Silver and Shadow (The Canath Chronicles Book 2)

by S. M. Gaither

  “Well, the last adventure like that was kind of fun,” he says with a shrug.

  I snort. “But the ending sucked.”

  “Let’s call that a turning point instead. The ‘black moment’ of the play—seemed like the ending, but it really wasn’t.”

  “So we should be getting close to the resolution by now, right?”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  I cast a look at our dreary surroundings, at those dark clouds covering the strange moon and obscuring the ominous red light it casts.

  I have my doubts.

  “I miss the stars,” I think out loud. I draw my knees up to my chest and rest my head on them, holding in a sigh. A breeze, still heavy with that storm that always seems to be building here but never unleashing, stirs, and it pulls away the strands of my hair that were sticking to the dried tears on my face.

  And then a tiny pinprick of light appears far above my head, followed by another. And then another. Soon there are dozens of them sweeping faint constellations across the sky. Then waves of deep blue begin to spread behind them, like paint spilling across the backdrop of burgundy clouds and making those stars stand out far more brilliantly.

  My own personal galaxy.

  It would astound me, except…We’ve been here before.

  And it didn’t end well—it ended in that aforementioned ‘black moment’.

  “The last time you started making stars for me, it was right before you tricked me and ripped that key out of my body. And I’m sort of over having keys ripped out of me, just so you know.”

  He shakes his head. “It ends differently this time.”

  I bite my lip, but he and his magic are insistent, and I can’t help but watch him work.

  Turns out last time was only a glimpse, the tiniest preview of what he could really do.

  I get to my feet and stare in awe as the illusion stretches higher, wraps more fully around us until all of the dismal shades of red and black are out of sight. It reminds me of clear, cold nights in the mountains back home, far away from the city or any other source of light pollution, and for a moment I feel like I’m back on Earth—some secret, beautiful place on Earth that hardly anyone knows exists.

  “Okay. For what it’s worth, I guess I forgive you for tricking me,” I say after a few minutes. “And I’ll cut myself from slack for falling for it because…you’re good at these tricks.”

  “I know I am.”

  I tear my eyes away from the beauty above me just as a particularly bright white star goes streaking across the illusion of Earth-like sky.

  I didn’t want to look away, but he isn’t a bad second option to look at.

  Especially the way he’s staring at me. It’s like he isn’t aware that he just created an entire sky full of stars. Like he could create a million more, and still all he would see is me. The swirls of them are shining in his jadestone eyes—the illusion so good that it even casts its own reflection—but aside from getting to his feet and lifting his hand a few inches above his hip, the entire show appears effortless for him.

  “Not everything I do is a trick, though,” he says. “Just for the record.”

  Something in his soft tone makes warmth pool and rise up from deep in my belly. “Show me something that isn’t a trick, then.”

  His hand falls to his side.

  In my peripheral vision I see stars falling, creating a shimmering curtain of light around us as he steps forward, takes me in his arms, and guides my lips to his.

  I close my eyes and lean into the kiss, losing myself in the feel of his tongue tracing mine, of his hands pressing against my skin, of my heart pounding with solid, real desire.

  If this is an illusion, it’s the best damn one he’s created so far.

  It’s convincing enough to take my breath away, to make those illusioned stars spin around us when he finally pulls away a minute later, only to lean back and hungrily pull me back in for one more deep kiss.

  He pulls away slower the second time, letting his forehead rest against mine for a moment and occasionally tilting his face to brush a few soft, lingering kisses across my lips. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his shoulder. He embraces me back with one arm. His other lifts, and his fingers thread through my hair, playfully twisting the tips of it and controlling the stars around us all in the same motion. More balls of light spin to life, showering us in so much light that suddenly it looks like dawn instead of night.

  “I’m impressed enough already,” I say with a quiet laugh. “You should save your strength.”

  He leans back until he can see my face. “What do I need strength for? I’m not the one planning to save the world. I’m just hanging around so I can practice my magic tricks on you.”

  Why do I need strength anymore? When finding my family is apparently a lost cause?

  Is that what he’s really attempting to say? To accept?

  For his sake, I join in the attempt by rolling my eyes. “Well in that case: I demand more shooting stars.”

  He obliges with a smirk and twist of his wrist that sends those dawn-bright lights spilling around us once more.

  But as the stars fall, I catch occasional streaks of red sky behind them, and my heart feels a little bit heavier for every stripe of that truth that I see.

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning, I hover over Liam, staring until he finally blinks his eyes open.

  “Jesus Christ, Elle,” he mutters. He rolls away from me, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Could you not have found a gentler, less creepy way to wake me up?”

  “If I had a lute or something, I would have played it for you. What’s your alarm ringtone now? ‘Hit Me Baby One More Time’?”

  He stops messing with his eyes so he can look up and shoot me a quick glare.

  I grin back.

  One of me and Carys’s favorite things to do when we’re bored is to steal his phone and program his ringtones and alarms to play girly pop songs. Classic Britney Spears is a personal favorite.

  And he can glare all he wants, but he usually ends up laughing about it—and occasionally singing along in as tone-deaf a manner as possible.

  “Just saying. I could have rocked that on the strings. But I haven’t stumbled upon any musical instruments in this world, not yet, so…”

  “Haha. Smartass.” He stretches and runs a hand through his hair, and the moment feels almost normal; he looks the way he always does in the morning before he’s had coffee: disheveled and grumpy but still effortlessly handsome.

  Except perhaps he’s a little grumpier-looking than normal…

  And I could probably guess why.

  I give him my best attempt at a charming smile. “You’re still mad at me for that whole lying to you and jumping recklessly into a parallel universe thing, aren’t you?”

  “I’m still not thrilled about any of it.”

  “Well, you’re in luck, because I have the perfect opportunity for you to take out your frustrations on me.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asks with a yawn.

  “Training session. Just like old times—come on.” I pull him to his feet before he can protest.

  I don’t know what I would do if he said no.

  He’s been my sparring partner pretty much since I could walk. Ever since I was old enough to understand that I could destroy things if I wasn’t careful—but also that I was capable of controlling that dangerous side of me if only I fought hard enough.

  And he’s always been the one to remind me of that last part whenever I needed it.

  Which is why it hurts so badly when he pulls his arm out of my grip, ignoring me in favor of pawing his way through the pile of clean clothing and food Elric left him.

  “I’m really not in the mood,” he says.

  “You were asleep last night when Casandra explained my latest curse, weren’t you?” My eyes fall to my wrist. The key is gone, and the scar it left on its way out is almost invisible now—though something about the
reddish, overcast daylight seems to make the edges of it glow just enough that I can’t ignore it.

  I can feel Liam’s gaze settling on me, but he doesn’t say anything.

  I pull the mark out of sight, fighting the urge to turn and walk away. “I feel like I’m always trying to fix the two of us here lately, and I hate it.”

  “Then stop breaking things.”

  I’m a speechless combination of hurt and angry for a long moment before I manage to say: “I can’t.”

  He grabs a soft, pale green fruit from the pile of food. Chea, Elric called it. A type of fruit that only grows near the river flowing a few miles away from our campsite. I was kind of afraid it might be poison, but it ended up smelling and tasting so good—like a combination of banana and chocolate—that I ate the whole thing anyway. And I’m strongly considering swiping Liam’s too.

  He turns and starts to walk away before I have a chance to, and suddenly delicious-tasting food is the last thing on my mind.

  “I’ve been breaking things—or almost breaking them—since I was born, right?” I call after him. “And while you slept last night, I found out that I have another mark, another key. Another very large chance of breaking down the barrier that’s supposed to keep Earth safe.”

  He stops.

  “While you were asleep, Casandra ripped it out of me. Which is painful as hell, if you were wondering. I don’t recommend hiding keys inside your body. Under the mat makes much more sense, even if it’s a predictable hiding spot.”

  He glances back, giving me that same look he always does when I start to ramble and attempt to joke my way out of terrible situations.

  “Anyway, my point is that I’m not really doing most of this on purpose, okay? I’m just trying to do what I think is right, even though I don’t even halfway understand all of the stuff surrounding my powers or anything else. And what I need to do now is get myself back under control again. I managed it when I first came into this world, and if I don’t manage to keep doing it, we’re all going to be in a lot of trouble.”

  He studies me, and the moment stretches uncomfortably long before he finally says: “Fine. I’ll help.”

  He walks back to my side. I release my first full breath in what feels like forever, and then I attempt to swipe that delicious smelling fruit in his hand.

  He swipes it right back and then proceeds to start eating it while looking perfectly smug about it—further proof that we’re working our way back toward our normal, at least.

  “And I’m sorry for what I said,” he adds.

  “I’m sorry too.”

  “But I still can’t believe you willingly followed that little idiot.”

  “Sometimes I can’t either,” I say with slight smile. “But go easy on him, how about? He has his reasons for being an idiot.”

  Family is one of the few acceptable reasons for acting like an idiot, I think.

  “We’ll see,” Liam says.

  “I told you: Sparring match. Let’s go—and you can take your frustrations out on me instead of him. You know, assuming you can actually hit me.”

  He arches an eyebrow. “No crying if you lose.”

  “One time, I did that. And I was like six. And you were being exceptionally mean.”

  “Pretty sure you were more like twelve, but we’ll keep that between us, I suppose.”

  “If I win, you have to sing ‘Genie in a Bottle’ by Christina Aguilera in its entirety.”

  “I don’t know the words.”

  “I’ve a sneaking suspicion that’s a lie, but doesn’t matter either way.” I give him a cheerful smile. “I’ll write them down for you.”

  “Shouldn’t we just focus on, I don’t know, saving the world or whatever?”

  “So afraid of losing that you can’t make a simple bet? Tsk.”

  He laughs. “I think I’m mostly just afraid you aren’t taking this seriously. And that we all might die because of that.”

  “I haven’t gotten you killed yet, have I?” I point out, making my way toward my makeshift bed. I left my sword beside it, along with the sheath that Elric brought me while I slept—which he apparently obtained from one of those allies they mentioned last night.

  “That’s not a particularly great argument, given our history,” Liam replies, dubiously. But he follows me all the same, and then we make our way a short distance down the mountain until we come to a flat stretch of rocky soil that’s well-hidden by the towering trees. I can hear the gentle rush of a river nearby.

  Carys and Elric are already here, waiting for us. She’s been questioning him relentlessly since she woke up, and judging by the exhausted look on his face, she didn’t stop during the time I spent fetching Liam.

  I expected Casandra to be here, too, but apparently we annoyed her enough that she decided she needed a break from us. Soren is missing as well; asleep at our campsite above—I don’t think he actually went to bed until the sun came up, so I didn’t want to wake him. Plus, Liam is finally starting to show flashes of his usual easygoing self.

  The less there is to possibly disrupt that, the better.

  Elric is holding on to the Earth key; it’s still hanging from his neck on that tarnished metal chain. As soon as I see it, that triumph of the few jokes I managed to make with Liam is abruptly forgotten. The seriousness of the situation we’ve found ourselves in hits me once more, and a chill races over my skin. The same uneasy energy seems to race through the key as well, because it lifts away from Elric’s chest, hovering for a moment before settling back down as I take a deep breath.

  Elric glances down at it as it trembles, and then he glances knowingly up at me. “You’re uneasy.”

  I can’t really deny it, can I?

  “Why do her emotions still have such a strong effect on it?” Carys asks.

  “It’s part of the key’s magic; it ‘senses’ her distress, and it desires to take control of the situation. She is a guardian of the key, but in many ways the key is also a guardian of her—because it can’t exist fully without her. The magic of it wants to exist along with all of her other power, so that the two can combine to present the most formidable version of her possible.”

  “So it wants back in her possession,” Liam says, sounding as weirded out as I feel as I watch it start to move again, tilting so the emblem is pointing in my direction.

  Elric responds with a nod, and then unhooks the chain attached to it and holds it out to me. “If we’re going to practice keeping you in control while you also wield the key, then it’s going to require you to actually wield that key.”

  “Like…back inside me?”

  “That will ultimately, eventually be the safest place for it, yes. So that’s how we should practice.”

  I feel instantly queasy at the thought. “What’re the chances that it’s going to be less painful going in than it was coming out?”

  “It’s possible? I don’t know. I don’t have a ton of experience with this.”

  I sigh. “Just get it over with, then.”

  “Hold out your hand again.”

  I do as I’m told. He places the key in the center of my palm. It’s so heavy that I have to brace my wrist with my other hand to keep it from bending. The longer that weight sits in my hand, the warmer it grows, until it’s so hot that I wouldn’t be surprised if it melted its way through my skin.

  “Try to will it to become a part of you once more. It will help if you relax as much as you can.”

  Oh yeah, that last part should be super easy, given the circumstances, I think. But I manage to keep my sarcasm to myself for once.

  It’s slow—the absorption process or whatever. But, perhaps because I’m better rested and prepared, or maybe because I was expecting it to be unbearably painful, it actually doesn’t hurt that bad. Not any worse than the time I let Carys conduct an experiment involving my hands, a pile of rocks, and a bottle of super glue (for Science, obviously—and also because I was not a particularly smart five-year-old).

  And I d
on’t pass out like I did last night, at least.

  With Elric occasionally redirecting my focus, I actually manage to make the key slide up to my wrist and then disappear into my skin.

  I almost laugh in surprise.

  When Elric backs away a second later, the key is still making itself known via angry red lines on my skin, but it feels relatively secure inside me; its weight is gone, and my mind is somewhat clear.

  “If you start to lose your grip on things,” Elric warns, “I’ll have to rip the key out quickly—before it can react in such a way that it gives our current camp’s location away. Understood?”

  “Got it.”

  “Now, as for your weapons we’ll be training with…You have many talents.”

  “I tell her that all the time,” Carys says.

  “Debatable,” Liam says with a grin.

  Elric clears his throat. “Shifting is one, obviously. I hear you’re also talented with a blade. And I sense an enormous amount of untapped magic in you. This last one will be your most useful weapon in this world, but you have to be careful, because the queen’s minions are able to track magical energy, as we discussed—so we have to find ways of cloaking it.”

  “Cloaking it?”

  “Illusion magic—like your other friend favors— usually leaves little to no trace,” he says. “But elemental magic is easily tracked.”

  “So I’ll just stick to my sword,” I say, happy to have an excuse to grab it from the tree I’d propped it against.

  Elric’s brow knits together as he studies that sword closer, causing the tiny wrinkles around his eyes to appear more pronounced. “This is a fine sword. A sentient zana blade—it absorbs your desires and actually varies in its abilities based on its wielder’s thoughts.”

  “I’ve noticed it changing colors and stuff. I just thought it was neat.”

  He shakes his head. “A fine sword, as I said—but it alone will not be enough to defeat the creatures who will be looking for you now that you’ve revealed the Earth mark.” He looks thoughtful. “We may be able to use it to channel your magic into something that can’t be as easily traced, however… May I borrow it for a minute?”