Shadow Dancer

by Macie Cage

  He gave the Prince a miserable smile. “That obvious?”

  “You never had it in you… to hate.” Caiden paused, closing his eyes as he gasped for breath. “I figured it out… a while ago.”

  Evander squeezed the cool fingers in his hand. The Prince’s grasp was quickly weakening.

  “I’m glad... really. As much as I loved… our days in the castle, this last month… was definitely… the best.” Caiden’s words were soft, the last leaving his lips on a sigh.

  “I… Yeah, it was fun,” Evander slowly forced out the reply as Caiden’s trembling finally ceased. “Caiden?”

  Caiden didn’t reply.

  “Caiden?” He gently shook his shoulder.

  Nothing.

  “Eva!”

  He didn’t have the willpower to raise his head at the call. It was only when Riu was grabbing him and dragging him away that he seemed to wake up. He tried to shrug her off, only for her to yank him back while Karen knelt beside Caiden.

  “Karen?” he asked slowly.

  “I received a message from Malik. I brought her along, fearing the worst.” Riu’s hands were a comforting weight, her presence warm against his back as they waited for Karen to finish.

  The cook sat back, looking over her shoulder at them. “He’s already gone into shock. He isn’t dead yet, but he is dying.”

  “But there has to be something. Anything!” Evander could feel himself shaking, trying desperately to keep his panic in check. Karen gave Riu a skeptical look. Evander turned towards the girl. “Riu please, please tell me, anything, I don’t care what it is. There has to be a way.”

  She chewed on her lower lip. “My ability swaps souls. If we put an injured soul in a healthy body, it might encourage him to wake up. If we put a healthy soul in an injured body, they wouldn’t die.”

  Evander stared at her, hope a cruel flame in his chest. “Will it work?”

  “I don’t know. It may just kill both—”

  “Riu, if you switch mine and Caiden’s souls, would it work?”

  She made a noise in the back of her throat, a myriad of conflicted emotions flickering over her features. “Maybe?”

  “Do it. Please, Riu, you have to do it.”

  “You might both end up dead.”

  “So?”

  She hugged him, her arms tightening around him briefly. “You may not value your life, but I do. And I know you aren’t going to listen to me.” Her forehead bumped against his. “Fine.”

  He let her direct him, his body mirroring Caiden’s as he laid down.

  “You’re sure?” she asked as she settled above his head.

  He looked up at her. “Riu. It’s not that I don’t value my life. It’s just worth very, very little if I don’t have anything to do with it.” He was a miserable wreck and he knew she saw that. He didn’t know how to live outside of taking care of stupid, irresponsible Princes.

  She sighed and placed her hand, cupping the back of his head with her fingertips pressed into the base of his skull. She did the same to Caiden before leaning down and pressing her lips against his temple.

  “I promise I’ll bring him back to you.”

  “You better.” He let his eyes close as a wave of dizziness made his vision fade, his body slowly going numb.

  Thirteen

  Month of the Maiden 26, 421 HE

  Evander blinked. His body felt heavy and sore, cumbersome. He had an odd feeling of disconnection, like there was a delay between his mind and body. He slowly turned his head, finding himself in the familiar surroundings of Caiden’s room.

  Why am I in Caiden’s bed? It wasn’t beyond the Prince to insist that his servant sleep in the larger, more comfortable bed when he was hurt, but he couldn’t remember getting injured to that extent.

  He slowly levered himself into a sitting position. Something didn’t feel right. His movements were clumsy at best. It took him a few tries before he managed to get the blanket off of him. Then he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pushed himself to his feet.

  He swayed a moment, disoriented as his line of sight was a few inches higher than what he was used to. He tried to step forward, but his legs were too heavy; he couldn’t quite get them to move as he wanted. He stumbled, his knees refusing to hold his weight and depositing him on the floor with a loud thump and clatter as he tried to catch himself, only succeeding in knocking a silver platter off its perch.

  He stared at it, his reflection only slightly distorted in the tray. Red hair, a pale freckled face, blue eyes wide and confused. He tilted his head and the reflection moved as well. He was staring at Caiden, but…

  The door crashed open as Sir Hayden rushed into the room, followed closely by Jedidiah and the court Priest.

  “Your Highness!” The physician directed Sir Hayden to pick him up and put him back in bed.

  Evander looked around for a moment, disoriented, before realizing that they were talking to him. The knight was already in the process of lifting him, and Evander saw the scar that stretched across the side of his face. Then he wondered why Hayden was the first response, not Sir Michael.

  “Sir Michael…” Evander’s words were slurred. His tongue felt heavy, as though he couldn’t convince it to form the words the way he wanted.

  “Your Highness, please lay down. We will explain that in a moment.” Jedidiah pulled the blankets over him and beckoned the Priest forward.

  Maddox was younger, having recently taken the position from the previous pastor when the other retired. Evander had been warned about him. The entire Clan had. He was one of the few ability users allowed to use his power publicly. The Exorcist, they called him. Able to see the soul of a person, able to see their ability if they were an ability user, and able to nullify it. It was a horrifying ability, disgustingly unfair.

  Or so he had thought until he met the man. He’d had to. When the Priest was introduced to Caiden, the man wouldn’t stop staring at Evander. He remembered how terrified he’d been. He was so sure he was going to be outed and killed. Yet the man simply introduced himself and said, “You have a strong soul.”

  The compliment had caught him off guard, but it quickly became apparent that the man wasn’t going to tell on any of them unless they were a threat. Now, he wasn’t so sure if they remained in his good graces. After all, most of them would be branded as traitors now.

  The man was already frowning as he stepped forward, examining him.

  “Well?” Sir Hayden demanded.

  Evander stared at the Priest and the man stared back. He knew. He had to know.

  “He seems free of any and all magical influence. He is… himself.”

  Evander stared at him and received a pointed glare in return.

  “Oh, thank the Gods. Your Highness, we feared you’d never wake.” Jedidiah gave a sigh of relief.

  “What… happened?”

  “Evander assassinated the King, Queen, and the young Princess, then went after you. However…”

  Sir Hayden shared a look with Jedidiah. “I saw you both falling from the castle window. You both just disappeared.”

  “Then Ansom took the throne. We thought that something was wrong. We tried to find you before he did, but we were too late. We found the bodies of several of the Vladimir Clan. We followed Ansom’s trail, but we must have been a day or two behind him.”

  “And… Evander?” he hesitated before using his own name to refer to the Prince.

  “Evander was gone. Ansom was already dead when we found you. I didn’t believe Ansom’s tale, but was it true?”

  “I…” He paused, trying to mimic Caiden’s way of talking. “No. He saved me from Ansom. We were hiding when they found us again. We managed to defeat most of his elites, but we ran from him.” The words came easier, his mouth forming the sounds smoothly as he spoke as Caiden would. The less he thought about it, the easier it became. “We trapped him and… I-I guess I was injured.” He subconsciously touched the thick scar on his stomach, those final moments sti
ll replaying in his mind.

  “So he was responsible for it. That bastard,” Jedidiah growled. “Beg your pardon, Your Highness.” The older man bowed and quickly gave him a check over, determining him weak but healthy. Sir Hayden watched Evander with an odd look.

  “Um, how long have I been sleeping?”

  “Only four days. You must be hungry. We’ll have the servants bring something. Maddox, since you’re the highest rank here, please inform His Highness of anything else. I must begin preparations.” Sir Hayden bowed and left the room.

  There was a heavy silence that followed. Evander glanced nervously between the Priest and the Physician, both of whom were staring at him.

  “Uh…”

  “Riu actually got it to work, didn’t she?” Jedidiah asked quietly.

  Evander felt himself pale. “How did...?”

  “You have distinctive mannerisms. I could tell by the way you guarded yourself, you weren’t Caiden. That and this.” The old physician chuckled and held up the small golden earring, the ruby glinting in the sunlight. Then the old man sobered. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know. Riu must have taken him.” Evander held out his hand and the Physician placed the treasure in his palm. The pieces were sealed by magic. They would only come off if the wearer died. Evander turned the piece over in his hand. Had it come off when they switched bodies? Had it been when Caiden had stopped breathing? Had Caiden died?

  Was Caiden dead? He wouldn't put it past Riu to put him in Caiden’s body and leave him to rule in the Prince’s stead. It would avoid an inevitable war over the throne. But why wouldn't they tell him? Where did they go? He supposed that they couldn't come back to the castle, not with ‘Evander’ still being wanted and the entire Vladimir Clan being branded as criminals. His head was still trying to catch up to the events.

  The priest sighed and ran his hand through his hair, bringing Evander back to the present. “Look, we need to hold the coronation ceremony soon. In about a month at the latest. The crown is a magical artifact. It’s tied to the royal bloodline and shines with the ‘Divine Light’ when a new King is crowned as proof of their claim. It’s one of the reasons why the Royal family has remained on the throne for so many years.”

  Evander stared at him. “But is it blood or soul related?”

  “Both.”

  Evander leaned back. “So…”

  “We can fake it. You’re in Caiden’s body, there’s the blood, but magic deals mostly in the soul, so while it would trigger the first part of the spell it won’t finish it. I can try and cause the same effect. In the meantime, do you know the Prince’s speech to the people?”

  “I wrote half of it.”

  “Evander.” Evander looked up at the Priest as the man began to move towards the door. “You are Caiden now. Don’t mess it up.” He pulled open the door then looked back at him once more. “Oh, and the remaining members of the Vladimir Clan have all been imprisoned, awaiting your sentence.”

  Evander felt his blood run cold.

  --†-- Dragon 20 --†--

  Evander laid still as the child crawled into his bed, the young Prince’s body quivering as he cried. He ignored him, pretending to sleep.

  “I’ll fix it.” The child sniffled. “I’ll make it so magic isn’t bad anymore.”

  Evander swallowed hard. His heart was pounding against his ribs, his hands trembled, and he felt ill. He sat upon the plain wooden chair that had been brought out for the event, placed at the base of the dais where the thrones sat.

  It was still a week before his coronation, but this had been put off for too long and he’d received so many questions and complaints that he had to call for the Vladimir Clan to be brought forward.

  There had been over sixty of them before the coup. Ten men and women knelt in front of him. Many were injured, clearly abused during their time in the dungeons. All were resigned to their fates.

  Their charges were read and then silence befell the room. There was a gallery of people who’d gathered to watch the judgment, the council members who would advise the decision, and the gathering of nobles who’d been invited to view the procedure. Evander had accompanied Caiden to these hearings for years and had been present when Caiden was finally told to do it himself.

  “Your Highness, with your permission, we would also like to bring the Priest here,” one of the Council members spoke. He was a small, wrinkled man, the one in charge of handling the treasury. Evander nodded his consent.

  Maddox was brought in and Evander could see the confusion on the man’s face, which quickly gave way to outrage as he was practically shoved into the group of prisoners.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Evander demanded before the Priest could speak.

  “He is a magic user as well. His ability allows him to see the ability of others. This would suggest that he was a part of this conspiracy as well, seeing as he has never accused any of the Vladimir Clan of being ability users.”

  Evander took a deep breath and let it out slowly, sitting up straight. “Your fear of magic invites misunderstanding and shows a severe lack of information on the subject.”

  “Excuse me, Your Highness, but with all due respect—”

  Evander raised a hand and the man fell silent. “I have studied it, extensively, as any of the nobility can attest to.” He gestured towards the gathered nobles, several of whom bowed their heads in acknowledgment. Caiden had spent several years soaking up information on magic and magic users until Evander finally managed to curb his interests.

  “From my understanding,” he continued, “an ability must be activated or triggered in order to work. Unless Pastor Maddox walked around all day and night with his ability in use, there is no way that you can say that he knew of any of their abilities. It is also shown through several studies that the use of abilities results in a drain of their energy. It would be exhausting to do such a thing. Therefore, it is clear that he’d only use it when asked to. He has served us diligently through the years and has always used his ability for our benefit.”

  He eyed the Council and was pleased to see them squirm. They had been taking liberties, claiming that he was still too ill, too weak, to properly give commands. They were trying to turn Caiden into a puppet and Evander would sooner die than allow that to happen. It had resulted in a rather stressful month.

  “Pastor Maddox, please stand. I apologize for your treatment.”

  The man shoved away the guard and bowed deeply towards him. “My thanks, Your Highness.”

  “The charge against the Vladimir Clan still stands, Your Highness. Their charge is treason and murder atop the charge of their having magic.”

  “You.” Evander pointed at one of the younger men who looked up at him with fear. “You are Lawrence, correct?”

  “Y-yes, Your Highness.”

  “Where were you the night of the coup?”

  “I was in the servants’ quarters.”

  “Yes, I recognize you. You were in one of the groups I arranged to escape the castle. Did you know of Ansom’s plans?”

  “No, Your Highness.”

  “Lies,” one of the council members spat. The boy recoiled.

  Evander ignored them, quickly thinking through what he was about to attempt. “What is your recount of the event?”

  The boy blinked at him as though he hadn’t expected the question. Evander listened as he slowly worked through the events of that night.

  He’d been assigned to Sir Hayden’s group and they were ambushed at the end of the passageway that they’d used to escape. Two of the assassins had tried to kill them all. Sir Hayden had been injured and Lawrence had used his ability to protect him and the others until the soldiers were able to defeat the assassins.

  “Bring me Sir Hayden,” Evander called, knowing that the knight would be nearby. He waited until the man was standing before him and asked him to recount his version of the events. After listening to all accounts that were able to be given, he concluded that everyone’
s version of the night matched. Including another two of the Clan members whose stories were also supported.

  “In light of this development, I withdraw the charges of treason and murder from these three,” he declared.

  “That does not excuse their use of magic,” one of the council members pointed out.

  “I am aware,” he replied before moving on to the next person. They were all low-ranking members. Evander could clearly see that they didn’t belong to either faction in their group. Those who followed Ansom had been killed during the coup or had fled once Ansom fell. Those who had been against the man had escaped with Riu during the chaos.

  One by one, he listened to their stories. Most were revealed when they used their abilities to help their friends or to fight against Ansom’s assassins. Then he came to one member that he remembered quite clearly.

  Melanie Vladimir was a maid in the castle. She had become the Queen’s handmaiden when she married into the Kallenport Royalty. In other words, she was the Queen’s assassin. Her ability: Midnight Murder. Anything she touched while her ability was active would lose its lifeforce. It was slow-working, only functioned at night, and left her victims as a distinctive husk. She told her tale with tearful conviction.

  “What is your ability?” he asked.

  “Excuse me?” she stuttered, hesitating.

  “Your ability, what is it?”

  “J-just something simple. I can mend clothing.”

  Evander hummed and stood from his seat, casually approaching the girl much to the guards’ disapproval. Once he stood in front of her, he drew out the dagger he wore on his belt. There was a flash of paranoia in the woman’s face, blatant fear and disbelief, before he stabbed the blade into the hem of his shirt and wrenched it through the fabric with a loud tearing sound.

  “Repair this,” he commanded, easily stepping into her range and waving the guards off.

  He watched her eyes flick around the room, taking in the guards, their weapons, the crowd, the exits, and then finally her eyes drifted to the dagger in his hand. He felt a small, scheming smile draw across his lips. Her eyes twitched to his own and he held her gaze, letting his intent, his knowledge, show through. He watched the woman’s spark of defiance sputter and die out into despair.