Shadowless

by Randall McNally

  The young boy, Tolda, was sitting in the sand with his legs crossed, repairing fishing nets. He weaved the shuttle in and out of the damaged net holes, wrapping the twine around the torn sections, all the time with one eye on the sea.

  Tolda idolised Telimar, as everyone in his village did. He was regarded as a hero for defending the people from those trying to take what they had, and he provided food for the village when the fishing haul was poor. He also supplied pearls to trade. With Telimar watching over it, his community prospered.

  The elders often recalled the legend of how, after a particularly violent storm, the fishermen dragged up a wooden chest from the depths of the ocean in their nets. The chest was full of sea water and at the bottom of it was a baby: a baby without a shadow. Despite being submerged in water, the child was breathing.

  That chest had been dragged from the seabed almost four hundred years ago and yet Telimar looked like a man in his thirties. He cut an imposing figure that caused would-be raiders to flee at the sight of him.

  ‘How many did you get?’ Tolda asked.

  ‘A full bag.’ Telimar smiled as he slung his catch over his shoulder.

  He playfully ruffled the boy’s hair before beginning the walk up the beach towards the village. Tolda gathered his nets, shuttle and twine and took off after him.

  ‘What was it like down there today? Did you see any sea turtles?’ Tolda asked.

  Telimar glanced down at the boy who was looking at him in awe. In reality, the task of collecting molluscs was boring and time-consuming. He rarely saw anything out of the ordinary and it was something he only did to help the people of his village. Yet he was not about to dispel the excitement of his young helper.

  ‘Of course I did, there were hundreds of them swimming all around me and trying to nibble through the net,’ he began. ‘Not to mention the sting rays, they were flapping their fins and gliding through the ocean like a flock of birds in slow motion.’

  ‘Really? By the gods,’ Tolda said, his eyes wide open, ‘tell me more.’

  ‘Come on and I will tell you what I saw down there.’

  The two walked up the beach to their village where Telimar handed over his bag to the waiting fishermen. They shelled his catch and served the meat, giving the pearls and shells to the village elders. For the rest of the afternoon Telimar sat with the sun on his back, eating and laughing with the people from his village. Then, he set out up the hill to his cabin.

  Telimar passed through the palm trees that grew on either side of the track that led to his home. His cabin was basic and set under the large canopy of an umbrella tree in which several brightly coloured birds lived.

  Telimar loved being close to nature. The guano on his thatched roof was a small price to pay for the songs the birds sung at dawn and dusk.

  He pressed two fingers to his lips and mimicked the whistling call they made.

  The canopy was silent.

  That’s strange, he thought. Where are they?

  Bending down, Telimar picked up a tiny pebble and flicked it into the umbrella tree. There was nothing: no flapping of wings and no squawking of birds.

  Curious as to why they were missing, or what might have frightened them off, he shifted his gaze to the log cabin. The sand around it was unbroken and the two-foot-tall wooden idols that the women of the village had carved in homage to him were standing where they always did. But something was wrong.

  Someone is in my home, he thought.

  Whistling in a casual manner, Telimar walked around the cabin and up the hill for another five yards until he came to the clearing that served as his work area. Pulling a hand axe from a chopping block, he turned and walked back to his cabin.

  Standing poised outside the front door, he touched the handle and pushed it open. It creaked as it swung wide. Telimar took a deep breath and picked up one of the wooden idols, tightened his grip on the hand axe and stepped inside the cabin.

  ‘Get him,’ a female voice shouted, as four attackers set upon him.

  A sword came swinging from the left side of the door, striking the idol and burying itself deep in the wood. Telimar ducked under the morning star that came veering in from the right, before spinning around and hitting its owner on the head with his axe.

  The blow caught his assailant on the temple, smashing through his skull. Telimar let go of his axe and pulled the morning star from the dying man’s hand. He then rushed across the doorway to engage the second of his attackers.

  The man was trying to pull his sword from the wooden idol when Telimar rushed him. Swinging the morning star, Telimar caught him flush on the jaw with the heavy, spiked ball. There was a sickening crunch and the man dropped to the ground.

  Telimar turned to see two women, one had sharp features and spectacles and the other was tall with red-hair. They had begun to advance, but had stopped in their tracks, visibly shocked at the manner and speed with which Telimar had killed the men.

  ‘Attack him,’ the red-haired woman shouted.

  The other woman looked at the still-twitching bodies of her comrades, and hesitated.

  Telimar pulled the sword from the idol and dropped the morning star. He pointed it at the spectacled woman’s throat.

  ‘Who are you? Why are you here?’ he demanded.

  ‘My name is Drexlyn. She brought us here to murder you,’ Drexlyn blabbed. ‘She has no shadow herself, yet she hunts down and kills others of her kind for the temples. All in the hope that…’

  Drexlyn’s words were cut short and her face contorted. She looked down at a long fighting knife protruding from her chest.

  The red haired woman pulled out the blade and Drexlyn fell to the ground.

  ‘Put down the knife or I will kill you where you stand,’ Telimar said.

  Dropping her weapon, the red-haired woman put her hands on her hips.

  Telimar walked around her in a circle, kicking the weapons from her reach. He glanced at the dying woman she had just stabbed.

  ‘Is it true?’ he asked, looking her in the eye.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘I came here to kill you.’

  ‘Who are you, and how did you find me?’

  ‘My name is Pandimonia Toŕl, and I intercepted your errand boy in Wittinshade. At first he was reluctant to tell me about you, but he soon gave up his secrets when I started cutting his toes off.’

  A look of pure malice danced in Pandimonia’s piercing red eyes. She smiled a dark, sly smile at Telimar.

  ‘If you do not have a shadow then you know how life is for people like us,’ Telimar said, frowning.

  ‘I don’t have to explain myself to you,’ she snapped, looking him up and down with disdain.

  ‘Maybe you would rather explain yourself to this,’ he said, pointing his sword at her throat.

  Pandimonia lifted her hair from around her neck and turned her head to the side.

  ‘Do it. Death holds no fear for me.’

  ‘Do you actually want to die?’ he asked her.

  ‘Stand in the sun and look to the ground, idiot. We’re both already dead; it’s just a matter of time. Now, if you’re going to kill me then get on with it, otherwise let me out of here.’

  Telimar stepped in front of her, barring her path.

  Pandimonia’s face coloured and Telimar could see the rage bubbling up inside her.

  ‘What do you want from me?’ she screamed.

  ‘Answers. Tell me why it is that you came here to kill me.’

  ‘To save my own skin. If I can kill enough of you then maybe, just maybe, the temples, the Shadow Watchers and the gods will leave me alone.’

  ‘That is the worst reason I have ever heard,’ Telimar said.

  ‘Go to hell. You know nothing about me.’

  ‘I know you do not do this out of fear. You enjoy killing. I can see it in your face.’ Telimar
stepped closer to Pandimonia. ‘Maybe you get a thrill from knowing that there’s one less of us in the world. Deep down, you are just as afraid of dying as the rest of us.’

  Pandimonia stared at Telimar, her eyes welling up.

  Telimar cast aside the sword.

  ‘What is it you think is going to happen when you have done all their work for them? Do you think the temples are going to reward you? Do you think the gods are going to forgive you?’

  Pandimonia lowered her head, trying to avoid eye contact.

  ‘They will slay you. The only chance we have of surviving is if we fight, and for that we need numbers. But then, any chance of that occurring has been set back thanks to you.’

  ‘Are you going to kill me?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ he stated. ‘I am not going to kill you. You are pathetic, Pandimonia.’

  No one had ever spoken to her like that. She had always surrounded herself with sycophants and bootlickers, people who were reluctant to displease her, lest they meet with the same fate as Drexlyn. Hearing the truth was in stark contrast to what she was used to, the cold reality of it was that he was right.

  ‘What are you going to do with me?’

  ‘At first light I am going to take you to the north of the island, and put you on a ship out of here. But make no mistake, if you ever return to this island, your fate will be the same as your lackeys’.’

  Telimar marched Pandimonia over to the small round table in the corner of the room.

  ‘Sit down there,’ he commanded.

  Pandimonia sat with her shoulders slumped and her head bowed. She could hear her host rummaging around in a cupboard.

  ‘Here, eat this,’ he said, setting down a wooden bowl of nuts and dried fish. ‘It is not much, but it is all I have.’

  ‘Is it poisoned?’

  ‘If I told you it was safe to eat, would you believe me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’ he asked.

  ‘You don’t seem like the type to lie.’

  Telimar raised an eyebrow. ‘It is safe to eat.’

  She nibbled on a piece of the fish then ate the nuts.

  ‘Right then,’ Telimar began, ‘we have a long journey tomorrow. You should get some rest. Sleep in my hammock, I will sleep on the floor.’

  ‘How do you know I won’t slit your throat in the night?’ she asked.

  Telimar stood with his hands behind his back, leaning up against the wall of his cabin.

  ‘Because I am a light sleeper, Pandimonia, and if anything moves in here during the night I have a tendency to stab first and ask questions later.’

  Recognising when she was beaten, Pandimonia climbed into the hammock and began rocking gently in it. She gazed out the window, at the sun setting across the ocean: it was beautiful. Given everything that had happened today, she was surprised at how at peace she felt with herself.

  As she drifted off to sleep, a tiny doubt crept into Pandimonia’s mind about the way she had chosen to live her life. It was only fleeting, but it cast a long shadow over her sense of self.

  A tapping noise woke Pandimonia. She sat upright and looked around.

  Putting her legs over the edge of the hammock, she manoeuvred onto the floor of the cabin, trying not to lose her balance and swing backwards.

  The tapping, which sounded like metal on wood, continued from outside.

  She walked into the front room. It was a bright day outside. The bodies and weapons were gone, and the bloodstains had been washed from the wooden floor.

  Opening the outside door, Pandimonia could see the shadow of a spade that appeared to be hovering in mid-air. She glanced at where it was coming from and seen Telimar using the head of a shovel to knock small wooden poles into the ground, one each at the head of three mounds of freshly dug soil. He picked up three small pieces of wood and a sharp stone and handed them to her.

  ‘I did not know these people. You have five minutes to carve their initials before we set off.’

  Telimar walked inside and Pandimonia could hear him moving around, presumably packing for their journey. She sat by the graves and began to scratch the initials into the wood.

  Wait, I don’t even know their last names, she thought.

  Pandimonia crudely scratched the numbers one, two and three on the pieces of wood. When finished, she hung the wooden plaques on the grave posts using some small vines that she pulled from the trees. Crouching on the ground she stared at the three mounds of soil. She had never given any of her victims the courtesy of a burial.

  He must have been up half the night burying them and cleaning his home, she thought.

  She put her hands on her head and closed her eyes.

  Telimar emerged from his cabin with a satchel over his shoulder.

  ‘It is time,’ he said, pointing to a trail that led away from his home.

  Pandimonia dusted the earth from her leather greaves.

  ‘Why have you spared me?’ she asked.

  ‘Pity.’

  Pandimonia pursed her lips, turned and walked down the path, not wanting him to see that her eyes were welling up with tears.

  The two set out around the edge of the jungle, towards the north of the island, birds flying from trees they passed. As they walked, Pandimonia looked out to the east and saw the sun casting a shining path over the ocean. She stopped for a few seconds, gazing in awe.

  How beautiful, she thought; this island, with its birds, its clear blue water, its tropical plants, is as close to paradise as I’ve ever seen.

  For the rest of the journey, Pandimonia took in all the sights and sounds of the island. She smelled the wild orchids that grew on the edge of Vestrowe’s thick jungles, listened to the calls from the brightly coloured birds that inhabited its trees and looked out over its waterfalls and beaches.

  ‘Are you smiling?’ Telimar asked.

  ‘No,’ she snapped. ‘Why would I be smiling? I can’t wait to get away from this shithole.’ Pandimonia stomped along the trail, slapping at the flowers as if to underline her words.

  How could I have been so stupid as to let him see me smile? she thought.

  It was after midday when they crested a hill. At the top of it was a view of the shore and a small fishing port. Pandimonia recognised it as the place where she and her group had docked two days ago.

  ‘This is it, then?’ she said, looking at Telimar.

  ‘This is it. Now, do I need to physically put you on the ship myself or can I trust you to get on one and never come back?’

  Pandimonia said nothing. She did not want to leave, but was not sure why.

  Was it the island? Was it Telimar?

  Pandimonia was more confused than she had ever been. She was two hundred and thirteen years old, and yet here she was chewing on her bottom lip and looking awkwardly at the ground like a dewy-eyed handmaiden.

  Telimar gazed at her with piercing green eyes. He shrugged.

  ‘What is it, Pandimonia?’

  ‘Hear me out,’ she said, taking a deep breath. ‘What if I told you…?’

  Her sentence trailed off.

  ‘What if you told me what?’ he asked.

  You can do this, Pandimonia thought.

  ‘What if I told you that I’d thought about what you’d said and…?’

  At that moment, there was a cry for help from the beach. Telimar turned to try to see where it was coming from. It was a male’s voice.

  ‘Ignore it,’ she said. ‘He probably just slipped on a rock.’

  ‘Someone is in trouble,’ he said.

  Watching Telimar disappear over the hill, she swore before running after him, trying her best to keep up. She watched him run down into a gully before stopping and listening.

  ‘Help me, please. Somebody help me.’

  The voice was coming from the dun
es. Puffing and panting, Pandimonia caught up with Telimar just as he took off again, climbing up the steep bank. She followed him to the top and peered into the large, sand-filled basin.

  A young blond man, still in his teens, was kneeling at the bottom of the dune. Bruised and beaten, his clothes were ripped and bloodstained. There was an iron clasp around his neck attached to a chain; the other end was tethered to a spike, driven into the ground.

  ‘Please, help me,’ he shouted, seeing the pair.

  Pandimonia checked for signs of movement around the other dunes, turning back to see Telimar climbing over the edge.

  ‘What the hell are you doing? You don’t even know this man.’

  ‘I know that he needs my help,’ Telimar said, as he began the slide down the dune wall.

  ‘You’re impossible,’ she said, shaking her head. But she followed him down the sandy incline.

  This doesn’t feel right, she thought.

  Telimar looked around before approaching the boy. The sand was stained red indicating he’d lost a lot of blood. His face was white and his lips blue. There were cuts all over his body, in clusters of five: overlapping circles and triangles.

  ‘Those symbols,’ Pandimonia said. ‘I’ve seen something like them before…’

  ‘Hey,’ Telimar said, ignoring Pandimonia and approaching the young man. ‘There now, do not worry. I am here to help you. Tell me who did this to you.’

  He put a comforting hand on the young man’s shoulder.

  ‘Ask him what those marks are, I don’t like the look of them,’ Pandimonia said, trying to remember what they reminded her of.

  ‘I have never seen anything like them,’ he replied, bending down to get a closer look.

  The young man was shaking from head to toe. He gazed up at Telimar with tears in his eyes.

  Pandimonia’s instincts told her that something was not right. Having set enough traps for other people, down through the years, she recognised when she was in one.

  ‘Sorry,’ the young man said.

  ‘Sorry for what?’ Pandimonia snapped.

  ‘Sorry for everything.’