Shadowed

by Evangeline Anderson

  Nina gave a surprised shriek and nearly toppled off the stool. Only the witch’s long-fingered hand saved her from falling.

  “Watch.” Her voice was severe. “See him. See his torment.”

  “Is that your son?” Nina leaned close again. The man she’d thought was a statue was huge—even bigger than Reddix—and he was securely chained to the stone wall with his arms behind his back. He had a strange contraption on his neck too—a little bit like the Hurkon collar. It was dusty black and high, covering most of his strong throat and forcing his chin up into an agonizingly stiff position.

  “Yes, that is Therron.” There was real pain in the witch’s voice now. “But he does not know that—he doesn’t even know his own name. The name I gave him.”

  “Why is he chained like that?” Nina asked. “And why is he covered in that grayish dust? I thought he was a statue.”

  “The dust is powdered verium—it leeches all moisture from the body and induces thirst. A thirst so desperate some say it can cause madness.” The witch’s eyes flashed angrily. “They chain him by the stream to torment him, but they never let him drink.”

  “That’s…terrible,” Nina whispered. “But who would do such a thing? Who has him?

  The witch sighed. “As to that, I do not know. But I do know that the time of his freedom is near.” Her yellow pupils rolled up, leaving only the whites of her eyes visible, and she began to chant in a slow, sonorous voice that didn’t sound like her own.

  “Dark and Light

  Wrong and Right

  When one finds Peace

  The other may Fight

  Day and Night

  Growth and Blight

  One in Love

  The other in Flight

  Tied together

  Fate to fate

  Strangers, brothers

  Mate to mate

  Prisoners they no longer be

  When one is healed

  The other is free.”

  “What…what does that even mean?” Nina sat back, frightened of the witch’s strange new voice. It reminded her of how possessed people always sounded in horror movies. For the first time she began to wonder if maybe the woman was mentally disturbed.

  The witch blinked, her eyes returning to normal. “It means the time of Therron’s freedom is almost near. And your darling Reddix is going to bring it about—whether he knows it or not.”

  “What do you mean?” Nina asked. “How could he possibly—?”

  “Nina? Are you all right?” The new, familiar voice made Nina’s head whip around. There, standing in the doorway of the small cottage, was Reddix.

  “Reddix!” She wanted to jump off the stool to run to him, but the sudden weakness overcame her again, and she could barely lift her hand. “Reddix,” she whispered again.

  “Are you hurt? Did she hurt you?” He came striding over, but the witch was suddenly between them.

  “She’s perfectly fine, warrior.”

  “I heard her screaming! Stand aside and let me go to her.” Reddix’s deep voice was filled with menace.

  “Very well.” The witch stepped aside and let him pass.

  As soon as he put his arms around her, Nina felt as though a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She sighed in relief and pressed her head to his chest.

  “You found me,” she breathed. “How did you know where to look?”

  “Because of this.” He showed her the inside of his right wrist where the snake-like tattoo had shrunk down to a tiny dot.

  “I’ll take that if you please. It has served its purpose well.” The swamp witch held out one long white hand, and the tiny red snake-shaped speck jumped from Reddix’s wrist into her palm. “Excellent.” She looked pleased.

  “Come on.” Reddix pulled Nina off the stool, supporting her almost completely since she was still so weak. “We’re leaving now.”

  “Truly? Leaving without your cure? The cure your beloved paid for with her pain and blood?” The witch raised an eyebrow at Reddix.

  “I want nothing more from you,” he said shortly. “Except that you stay far away from me and mine.”

  “Very well.” The witch shrugged and stepped aside again. Reddix swung Nina into his arms and was about to leave the hut when she added, “But if you ever want her to stop bleeding, you’ll have to take the cure.”

  “What?” He turned, frowning, and Nina looked down at her wrist. The yellow cloth the witch had wrapped around her wound was spotted with blood. As she watched, the bloody splotches grew, and she felt even weaker.

  “Reddix,” she whispered. “Something…something’s wrong.”

  Reddix glared at the witch. “What in the Seven Hells have you done to her, Xandra?”

  “It’s not what I’ve done—it’s what you’re doing, my dear Reddix.” The witch gave him an evil grin. “You see, I started the circle by adding your darling Nina’s blood to my curative potion.” She gestured at the pale purple liquid in the pot, which was now bubbling again as though it had never served time as a magic mirror. “You must complete the circle by drinking some of the potion—only by consuming the blood she sacrificed for you can you staunch the flow of her wound.”

  “That’s sick,” Reddix protested. “I don’t want to drink her blood.”

  The witch shrugged. “I’m afraid it’s the nature of sacrificial magic. A sacrifice, once offered, must be accepted or the one who makes the sacrifice dies. Or in this case, slowly bleeds to death.”

  “Fine.” Reddix put Nina down carefully, still supporting her with one arm. “Give me the potion. I’ll drink it.”

  “As you wish.” The witch picked up a carved wooden mug and dipped it into the contents of the cauldron. She brought it out, brimming with pale purple liquid, and handed it to Reddix. “Drink, warrior. Drink for freedom and an end to pain. Drink to save your female’s life and set free one whose life is linked to yours.”

  Nina began to have a worried feeling. Was the witch only talking about her? Or was she making some veiled reference to the strange man in chains she’d showed Nina in the cauldron—the one she’d claimed was her son. Who had chained him up in the first place? And what would happen if he ever got free?

  “Reddix,” she began. “I don’t think—”

  But Reddix was already downing the contents of the mug. His Adam’s apple worked as he swallowed it all in three long gulps. Then he finished and thrust the mug back at the witch.

  “Here. I’m done with you now.”

  “Very well.” The witch nodded.

  “Is he cured now?” Nina asked. “Of his RTS, I mean?”

  “As much as it was possible to cure him. I could not give him a normal Touch Sense or enable him to give a female the Deep Touch, but the emotions of others will be muted to him now—no more bothersome than a few pesky flies buzzing around his head.”

  “The Deep Touch? What’s that?” Nina asked.

  “Never mind my dear. It’s nothing that will ever concern you.” The witch was smiling now—an expression so gleeful it made Nina feel even more uneasy. What was she so happy about? Surely she wouldn’t get this much joy out of just curing Reddix of his RTS. Would she?

  “And what about the other—the man you showed me in your cauldron?” she asked. “Is he—”

  “Therron is beyond my reach—but not beyond hers,” the witch said mysteriously. “There is one coming soon—one of your own kind, in fact—who will free him of his chains. She will—”

  “Ahh!” The hoarse shout came from Reddix, who had fallen to the ground on his knees. He was clutching the sides of his head and staring blindly at the floor as he shook in pain. “Ah, Gods—my eyes! The pain. The pain,” he groaned.

  Nina looked wildly at the witch. “What did you do to him? Help him!”

  “Oh, didn’t I mention?” The witch smiled nastily. “The potion is effective in curing RTS, but there are a few…side effects.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Reddix fell to the ground, brig
ht lights flashing behind his eyes and searing pains stabbing through his skull. The sudden, blinding pain was as bad or worse than anything he had experienced with the Hurkon collar, and it wouldn’t stop—it went on and fucking on.

  Dimly he heard Nina demanding that the witch help him, but Xandra only said something about side effects and that the pain had to run its course. He wanted to ask how long it would take—how much more he would have to endure—it felt like someone was driving silver spikes through his eyes and straight into his brain. But then, as suddenly as it had come, the pain was gone.

  Reddix blinked his eyes and started to get up—until he realized he couldn’t see anything at all. Everything was completely black. And then the witch started speaking again—but this time he didn’t hear her with his ears. This time he heard her with his mind.

  “Listen to me Reddix, son of Redan,” she whispered in his mind. “The time has come for us to part ways, but you have served your purpose well. In return, I will show you something few are privileged to see—a glimpse of your future.”

  Reddix opened his mouth, wanting to protest that he didn’t want anything else from her, that he didn’t want to see his future. But then the blackness that covered his eyes cleared, and the vision unfolded before him…

  “Reddix, did you bring the milk I asked you to get?” Nina stood just inside the door of their suite on the Mother Ship.

  “Milk?” he asked coming in and giving her a peck on the cheek. “You mean the white liquid you squeeze from animals on your home planet?”

  She sighed in exasperation. “Yes, pretty much. I’m all out of it, and I wanted some for my coffee. I asked Lissa to ask Saber through their link to tell you. Didn’t he?”

  “He must have forgotten.” Reddix sighed and started to head for the door. “I’m sorry—I’ll go get some now.”

  “No…forget it.” Nina put a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get some later.”

  “I don’t mind,” Reddix protested. “I know you miss Earth. I want you to have things that remind you of home. Things that make you happy.”

  “I am happy.” She gave him a small troubled smile. “It’s just that…”

  “Just that what?” Reddix asked.

  Nina shook her head and moved away from him. “Just…I wish we had a mental connection like Lissa and Saber and Kat and Lock and Deep…and pretty much all the other Kindred and their wives. It would make things so much more convenient. And…I’d feel so much closer to you.”

  Pain stabbed through him and shame too—shame that he couldn’t give her what she wanted. What she needed. What any normal male would have been able to give.

  “We’ve been over this,” he growled. “I told you before we got joined that I would never be able to really bond you to me. You said it didn’t matter.”

  Nina frowned. “But it does matter, Reddix! I just want what every other woman on this ship has. I just want to feel close to you.”

  “We can feel close,” he murmured, coming to take her in his arms. “Very, fucking close, sweetheart.”

  Nina kissed him willingly, her soft, curvy body tight against his. Reddix enjoyed tasting her mouth as she moaned softly and pressed against him. When they finally came up for air, he tried to lead her to the bedroom.

  “Wait…” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Reddix, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what exactly does the Deep Touch mean? And what does it feel like? You’ll never talk about it to me, but I’ve heard things…”

  A second lance of pain and shame pierced his heart. “The Deep Touch?”

  “Well…yes. Lissa was talking about it, and she said it’s amazing. I just wondered…”

  “It has nothing to do with you. With either of us,” Reddix said shortly, pulling away. “Forget about it. I’ll never be able to give it to you.”

  “But I thought…thought maybe just trying it might draw us together,” Nina protested.

  “Don’t you understand?” he roared. “I have an inverted Touch Sense! I can’t give you that—I’ll never be able to give you that.”

  Nina recoiled from him, her eyes bright with tears.

  “I’m sorry. I never should have said…I just wanted…”

  “Wanted what?” he growled impatiently.

  “You’re so distant lately, Reddix. I just want to feel close to you…I never feel like I really know you. Like I can really talk to you…” She swiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry…”

  “She will never feel close to you—not as she should,” the witch’s voice whispered in his mind. “Without a working Touch Sense you’ll never really bond her to you, never give her the Deep Touch. Never make her yours completely. You’ll make her life miserable, Reddix. And eventually, she will leave you because of it.”

  The scene changed, and this time he saw Nina carrying a heavy suitcase and crying.

  “Goodbye,” she was saying, as she left the suite. Her grandmother—Mehoo-Jimmy—was waiting just outside for her.

  “Come on, eecho,” she said soothingly. “Come away now. He’s no good for you.”

  “Nina,” Reddix whispered, but her name stuck in his throat.

  “Goodbye,” she said again, and tears were streaming from her eyes. “Oh, Reddix, it breaks my heart to go, but I can’t…can’t stay with you. Can’t live with a man I can’t understand. Who won’t communicate with me. I’m sorry—I need more than that.”

  And then she turned her back on him. With no bond to hold her to him, it was just that easy. She could walk out of his life and leave him forever. Leave and never come back again…

  “Wait!” Reddix wanted to shout. “Wait, I’ll do better, I’ll give more…” But it was too late, Nina had already turned, and she and her grandmother were gone as though they had never been there in the first place.

  “This is your future,” the witch whispered to him once more. “I wish I could show you something more pleasant since you’ve been so helpful, but the potion tells only the truth.”

  “That can’t be true,” he protested, mind-shouting at her. “Nina wouldn’t leave me like that.”

  “But of course, she would. My dear Reddix, what do you think holds a Kindred and his bride together? What enables two people from such vastly different cultures—from different planets—to join as one? It is the life-bond. The mind connection that the Goddess grants to all her children when they become one in her name. Without it, they are too different to understand each other for long. Too disparate to make their love work. Without the bond, your love for Nina and hers for you will wither and die like a plant deprived of water.”

  “That can’t be! I refuse to believe it.”

  The witch gave a kind of mental shrug. “Believe or not, I don’t really care. But I warn you, the potion never lies-all that I have shown you is true. If you join with Nina and you are unable to bond her to you, she will eventually leave you. Not only will the lost love ruin your life but hers as well. She will be miserable all her days. That, Reddix, son of Redan, is your future and hers, if you choose to inflict it on her. And now, I release you to go your way.”

  There was a brief, brilliant light, and suddenly, he could see again. Reddix blinked, looking around the witch’s hut, coming back to the real world. Nina was kneeling beside him crying and tugging on his arm.

  “Reddix,” she choked. “Are you all right? Please tell me you’re all right. Please.”

  “I’m all right,” he muttered, getting slowly to his feet. “It’s okay—I’m all right.”

  “Oh, thank God!” Still crying, Nina reached up to touch his face. But she looked so much like she had in the evil vision the witch had shown him, he couldn’t help pulling away.

  “I’m fine,” he said, taking her hand to keep her from reaching for him again. “Let’s just go. The gathering is probably already underway. Saber needs my support.”

  “All right.” Nina gave him a bewildered look. “And…you’re sure everything is all right?”

  “He is
fine, my dear.” The witch smiled at them, her yellow eyes flashing pure gold for a moment.

  “If you’ve hurt him for good—damaged him permanently in some way…” Nina glared at her.

  The witch threw back her head and laughed—a shrill sound that seemed to pierce right through him. “Oh, my dear…he was damaged long before I did anything to him. But never fear, the momentary side effect of my potion is over, never to be repeated. Your lover should have nothing but a lingering memory to remind him of our little encounter.” She looked at Reddix meaningfully. “Farewell to both of you, warrior and…good luck on your future together.”

  “You—” he began.

  “Yes?” The witch smiled sweetly.

  Reddix wanted to call her a poisonous bitch, but the words died in his mouth. There was nothing left to say. Nothing to do but go.

  “Reddix? Is everything all right?” Nina was still looking at him anxiously.

  “Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s just get away from here.”

  They left the witch’s hovel and began the long slog back through the swamp.

  But try as he might, Reddix couldn’t get the scene the witch had showed him out of his head. And he couldn’t help thinking of her words, If you join with Nina and you are unable to bond her to you, she will eventually leave you…She will be miserable all her days.

  He didn’t have a working Touch Sense—there was no way he could bond with Nina. No way at all.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  “…and that is why I stand before you, declaring my intention to take my father’s place as OverChief of the Touch Kindred clans when he steps down,” Saber was saying as Nina and Reddix stepped quietly into the large auditorium. Like all the buildings she had seen on Tarsia, the large public space was spherical. It was also completely packed with important looking men Nina assumed were clan leaders, sitting at the front, as well as a huge number of regular citizens. The clan leaders were mostly older men, but she did see at least two that were Saber’s age. Everyone assembled wore somber expressions. Apparently the Touch Kindred took their public meetings very seriously.