Shadow Soul

by R. Michael Card

“And I know you seek nothing from me, my child,” the dragon said to Hildr. “Yet I sense something new within you and will give you this one additional boon. Come to me.”

  She stepped forward, seeming surprised. The dragon did as it had done with Caerwyn — and she was guessing with Volf though she hadn’t seen it — and touched her head with its snout. Hildr drew away a little confused. She said nothing but her furrowed brow spoke volumes. Either she had no clue what the dragon had done, or it had thoroughly baffled her.

  “Thank you,” she said backing away.

  “May your life be bountiful and long,” the dragon said. It let out a great gust of smoky air and seemed to shrink a little, losing some of its luster. The one odd thing about the dragon that Caerwyn’s mind had trouble reconciling was the intense sense of power it gave off versus the great feeling of age and wear. The more she looked at it the more she saw past the aura of power to all the missing scales and the slow movements. She had to wonder how old this dragon was. Supposedly, the age of dragons had been… well, she knew now. From the knowledge the dragon had given her, she could discern that it had been a hundred centuries since dragons had ruled this world. That was along life.

  “I grow weary,” the dragon said its voice losing some of its presence. It began to sit and settle and curl back in on itself. “I must save some energy for the next generation of your people.”

  It was settled not long later, and the smooth even movements of its torso suggested it had fallen asleep quickly.

  Hildr was joining them. Her voice was a little sad and lost when she spoke. “We have been thinking for some time now that the dragon may not live much longer.” She sat folding her legs under her. “The past three generations who have come have all noted how it wanes and grows weary a little sooner each time.” A heavy sigh. “I and my father believe its next generation of boons will be its last.”

  Caerwyn’s heart broke a little at such news. It was impossible to believe that a creature of such power could die, and yet it seemed so very likely.

  “I’m sorry,” was all she could think to say. She had to wonder: if she hadn’t come, if it hadn’t helped her, would it have lasted still another generation for the Dronnegir?

  Volf sat nearby. He was looking at something on his hand, a ring?

  “Is that your gift?” Caerwyn asked. She had to ask again before he realized the question was for him.

  “Yes. And I learned… so much.”

  She nodded, understanding the wonder and awe she saw on his face.

  “What a magnificent beast!” This voice was new and unknown to Caerwyn. “It shall be mine!” The words and tone were arrogant and incongruent with the peace and power of this place.

  She should have reacted faster, but she was still too consumed with the gifts of the dragon to move quickly.

  Barami let out a grunt.

  Caerwyn turned to see the man being held by…

  Her eyes went wide, and she suddenly knew what was happening. The odd thing was, she’d known there were drahksani following her. Somewhere in her mind, she’d registered feeling their presence, but this entire trip that sense had been overwhelmed by the sense of the dragon ahead of her.

  She’d ignored the little warning within her and now it was too late.

  Of the band of men she’d seen with Gosse, she knew now that two of them were drahksani. Barami had told her of a wizard — a tall lean man — and a brute who’d tossed Jais around like he was nothing. She guessed it was the wizard who stepped around a column of stone. He held no weapon but radiated a sense of power not unlike that of the dragon. The brute was the one holding Barami in a constricting grip.

  The large man had one long arm wrapped around Barami pinning the Southern warrior’s arms to his side. The other hand clutched him under the jaw, around his neck. Barami’s eyes were bulging from lack of air as he struggled to be free.

  “If you wish your friend to live, you will surrender yourselves to me now,” the wizard said in a soft sneering tone. “I have a proposition for the drahksani among you.”

  29

  Volf acted too late to do anything useful.

  So, he did what he’d always done when threatened. He slipped into his shadow-form — the true name of what he had called his shadow-self — and vanished.

  A tap on the smooth, round, glowing red jewel in his new ring and he’d make no sound as well as he ran from the threat and abandoned everyone. There was more the ring could do, but he’d not had time to assimilate all its powers.

  He hated himself for leaving.

  He was working so hard to show Caerwyn he was a man worthy of her, and here he was running from a fight. She would never run, he was certain of that.

  Even though he still didn’t fully understand everything the dragon had shown him, nor did he fully understand the powers within the ring he’d been gifted, he seemed to be able to use some without too much work.

  He wrapped his shadow-form around him tighter as he ran and the world around him blurred. This was ‘shadow-walking,’ He’d learned of this new ability from the dragon. He’d be able to traverse more distance now than he would if he’d been running normally. It was all still new, and he wasn’t even sure how he was doing what he was doing. Perhaps, once he had time to take in everything the dragon had shown him, it would all fall into place, but for now, he was just glad it worked.

  It had taken them some time to walk from the entrance to the cave to where the dragon lay, but he traversed that distance in a matter of minutes.

  There he stopped and dropped his shadow-form.

  The storm had passed, and the sky was clearing. It was still day, but the peaks around him were so high that the sun was already well behind them, casting long shadows. He tried to catch his breath and recover himself.

  Looking back into the cave, he sent his senses out. This was another new ability — or perhaps one he’d always had but never knew of. He cast his awareness back into the dragon’s cave and was able to see and hear what was happening in that place without being anywhere near it. Again, the how of what he was doing eluded him, but he was aware that it was easier to do this to a place he knew well or had been recently.

  Sight came first, and he saw that the situation hadn’t changed much in the short time since he’d left. It looked like Caerwyn and Hildr had surrendered themselves, their weapons piled in one spot as they stood together, a little distance from the other two men. Barami was still held, but he didn’t look like his life was in danger anymore. The tall, thin man was talking.

  Volf’s hearing came a moment later.

  “…with me and we can crush the scum of humanity under our heels!” The lean man lifted a hand and clenched it into a fist. “They do not deserve our help! They are the ones who befouled our kind to create those who would hunt us. They are the ones who destroyed us in the great wars! Humanity sought dominance and caught us unawares, but we can take back our power and be the dominators! We will rule this world!” Spittle flew from the man’s mouth with the vigor of his words.

  “I will never join with you,” Caerwyn said defiant and brash.

  That’s how Volf should have been instead of fleeing.

  “You are in no position to refuse me. You will come willingly, or you will come unwillingly, but either way, you’re coming with me.” The man sneered, and Volf felt a strong urge the punch the look off the man’s face.

  “How will you control me?”

  The man laughed. “For now, I simply have to threaten this one.” He nodded his head toward his companion holding Barami. The massive man gripped Barami’s throat once again and began choking him. “Shall I have Gerhardt kill him slowly? No, killing him would only incite your rage. But I can have him cause great harm and pain to your friend.” He turned back to Gerhardt. “Stop. Pull an arm out of its socket to start.”

  “No!” Caerwyn said taking a step forward, but a look from the wizard caused her to stop.

  “Do you not wish him harmed?”

&n
bsp; “No, please.”

  The wizard stalked over to her, standing before her unafraid, taller than her by a head he glared down at her. “I shall keep him in one piece for now. But you must see that I am in control. What I do now can be undone. But if you question me further, other things might happen to your friend… which cannot be undone.” He tore his gaze from Caerwyn and nodded to Gerhardt.

  The big man kept his hand on Barami’s throat but released the arm around the other man’s torso. He lifted Barami by his throat rather easily as if the aged warrior were nothing but a doll. Then he wrapped a meaty hand around one of Barami’s arms and gave a slight, quick tug.

  Barami’s face contorted in pain and he probably would have screamed if his air had not been restricted. Caerwyn and Hildr gave twin cries of alarm.

  Gerhardt brought the other man back in toward him and wrapped his arm tightly around Barami once more, releasing his throat. Barami gasped and panted with pain.

  The lean one turned back to Caerwyn. “Do you understand now? Are you willing to comply?”

  Despite the defiance clear on her face she nodded. She apparently couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

  “Say it!”

  “I comply!” Caerwyn shouted harshly.

  The man smiled viciously. “Good. Now it is time for my—” He cocked his head to one side. “Hold!” He called sharply reaching out a hand in a grasping motion. The lean man then stalked away from Caerwyn. Volf’s magical vision followed him until Elria came into view.

  “No!” Volf found himself breathing the word.

  He must have run right past her and not noticed.

  Gods! How many had he doomed with his cowardice?

  Elria was frozen in mid-step as she’d crept around a rock pillar. Her eyes were wide with surprise as the lean man came into view. She looked like she wanted to move but couldn’t. Volf guessed from the tall drahksan’s grasping motion, the man had done something to hold her in place.

  “What do we have here? Another human who thinks she can threaten her superiors? That will not do. Gerhardt!”

  The large man lumbered into view a moment later.

  “Take her.”

  Gerhardt nodded and put his free hand under one of her slightly outstretched arms and picked her up. Elria remained in her pose, stuck as the brute carried her to the other two women.

  The lean one laughed. “Now, my young drahksan acolyte, I give you a choice.”

  Volf couldn’t watch anymore and withdrew his extended awareness.

  He drew in a sharp breath as he blinked and looked around him to recall where he was.

  He had to find help.

  Looking out of the cave and down the mountainside he nearly cried with relief.

  Two shapes were clambering up from the river landing far below.

  “Who shall live?” the wizard said with a curling grin, making Cearwyn’s skin crawl. “Pick one of these two humans. They shall die gloriously for our cause. The other can remain alive, for now.”

  “I could never!” Caerwyn had no words for this man’s vileness. It made her sick, but what made her even more ill was her own inability.

  Her heart was pounding. This was all too much too fast. She still hadn’t had time to clear her mind of the dragon’s gifts and was reacting too slowly.

  Volf had vanished, but she didn’t know what that meant. Was he trying to help, or had he fled? She didn’t know and couldn’t count on him. She just didn’t know him well enough to have any sense for what he was doing. Barami she could count on, but he was injured and restrained.

  Hildr was giving her a stern look. Caerwyn got the meaning clearly enough: ‘let’s fight,’ But she couldn’t, not while Barami was at the whim of that brute of a man. She locked gazes with Hildr and then flicked her eyes off to Barami. Hopefully, the other woman got the hint. If they were going to do anything, freeing him would have to be a part of it. Hildr followed her gaze discreetly and gave a nearly imperceptible nod.

  She’d rather fight than be this man’s puppet. Barami would understand that.

  Elria wouldn’t be able to help. Gerhardt had set her down near the wizard and she still seemed frozen. It was just Hildr and herself against these two vicious men.

  She screamed and with three quick steps reached the wizard, punching him hard in the face as he stared at her, stunned. Then she dove for her new spear… remembering only now she didn’t need to hold it to control it. She came up ready and glanced at Hildr who was trying to tear that brute’s arms away from Barami and free him but having no luck. She was having to dodge his other heavy fist as he swung lazily at her.

  Caerwyn flung the spear at the brute’s head.

  It would have hit.

  “Halt!” The wizard’s command echoed around the chamber. Caerwyn wasn’t quite sure what he’d done, but the spear wasn’t moving. It hovered a hair’s breadth away from the brute, quivering.

  She tried to push it onward with her mental control, but such control was still new to her. She was able to push it forward, but only after the brute had moved out of its path.

  “Stop or she dies!”

  Caerwyn glanced at the wizard who now held Elria, knife to her throat. The woman’s eyes were darting about, but seemed the only part of her able to move.

  Shades and Shadows!

  She let Davlas drop to the floor with a mental command. Better it stayed near the enemies just in case.

  “Gerhardt, stop playing!”

  Caerwyn heard a muffled scream and turned to see the brute with a hand over Hildr’s face, grasping her skull like it was some child’s ball.

  “Last chance, drahksan!” the wizard called out. “Either you surrender now and choose one of these women to die, or they both die, and I’ll let Gerhardt tear your friend apart… slowly! What will it be?”

  She was outmatched. She had one weapon and could probably take out one of the two men, but not both, not fast enough to avoid someone dying.

  Years of experience as a warrior, a general, a leader, meant Caerwyn could easily see and assess tactics. Her mind flashed through so many now. There were options open to her, but none of them were good. Plans came and went, discarded because none of them would get everyone out of this alive. Too much was stacked against her. If one of the enemy hadn’t been holding someone hostage, if even one of her allies had been free, there might have been a chance, however slim to win this fight.

  But she quickly realized, that every plan, every tactic would mean death for someone.

  For the briefest of moments, she limited her plans to those where she would be the only casualty. There weren’t many of these options, and still in most of them, another ally would perish as well. But the simple and honest truth was… she didn’t want to die.

  Which left her nothing.

  No options to get out of this. There was no fight she could bring to the enemy to save everyone. Someone was going to die.

  The choice before her now was simple: would someone die in a fight, or would she surrender and choose one of Elria or Hildr to perish?

  Fights were inherently unstable. If she chose to fight, something unforeseen might occur. Yet she didn’t want to give up, didn’t want to have to choose someone to die.

  And yet… if she did fight, she’d seen all the possibilities, she’d essentially be choosing someone to die anyway, and the fight might not turn out as she’d hoped. She didn’t know enough of her enemies to be completely certain of any outcome.

  She wanted so much to fight, to resist, to go down swinging… yet she couldn’t.

  And with that realization… something within her broke and crumbled.

  She screamed and fell to her knees, head in hands. She buried her fingers in her hair and clenched tight. The pain helped to clear her head. But she knew she’d lost.

  “Will they both die, or will you choose? Last chance!”

  “I’ll choose!” she shouted through restrained tears. “Gods, I’ll choose,” she whimpered.

&nb
sp; But how could she?

  Hildr had been growing so close to Barami. By all the gods, Caerwyn had heard them talking about children and other things domestic! They were practically planning a life together. How could she do that to Barami? How could she take away the woman he’d finally found who was a match for him?

  She couldn’t.

  But Elria was an innocent as well. Caerwyn had seen how Jais had looked at her. There was something between them, and even if Caerwyn did perhaps wish a child from Jais, she wouldn’t want him to be deprived of a possible relationship with another. Then there were the women’s father’s. Neither would be happy to learn their daughter had died, chosen by her. Those staunch men were already sorry enough for letting any of them come here. She’d never be able to show her face to the Dronnegir again.

  “Now!” the wizard demanded.

  A word slipped out. She didn’t know how or what mechanism in her mind had already made the impossible choice, but it had. “Elria!”

  Oh, gods!

  Laughter flooded around her. “See how easy that was! Now get up and bind that other human while I prepare for the ritual.”

  Ritual? “What Ritual?” She’d already proven she was no threat to him.

  More laughter.

  She looked up to see him sneering as he chortled at her weakness and ignorance. “Why, the ritual where I kill that dragon and take its power.” His laughter changed pitch and flew into a wild cackle.

  Elria’s eyes were still wild. The look the other woman gave Caerwyn was one of sheer horror and reproach. She knew she was going to die and that Caerwyn had picked her over her cousin.

  Caerwyn had to look away, tears filling her eyes.

  Gods… please…

  Her heart was breaking, torn. She’d endured so much in her life, and this was what she’d come to. All her powers, all her skills as a warrior, and she was powerless to stop this madman.

  Her mind raced, trying still to come up with some desperate plan to save everyone, but she couldn’t. Every action she thought of led to the death of Barami or one of these women.

  Her teeth were clenched, jaw aching from the force. But if she opened her mouth she’d scream, or weep and she wasn’t the type of woman who did either.