The Shadow Paradox: The Shadow Enforcer Series Book Three

by N M Thorn

  Since flying wasn’t his favorite exercise, Damian wasn’t fast and flexible enough on his wings. He yelped and swung to the side, the flames grazing his skin. The snake hissed and screeched, getting ready for the next attack. Moving faster than Damian expected, it struck with its flat head. Damian screamed, ducking to the side. The Aspid kept striking and spraying him with fire, blocking his way to the nest.

  “Too s-s-s-low, too heavy… You can’t win-s-s-s…” A soft hissing voice invaded Damian’s head, and he pulled back, halting in midair. “Look at the nes-s-s-s-t… it’s-s-s too far… You can never pass-s-s-s me… Just look into my eyes, little human-s-s-s.”

  Everything inside Damian ignited with the burning need to look up, to meet the Aspid’s eyes. He groaned, forcing himself to look away. The Aspid cackled in his head, and the small hairs on the back of Damian’s neck stood on end from the malignancy of the sound.

  “You can hear me, human-s-s,” hissed the Aspid, its body slowly slithering around the tree. “You’re a Child of Earth-s-s-s. How unfortunate for you.” It snickered, and its body stopped moving, only its ugly head swinging evenly from side to side in an almost hypnotic manner, like an ugly, oversized pendulum. “You don’t need to look-s-s-s at me… just lis-s-s-s-ten to my voice-s-s-s. Listen… listen… lis-s-s-s-ten…”

  “No!” Damian shouted, the sound of his own voice breaking the momentary trance. Fighting the monster’s powerful influence on his mind, he channeled some of his magic and reached to his gargoyle. “Zhulik, now!”

  The Aspid emitted a deafening sound resembling a roar, which morphed into a long hiss, and then showered Damian with another jet of fire.

  “Aquamius!” Damian extended his arms, and two powerful streams of water escaped his hands. The water collided with the fire with an earsplitting hiss, filling the air with smoldering swirls of steam. For a brief moment, a shimmering white veil separated Damian from his foe, and he used the opportunity to pull back slightly.

  “Damian, hang in there!” Jamie’s magically magnified voice rolled across the chasm.

  The wind picked up, clearing the screen of steam. Lightning flared over his head, and thunder exploded, deafening him for a split second. Suddenly, the Aspid roared again, its terrible voice filled with pain and annoyance beyond measure. It thrashed so violently, the giant oak shook with it, a downpour of leaves showering the ground beneath it. Looking down, the blood ran cold in Damian’s veins. Jamie was on one knee, his dagger protruding from the tip of the Aspid’s tail.

  “Jamie, run!” Damian shouted and touched his bracelet, turning it into the whip.

  As Jamie pulled his dagger out, ducking to the side to get away from the vigorously beating tail of the serpent, Damian swung the whip with all the strength he could gather. The silver thong whistled through the air, its sound melting into the howling of the wind. Before the Aspid could unwind its massive body enough to strike the wizard, the thong wrapped around it right under its head. Damian yanked the whip back, the muscles on his arms and chest bulging from strain.

  “Illucious!” he shouted at the same time, and the silver knives attached to the end of the whip lit up with the purifying energy of Creation, cutting through the serpent’s thick scales. Dark, flaming blood gushed down from the terrible wound, and the Aspid screamed, its partially decapitated head swinging from side to side.

  “Commander, go! Take care of the nestlings!” Zhulik’s voice sounded in Damian’s mind, and the gargoyle materialized next to him.

  Gone were the wagging tail, sad eyes, and doggish grin. Supported by wide wings, in his true form, Zhulik looked intimidating. His massive lion-like body was a solid piece of rock, yet thick ropes of muscles rippled under his rocky hide. His large round eyes shone with a blinding blue light, and his paws ending in massive claws cut through the air. He opened his large mouth filled with sharp fangs and emitted a terrible roar. For a moment, all sounds ceased. Even the wind stopped blowing. The Aspid froze, staring at Zhulik. A fearsome leer stretched the gargoyle’s mouth as he met the Aspid’s burning gaze.

  “You can’t turn stone into stone, dumbass,” growled the gargoyle and zoomed toward the Aspid.

  As the powerful beast smashed into the vicious monster, an ear-splitting hiss entwined with deafening roars filled the air. Damian didn’t wait to see the outcome of the battle between the deadly serpent and the gargoyle. He wrapped his whip around his wrist, turning it back into a bracelet, and then flew up, landing softly on the thick branch to which the nest was attached. Folding his wings, he walked toward the nest, carefully measuring his every step.

  The powerful gust of wind kept ravaging the tree, and he had to check his balance a few times, nearly falling. As he reached the nest, he grabbed the top and pulled himself up, vaulting over the edge. He landed on the soft bottom of the nest and ended up facing three birds who were no more than two weeks old, judging by the development level of their feathers. Their round eyes were the size of dessert plates, and they stared at Damian without blinking.

  When Zhulik said they were as large as a small pony, he wasn’t kidding, but Damian hoped that at least they were lighter than they looked. Carefully approaching the baby birds, he raised his arms in a placating manner. The nestlings opened their beaks, and the screeching chirps and peeps escaped their wide-open mouths. To Damian’s dismay, their hungry call was a lot louder than he expected, sounding clear over the noise of the ravaging winds and mighty booms of the thunderstorm. He clasped his hands to his ears, cringing.

  The thunderstorm intensified. The wind turned into a violent storm, and a sudden torrential downpour of rain nearly threw him off his feet. The constant flashing of lightning became a blinding nightmare, and the blaring rumbling of thunder morphed into an endless echo, reverberating in the chasm and the forest.

  Damian raised his arm to shield his face from the slashing streams of water, but to no avail. Fighting the winds and the rain, it took him longer than he expected to make it to the birds, but just as he was about to touch a nestling in front of him, he detected a new spike in the magical energy field in the area. The energy was dark—he had no doubts about that—but it didn’t belong to the Aspid either. He looked up but could see nothing through the terrifying storm unfolding over the clearing.

  “Commander, the Aspid is coming!” He heard Zhulik’s strained voice in his mind. “I can’t hold him any longer!”

  Like in some mind-bending nightmare, Damian watched the black outline of a large serpent rise above him. For a brief second, the flares of the thunderstorms ceased, and he could clearly see the flaming eyes of the Aspid and its wide-open mouth with ghastly fangs dripping thick, green poison mixed in with streams of rain.

  The serpent gave off a dissonant hiss and dove down, aiming at the birds. With no time to run, Damian opened his giant wings, covering the nestlings, and braced for the impact.

  Chapter 23

  ~ Damian Blake ~

  Time slowed down as Damian held his breath, bracing for the serpent’s attack. Whispering a quick protection spell, he was positive it wouldn’t hold the Aspid’s magically empowered assault for longer than a few seconds, but he was hoping it would soften the bone-crushing impact. He closed his eyes and dropped his head. With the next boom of thunder, the first strike came with a devastating force. Damian screamed, struggling to hold on to his magic, but the Aspid’s fangs ripped through his shield, shredding it to pieces, as if it were nothing more than a flimsy piece of paper.

  The monster’s fangs tore his shirt, grazing his bare back, and he cried out in pain, his skin burning and blistering from the touch of Aspid’s poison. The birds screeched, cowering closer to Damian, as though they could understand that he was trying to save them.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Damian watched the Aspid raise its head, getting ready for the second attack. As if observing from above, he saw himself kneeling at the bottom of a giant nest with his wings spread over the nestlings. A lightning bolt flared through the sky, and for a split se
cond, a giant dark shadow obscured the lightshow from Hell. Whatever it was, it came and melted into the darkness, fast and soundless, and the next thing Damian saw were the flaming eyes of the giant serpent and its terrifying fangs as the monster struck again.

  “Commander, incoming!” Damian heard Zhulik’s desperate cry in his mind, but he could do nothing. The nest rattled beneath him as the gargoyle pushed off its edge, throwing himself in the Aspid’s way.

  Damian didn’t think it was possible, but somehow, it became even darker than it had been before. The storm intensified tenfold, the wind nearly ripping the heavy nest off the swaying tree. The gargoyle and the Aspid collided again with a mighty boom that rolled across the clearing, disappearing into the chasm. Then a new sound—a shrill call like that of a raven but a hundred times louder—broke through the cacophony of the raging elements, ear-splitting hisses of the Aspid and guttural growls of the gargoyle. The nestlings replied to the call with high-pitched, eager peeps but didn’t try to escape from under the cover of Damian’s wings.

  The Aspid hissed furiously, its deafening call turning into a terrifying wail the likes of which Damian had never heard coming from a serpent before.

  And suddenly, everything went quiet—no hisses of the angry snake or growls of the gargoyle. The storm ceased, and the winds dwindled into complete calmness.

  “Zhulik?” Damian called in his mind, but the gargoyle remained silent.

  He felt cold air brush over his hot, blistered skin, and a wave of dark magical energy assailed his senses, its signature bearing a dire resemblance to the energy of the Dark Nav. Afraid of what he would find next, Damian glanced over his shoulder, his entire body shaking from strain and pain.

  A giant bird, the size of an African elephant, perched itself on the edge of the nest. With its head cocked, it observed Damian with blunt curiosity. The stormy clouds were gone, and the bird’s dark ultramarine plumage gleamed with the reflected light of the moon, its iron beak and talons shining with a metallic, silvery light.

  Zhulik sat next to her, looking tiny and insignificant in his puppy form, a wide grin playing on his muzzle. Straightening his body with a labored groan, Damian rose to his feet and folded his wings, quickly checking the nestlings to make sure they were okay. His back responded with a debilitating ache, jolts of pain rushing through his body from the welts left by the Aspid’s fangs. Even though the cuts weren’t deep, the Aspid’s poison circulating through his system was making him weaker by the moment. Turning around, Damian swayed, nearly losing his balance, and he could swear the enormous bird frowned, watching him.

  “Your master is gravely injured, gargoyle,” the bird said to Zhulik, her voice unexpectedly soft and melodious for a raven. “I am truly sorry, but saving my children will cost him his life. The serpent’s poison will kill him in no time.”

  “The poison is not going to kill me,” objected Damian, with shock realizing how weak his voice sounded. “I just need to go down to the ground and heal myself.”

  “You can hear me? You can understand—” The bird cocked its head, observing him with deep attention. “Oh… You’re a Child of Earth, aren’t you?”

  “Yes...” Damian inclined his head slightly, the nausea rising to his throat followed by an overwhelming wave of weakness.

  Without saying anything else, the bird spread its giant wings and rose in the air. Making a circle around the nest, she scooped Damian up, holding him in her iron talons, and flew down, gently lowering him to the ground in front of Jamie. The wizard stood with his back pressed against the oak, staring at the oversized raven with fear in his wide eyes, his hand squeezing the grip of his dagger so hard, his knuckles turned white. The body of the Aspid torn into three pieces lay at his feet, slowly turning into chunks of rock.

  “Damian.” He made a move toward him, but halted, staring at the enormous raven indecisively.

  “Have no fear, young wizard,” the raven said out loud. Humorous twinkles ignited in her attentive eyes as she took in Jamie’s flabbergasted look. “I’m not going to harm you, and yes, I can speak.”

  “Jamie,” Damian called and swallowed, closing his eyes. “Don’t be afraid. This is a bird Mogol. Even though she is born of the Dark Nav, she’s not evil… I recognized whose nest it was as soon as I saw the nestlings… ahh…” He exhaled, suppressing a moan, and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, but I need a few minutes to heal. The Aspid’s poison is a bitch…”

  He connected with his element, allowing it to take him over. As the healing energy of Earth surged through him, taking care of his injuries and clearing his system from the deadly poison, his body arched, his fingers grasping at the grass. A few seconds later, he let go of the healing magic and relaxed, a tortured moan escaping his tightly pressed lips.

  “Damian? Are you okay?” Jamie’s voice sounded somewhere above him, and Damian forced himself to open his eyes.

  “I’ll be fine. I just need a few minutes to rest.” He pushed himself into an upright position and carefully spread his shoulders. “Between the fight with the Aspid and performing self-healing, I’m a little drained. Healing magic, you know how it is… But don’t worry, I’ll recover much faster here, in the nexus.”

  “Yeah, I figured,” muttered Jamie, lowering himself to the ground next to Damian, his eyes darting to the giant raven.

  The bird took a step forward and touched Damian’s shoulder with her large wing.

  “My gratitude, Child of Earth,” she said in her musical voice. “You and your friends saved my children, even though you didn’t have to risk your life to do so. I will never forget your kindness.” The bird looked around and tilted her head, her round, black eyes fogging with sadness for a moment as she gazed at him. “If I may ask… What is a Child of Earth doing next to the backdoor into the Dark Nav? The Slavic realm of spirits and demons is not a good place for the likes of you.”

  Supporting himself on Jamie’s shoulder, Damian got up with a strenuous groan and took a deep breath, dealing with crippling weakness. Moving slowly, he headed toward the chasm and halted at the very edge, staring down in awe.

  An enormous gorge spread in both directions as far as he could see. It was so wide that the other side of it was barely visible, partially obscured by the veil of dirty, swirling smoke. A fast river flowed at the bottom of the chasm, and even though its bright orange-red waves carried an eerie resemblance to smoldering flames, it emitted neither warmth nor the elemental energy of Fire. On the contrary, it seemed to feed on any energy—magical or elemental—suppressing and destroying it.

  “River Smorodina,” Damian exhaled, taking a step back involuntarily. Standing in such close proximity to the river of torment, his weakness seemed to increase, making him dizzy and nauseous.

  “Yes, it is,” the Mogol agreed flatly, halting by his side. “Neither you nor your human friend should be anywhere next to it. It’ll destroy your humanity. You should leave this place and never return here again.”

  Damian smiled mirthlessly. “I wish I could,” he said, staring across the chasm at the invisible shores of the Sacred Isle. “This is where we need to be.” He jerked his chin toward the other side of the gorge.

  The bird Mogol shook her head, kicking a stone off the cliff with her iron talons. As the rock flew down, Damian held his breath, counting the seconds, but the sound of it landing never came.

  “Please enlighten me, Child of Earth,” Mogol said, her voice filled with sarcasm. “How were you planning to cross the river? On your wings?” She chuckled. “As soon as you rise above the river, it’ll drain your magic and your elemental energy, making you weaker than you are right now. Your wings will give in, and you’ll plummet down, feeble and helpless like a newborn hatchling. I know you’re immortal, but you’ll be dying and getting resurrected in a never-ending cycle, and the river Smorodina will never release its hold on you. And even if you find a way to break free, what comes out after won’t be you.”

  She fell silent and took in a deep breath, her elect
ric-ultramarine feathers puffing out on her chest.

  “I see your friend is protected by Veles,” Mogol continued, nodding at Jamie. “But even this powerful amulet can’t save his soul if he falls into the flaming waters.”

  “I know all that,” Damian replied, averting his gaze. “I wasn’t going to travel on my wings. Besides, as a Child of Earth, flying is not my strongest suit.”

  “Very true.” Mogol inclined her head, sparkles of good-natured humor shining in her eyes. “Children of Earth don’t appreciate the beauty of air.”

  “I hate flying,” murmured Damian and then added louder, “I knew that Veles’ amulet would protect Jamie as long as he didn’t touch the flames of the river. My plan was to summon Chernobog and ask for his help and protection. He’s the only god of the Slavic pantheon who can grant safe passage to a human soul across the river Smorodina. Not even the god of the Three Realms, Veles, can do it.”

  “Ask Chernobog?” The Mogol laughed, the sound of her laughter resembling the guttural call of a raven. “Chernobog doesn’t do favors, and one doesn’t just ask the King of the Dark Nav for help. You beg him on your knees. And even if he agrees to help you, you’ll be forever in his debt. Is that what you wanted to do, Child of Earth? Become a slave of one of the most powerful dark deities?” The Mogol looked away before continuing. “Since you’re not an angel, judging by your wings, you’re a Commander of the Destiny Enforcers. Am I right?”

  “Yes,” replied Damian, knowing ahead of time what the Mogol was going to say next.

  “Chernobog hates the Destiny Council,” the bird continued. “What do you think he would do to you? I understand he can’t kill you, but trust me…” The Mogol’s voice trailed off as she touched Damian’s shoulder with her giant wing. “There are things he can do to you that are a lot worse than death.”

  “Everything you said is true. I know that,” agreed Damian, “and I’m still going to do it. This is the only way I can complete my mission.”