Shade Cursed: A Druidverse Urban Fantasy Novel (The Shadow Changeling Series Book 1)

by M. D. Massey

  Rather than spinning to face the threat I’d warned of, instead Hemi dove away. Displaying the grace of a man half his size, he did a shoulder roll, completing it by turning and coming up on his feet to face his attacker. And just as well, as the fae duelist barely missed his attempt to skewer the Maori from behind.

  Hemi snarled as he and the fae faced each other, the warrior showing greater caution as he realized that this combatant was perhaps the most dangerous of the four. They circled each other like cats, the fae duelist testing Hemi’s defense with quick thrusts and whip-like cuts aimed all around his body. To the Maori’s credit, he deflected each attack with quick flicks of the short jade club. Unfortunately, he was outmatched by the superior reach of the duelist’s longer primary weapon, and eventually would succumb to fatigue or error.

  Refusing to sit idly by while my rescuer was skewered by a fae blade, I leaned hard against the bars of the cage, getting my head, shoulder and arm through the bars. The anti-magic field only worked inside the boundaries of the cage, so if part of my body was outside the cage, theoretically, I could cast magic. As I attempted to conjure shade magic, I felt the nauseating tingle of the anti-magic field tampering with my ability to control my powers. Struggling against the resistance, I was finally able to summon a pencil-thin, whip-like tentacle of shadow… and that was all.

  It would have to do. I snapped the shadow tentacle forth, latching on to the linchpin that held the zombies’ harnesses in place. Pouring every ounce of will into the effort, I gave it a good hard pull, freeing the linchpin and sending it flying into the woods.

  The zombies had already been excited by the smell of fresh blood and the sounds of combat all around them. As soon as they were free, they jumped at the opportunity to feed, rushing directly at the fae duelist’s back. He was quick, and wary, I’d give him that. But he spun to face the threat too late to save himself, and he fell under the onslaught of a half-dozen eternally hungry undead.

  The bauchan duelist was still screaming when Hemi came to release me. That, combined with the sounds of the hellhounds feeding on the corpses of the fallen, made for a grisly auditory backdrop to our conversation.

  “You’d best get me out of here quickly, so I can deal with the undead.”

  “No need,” the Maori said. “I can handle ’em.”

  “Ah yes, of course. Just the same, I’d prefer to be released as soon as possible.”

  He chuckled and smashed his enchanted jade club into the lock that secured the cage. Rather than shattering into a million pieces as any mundane weapon would, the club flashed with bright blue with magic as it smashed the hasp apart. Hemi grabbed the door and swung it wide, stepping aside so I could exit the small, cramped space.

  I stepped out, stretching muscles and cracking joints that had become stiff from disuse, as well as from the effects of the anti-magic field. As I felt myself come back into full contact with my shade, it screamed that it needed to feed. The thing’s hunger was overwhelming, and for a moment I nearly lost control. The Maori must’ve seen something in my eyes, or perhaps it was the dark mien that often came over me when the shade was trying to break free from its cage.

  “Some privacy, if you will—” I gasped as I stumbled toward the still whimpering fae swordsman. Hemi cocked an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he turned to face the other direction. As soon as I had the privacy I requested, I relaxed my hold on the shade. Immediately, it snapped out several dark, oily tentacles at the dying fae, tossing the undead off his body like rag dolls so it could latch itself to the bauchan’s chest.

  The shade then used those appendages to siphon away the last remaining life force that the fae swordsman possessed. A gasp of sheer hopeless terror escaped from the bauchan’s throat as it protested the cruel fate to which it had been subjected. I ignored the fae’s outcry, reminding myself that he’d been more than willing to turn me over to the most heartless and cruel sorceress in Underhill, just moments before.

  As the shade fed, I gathered my will and steeled my resolve in preparation for restraining the shade the moment it stopped feeding. The creature was always easier to control after it had fed, as it grew sluggish and torpid when it had fully sated its hunger on some hapless creature’s soul. Moments later, when it withdrew its tentacles, I mentally slammed down the locks on the shade’s cage. Then I drew both cage and creature back into my center, where it would bide its time until it grew hungry once more.

  Mentally and physically exhausted, I slumped against the side of the cart. The wagon rocked and creaked as it protested against my weight, drawing Hemi’s attention. When he approached to offer me a hand, I waved him off.

  “I’ll be fine. Just give me a few moments,” I said.

  Hemi made deep rumbling sound, giving me a look that was more concern than judgment. He was a good man—or demigod, if you preferred—and I was glad for his company, especially considering what I had to do next. Hopefully, he’d not object overly to my chosen course of action.

  22

  “Hemi, did you see anyone pass you in the cavern before you came after me?”

  “Nope, no one.” He kept a casual eye on the now scattered zombies as he spoke, but his caution proved unnecessary. After the treatment they had received from my shade, they were too broken to pose a threat. “When ya’ didn’t come back, figured something happened.”

  “You came after me, thinking I was in trouble. Embarrassed as I am at being captured, I can’t say I’m displeased that you doubted my ability to stay out of trouble.”

  “Yeah, well—” He scratched his head and shrugged. “I’ve been mates with Colin for a while. He tends to get in a lot of trouble.”

  “So it’s become habitual, to make sure your friends aren’t in peril?” I asked, straight-faced.

  “Yep,” the Maori replied.

  I glanced at the dogs who were now happily licking their paws and muzzles clean after their rather gruesome meal. “Tell me about the hounds. How did you get them to come along?”

  “Oh, that was easy,” he said as an easygoing grin split his face. “Had a chat, the dogs and me. They’re a bit miffed at their masters—or they were, anyways. Said I was coming to look for you, they tagged along. Simple as that.”

  I almost cracked a smile, but I managed to restrain myself. “Again, I am not displeased. However, I do not wish to stick around Underhill longer than necessary. I need to find the wizard who locked me in that cage, so I can get the answers I seek before Mother comes for me personally.”

  “And?” Hemi asked.

  “I doubt very seriously that Griff had arranged to take me all the way across Underhill to my mother’s castle. Obviously, she was too busy with other matters to retrieve me herself, and thus assigned the task to her underlings. I would imagine they were headed for an outlying keep, where I was to be held until her arrival. Based on the direction we were headed and the rate we were traveling, I can guess we’d have arrived at the outpost tomorrow morn. That means Fuamnach will not portal in until tomorrow sometime, which gives us plenty of time to find that wizard.”

  “The one that’s been taking kids?”

  “Yes.”

  “You wanna’ go to this keep and sort him out?”

  “I do. The wizard I was looking for went back into the cavern after they captured me. Since he didn’t pass you while you were in the cavern, I would bet he saw you and the hellhounds and thought better of returning to Earth. Chances are good he headed to the keep to speak with Fuamnach, but by another route.”

  “You saying he portalled there?”

  I shrugged. “Perhaps. Else he’d have caught up to this caravan already, either joining us or passing us on the road.”

  “Portal magic—that’s powerful stuff.”

  “Indeed. However, he’s somehow managed to garner greater magical power than a wizard would normally have at his age—even one with half-fae parentage.”

  “Go on,” Hemi said, indicating he thought there was more to the story.

&n
bsp; “The last time we battled, he had a star vampire as his familiar.”

  “That’s a void creature,” the Maori said. “Dangerous.”

  “And yet another reason why I want to stop him,” I said. “He didn’t amass such power on his own, and the fae don’t give their power away easily, even to a half-breed like him. He’s a pivotal player in this entire scheme, albeit the middle-man. If I can apprehend and—question—him, I might put a stop to this operation.”

  “Likely to be more like this wizard. Gods and powers always have lots of flunkies.”

  I gave a grim nod. “Indeed, but at least it’s a start. And I’ll attest, based on personal experience, most of the humans they traffic won’t make it more than a few months down here. And those who do survive—” I let the sentence hang in the air, unfinished.

  “I get it,” he said, his mouth set in a hard line. “You think any kids are at that keep?”

  “I don’t doubt it,” I said.

  “Lots of killing ahead, then.” He pursed his lips. “Give me a sec, eh? I’m gonna summon better weapons.”

  When he’d finished his preparations, I pointed at the hellhounds. “What do you think the chances are they’ll let us ride them?”

  Hemi cocked his head sideways and stared at the dogs. After several long seconds, he grunted and turned his gaze back to me. “Tooth and Claw say they’ll do it.”

  It was my turn to arch an eyebrow. “The hounds are named ‘Tooth’ and ‘Claw’?”

  “Don’t look at me, mate. I didn’t name ’em.”

  “And you can speak to them telepathically?”

  “Any underworld creature. Piece of piss, actually.”

  “It must be handy, having a death goddess for a mother.”

  At that, his normally jovial expression soured. “Has its moments… and drawbacks.”

  “Well, then, we best be moving on,” I said, ignoring his previous comment.

  I wasn’t good about talking about such things, so I preferred to simply gloss over such matters when they came up in conversation. Hemi must’ve understood my discomfort, because he merely nodded and whistled at the hounds. The dogs stood on command, loping lazily to our sides and laying down so we could mount their backs.

  I vaulted atop mine, wondering at the ease with which the Maori warrior had recruited them to our cause. He was an interesting character, and full of surprises, and I was surprisingly glad to count him among my very few friends.

  “Lead the way,” he said with a nod down the road.

  “It’s not far, at least not riding these magnificent creatures,” I said, eliciting a happy yip from the hound I rode. “I estimate we should arrive within two Earth hours.”

  “Tooth here says he’s been there,” Hemi said. “And he knows a shortcut. Last one there’s a rotten egg!” Hemi shouted as his mount took off at a sprint through the mushroom forest.

  “Oh, darkness, help me,” I muttered as I gently nudged my hound with my heels, goading him to lope off after his companion.

  Roughly one-quarter mile from the keep, we dismounted and gave the hounds instructions to hide and wait for our signal. I didn’t want to endanger them any further than we already had, and thus we left them safely behind. Once the hounds were settled, Hemi and I snuck quietly to the edge of the woods, keeping to the shadows while I spun magic to keep us hidden.

  At the edge of the woods, the giant mushrooms thinned out, giving way to a hundred-yard clearing that ran from the forest’s edge to the keep’s moat. There we crouched down to watch and observe the enemy’s movements for a time. Within half an hour, we had noted two outer patrols that passed us at ten-minute intervals along with a minimal watch on the walls.

  Security at the outpost was lax, as I’d expected. This keep was well within my adoptive mother’s territory and not likely to be attacked by any of her rivals. I turned to Hemi and signaled for him to fall back a few yards with me, so we could discuss our plan of action.

  “I’m going to sneak in by climbing over the wall, then I’ll take out the sentries on the battlements. Once I do, I’ll pull you up and we can make our way into the keep.”

  “Nope. I’m coming with you.”

  “I said that I would pull you up after I’d taken care of the sentries. Do you not trust me to handle that on my own?”

  Hemi frowned. “You’re handy enough. Still wouldn’t hurt to have backup.”

  I rubbed my chin and nodded. “I suppose you’re right. I can conceal you with my magic—”

  Hemi cut me off with a wave of his hand. “No need. Got it covered.”

  I thought back to the shadow that I had seen approaching the cart earlier, and how Hemi had stealthily ambushed my captors. Obviously, he had concealment magic of his own. As I wrapped myself in shadow, I watched out of the corner of my eye as he went through a short haka, after which he seemingly melted away into the background.

  Underworld magic. How peculiar.

  Once we were both concealed, I led the way across the stump-filled, rocky divide between the edge of the forest and the moat. A patrol had just passed our position, giving us plenty of time to cross the clearing and breach the keep’s walls. When we reached the moat, I tossed a stone into the water on the far side of the nearest corner of the keep in hopes of distracting the sentries.

  The noise did the trick, and within seconds, the guard assigned to our side of the wall had joined his partner on the other side. Once the guards’ eyes were diverted, I pulled us up the wall, scaling it like a spider on the dark, oily tentacles that my shade provided. Upon reaching the top we hid in an alcove, then I went right and Hemi went left. Each of us would clear the battlements one side to another, silently taking out any sentries we came across along the way.

  As I approached the nearest corner of the keep, I spotted the guards we had just fooled, each posted on either side of the corner battlement. One was an ettin, a smallish, deformed variety of giant known for being brutal and efficient combatants, both due to their size and their innate ferocity. The other sentry was a lowborn fae who was much smaller, but perhaps no less dangerous an opponent.

  I had no desire to directly engage either of them, so I came upon them unseen, wrapping my tentacles around their necks and dragging them over the wall. As they fell, I yanked back hard, abruptly stopping their downward momentum so gravity could do the work of ending their miserable lives. Then I pierced their lungs and guts with shadow thorns before pushing their bodies to the bottom of the moat. Once the bodies were hidden, I moved on to the next corner of the keep.

  There I found a troll and a goblin, both dressed in piecemeal armor that looked to have been made from random assortment of junk. Rather than maintaining the watch, they were playing dice near a small fire in the corner of the battlement. Again, I strangled them and hung them over the side of the keep, then I hid their bodies in the moat below.

  Once that was done, I moved on to the rally point, sticking to the shadows as I kept an eye out for danger. Hemi was waiting for me when I arrived. After a brief, hushed exchange to assure each other everything had gone to plan, we snuck down a nearby stairwell into the courtyard below.

  There we found a cobblestone yard, neglected and littered with refuse, discarded equipment, and human bones. We remained hidden in the shadows of the wall, scanning the courtyard for any sign of life. Soon I spotted two dwarves sitting on tree stumps in front of a fire, warming their hands as a large hunk of meat roasted on a spit, the provenance of which I didn’t care to identify. Behind them, iron cages open to the elements contained perhaps a half-dozen human children and teens.

  There beside the fire lay the fresh corpse of a young boy, a lad of no more than six or seven. Based on the way the blood had sprayed the ground, they’d butchered him while he was still alive. Their kind preferred fresh, warm flesh—the younger, the better. My mind observed the scene, detached and calculating, until my gaze shifted from the missing leg to the child’s face.

  Oh, how he’d suffered. Thoug
h his mouth was frozen in a silent scream, his dead eyes spoke volumes to me from across the yard.

  Avenge me.

  I fought to maintain my composure as my mind harkened back to my first days in Underhill. With all memories of my previous life erased, my world back then consisted only of an endless cycle of fear and pain. Even now I heard the whip’s crack, I felt the cuts on my back, and I remembered the harsh, guttural tongue of the dwarves who punished me for disobeying them, even though I understood nothing they said.

  It had been a long time since I’d been forced to dredge up those terrible recollections. For decades I’d suppressed them, having learned long ago that survival meant focusing on what lay ahead, never allowing myself the luxury of being distracted by what I’d left behind. But seeing the children in those cages ignited a hatred deep within me. As I watched them huddle and shiver in the cold, their dirt and snot-stained faces lined with the same fear and confusion I once felt, my heart blazed with unbridled rage.

  Only then did I realize what had brought me here. Yes, I’d come to kill the wizard. But more than that, I had come to settle with my past.

  Without a word I stalked around the yard until I was behind the two dwarves. I had no idea if Hemi had followed, and frankly I didn’t care. My only thought was delivering that which that child’s silent pleas had demanded of me.

  Vengeance.

  Cloaked in darkness, I hovered behind the two unseelie fae, a literal shadow of death. The children noticed me long before the fae did, so intent were the two dwarves on preparing their ghastly meal. A younger child let out a low whine at the sight of me, and I smelled warm urine as she involuntarily emptied her bladder.

  That I’d added to her horror angered me even more.

  “Shut up, whelp,” one of the dwarves snarled.

  “Ignore ’em. Anyway, meat’s almost done.” The other dwarf poked at the haunch with a grimy, bloodstained finger. “Gonna be good eating. Young ones always are.”