The Shadows

by Cheyenne McCray

  “Your father.” Hannah kept her eyes focused on Rhiannon’s. “I need to go to the Drow to find out what’s happening to Garran. What he’s doing and why it hurts him each time.”

  “That’s risky.” Rhiannon frowned. “I’m beginning to feel like I can trust Garran, but I’m not so sure about the others.”

  “I know.” Hannah felt that ever-present tightening in her gut. “But we need to find out what’s going on and this is the only way I can think of doing it.”

  “Why do you care about my father?” Rhiannon folded her arms across her chest, looked even a little angry. “Back when I first found out who he was, you called him a traitor.”

  “I did,” Hannah said quietly. “But I’ve changed my mind.”

  Rhiannon had something between irritation and amusement on her face. As if she had such conflicting emotions she didn’t know whether to lash out or laugh. “You care about him.”

  Hannah paused as she thought about Rhiannon’s words and a strange feeling wavered beneath her skin. How had she gone from mistrusting Garran to being so concerned, in such a short amount of time?

  “Yes, I do,” she finally said. “And even though you didn’t trust him at first, you do now.”

  Rhiannon paused then nodded. “Yeah. Gut instinct, or something, but somewhere deep inside I’m sure he’s not bad.”

  “I know where the Drow come in to San Francisco,” Hannah said. “I need you to help me go through the passage.”

  Since Rhiannon was half Drow, she was half-Elvin and could pass through this world to Otherworld at transference points. Hannah couldn’t because she didn’t have any Elvin blood in her.

  “We’ll have to more or less sneak out of here.” Rhiannon looked around them as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “If we tell anyone about this, you know they’d never let us go. But I don’t know how to get past the D’Danann guards.”

  “You’re part Drow.” Hannah glanced in the same direction Rhiannon had before looking back at her. “Your father gave me some of his Drow magic before Ceithlenn captured me. I was able to use his magic with mine to make a glamour strong enough that the D’Danann didn’t see me leave.”

  “I wondered how you got away with that.” Rhiannon wiped her hands on her jeans. “Anything we need to take with us?”

  Hannah’s lips curved in a wry smile. “Our magic is about all we have to protect us. I don’t think either of us is good with a dagger.”

  “No kidding.” Rhiannon smiled back. “We might as well get this done and see if we can get back before anyone gets really worried. Keir will kill me.”

  Hannah nodded, and as one they each pulled a glamour. Hannah blinked. “I can’t even see you, Rhiannon.”

  “Same here.” It was strange hearing the disembodied voice. Usually when they pulled a glamour only using their D’Anu magic they could see each other. “I’ll go first.”

  Hannah whispered to Rhiannon which pier they would need to be at to pass through the door to the Drow realm.

  “I know exactly where that is,” Rhiannon whispered back.

  Because she couldn’t see Rhiannon, Hannah waited a second to make sure Rhiannon had passed. Hannah reached out with her new Drow powers and sensed Rhiannon walking in front of her as they made their way through the work areas in the warehouse.

  She still ran right into the invisible Rhiannon when she came to a stop as two of the D’Danann passed by. She’d barely kept from making a sound when she bumped into the other witch.

  Hannah held back a little more as she made her way to the warehouse door. She ran into Rhiannon again when she got to the door. Rhiannon hissed and Hannah backed up.

  “Wait until someone opens the door,” Rhiannon whispered.

  Hannah rubbed her arms as they waited, her skin shivery with the need to go. Finally, one of the D’Danann stepped out and Hannah slipped behind him. She hoped Rhiannon had made it out, too, as she headed toward the dock.

  “With me?” Hannah whispered as she walked away from the warehouse.

  “You’re going to have to drop your glamour once we get near that pier so I can see you and the door.”

  Not seeing Rhiannon and hearing her speak still made Hannah feel unsettled.

  When they reached the pier, Hannah said, “I think it’s safe now,” and dropped her glamour.

  It was actually a relief to see Rhiannon when she dropped her glamour, too.

  Rubble trickled beneath Hannah’s running shoes as they climbed down below the wooden planks and around one of the huge pilings.

  Hannah showed Rhiannon the dirt and rock wall she and Garran had passed through to make it to San Francisco.

  Rhiannon grabbed Hannah’s hand and said, “Here go the two craziest witches on the planet.”

  Being in this whole mess together made Hannah feel surprisingly closer to Rhiannon. When they took that first step straight at the wall, Hannah had full confidence that Rhiannon would get them to the Drow realm.

  Hannah closed her eyes. She never felt the earth or rock as they walked forward, hand in hand. Again, Hannah couldn’t hear, couldn’t see, and her skin numbed. This time panic didn’t rise up or fear that Rhiannon would let go. Quiet confidence pushed away some of the numbness.

  When their feet met stone, they both stumbled a bit. Smells of damp earth and moss met Hannah’s senses and cool air skimmed her bare arms. She opened her eyes and Rhiannon released her hand.

  It was so dark that even after blinking a few moments, Hannah still couldn’t see. “Should have brought a flashlight.”

  “I think it’s the Drow in me—I see a black door over here.”

  “That’s got to be it.”

  A thumping sound and then light streamed into the space she and Rhiannon were in. It wasn’t too bright, so as they walked through, Hannah easily saw the throne room with its crystal walls, freeform artwork—and a bunch of Dark Elves seated around a great oval table.

  Men who stared in their direction with obvious surprise. A couple of the Drow had even risen from their chairs and had unsheathed their swords.

  “Princess.” One of the Drow bowed after his gaze landed on Rhiannon. The rest of the men stood and bowed, following his lead, and those Drow who had swords out sheathed them.

  Hannah glanced at Rhiannon to see her cheeks redden as they always did when she was called “princess.” Hannah hid a smile but quickly sobered.

  All the Elves had the bluish-gray skin of the Drow. As usual, their hair color ranged from silver to blue to gray to black. Some work black shirts and pants while one Drow wore the same basic warrior gear as Garran.

  The men remained standing as Rhiannon and Hannah approached. One of the Drow stepped forward. He appeared very calm, almost serene, something that didn’t gel with her notions of what all Drow were like.

  “We are the Drow Directorate,” the man said as he swept out his arm, gesturing to the men around the table. “And please meet Carden, King Garran’s Steward.”

  Hannah followed her instinct to bow from the shoulders as Rhiannon did.

  When they raised their heads, the Steward, Carden, gave a pleasant smile and offered each of them one of the four empty chairs at the table. Hannah and Rhiannon accepted, and took their seats.

  As soon as Rhiannon and Hannah sat, all of the Dark Elves followed suit and the scrape of Hannah’s and Rhiannon’s chair legs echoed in the room again. The Drow returned to their chairs in silence. Hannah found the silence unnerving and she shivered.

  Carden studied Rhiannon and Hannah. “How is the king? Did he send you?”

  Hannah looked at Rhiannon whose expression seemed to say, “It’s your show.”

  “The king didn’t send me.” Hannah was not about to look anything but calm and controlled around these men. There were too many of them for her to announce that Garran was ill. “I need to speak with the Steward and the leader of the Directorate only.”

  Dark looks from almost all of the men made Hannah feel like shrinking back in her ch
air, but she kept her spine straight and her chin tilted up.

  One of the Drow had a shrewd, not so pleasant expression on his face. He had silver hair and darker silver, almost pewter-colored eyes. “What you have to say can be said to all of us.”

  “No.” Hannah put emphasis on the word. She hoped to the Ancestors that this man with the bad attitude wasn’t the leader of the Directorate.

  “Sepan,” the almost serene man said as he looked at the silver-haired Drow. “Their request is not unreasonable.”

  “I will remain, Hark.” Sepan folded his arms over his chest.

  Hannah gave the Drow called Hark her coolest look despite the pounding of her heart. “Are you the leader of the Directorate?”

  “I am,” Hark said quietly. “You may speak with me and the Steward.”

  “Thank you.” Hannah didn’t let her gaze waver when she looked at the man named Sepan, who openly scowled at her. “We appreciate your willingness to accommodate our request.”

  She swore she heard a series of growls from the men although they made no other noise as they pushed their chairs away from the table and stood. How did they do that?

  Including Sepan, the men left silently, but their irritation and anger were palpable. She sure hadn’t made any friends in that round.

  When just the four of them remained, Rhiannon and Hannah both took chairs closer to the head of the table where Hark and Carden sat.

  Hannah kept her voice low so that the door guards couldn’t hear her. “Garran is ill and we’ve come to find out if any of you can help us learn what’s wrong with him.”

  Both men appeared stunned. “King Garran is ill?” Carden asked, his voice disbelieving.

  “We’re pretty sure he’ll recover.” Hannah held her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting. “But we don’t understand why he’s getting ill or what he’s doing to cause it.”

  “I wondered…” Carden frowned. “Explain. Please.”

  Hannah told both men about the disappearance of the Fomorii and how weak Garran had been afterward, and that she hadn’t seen what had happened.

  She went on to describe her capture by Ceithlenn and how Garran had used some kind of silvery power that caused the Fomorii to vanish, then knocked him out cold.

  “Is this some kind of magic Dark Elves can use?” Hannah said as she finished and looked at the two men, who looked puzzled. “What’s happening to him?”

  Hark and Carden glanced at each other. Their gazes returned to Hannah’s, and Hark said, “What you have described is no Drow power.”

  “Could it be a power Garran—my father—had that no one knew about?” Rhiannon asked.

  “It is not possible.” Hark shook his head. “It is far beyond any ability of the Dark Elves. Even the Light Elves would not have such a great power.”

  “And the king should never become ill after using Drow magic,” Carden said. “The Dark Elves do not experience such weaknesses. Ever.”

  “Whoa.” Rhiannon pushed her hair out of her face. “None of this is making sense.”

  Hannah swallowed, feeling like a fist was in her throat. “Then we need to figure out what’s happening. The D’Anu witches have attempted to use their divination powers to learn more, but nothing’s matching up.”

  “Some of the witches have scried things that make the Drow out to be traitors,” Rhiannon added.

  Carden’s face steeled. “Once the king has given his word, he will not go back on it.”

  “Hannah and I both agree with that.” Rhiannon sat straighter in her chair. “So we don’t understand these divinations.”

  “Do you have some way to help us?” Hannah asked.

  Hark studied her for a long moment. “Garran gave of his Drow power to you. I see it in your aura.”

  Unwelcome and unfamiliar heat burned in Hannah’s cheeks, as if they could see exactly how Garran had given her power. “Yes,” she said.

  Hark nodded. “Then we may be able to share visions of the future.”

  “How?” Rhiannon asked.

  Hark pushed his chair away from the table, stood, and extended his hand to Rhiannon. “We need a more private location for this.”

  Carden stood and took Hannah’s hand in his for a moment to help her to her feet. His palm was like Garran’s, warm and callused. He smelled different, too. Earthy, but with a hint of an exotic spice.

  After releasing Hannah’s and Rhiannon’s hands. Hark and Carden escorted them across the great hall to one of the corridors Hannah had not explored with Garran. More of the blue lichen glowed overhead on the high ceiling of the passageway so that Hannah could see comfortably.

  In the middle of the hallway, Hark stopped at a door, opened it, and let them in. Hannah felt a flutter in her chest at being alone with two Drow. She worried that they might not be exactly what they appeared to be—concerned, considerate, and as anxious as she was to find out what was happening with Garran.

  The dim room smelled of unusual spices that Hannah wasn’t familiar with. A little like cinnamon perhaps and cardamom.

  The room was crowded with pieces of furniture jammed up against each other, and bottles, boxes, and other containers covered every surface. A bed took up one end of the room, but it was nowhere near the size of Garran’s, or even the one in the room she’d slept in the night she spent here.

  Hark led the way to a large pillar in the middle of the room. The pillar was about the size of a dinner plate in circumference but reached all the way from the rocky ceiling to the floor. In the dimness of the room, she thought it was made of polished granite.

  “Surround the sight-pillar,” Hark said.

  Hannah frowned, but walked up to it. Hark took her hand on one side, Carden on her other, and they held Rhiannon’s hands on the other side of the pillar.

  “Stare into the stone with the questions we seek to answer. What is the king doing and why is it making him ill?”

  The fluttering in Hannah’s chest escalated as she stared at the pillar. She pushed the questions to the forefront of her mind, willing something—anything—to give them answers.

  Tingles traveled through the hands of the men on either side of her. She tried not to let it break her concentration as she focused.

  She almost stumbled back when the stone turned nearly transparent and dark fog swirled inside it.

  Hannah felt the fog rolling out from the pillar as it touched her and sank into her. At once her senses seemed keener. The cardamom and cinnamon scents in the room grew stronger, joined with something like bay leaf.

  She thought she heard the throb of each person’s heart, their soft breathing, the rustle of their clothing.

  The fog flowing out of the clear column settled over her like a shroud and she shuddered at the icy feeling floating into her bones.

  When fog no longer swirled in the column, a scene started to take place. Garran stood in the meadow, speaking with the Great Guardian.

  Their words played in her mind as they spoke and the scene unfolded. They spoke in another language, probably Elvin, but somehow Hannah understood.

  The Great Guardian told Garran how he could conditionally give his people what they wanted most—to walk in the sunlight.

  She offered him a special power if he helped in the war against Ceithlenn and the Fomorii. A tremendous power that would allow him to send great numbers of the demons back to Underworld.

  Hannah’s heart pounded and she could no longer hear anything except the blood rushing in her ears.

  It was a “three strikes and you’re out” deal.

  The first time he used the power he would become weak—just like he had at the Fomorii cavern.

  The second time he used the power he would become ill—just like he had in the battle on top of the Coit Tower.

  Hannah’s heart pounded so hard it hurt as she heard the Great Guardian’s next words.

  “The third time could cost you much more. It could mean your life. Only one thing can save you should you choose to use this power t
hrice.”

  He could die? Garran could die? But something could save him?

  “And what might that saving grace be?” Garran was asking in the vision.

  “This knowledge could prevent you from attaining it if you know in advance,” the Guardian responded.

  A scream echoed in Hannah’s mind as she silently shouted for Garran to say “No! ” even though she knew his answer already.

  “I accept,” Garran said with clear authority in his voice.

  You bastard, you bastard! Hannah yelled in her mind.

  “He had no right to make such a choice,” Carden growled out loud. “His people need him more than we need sunlight.”

  “We cannot let him use the power a third time,” Hark said. Both men were squeezing her hands so tightly Hannah thought her bones would break.

  The image faded away and she started to release the hands of the Drow holding hers when another scene unfolded and they all stilled.

  In the darkness, with the Golden Gate Bridge in the background, the Drow were waging a battle—

  Against the D’Danann and the witches.

  A man with black hair, blue skin, and black eyes led the battle.

  Drow arrows flew, striking D’Danann. Some of the Drow warriors were decapitated by D’Danann flying over their heads and attacking with their swords.

  The D’Anu witches were in the middle of everything, using their magic.

  “No!” Hannah shouted as she stumbled back and let go of the hands of the Drow to either side of her. She cut her furious gaze from one man to the other. “You are traitors. You are going to attack us.”

  “Vidar.” Carden’s jaw was set and he looked furious as his eyes met Hark’s. “If he has not already done so, it appears he intends to take a legion of our warriors to battle those Garran vowed to help in the San Francisco Otherworld.”

  “We must deal with this at once.” Hark’s anger radiated from him as he strode to the door, Carden at his side. “I hope it is not too late.”

  Rhiannon and Hannah hurried to catch up to them. “You mean one of your own is taking this other war into his own hands?” Hannah asked, her chest aching even more. “It’s not all of the Drow?”