by Kade Cook
The Covenant of Shadows
Collection – Volume 1
Books 1- 3
Kade Cook
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. All statements, descriptions, information and material of any other kind that may be contained within this novel is solely for entertainment purposes only and should not be considered as accurate. Other names, places and events are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part in any form.
Copyright © 2019 Kade Cook
Cover by Jenna McLean
Edits by Kayla Krantz/Proofreading by Michelle King
E-Book ISBN: 978-1-7753686-6-3
Paperback ISBN:
First Edition April 2019
Theo Publishing Works
Shediac River, New Brunswick, E4R 6A7, Canada
www.kadecookbooks.wordpress.com
email: [email protected]
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For Jenna, James, Kaidyn, Liam, Meagan
And my little Channy man.
May they know
That I love them dearly.
In this world
And
In all those that follow.
Acknowledgements
First and foremost to you, the courageous readers that took the chance to pick up GREY.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
To my incredibly talented graphic artist, Jenna McLean, my wonderful editor, Kayla Krantz, and my very special proof reader, Michelle King, my biggest hugs and thanks for all their hard work.
And last but not least, to all the amazing minds that beta read GREY. Our many talks about imaginary people and your belief in me were what kept me going. Big hugs to Carrie T., Jenna M., Shanda C., Denise C., Brenda C., Doris M., Rachel O., Paula L., Marc D., Dawn D and Tammy C.
Long live the Coven-Nerds.
FELLOWSHIP HIERARCHY
ZEPHYR – AIR: ELDER VAEDA KARRIN
EGNI – FIRE: ELDER ARRAMUS URIE
HYDOR – WATER: ELDER CASPYOUS WILEY
EORDEN – EARTH: ELDER KALEB DIMIRI
ISA – ICE: ELDER ASHEN GRACIE
DERKAZ – DARK MAGIK: ELDER CIMMERIAN COLE
BORAGEN – BORROWERS: ELDER ETHAN BORNE
SCHAEDUWE – SHADOW WALKERS: ELDER ORRORYN REDMOND
VINDERE – REINCARNATE/MEDIUMS: ELDER ARIAH FELLOWS
ARGUROS AUCYEN – SILVER MAGE: ELDER CERA ARGRYIS
All things,
No matter how different they may seem,
Come from a common beginning
*
Beneath the sky and clouds,
beyond the reach of the whispering winds,
and far below the field of wild flowers that grow on the precipice of Shadow’s edge,
buried deep within walls of stone,
it begins.
Prologue
Buried Within
ALL THE TRUTHS spoken here today were born from the promise of a lie—a lie that could change everything.
Along the edges of the rugged Maine coastline, the morning mist slowly creeps forward and encompasses the walls of the weather-worn Centurion lighthouse. Standing strong for more than a century, it refuses to falter from duty.
Below its ever-seeing eye, the icy Atlantic air begins to shift and bend. From its midst emerges a tall, fair-haired figure; a woman yet merely the essence of one. She bursts forth with conviction to her mission, followed by her raven guide who shrieks loudly in announcement of their arrival.
Taking assessment of her surroundings, she glides quickly across the weathered field on weightless feet and halts just before a wooden gate, grown over by a large firethorn bush. Her form melds from air to flesh in order to access the tender surface of her skin. Pressing her finger firmly against a pointed barb that is ejected from the bush, a crimson dot appears, then grows vigorously downward across her index finger until it releases onto the ground below.
“Wendas.” With a whispered word, her flesh is gone, her form once again as translucent as a dream and the evidence of puncture, no more.
The watchful bird circles from above, keeping its sights on her. She glances upward at his ebony silhouette against the sky with a hopeful gleam in her eye, pleased at his unrelenting devotion.
There is a sudden rustling from behind the firethorn bush as an ominous figure appears from within its shadows. Instinctively, her senses flare out on high alert in debate of her flight-or-fight response. But catching a familiar scent of summer wafting in the arctic air, she exhales slowly, watching the figure step out into the light.
It’s a Guardian—one of the keepers of the gate. Although she should be completely at ease with his presence, her pupils widen and the blood running through her veins quickens just the same.
“Welcome, Lady of Zephyr.” The Guardian’s sandy voice smoothens over the high-pitched screech of rusted metal hinges scraping against each other as he pulls the gate open for her. The raven gives her a soft gurgling coo to signify its satisfaction with her safety then takes flight to the north.
“Botah,” Vaeda whispers. An illuminate shimmer washes over her body as it alters into its flesh form once again, radiating with her natural goddess features. “Always the gentleman, Tynan?” she toys as she walks through the opening, raising her eyebrows in an impish manner.
“Not always, my lady. There have been times that have called for less of one,” Tynan responds, softly closing the gate behind her—his darkened olive-coloured skin reveals a slight shade of rose growing just under his flesh. “The House awaits your arrival,” he quickly adds, changing the subject.
“Yes, I suppose I mustn’t make them wait any longer.” She exhales and turns to soak in every ounce of her time with him. Tynan extends his arm and holds out his hand awaiting hers.
She reaches out her doll-like hand and gently lays it in his. The warmth of his skin sets her flesh on fire, making her gasp slightly at the touch. He sweetly smiles down at her and the innocence in his eyes intoxicates her, making Vaeda want to follow him anywhere.
“Shall we then?”
Lost in his eyes, Tynan’s words echo hollowly around her. Receiving no response, he inquires again. “Lady Vaeda, are you ready?”
This time the words stick. Realizing she has practically covered his feet in drool, the elating buzz of desire that had swept throughout her body is abruptly replaced with the sting of embarrassment.
“Yes, of course, Tynan.” Red-faced by her obvious obsession, she smiles meekly and nods her head, readying herself.
Tynan clasps tightly onto her hand, securing his hold, and pulls at the fringe of Shadows, wrapping its magic around them.
And then there is darkness.
For a few moments, they are lost in the Veil of shadows, but just as quickly as they enter into it, they are expelled in the same measure of time elsewhere. Vaeda squints her eyes, adjusting to the light of the dimly-lit corridor she now stands in.
Tynan shifts his position slightly, catching in her peripheral vision, and Vaeda is reminded she is not alone.
“Thank you for your assistance, Tynan.”
Her chaperone nods graciously and releases the
impenetrable grip he has on her hand. “Always a pleasure, my lady. Shall I meet you here once you have decided to take your leave?”
Vaeda nods in agreement with one quick bow of her chin.
Tynan slowly slinks backwards and fades into the shadows once more.
Alone in the darkened hallway, Vaeda stands for a moment in thought. She searches within the Darkness of where Tynan had just stood moments ago, grasping at the edges of shadow, but finds nothing more than etched runes of spells embedded within the stone wall that stands in front of her.
She exhales slowly, the subtle frustration of her chaperone’s noble stature as well as his flawless physique pulls upward at the edges of her delicate mouth in her wanton state.
“If only I could make you see me.”
Staring at an empty wall and feeling sorry for herself gets her nowhere. She has an appointment to keep. Pirouetting gracefully on the spot, she starts her journey in the opposite direction toward the light. Low, incomprehensible murmurs interrupt her silent trek. She listens to the muffled voices as they echo like ghosts in the hall along the passage she follows.
And on this day, the voices have all come to discuss the matters concerning the keepings of the Silver Mage. They have come to discuss the child.
Hearing the decibels of the discussions raising, Vaeda hurries her pace to a swift canter and reaches the opening to the Great Hall in mere moments. She rushes out into the folds of Realmfolk scattered about, weaving her slender body in and out with exaggerated speed. She passes through them, practically unnoticed, as they move in lines like ants amongst the gargantuan marble pillars that climb endlessly upward.
Flailing hands and sudden outbursts of rehearsed verbatim at the high table stirs hesitation within Vaeda’s stride, and she slows her pace to a mere crawl before coming into clear view. Leaning her weight against the darkened edge of the wall—just outside the opening of the Covenant’s House table—Vaeda wields the cast of the pillar’s shadow towering before her to sheath her presence. She remains in her anonymity for a moment behind the drawing crowd in observation of the accusations and tempers scratching their way to the surface.
“The child is showing behaviour of being more than just human. It is a bit late in her development to start displaying signs of being from the Realm, but it is not completely unheard of. Anyway, more importantly, if we allow her to remain without guidance, she may become dangerous.” Ethan rubs the center of his temples, trying to make them see reason and knowing full well of the dangers they may be facing. He, being the Elder to the Borrower’s Fellowship, can attest to the errors of slight oversights that have bled into heart-wrenching demise.
“That is true, we are not even sure what she will be,” Cimmerian growls as he waves his hands around pointedly at no one in particular. “How could the Shadwells have been so negligent as to let this happen?”
“It was no fault of the Shadwells. They loved Cera, and only did as she had asked,” Ariah chimes in, plainly irritated by Cimmerian’s comments. Crimson grows more evident under her skin and begins to resemble the fiery colour of her hair.
“Ethan says that he can feel the girl’s dreams—that she is reaching out with her subconscious and has nearly found us,” Caspyous shouts, smacking his flattened hand against the granite table in front of him, then sits back in his chair and folds his arms tightly over his chest. He glances around at the others in search of any hostility that his stirring of the pot may have intrigued.
“She is not dangerous, everyone. I have spent time with her, and I have every confidence that there are no signs of Darkness harboring within her.” Orroryn clenches his fists beneath the cover of the table and away from the eyes of those who would test his calm demeanor as he pleads rationality to all who will listen.
“He was nothing like the evil that he became either, in the beginning,” Ashen says then sucks in her breath and twists her head in Orroryn’s direction with the realization she is just dousing fuel on the already fired up group.
“Maybe it is a sign of the Monster’s return. The child was found a few days later near the barren ground that marks his demise,” Arraumis adds, clasping and unclasping his hands together—his fingers whiten with every contraction while his eyes volley and bounce between the Elders in search of an answer.
“But Arraumis, he was bound to the Darkness. There is no possible way for him to break through. Cera saw to it. We all did,” Kaleb interjects and calmly flattens his palms against the smooth surface of the granite slab before him.
“I agree with Kaleb,” Orroryn says. His voice echoes around the edges of the room, aiding in his conviction that a reminder is necessary of the selfless sacrifice that was made many years ago. “She stripped him of his power and secured his crypt deep within the toxic depths of Erebus. The conviction she used to banish his existence here on Earth nearly vanquished her own. The child is an innocent and has nothing to do with any of it. She is merely a casualty of war and that is all.”
A rustle of voices rush through the room on the tips of the people’s tongues as the Fellowships whisper amongst themselves, discussing all the nightmarish visions they fathomed to be true. Hearing enough of this nonsense, Vaeda steps into the light and candidly thrusts herself toward them.
A hush comes over the multitude in discovery of her sudden appearance and they fumble backward, pushing against each other to make room as Vaeda cuts like a knife through the crowd of onlookers to approach the circle of Elders, taking her place at the high table. In Cera’s absence, Vaeda and Orroryn hold the house.
“It is about time she showed up.” A few voices grumble aloud within the masses.
“Nice of you to join us, Lady of Zephyr,” Cimmerian says, rolling his eyes before he looks down the bridge of his nose at her.
Vaeda enters the circle with her honour intact and smiles sweetly, brushing off his discontent as if unnoticed. She is known for her civility and kindness, but her gentile ways can easily be set aside if need be. With one whispered word of Magik, she can bring down the wrath of oblivion for most of those seated before her. And they all know it.
“Oh please, Cimmerian, there is no need to be so formal. We are all friends here,” she hums, and Cimmerian forces the edges of his mouth upward with tainted admiration as he readjusts his chair, looking away.
Feeling the weighted stares resting on her, she redirects her attention to the rest of the Elders and addresses the table.
“With all due respect to every Fellowship here today, we must not treat this matter of the child as a horrific or a tragic phenomenon but as a chance to groom a potential ally. I realize that we have all just recently discovered that the child Cera rescued is possibly a daughter of the Realm. I also realize that this causes you all reason for some concern. We don’t know what she will become, that part is true. Would you rather we attempt to reach out to her, guide her, and teach her the ways of the realm or leave her to fend for herself where she may darken and become a threat? Are you all so confident in yourselves and your abilities that you are willing to take that risk?”
Vaeda looks to Orroryn. He gives her a subtle nod of approval with a glint of confidence in his eyes. She does not care how the vote goes. She has reserved her last breath to say what it is that she has come here to say—what needs to be heard.
“It is essential that we give this girl a chance. We owe Cera that much. She gave up everything to rid us of his Darkness and whether you agree or not, it is the least we can do!”
Chapter One
A Haunting Experience
THINGS FEEL DIFFERENT today. I feel different.
I am having one of those days that I am sure everyone has once in a while. Where you just cannot take another moment of listening to anyone else complain about their unfulfilling lives and petty problems that most people would just deal with. I would love to just lock the door, pull down the blinds, and pretend that I am somewhere so quiet and remote that I would have to drive a hundred miles to find another living sou
l.
Ironically, listening to the world’s problems is my job. Though it may be hard on the head at times, and rips my heart out at others, being a psychologist has always been my passion. Since as long as I can remember, I have been fascinated by the human mind and how it works. My growing obsession to understand all of it led me to devour my way through my courses in a fraction of the time that it took everyone else—it became my disease.
I dreamed of practicing here in the city where there were so many people in need of someone to help get them out of the rut they dug themselves into and nudge—sometimes push—them in a more positive direction. It seemed like the perfect storm for me. So working with my father and taking over his practice after graduation was as natural as breathing. I was blessed with my uncanny knack of being able to guide my clients quite successfully, and I could never imagine wanting to do anything else or be anywhere else.
But lately, l cannot put my finger on it, something seems off.
I keep having these dreams of wide open spaces, green grass, and blue skies with clouds that float carelessly uninterrupted by buildings of concrete and steel. Last night, in my dream, I could smell the sweet scent of the meadow, bursting with life all around me. I heard the call of the ocean nearby. Then in the distance, I saw the silhouette of a woman with long, dark hair.
I would write it off as a midlife crisis, but I am barely in my twenties—okay, twenty-six, but still. I am in the prime of my life and doing well for myself. Why on Earth would I dream of stuff like that? I have not been to the country since I was a little girl, when my folks used to own a house in North East Harbor. I barely remember that. Why all of a sudden has my subconscious decided to go east and start vacationing in the country? And what is really strange about all this is that I can actually feel myself physically craving it. It seems quite out of the ordinary for me, to say the least.
