Shadowed Lies

by Clara Hartley

  With nowhere to hide, the only option was to stand her ground. Her magic bought her hope. But from what she could tell, her opponent was made of the very same power that protected her.

  “Come out!” she yelled into the crackling atmosphere. “I’m not afraid of you.” She was. Her whole body quivered, and her hope had been destroyed and crushed to smithereens. “I’ll tear you to pieces.” She clutched the bag of soul beads hanging on her waist.

  A gigantic pile of rubble shifted. Sparks of fire flew into the air as the dragon cleared an opening in front of her. Its muscled frame crawled toward her. Each step it took shook the ground.

  She willed ice to gather in her hand. The cool mists touched her skin, but did little to help against the assaultive heat of the fire. She threw blast after blast of bluish magic at the dragon. The magic tingled in her hands. The sensation disappeared as soon as the frost left her arm and flew toward the dragon.

  The magic splashed upon the wretched creation. It breezed past its mottled hide like wind against a brick wall.

  A sound like a chuckle rumbled from the beast’s throat.

  It was hideous—the dragon was an antithesis to nature. It went against the balance of Gaia. Its scales were dull, matted, each of them in a bizarre, patternless shape. They spiked randomly from its back. Blood, the essence of her friends, family, lover, dripped from its head to toe. Its teeth reminded her of a shark’s. There were too many to count. Its mouth was littered with rows upon rows of fangs, each covered with a ghoulish red.

  The abomination of nature didn’t look complete. Its wings were torn and half of its face looked like it was melting away. It limbs didn’t look like they were locked together right, and its presence seemed to phase in and out of existence in a flicker.

  “There you are,” Aesryn said, swallowing. She needed more magic. Her soul beads were running out quickly, and despite that, the beast was unfazed. “Don’t… don’t come any closer.”

  It continued stalking forward.

  She raised a soul-imbued hand to threaten it. “You don’t stand a chance against me,” she lied. She wanted to see this creature perish in the most gruesome way known to man. It had taken everything from her without remorse. What had her village ever done to it? “I’ll kill you. I’ll rip you to shreds.”

  Its nostrils flared, as if to say, I’d like to see you try.

  Just then, coughing came from behind her. She spun around out of instinct. Her eyes widened. “Edrienne!” Hope blossomed within her. He was still alive. Vigor to live was renewed in her, and she found strength to fight on. She garnered her courage and said through her teeth, “You’re not doing any more harm to me, or Edrienne.” But doubt laced her resolve. He had tried to kill her. Was it because she finally found her disgusting? Because he saw the real her and was aware of what she had done?

  Thoughts of betrayal crept up, but she tossed them aside. She would question him later. Right now, she had to fight for the one thing that tied her to her previous life.

  More low laughter came from the dragon. It didn’t believe her threat. Of course it didn’t. She had been spouting nonsense. She was useless against it. It had killed her sister and the rest of the senior witches without any problems. They were thrown about like playthings and then smashed into pieces without much effort from the monster. What chance did she have?

  She threw as much magic as she could at the creature. Lighting, rain, rocks, hail, ice, fire. She gave everything she had and screamed out her lungs. Her hair flailed with her magic. It took a toll on her body and made her want to collapse. In less than a minute, her soul bead was drained and she had nothing more to offer. Dizziness assaulted her. She felt liquid spilling from her nostrils. It was too much magic for a witch to use so quickly, and her body suffered from the toll of the stress.

  “You won’t hurt him,” she mumbled. Her eyes were tearing. Blood and dirt was on her skin from scraping herself while running away. “You… won’t…” She gasped out one final cry, trying to will more magic, but her beads sat empty on her hip. She fell to the ground, next to Edrienne.

  It would be so easy to simply close her eyes and cave in…

  Seeing the smirk on the dragon lit up her rage. A fire sputtered in her. She didn’t want to let the creature win. But she couldn’t protect herself, nor Edrienne.

  The monster lifted a claw. It beckoned to her.

  Immediately, her muscles tightened and contorted. Her body felt like it was being ripped to shreds. It wasn’t long before she figured out what was happening. Her soul was being taken away.

  This dragon… had magic?

  The dragon was harvesting her. Bits and pieces of her were being torn away at an excruciating pace. Every part of her fought to resist it. Her mind began to leave her body despite the pain. She threw her head back and shrieked. Her vision was starting to blur. The anguish was akin to having needles forced beneath her nails, ten times over. She wanted it to end as quickly as possible. But the dragon took its time in ripping her soul away.

  “No…” she heard Edrienne whisper. He was floating beside her. She watched as his soul left his body. His eyes dimmed. Somehow, watching his life fade away was more painful than feeling her soul being torn apart.

  The harvesting corrupted her essence into something vile. She didn’t want to become that… that… force of evil. She was turning into magic so malevolent, she couldn’t imagine what destruction her soul would wreak.

  She detested seeing herself morphing into pure wickedness.

  With her remaining strength, she turned to look into her killer’s eyes. Its pupils shone with the hatred she’d memorized over many years.

  She gasped.

  She recognized this dragon.

  Her sister.

  The revelation spiraled through her, but it came too late. She felt the last of her essence slip away, and her head fell limply onto the ashen ground.

  Chapter 16

  Stray strands of hair beat on Rayse’s face. He brushed them aside.

  He paced in front of the graves of the victims. Karona’s headstone stood at the very front. The poor bastard’s head had been lopped off a long time ago. Rayse crouched down, closer to the ground, and lifted his hand to graze the marker. It had been carved out of dragon stone. His men had buried them away from the others—criminals did not have the luxury of being amongst the common folk, even in death. They stood lonely in the afterlife, an hour’s flight away from Dragon Keep.

  “Have I wronged you?” he asked.

  His fingers trailed over the empty slab. No words had been written on it to commend Karona’s life, for what could one say about a man who had killed his own spouse?

  The twilight sun cast an orange yellow across the sky. He pushed himself up, letting his boots crunch against the gravel, and frowned in thought. These men hadn’t been lying about what they saw. He assumed it had been trickery of the mind, a false sight they had seen in their delirium, but Constance had truly been at those scenes. He had witnessed her yesterday, staring at him with her unmistakable caramel eyes before turning in the other direction and making her escape.

  Why did she hide from him? They were not supposed to keep secrets.

  The fake bond…

  She had been hiding such an important fact from him for months. Perhaps it was a symptom of the real problem—a string of lies and untruths. Had her days with her been a facade?

  He turned his gaze away from the gravestones and beat his black wings against the calm winds. His mind was still in a jumbled mess as he made his way home. He glided to a stop and lowered himself onto the grounds of Dragon Keep.

  One of his clan member’s eyes met his. She was accompanied by her child. “Don’t stare at him,” she told her son. She briskly ushered the little boy into their thatched home.

  Rayse ignored the sight and ambled up to the keep. Piles of reports and documents lay waiting for him on the top floor, in his study. He ought to take a look at them. Since Constance’s disappearance, he had a
voided his duties, and they had piled up. Maybe burying himself into the papers would calm his uncertain mind.

  What was the point of doing that, however? His clan was starting to become a shell of what it had been. He doubted simple logistics could make much of a difference.

  Shen waited for him in the dim room. His back was turned to Rayse. The glow of the moon silhouetted Shen’s frame against the window.

  “What is it?” Rayse asked.

  Shen spun around. “We’ve found her, milord.”

  Rayse’s heart thumped so hard that he thought it would explode from his chest.

  “You don’t have to shift, milord. She’s nearby.”

  Rayse’s talons had already lengthened, and his dragon was thrumming with renewed exuberance. He called his beast back, but summoned his wings. Shen lifted into the air. Rayse followed his friend in a hurry, his mind racing.

  “Did she simply appear?” Rayse asked.

  “One of our patrols reported finding her an hour ago. I’ve been waiting for your return since. They found her in the snow.”

  “The snow? And where is she now?”

  “Your home, milord.”

  Shen came to a stop. Rayse had been so frantic that he didn’t even look at his surroundings. They had indeed halted in front of his house. She was home? His mind couldn’t fathom that.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  “You might want to see for yourself, milord.”

  He licked his lips in anticipation, called his wings back, and pushed the door open. He stepped into the living room. His boots knocked against the wooden floorboard. The steps creaked as he went up to the second floor. He turned toward his bedroom. Shen followed behind him. Rayse held his breath and stepped closer to his bed.

  It was dark. The sun had just set. The windows were open, and a light breeze blew against his curtains, lifting them.

  This room had been empty for the last few weeks. He couldn’t stand being in the same room he’d shared with her. It was a painful reminder of her absence.

  He scanned the room and his gaze met his bed. It had remained unmade since Constance’s disappearance.

  But now, lying in there, almost like an angel, was his little fire.

  Nanili hung like a shadow over his mate. The mishram wore a strange frown, which he noted without much thought. Greta sat on a chair next to the bed, watching over Constance as well. The old woman greeted him with a solemn nod.

  Constance wasn’t as lively as she had been the day before. In fact, she looked like she had lost a sizable amount of weight in the short span. Her cheeks were sunken in, and her skin had turned to a pale yellow. He picked up her hand, his heart dropping at the sensation of touching her, and saw how bony she had become.

  What had happened to her?

  Her eyelids were shut tight and twitching, as if she were having a vivid dream.

  “We found her like this,” Shen said. “She was unconscious the whole time, and wouldn’t wake no matter how much we tried. She was in the same location we had found her soul beads and blood.”

  “She reappeared out of nowhere?”

  “Yes.”

  “How’s her condition?” Rayse asked Greta.

  The old dragon sighed. “The pumpkin definitely isn’t healthy.”

  “When will she wake?”

  “When the spell that the poison enabled is over. I cannot say.”

  “I need to know.”

  Greta fingered her scarf. “I’m sorry, Rayse. I really have no clue. She… she might not wake. Her body might not be able to keep up with the long slumber. She’s at a breaking point, and if she doesn’t come to consciousness soon, I’m afraid her condition will be dire.”

  He sat on the bed, next to Constance, careful not to crush her. She looked like she would break with the smallest gust of wind. He took her hand in his. It was so thin—much thinner than it had been the last time they touched. He sucked in a guilty breath, feeling his chest tightening, and feathered his lips over her hand.

  Her body had returned, but not her mind.

  “Come back to me soon, little fire,” he pleaded.

  Marzia shivered. A howl echoed in the distance. She brought the meat of the hare to her lips and tore it from its bones. It tasted overcooked. She missed the delicacies in Dragon Keep, and the cooking from her mishram. Constance had been such a good host, and even though Marzia didn’t deserve it, she longed for the companionship of her friend once more.

  How many days had she been living in fear?

  The Dragon Mother hadn’t come for her. Not yet. But Fraser hadn’t responded either. She checked her sparrow-vellum and wrote to him daily. No responses had appeared on the wretched parchment. She had almost crushed it in frustration and tossed it aside, but stopped herself before she did something so rash.

  The hare was too chewy, and tasted like hard rubber. If not for her growling stomach, she would have spit it out.

  “Leave me alone,” she muttered to the voices in her head. “Honestly, you’re not even making any sense.” Her teeth chattered in between bites.

  Another howl sounded. They were getting closer. Her guts twisted. “Don’t think too much about it,” she said, not certain if she was talking to herself, or the man whispering nonsense in her mind. She reminded herself that the barrier would protect her.

  A snarl reached her ears. She pried her eyes from the campfire and toward the cave’s entrance. A bestial silhouette blocked the light coming from the moon.

  She froze.

  She threw her morsel at the beast to try and appease it. It ignored the pathetic-looking piece of bone and continued to stalk forward.

  Where was her cloaking spell on the cave? Had it run out? She hadn’t put it back up since her failed murder attempt. She thought the barrier would last for at least another week. She wanted to save her souls for something direr.

  Something like this.

  She kept as quiet as she could, as if silence could stop the beast from ripping apart her flesh.

  Then, in a blur of emotions, she rushed to her bag to fish out her soul beads. Her sparrow-vellum rolled out as she did. It rode a breeze to the fire. Her heart dipped, and without thinking, she reached for the parchment to keep it from burning. It was the wrong move. She couldn’t talk to Fraser if she were dead.

  The wolf pierced its canines into her ankle. She shrieked in pain.

  She struggled against the bite, but that only made its teeth sink deeper. She blinked back tears as agony shot up her leg.

  More growling rumbled from the entrance. A scream lodged into her throat as she saw more ferocious creatures prowling into the cave. They were going to eat her alive.

  She closed her eyes and awaited her end.

  Animal noises played around her. She readied for the pain, for the clenching of their jaws over her flesh, for her blood to splatter onto the cavern walls and for wails to be torn from her throat.

  They didn’t come.

  “Love?”

  She was panting, fear leaking out from her in sweat despite the cold temperature. She dared to open her eyes.

  “Fraser?”

  She glanced down. The wolf in front of her was dead. A hole had been punched through its torso, and blood stained its white fur. She pried its head from her foot and gingerly pulled her leg away. Her wound was sending stinging sensations up her leg.

  “You’re injured,” Fraser said, crouching to her and setting down his sword. “But thank goodness you’re alive. I’ve been looking all over for you.” He tore a piece of fabric from his shirt and begun wrapping her ankle.

  She looked up at him in disbelief. His clothes looked new, and were crisp at the edges, but some red stains had splattered from the wolves and marred them. The Mother hadn’t lied when she said she would take care of Fraser. Marzia stroked his face with the palm of her hand, not quite believing his presence was real.

  “But how?” she asked.

  “We don’t have much time,” he said, still busying hims
elf with her injury.

  “Fraser, look at me.” She stared into his eyes. Marzia felt like she was floating, despite the pain on her ankle reminding her of reality. She pulled him into a kiss. His lips fell on hers. She moaned, letting waves of pleasure and bliss pulse through her. The voices in her head stopped. She wrapped her arms around him, trying to calm the pool of emotions swirling in her. She breathed in his sweet scent, feeling giddy with joy.

  “I’ve been dreaming of this,” she said, smiling.

  He returned her smile, but a look of urgency replaced it quickly. “We don’t have much time, love. We have to go back to Rayse and Constance.”

  Her heart plummeted. “What? No? They’ll kill us.”

  “What are you talking about? Rayse is an old friend. He’ll do his best to protect us. The Dragon Mother is after us. She let me go, but asked me to run. She likes to chase her prey.”

  “We can’t go back.”

  “They’re our best chance, love. Constance is the only witch around here who has the potential to rival the Mother.”

  “She can’t! We’re talking about the Mother here. Constance can’t do anything against her.”

  “She can cast a cloaking spell or something. We have to hide.” Fraser cradled her in his arms. “Quickly.”

  She clutched his shirt. “We can’t go back. Rayse will skin me alive.”

  Fraser frowned. “What did you do, love?”

  “I’ve…” She looked away. “I did it to keep you safe. You have to know that.”

  He stopped in his tracks. “What did you do?”

  “I’ve killed people. Harvested their souls and pinned the crimes on Constance. I did it for the Mother. She said she would spare you if I did as told, and she gave me the sparrow-vellum to talk to you.”

  “You used… you used black magic?”

  “I did it to protect you.”

  “Oh, love.”

  She chanced a gaze at Fraser’s face. Incredulity and wariness was written over it.

  Her lower lip quivered. “I poisoned Constance, too.”

  “Can you hide us from the Mother?”