Shadowlight (Lightkey: The Intrepid Lucy Duceaul, Book 3 - PART 1)

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Shadowlight (Lightkey: The Intrepid Lucy Duceaul, Book 3 - PART 1) Page 7

by Elon Vidal


  She went to a chaise lounge and stiffly sat on it. She rubbed her dull palms together in search of warmth and tried not to think of a worst-case scenario concerning Aeron. Taking a deep breath, she raised the wrist her bracelet was worn on and tried to summon Ivar.

  Suddenly, Lucy felt her energy slowly draining out of her, and her legs trembled. Was this the aftereffects of being extremely cold or of her summoning the weredragon?

  “Are you okay?” a familiar voice asked as footsteps approached her.

  Lucy spotted Ivar hurrying towards her, and she got on her feet. That was fast. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed on the cold marble, trembling.

  “Lucy!” Ivar knelt next to where she lay. He stroked her hair and pulled her into his arms like her father used to. “Don't worry, you'll be okay soon...”

  Lucy was about to tell Ivar how horrible she felt, but the words died on her tongue when she spotted his left arm. There was no birthmark showing under the short-sleeved shirt.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Fire of light, ashes of power

  Dreams alight, sacred of the moon tower

  Excerpt from the Lumenary Prophetiae

  This was the fake Ivar. Who was he, and what did he want with Lucy? Why was he coming after her? Well, apart from her being the whole Chosen Lightbringer and stuff. That was a popular reason for people coming after her these days…

  “You'll be fine, Lucy,” Fivar said. Yes, Lucy was going to name him Fivar from now on. Fake Ivar.

  He peered down at her while still holding her in his arms, and wasn't prepared for the nasty flick on the nose Lucy managed to give him.

  He grunted in pain and let go of her to hold his reddening nose. She dropped to the ground with a thud, breaking her fall with her hands.

  With the little amount of strength left in her, Lucy dragged her body away from the groaning boy. She struggled to get on her feet, but they were so lifeless that she couldn't even feel them attached to her ankles anymore. This was more than just being cold. Something was draining her energy, and she had no idea what it was. Once again, Lucy tried to summon Ivar with her bracelet, but she soon realized that even thinking about that took more energy to work than she expected.

  “Lucy, what's your problem? I'm trying to help you!” Fivar cried, getting up and walking towards her.

  “Stay away from me!” Lucy ordered, raising her palm towards Fivar in a stopping motion. “One more step and I'll… I'll… I'll shave your hair in your sleep!”

  Fivar stopped, then looked amused. He grinned and flicked mahogany curls out of his emerald eyes. “But you like my hair, Lucy.”

  That wasn't a question. How was he so sure? Lucy didn't know if her cheeks were slowly turning the color of Fivar's hair. God, she hoped not. That would be highly embarrassing.

  But now that he mentioned it, she did tend to notice his hair quite often. But that didn't mean she liked it, right? Ah, who was she kidding? She couldn't do that to either Ivars, even if she was paid.

  “Well?” Fivar pressed, stepping closer, still smiling knowingly. Dang it, her cheeks must be red.

  Lucy huffed, not ready to give in yet. She turned away and faced the hall leading to the foyer, ready to attempt dragging herself to the front door. “I… I'll snip off two strands then!”

  “Pfft, yeah right.” Fivar took one more step and bent to pick her up.

  Lucy tried to fight back, but now her whole body seemed frozen from her neck down. She would have blamed the cold for making her numb if it wasn't for the way her head spun when Ivar lifted her into his arms. She blinked and everything went black as the last of her energy drained away, threatening to drop to rock bottom. She wanted to sleep so bad at the moment, or eat something to give her energy. Come to think of it, she was actually pretty hungry.

  Lucy caught glimpses of Fivar's face looking down at her every once in a while when she blinked the world into focus. He carried her in his arms, and the look on his face didn't seem malicious at all. It looked more like he was checking to see if she was alright. He almost looked… worried.

  Why would he be concerned about her? What did he want? Why was he here? Lucy suspected he worked with Aeron. Was Wolfe also part of the conspiracy? What did they want with her! This was getting too frustrating to think about.

  “Don't worry, sweetheart...” Fivar's voice echoed in her ears. “It'll be over soon...”

  Nope, this confirmed that it most definitely wasn't Ivar. He would never call her ‘sweetheart’. Yuck, by the way.

  Wait, what? What's going to be over soon? He better not be planning to give her an injection or anything—that was what the healer tells her before the sting of a needle. Lucy shuddered. Those things were the worst thing about visiting the healer Druids for an appointment. The thing about Druids that have traveled to the real world is that they come back to Farfront and decide to copy them, instead of just do it the normal way with magic. Ugh, needles. Lucy wasn't going to go down without a fight if needles were involved, numb or not.

  Her vision clouded again with a screen of tiny black spots that darkened more and more. She drifted out of reality and was left to puzzle what Fivar meant, in the constricting confines of her mind.

  “I bet on the nature lady...”

  Huh? Lucy opened her eyes, only to be faced with darkness. She couldn't decide where the ground ended, or where the ground even was, because everywhere was so black. Was she floating? Who talked before? The female voice sounded so familiar. It sounded like…

  “Me?” Lucy said to herself.

  The voice sounded aloof and sarcastic, much like Molly's tone, but it sounded just like Lucy's voice.

  “Oh, look, she's decided to join us. Over here, Lucy!” the same voice called.

  Lucy turned back and came face to face with her leather-clad Sidhe side. Her Sidhe side had dark hair, braided on a small portion of the left side, and deep black eyes. She was much paler than Lucy, who had tanned skin. She looked like Lucy's twin with slightly different features.

  Lucy managed to find her voice and ask, “Excuse me? Why am I in here?” Her voice came out softer than in reality. Probably a side effect of being up in her head.

  Her inner self scoffed, floating towards her with perfect white hair delicately swaying to her slightest movement. She moved so gracefully Lucy felt mesmerized by her gentle motions.

  “You say it like this is the first time being inside your head,” her inner self told her. “You're currently passed out.”

  “And we're guessing who Fivar really is,” the Sidhe side added, folding her arms across her chest. With narrowed dark eyes, she muttered, “If this is actually Ivar's doppelganger, then welp, tough luck Ivar. Nice knowing ya. I still think it's the nature lady, though.”

  “What, Madge?” Lucy asked, the side of her upper lip perking up in confusion. “Why her?”

  Her Sidhe rubbed her six black fingernails on her leather jacket and examined them, before flicking her fingers and looking up to answer Lucy.

  “Oh, I don't know. It's not like she's the only one among you guys that can actually shape-shift.”

  Lucy ran her possible suspects over in her head. Didi could shape-shift, but only into a phoenix. Besides, the phoenix didn't seem capable of being Fivar. She came off too sweet and distracted for it.

  There was Ivar, but he clearly said he had a birthmark and Fivar didn't. There was still a tiny possibility that this may be the real Ivar and the fake one is the one with the birthma—

  Ah, don't complicate matters, Lucy. This wasn't Ivar, she was sure.

  The rest didn't seem to pose any threats. Molly wouldn't turn against her; he was her cousin, right? He would have when he was still under Mordreth's hold, but Lucy thought Molly had grown fond of her now and would sincerely protect her. She wondered if he was still under Mordreth's annoying orders. If not, why was he still with her? Did he fully support the prophecy now? She had to find some time to ask him and make sure of his loyalty—to either her or the king of the d
ark elves.

  Crick and Snack were out of it—they loved her too much, and just no, they'd never be Fivar. Phoebe wouldn't stoop so low. Wolfe… Nah, he's a werewolf. Werewolves don't shape-shift out of their one human-werewolf thing, right?

  That left Madge, the actual shape-shifter. She wasn't even in her true form as Gaia, at the moment.

  “So? See what I mean?” Lucy's Sidhe asked, leaning in as if the answers were on Lucy's forehead. Her voice sounded a bit deeper than Lucy's.

  “I… I don't believe you,” Lucy whispered, shaking her head.

  Her Sidhe side snorted out a laugh, while her inner self chuckled.

  “We're you, I hope you know that,” said her inner self, who sparkled as she quietly laughed. “Deep down, this is what you're thinking, even though you may not know it.”

  “You think Madge might be behind this, right?” her Sidhe asked, now smirking knowingly. “Deep inside, you're considering it. We can hear it.”

  Lucy bit her lip, then put her hands over her ears and turned away, as if that could help anything. She couldn't deny that she was considering the wildest fact about Madge; that maybe Madge was up to something. With all she had been through so far, Lucy had learned that trust was very fragile and anyone could break it anytime, in the worst possible way, too.

  But come on, Madge? She was like a mother to Lucy! Why would she be Fivar? That was the wildest thought yet, but then, it was the only possible explanation she could give at the moment.

  “We'll find out soon enough. You're about to wake up.” Lucy's inner self sighed.

  As soon as she said that, Lucy felt herself being tugged back to reality. Darkness clouded her vision and when she opened her eyes, she was hit with blinding lights.

  The first thing she saw was a pale weathered face; Aeron, the Death guy.

  Lucy was tied to a chair with ropes laced with magic, not that she could break them even if they were normal ropes—her strength was yet to return. The room she was in looked like a hall, with two doors at each end and windows lining the walls. The windows faced the field of colored rocks she had seen earlier.

  There were four black-cloaked guards standing around, with glowing amber eyes. Wolfe wasn't here, though, not even Fivar.

  Lucy found that the lights were coming from two colored rocks, similar to the ones she had seen outside the building. They glowed in pink and orange tones, and the rays felt so good on Lucy's skin. Warm and tender, satisfying, sending a rush of power through her skin, enough to wake her up into the moment. She had never felt light like this before.

  “Enjoying the Light rays, are we?” Aeron asked, raising a wrinkled forehead. “It comes with a price, Chosen.”

  Lucy snapped out of the trance she had been in while being immersed in the light. This was wrong; she shouldn't be tied up. What happened to Ivar? She shook her head. No, Fivar.

  “What do you want with me?” she asked, straining against the binds, but they felt rock hard against her skin. “Where's Wolfe?”

  “Oh, your little wolf friend is probably out there looking for some imaginary amulet I told him would protect him from his own pack.” Aeron's cold gray eyes seemed to bore into her soul as he chuckled mirthlessly. “Your energy is all I need from you, darling.”

  “What…?” Words died in Lucy's mouth as Aeron moved away from the table behind him, revealing the pink witchpetal sitting on a pedestal.

  She didn't even know what to think. Was Wolfe okay? Did Aeron lure him here so he could get to Lucy? But Lucy had only come after a second thought, Aeron couldn't have known. It could all be a bad coincidence.

  And her energy? Surely Aeron wasn't going to use her to steal power from the witchpetal, was he?

  Aeron took her hands in his. His skin felt like ice; cold and hard. “I'm going to use your light energy to access the witchpetal's power.”

  Welp.

  “Let us begin,” he solemnly said.

  The witchpetal glowed a light pink and Lucy felt a jolt of energy sucked from her. She yelped in pain. She struggled against her ropes, but it was all useless. In the center of the hall, where the tiles were designed in the shape of a crescent, a cloud of light pink sparkles appeared and floated above the ground. Then, they merged and formed a puffy white Himalayan cat. It looked around and meowed as if to say ‘what am I doing here?’.

  Aeron let go of Lucy and walked towards the new arrival. Lucy struggled to grasp for more light, as she felt like the air was knocked out her lungs. She panted as she watched Aeron stoop down and pat the cat's head, who protested with a scratch on his arm.

  Aeron got up, ignoring the scratch—he didn't bleed. He grinned and said, “The switch has begun.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Sides of two shall fight to keep

  The Chosen Light, whose rays run deep

  Excerpt from the Lumenary Prophetiae

  Lucy didn't know how long it had been. Two days? Three weeks? All she knew was that she had been drained of energy, recharged, only to be drained again.

  Long story short, Aeron hadn't been successful in switching shadow dwellers. That should explain why there were an embarrassingly large amount of things from the real world littered across the hall, and zero shadow dwellers transported to the real world.

  The shadow dweller who had signed up for the first launch, who Lucy recognized as the grouchy shadow dweller from her visit to the Prism Monument, had been there after the first trial had happened. He was getting impatient.

  “How much longer, Aeron?” he huffed, tapping his feet and placing his hands on his hips while sitting on a wooden chair. “I'm not getting any younger. It's been two weeks.”

  What's the worst that could happen? Lucy thought with a huff of her own. The shadow dweller had all eternity to wait.

  “Lucy, darling, if you could just concentrate on this and get it to work, I'll leave you be,” Aeron said in that chillingly calm, emotionless voice of his, while trying to balance on one foot as he picked his way between a ring floater and beach ball, and what looked like a pastel pink tutu and feather boa.

  “There's nothing I can do,” Lucy sighed, already tired even though they hadn't tried again today.

  The cat from the first trial meowed as if in agreement. It strutted towards Lucy and sat beside the chair. If Lucy didn't feel like jelly at the moment, she would have ventured into its mind like she used to, back at Farfront. She had no world-changing responsibilities then, nor different people after her life because of something she never chose to be from the start.

  “Just let me go...” she pleaded with Aeron.

  Aeron accidentally stepped on a squeaky rubber ducky and grunted, catching himself after nearly losing his balance. “Not a chance.”

  He stretched out his hand towards the colored stones set in the hall. The number of stones had increased from two to sixteen since the first trial, and there still wasn't a good switch between worlds. Well, if you don't count the objects that look like they came from a kid's room, which were switched with nothing. It seemed like all Aeron had been able to do was teleport objects from the real world, not swapping them with anything.

  “It's never going to work,” Lucy said, shutting her eyes and bracing herself for the strong pull from her well of energy, as she soaked in the light from the colored stones.

  An idea popped into her mind. She could reach out for help!

  She had never had enough strength to call Ivar or feel through her web of light for anyone else in her team, but this time, she would try with the first channel of light energy she could get.

  The stones lit up, then suddenly dimmed before turning gray. Pink, orange, yellow, blue—none of the colors were visible now, just a cold gray. Lucy hadn't collected enough energy… would it be enough for an SOS?

  “What happened?” Aeron hurried over to the stones, his black cloak flapping behind him from his hurried steps. He touched the stones, then slowly turned to Lucy. “You burned them out.”

  “Excuse me?” Lucy tilted h
er head backwards. “I literally did nothing. I'm still bound by magic ropes.”

  “Yeah, it could just be that the stones are also tired of the trials,” Grouchy answered, shifting in the chair he sat on, set on the crescent tile design.

  Aeron walked up to Lucy and took her left arm in his. She could feel the freezing cold of his temperature, even when he only touched her dragon bracelet.

  “What is this?” he asked, tapping the jewelry.

  So… he's just seeing this after being with her for weeks? Talk about being not observant.

  “A gift from my family,” Lucy answered.

  Aeron's gray eyes twinkled. “Some family you've got. Why would they put a dormant curse in your ‘gift’?”

 

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