How to Hunt a Menacing Magical Shadow

by Christine Schulz

  “I guess. You can start upstairs. Check everything. And everywhere. Lamps, radios, pictures, windows, doors...don’t leave anything unchecked.”

  “Got it, boss.”

  Lizzy and I continued to sweep the house. When she was satisfied it was clean, our stomachs began rumbling so we made our way into the kitchen to find something to eat.

  “I don’t suppose you cook?” I questioned Lizzy, half curious to see if the woman who just experienced hot chocolate for the first time knew how to cook a homemade meal. Blair was usually the one doing all the cooking.

  “Of course I can cook. I’m not useless like you are. I was going to make...uh...” She rummaged through the cabinets and refrigerator trying to quickly piece something together. “...this.” She proudly set down some sliced cheese, a package of bacon, a stick of butter, and a bag of frozen french fries. Buttery bacon cheese fries?

  “I think you’re missing a main ingredient.” She curled an eyebrow, shocked at herself that she had actually put together any semblance of a meal.

  I slid a loaf of white bread across the counter. This place was fully stocked with food that would last us for months, if it didn’t go bad first. “Grilled cheese sandwiches,” I explained as she studied the ingredients on the counter.

  “Of course. That’s what I was thinking too.” Her need to always be right was extremely irritating. But, at least now I understood why she did it.

  She began opening and shutting every drawer and cabinet in the oversized kitchen, an attempt to make it look like she knew what she was doing. I observed until she had run out of places to search, then decided my rumbling stomach couldn’t wait any longer. “Sit down. I can handle this.” She reluctantly accepted and positioned herself on a stool at the breakfast bar.

  I admit I wasn’t not much of a cook, but it wasn’t overly difficult to melt cheese on bread and cook some bacon. All I needed to do was not burn it.

  Lizzy watched with curious eyes as I dumped the bag of fries on a sheet pan, then placed a few slices of bacon in a sizzling skillet. Smoke billowed from the pan and filled the kitchen, the bacon turning a nice charred black. Whoops.

  I assembled the sandwiches before putting them back into a hot pan with melted butter. We popped open a bottle of wine labeled in a language neither of us could read and ate our gourmet dinner at the breakfast bar.

  After dinner we cleaned up, and I ventured back to the living room to watch some TV.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” The place was eerily silent, and her sharp voice actually startled me. I glanced back at her with a look of uncertainty.

  “I was gonna maybe pop in a movie or something.”

  “No. You’re coming with me upstairs. You promised you’d do this for me.”

  “Uhh…” What did I actually agree to? She pulled me off the couch and dragged me up the stairs into her bedroom.

  “Sit on the bed,” she demanded.

  “What exactly are you planning?” This was getting quite uncomfortable. I thought about making a run for it, but then figured it wasn’t like I could go anywhere. I was stuck here. With her. For who knows how long. I had to make the best of it.

  I toed my shoes off and sat at the edge of the blue and tan striped comforter, my feet barely touching the plush carpeted floor.

  “Completely on the bed.” I dared not defy her, so I pushed myself to the middle of the firm king sized bed, crossing my legs and keeping one eye on Lizzy.

  “OK...now what?” She dimmed the lights in the room and lit a candle. The smell of sage and citrus started permeating the air. This was getting more awkward by the second. What’s next, soothing jazz vibes?

  She pushed a button on the radio and the gentle sound of crashing water ensued. She crawled on the bed and crossed her legs, scooting closer across from me until our toes almost touched each other. She opened her palm, and a black tattoo disappeared from her right arm, manifesting in her hand in the shape of a dagger.

  “Still really confused here.” I think I could rule out anything romantic. Not that I would have expected that from her in the first place. Unless maybe she had some kinky fetish...wait, why was I even thinking about this?

  Lizzy took my hand and held it in hers, finally speaking. “Relax. I never got to explain back at the cafe. So...you know about my...ability...well, I was thinking...about this whole conspiracy thing you told us about. How you think someone targeted your mom. And how you were pretty much unharmed while everyone else was...well...basically I’ve been working on something new. Instead of mind control, I thought maybe I could try reading your mind. Instead of forcing you to move your body, forcing out a memory you may have buried that night.”

  “Huh? But your power doesn’t work on me. We’ve tried this before.”

  “We can always try again. And now that I know about your ability, I know that I need to adjust a little. Your skill doesn’t make you invincible; you’ve experienced that first hand. It just takes a little extra push from the opposing user to make it effective. And if you don’t try to stop it, it might work a little better.” In one smooth motion, the dagger sliced clear across the length of her palm. Crimson liquid started pooling in the center.

  “Woah, what are you doing? Lizzy, you don’t have to do this. You don’t need to hurt yourself for me.”

  A bashful smile glistened on her pale face shadowed by the dim light. She batted her eyes in an adoring expression. For a moment, I thought there might still be a chance she’d pounce on me.

  “I want to do this. We’ve been unfair in upholding our end of the deal. You’ve helped us, and we have done little to help you. But, you’ll have to relive that day, exactly as it played out. It’s not going to be easy. If you don’t want to—”

  “I’ll do it. And for the record, while you may not have done much to help clear my name, I do appreciate you giving me a place to stay. Food to eat. And training. As brutal as it is, if I’m going up against Nolan and the Black Mark I won’t last five minutes in the condition I’m currently in.”

  A soft smile expressed her relief. She then flipped my hand over. “Sorry, you need to do this too.” And without giving me a chance to realize what she was about to do, the smooth, cold blade sliced across my palm.

  “Errrrrrr…” I stifled the pain that burned my hand.

  “Wuss,” she harassed.

  She then placed her palms on top of mine, gently resting them against my bent knees.

  “OK. First, you need to relax, Adrian. You’re way too tense. Let everything go, and let me into your mind. Share with me your memories. The good and the bad. Push aside any barriers that might be holding me...us...back.”

  Barriers I thought to myself. Would she be able to see that deep into my mind? Into my...other...self?

  “Adrian, focus. Your mind is wandering.”

  I pushed the thought aside and began replaying that day in my head from the first point I remembered. I was young, only eight. If not for the tragedy that occurred, that day would have likely been lost to history, filed as another average adventure in the life of Adrian Cotter.

  My dad was packing the SUV one late afternoon. A cooler. A tent. Sleeping bags. Flashlights. We were going camping. My parents seemed frantic, rushing around and repeating things over and over reminding themselves not to forget anything important.

  I was sitting in the back seat with my older sister, Penelope, who was twelve at the time. Her chocolatey brown wavy hair bounced just below her shoulders, and she brushed a loose curl behind her ear while scowling at me to mind my own business.

  “Mind your own business, dork.” She stuck up her nose at me.

  “Shut up, Penny.” We both looked in opposite directions as the doors slammed shut and we reversed out of the driveway, on our way to the camp ground.

  It was a pretty uneventful ride. Quiet, other than some talk show softly playing on the radio. My sister had her headphones on, and I was thumbing through a comic book.

  Two hours into the ride
, the skies darkened, then opened up into a downpour. We had been deep into the woods at this point, nearing our destination.

  My sister started complaining. “There is no way I am camping in this!” Her words were rebellious, but the sound was comforting like a bedtime lullaby. I hadn’t heard that voice in almost twenty years. I had forgotten it, forgotten her face, the way she fidgeted with her hair when she was annoyed. I squeezed my eyes, and subconsciously squeezed Lizzy’s hand. My heart jumped and a flurry of emotions began fluttering throughout my stomach. My throat constricted. I wanted to call out to her and let her know how much I missed having her around. We may not have seen eye to eye as kids, but I was sure as adults we would have been best friends.

  “Adrian, you need to push through the feelings. Continue. Show me what happens next.”

  I forced myself to return to the memory and the life altering turn of events about to unfold.

  “Mom, I’m hungry. And I have to pee.” It was now my turn to complain.

  “Honey, we’re almost there. Hold on just a little longer.” Her soft blue eyes peered over the passenger’s seat and she gave me an assuring smile.

  “But I have to go now…” I countered with a childish, whiney voice.

  “Adrian, there is no place for us to stop. You’ll just have to—”

  The sound of screeching tires cut her off. A thump hit the hood of the car, fracturing the windshield. The mass continued rolling over the roof, ultimately being thrown somewhere behind the car.

  I didn’t get to see what it was. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the impact. The car violently veered off the road and began to flip on its side. My young, frail body lifted from the seat, arms floating above me, tightness from the seatbelt crushing my chest. The centrifugal force of the car snapped my neck awkwardly to the side, smashing against the window and leaving behind a splatter of blood.

  I heard nothing. I felt no pain. It was like my body had frozen in time, but everything around me was speeding up. My head whipped back in the other direction as the vehicle again flipped over on itself and continued its descent down the mountainous slope.

  I was too violently being thrashed around to focus on anything other than myself. A faint crunching sound mixed with a ringing in my ears. The side door bent inward, shattering the window glass, metal punching my thigh with exceptional force. A burning sensation radiated up my leg. My vision went in and out, catching glimpses of blurry objects being thrown about in the car. Thick wooden branches gouged me across the face through the empty window. The occasional rain drop wet my skin, mixing with the streaming blood dripping from the wounds covering my body, taking my life with it.

  The whole incident was over in seconds, but it would leave a lifetime of gut wrenching memories. My heart began racing, both inside and outside the memory. My breathing labored, the metallic taste of blood slipping down my throat. Without disrupting the vision, I felt Lizzy’s thumbs stroking the top of my hands back and forth, a subconscious reminder to calm down.

  My body eventually stopped moving. Slowly, the feeling of pins and needles overtook my arms and legs. It then intensified into hot knives stabbing me over every inch of my mangled body. I wanted to cry, to scream, but I couldn’t do a damn thing. My body wasn’t responding.

  I don’t remember any of this happening. Other than the aftermath, most of that day was a blur to me. But it did happen. And through Lizzy’s magic I could relive every torturous moment of it just as it had originally been.

  My bleary eyes tried to open. Everything was spinning in a continuous daze, and I couldn’t make out much. I heard nothing but the loud ringing that threatened to rupture my eardrums. A lifeless, unrecognizable figure appeared as a haze next to me, which I knew had to be my sister. My dad in front of me in the driver's seat probably also gone.

  But I knew my mother was still alive. “Help! Someone help!” It sounded like a soft whisper. I couldn’t tell if she was trying to scream or if my ears were blocking the noise.

  She must have been thrown out of the car at some point, because she crawled to me from a distance and with her one good arm slowly dragged me out through the empty window inch by inch.

  “Adrian, ADRIAN! SOMEONE HELP!” Her one functional hand caressed my cheek. Rain and tears pelted my face. It was cold. I was cold. I was...dying? But how could that be?

  Doubtful that anyone would arrive to help, my mother just laid there next to me sobbing as my mind slipped in and out.

  A spark of hope then piqued her attention. “Hello? Hello! Is someone there? Please help us!”

  A hooded man appeared out of the shadowy grove of trees and stood over me. My vision was fuzzy, and I couldn’t make out his face. The man kneeled down beside me. “Your son is dying. He doesn’t have much time.”

  “Do something! Save him!” My mom begged, like he could somehow magically reverse time.

  But that appeared to be exactly what he did. “I can heal him. But it may come to you at a cost.”

  “I don’t care! Save him, NOW!” Her voice was laced with both anger and distress. She wanted to save her baby boy, what mother wouldn’t? It didn’t matter what it would cost her.

  The space around me started to warm. The mysterious visitor who seemingly appeared out of nowhere lifted his head up into the wet sky, making a random assortment of hand gestures and movements. Then, he pulled them down placing his flat hands on top of my chest.

  At that point my vision went completely black, but I could still feel and hear what was going on. The warmness around me soaked into my skin, tingling as it traveled from my chest outwards to my hands, feet, and head, restoring life along the way.

  The welcoming warmth of the magic forced out the icy cold of death. It was all slowly starting to come back. Figures began surfacing through the previous darkness. I was nauseous, dizzy, and parched. I twitched my fingers with life ever so slightly. I can assume his mysterious power had completely healed me since I suffered no lasting effects from that day, not even a scar.

  The man healing me flopped sideways into a pile of shrubbery. “Sir...sir are you OK?” My mom leaned over me to shake him. “Sir, what’s going—”

  Get out! The voice in my head no longer welcomed us inside this memory. The sudden demand broke my concentration, and everything disappeared.

  My eyes shot open to Lizzy’s astonished face, the unexpected snap back into reality nearly causing her to fall off the bed. Our hands still together, I squeezed her wrists tightly to catch her and pull her back up.

  “What...what the hell was that?” My shaking bones were terrified at what Lizzy might respond, wondering if she also heard the voice.

  She stared at me for a moment before answering, “Adrian you’re…you’re dead.”

  Chapter 27

  F or a moment there I thought she was serious.

  “Ha. Funny. I hate to disappoint, but I’m alive and...sort of well.”

  Lizzy slid off the bed and rummaged through her backpack, extracting a white plastic box. She pinched it open, selected a tube of ointment and unscrewed the top. A clear gel squeezed out and she smeared it across the cut on my palm.

  “Sana.” The magic warmed my skin, burning slightly as the shallow wound began sealing shut before my eyes. Then she grabbed a bottle of pills. “You should also take these, since you’re still recovering from using too much magic.”

  She dropped two white pills into my hand, what I have come to learn were like aspirin for overexerting magic.

  Lizzy nervously packed everything back into the medical kit then took her time carefully placing the contents back into her bag. She brightened the lights, then blew out the candle and shut off the music. She was avoiding eye contact, trembling, trying to hide whatever was on her mind. She was whiter than her usual ghostly glow, the color completely drained from her face. Whatever she saw in my mind terrified her. And now she was terrifying me.

  “Lizzy, this isn’t funny. What did you mean ‘I’m dead’? What the hell happened?”


  “I—I don’t know how to tell you this. The Adrian you think you are really is dead. That technique...I’ve seen it before. It’s a spell called Soul Separation. It’s illegal. And dangerous. It’s also something only a Paramount can perform because you need to see the person’s magical life force to steal it and plant it into someone else.”

  I had heard that word before. In one of my conversations with Eli, he explained a Paramount was someone who could actually see magic energy. Most people could train themselves to sense magic, but only a select few were considered Paramounts who could actually see the magic energy around them and weave that energy into spells. They were the creators and inventors of new magic.

  “Go on…” I encouraged, stricken with fear but eager to uncover the truth about what really happened that day.

  Lizzy took a deep breath and exhaled slowly through her mouth. “That spell is illegal and dangerous because it replaces the mind and soul with that of someone else's. The person performing the spell is taking a life. The Paramount can act as a conduit between two other bodies, or in your case he used his own life instead. With this kind of spell, greedy people can take over a younger body to stay infinitely young. It can be used for identity theft...if a criminal places their mind into a different body they can live freely without any suspicion. The man who performed that spell on you was probably running from something. Or someone. And he wanted a fresh start. He took advantage of the situation. And took your life.”

  She paused for a moment. When I didn’t respond, she continued. “He must not have been a master with his skill, though. Any decent Paramount would have known transferring an adult mind into that of a child wouldn't work since a child’s brain isn’t fully developed yet. But...unfortunately the spell was still performed. Little by little his mind will ultimately overtake yours. Until...”

  Her voice trailed off. She didn’t need to say the rest. Lizzy stopped to let me process the flood of new information. The puzzle pieces all started to fit together. That place I keep visiting in my dreams must be a memory from that man. It’s possible the shadow was the person he was running from. The hooded cape, scruffy clothing...the man behind the barrier in the illusion was the same guy from the night of the crash. Even though I couldn’t see his face, his clothes were unmistakable. He’s been trapped inside my head for seventeen years and grew impatient waiting to get out. But where do Nolan and my mom fit into all this?