by Holly Evans
I ran my fingers over the collar. The ink network ran down my fingers with the sensation of curiosity. The network poked and prodded at the collar. I felt the threads nudging at the small divots in the metal, but it couldn’t get at what it wanted. The buzzing sensation of ink magic was there, but something was between me and it. I lifted the collar and looked closer. The colour caught the light oddly. The metal should have glinted white and perhaps a soft blue, but instead it looked rose and lilac.
“There’s alchemy between me and the ink,” I said.
Fein gave a sharp nod and held out his hand for the collar.
“I have an alchemist. Stay near your phone. We need to understand how to break these, and how to stop that ritual.”
With that, we were dismissed and sent home to heal our wounds, ready for the next battle.
41
Caiden returned victorious late that afternoon.
“They won’t help us, but they’ll stop blocking us at every turn,” he said as he collapsed into the armchair.
“That’s good, but we’re running out of good homes,” Luka said.
“We’ll find more. They don’t have to stay in the city, if need be we’ll fly them over to America,” Caiden said.
“One of them can take my place with the hunter,” Tala said.
Caiden smiled. “No, little wolf, you were carefully chosen. The thought is appreciated, though.”
Tala nodded and curled up a little tighter. Everyone was quiet. It had been a long, hard fight, and the prospect of more to come wasn’t cheering anyone up. Keirn slept next to me, his head on my shoulder as I stroked his hair.
The peace didn’t last long. I’d barely gotten out of bed when Fein demanded my presence at his house. His alchemist had cracked the alchemical portion of the collar, and he needed me to break the ink half. I leaned in and kissed Keirn, allowing myself to linger and savor the moment. We needed to cherish every opportunity we got.
Fein had sent a car to retrieve me. He didn’t have the patience for me to walk over there. He flung the door open the moment I stepped onto the porch. He was back in his usual suit and pristine hair, but worry lines flowed around his green eyes and tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Miss Felis has produced a powder that can be cast over the wearers to break the alchemy, but you need to break the ink magic,” he said as he led me through the vine-covered hallways.
Miss Felis turned out to be a red-headed woman around about my age with a genuine smile and dancing eyes.
“You must be Mr. Corbeaux! Come in, I’d love to discuss ink magic with you,” she said.
I gave her a tight smile.
“Another time, perhaps, we’re on something of a schedule, here.”
“Yes, we have twelve hours before the ritual. My people are out trying to track down the location of the ritual as we speak,” Fein said.
I gave a nod of understanding to Fein and turned to Miss Felis.
“The collar?” I asked.
Fein’s attitude was putting me on edge. I had no doubt I’d be the same, if not worse, if it were Keirn who’d been taken, but that didn’t help me.
“Of course, yes,” the alchemist said.
She led me between the white lab tables over to the one covered in small bowls and bottles of brightly coloured things.
“The collars are absolutely fascinating. Do you know why they chose the beings they did?” she asked.
I hadn’t really given it much thought in truth, and I suspected I was about to be told why they’d been chosen.
“The corvid shifters provide the connection to the between. They can’t usually breach the veils the same way the Cait Sidhe can, but there’s something about their essence that ties them to that. Then the familiars act much like batteries, quite like how they work with their hedge witches. The cat ferals have the most curious alchemical make up, they can mold themselves to whatever element is required of them. Don’t you think that’s interesting, given they have no magic at all of their own? There’s all that potential there, and no way to unlock it, at least not without removing their essence and then, well, it’s no good to them, is it?”
I smiled politely and remembered what Tala and Vyx had said about the alchemists taking the ferals. I had some answer as to why they took them now, or at least the cat ferals. They viewed them as intriguing pieces, little pieces of magic to be pulled apart and sold. I looked at the smiling woman before me. She had bright green eyes that danced with curiosity. Had she taken a feral off the street and used them?
I pushed the thought aside and looked pointedly at the collar on the lab table before us. A pale blush crept across her cheeks as she picked up the collar.
“I’ve made a large dose of the required powder, so you don’t need to be too accurate,” she said, handing me a large bottle of emerald powder.
I looked at the powder and watched it sparkle in the light. So that was going to help save the day. Alchemy always managed to look both wondrous and utterly plain at the same time. It was simple powder, and yet it was going to break down complex magic. It lacked the flashiness of the elements, or even my magic, but it was still vast and useful. There was some rivalry between the alchemists and the magicians. Alchemists have no magic of their own, but they’re rather adept at pulling together the magic within other things to create new magics. They had their uses, and I hadn’t dealt with any to really form my own opinion, although what Vyx and Tala had said had certainly coloured my views somewhat.
I set the powder back down and held out my hand for the collar, painfully aware of the alchemist’s gaze on me. The ink network surged down into my hands and burst into the collar. It sank itself down into every crevice of the collar and ran along the complex web of ink threads that lay within. Small knots formed in my mind, complicated weavings that required my full attention. The ink network had no patience. It dipped into the small gaps between the threads and tried to break them apart. I swatted it away and demanded it allow me to look more closely. It took me a moment, but I found the weakness. Slowly, one by one, it wrapped itself around the threads and yanked, pulling the knots apart in quick succession. The collar crumbled in my hands.
Miss Felis grinned at me. “That was remarkable!”
I gave her a tight smile and picked up the bottle of powder. Now I just had to be able to do that while surrounded by fighting and potentially a fucking shadow predator. No pressure.
“I have received word that this ritual will require a weaver to stop it. Due to the delicate nature of the situation, the pool of potential candidates is rather small. Caiden recommended the chosen weaver. He should be arriving at your apartment in ten minutes,” Fein said.
My blood ran cold. There was only one weaver I knew that Caiden knew. Surely the gods weren’t so cruel?
“Does that mean I’m done here?” I asked.
“Yes. Return home, you’ll be notified as soon as we have the location of the ritual.”
“It was nice to meet you,” I said to the alchemist.
I squeezed Fein’s shoulder as I passed him.
“We’ll bring him home,” I said quietly.
Part of me expected the elf to react violently. Instead, he gave me the shadow of a smile.
Isla led me out of the house and to the waiting car. My mind refused to settle on one topic. I needed to figure out a way to break those collars without laying my hands on them. The ink network pressed forward and showed images of my doing so. I didn’t want to risk giving it such control. It reminded me of just how good it felt when I could see and sense all of that magic. That was why I couldn’t do it. I was not going to allow myself to slip down that slope. I was stronger than that. There had to be another way.
42
My stomach twisted in knots on the elevator ride up to the apartment. The chances of the weaver in question being Isa were slim. Caiden was a hound, he must have known dozens of good weavers. That didn’t stop the anxiety, though. I wasn’t ready to see Isa again. The doors
opened, and I heard the familiar laugh. I’d heard it on so many previous occasions. I was over him, I loved Keirn more than I could express, but my mouth still went dry at the thought of seeing Isa. I plastered a smile on my face and headed into the living room to face up to the situation. Keirn greeted me with a tender kiss and wrapped a possessive arm around my waist.
“Isa has come to help stop the ritual,” Keirn said.
“You look well,” I said to the little weaver.
And he did. His eyes were glowing as he smiled at Caiden. His hair was cut fashionably and his clothes fit his lean form well. He’d clearly gained some muscle since I last saw him, thanks to regular sparring sessions with Caiden and Jake, no doubt.
“You look tired,” Isa said with a smile.
Caiden stood that little bit too close, his eyes watching my expression too intensely. How long had that been going on, I wondered. Just how far had they gone? How long did it take for them to take that final step?
“Who wants coffee?” I asked.
“I’m already making some,” Vyx called over.
Kyra walked around Isa and shot away from him when he went to run his hand over her head. An awkward silence descended over the room as Isa looked away and Kyra jumped into Keirn’s spare arm.
“I hear you guys got together,” Isa said.
The word finally sat between us as his smile sharpened.
“How have things been in Wildrun?” I asked, trying to keep things civil.
“Good. Caiden’s been really good to me.”
“I’m sure he has,” I thought.
“So, what exactly are you doing with this ritual?” Keirn asked.
“The shadow walkers are opening a tear between this plane and the shadow plane so their predator can come through. You need a weaver to close that tear,” Caiden said as he put himself partially between Isa and me.
“What do we do while they’re trying to find the location of this ritual? Shouldn’t you be helping with that?” I asked Caiden.
He bared his teeth.
“I don’t know the city as well as the others, and someone needed to brief Isa,” he said.
“So, we just wait, now?” I asked.
“Unless you have a better idea?” Caiden said.
I took my usual seat on the sofa and pulled Keirn close to me as I turned on the television and allowed the ink network to step forward.
“How can I break these collars without you riding me?” I asked the network.
Golds rippled around me.
“That’s not an answer.”
The golds deepened in colour.
I ground my teeth and clenched my fists. I really was not in the mood for the network’s stubborn bullshit. The fact that it could talk when it saw fit only increased my frustration.
“I’ll ask you again. How can I break the collars without you riding me?” I ground out.
Red cracks spread throughout the golds around me. The network had the gall to be getting pissed at me. I took a calming breath. It was a magic network, it didn’t think the way we did. I decided to try a different tack.
“You call me your son, and yet you treat me as a tool. Which is it?”
The golds faded into sickly sweet rose pinks and peaches. A feeling of comfort crawled over my skull and slithered down my spine. It was a cool, false comfort that I thought people riding kelpies must get before the damn things dive into the water and drown them.
“Those collars are a problem, and they need to be resolved. Are you going to help me do that?”
A bright flash of neon colours burnt my eyes.
“Good. Are you going to do it in a way that leaves me with my own mind and such intact?”
Heather greys washed over the floor around my feet in silky waves of mist.
“Fuck you too,” I snapped.
I’d had enough. Trying to communicate with it was trying at the best of times, but I had no patience in that moment. The network hadn’t done anything wrong, but I couldn’t take my frustrations out on Isa. What a situation to be in.
43
The phone call came just after lunch.
The ritual was taking place directly under the astronomical clock. Apparently, there was a big system of tunnels under that area, and the clock sat directly over an area of magical significance. I tucked the bottle from the alchemist in my pocket and ran out the door with the others. We piled into the back of the car and hung on for dear life as it hurtled across the city. Everyone was tense and ready to fight. Not a word was said as everyone stared out the windows, locked away in their own worlds.
Luka stood waiting for us near the clock tower. Shadows hung under his bright eyes, and his tawny hair was mussed, but a fierce expression filled his face. We were going to end this little war. He wasted no time in leading us to the entrance of a narrow alley and led us at a quick jog down some shallow steps into the underground. The air was cool, and the darkness seemed to wrap around us. It was the ideal shadow-walker hideout. The sound of our footsteps was cut short as though we were locked inside some invisible bubble. A feeling of dread settled in the pit of my stomach, and I found myself slowing my pace as I peered into the darkness. Something was wrong.
The low visibility dropped to zero. A strangled cry of surprise came from somewhere in front of me. I drew my silver stiletto knife and waited. The ink network and Aris both pressed against my mind, each eager to defend me. My vision shifted. The darkness slowly gained faint smudges of colour. I found myself torn. On one hand, thanks to the ink network, I could now see roughly where the shadow walkers were. On the other, it was riding my body without my permission. Again.
The cougars’ roars were followed by Caiden’s snarling. Keirn’s cry of surprise really made the decision for me. I allowed the ink network to remain at the level it was at and lunged at the closest violet smudge. The edges of a person appeared out of the darkness at the last second as I thrust my blade into the heart of the smudge. Resistance met my blade, quickly followed by a cry. The darkness lifted enough for me to see I’d just stabbed a young man, barely older than Tala. He clutched at his stomach where the blood stained his black T-shirt, the same blood that dripped from my blade.
A cold vine of shadow wrapped around my ankle and yanked, throwing my balance off before someone hit me in the temple. I spun around to punch in the direction of whoever had me. My fist collided with someone. They groaned, and the shadows lifted. I took the opportunity to push forward and punch them in the stomach with everything I had before I drove my knee into their ribs as they doubled over.
There was now enough light for me to see Isa dispatching the last of the shadow walkers. Two others lay near his feet. He moved with ease, swift flowing movements that reflected what I’d seen of his weaving style. The shadow walker dropped to her knees before Isa with a shocked expression on her face. Isa lifted his chin and looked at me.
“We need to find the tear. I can feel it, follow me,” he said.
I paused and wondered what had happened to the quiet little thing I’d met in the bar. Isa jogged down the tunnel with his head up and hands firmly wrapped around a pair of silver knives. I followed him, feeling a little useless. The ink network had retreated without my needing to make it do so, which was a relief. There wasn’t time enough to get into a fight with the damn network.
The sounds of fighting echoed around us. Swearing in elvish made me smile. Keirn couldn’t be too bad off if he was swearing at the top of his lungs. Isa took a sharp left, and we were suddenly at the entrance of a large cavern. The floor gently sloped away from us. Patches of old stonework covered some areas; hard-packed earth covered the majority, though. Small orbs of light floated near Keirn and the others, shining light on the shadow walkers they were fighting.
The shadows crawled up the exposed brick walls in thick tendrils that dripped from the curved ceiling and formed small black clouds of mist near the shadow walkers themselves. I’d had no idea that shadow could behave like that. As far as I’d been aw
are, it was almost oil-slick-like in texture, a thick, smooth substance that the walkers manipulated like the elementals. Yet the shadows there were slithering along the floor and acting in ways that almost appeared sentient. A vine crawled along the wall and shot out at Caiden, where it tried to wrap around his neck. He cut through it with his silver knife without so much as glancing in its direction.
The collared slaves were sitting in a neat circle in the middle the cavern, on one of the paved areas. They sat equally spaced from each other, all looking towards the centre of the circle with semi-glazed eyes.
“The tear isn’t here, but we need to break those collars. Be careful, the shadows are sentient. They act independently of the walkers. Keep an eye on them. You can’t destroy them entirely unless you kill the walker that brought them. Go and break the collars. I’ll back you up,” Isa said.
It was an odd sensation, having Isa back me up as opposed to my protecting him, but my ego wasn’t fragile enough that I needed to argue with him. We were there to save lives, not get into a pissing contest.
I ran my fingers over the bottle the alchemist had given me to reassure myself it was still safely there. Isa and I barely made it four steps into the cavern before something grabbed onto my lower leg and yanked it out from under me, sending me flying. I twisted in the air and landed on my hip so as to keep the bottle safe. I wasn’t going to lose that easily. None of the shadow walkers were looking at us, all six of them were entirely occupied by the rest of the group already present. I slashed at the shadow wrapped around my leg and stood up. The shadows were writhing around us as Isa glared them down and wove a web of pale blue tendrils around us.
“Get to the collars,” he commanded.
I ran forward and pulled the bottle free, pushing the stopper off as I did so. The alchemist had better have been as good as Fein seemed to think she was. The ink network squirmed in the back of my mind as I got closer to the collars. The feeling of the collars buzzed in my hands and made my wrists ache. It was twisted and knotted, which only upset the network further.
