Shadowsmith

by Ross Mackenzie

  A strange feeling crept over Kirby, a sensation of something leaving his body, and he realised that it was light, hope and happiness. They were all being ripped from him, feeding the void, to be replaced by fear and hopelessness.

  The chanting grew in intensity. A great rumble came from the void. Kirby felt sweat running down his face, felt something reaching out towards him. He sensed it watching him, something ancient and powerful.

  There came a sound so deep Kirby thought the ground was splitting, and a plume of black smoke shot out of the void high into the air, swirling, climbing. At first it was shapeless, but as it shifted and rolled, it began to take form.

  There was a person in there – a giant – made of smoke, and with every passing second it was becoming more solid, becoming real. He could see the shape of a head, of ragged black robes.

  From the smoke came a voice, and it was everywhere – in Kirby’s ears, in his head, hissing, grating, ripping at his senses. MY CHILDREN.

  “Yes, Mother!” said Brother Swan, his arms outstretched, his face alight with joy.

  “O Despicable One!” screamed Brother Swift. “O Supreme Bringer of Darkness! Mummy!”

  YOU’VE LET THE PLACE GO.

  The brothers exchanged worried looks. “We’ve tried, Mother. Oh, we’ve tried!”

  NOT HARD ENOUGH.

  The brothers wailed and cowered to the ground as Mother glared down at them.

  The smoke swirled so that the thing inside was facing Amelia. AND YOU! MY OWN DAUGHTER! YOU TRICKED ME. SENT ME TO THE NOTHINGNESS. YOU’LL SUFFER. YOU’LL SCREAM AND BEG. THEN YOU’LL COME BACK TO MY SIDE.

  Amelia dropped to her knees, clutching at her head, crying in pain.

  Kirby strained against the spell, horror and fear slashing at his insides as he stared up at the monster in the smoke.

  And then there was Amelia’s voice, in his head. “Kirby,” she said. “Kirby, be strong, be brave. They made a mistake. A big mistake. They used your blood and they let you live. The magic of the spell is part of you now. Feel it. Use it. Stop her.” The words, silent to the rest of the world, drifted around Kirby’s mind, and there they anchored and grew. He could feel their warmth flowing through him, their power.

  He moved his eyes first, shifting his gaze sideward to Amelia. She was still on her knees, crying in pain, but she was staring intently at him.

  Kirby gained more control over his body. He pushed and pushed, until he broke free from the standing stone, the force of the spell flowing in his veins.

  He glanced over at her brothers, who were clinging to each other and weeping.

  Then he dared to look up at the smoke figure, which turned its head towards him.

  WHAT HAVE WE HERE?

  He felt the creature’s strength grow as its dark robes gradually became more substantial, swishing in the soft breeze. Soon she’d close the tear, and she’d be unstoppable.

  Kirby knew what he had to do. It was written in his every thought, as if it was meant to be this way. He looked once more at Amelia, and he thought of Mum and Dad and Craghaven.

  Then he ran forward, and leapt into the void.

  The Void

  Darkness.

  Kirby knew he was still Kirby. He could remember. He recalled Mum and Dad, and Amelia, and the smell of the sea. He remembered his bedroom and how the summer sun felt on his skin. He remembered exactly what had been going through his head in the moments before he leapt into the tear.

  In this place, wherever he was, he did not have a body.

  It was the strangest sensation, like being everywhere at once, spread out into infinity. And he knew something was sharing the space with him, something that watched him with a curious eye.

  He thought he’d try to speak, because that’s what a person would do, isn’t it? Shout into the dark and hope something can hear you.

  Surprisingly, he found he had a voice. “I know you’re in here.”

  Silence.

  “I’m not really sure what you are,” he went on. “I won’t pretend to understand how strong you are, or how many bad things you’ve done. But I understand one thing very clearly. I’m here to stop you causing any more harm.”

  WHAT ARE YOU?

  If a dying star could speak, this is how its voice would sound. It was huge, and burning, and empty of everything but fury.

  “I’m one of the little people,” said Kirby. “I think that’s what you call us.”

  A pause.

  IMPOSSIBLE.

  He could feel Mother in every inch of the darkness, probing him with her thoughts, trying to break into his mind. In the world he knew, she would have crushed him like he was nothing. But not here, not now.

  “I should be frightened of you,” he said. “And I am. I’m really, really frightened. But you know what? Out there, where I’m from, there are people I need to protect.”

  The darkness bristled. Kirby pushed on.

  “Your sons made a mistake. They made me part of the spell that’s supposed to bring you back. So here I am. Standing in your way. I won’t let you past, even if I have to guard the way forever.”

  She pushed harder, and he felt the pressure. She was creeping in on him, twining around his mind in the dark. He pushed back.

  I HAVE SEEN WORLDS BORN AND DIE. I HAVE OUTLIVED STARS AND GODS AND CIVILISATIONS. YOU WILL BREAK.

  She pushed again, and Kirby felt her grip tighten. Her creeping roots were forcing their way into his thoughts.

  YES, she said. BREAK.

  Flashes in his mind. Dad out on the lifeboat, enormous waves swallowing the boat up, dragging it down into the dark sea.

  “No,” he said, feeling the fear infecting him. “That’s not happening, not real.”

  Another image. Mum in her hospital bed, machines beeping, alarms screaming. Nurses and doctors crowding around, trying to save her. And then stepping back, shaking their heads…

  “No!” Kirby yelled.

  And now a coffin being lowered into the ground, Kirby standing alone at Mum’s grave in the cold and the rain…

  She pushed again, almost breaking past him. Kirby was so close to defeat.

  Then, in the vision of the graveside, he felt a warm hand take his, and he saw a yellow raincoat and a freckled face and green eyes. In the darkness he saw light. Warmth flowed through him, and he forced the visions to change…

  He saw Dad coming ashore, safe, alive. He felt Mum wrapping her arms around him.

  Mother’s grip loosened. She fell back.

  “You’ll never win,” he said, and this time his voice was as fierce and bright as the birth of a star. He forced her out of his thoughts, forced her deeper and deeper into the void. “There are people who love me. People who need me. I won’t let you win!”

  An explosion of light illuminated the dark. He felt her shrinking and cowering.

  YOU CAN’T KEEP ME OUT FOREVER. I’LL FIND A WAY…

  Kirby screamed out with one final effort, and she fell away into infinity.

  After that there was only silence, and light.

  Something pulled at him. He was falling, falling, falling.

  He landed on wet grass.

  Above him, the tear in everything was no longer black. It was shining bright as the sun. And the column of smoke was formless again, being sucked into the light.

  It took him a few moments to feel his body again. He scrambled away clumsily to the outer edge of the stone circle.

  Amelia was sitting on the grass, shaking away the cobwebs. Around her, Brothers Swan and Swift were trying desperately to run away, but the tear was pulling them back, drawing them in.

  “No! Oh please no!”

  Their feet slipped and slid on the grass, their heels dug in. They wrapped their arms around the standing stones, but the spell was too strong and their fingernails left marks in the stone as they grasped and scratched. The void would not be denied a meal. It wrenched them to the ground and they grabbed at the long grass, ripping up clumps of earth.

  B
rother Swift was sucked in first.

  “I’m sorry!” he yelled. “I’ll be good!” It pulled him in by the legs, screaming and kicking, swallowing him up.

  Brother Swan was next, the light from the void reflecting off his bald head as he disappeared, limb by limb, until only his face was left, distorted and terrified.

  “We’ll come back,” he said. “We’ll find a way…”And a final burst of suction gobbled him too.

  The tear closed up, folding in on itself until, with a final shimmer, it was gone.

  They were gone.

  The sounds of Kirby’s world returned: the sea on the rocks and the breeze in the long grass. Even the moonlight seemed to sing.

  Amelia sat beside him on the ground, and kissed him on the cheek.

  “I think,” she said, “it’s time to go home.”

  Going Home

  There were two moons: one in the sky, the other reflected in the shimmering calmness of the North Sea. Dad’s little lobster boat cut through the water, Amelia at the wheel in her yellow raincoat. There were dark rings around her eyes and a gash on her head, but as the boat moved ever further from Ruby Island towards the warm twinkling lights of Craghaven, she smiled.

  Kirby watched her every move. He was not scared of her. He could never imagine she would do anything to hurt him. But after the events on the island, he could not help but think of her differently. She was not a girl, not at all, no matter how she smiled at him or how her hair shone.

  “How old are you really?” he asked.

  She stared right ahead at the water. The boat’s engine hummed. “Honestly, I don’t know. I lost count.”

  “But you’re old? Like Swan and Swift said?”

  “Yes.”

  A pause.

  “If she had come back… your mother… how bad would that have been?”

  This time Amelia looked at him, looked right into his eyes, and her green eyes were fierce. “Worse than you can imagine. She’d have dragged the world back to the shadows. It’s what Shadowsmiths are for – to balance out the good with bad, the light with dark. To provide chaos.” She looked away again, unable to hold his gaze.

  Kirby thought for a minute, then he said, “Dad always says nobody should be ashamed of where they come from. He was in jail, you know, my dad. A long time ago, way before I was born. For stealing a car.”

  “I did a lot worse than steal a car, Kirby.”

  “I know that. I do. But every single day since he got in trouble, my dad has been working to make up for it, and to be the best person he can be. And I think that’s what you’re doing too, when you go around helping people like me. You’re putting things right, and you won’t ever stop. And that makes you brave.”

  There were tears in Amelia’s eyes. “Does it?”

  “I think it does,” he said.

  “And what about you?” she said. “You stood up to her. There’s not another person alive who’s done that. What did you tell her?”

  Kirby shrugged. “I told her I would guard the way forever if I had to. And I showed her the people I love. I showed her what I’m fighting for.”

  Amelia smiled again. “You, boy, are much smarter than you look. And isn’t that a blessing?”

  They laughed, long and loud, and the lobster boat sailed on towards home.

  ***

  Mrs Coppershot’s living room light was still on, casting a warm glow through thin curtains.

  “Here we are,” said Kirby.

  “Yes,” said Amelia. “Here we are.” She looked exhausted, but her eyes were sparkling. In the east, the first shoots of dawn were creeping skyward. “A new day.”

  “It feels like a new day,” said Kirby. “Everything’s bright and shiny again.”

  “Thanks to you.”

  Kirby nodded. “You have to leave, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  “Right now?”

  “No, not right now. First I have to rest, and you should too. But after that, there are other things I need to do. Other places to go. Other people who need help.”

  “Would it be really selfish to ask you to stay for one more adventure?”

  “Not selfish, but not possible either.” Amelia nodded towards Mrs Coppershot’s red front door. “Go in. Get some sleep. I won’t leave without saying goodbye, I promise.”

  Kirby turned and looked at the house, and he knew before he turned back that Amelia would be gone. He smiled and unlocked the door, entering the warmth of Mrs Coppershot’s house.

  The old lady was still asleep in her armchair, snoring so loudly the walls were almost shaking. Kirby picked up the teacups Brothers Swan and Swift had used earlier, took them into the kitchen and washed them up. Then he ate a packet of prawn cocktail crisps, had a large glass of milk, and went back to the living room and lay on the couch. As soon as he closed his eyes, he was asleep.

  ***

  “Kirby?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Kirby.”

  Someone was shaking him.

  “I’m sleeping.”

  “Aye, I can see that. Come on. Time to go home, sunshine.”

  “I’m com-fy. Five more min-utes.”

  “Come on, pal. Up.”

  Kirby’s eyes opened and took a moment to make sense of what he was seeing.

  “Dad?”

  “Alright, pal?”

  “Dad!”

  Kirby leapt up and grabbed his dad in the tightest hug he could manage.

  “Whoa! I’ve only been away for a few hours!”

  “Feels a lot longer,” said Kirby.

  “Told you I’d come back, didn’t I? Takes more than a wee storm to keep your old dad down.”

  “Did you find them?” Kirby asked. “The ship that called for help?”

  “We did, aye. Crew’s all safe and sound. Knocked a bit loopy by the storm mind you.” He shook his head. “Man, you should have seen the weather out there! I’ve never known anything like it. And there was some crazy lightning out by Ruby Island.”

  Kirby smiled. “Really? I wish I’d seen that.”

  They said goodbye to Mrs Coppershot, who was back to her normal self, and did not remember anything about Brothers Swan or Swift. She gave them a plate full of homemade chocolate-chip cookies.

  Things really did feel different: the summer air was warm and sweet, and the sound of the sea was soothing. It was almost morning, and the sky was every colour of blue you could imagine. The last of the stars were scattered to the west.

  “I’m starving,” said Kirby, as Dad opened the door.

  “Me too.” Dad held up Mrs Coppershot’s plate. “Be rude not to sample a couple of these, wouldn’t it? I mean good old Mrs Coppershot went to the trouble of baking them…”

  They closed the door.

  Both Kirby and Dad were completely unaware that something was watching from the rooftops.

  Goodbye

  Mum would wake up now. Kirby was sure of it. The witches were gone, and Swan and Swift were beaten. There was no dark magic left hanging over her, or Craghaven.

  When they got to the hospital the next day, Kirby galloped to Mum’s room and threw open the door, expecting her to be sitting up, waiting with open arms.

  He was greeted by the familiar beep of the machines. Mum was lying perfectly still, as she had been for so long. The doctors gave the usual update. No change.

  Kirby struggled through the visit. When he got home he ran to his room, buried his face in his pillow, and cried and cried and cried until he fell asleep.

  When he woke up he felt a bit better. He went over everything in his mind – every witch, every battle. He’d done all of it to help Mum. So why hadn’t it?

  If only he could ask Amelia.

  No sign of her, either.

  A week went by.

  There were reports on the television and in the newspapers about what the press had decided to call the ‘Weather Bomb’. Experts and conspiracy theorists waffled on about the cause, their theories ranging from glob
al warming to aliens.

  Dad taught Kirby how to play chess, and soon he was winning his share of the games, but he could never quite tell if he was really winning or if Dad was letting him win. By the end of the week the crushing disappointment of Mum not waking up had numbed a little. Kirby read to her every day, and Dad listened and enjoyed it. He didn’t even take a newspaper into the room any more.

  Summer, it seemed, was here to stay this time. The world baked in its heat, and everything smelled of barbecues, dry grass and ice cream. The government announced that there would be a hosepipe ban, which meant people could not use hoses to wash their cars or sprinklers to keep their grass green – to save water. Dad said this hadn’t happened for years.

  On one of those glorious days, Kirby walked down the street, past the harbour to the crescent-shaped beach at Ruby Cove. He took off his trainers and stepped into the water. Usually the North Sea was grey as steel and cold enough to turn a person blue in a few minutes. But today it was pleasant and warm as it lapped against Kirby’s shins.

  He stared out to Ruby Island. Had it all really happened? It seemed so long ago, so far away.

  The back of his neck prickled.

  Someone was watching.

  He turned around, looking back to the beach, and there she was, in her dazzling yellow raincoat.

  “I reckon it might be safe to lose the coat, you know.” He pointed to the forever-blue sky.

  “I like this raincoat,” she said. “It’s a nice raincoat.”

  Kirby sat on the sand and let his feet dry in the warm breeze. Amelia sat beside him.

  “How are you, Kirby?”

  A pause.

  “Mum didn’t wake up.”

  Amelia shook her head sadly. “Oh, Kirby. I told you not to pin all your hopes on that. I’m so sorry.”

  “I was just so sure it would work,” said Kirby. “And now it hasn’t… I don’t know what else to do.”

  Amelia sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. “Sometimes the hardest thing is admitting that there’s nothing you can do.”