Moonshadow

by J. D. Gregory

  Diana pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. “What on earth does nuclear war have to do with the two of us being in a relationship?”

  “Not a thing. I’m simply trying to help you understand why you would be killed if anyone in authority ever discovered we were romantically involved.”

  “You wouldn’t be killed too?” she asked, not at all surprised that the human receives the harsher punishment.

  “No; I would be sentenced to the Nightmare.”

  “That doesn’t seem quite fair,” Diana replied.

  “That greatly depends on what you deem to be fair, my dear,” Darien said, his tone deadly serious. “The Nightmare is not just a long sleep—what you might call a coma. You are forced to perpetually walk the most terrifying portions of the Veil, alone, until your sentence has been carried out—or your body succumbs to death in the mortal world. Time is very different inside the Veil. If you are sentenced to the Nightmare for two-hundred years, it would seem like two-thousand inside. I for one, would welcome death given that option.”

  Diana shivered to her core, trying her best not to imagine what it would be like to be trapped inside that realm of magical horrors for two hundred years; and apparently, there were worse parts of the Veil.

  She could never let something like that happen to Darien.

  “Well, what are we supposed to do, then?” Diana asked anxiously. “I can’t just walk away from this, but I won’t have you take a punishment like that because of me.”

  “Now you know the struggles I have been dealing with, on an almost constant basis, since the moment we met.” He closed the distance between them and then caressed the side of her cheek with the back of his hand. “I’ve always felt so sure of my place in the world, Diana, but since I met you I haven’t been sure of anything.”

  She smiled at his words but she was still troubled by them. “What if someone finds out about us?”

  “If the time comes, I will tell my superiors that you are bound to me as a thrall and nothing more.”

  “A thrall?” she asked, puzzled. “What exactly is a thrall?”

  “A Tanar bondservant, of a kind. A human may occasionally happen upon the existence of my people—for whatever reason—and we give them the option of either becoming a thrall or death. The majority choose enthrallment.”

  He said it so matter-of-factly that it gave Diana chills.

  “You enslave humans that find out about you?!” she asked. “That is terrible—wait, you’re going to tell people I’m your slave?” Her cheeks flushed with shocked anger.

  “It’s certainly better than being put to death, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Well, yeah. But still—it just feels demeaning.”

  “I wouldn’t let it demean you, my dear. I can’t begin to see you as anyone’s thrall; certainly not mine.”

  She just shook her head. “I can’t believe you enslave humans that find out about you—it’s just wrong.”

  “Would you rather they all be put to death, or ripped from their families and put into prisons?”

  “You don’t take them and force them into labor and servitude?”

  “A thrall isn’t a ‘slave’ in the sense of your English term,” Darien replied. “For many, daily life changes very little—they are simply monitored by a Watcher and report in every so often to perform a service. Others thralls become enamored with my people and choose to serve inside a Naphalei dominion. Quite frankly, both types of thralls tend to live more fulfilling lives than your average human.”

  “How do you keep thralls from going public with your existence?” Diana asked, growing suspicious.

  “They wear a thrall ring that they can never take off. Assigned Watchers are attuned to it and can sense the human’s intentions. Should they seek to betray us, they would receive a quick, and seemingly painless, death through the ring.”

  Diana shuddered at the image. “That’s horrible.”

  She shook her head, as if doing so could somehow make everything exceedingly less complicated. She’d never been one to rush into things before, why start now? They had only just started dating a few weeks ago; taking some time to figure all of this out was probably a good idea.

  At least he wanted me after all. She understood Darien’s reluctance to take their relationship to the physical level, now. Fear of capital punishment tended to do that to a person.

  “As hard as this is on me—mentally, emotionally, and physically—you’re right. We’re talking about life and death consequences just for having sex.” Diana shook her head again at how crazy her words sounded. “That’s a little too extreme for me to handle right now.”

  She sighed heavily and lay back down on the bed, resting her head on the musty old pillow, and stared at the deteriorating ceiling.

  “I am sorry about all this Diana,” Darien said, trying to give her some sort of comfort. “I know how frustrating all this must be for you.”

  You have no idea.

  “It’s okay,” she replied. “Let’s just focus—”. Diana froze in fear as the dreaded eight-legged creature caressed the all but invisible lifeline hanging from a splintered rafter above.

  “Are you alright?” Darien asked, noticing she was transfixed in fear. “What is it?” He stared at the ceiling, failing to see it.

  Is he blind?

  It dropped from the spindle of web above and landed on Diana’s face, shocking her out of the frozen state.

  “Sssspider!” she shrieked in terror as she jumped off the bed, waving her arms violently in fright. “Get it off—get it off—get it off!” She repeated it over and over as she darted to and fro, shaking herself and slapping at her face.

  “Stop flailing about the room,” Darien pleaded. “I can’t get it off of you if you don’t stop running around.”

  His words fell on deaf ears as Diana continued her hysterical dance of fear with the spider. Darien attempted to grab her and stop her, but she only struggled harder as he gripped her sweater.

  She finally broke herself away, losing her balance in the process, and went flying across the room only to crash into a bookcase. The shelves were so old and decrepit that the wood split with the force of her body and Diana, along with the contents of those shelves, became a pile of debris on the floor.

  The spider had fled the crash site, but Diana was too dazed to care. When she finally came to her senses Darien was crouching beside her, taking pieces of broken teacups and splintered wood off of her person.

  Diana pushed herself up from the pile of debris and sat upright.

  “Is it dead?” she immediately asked with purpose.

  “I think so,” Darien replied with a nod.

  “What do you mean you think so? It better be dead.”

  “Then it’s dead. Problem solved.”

  She just stared at him.

  “Don’t just tell me what I want to hear. Make sure it’s dead or long gone. There is no way I am going to be able to sleep in here if I know that thing could still be alive.”

  “Fine,” Darien agreed with a sigh of frustration. “I’ll look around if it will ease your anxiety.”

  As Diana watched him inspect the room, a chill went up her spine at the memory of that monster on her face and she felt creepy tingles on her skin, as if thousands of them were crawling all over her.

  She jumped up and started rubbing and scratching at herself.

  Darien just laughed at her and shook his head as he continued to inspect the pile of broken shelves and behind the bookcase.

  “Well, I do believe the creature has probably skulked off to die in a corner somewhere, I don’t see any trace—” he stopped abruptly, staring at the wall.

  “What is it?” Diana asked in fright. “There isn’t a bigger one behind the shelf, is there?”

  “No, it’s not that,” Darien replied and Diana sighed in relief. She couldn’t take any more of that particular ordeal.

  “There appears to be a draft down here.”

  “Wow, that sure
is a mystery,” Diana said with sarcasm as she drew attention to the state of the room. “How on earth could a draft get in here?”

  “Cute,” Darien replied sardonically. “There’s a current of warm air rising from behind the shelf that you so gracefully just remodeled.”

  “Oh, that kind of draft,” Diana said and then swiftly joined him to have a look for herself.

  Darien closed his eyes for a moment in concentration. “There appears to be an anomaly in the foundation.” He opened his eyes and a wide smile crept to his mouth. “I knew something felt a little odd the basement.”

  He grabbed a hold of the bookcase and gave it a quick, hard, shove, revealing a red curtain with a strange white image stitched on its upper half. Looking a bit like an anchor, the symbol consisted of a shepherd’s crook intersecting a crescent moon, ending with a V shape at the base.

  “I’ve come across this symbol once before,” Darien replied, moving the curtain to the side, revealing the entrance to a spiral stairwell. “In a crusader tomb along the coast of the Black Sea.”

  “Well, aren’t we special?” Diana replied with sarcasm. “Do you know what it means?”

  “Not specifically,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “I assumed it was the sigil of some group of militant priests, like all the others.”

  “That’s fair,” Diana replied and then immediately went to the nightstand, grabbed her flashlight, and turned it on. “Let’s go.” She headed for the stairs, not giving Darien much chance to reply.

  “Caution, Diana,” he said. “I should go in first. There is no telling what we may encounter down there.”

  “True,” she replied with a nod. “Secret rooms in the basement don’t usually contain puppies and gingerbread cookies.”

  Darien took Diana’s hand and pulled back the curtain with his other, allowing her to enter the stairwell. After concentrating a moment, he brought another small flame to life in the middle of his palm to guide their way down the stairs.

  The stairwell descended much lower into the earth than the basement. When they finally reached the bottom, Diana’s eyes went wide with awe as they crossed the threshold into a small cavern.

  Gazing on the walls of dark gray stone surrounding them, with the earthy smell of dirt and rock filling her nostrils, Diana noted how peculiar the cave felt. In fact, the atmosphere didn’t really feel much at all like caves she’d been in the past. They had always felt cool with a hint of moisture in the air, like the atmosphere soon after a rain storm. Instead, this cavern felt eerily warm and dry.

  “What is this place?” she asked, scanning the area with her flashlight.

  “I’m not entirely sure,” Darien replied.

  As Diana surveyed the roof of the cave with the flashlight, she noticed numerous little marks throughout.

  “This cave isn’t all natural,” she said. “I can see tons of chisel marks going off in five directions. From what I can tell, though, I think this central chamber may have naturally been here.”

  “Curious,” Darien replied, apparently too lost in his own world to pay any attention to Diana.

  Growing rather perturbed, she decided to explore on her own and started making her way to the nearest branch of the cave.

  “Stay close to me,” Darien finally cautioned after he realized Diana was about to do something without him. “The barrier separating the Veil from the physical realm is very thin down here. It would be best if you stay close to me, lest some rogue Veil creature smells your essence and seeks to devour it.”

  “That can happen?” Diana asked, very alarmed.

  “To the untrained or impure, the forces of the Veil can be deadly. It’s why we seek out such places and build shrines.”

  Visions of Miri’s dancing filled Diana’s mind as she made the connection. “That’s what Miri meant by ‘soothing the Mother and bringing her back into balance.’”

  “Exactly,” Darien replied with a proud smile. “It’s the duty of the Almar to make these places safe, especially to humans. We should let Miraena know when we return.”

  “Why would Flinders build his house here?” Diana asked. “Didn’t you say he built the church over one of these places too?”

  “Indeed,” Darien replied. “It can’t be coincidental, either. The only explanation is what we’ve come to suspect—Flinders must have learned of my people, our history, and the intricacies of the Veil. ”

  “What about the dangers?”

  “That’s the most curious of all. Flinders must have frequented this place often and oversaw its construction. Without a person experienced with the Veil’s forces, he and his crew would have suffered any number of terrors.”

  At his words, Diana saw the movement of shadows out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to see the barely visible image of a grinning Lurker, fading into dark and hazy nothingness.

  Diana swiftly grabbed a hold of Darien’s arm, resolved to not leave his side again as they inspected the cave.

  Beginning with the nearest branch, they both shined their lights, illuminating the floors, sides, and cave ceilings, looking for clues. At the end of the carved tunnel, they found a rough-cut stone altar with an antique candelabra made of brass sitting atop of it. The brass had aged and turned an aquamarine color, and the mouths of the candleholders had been scorched black by the flames they had once held.

  There was nothing else in the small alcove.

  Diana searched around for some sort of clue, be it a piece of cloth or an inscription of some kind, but found nothing.

  “Let’s just leave it alone,” she said. Darien agreed and they quickly made their way down next branch of the cave.

  They found a similar stone altar with a bowl made from the same aged metal as the candelabra, filled with tepid water. They left it alone as well.

  Atop the third branch’s altar, stood the remains of a small bonsai tree that had long been dead. The fourth had a human skull placed upon it, and when Darien found it, he didn’t seem surprised.

  “You expected the skull; why?” Diana asked as they made their way out of the fourth alcove.

  “After the candelabra and the bowl of water, I had my suspicions,” Darien replied. “The dead tree sealed them. The four altars represent the four Kratari Pillars—Primal, Spirit, Life, and Death.”

  “What exactly is the significance?”

  “They are also the primary schools of magic.”

  “I thought the schools of magic were like Fire, Water, Wind, and Earth,” Diana said, her confusion evident. “You’re a stone mage, right?”

  “Elemental magic falls under the umbrella of the Primal School—magic pertaining to the primal aspects of nature. It’s what humans usually think of in terms of magical powers, but it’s only one school.”

  “Do you learn the other schools as well?” she asked.

  “Of course,” he continued. “In order to grasp the primal powers we must learn to control the powers of spirit. The two schools are opposites, yet without the one, you cannot tap into the other. A mage must live in a constant state of balance between the physical and the spiritual.”

  “I see,” Diana replied. Well, she sort of understood what he was talking about. She knew if she let on that she didn’t quite understand, Darien would continue on for a few more hours and they would never accomplish anything.

  “What does all this have to do with Flinders?” she asked, changing the subject. “Why would he have these altars to the schools of magic? He couldn’t have been a mage.”

  “No; but he must have known one—it’s the only explanation for the existence of this place.”

  “What’s in the last branch?”

  “You’ll see,” he replied with a troubled smile as they entered the final alcove.

  Instead of a stone altar, they stood before a large sarcophagus made of white marble.

  “It’s a tomb,” Diana said softly with respect for the dead.

  “A star tomb—to be precise,” Darien said as he looke
d on the coffin in the distance. “A type of family tomb that was common among the nobility of Qir’Aflonas. They have five branches like a star—one for each school of magic to honor the Kratari, and a final branch for the deceased.”

  Drawing near to the marble sarcophagus, Diana was struck by the carved image lying atop it—a beautiful woman with long flowing hair, her eyes closed as if only asleep, holding a bouquet of lilies to her chest. The very lifelike piece of stonework may have been the most exquisite Diana had ever seen. Captivated by the tranquil face, Diana was reminded of an old photograph that her grandmother had shown her long ago.

  Realizing who the woman was, Diana gasped and went ridged.

  “It’s Charlotte…” Diana said in quiet reverence. Her aunt was supposed to have been cremated.

  “This is exquisite work done by a master stone mage. It might be better than my own.”

  It was definitely better than Darien’s, but Diana didn’t have the heart to say so.

  “I wonder what happened to her,” she asked, walking around the side of the sarcophagus.

  “There’s only one way to know for certain,” Darien said with a look that Diana knew meant opening it. He was waiting for her consent.

  She nodded.

  “How are we going to open it? That lid looks like it took five men to put into place.”

  Darien smiled. “I have it well in hand,” he said and brought both his arms up slightly at his side, the palms of his hands facing upwards.

  Diana felt the chill in her chest and Darien began to move his arms slightly higher. As his arms moved upwards, the lid of the sarcophagus lifted as well. Diana simply stared on in wonder. Darien twisted his body to the left and the lid followed his movements. He then bent down—touching the backs of his hands to the ground—and the lid landed softly with a slight thud. Darien stood back up, took a handkerchief from his pocket, and then rubbed off the small amount of dirt he had procured on the back of his hands. He then waved Diana over to inspect the contents of the coffin.

  The body of her Aunt Charlotte had rotted away long ago, leaving only bones and a few strands of hair. She had been buried in a simple ivory dress, although Diana wondered if the ivory had once been a white whose purity had decayed along with the body. She had not been clutching flowers, however. Instead, she held a golden apple with what looked to be a serpent or dragon made of rubies coiled around it.