda or Leander’s eyes and seeing them as empty creatures of the Dark Fae. I had to move forward.

  “Fine. I’ll do it—for Killion.”

  Breaths that were held let go around the room, lightening the tension in an instant. Unfortunately, that only added to the weighted pressure I felt as Caitrín rose to her feet.

  “Come. There is one last thing we must do for Killion.”

  I had no choice but to follow, hot on her heels with Aedan close behind. I’d spent so much of my life avoiding the Fae, and now I was sandwiched between two and walking back into the chamber where my brother and countless other bodies rested.

  Without instruction, Aedan lifted Killion, his arms hanging lifelessly toward the floor as Caitrín cradled his head. They carried him to the center of the room, settling him gently upon a long and narrow dais. It was dark, so dark I could scarce see him as I held his cold hand far from the flickering glow of the sparse oil lanterns.

  “Every soul in this room is trapped,” Caitrín explained as she pulled the sheet free of Killion. “We’ve done it purposefully, to keep them from being further infected by shadow. Had these innocents been left out beyond the fall of night, they would have been claimed and risen not as they once were, but as familiars controlled by the Dark Fae who took their lives.”

  “A Dark Fae did this to him?”

  “We believe so, given the mark upon his back.”

  Curiosity was a clever thing—tricky in nature and hard to deny. But in this moment, with bile rising in my throat, I chose ignorance. “What must I do?”

  “The ritual requires a drop of a kin’s blood. It is why so many here remain with trapped souls.”

  The unease in my stomach only worsened, leaving me swallowing hard. The thought of Killion going through any further pain tightened my chest with dread. Although they had shown themselves to not wish me any harm, I couldn’t help the part of me that still doubted them, watching for their ulterior motives. Yet, the pair stood patiently, Aedan focused and immovable, Caitrín pleading with me with the softest of expressions.

  I winced before I even pressed the tip of my dagger into the center of my palm. It hurt far worse than the prick of a needle I often inflicted on myself whenever I aimed to sew up tears in my clothes.

  “Now place your palm upon his chest, where his heart resides.”

  Startled out of my brooding, I did as I was told, settling my hand to the cold skin of Killion’s chest, where Caitrín had already pulled his shirt open. I half expected to feel some sort of connection to the brother I’d loved, but he felt no more alive than a chilled rock.

  “Close your eyes, Sloane.”

  I fell behind a veil of darkness, leaving me acutely aware of the silence of the large chamber.

  “Now I want you to focus on Killion. Think of the warmth, the life, the spirit of him…his entire essence. Imagine if that was all captured within his heart. Picture it there, and imagine drawing it out from him and into your own heart. Can you do that?”

  “Yes,” I said as the soothing tone of her voice lulled me into submission.

  “Good. Do that, and simply listen to my voice.”

  Thinking of my brother wasn’t a difficult task. His smile had always been infectious, and his laughter loud enough to wake the heaviest of sleepers. He’d lived life the best he’d known how, and apparently, to a much broader degree than I’d ever known.

  Tears streamed down my face when I again heard Caitrín’s voice, this time in a low chant of a song I’d never known before. The words were unrecognizable, but as they melded with the visions of my brother, my heart swelled in joy and sorrow.

  Though I didn’t know the language she spoke, I felt something shift with her crescendo, as if a heavy weight around us had lifted. Then, through the fallen lids of my eyes, the room went black.

  “Killion?” I barely recognized the sound of my own voice as I remained steadfast, almost certain I’d felt him move. Pressed to my palm, I felt a swelling spark, which turned my quiet weeping into an outright sob.

  “Accept it, Sloane,” Aedan urged me quietly beneath the hum of Caitrín’s chants. “Your brother is gone. You must set his soul free.”

  “I…can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. Just let yourself feel.”

  It hurt, far more than I could have imagined, to turn away my denial. I was a slave then to the hum that set my every nerve ablaze, and my heart opened just before the flood of warmth that caught my breath. Killion was here, not in the flesh, but his soul remained.

  I hadn’t noticed when silence fell. Instead, my eyes peeled open to a winding of arms that pulled me into an embrace I hadn’t been prepared for.

  Caitrín cried against my shoulder.

  “Thank you, Sloane. I could not have done that without you.”

  My embrace remained stiff, but I raised my hand and placed it upon her back. Her pain was as real as mine, even if she was Fae. “It worked, right? I felt something…I felt…Killion.”

  She pulled away, dabbing at the damp of her eyes while somehow making crying look elegant. “Yes. His soul, cleansed of what was essentially a curse. Now he may truly rest.”

  “And now,” Aedan said as he recovered Killion’s form, “you may take his place as my familiar.”

  The calm I’d gained fled. “Please tell me there’s no blood involved.”

  Aedan laughed, the sound deep as a bass drum. “No, there’s no blood involved, and it’s far simpler than this.”

  Caitrín was already sweeping toward the door. “The sun is already up. We can complete the ritual outdoors.”

  Loathe to admit it, I was terrified, especially of the unknown. Were it not for the gentle press of Aedan’s hand at my back, I wasn’t certain I would have followed it all. Had it not been for my brother, I never would have given him a moment to get so near.

  It wasn’t long before we stepped out into a vast courtyard surrounded by towering walls of stone blanketed in ivy. A single gate stood at the far end, its height stifled by the wall that continued above it, and its surface just as obscured with a flowering vine littered with tiny white blooms. The space was gorgeous, albeit devoid of any furniture or landscaping beyond a single birch tree whose white bark stood stark among all the green.

  From the nearest wall, Aedan plucked two ivy leaves, lush in color and great in size.

  “Place it within your right palm, like this,” he instructed. Without giving me time to react, he unfurled my hand and settled the leaf within. His touch was hot, like the dance of a flame from which I recoiled.

  “I’ve got it,” I said, uncertain if I was reassuring him—or myself. Unfortunately, the ritual had better ideas than allowing me a bit of distance.


  Caitrín came in, linking Aedan’s right arm with mine so the leaf and palm gripped the other’s forearm. Nervous as I was, I stared straight ahead at the ridge of his collarbone, and at the curious green beneath the edge of his shirt.

  “What is that?” I asked in a slip of a breath that betrayed my desire to appear in utter control.

  “What is what?” His head tilted, bringing the tips of his hair brushing against the very part of his neck at which I stared. “Oh. All Fae share connections to nature, as we were born of it. I can show you, if you would like.”

  “No,” I shouted, far louder than intended, before I cleared my throat. “No. I’m good. Can we just get this over with?”

  It was hot, far too hot given I could feel the heat rolling off him.

  “Very well.” Caitrín smiled as she stood at our sides, blocking the sun from my eyes. “From the earth we have risen, and unto her, we shall fall. Ne’er will another replace the purity of our hearts, but may our choices make us stronger. Enter this bond not lightly, for loyalty is the only path rewarded. Aedan, do you accept Sloane as your familiar, to share in this bond unto your death?”

  “I accept.” Beneath his hold on my arm, the leaf burst into a string of ivy that wrapped around us like a bandage. Even if I’d tugged, I wouldn’t have freed myself of him, and already my heart was pounding in my throat.

  “Sloane,” Caitrín continued as my mouth went dry. “Do you accept Aedan as your familiar, to share in this bond unto your death?”

  Unable to speak, I nodded.

  “You must say the vow, Sloane.”

  “I d—I mean, I accept.” The flesh of my palm tingled as another string of ivy burst free, and wrapped our hands now so solidly together I dared not even breathe. Except, I was still only human, and the moment I let in the smallest breath, my nose filled with the scent of cedar and fire smoke. My eyes shot up, only to fall directly into Aedan’s amused gaze.

  He pressed a single finger over his lips, bidding me be silent.

  Only mildly aware of Caitrín’s stifled laugh, I pressed my lips tight and refused to look up again as she continued.

  “May no bond be stronger, and may none be given the chance to break that which has been given freely.” Her hand settled over our entwined arms. “Unto death.”

  The vines that entangled us crackled like logs in an open flame. Within seconds, they vanished into thin wisps of smoke that drifted off into the morning breeze, like a distant memory questioned for its reality.

  “Sloane.” My attention snapped to Aedan, whose eyes had yet to cease with their dancing mirth. “You can let go now.”

  I immediately pulled back, a good distance more than was necessary. “Sorry.”

  Again, Caitrín laughed. “The bond can be a bit…disorienting at first, as you get accustomed to it. So, shall I leave you two to it, then?”

  “Leave us to what?” The idea of being alone with Aedan unsettled me.

  “A bit of training and showing you the ropes. Usually we would train for months, but we’ve only so long before the next blood moon. It would be best for you to simply leave now, but I know you didn’t sleep last night, either.”

  “So, wait, we’ll train for a day, sleep, and then head to this City of Shadows? This extremely dangerous city filled with Dark Fae?”

  “Well,” Aedan’s lips curled, “we’ll need to pick up a few things along the way.” It seemed he’d also picked up something along the way, given the lengthy knife he now held in his grasp. That, or I’d been oblivious to where he’d been hiding it all this time. “Ready to show me what you know?”

  “You want to fight me…now?”

  Aedan raised the blade to rest on his shoulder. “The time to grow accustomed to each other before we begin training has long passed. We have to start today with trust. We don’t have the luxury to wait as per usual”

  “How far off is the next blood moon?” I asked.

  Aedan smiled. “Not far enough.”

  I pulled my dagger out, and held it at the ready. I’d taken down a beast of the shadows and a Dark Fae. How hard could this be?

  “All right, I’m ready.”

  9

  “Hold nothing back.”

  I needn’t be told twice. Not as one of Aedan’s lengthy steps put him within reach. He may have been trained in the best forms of combat, but Killion and I grew up in the Outlands without a single adult to care for us. We had to become strong. Resilient. Adaptable from an early age. The trials I faced in my youth were where my advantages lay.

  I swung, careful to duck under his calculated attack that could have knocked the hair from the top of my head. Aedan drove me back with a burst of strikes that made my teeth ache with how hard the reverberating steel shook my spine.

  My back slammed into the wall, shoving the air from my lungs in one swift breath. Quick as I thought I’d been golden, I wasn’t. Aedan’s knife lifted to my throat, and he pinned my wrist holding the dagger to the wall.

  How in the hell had he done that? I hadn’t even seen it coming, and unlike almost all the fights I’d been in, this one wasn’t deafened by the drums of fear.

  Under the narrowing of Aedan’s intense stare, I waited through shallow breaths until he finally relented and stepped back.

  “Your grip is so tight your knuckles are turning white,” he said with a point of his knife. “You need to hold it firmly, but not so tight you lose sensation in your fingers.”

  I hefted the dagger in my hand, letting it settle a bit more loosely between my palm and fingers. “Did Killion train with you?”

  Aedan lowered into his next stance, reminding me he was not about to let up. “Yes. Now, do not stop until you’ve landed a blow.”

  Part of me wished to protest. If we had such tasks ahead of us, it would be truly stupid to injure him before heading out. Yet, as I stood there sizing up my chances with the steadfast fighter, I knew the odds were slim to none. Still, I had to try.

  I rushed back in, my every swing and jab thwarted by an ease I only wished I could emulate. Where I was fast, he was somehow faster, and where I was strong, well, he could lift and thrust with far more strength than I could ever hope for.

  Soon, my lungs burned with exhaustion, and my arms flailed with a weakness I dared not show. A spark had set aflame within me, a driving force that kept me pushing on even with all the odds in his favor.

  Egged on by a streak of misplaced confidence, I struck. I somersaulted in under the swing of his arm, my jump back to crouched feet hindered by the unruly bulkiness of the crossbow on my back. Still, I was in, close enough to slash at his legs.

  He lifted his boot, the thick of the leather taking merely a nick in perfect deflection of my attack. Crouched, close, and out of grand ideas, I did nothing but wince when the same boot crashed hard against my chest.

  My lungs seized in a momentary loss of air as I slammed to the ground. I’d been defeated, plain and simple. Had this been a real fight, I would have been dead, not merely grimacing at the dull ache in my spine from landing atop my crossbow.

  Overhead, the sun blotted out behind Aedan’s sly smirk. “Not bad. You’re clever, but you may want to focus on the defensive to keep your head attached to your shoulders.”

  Reluctantly, I took hold of his offered hand and found myself swiftly yanked to my feet. “I have killed some, you know.”

  “Killed what? Dark Fae?” His brow rose significantly.

  “Yes,” and now that I’d said it, I felt a fool. What did it matter if I was to be walking into a den of them? “I had distance, and knew the terrain.”

  “Sadly, we won’t have that advantage. I know you’ve never been through Nuxvar Pass, Killion told me himself.”

  “Why?” My voice was barely a whisper. “Why would he tell you that?”

  “Because he spoke of you often, his sister he wanted to protect so she wouldn’t need to worry any longer.”

  My heart swelled, giving me the confidence and drive it seemed I’
d needed. I wasn’t so vain to believe Killion had done all of this for me, but the fact I’d been at the front of his mind at all was enough to push me forward. I could do this in his memory, and for all those who remained endangered back at camp.

  I settled my blade within my grip, ready to try once more. The call of sleep pulled at me, my body begging for respite, but I persisted.

  We ran in, our short blades grating against one another in a fight for dominance. We pushed hard, a dance that left my heels digging into dirt and my arms crying for mercy with every blocking throw of my dagger. He was relentless, and I exhausted all my power and will in fending him off.

  Killion had always said there was ‘no rest for the wicked’.

  Beaten down second after second by Aedan’s persistent swings, I wondered how it was I’d survived the trek here at all, how it was I’d escaped those Dark Fae. Shifting my stance, I suddenly saw my chance, my ticket out. I hadn’t merely faced my attackers head-on, I’d used the world around me to my advantage. Wit sometimes won over brawn, and I’d proven that at least a few times over.

  I continued my constant blocking of Aedan’s attacks, and he never seemed to question—or notice—my altered steps that brought us beside the tall birch tree. Once we reached it, I fought back, my every attempt vicious in nature but still short of landing a blow. He was too experienced, and too nuanced in his moves for me to guess what was coming next. Yet all I needed was a single moment, one opportunity.

  He swung toward me, his arcing swing long enough for me to make my move. With the tree as my leverage, I yanked myself free and felt the reverberating thud as his arm bounced off the trunk. It was too late, though. I came around the birch. With a flick of my wrist, I swung my crossbow to the narrow point of his back.

  Aedan laughed heartily, the rumbling sound grating on my nerves as I stood there in solid victory.

  “You haven’t loaded a bolt, Sloane.”

  Dammit. Sure enough, he was right. I stared at the empty chamber and realized this could well have been a fatal mistake if the circumstances were different. I dropped down, the cool grass under the shade of the tree a welcome respite from the warming sun.