by Kade Cook
“We don’t know that she is anything other than Grey. Ethan has searched her mind, only finding a limited mix of gifts. There is no evidence she is anything more.”
“Unlike the rest of you, I am not willing to take that chance. I will not give up everything, all my power, to this thing. She is a Boragen, a Vapir, an abomination cloaked within camouflage of a helpless child. Do you not see it?” Caspyous leans in, balancing his weight on the tips of his fingers now pressed against the top of the table, eyes flaring almost as much as his blue aura. “That thing, that monster is using its powers to deceive—already fooling you all.”
Gabrian bites her lip so hard she can taste the copper tang of blood on her tongue. Her hands burn, clutched tightly into balls from listening to the venom spewing out of his mouth. Disgust overwhelms her, disabling her ability to stay quiet any longer. “You are such a hypocrite!” she screams at him from across the room, standing in front of her chair. All the Elders stare but they make no efforts to silence her. “You are just like me—a mix of gifts—yet you have the audacity to look down your nose and place yourself so high on a pedestal that your gluttonous need for power has blinded you, distorting your judgement, and making you believe your malicious actions are justified and above the law. It’s not me who is the monster in this room, it is you.” Gabrian’s frantic speech ends and her lungs heave in her agitated state, having unleashed the poison from within her.
Caspyous’s eyes, once wide and scraping for supporters, now narrow and become feral. He slowly twists his head to devote all his attention to the youngling, mouth curling upward at the edges into an eerie sneer. “I should have dealt with you myself,” he hisses at her.
Gabrian can feel his hatred searing at her from inside her flesh, trying to rip her apart from the inside out, as he tries to unleash his magical wrath on her soul.
Caspyous pitches his body forward, leaping up and across the table on a direct collision course with Gabrian. His blue aura fights to break free of the binds within the Covenant and his mind rages, seeing his prey through a crimson shade of hatred for what she represents and what he intends to do. Watery shards of Magik crackle into jagged claws of ice around his clenched fists—another hidden gift of the gods—weapons ready to tear her limb from limb and wipe the Realm clean of her existence.
With no time to think, Gabrian just reacts—fear leading her defence. Putting her hand up, she focuses her eyes on Caspyous and braces for the assault, catching hold of his incoming essence with her mind. She launches a torrent of calico sparks outward in attempt to shield herself, releasing a mind-shattering roar. “No!”
The assault doesn’t come.
The Elder struggles before her, his body tightly bound within the woven spell. Caspyous’ essence crackles and sparks as it fights the restraint of Gabrian`s enchantment and the violet Magik of the black-clothed arms that now hold him against his will.
All Gabrian can do is stare open jawed as Orroryn rushes to Cimmerian’s side and relieves the sullen Elder of his strife, unsure if it was she who stopped him or the ancient wards bound within the Covenant walls to protect all within.
Caspyous whips his head around, eyes wild and hateful. “What are you doing? You should be helping me.”
Cimmerian holds the glare he is given. The Elder merely stares back, void of expression—demonstrating that his show of loyalty to the Covenant of Shadows is resolute. The need for this youngling far outweighs his want for revenge on the Boragen Fellowship. He has another dedicated mission and it does not allow for such an irrational show of subordination. The risk is too great.
Taking the Hydor Elder by the arms, and firming his grip on him, Orroryn begins his mandate. “Killing innocents is not how we keep order,” he says in a calm but resonating tone. “We, the Elders of the High Table, the order of the Covenant of Shadows, find you guilty in construction of attempted murder of an innocent. You are hereby immediately stripped of your position as Elder to Hydor. You will be contained within the cells of the Shadow until a trial of your peers can be arranged. You will be held accountable and tried for your actions.”
Caspyous wails in hysterics as the Schaeduwe Elder leads him to the Shadows and vanishes within them, taking the noise and disruptive thrashing with him.
The decision, if made necessary, was to remove the Hydor Elder through the Veil and into the holding cell as to avoid panic amongst the people, limiting the amount of disruption within the walls of Shadows more than there already is with the Guardians.
Gabrian draws in a deep breath. Her body slumps in her chair and she lets her head fall forward into her lap as the tension leaves her, trying to grasp what just happened. The drum in her ears quiets as her pulse slows once more. Mixed conversations of the Elders mesh together into a whirlwind of babble around her as she slips into her bubble of exhaustion.
A warm hand on the back of her head drags her back from the momentary breakdown and returns her into the moment. “You did good, kid,” Ethan whispers to her out loud.
Gabrian’s weary eyes find her friend, and she forces a smile, but it is an effort to nod. The space around her hums with an unusual abundance of energy as the rest of the Elders approach her. She pushes her torso upright and leans into her chair, her spine resting tight against the stone backing. More hands reach out to soothe her, touching her lightly on her shoulder and offering small speeches of condolence. She just nods, not really hearing any of it.
Her eyes look past them in search, in hopes, of finding a face she longs to see—the rock, the sunrise of hope, the one she so cruelly threw away in an act of selfishness—desperate to hear the soft hum of his voice that always seems to drown out the chaos of this world.
But the noise remains, and she is left to drown within it.
57
NEVER TOO LATE
Having noticed Gabrian’s withdrawal from life over the past couple of weeks, and the obvious lack of Shadow Walker presence, Ethan wonders about his partner’s wellbeing. Having watched her struggle and push forward through the complete upheaval of her entire world, he is certain her coping abilities must be straining. Recalling a statement she had made a few weeks back about feeling smothered within her own life—especially after the kidnapping where Shane insisted on watching her every move—Ethan knew it was just a matter of time before something had to give and it unfortunately landed on Shane’s doorstep. Now with the added guilt of Rachael still in a coma and the attempts by Caspyous to eliminate her, he feels the heaviness of Gabrian’s heart reaching through the walls from her office, nearly killing her inside.
His fingers fiddle with a piece of paper, a piece of mail he had set aside, not bothering to open it. He rubs his thumb along the edge of the envelope, finally flipping it open, and reads the card. Taking in a deep breath, Ethan pushes himself up out of his chair and heads across the hall.
A knock at the door makes Gabrian look up from the pile of files. She had been given permission to go back to work under the strict condition she avoid clients until she can assure the Elders of her control over her urges to consume life essences—just to be on the safe side—and Gabrian agrees. She does not need any more unwanted drama in her life.
“It’s open,” she hums, recognizing the familiar energy on the other side.
The door slips open and Ethan’s hopeful face enters the room. “So, what does your schedule look like for this weekend?” he says, still fiddling with the envelope tucked in his fingers.
Shaking her head, she looks down at her calendar to check the dates. “It looks clear, other than a side note that says remember to pick up groceries and do laundry—pretty intense stuff.”
“Yeah, that is pretty intense.” Ethan’s lips pull wide across his mouth, curving upward on one side in a lopsided grin.
“What?” she scowls, leaning back, and rests her head on the back of her chair.
“I am not sure, but I think I have a better plan. Go home and pack your clothes.”
“Now why would I do th
at?”
“Because, you are coming with me.”
“Hmm, Okay. I will bite.” She pinches her nose and pulls her head forward, taking note of his almost giddy state. “So, where are we going?”
Ethan saunters across her office floor and holds out the envelope to her, widening his grin as his eyes gleam in the overhead light.
Sitting up, she leans forward in her leather chair and takes the paper from him, inspecting it, and flips it over with a raised brow then opens the envelope to appease him. Her fingers fish out the contents and within the folds of a letter are two tickets to an Instructional Wellness convention in downtown Manhattan. She purses her lips and glances up at him, her eyes narrowed. “New York?” She was not expecting to go so far. “I can’t go to New York.”
She clings to an image of her Guardian, his face and the hurt in his eyes that she placed there. The unkind and sharp words she spoke that day have haunted her ever since Gabrian allowed their sharp edges to cut him with intention. Although the message she relayed was needed, the way it was delivered had been cold and cruel—something she knows she needs to make amends for but is still struggling with pride and a selfish need for space.
“Sure, you can,” Ethan interrupts her silent moment of self-torture, seeing her drift somewhere dark. “It is only a two-night stay, and I think you will find it fascinating or at least distracting. I thought that maybe it might give you the space to help you sort out some things.”
Gabrian hears her Elder, her mentor, her friend loud and clear, but the thought of leaving Shane here with things unresolved bothers her.
Trying hard not to hear her thoughts, Ethan cannot help but pick up on the doubt rattling through her brain. So, to ease her mind, he breaks the silence. “Listen, if you are worried about Shane, don’t. He is a big boy, and he is not going anywhere. Trust me on that.”
She lowers her eyes at the sound of his name.
Ethan lets out a sympathetic sigh and gives her an all-knowing look. “When you get to be my age, you tend to pick up on things. Body language speaks louder than words…even the ones that aren’t spoken. After all that has happened, maybe it will be good for you to go clear your head and come back with a different view.”
She sighs at his truthful words and sets herself back into the arms of her chair.
“So, what do you say, are you in?”
“I’ll think about it.” Gabrian leans into her hands, ticking the tips of her fingers together as the thoughts of Manhattan’s electric energy lures in her interest, drowning out some of her pity party—not to mention drawing her attention to an appealing opportunity to drop in on Thomas to say a long overdue hello.
“Don’t think about it, just say yes.”
“I’ll think about it,” she growls and narrows her eyes, lips curling playfully into a frown.
Ethan raises his hands in surrender and backs out of her office, shutting the door behind him.
***
The next few hours drag on, and Gabrian feels as if she is caught in some kind of torturous time trap. She cannot concentrate on anything—all she sees is the hurt swimming in Shane’s eyes—haunting her. Letting out a loud huff, Gabrian closes the file, gets up from her desk, and starts for the door, headed for home.
A playful voice calls out to her from the adjacent office. “Hey, Gabrian, just wanted to let you know that the plane leaves from Bangor tomorrow morning. I will be leaving here at seven AM.”
“Ugh,” she grunts at him, hearing him chuckle behind the wall as she continues on her march to the exit. “I will think about it,” she says, snatching her coat from the wall, and tromps her way down the stairs, leaving him and his echoing laughter behind her as she slips through the door at the bottom.
***
All night, Gabrian lies awake, her mind refusing to shut down even for a moment. Tired and restless, her eyes seek out the incessant ticking warden on the wall. She glares at its unsympathetic face as its hands strike three bells.
She grumbles and sits up, pulling her hand through her hair—snarled by the constant tossing and turning. With her eyes wide open and agitation setting in, it is determined that sleep will not be up for discussion, so pulling back the covers, she makes her plan. Step one, head for the shower. Step two, coffee—loads and loads of coffee.
***
Ethan straightens the papers on his desk and places his ticket in the inside pocket of his charcoal grey sports coat, leaving the second one lying on his desk. He checks his watch and sighs, glancing across his shoulder at the empty doorway. Gathering his briefcase in one hand and heaving his large black carryon over his shoulder, he turns to leave for the airport.
Standing in the waiting area, suitcase in hand and wearing a nervous look on her face, she speaks. “Is it too late to join you?”
Ethan lets out a huffy chuckle and his eyes brighten as his smile grows across his face—relieved to see that she ‘thought about it.’ Gabrian takes a deep breath and smiles at his reaction, an unexpected wave of excitement washing over her as she lets go of some of the guilt that she has been clinging to.
He sets down his briefcase and returns to pick up the other ticket from the desk, holding it out to her with an impish grin. “It’s New York, Gabrian. Nothing is ever too late.”
58
NEW YORK, NY
Sitting in the airplane, looking through the window across the landscape below, Gabrian marvels at how beautiful the coastline is from above. A strange thought enters her mind and she turns to her traveling companion.
“With all of your connections within the Realm, why would you take a plane when you could just hitch a ride with Orroryn or ask one of the other Shadow Walkers to deliver you to wherever you need to be within mere moments—no economy class, no cramped seating?”
Ethan, who has been sitting quietly beside her with his eyes closed, begins to smile knowing it was only a matter of time before the questions started. “Because, my dear inquisitive one, sometimes it is good to live life. Not everyone gets to experience life in the same way we do. So, to understand the world around you, you must have the same interactions to achieve relatable stories to exchange with others. It helps keep things in perspective. Also, it is a good idea to have a paper trail of your whereabouts in case you ever need it.”
She nods and returns to her world watching through the window. “I get it, but I still think it would be beneficial to have the Shadow Walker Express on standby when your flights get cancelled.”
Expelling a huffy chuckle with his eyes closed again, Ethan retorts to her statement, “Yes, yes it certainly would.”
The next forty-five minutes are spent in silence, each going over things without words until they reach the JFK International airport safe and sound. Taking a taxi to their hotel, Gabrian feels the flood of energy seep into her veins from the abundance of life thriving within the city.
She glances at Ethan and lets him in on her thoughts. He grins at her, feeling the sullen side of her disappear in her elation to the exposure of life all around her—no internal cravings, no need to feed—just a need to breath. He knows she loves living in Northeast Harbor and all its charm, but she was raised in Manhattan. A part of her has been missing the city ever since she made the decision to leave it all behind.
Gabrian lowers her lids, absorbing it all in, and hears the silent but electrifying beat of the city’s heart rushing all around her, soothing the edges of the frayed nightmare her life had become and lifting the corners of her mouth.
The cabby in the front seat carries on in complete oblivion to all the healing taking place in his backseat as he navigates his way through the morning traffic across the waking city.
They make their first conference meeting at two then leave the group to find a bite to eat. “So, Gabrian, this your town. Where do you suggest we go?”
Her mouth curls up at the edges. She knows the perfect spot not far from where they are. “I know just the place,” she says, stepping out to the edge of the side
walk to hail a cab.
***
Ethan’s face twists as he looks up at the sign—Beauty and Essex—seeing nothing more than a nicely kept pawn shop before them and turns to her in confusion. “Um, I thought we were eating. If you need to pawn things to pay for it, maybe I should re-evaluate the amount of your earnings at the office.”
“Relax, Ethan, you will see.” She smiles, sauntering her way through the store toward a large man sporting a crimson-coloured aura standing in front of a green door. “Trust me,” she says, giving Ethan a wink coupled with a devilish grin. Having probably seen the same reaction a thousand times, the keeper of the green door returns her grin, and steps aside to allow their entry.
Ethan, still confused, follows Gabrian’s lead, studying the member of Egni as the loud rush of noise breaches the quietness of the room, unleashing evidence of what swarms within the boundaries of the walls. People, food, laughter, and life ripples through the opening, taking him by surprise and making him slow. Gabrian grabs Ethan’s hand and pulls him forward, dragging him behind her and into her hidden paradise.
On the side of the door awaits an oasis of delightful smells wafting from the kitchen beyond and in front of them yields a long bar filled with customers happily sipping their drinks, waiting for their tables and chatting about their day. Noticing a familiar orange essence glowing from behind the bar, she drags Ethan behind her to an empty seat and waits anxiously to be noticed.
Ethan turns in his seat to take in his surroundings. He is captivated by all the different-coloured auras filling the room and swims in the waves of their various shades. A loud but warm voice from behind him brings his attentions back to the bar.
