Shadowborne

by Matthew Callahan

  “Mad, can you pass up the lighter?” he asked. After a moment’s fumbling, he felt his brother press it into his hand. He wiped his hands on his pants and flicked the wheel, the sparks sending stars dancing across his eyes. The flame caught and Will held out the small light source in front of him.

  Inches ahead was a rotten wooden beam embedded with rusted sawtooth blades. Sharpened railroad spikes and nails protruded from wherever a blade wasn’t present, some straight and some curved to look like barbed fish hooks. Will shivered. Without the light of the small flame he would have collided with the trap.

  “That looks…unpleasant,” Madigan said, having reached the edge of the tunnel.

  Will nodded and raised the flame to scan the passage. The walls were riddled with the harsh beams, protruding from all different angles. The ground grew slick again, the mud littered with the impaled beams and embedded with rounded stones. The passage sloped down at a frighteningly steep angle. The slightest slip would send them crashing down into the rusted blades.

  “Whoever did this certainly didn’t want anyone else passing through here,” Will said as he eyed the trap-laden passage.

  “I believe,” Madigan said in a humorless tone, “that that was our grandfather.”

  “Right. So, we watch our step and we don’t fall.”

  “Brilliant plan, Will, top of the class. Just be careful.”

  Will took a deep breath of the stale air. They weren’t about to turn back, not when they had come so far, not when things were getting so interesting. He stepped forward, holding his breath as each step threatened to roll his ankles and tip his balance. The rocks squished in the mud and ground against one another as he moved, every stone treacherous. More than once, he wavered and barely caught himself when a stone sank too far or he misjudged a step.

  Casual curses from behind let him know that Madigan was following his lead, stepping wherever Will had and testing his footing. Will crouched and maneuvered under the twisted wet beams and their bladed occupants, wishing for a handhold to brace himself against. Instead, he was met with spiderwebs that filled the spaces between the beams and laced his arms and face. The path twisted and turned, winding deeper and deeper into the earth. Will’s heart raced, his teeth only unclenching whenever he needed to spit the tacky spiderwebs from his lips. His legs were cramping from having to constantly crouch. His body was screaming for him to straighten them and let them rest, but there was nothing for it.

  Mad’s curses increased as the sloped path became steeper and steeper, the stones more slick and the beams more prevalent. Will began to search for safe places to support his weight on the beams themselves, the minuscule spaces between the blades where there weren’t hooks and spikes. He found few. More than once it seemed that there was no way to continue; the steeper the path became, the less safety there was.

  And then, suddenly, the path began to level out. The stones beneath their feet flattened and the lethal beams lessened. To Will’s relief, the mud became firmer and the rocks disappeared. After a few minutes, he finally began to lower his guard, breathing easier.

  The dull hum of his key spiked again and he froze, shining the flame around the passage. He saw nothing. He stepped forward cautiously as the tunnel took a sharp, hairpin turn. The path ended abruptly at a hole in the ground. A faint glow was emanating from its depths. Will crept forward and flattened himself before peering over the edge.

  A pale green light filled an immense cavern below, the glow coming from a murky pool in the center of the space, illuminating it. Decayed beams, broken and discarded, lay strewn throughout the cavern. The room itself was round and deep. Will’s mouth went dry. He scanned the water’s edge, searching for the intricate door that he knew was there. And then he saw it, half hidden by the pool, ten feet in from the bank against a small rock outcropping.

  The cavern was exactly like his vision. They had found the entrance to the Ways.

  Will turned back to his brother. “It’s real, Mad. It’s just like I saw it.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. Bigger, but it’s there.”

  “Good thing too,” Madigan said with a grin as he pushed past his brother to look into the cavern. “Maneuvering backward out of this tunnel would have been more of a struggle than I’d care to admit.”

  Will gave a nervous laugh then squirmed next to his brother. Both stared at the water below, at the wooden beams, at the door. As he looked, Will realized there was one key element of the equation missing. He nudged his brother. “Any brilliant ideas on how we get down?”

  Madigan paused for a moment before responding. “We aim for the water.”

  Will sighed and shook his head. “That was the exact same thought I had. I just hoped you’d come up with something better.”

  He didn’t like how far down the drop appeared. While in the vision the water seemed deep, they had no way of knowing for sure. Plus, there was a ghost of a memory of something else within the water, something he wasn’t keen on encountering. He did his best to gauge the distance.

  “Well”—Will rose to his knees—“I suppose there’s no reason to delay.” He took a breath and cast off, flinging himself down toward the pool. He had a brief moment to pray that his pack would keep him afloat should he lose consciousness upon impact.

  Luck was on his side, it seemed, and he hit the water without losing his breath. It cascaded over his head as he went under, plunging downward. He fought the urge to open his eyes and look for anything sinister in the dark depths. The water had an oily tinge to it, slick against his face as he rose to the surface. Finally, his head was above the water and he was able to open his eyes. Gasping for air, he saw nothing and quickly began to paddle his way to the shore.

  “Quite the splash, kid!” Mad called down, his voice echoing through the cavern as Will rolled onto the bank. “I’m right behind you.”

  From where Will lay, the fall didn’t seem nearly as high as it had from above. But watching his brother descend and plunge beneath the surface of the pool was terrifying. He breathed a sigh of relief when Madigan’s head broke the surface. Still, it was only a minor consolation as his imagination ran wild with what else could be lurking in the water.

  “This water is disgusting,” Madigan said after he spat.

  “Then get over here and analyze its flavor when you’re out,” Will called back to him. The key thrummed against his chest and he could feel his hackles rising. Something didn’t feel right. He looked around. There was no way to get back up to the hole in the ceiling. The door was their only exit.

  Madigan paddled over to the bank easily. “Let’s hope these packs are as waterproof as Grandda always said.”

  “I’m sure they’re fine,” Will replied quickly. “We need to go.”

  “Bit jumpy, aren’t you?”

  It suddenly occurred to Will that he may have missed a few key points in his initial description of his vision. He opened his mouth to fill in the details but stopped as a deep rumble filled the cavern. The waters of the pool began to churn. Will stepped away from the bank, frantically pulling Madigan back with him.

  Madigan, however, hadn’t hesitated for even a moment. In a heartbeat, the noctori took on the form of a bastard sword and Madigan was at the ready, knees bent, eyes intent on the water before him.

  “Get to the door,” he said as he raised the sword. “I’m right behind you.”

  Will took off at a run. He was racing for the opposite end of the pool, the one closest to the ancient door, when the creature broke the surface in a spray of putrid water. His path was blocked.

  Will froze, paling before the creature. Senraks…But no, it was not Senraks. There was nothing magical about this being. It stank like long-dead ocean life, so potent that Will momentarily gagged. It was covered with massive tentacles, seemingly made up of them entirely. Smaller tentacles and beady eyes surrounded its surprisingly small body. The body itself appeared to be almost entirely taken up by its jagged, beak-like maw. It clac
ked open and he could see sharp, pointed ridges jutting up from within.

  It moved as if by instinct. Its tentacles shot out, wrapping around anything they could touch as if their grip was reactionary. Will jumped aside as one flew toward him. He landed and rolled out of its reach as Madigan’s noctori slashed down in an arc that severed the limb.

  A gurgling, wet howl erupted from the creature as it turned its attention in their direction. Gripping the walls with its tentacles, it propelled itself forward, limbs flowing like an octopus. Madigan slashed again and again as the creature pressed forward. Will withdrew the fangs from his belt and distanced himself a few yards from his brother, dodging the creature’s flailing limbs and stabbing at anything that moved as he raced toward the door.

  Suddenly, the creature launched itself toward them, moving faster than Will had imagined possible. He cried out as he tripped and fell to the ground. A massive tentacle came crashing down toward him. He closed his eyes, preparing for the brutal collision, and electricity shot through his body. His chest went numb.

  His mind felt somehow split, as though a dormant part of him was awake and battling. He opened his eyes and saw his Shade had deflected the blow and was surrounding him. More tentacles, smaller ones, kept crashing down but the Shade was shielding him, deflecting attacks. Will scrambled to regain his footing. Dimly, he realized that some part of him was controlling it, was aware and conscious of each block. Behind Will, Madigan roared as he parried one blow only to attacked immediately from the other side, sending the noctori flying from his hands.

  The creature had managed to push them between itself and the pool, gradually forcing them backward. Mad had created another noctori but the weapon was a fraction of the size it had before. While his Shade was deflecting blows, Will’s blades weren’t long enough to sever through the tentacles and, surprisingly, the pain they inflicted only seemed to drive the beast into further rage. He thought of the door behind him, tantalizingly near but still too far to offer them escape.

  Then, just like in the dream, he was in the water. He had backpedaled directly into the fiend’s lair with his brother right alongside him. The farther back they were pressed, the slower their responses became as every action became heavy and sluggish in the water.

  Madigan howled in pain as the beast gripped his legs and pulled them out from under him. Will leapt toward him, momentarily propelling himself out of the water. He stabbed down into the tentacle as hard as he could and Mad was able to squirm his way out of its grasp. When Will landed, however, he realized that they had reached the shore’s drop-off point and the ground gave out beneath them. Will had no choice but to shove the fangs back into their sheathes and tread to stay afloat.

  “The door, Will, get to the door!” Mad was struggling to reach the shoreline in an attempt to block the creature’s path, but it was no use. Again, the creature hurled itself forward and slammed into Mad, tearing at his clothes and surrounding his body with its limbs. Will shouted as he looked to his brother, limbs outstretched like a crucifixion. He watched helplessly as the creature drew Madigan away and enfolded him in its tentacles.

  “No!” The defiance roared from within Will, a blazing fury of heat that propelled him forward onto the land. Will’s Shade disappeared in an instant as the cavern became charged, static heavy upon the air. The hair on his arms raised, the wetness of the pool evaporating from his clothes in an instant. Lightning appeared in brief spurts throughout the room, booming and crackling. The creature became frantic, its tentacles thrashing wildly. Lightning was crashing against it, burning it more with every movement it made.

  Madigan appeared from within its grasp and scrambled backward, gasping for air, eyes wide. Coughing, he regained his feet and drew his noctori once more to full size and pressed forward, shrieking in his battle rage. The air crackled and the lightning stabbed, drawn to the beast like a metal rod in a storm.

  Will stepped forward slowly and deliberately, his arm thrust toward the creature like an accusation of guilt. Its attack had stopped, and it was in a panic now as it tried to flee. Yet every movement called more and more electricity toward it. It shrieked, beak clacking over and over as it writhed in the cavern.

  Madigan retreated; the beast was recoiling faster than he could catch it. Will heard his voice, suddenly frantic. “Will! Will, get the hell out of there! Will!”

  “Go.” Will’s own voice was foreign to his ears, yet the creature’s screams were sweet music.

  “Will,” his brother screamed. “The roof! It’s collapsing.”

  As if in a dream, Will’s eyes looked toward the ceiling. Great fissures ran throughout the cavern and stones were beginning to fall from it. He glared and stepped toward the retreating beast. The lightning intensified upon the terrified creature, corralling it back toward the falling stones.

  “Go,” Will said again.

  A massive boulder fell directly upon the creature’s body, immobilizing it. The torrent of lightning and stone continued while it screamed in agony, trapped within its own sanctum. To Will, the melodic beauty of its death throes seemed like a choreographed dance, each motion perfectly in time with the next. He found himself laughing.

  Something crashed into Will from the side and he tumbled to the ground, gasping. A falling stone had shattered right next to him, exploding as it collided with the ground and knocking him off his feet. His head swam. Blinking, he looked around and took in the scene before him.

  The creature’s movements ceased. Its formerly grey-white skin was charred and blackened, cracked and split to reveal the reddened flesh beneath. The lightning, too, had ceased. Dizzily, Will turned toward his brother.

  “Mad?”

  He seemed so far away, standing within an opened door. The light from behind him was soft and brilliant, cool and inviting like a summer’s night. Will stumbled toward him on unsteady legs, the pool hissing and sizzling as he passed through it once more. He heard rumbling and looked up to see more stones falling from the roof of the cavern. Falling backward, he floated on his back and stared at them—raindrops falling on a stormy night.

  Hands gripped his pack and he was moving through the water. Passing through an arch, he saw the intricate filigree of the door from his vision for a brief moment before it closed behind him. He lay down on the ground and stared into the darkness of another tunnel, his cheek against the ridged stone floor.

  Except the ridges didn’t appear natural. They looked like cart tracks, etched deep within the stone and overlaid with a black metal. The stone was foreign, something outside of Earth’s elemental plane, unnatural to every fiber of Will’s being. But there were cart tracks. Like Jervin had always said.

  The stories were true, all of them.

  11

  Within the Ways

  Madigan didn’t know how long he sat there savoring the stale, acrid air. The ground felt cool but dry. He leaned his back against the door, resting his head against his palms, and stared down the passageway and the crudely etched tracks in the floor of it. Everything about his surroundings reminded him of a lost memory, like a distant déjà vu from his youth, something he couldn’t place. Everything, that was, except for the blackened beams of the ancient door at his back, the evidence of the shattered and scarred room sealed behind it.

  Will was sprawled before him on the ground, immobile. They were alive because of Will, alive because he had manifested his strange powers in yet another unknown way. His eyes were open, Mad could see, but staring at the ceiling without focus. His clothes were still steaming. Madigan remained silent, glancing between his brother and the dark passageway before them.

  Eventually, Will blinked and his eyes began to flutter. He groaned and rolled to his side. As Madigan looked on, Will tried to sit up. He managed to get his arms underneath and nearly raised himself halfway before his trembling limbs gave out and he collapsed back to the floor.

  “Ow,” Will said.

  Madigan didn’t move to help his brother to his feet.

 
“Enjoying the view from up there?” Will said, the levity in his voice a poor mask for the strain.

  “You scare the hell out of me sometimes, you know that?” Madigan said. His voice was a whisper against the darkness, a soft echo oppressed by the air.

  “I know, I know.” Will succeeded in pushing himself to a seated position and collapsing against the wall. “I’m an idiot and I should have just run when—”

  “It’s not that,” Mad said, eyes dropping to the ground as he spoke. “You’ve gotten yourself in and out of plenty of tricky situations, Will, but that’s not what this is. I’m not scared for you. I’m scared of you. You terrify me.”

  He heard Will’s breath catch, the silence between them a physical force. Finally, Mad glanced back at him only to see that Will wasn’t even looking in his direction. His eyes were far away, lost in thought, his voice only hinting at what was going on within his mind.

  “We’re fine, Mad, that’s all that matters,” he said, his voice a hushed monotone that didn’t even echo within the tunnel. “I’m just still getting the hang of this. It’s nothing to stress over.”

  Madigan gaped at his brother. “Lightning?” he said. Will snapped out of his pseudo-trance and looked at Madigan with a shrug.

  “Apparently.” His voice regained its usual levity as he raised his arms above his head in a stretch. “Trust me, it was just as surprising to me as it was to you. I’ve never had anything like that that I can remember.” His face scowled in a grimace as he stretched and twisted. “And from the way my body is feeling, I think I’d remember pretty well.”