Shadowborne

by Matthew Callahan

  Amidst the wreckage stood din’Dael. He stepped forward toward Will and stared down. Motionless, Will stared back. The corner of one of the prisoner’s eyes twitched. The drums grew louder and shouts began to echo down through the corridor above. Din’Dael glanced up toward the sound and leveled his gaze at Madigan, eyes narrowing at the sight of the noctori. Madigan weathered the glare and returned it in kind. After a moment, din’Dael turned back to Will and his mouth spread into a wide grin as he extended a hand down.

  “What say we slaughter some Shale?” din’Dael addressed Will.

  Will took his hand and was pulled to his feet so forcefully he nearly stumbled. He went to respond but the man turned and raced up the ladder before he was able. Quicker than Will thought possible, din’Dael reached the top level and squared off against Madigan. Will watched as the Lightborne took in his brother and the noctori. Jero din’Dael snickered.

  “Shadowborne.” Din’Dael gave an impassive nod. He glanced about at the charred corpses strewn about the room, then back to Madigan, then back to Will and smiled again.

  Will made to move to the ladder but din’Dael held up a hand and shook his head. He whirled and stepped into the entryway as the clamor of troops grew ever closer and held up both his hands. Bright as the sun, they glowed as he unleashed a wall of pure white fire in a wave and sent it flying up the corridor in a roar. The war cries of the Shale turned to shrieks of pain and misery that overshadowed the cacophony of the flames. Amongst it all stood din’Dael, howling in laughter.

  The screams were over a short moment later. The drums were silent. The scars covering din’Dael’s bare arms danced and crackled with streaks of white lightning as he reentered the room. He strode forward to Madigan and cocked his head to the side, the hint of a smile twitching upon his mouth. A hesitant silence stretched between them.

  “Shadowborne,” din’Dael said again.

  “Jero din’Dael,” Madigan responded.

  “You knew me?” Din’Dael cocked his head to the side as Madigan nodded. “Interesting.”

  “My name is Madigan Davis. This is my brother, William. We’ve come for your aid.”

  Din’Dael burst into laughter again and turned from Madigan, kicking the charred corpse of a Shale from his path as he strode forward and leapt over the railing to the ground below where Will stood. He laid a hand on his shoulder.

  “It appears I am indebted to you, William Davis.”

  “Well.” Will swallowed. “Very good. I always prefer to have debts owed to me rather than be the one doing the owing.”

  Din’Dael chuckled and gestured toward Will’s belt. “The blood fangs, you wield them?”

  Will nodded.

  “That’s very interesting. And you destroyed all those Shale up there?”

  Will’s eyes flickered with pain as he nodded again.

  Din’Dael grinned again, wider than Will imagined possible. Slowly, he raised his palm to Will’s face. Crackling with energy, the man cupped Will’s forehead with the heel of his hand and gripped his fingers into his hair. The Lightborne’s eyes rolled back into his skull and Will felt a wave of power surge through his own body. His limbs splayed as electricity coursed through him like he had been struck by a bolt of thunder. Madigan shouted for his brother and threw himself over the railing, rapidly closing the distance to din’Dael, but was swatted away by a blast of fire to his chest that sent him careening into a wall.

  “There we are, William Davis.” Din’Dael grinned as he removed his hand and Will slumped to the ground, gasping for air. “Consider my debt repaid.”

  Will’s entire body ached. He curled into the fetal position and gave a violent cough. His insides felt like ash. He pushed himself to all fours and looked up at din’Dael. He tried to speak and broke into a fit of coughing. He heard his brother groan and managed to regain control of his lungs. He glared up at din’Dael.

  “What did you do to me?” Will said.

  “Think of it as ‘accelerated training.’” Din’Dael grinned again. “A century’s worth of daily practice may be comparable, but only just.” He shrugged. “You’ll be the judge, ultimately, Lightborne.”

  William froze, tendrils of fear snaking through his body. “What?”

  “A rarity for siblings to align differently and not have killed one another yet,” din’Dael continued as if not hearing him. “Still, who knows what the future may bring? Now, where is Dahla?”

  Madigan stirred against the wall and let out a low moan, but Will was in too much shock to take notice. Lightborne, din’Dael had said—an impossibility. Will looked inward and sought the soothing darkness of his Shade. He could not feel anything. Fear overtook him and he grasped his key in futility.

  His Shade was gone.

  29

  Jailbreak

  “What,” Will gasped, “what have you done?” He stared at din’Dael, fear and outrage pouring over him. He felt empty, hollowed out, burnt from the inside. Violated. He was incomplete.

  Jero din’Dael gave him a look that was a blend of disappointment and disgust. “I’ve elevated you, fool. You’ve ascended to the level of a true Burner and hardly lifted a finger to do so. Your fire is beyond your wildest dreams.” He sneered and turned from Will, crossing the room and placing his hands on the wall there. Madigan had recovered enough to stand and crossed to his brother quickly.

  “Will,” he said, coughing and staggering a bit. “Are you alright?”

  Will knew that the only thing sparing him from welling up with tears once more was the complete absence of any spare moisture in his body. His lips felt chapped and cracked and his eyes were dry and scratchy. There was a thirst in him, far greater than any he had ever known. He turned to his brother, stricken. When he spoke, his voice sounded empty and dry. “Mad, my Shade, it’s gone.”

  Madigan’s brow raised in horror before turning downward in rage. He spun toward din’Dael and raced for him, both Shade and noctori ablaze. Before he could close the distance, however, din’Dael raised his hands from the wall and the stones exploded before him.

  Madigan and Will threw themselves to the ground and covered their heads as sheets of rock and dirt flew through the room. When Will raised his head, din’Dael was marching through the chasm he had created into a growing tunnel of scorched and blackened earth.

  “Come!” the man barked over his shoulder. Madigan and Will rose to their feet and steadied themselves, watching the retreating figure disappear from eyesight.

  “We owe him nothing.” Madigan leveled his gaze at his brother. “We leave him. We get out and start over.”

  “No.” Will shook his head and tried to swallow but his throat didn’t seem to work. So thirsty… “Not until I know what he did to me.” Giving a tense nod, Madigan beckoned him forward and the pair chased after din’Dael.

  The tunnel reminded Will of volcanic caverns that had long since been absent of lava. The floor slanted upward and twisted periodically, showing a gradual rise from the entrance. Jero din’Dael was far enough ahead that they could hear the echoes of his roaring fury but see nothing of the man himself. The force of his blasts had left the walls smooth, the molten rock rapidly cooled and stabilized. Occasional flashes of light ahead of them showed that he was still at work, carving his own path from the prison as he made his escape.

  The hollowness in Will’s chest began to subside and he felt something flutter within. Stifling a cry of joy, he gripped his key and felt its electricity burning and firing as never before. Yet, the moment of hope diminished in a moment as, despite every effort, his Shade was utterly gone. He clutched the key as it decreased its wild vibrations until only a simple hum remained. Attempting to use it as a conduit was fruitless. Like the failed attempts to recall a dream, the paths in his brain through which he knew how to access his Shade began to crumble and fade.

  A boom sounded and the tunnel became flooded in natural light. Will and Madigan raced forward, believing that din’Dael had breached the exterior of the prison, but
what they saw was not even remotely that. The tunnel opened wide into the large hall where they had seen the massed Shale.

  Din’Dael was unleashing havoc on his jailers. Lightning whipped through the air. Horrific sounds of death filled the room. Bodies were flying from din’Dael as he forced a path forward. The one man was cutting through hundreds like they were butter. Will had never seen a battlefield, never seen so much death in one place. Slaughter.

  With weapons drawn, Madigan and Will followed in din’Dael’s wake. The cries and moans of the brutalized Shale sent Will’s head swimming. Din’Dael was at the end of the room, climbing a ladder to the dais that overlooked the area. The Shale had fled from him, pulling back to regroup, it seemed, and the brothers had a clear path to him. Rapidly scaling the ladder, they found din’Dael casually flipping switches and twisting levers on the console in the center of the dais. He whirled to face them, an immense claymore raised high. When he saw who it was, however, he chuckled and dropped the weapon before turning back to the controls.

  “What are you doing?” Madigan’s voice was hoarfrost on steel.

  “Enacting justice, of course.”

  “And you’re doing that how…?” Will’s voice sounded tired, even to his own ears. Tired and parched. Gods, so thirsty.

  Din’Dael’s hand settled on the largest lever on the panel and he met Will’s gaze with his twisted, twitching smile.

  “Why, by bringing freedom, of course!”

  He flipped the switch and the entirety of the prison shook and groaned. There was a brief silence, then a roar of drums and a hum of arrows as the Shale, fully regrouped, attacked. Din’Dael calmly held up a hand and the arrows were incinerated midflight. The Shale, racing toward the dais, halted. Off in the distance, more drums sounded but this time with no steady rhythm, no cool battle song; rather the air was filled with a frantic percussion.

  Suddenly breaking off from the three men, the Shale began racing for the entrances to the hall and arraying themselves into battle formation. As Will stared in horror, a horde began pouring into the room. Men and women, bone thin and ragged, seemingly appeared from nowhere and began pressing themselves upon the Shale violently.

  “Glorious,” din’Dael said, his face brightening with a jubilant smile.

  “What have you done?” Madigan roared as the room began filling with more and more people who appeared as likely to tear one another apart as they were the Shale.

  “I’ve brought freedom to every soul in this forsaken prison.” Din’Dael grinned. “And after centuries of imprisonment, they appear to have some issue with their jailers.”

  Will gripped the metal rails of the dais as he watched the chaos unfolding before him. He pictured it happening throughout the entirety of the massive prison and knew for certain that any dream of safe passage had just been dashed. His thoughts lurched to Morella, alone and wandering the prison’s winding maze of passages. He prayed that somehow she was safe. Perhaps Cephora had managed to get her out, or maybe she’d found an exit on her own. Maybe she had fought her way out. But as the mass of people clawed and hacked and tore one another into gory shreds before him, his thoughts turned toward finding an exit of their own.

  “Mad!” he shouted over the roar of the crowd. “We have to get out of here!”

  “Come on!” his brother yelled back as he raced down the ladder.

  Will followed and started down before realizing that din’Dael had not moved. His arms were spread wide as he stood tall and erect, eyes to the cracking ceiling, drinking in the chaos. Will shook his head. Perhaps Morella had been right. Perhaps it would have been best to leave him locked up. Perhaps it would be best to leave him down here in the chaos that he wrought under the pretense of freedom. But after seeing what he was capable of, and aware that even this man, despite his power, hadn’t been able to defeat Valmont, they couldn’t leave him behind.

  “Din’Dael!” Will shouted. “We’ve got to get to our extraction!”

  The Lightborne cocked his head to the side, as if trying to remember who Will was and why he was addressing him, before he grinned and ran forward.

  “Lead on, young Burner,” he whooped as he leapt from the dais. “Lead on!”

  Madigan was pressing through the crowds, noctori bared and spinning in controlled brutality as he cleared a path. Will was right behind his brother with din’Dael hot on his heels. For his part, din’Dael had stopped fighting entirely and seemed perfectly content to follow. Will’s blood fangs were out and working their way through anyone who happened to get close enough. Every time they connected with flesh, every time the screams began, Will felt more and more apart from himself, as if he was watching the entire event unfold from far above the throng of berserk combatants.

  They finally managed to reach an exit that wasn’t crowded with prisoners or Shale and raced through. The corridors spun this way and that but gradually began to climb higher. They encountered more Shale and more prisoners battling as they went—there seemed to be an endless supply of both—but after a few minor skirmishes the three emerged from a passage into an open courtyard under the cover of night.

  The entire courtyard was filled with a rampaging battle. The three ducked into a passage between towers and ran toward the outer wall, some distance away. As they drew closer, they encountered a platoon of fresh Shale. Madigan rapidly sought to cloud the three of them within his Shade but it was too late, they had been seen. At an unintelligible order, the entire contingent turned and began running toward them.

  Madigan darted down a side passage at a sprint and cursed as the Shale pursued. Cutting left and right and left again, the three raced to distance themselves from their pursuers, but to no avail. They emerged back into the courtyard to find that the main gate of the fortress was swarmed with prisoners attempting to scale the walls as Shale unleashed volley after volley of arrows against them. It seemed to be slaughter without end.

  Madigan halted suddenly as a new stream of prisoners poured from the facility. In their maddening haste, they crashed into Will and Madigan and knocked them backward. Din’Dael kept at a distance, watching.

  Madigan, deflecting their every blow, was forced backward toward a tower. With a battle cry he forced the assault back, but only just. Will raced to his side as din’Dael skirted into the tower. Unable to stem the flow of the horde, they were pressed backward into the tower as the mass of people proved too much for even the combined forces of Madigan’s Shade and noctori. Will struggled against the heavy stone door, inching it closed as Madigan fought off the throng. He risked a glance behind him and saw din’Dael sitting calmly on the floor in the center of the tower, watching the brothers fight them off.

  “Din’Dael!” Will shouted. “Help us!”

  The silent, seated form stared back at him blankly.

  “Breach the walls, push them back, something!” Will cried as he struggled against the door.

  Din’Dael, covered in blood and soot and sweat, simply stared back. “I’m cold,” was his only response as he shrugged.

  They were losing ground. Despite Will’s bracing of the door, it continued to get pushed open bit by bit. The first hints of panic started to rumble in Will’s breast as he saw din’Dael lie back and sprawl onto the ground, seemingly unaware of the press of people clamoring for blood.

  Anger replaced panic as Will stared at him, lying there and humming tunelessly to himself. Were it not for him, he and his brother would never have been in this situation. The anger burned, a roaring blaze, and he could feel it coursing through every inch of his body. In that moment, Will knew exactly what needed to be done.

  Without warning, he sprang away from the door and watched it crash open under the force from those screaming outside. Roughly, he shoved his brother out of the way and sent him sprawling into the nearby wall.

  A Burner, that’s what din’Dael had called him. Lightborne. Will’s Shade had been the evidence that proved otherwise, but now that power was gone. In its place was a white-hot fury, a fo
unt of roaring fire. Will burned.

  He surged forward into the throng, the power rippling through him. As the prisoners closed in and blows rained down on him, he released his fury. It manifested in a ball of fiery lightning that spiraled out in countless bolts of white-hot death.

  In an instant, the bodies of the dead and the dying surrounded him. There was a momentary quiet. He was bleeding from dozens of cuts and scratches, and black bruises were already beginning to swell his left eye shut, but he had earned a moment’s respite. He stumbled back into the tower and collapsed to the ground.

  “Again, you bloody idiot?” Madigan raced forward, crying insults and berating him. He knelt and helped Will roll over to lie on his back, nearly mirroring din’Dael behind them. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

  “You can shut the door now.” Will coughed. My life for a drink of water. Sitting up was out of the question, let alone standing. He fumbled for the power within the blood fang but the motion made his head spin. He forced himself to abandon the task.

  Madigan cursed again and ran to the door. He began to shove the bodies that now blocked it out of the path, covering his nose and mouth with his arm. He paused in the gruesome task, glancing outside the tower, and cursed a third time.

  “Shale,” he said.

  “I’m coming.” Will struggled to lift himself. He nearly made it to his knees before he lost his balance and fell to the side. Violent coughs wracked his body. So damn thirsty, he thought sluggishly.

  “No, Will,” Mad said. Will looked up and saw his brother shaking his head at him. Madigan didn’t meet his eye, instead surveying the corpses on the ground before drawing his noctori. “You’ve done enough. This one is on me, kid.”

  “Wait,” Will croaked. “Mad!”