Nascent Shadow (Temporal Armistice Book 1)

by Matthew S. Cox

  “I think this is the spot,” I say.

  Lawrence resumes driving, following the road into the magical wilderness. I sit up straight and stare out at the trees, wondering if I’ll see something strange like centaurs, unicorns, goblins, or the like. Alas, I spot nothing more bizarre than a couple streakers running around. The guy’s got enough body hair not to need clothes. Judging by the flowers in the girl’s hair, they’re probably some combination of college students, vegans, hippies, potheads, or eco warriors.

  The road brings us to an open area that’s almost a parking lot. Two large, one-story buildings flank it, and a bunch of vendor tents take up the space between them except for a walkpath leading into the village. At a quick glance, they seem to be selling food, drinks, ‘see the invisible’ glasses, and funny hats. One’s got a load of stuffed animals. Guess they get a lot of tourists.

  “Looks like we’re on foot from here,” says Lawrence.

  I stretch in the seat and a yawn crawls up from the depths of my soul. “Yeah. Unless they rent horses or something.”

  He finds a parking space, not difficult considering the lot’s empty and there’s no lines.

  More locals emerge from the ‘back rooms’ of the booths to check us out. Must be the emergency vehicle and uniforms. A few even appear in the windows of the visitor’s center on the right. Two guys in blue tunics and beat-up sandals push housekeeping carts around the other large building, a motel. Yes. Tunics. A pair of dudes dressed like medieval peasants are pushing plastic carts with mops, mini vacuums, and various cleaning supplies.

  Oh, boy. I haven’t had enough LSD to do this justice. I whistle and shake my head while shoving the SUV door shut. After a moment to soak in the surroundings―almost everyone is dressed like we’ve gone back in time―I take a few steps and meet Lawrence in front of our truck.

  “Where to from here, boss?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “This is your show, kid. I’m way out of my element.”

  “What is your element?” I grin. “Earth or Air?”

  Lawrence shakes his head, smiling. “Neither. My element is a nice soft sofa and a cold beer.”

  “This is magic stuff.” With a sigh, I start toward the walkpath leading in. “Evidently, I’m psychic. Not the same. I’m as clueless as you are.”

  He trots up beside me and slows to match my pace. “Aha, yes, but you are something. I’m plain ol’ Lawrence Ellis. You’re at least closer to this stuff.”

  Heh.

  From the parking area, we walk up a mild hill to a flat courtyard at the end of a curve. A fountain at the center is alive with three statues: a nude elf woman, a male faun, and a dragon. The elf and faun are about waist high to an adult, and the dragon’s on par with a brown bear for size. All are completely white, and probably made of stone, yet they walk around as if real. While the dragon ‘breathes’ water into the basin, the elf pours it from her vase, and the faun’s flute projects streams whenever he ‘plays.’

  Dozens of vendor carts are scattered around as well as along three other paths leading deeper into the settlement. The central trail leads off to what I imagine is the village proper, full of oddly-shaped huts and homes, probably where the locals reside. Why anyone would want to live so far removed from technology, I can’t even imagine.

  A tortoiseshell calico cat gives me a strange stare.

  “What?” I ask it.

  The cat tears off into the weeds so fast tiny clods of grass fly off its feet.

  Oops. Guess it sees my horns somehow.

  That reminds me. I still need to talk to Mom.

  I stop, stare at Lawrence, and concentrate on the image of the woman we’re looking for, trying to push it into his head.

  “You all right? Look like you’re about ready to mess yourself.” Lawrence chuckles. “You tryin’ ta do something?”

  Shit. I slouch, exhaling from the exertion. “Yeah. Trying to share the woman I saw with you. Guess you didn’t see anything?”

  “Only a bit of color in your face.” He grins.

  “Guess I’m a one-way radio then.” I fold my arms and look around. There’s still the old-fashioned way.

  The closest vendor, a skinny thirty-something with long brown hair and a bushy mustache, stands behind a cart covered in penguins. Not actual penguins, mostly potato-sized figurines. A few outliers are two inches tall or the size of watermelons, but for the most part, they’re about as big as a man’s fist. He’s got a black top hat on along with a wizard’s robe, and brass-rimmed spectacles.

  I approach. Oh, this is going to be weird.

  “Hello and welcome to Malidore the Magnificent’s Penguin Emporium! Can I interest you in a Spheniscidal companion? Or perhaps a war-penguin? Wait!”―he holds up a hand at me as if stopping traffic―“I know exactly what you’re in need of.” He picks up a squat, pudgy statue with a comically oversized beak. “This is my Magnum Opus.”

  “Your what?”

  “Forty-four caliber.” With a giant grin, he indicates two rather large nostril holes in the massive beak.

  “Uhh, no thanks. I don’t need any weaponized flightless waterfowl,” I say. “We’re here on official business with the Philadelphia Fire Department.”

  “Oh.” He sets the ‘gun-guin’ down and indicates a ten-inch bird, which pivots its head to look at me. “Perhaps I could interest you in one of the Kings?” His eyes narrow with playful suspicion. “They’re my bestsellers. Everyone hates cleaning their house, right? These little guys do all sorts of stuff. Pick up clothes, do laundry, clean the floors…”

  “Interesting, but… one, I probably can’t afford that, and two, I’m on duty right now.”

  Lawrence sidles up beside me, browsing the penguins. “They’re kinda cute.”

  “Ahh, a connoisseur?” asks Malidore the Magnificent.

  I’m shocked he didn’t throw a ‘the great’ in there too.

  “Heh, not rightly.” Lawrence grins. “Magic an’ me don’t get along too well.”

  “Can you tell me where I might be able to find a woman who sells crystals? She’s older, maybe sixty. Grey hair, shoulder long. Likes blue.” I glance down at the king penguin statue. It waves at me. Oh boy. If Natalie’s shop is any estimation, I can’t even afford to look at these things, much less buy one.

  “Oh, that sounds like Serena.” The top-hatted vendor gestures at the left path leading away from the huge courtyard. “Little ways up that track there. Everyone needs a little penguin in their life. When you’re ready, just come on back. I’ll be here.”

  “Thanks.” I flash a genuine smile.

  Wow. Beyond merely selling them, the guy genuinely wants people to have penguins. I read it clear as day in his presence. I seriously need to find someone who can explain to me what I am and how I know this stuff out of nowhere. Hell, I might just stop by here one of these days, when I’m not on duty.

  Following the penguin guy’s directions, I lead the way out of the courtyard and head up the dirt trail. The locals continue to watch us with interest, evidently mistaking us for cops. Either that, or our modern clothes stand out.

  At long last, a familiar sky-blue wagon comes into view on the left. The woman I’ve been seeing in flashes of psychic insight is behind a table full of crystals of every imaginable color or shape in shallow wooden trays. She glances our way and locks eyes with me. My ‘read’ on her is sparse, but tells me she’s friendly with no particularly strong intention at the moment.

  Her posture stiffens, but the kindly smile remains. Lawrence follows a quarter-step behind me on the left, content to let me do the talking. Like I’m any kind of authority on this stuff. Sigh. I should’ve brought Natalie along. I walk up to the wagon, as pleasant a smile as I’m capable of on my face. This adulting thing is hard. Being a surly teen took a lot less effort.

  “Welcome to the Crystal Garden. I am Serena. What may I help you with?” asks the woman.

  “Hi, I’m Brooklyn Amari, and this is Lawrence Ellis. We’re with the Philadelp
hia Fire Department. I’d like to ask you a few questions, if that’s okay?”

  “Fire department, eh?” Amused at some hidden joke, Serena studies me for a moment before giving a curt nod. “All right, but I don’t see how I could possibly be of any assistance to you.”

  I pull the crystal from my pocket and show it to her. “This was discovered at the scene of a recent fire. I’m evidently a bit psychic. When I touched it, I saw you. I believe this crystal came from your shop. We were hoping you could help us identify the man who purchased it.”

  Serena grasps my hand when I offer her the crystal. She pokes me in the palm with her left index finger and traces it across. The sensation sends a shiver down my back and into my leg. “Hmm. Interesting. You are not like most of your kind.”

  “My kind?” I raise an eyebrow before glancing at Lawrence. Crap. “Uhh, psychics?”

  A knowing smile spreads over Serena’s face. “That will do. Yes, among psychics. You do not give off… the same energy, if that makes sense.” Again, she traces a symbol on my palm with her fingernail. It leaves no marks or glowing lights, or anything visual at all. “Perhaps it’s your upbringing. I sense a great love from your… mother.”

  I stare at my hand in this old woman’s grip. Despite being strong enough to lift and chuck a steel I-beam from a hotel, I stand there like a child trapped by their grandmother. “Yeah. Mom’s great. She didn’t deserve the life she got, but she’s doing better now. Finally comfortable.”

  “You should come back and visit some time. I would very much welcome a chat.” Serena winks and plucks the crystal up in two fingers. “Ahh yes, I remember this one. Dragon Quartz. Linzval.”

  “Linzval?” I tilt my head like a confused dog.

  “His name.” Serena raises her eyebrows. “I name all my babies.”

  I manage not to crack too much of a condescending grin, though my eyebrows furrow a little. “Right… Well, the man who got… Linzval from you enchanted it into a spellstore and loaded it up with fire. Used it as a bomb basically to burn a place down.”

  “Oh my.” Serena’s face reddens with anger. “That’s reprehensible! I loathe it when people abuse innocent, beautiful things.” She rubs her hand back and forth over it. “Oh, Linzval, forgive me for trusting that man.”

  Lawrence gives me the side eye. Yeah, he thinks the old one’s a little off the deep end.

  “I do remember the man who bought Linzval,” says Serena. “He had a quiet sorrow to him. He asked about dragon quartz, and said he wanted a gift for his young daughter.”

  “Can you remember what he looked like?” asked Lawrence. “Did you get a name?”

  “Oh, around forty, I suspect. Black hair with quite a bit of grey. Looks like he spends a lot of time in the sun. I want to say his name is Robert or Ronald or something.” Serena takes a knee, and reaches under the table.

  “Thank you.” I face Lawrence. “Well, that only narrows it down to a few hundred thousand. Easy.”

  “One moment, young lady,” says Serena. “I’ve got him on camera.”

  “Camera?” I ask, on the verge of laughing. “For real?”

  Still on one knee, Serena points over her shoulder at a small black box on the side of her cart. “Magic isn’t the answer to everything, you know. Sometimes, the mundanes can do things cheaper.” She sticks her second arm under the table, and the clicking of computer keys starts up. “If you give me an email address, I’ll send you the video file.”

  I draw a blank. Should I give her mine? Is there an official one?

  Lawrence leans in and gives her his departmental email. Ooh, he’s got a ‘dot gov.’ Hmm. Maybe I do too, but I don’t often interact with the public unless I’m carrying them out of a burning house.

  “Would you mind if I kept Linzval?” asks Serena. “He needs to be rather painstakingly purified.”

  “I think that can be arranged eventually, but for the time being, he’s considered evidence. If we’re thorough enough, there will be a criminal trial,” says Lawrence.

  “Oh.” Serena lets out a sad sigh. “Of course. I hope you punish him for what he did to Linzval, though I don’t think the man who bought this crystal is the one who enchanted it. That poor girl.”

  “Which poor girl?” I ask.

  “The one whose present got stolen, of course.” Serena blinks at me.

  “Uhh, ma’am, I don’t think there is a little girl. In my vision, I saw the same guy… black hair with a bunch of grey. He’s the one who put the crystal in the place that burned. I’m pretty sure the daughter is a cover story.”

  “Oh.” Serena folds her arms. “I suppose that’s better. Any man who’d do that to a crystal would not make a good father.”

  Lawrence coughs to cover whatever noise he made at that.

  Serena’s anger fades to a mixture of curiosity and concern. “Now, is that it for the official business?” When I nod, she gives Lawrence a quick glance before leaning close and continuing in a quiet tone. “Let me know if I can be more of help. Oh, and do remember, if you need an ear, hon, you can always come back and talk. I’ve never met one quite such as you before.”

  Huh. Maybe. Gotta check in with Mom first. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. Might just take you up on the offer.”

  She smiles. “Farewell then. May your paths find favor.”

  Lawrence nods at her. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  An alarming thought circles my brain as we walk back down the trail to the village. Serena somehow knew what I am, or at least knew I’m more than I appear to be. How many others can tell that? Natalie’s a mage, and she didn’t notice. If not for that crystal of hers… Suppose it’s one of those ‘school’ things. Whatever type of magic Serena possesses must let her see things.

  “Once we get back, I’ll run this video over to the PD. Let them see if they can figure out who this guy is. That’s their job. Great work, so far,” says Lawrence.

  “Thanks.” I wave at the penguin guy as we pass. It would be kinda neat not to have to pick crap up off my floor, but I don’t have the time right now, and I think Nat might be offended if I bought some other enchanter’s stuff. Then again, for all I know, she might find the penguins adorable. “So what now?”

  Our official SUV chirps and unlocks as Lawrence hits the button on the fob. Once we’re inside and the doors are closed, he pats me on the shoulder.

  “You get off easy for now. I’ll drop you at home. Stay near a phone though,” says Lawrence.

  “Never go anywhere without it.” I gesture at my smartphone.

  He starts the engine and backs around in a K-turn.

  Great. An early day. Haven’t had one of those since school ended. Yeah, this adult thing blows. I close my eyes, daydreaming about being fifteen.

  elaxing was nice while it lasted. After a brief Wednesday, I got a call to ‘go back to normal’ for a while, so Thursday, I showed up at the stationhouse at six in the morning and endured the obligatory teasing about being ‘one of the peons’ again. No one seemed to care my ‘promotion’ to the marshal’s office had been nonexistent―they teased me anyway. Oh well. Two days pass without anything burning, which is awesome.

  Alas, hose drills suck.

  At least it’s Saturday and I’m not on rotation. I get to sleep in, and I’m going to drive up to Allentown to visit Mom.

  Once I’m done sleeping in.

  I drag myself out of bed a little past nine, which feels like I’ve slept all day, and go straight into the shower. Once I’m cleaned up, I throw on a black half-tee, non-frilly black miniskirt, and black leggings. Yeah. I like black.

  Shoes can wait for now. In the kitchen, I stare at the fridge, trying to make up my mind between cooking an egg, having a bowl of cereal, or being überlazy and stopping at DD or Starbucks for breakfast.

  “No!” The shout of the little girl next door comes through the wall so loud, it’s like she’s standing next to me.

  Ugh. Now what?

  Frank murmurs something too low to
make out.

  “I don’t want to!” yells the kid. “Where’s Mom? No! Let me go.”

  I don’t like the tone in her voice. Forgetting food, I creep closer to the wall to listen better.

  “It’s okay, Ashley. You’re a big girl,” says Frank. “Big girls do this all the time. This’ll be our little special secret.”

  “No! I don’t wanna! Get off me! Mommy!”

  A shrill scream follows.

  Shit!

  I bolt out into the hallway, pull a hard right, and skid to a stop in front of their door. It doesn’t even occur to me that I’m barefoot at the moment; I rear back and stomp the door by the knob. In a flurry of splinters, the door whips aside and smacks into the wall with such force it sounds like a gunshot.

  Frank’s on the sofa, pretty much straight in front of me, facing to my left. Ashley’s standing, trapped between his knees, squirming to get away from him as he’s trying to pull her dress up over her head. The crash of the door against the wall almost gives him a heart attack, or so I surmise; he stares at me open-mouthed and sweaty.

  Serena’s voice repeats in my mind. I loathe it when people abuse innocent, beautiful things.

  As soon as I lock eyes with him, such fury takes me that my horns and claws manifest. In that instant, his twisted intentions toward the child hit me full force. He wants her more than he wants Tracy, and he wouldn’t have been gentle.

  Neither will I.

  Ashley takes advantage of his momentary paralysis. With a diminutive grunt, she wrenches away from his grip and pulls her dress down to cover her underpants. She spares me only a two-second glance before dashing into a back hallway, screaming for her mother, though she’s clearly not home.

  An inhumanly deep snarl seeps past my teeth. Every bit of the anger I’d felt when that man tried to lure me into his car thirteen years ago crashes over me all at once. I’m vaguely aware of Frank’s scream as I charge. Leathery fluttering comes from behind me. Rage has pushed my shift all the way to armor plating. I dive, snatching him off the sofa like a giant hawk plucking a three-hundred-pound field mouse from a meadow.