Shadowborne

by Matthew Callahan

  Finally moving away, he climbed up the steps to the second loft and tossed the remnants of his old clothes on the ground next to the bed. After Ynarra’s earlier departure, he had rushed up and found his charred pack half slid underneath it. He had pulled it out and quickly upturned the contents before being flooded with relief when he saw his belt and the second fang had not been disturbed. Returning to them now, he lifted both knives from their sheaths and hefted them in his hands. They felt good. Better, even, than before, as if they were more real, somehow. He couldn’t explain it. Maybe it’s just everything that’s happened since we wandered into the Shanghai Tunnels yesterday.

  Will was suddenly floored by the rapidity of events. Had it really only been twenty-four hours? Perhaps not even that much. Could it be that he and Madigan had been in the streets of Portland that very morning?

  A mild headache came on at the thought of everything that had occurred since. Doing his best to ignore the pinching between his eyes, he made his way to the shelf where Ynarra had laid out three piles of clothing for him. They were dark, lightweight, and surprisingly tough. Next to them were sets of hardened leather arm and leg guards and an unadorned, single-shouldered pauldron. There was also a dark cloak that sported a large, wide hood and, when draped about his body, sat just above his knees.

  He slid on the pants then, finally, collapsed onto the bed. His stomach growled. He raised his head to see if Ynarra had brought food while he was in the washroom. She hadn’t.

  His hand drifted to the key where it lay against his chest. It felt warmer to the touch than before and it was still tingling. Perhaps it always does? He supposed that would make sense; there was no reason for it to stop now if it hadn’t yet.

  Will’s mind wandered as he strummed the key mindlessly. Something about the keys was significant, more than Grandda let on. His gut had told him not to tell the Crow about them. The Keeper, Grandda had called himself when he gave the keys away. Senraks had called him by that name, and the Crow had said something about him being the Keeper as well. There was something important about them, something he needed to understand first. Deciding it best that the key, like his Shade, remain tucked away, he slid it from his neck and placed it in one of the pouches on the belt for safety.

  “Nice pants.”

  Startled, Will sat up and stared at Madigan, whose wet hair dripped on the wood floor. Like Will’s leg, his face had nearly healed and the bruises that covered his body had faded away almost completely.

  “They’re pretty damn cozy, actually,” Will said, rubbing the knees of the pants.

  Madigan poked through the clothes Ynarra had prepared for him and muttered something unintelligible before changing into them. His were a few shades lighter than Will’s, more dark brown than charcoal in color. He sat on his bed and slid his noctori gear onto his hands.

  “I’ve gotta say, Will, you were pretty badass today,” Mad said, flexing his fingers in the glove of the noctori.

  “I know,” Will said with a grin. “Which part do you mean?”

  “Shut up, I’m trying here,” Madigan said. He was quiet for a moment although Will could tell he wasn’t done. He waited. Soon enough, Mad continued. “Grandda didn’t really give us much to go on and, despite the Crow’s vow, I really don’t know how safe we actually are here.”

  “Yeah but when you think about it—”

  “What I’m saying is” —Mad held up a hand to quiet Will—“I know the Crow told you not to use your abilities. I know Grandda trained you for years not to use your abilities. We’ve been really lucky up to now that everything you’ve done has come via instinct. But Will, much as I love you, man, I don’t want to trust in your instincts alone. We both need you to practice.”

  Will nodded. “No, I know,” he said. Madigan raised an eyebrow and Will sat up and met his gaze. “Seriously, I know. I just have no idea where to begin or how to do any of it. Grandda never knew how to train me so I could trigger things on my own. He could do it for me, but he didn’t know how to get me to do it myself.”

  “Well,” Mad said with a shrug, “then figure it out.”

  “Oh, come on, Mad,” Will said. He never gets it. “It’s not that easy! Every time has been because of—”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Will. Grandda wouldn’t want us flying blind and right now, you’re a wild card. I’d rather know that you were our ace in the hole. I’m not saying don’t be cautious, I’m saying we need to know what you can do.”

  They were both quiet for a minute before Will nodded in agreement. “I know. I’ll try.”

  “I’m not going to make you do this alone, buddy. I’ll help,” Mad said. “Just try not to kill me in the process.”

  Will shrugged and smiled. “Like I said, I’ll try.”

  Madigan shook his head and chuckled before running his hands through his hair. “Gods, Will, what the hell are we even doing? I’ve been so caught up since…since Grandda, that I just, I’ve just been going by belief, you know? Sheer will and determination. But today, the Crow, when he pointed everything out? I felt like everything was this foolish pipe dream, you know? Like, who the hell am I to do this? And just…this whole thing. I haven’t figured it out yet.”

  “I know,” Will said, “but you should have seen yourself out there today, Mad. You kicked ass.” Madigan gave a weak smile but Will went on. “I mean it, man. You’ve got this. You’ll figure it out and get us all squared away. It’s what you do.”

  “Yeah, well,” Madigan said. “I’ll try.”

  “I’ll help,” Will said. “Just try not to kill me in the process.”

  “Like I said”—Madigan grinned—“I’ll try.”

  Will threw a pillow at his brother and they both burst out laughing, each relaxing a bit. For the first time in days, they were able to be just two brothers making jokes at each other’s expense. Neither imagined that they could ever lose that, that things could ever truly change. That first night in the Nordoth, before everything else that was to come, they remembered how to be a family.

  15

  Refreshing Refreshments

  A knock echoed through the room. Will, who had been lying on the bed dozing, rolled to his feet and looked over the railing to the door. Ynarra poked her head in and gave a timid glance around before she stepped through lightly, carrying a tray.

  Will descended the stairs and made his way over to her, suddenly even more aware that he was starving. She set the tray down on the table closest to the door and, seeing Will moving toward her, curtsied quickly and then turned, scurrying from the room. Apparently, Will had already tapped out her daily allotment of words for conversation.

  “So, what’s on the menu at this fine establishment?” Mad called down from above.

  Set upon the wooden tray were two covered plates sitting next to steaming cups of tea. Will lifted the cover and was pleasantly surprised. “A veritable feast, looks like,” he called back to his brother. “Sausage, veggies, a bit of bread, nothing terribly foreign at first glance.”

  “Sounds like familiar fare, want to bring it up here?”

  “Sure.” Will hefted the tray and returned to the loft. The pair sat on their beds and ate quietly, appreciating the warmth of the food as it filled their bellies. The tea was herbal and spicy, flavors Will couldn’t quite recognize but ones that certainly woke him up. After they had both finished, Madigan snatched up the dishes and the tray and returned the ensemble to the table where Ynarra had left them before collapsing back onto his bed.

  “Do you have any idea what time it is?” he asked.

  Will shook his head. “None,” he said. “Besides that thing in the Crow’s office, I haven’t seen a clock anywhere.”

  “Me neither,” Madigan said. “And the sky hasn’t changed color at all. I expected it to be darker by now.”

  “Well, maybe their days are longer than ours?”

  Mad shrugged. “Gotta be something like that,” he said. “Unless, of course, they’ve just mastered their stre
et lighting so nothing ever changes.”

  They both chuckled at that, but it was strange to think about. Their grandfather had said that time worked differently there but he hadn’t said quite how. And the way that both he and the Crow talked about years and age and general time was so far beyond familiar discussion that Will couldn’t help the words that fell from his mouth.

  “Maybe it’s magic?” he said.

  Mad stared at him a moment and then started laughing. Will flushed and stammered something unintelligible but his brother cut him off.

  “No, no, Will,” Mad said between peals of laughter. “I’m sure you’re absolutely right!”

  “Man, shut up,” Will muttered under his breath as his brother continued.

  “No, I’m serious,” Mad said. “It’s just, the look on your face when you said it! Like a kid asking if Santa Claus was on the roof!”

  He quieted a moment later while Will scowled back at him till Mad held up a hand to placate him. Will rolled back onto his bed and stared at the rafters high above, the day’s events racing through his mind.

  “Hey, Mad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Why do you think they went from trying to kill us to bringing us up here?”

  Madigan scoffed. “Well,” he said, “if we were to listen to Ynarra, then apparently they weren’t trying to kill us.” He paused a moment before continuing. “But truth be told? I don’t know. This place doesn’t make any sense to me yet and I feel in way over my head. Maybe it has something to do with us fighting back. Maybe it has something to do with Grandda. Or maybe they just change their minds on a dime around here. All I know is I don’t really trust it, any of it. Not yet, at least.”

  “Yeah.” Will nodded. “Can I ask you something? When you were fighting those guys, what was going through your mind?”

  There was silence for a moment before Mad responded. “Honestly? I don’t remember. Win, I guess? Keep your guard up? Don’t die?” He shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s just a part of things for me, just to go off instinct, I suppose. Don’t get me wrong, it was scary as hell, but I couldn’t tell you what I was actually thinking during it.”

  “Yeah, that makes sense, I guess,” Will said. He was picturing Shifter, the way the commander had been toying with him at first. The way his languid, condescending smile had dropped when Will started to fight back in earnest. The fear in his eyes when he called him Shadowborne. And when Will had his knife to the man’s throat, his fear had felt so… empowering. Will hadn’t wanted to kill the commander, but he had wanted him to be afraid. He had enjoyed it.

  Realizing that made him more fearful than all the rest combined. He felt sick. He held a power within him, yes, but he couldn’t blame that for the sense of anger and cruelty. He could only blame himself.

  “We should get some sleep, Will, regardless of time,” said Madigan, interrupting Will’s depressing thoughts. “I don’t know what the Crow has in store, but I don’t want us to be caught unawares.”

  Will shifted over onto his side. “Should we, I don’t know, should we alternate?” he said. “Keep watch or something?”

  Mad scanned the room. “The Crow said we were safe here,” he said. “But, truthfully? Yeah, that’s a good idea. I don’t trust it here, any of it.”

  “Yeah. Something feels off, right?” Will said. “It’s not just me?”

  “Not just you at all.” As Madigan spoke, Will thought he sounded remarkably like their grandfather. “You get some rest, kid, I’ll go run through some drills downstairs for a while.”

  Will thanked him while Mad climbed off the bed and walked down to the large open floor. Will could hear him moving chairs, clearing a space, and then rhythmic steps as his forms moved him through the room.

  Will didn’t climb under the blankets. He didn’t want to risk anything tripping him up if something happened. Before getting too comfortable, he fastened his belt and blades around his waist to ensure they were close. He kept reassuring himself that they would be alright, but the doubt in his stomach was an iron knot. But gradually, listening to Madigan’s movements below, he finally drifted into a dreamless sleep.

  After a few hours, Madigan woke his brother and the two switched. Mad collapsed onto the bed and was out before Will had even made it to the lower loft, his even breathing and occasional snore echoing in the quiet space. Will paused and surveyed his surroundings. The ground level was another ten feet down and he debated about just jumping the distance before deciding against it. There would be time for acrobatics later if he wanted. For the time being, he simply made his way down to the room and opened the window.

  The view was fantastic, the orange sky just stretching out into the horizon without break. The view itself was unchanged, picturesque, but Will had already seen it. Feeling a sudden impulse, he grasped one of the nearby ropes that held the drapes and gave it a sharp tug. It was long and secured to a beam high above but, just in case, he made a small jump and hoisted himself on it to test it further. Still strong and secure. He smiled a bit and wrapped it around his arm. Then, just because he could, he leaned fully out of the window and stared straight down.

  The breeze was warm and rustled through his hair with a gentle caress. It was difficult to make out anything in the courtyard far below, but at least he was able to get a better idea of how high they had actually climbed when they entered the Nordoth. Even with the rope secured around his arm, he still swooned a bit as the vertigo hit. Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, he let himself sway in the window, the warm air a delicate kiss upon his cheeks.

  Once his feet felt firm and steady once more, he opened his eyes and smiled, still swaying with the rope and scanning the surrounding area. They were in a fortress, immense and towering, that really was carved from the mountainside. The seamless stonework, the jutting passages and turning ascents of the stair, the way the stone seemed to drip and flow into itself—all of it was reminiscent of a piece of art, molded from volcanic glass. His imagination danced to the idea of thousands of stoneworkers carving each and every hall, every alcove and room, the sheer immensity of the undertaking.

  The mountain itself was the fortress, the Nordoth. What could be more impenetrable than that? He smiled as he swayed, visualizing the impregnability of such a structure. He could see the battle lines drawn, see the siege weapons in his mind’s eye, see the futility for any who tried to breach the walls. No, whoever controlled this fortress held a position of great power, and to maintain control they must certainly be a force to be reckoned with.

  And he and Madigan were his ‘guests.’

  Will hoisted himself back into the room and thought about the Crow, how easily he had commanded the people around him. How the gleam in his eye betrayed a mind that was dismantling every argument as it occurred. Despite the outwardly frail appearance, he undoubtedly held more power than he let show. How else could he have obtained such great control, maintained whatever position he held? Here in the Nordoth, high above the city of Undermyre, the Crow held sway.

  Abandoning the window, Will made his way to the space that Madigan had cleared and lifted the fangs from his belt. He had barely had a chance to get familiar with the weapons and yet they were as comfortable as any he had ever held. Glancing around, he pushed a thick wooden table on its side then walked back a few paces. Hefting the smaller of the blades, Will flipped it in his hand and threw it at the table. Spiraling silently through the air, it pierced the wood easily and stuck fast.

  Will smiled. The balance was amazing, far better than he had expected. He thumbed the larger blade and, after a moment’s consideration, let it fly as well. To his surprise, he was rewarded with the satisfying sound of the blade biting into wood. He closed the distance and removed the knives, returning the larger to its sheath while he flipped the other in his palm. Easy. He flicked it into the air above and spun, reaching out from behind and catching it quickly. The moves were basic, but he knew that one slip would send him to the floor writhing in agony, or worse.<
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  Despite himself, Will quickened his pace. The fangs truly were magnificent. He spent the next fifteen minutes moving with them, feeling the way the belt reacted to his body, testing the weight of the blades in a variety of actions. He ducked and twisted, sweeping across the floor while the room cooled from the open window. It felt good to move. A glistening of sweat began to wet his palms yet still the knives felt secure in his grasp. Basking in the orange glow, the gems in their pommel caught the light and shone blood red.

  He paused then and admired the gems, thinking them a strange addition to the weapons. The blades themselves needed no adornment; their beauty and intrigue were sufficiently engaging due to the simple magnificence of the fangs. The gems seemed nearly identical, something darker than a ruby and heavily clouded with twisting minerals throughout. Something about them was familiar, reminding him of his key and its own swirling patterns of metal.

  Will couldn’t help but smile—dragon fangs, actual dragon fangs. While Madigan’s noctori was magic made solid, what Will held was a remnant of magic made flesh. He wondered about dragons with all the curiosity of a child, picturing them flying through the air and men on their backs doing battle. He imagined himself amongst them, clothed in the leather armor upstairs, battling Senraks from the back of a dragon and conquering the mighty creature. Childish fancies, he knew, but still his imagination raced.

  After a time, he set the blades aside and spent the next two hours exploring the room. He discovered that he could use the ropes to pull himself up to the rafters and balance along the beams. He found a small cross section where seven beams met to create a small platform, hidden from sight of the rest of the room. A small private space, tucked away, was something that Will had some ideas on how to use.

  But by far his most interesting find was the alcove that contained the library. The space was not large, by any means, but it was bright and stocked with an abundance of books. There was everything from maps to histories to biographies and educational texts. Depending on how much time he and Madigan were going to be trapped in the tower, Will figured it was possible that perhaps they could make up for the lack of education the Crow had used to undermine their confidence.