Flashback

by Shannon Messenger

  “Don’t look at me,” Tam said. “I have no idea what any of this means.”

  “Of course you don’t,” Lady Zillah told him. “You’re too new to your studies.”

  “Then would you care to enlighten us?” Magnate Leto asked.

  “Light has nothing to do with this,” she argued, waving her fingers back and forth over Sophie’s hand. “The echoes are a remnant. A souvenir from an extraordinary encounter. Proof that this girl’s been touched by shadowflux.”

  ELEVEN

  SOPHIE WAS ONE HUNDRED PERCENT certain that she wasn’t going to like the answer. But she still made herself ask, “What’s shadowflux?”

  “And why have I never heard of it?” Elwin added.

  “Because Flashers prefer to pretend it doesn’t exist,” Lady Zillah told him. “It shatters your naive pretensions about the illustriousness of light—though, to be fair, many Shades choose to avoid the subject as well. It’s easier to focus on shadowvapor because we understand it on instinct. It lives within us and never ignores our commands. Whereas shadowflux is something else entirely.”

  “But these shadows poured out of Umber,” Sophie argued.

  “I’m sure they did. Because she put them there—which is no small feat. Shadowflux doesn’t like to obey.”

  “That’s why I had to fight so hard to remove it,” Tam confirmed.

  His Mentor nodded. “We’ll discuss that in a moment. First, I’m curious: Tam said there was some sort of eruption at the end of the attack. Was the light used for that final strike more than one color?”

  Sophie closed her eyes, reliving the memory. “Yeah. It looked like a swirling rainbow.”

  Lady Zillah smiled. “I’ve always wondered what would happen if shadowflux were pitted against the full spectrum. Fascinating that it hindered the Psionipath’s ability in the end—though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. There are always consequences for playing with the elements.”

  “You’re saying this is a sixth element?” Magnate Leto clarified. “Earth, wind, water, fire, quintessence, and . . . shadowflux?”

  “The building blocks of everything we know,” Lady Zillah agreed. “No one wants to see it that way. No one wants to be made of darkness—not with the warped views we hold of it. Everyone would rather sweep the knowledge away, bury it with the other bits and pieces that don’t fit within the neat box we use to define our world. But that won’t stop it from existing. Just like it won’t stop a few brave souls from reaching for the sky, calling for that pure, raw darkness. I know I’ve tried. But it resists me. Even now”—she waved her hand over Sophie’s bandaged palm—“the echoes skitter away. But they embrace my prodigy.”

  She motioned for Tam to come closer and grabbed his wrist, holding his hand over Sophie’s forehead. “Tell me what you feel.”

  Tam closed his eyes. “. . . Nothing.”

  “Don’t reach for shadows—reach for darkness,” she demanded, pushing his fingers closer, until they were just a hairsbreadth away from touching Sophie’s forehead.

  His eyebrows crushed together.

  “I still don’t . . . Wait.”

  A shiver rocked up his arm.

  “I remember that chill from earlier,” he said, with a slight chatter to his teeth as he jerked his arm away.

  “Remarkable,” Lady Zillah breathed. “I knew your power was immense. But commanding shadowflux!”

  “I didn’t command it,” Tam argued. “I just said I felt something cold.”

  “I’m not talking about the echoes. I’m talking about what you did to spare your friends after they were exposed. Commanding those shadows.”

  “Technically I didn’t command them,” Tam corrected. “I wrapped them in shadowvapor and commanded that.”

  “Yes, but the shadowflux still allowed itself to be contained,” Lady Zillah insisted. “It respects you. Sees you as an equal.”

  Elwin snorted. “You make it sound like it’s alive.”

  “In a way, it is. Just as fire hungers and wind breathes and water roars and earth waits. I’ve never been near quintessence, but I hear it pulses. And shadowflux dreams—hovering high above, waiting for something to capture its interest.”

  Tam glanced at Sophie. “Like I said. She’s intense.”

  “It’s hard not to be intense when discussing elemental energy,” Lady Zillah told him. “Your sister understands. So do Gusters. And Pyrokinetics.”

  Linh trailed her fingers through the air, creating swirls of mist. “But Tam doesn’t feel a steady pull the way I do—or do you?” she asked her brother.

  Tam shook his head.

  “You have water around you constantly,” Lady Zillah reminded Linh. “Shadowflux is distant. It has to be called for and convinced that it wants to respond—and even then, it’s always ready to rebel. I can teach you the basic commands,” she told Tam. “The rest will be up to you. Training will be tricky, since it resists me, but I’m sure we can figure it out.”

  Tam tugged his bangs lower across his eyes. “I think I’ll pass. That stuff feels way too creepy.”

  “It feels as it was made to feel—nothing more, nothing less. Shadowflux is neither good nor bad. Safe nor deadly. It is all things, waiting to discover how it will be wielded. What you do with it is entirely up to you.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure no one should be messing with it.”

  “But they are,” Magnate Leto reminded him. “And if the Neverseen are using shadowflux, it would be wise for us to learn as much about it as possible.”

  Tam sighed. “Okay, but . . . isn’t there someone with more training who should do that? I’ve only been at Foxfire a few months.”

  “And you’ve shown more potential in our sessions than any Shade I’ve ever worked with,” Lady Zillah insisted. “And with the right discipline—”

  “See, that’s the thing, though: I’m bad with discipline. Ask my Exillium Coaches. They hated me.”

  “From what I’ve heard about the conditions you endured in that struggling program, I’d say any defiance you demonstrated was both deserved and necessary,” Magnate Leto assured him.

  “Maybe,” Tam conceded. “But . . . I still don’t think I’m the right guy for this. I’ve seen what Linh deals with—and I know you’re saying it won’t be as bad as that. But the thing is: She’s also way more determined than I am.”

  Lady Zillah stepped closer, cupping his cheeks the way a grandmother would. “This isn’t doubt I’m hearing. This is fear. And you should never fear your power, Tam. Or yourself. I know our world makes it hard not to. Very few value our talent the way they should. But darkness is vital—and not because it teaches us to appreciate the light. It’s part of everything we know, and we’ve only begun to harness its potential. And if shadowflux respects you, that is significant. I won’t call it a gift, because it may very well end up a burden, as is so often the case when it comes to immense power. But it’s important—and if I had any worries about your ability to handle it, I would never offer to teach you.”

  Tam pulled away, blowing out a breath hard enough to ruffle his bangs. “This is how you feel all the time, huh?” he asked Sophie.

  “If you mean the sense that you’re about to agree to something that’ll probably change everything, and part of you is excited while the other part is terrified that you’re going to ruin all the stuff you care about—yep. Why do you think I tug on my eyelashes?”

  Tam’s smile looked grim.

  “For what it’s worth,” Sophie added, “one thing I’ve realized is that nothing can change me unless I let it. And I have to believe I’m strong enough to not let it. Plus, I have awesome friends and family who always have my back.”

  “So do you,” Linh said, spinning her brother around to face her and resting her hands on his shoulders. “You stood by my side all the years I fought with my ability. I’ll stand by yours through whatever comes—whether you open yourself to this darkness or choose to keep it far away. And I know you can handle it.” />
  Tam gave Linh’s shoulders a gentle squeeze before he stepped away.

  He glanced at Sophie. Then Fitz. Then Magnate Leto. And finally back to his Mentor. “Fine. I guess we can give it a try.”

  Lady Zillah’s smile had a gleam to it. “I look forward to tomorrow’s session.”

  “Wait!” Edaline said as Lady Zillah turned to leave the Healing Center. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  When Lady Zillah frowned, she pointed to Sophie’s hand and forehead. “You need to remove the rest of the shadows. Or teach Tam how to if they won’t respond to you.”

  Lady Zillah shook her head. “There are no shadows. All that remains are the echoes.”

  “I don’t understand what that means,” Edaline told her.

  “I’d wager none of you do. No one bothers learning about Shades. You’d rather banish us like criminals.”

  Sophie wished she could argue. But while the elves didn’t discriminate because of money or skin color—like many humans did—they had plenty of their own prejudices. The Talentless suffered the brunt of the inequality, but certain abilities were also valued above others. And some—like Shades and Pyrokinetics—were scorned or forbidden. She’d even heard some of her friends talk about Shades as if the ability made them harder to trust—though that was before they’d really gotten to know Tam.

  “For what it’s worth,” Magnate Leto said carefully, “I’m incredibly grateful you accepted my offer to mentor Mr. Tam, just as I was extremely happy when Mr. Tam agreed to attend Foxfire—and I’m thrilled you’ll be exploring this new facet of his power. I’ve always believed that Shades have a tremendous amount to offer.”

  “We do,” Lady Zillah agreed, turning back to Edaline. “But even the greatest among us could not do what you’re asking. Echoes cannot be removed. They are a whisper of memory. The body’s story of its encounter with the kind of force that changes everything it touches. They will likely fade with time. But they are the girl’s burden to bear. And the boy’s.”

  “Fitz has an echo?” Linh asked, beating Sophie to the question.

  “Only one,” Lady Zillah said, and Sophie already knew where it had to be.

  Still, it felt like someone kicked her in the stomach when Lady Zillah pointed to Fitz’s heart and said, “Here.” She moved to Fitz’s side, closing her eyes and waving her hands over his chest. “His is much softer, though. Less angry.”

  “How can an echo hold emotion?” Magnate Leto wondered.

  “Shadowflux transmits the will of the one commanding it—and the echo is a reflection of that transmission. So in the girl’s case—”

  “Her name is Sophie,” Edaline interrupted. “I realize you find this all fascinating, but you’re talking about my daughter.”

  Lady Zillah ducked her chin. “You’re right. I did not mean to seem insensitive.”

  She made her way back to Sophie’s side, tapping one finger against Sophie’s forehead before whipping her hand back like she’d been burned. “The shadowflux that struck your daughter was filled with rage. And now that rage has left an echo.”

  “I still don’t know what that means,” Edaline told her.

  “Honestly, neither do I,” Lady Zillah admitted. “At least not completely. There are no rules for such things. Only discovery. But I’d wager Sophie is being haunted by ghosts of pain. And nightmares. Both of which will slow her recovery.”

  Sophie hesitated before she nodded.

  “Does that mean Fitz is having nightmares too?” she asked, hoping the sedatives weren’t trapping him in some mental horrorscape.

  “No, his echo is in his heart,” Lady Zillah reminded her. “It will likely affect his pulse. And perhaps certain feelings—and those will slow his recovery. But as I said, the shadowflux that touched him was far less angry. There’s a strange sort of triumph mixed in. Was he harmed to punish you?”

  “And to convince me to cooperate,” Sophie added.

  “That makes sense. The triumph tempers the rage, making the echo far more tolerable. His will fade faster than yours.”

  “But they will fade,” Edaline verified in that voice parents often get when they’re trying to sound calm—and failing completely.

  “Mostly, yes. Some tiny remnant will always remain. Think of it like scar tissue.”

  “But scars are harmless,” Elwin noted.

  “When the echoes fade to that point, they will be,” Lady Zillah promised.

  “And in the meantime?” Edaline asked. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”

  “I’m sorry,” Lady Zillah said.

  Sophie reached for Edaline’s hand. “It’s fine. I’m a pro with nightmares.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Lady Zillah told her. “I feel tremendous strength in your shadowvapor.”

  “Forgive my ignorance,” Magnate Leto jumped in, “but I’m trying to understand. If the echoes will eventually fade, it seems like there must be something that would speed that process along. Some trick of light—”

  “Light is not the answer,” Lady Zillah interrupted. “It rarely is.”

  Elwin huffed a laugh. “Getting a little tired of your slams against my ability.”

  “I’m sure you are. Now you know how I feel every day of my life.”

  Elwin had the wisdom not to argue.

  Magnate Leto cleared his throat. “What about a trick of shadows, then? Darkness can be soothing and restful—and you said these echoes reflect emotion. So perhaps a new wave of shadows could calm the anger somehow.”

  “I suppose it’s possible,” Lady Zillah admitted. “But that would be up to my prodigy to try. The echoes do not respond to me.”

  All eyes turned to Tam.

  “I have no idea how to do anything you guys are talking about,” he warned.

  “That’s where instincts come in,” Lady Zillah reminded him.

  Tam glanced at Sophie. “Do you seriously want me to try this?”

  She shrugged her good shoulder. “I don’t know. It sounds weird and convoluted—which is how most of the stuff I’ve done tends to sound too, and it usually works.”

  His eyes narrowed, studying her for a long second before he reached up and swept his bangs off his forehead. “I don’t even know where I’d begin.”

  “How about by relaxing?” Linh suggested, guiding him over to the empty cot next to Sophie and forcing him to sit. “You didn’t know how to lift veils of shadowvapor until you tried it.”

  “Yeah, and that caused a whole lot of screaming,” Tam argued.

  “This may as well,” Lady Zillah warned. “You’re managing a trauma. And traumas can be ugly things. But it’s no different than treating physical injuries. I assume it wasn’t pleasant when Elwin set her fractures. But it was necessary. And now it’s aiding Sophie’s recovery.”

  “Why does this scare you so much?” Linh whispered when Tam just sat there staring into space.

  “I don’t know. I just . . . I hated those shadows. I hated how cold they were. And how they didn’t listen to me. And I hate that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them since I felt them.”

  “Then you don’t have to do this,” Sophie told him. “Seriously.”

  He tugged his bangs over his eyes. “No. I guess I’ll just . . . send my shadow into your head, and if my instincts don’t kick in, I’ll try to send some happy shadow thoughts or something to see if it makes the echo less angry.”

  Linh grinned. “I think I need to get Happy Shadow Thoughts embroidered on a tunic for you—with a bunch of smiley faces.”

  “I definitely think I need to see him wear that,” Sophie agreed. “Especially if it’s pink.”

  “Hot pink,” Linh decided. “With sparkly letters.”

  “And it should say Angry echoes—beware! on the back!” Sophie added.

  “You’re distracting him,” Lady Zillah warned—but Sophie was pretty sure that was Linh’s intention. And it seemed to be helping.

  Tam looked much more like his usual snarky
self as he asked Sophie, “You ready?”

  She nodded, smiling so he’d know she meant it. “Bring on the happy shadows!”

  • • •

  Darkness flooded Sophie’s mind. But it was softer somehow.

  Peaceful.

  A sliver of shade on a scorching day.

  The first wisps of a long, quiet night.

  The shadow of a perfect hiding space.

  Her consciousness curled up, snuggled in, folded the layers over like blankets, and sank into the sweet, soothing black.

  Seeking shelter.

  Craving rest.

  Feeling safe.

  Dreams beckoned, and she let them guide her to that hazy line between present and past. Thought and memory.

  And slowly, her mind crossed over.

  But that was a mistake.

  That was when the darkness shifted.

  Tightened.

  Grabbed hold and dragged her down, down, down. To that cold, lonely abyss.

  Where the monster was waiting.

  She thrashed and flailed. Screamed for help. But the beast was already roaring—Gethen’s voice again. Each taunt scraping away scabs and tearing open wounds.

  Predictable.

  Weak.

  Preparing your replacement.

  We can find you.

  See you soon.

  And the monster was only getting started.

  Its claws dug in, scraping bottom.

  Unearthing what was hidden underneath.

  Then the roars shifted tone and cadence—morphing into other ghosts. Other voices.

  Older, deeper pains.

  Their Vanisher will never be the same.

  This is my swan song.

  You can’t fix me.

  Everyone will pay.

  Damaged.

  What are they hiding in that impenetrable little brain?

  Sophie, please—stop!

  Each cry came with flashbacks. The memories shredding and slicing and stabbing. Blending old wounds with new—except the last one.

  The last phrase stayed detached.

  A nameless, faceless haunt—the voice familiar but impossible to place.

  And the monster fixated. Roaring over and over and over.