Shadow's Edge

by Maureen Lipinski

  “What are you talking about? Are you sure it didn’t have any swirly swoopy designs on it? Or a black orchid flower latch on the front?” I said, my voice growing raspy.

  “No, sorry. Nothing like that. I think it might’ve even been a FedEx box, now that I think about it. You know, there is a mailing station in my stepdad’s building.” I could hear a scratching sound behind her words, the sound of a nail file.

  “Thanks,” I whispered as I snapped my cell phone shut.

  One more dead end.

  The last dead end.

  I allowed myself to fall back onto the snowy ground, blocking out Slade’s questions and the darkness that his figure cast across me. I thought of my sisters, laughing and fighting inside. Rhea complaining about her wardrobe. Gia weaving her hair into a braid. Morgana tucking her long legs underneath her as she scratched Doppler.

  I have failed them all.

  Failed everyone. Everything.

  Everything is lost.

  The nothingness will overtake the Other Realm and creep into ours.

  It will destroy all of us.

  And I am to blame.

  My cell phone, still in my hand, cut into my thoughts as it buzzed. I don’t know why I decided to answer it.

  “Hey Brooke,” I said flatly, bringing my arm up to cover my eyes. The snow was beginning to seep into my collar, but I didn’t feel the chill.

  “Listen, you said something about a flower latch, right?” she asked.

  I whipped into a sitting position. “Yeah?”

  “I’ve seen a box like that before. I only remember because it was really strange looking and I couldn’t stop staring at it,” she said.

  My heart began to pound. “This is really important, Brooke. Where did you see it?”

  “Well, when I saw it, the box was in Gregg’s office. Why are you so interested in the box?” I could hear her tapping on her computer in the background.

  I cocked the phone away from my mouth and looked at Slade, nodding my head. I brought the phone back to my lips, still making eye contact with him. “Listen, Brooke. Where is Gregg’s office building? It’s really important we get ahold of that box. Do you have keys to the office?”

  “I think the keys are in the spare bedroom, but why? What do you think is in the box?” Brooke asked.

  I looked at Slade, eyes wide. His dark eyes narrowed. “Um. I think there’s evidence of the affair in it,” I said. “We have to get it.”

  “Really? Great! But I doubt the box is in that building anymore. I overheard him telling my mom that they moved most of their stuff into a big office in one of the clubs they own in the city. It’s called Embrace.”

  I exhaled loudly and waved my arms around in front of Slade.

  Of course. Of course it wouldn’t be easy. As if anything ever is for me.

  I can save them all.

  I sighed. “Brooke, get dressed. We’re sneaking into a club tonight. Meet me outside Embrace in a half hour, with whatever keys you can find.”

  Twenty-Six

  So, I’m here. But how do we get in?” Brooke asked as I

  walked up to Embrace.

  The blue-white neon lights of the sign outside the club cast a soft glow over hordes of people waiting behind a velvet rope, and a scary-looking bouncer guarded the door with a clipboard.

  “Well, I doubt we can sneak in, since … ” I looked down at the jeans and long-sleeved white shirt I was wearing. Although still dressed in my clothes from school on Monday, I hadn’t dared go into my house before heading to the club, lest I become embroiled in a conversation with my family about How I Need to Find This Box, Like, Real Bad instead of actually looking for it.

  “Why is your sister’s boyfriend here?” Brooke pointed to Slade.

  He’d insisted on coming with me to Embrace, claiming he was too involved already and wanted to help. I’d acquiesced, thinking he could be a lookout if nothing else.

  “He wants to help,” I said, and shrugged. Slade gave Brooke a strange wave in an attempt to appear friendly. And also human.

  “I think sneaking in is definitely out of the question.” Brooke pointed to the massive line filled with protesting people holding up money, bribery their last shot

  at entrance.

  “What about there?” Slade gestured toward a side entrance where a white van was parked. A group of tattooed men were unloading instruments from the van and carrying them inside.

  I turned to Brooke. “Looks like we’re going to be

  roadies.”

  “What? Do you think that will actually work?” She asked, her mouth open a little as she watched the men scurry back and forth.

  “Has to,” I said, starting to walk toward the van.

  Slade and Brooke followed me, like little ducklings following their mom.

  I approached two tall, beastly men who were carrying amps inside, smiled at them, and followed them. Without question. They didn’t even look up as we filed inside.

  Victory.

  Once we were inside, the pulsing walls, vibrating from the awful house music that was playing in the bar, enveloped us, as did the darkness. My eyes still adjusting to the dark,

  I stopped.

  “I bet the office is down this way.” I pointed down a long hallway with a sign for the bathrooms. “C’mon Brooke,” I said, grabbing her arm. “Slade, stay here. Make some friends.” I smiled at him. His features were unrecognizable in the dark, but I’m sure he could see us, thanks to his fantastical Dark Créatúir Night Vision Skills.

  Brooke and I walked down the hallway, past a girl on her cell phone crying because her boyfriend just spilled a drink on her, past a couple making out (and possibly more; I couldn’t exactly tell), to a door at the end of the corridor.

  Brooke reached into her purse and pulled out a key ring. She tried a few before one easily inserted into the metal lock.

  “Here goes,” she said as she turned the doorknob.

  I flipped on the light as I closed the door behind us. The office was deserted, piled high with moving boxes, office furniture, and computer wires.

  “See it anywhere?” I said, peeking around the boxes and file folders.

  Brooke crouched behind a desk. “There’s a bunch of stuff over here,” she called out, her voice muffled.

  I looked around, lifting up keyboards and pushing aside scattered lampshades.

  Until I saw a glint underneath a desk. I bent down, the glint growing brighter the closer I got to it. It was a box with scrolls on it.

  And an orchid flower latch.

  I picked it up and put it on the desk. “I think I … ”

  The box began to open, its contents starting to float upward.

  Suddenly, the office door swung open. I quickly grabbed what was floating up and shoved it into my pocket, tossing the first thing I saw on the desk into the box instead.

  “What are you doing?” said a voice from the doorway.

  Melissa.

  “Uh … ” I froze.

  “Leah?” Melissa said.

  I heard a tiny rustle in the corner and realized that Brooke was hidden from view.

  I straightened up and cleared my throat. “I came here to protect the box. We can’t have any information about the Treasures getting out now, can we? What are you doing here?”

  Melissa’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know it was here?”

  “I—I—just figured it would be,” I stammered.

  “Oh, good thinking.” She leaned forward and grabbed the box off of the desk and tucked it under her arm. “Still on board with the plan?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Yep. One hundred percent, I’m with you.”

  “Good. I’m glad we’re working together on this. Soon we’ll both be free.” She cackle
d, the reptilian glow returning to her eyes. She walked out of the office, the box now under her right arm. “See you on Samhain, Leah.”

  The door shut behind her and Brooke popped up, her face contorted. “What was that? Are you helping her with something? Is she still your friend?”

  “No, no!” I shook my head violently.

  “What’s going on, then?” Brooke asked.

  “Leah! Melissa is here!” Slade walked into the office. He pushed his hair off his forehead and shut the door behind him.

  “Yeah, just saw her. Thanks. Good lookout.” I shot him a withering glance.

  “What’s her problem?” Slade said, pointing to Brooke, whose face was nearly turning purple.

  “She’s confused,” I said. I looked at Slade, my eyes pleading. He shook his head.

  Brooke stood up and wiped her face with her hand. “I’m going home. I’m just going to ask Gregg what the hell is going on.” She started toward the door.

  “No! Brooke! You can’t!” I said.

  Slade moved in front of the door and blocked her exit.

  Brooke turned back to me. “I can. This is ridiculous.”

  I looked at Slade again, this time raising my eyebrows, silently communicating what we both knew: if Brooke talked to her stepdad, it would all be over.

  Slade slowly looked at Brooke, his eyes penetrating through her. He looked back at me and deliberately closed his eyes, giving his permission.

  “Brooke, sit down. You’re going to need to”—I stopped and exhaled—“not be standing to hear some of this,” I concluded.

  Despite her new mistrust and emotional state, Brooke did what I asked and perched on a desk chair.

  I exhaled again and put my hands in my jeans pocket. I told her everything.

  Everything—well, at least the CliffsNotes version.

  “And him?” I gestured my elbow toward Slade. “He’s a Dark Créatúir. A shapeshifter, if you want to get specific.”

  Brooke shook her head, not absorbing anything I’d just said. She looked like she couldn’t decide whether to ask if the Tooth Fairy would leave her some money when she got her wisdom teeth pulled or start proceedings for my unwilling commitment at the nuthouse.

  I shook my head, defeated. Then I looked at Slade, eyes soft.

  Slade turned to Brooke and stepped in front of her. He closed his eyes and began to glow a deep purple. Wisps of smoke curled from his body as he shed his human form. Layer upon layer of dark shadows fell away from his form, contorting and distorting his features.

  And when the smoke subsided, a wolf with the exact same eye color as Slade crouched in front of Brooke.

  She stifled a scream and cringed, and Slade quickly shifted back into his human form. He peered down at Brooke, whose mind was clearly exploding.

  “Brooke?” I said gently.

  Her head turned to me, her mouth still slightly open. “I—” Her voice caught in her throat. She closed her mouth and looked down at her hands, twisted them in her lap. “But—how—I mean—can they be affected by us … ” she stuttered softly.

  Understanding what she meant, I walked over and crouched down in front of her. “There’s a thin veil between our worlds, Brooke,” I said gently. “What we do here affects them. It’s like … ” I scanned my brain for a comparison. “You know when your jeans are really thin in the knees and a hole appears?”

  Brooke’s eyes narrowed at my lame comparison.

  “Um, okay … uh … ” I scanned the desk next me, looking for some kind of teaching prop. I grabbed a blue pushpin. I jabbed Brooke in the leg quickly, through

  her pants.

  “OW!” she shrieked, and rubbed her thigh. “What the hell?”

  “Sorry. It was to prove a point. You felt that, right? On your leg. Even though you’re wearing pants.”

  “Hell yeah, I felt that,” she shrieked. “Are you—”

  I gripped her hand. “It’s an analogy. The Créatúir can feel the pushpin. Especially where the pants are thin.” It sounded so great in my mind, but when I heard myself say “the pants are thin” I nearly started laughing. I guess I shouldn’t bank on a perfect score on the verbal skills portion of the SAT.

  Despite the lame comparison, Brooke nodded. “When I was little, I could’ve sworn the boogeyman was real. I tried to tell my parents, but they never believed me. But I just knew that there was something living in my closet.”

  “Oh yeah. Zenoph. He’s pretty ugly, but he’s really a nice guy. He feels really bad about having to scare little kids into staying in bed.” I smiled reassuringly. “Same with the Loch Ness monster. Thin veil there, too. Just likes to swim in Loch Ness, I guess.” I shrugged and grinned at Brooke. “So, believe me yet?”

  Twenty-Seven

  So what are you going to do about Alex?” Brooke asked.

  I shrugged, my heart growing heavy. “Not sure. I don’t think he knows anything, but I’m not sure he’ll ever accept me. Accept that I’m diff—” My voice cracked.

  We stood silently, aware that the pulsing house music had stopped.

  “I knew my stepdad was a jerk. I just didn’t think he was a murderer,” Brooke said quietly. “I thought he was having an affair, not summoning evil spirits with that strange Melissa girl.”

  I gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry you got involved in all of this.”

  “She took the box, right?” she asked.

  I knew her mind was still exploding all over the place at this new information, with good reason, but I really didn’t have time to talk her through her lingering disbelief or run another Other Realm 101 lesson.

  “The box, yeah. But not what was inside,” I said with a smile. I reached into my pocket and out floated a paper.

  “Whoa,” Brooke whispered, looking at the glowing document drifting in front of me.

  I gingerly leaned in to examine it. It was about the size of a loose-leaf page of paper, and seriously faded. I could only make out the depiction of four figures holding objects that reflected light. The light was directed toward a dark mass in the upper right-hand corner of the scroll. Written around the torn edges was faded, ancient

  Créatúir language.

  Moving closer and squinting my eyes, I read out loud: “When the light turned to night, on the night of Samhain—Samhain is Halloween,” I said to Brooke, then turned back to the scroll. “Night of Samhain, the Fomoriians were seen. These four treasures here—the Stone of Fal, the Spear of Destiny, the Sword of Nuada, and Dagda’s Cauldron—defeated the evil and drove it back to the sea. Peace was restored to the mystical realms.”

  On each side of the page, there was a chant to invoke the treasures: Stone, Spear, Sword, Cauldron. Let thy power come to me.

  I leaned in further, until the four figures holding the Four Treasures came more clearly into focus. It was four women. A crest symbol was above their heads.

  “That looks li—” I inhaled sharply and stood up. My hand flew up to my mouth as my head jerked to Slade.

  “What? What is it?”

  “But—what—I don’t—” I leaned in closer and looked at the crest again.

  It was a shield with long twig branches delicately laced around a sword. The letter O was faintly visible in the center of the shield. The O’Donough family crest. My family symbol—the same crest that hung in the foyer.

  “Can you defeat the Fomoriians?” Slade asked.

  I turned to him and squared my shoulders. “Yeah,

  I can.”

  “But where will you find the Four Treasures?” He raised his thin eyebrows.

  “I won’t have to look far at all,” I whispered.

  The band had started playing by the time we left Embrace—a sort of punk rock band playing traditional Irish music. The lead singer was growling into the microph
one as heavy guitar and bagpipes played behind him. A bunch of drunks were dancing around in front of the stage, attempting to do an Irish jig.

  “I’m Michael Flatley, Lord of the Dance!” one of the drunks shrieked as we walked by.

  We were nearly to the front door when a wasted portly woman, dressed in a “Kiss Me, I’m Irish,” T-shirt covered in shamrocks, rubbed up against Slade.

  “Heysh theeere, honey!” she slurred. She burped. “Whooshpe!”

  Slade looked at me, ignoring the woman who was shaking her top half all over him. “You’re Irish. How do you not find this offensive?” He pointed to her T-shirt.

  I shrugged and gestured toward the door.

  “Watch out for the trolls and faeries,” Brooke said to the woman. She winked at me.

  “Honey, you’re preachin’ to the choir! Every guy here is either a loser or gay,” I heard one of Drunk Woman’s friends say.

  Twenty-Eight

  Thank god you’re home! I was so worried,” Gia said as she set the table for dinner the next night. “Did the Créatúir try to keep you there?” She placed a plate down on the table and shook her long blond hair out.

  “Er, not really,” I said, walking over to the fridge. I pulled a bottle of water out and took a long swig. “Sorry I didn’t say hi before school this morning.”

  Gia nodded. “It’s okay. I was busy helping a lonely author figure out how to write the climax of his book. It was awesome.”

  I smiled at her and remained silent. Although her project sounded pretty intense, I figured that visiting the mystical dimension was slightly more stressful.

  “Feeling better?” my mom asked as she walked into the kitchen and put her arm around my shoulders. She hadn’t yet tried to talk to me about my visit to the Other Realm.

  “Not really,” I admitted, slumping down into a chair.

  “You look like garbage,” Rhea said as she shuffled into the kitchen, Slade trailing behind her. “Mom, he’s staying for dinner,” she announced.

  Slade and I made eye contact, then quickly looked away.