Shadow Magic

by Joshua Khan

  “Nice horns.”

  “It’s a bit faded, but with a bit of paint, it’ll be as good as new. We must look our very best. Will you be there?”

  “I ain’t really thought about it.”

  “Get yourself a mask. I will provide a costume.” Merrick gestured back toward the stalls. “The merchant in the blue tent will sell you some bits of old broken masks for a penny. Glue them together, and it would be most horrific.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Let me have a good look at you.” Merrick stepped back and nodded thoughtfully. “You’ve added some meat to your bones. Tyburn is treating you well, then?”

  “Well enough.” Thorn looked past Merrick. The mention of the executioner made him think he should find the others and get back to the castle. “Nice to see you, Merrick. I—”

  “What’s the hurry, boy? Join us for a song. Who knows? You could even pick up a coin or two yourself. I’ve been to fairs before, but never one quite so crowded. But I suppose it’s to be expected. What with all the rumors.”

  “What rumors?”

  “About the dead rising from their graves.” Merrick clapped. “Can you believe it? Zombies, back in Gehenna!”

  Thorn stared at the minstrel. “No. They’re not true. Er, who told you that?”

  Merrick’s eyes shone. “It is true—I can see it in your face. You’re not a good liar, Thorn. I’ve just spoken to a man fresh from Graven. He told me of zombies seen just the other night. And of a boy on a giant bat.” He paused, assessing Thorn again. “Why do I suddenly think that boy was you?”

  How could that story have spread here already? Thorn had only left Graven this morning!

  Merrick continued, leaning in conspiratorially. “There’s been ghosts seen at Witch’s Grove, and the graveyard at Gallowtree is empty. A man told me his cousin saw the dead dancing in the moonlight. These tales have been floating about for almost a year, but they’ve increased most recently.” He looked around and whispered, “Some mention a scarred man, a necromancer behind all these strange events. Do you know who he is? Most people think it’s Lord Iblis, back from the dead.”

  “What?”

  Merrick frowned. “Iblis Shadow was a powerful sorcerer. If anyone could come back across the Twilight, it would be him. I bet he’s more powerful in death than he ever was in life.”

  Thorn cursed. “Listen, I don’t want no talk about Lord Shadow being back. First, it ain’t true, and second, think how Lily would feel, people talking about her dad like that?”

  “Lily, is it? My, you have come far in the world since I saw you last.” Merrick grabbed Thorn’s arm. “Could you perhaps arrange an introduction? To Lady Shadow, I mean? Or better yet, to Duke Solar! Oh, he is the most generous patron to musicians!”

  Thorn pulled himself free. “Good-bye, Merrick. Go back to your dreadful singing and leave off with the gossip.”

  “Thorn, don’t be like that.” He nudged him. “We could split the payment.”

  “Good-bye, Merrick.”

  Thorn trotted back under the stars. He hadn’t gone far when he saw crowds gathered along the edge of the castle moat, halfway between Skeleton Gate and Troll Gate.

  Some women were screaming, and others were crying.

  Soldiers, both Shadow and Solar, leaned over the battlements, pointing down at the crowd. Lanterns spilled out of the gates and lined up along the moat’s edge.

  Fear rose in his chest.

  The ground was uneven and it was dark, but Thorn ran, stumbling, tripping, but not slowing. He was panting, but it wasn’t just breathlessness.

  A maid kneeled in the earth, sobbing. Others stumbled about, too dazed to speak.

  Thorn skidded to a halt. “What’s going on?”

  The maid shook her head. “She’s dead. She’s dead! They killed her….”

  Thorn’s heart almost stopped. “Who?”

  “They wanted her dead, and they finally did it.” The maid closed her eyes, but it didn’t stop the tears. “They’ve killed Lady Shadow.”

  “Outta my way!” Thorn shoved through servants and soldiers, all milling about, not understanding what was happening. “Outta the way!”

  People crowded along the edge of the moat. Two guards were in the water, lifting out a body. Another pair helped carry it onto the bank.

  “Get outta the way!”

  The body lay soaked through, covered in mud, her face obscured by her tangled hair and weeds.

  “No, Lily…” whispered Thorn. He looked up at the guard. “Please, she’s my friend.”

  The guard nodded and allowed Thorn closer. He sank down beside her, suddenly feeble.

  K’leef pushed his way through. He gasped when he saw the body. “She ran off without me,” he said, his voice cracking. “I looked and I looked…”

  “You should have been with her!”

  How long had she been in the mud? A boot was missing. Her clothes must have dragged her down.

  Lily…

  Thorn reached over to her face. His fingers trembled, but he couldn’t let her lie here like this. He gently pulled her hair back and wiped the mud away.

  It wasn’t Lily.

  Air stuck in his throat; he was too shocked to breathe.

  “That’s not Lady Shadow,” said an onlooker. “That’s her maid Rose.”

  They’d swapped clothes. Thorn had been there when it happened.

  Rose’s lips were blue, her face a cold, sickly white, her eyes—thankfully—closed.

  “What’s she doing wearing the mistress’s clothes?” The servants gathered closer.

  One of the older maids sighed. “They used to do it when they were younger. Lily…I mean, Lady Shadow would dress up in Rose’s clothes and go make mischief, fighting the squires, and sneaking out of the castle. It used to drive Mary insane.”

  Mischief. They’d only intended to have fun at the fair, but now look. Thorn sat beside the dead girl. This was his fault. He’d encouraged it.

  “Did she fall in?” asked someone else. “It’s tricky around the edge here.”

  “What’s that?”

  Something was held in her right fist. A strip of cloth.

  Thorn drew it out.

  A strip of white lace. “I’ve seen this before,” he said.

  Did Rose fight back? Did she claw at her attacker as she was pushed into the water? Grab him and tear this off him?

  “Who else wears white?” said one of the guards. “It’s one of them Solars. They killed her. As plain as day.”

  Thorn stood up, the lace still in his hand. “Gabriel.”

  The duke’s son and his squires reached the front of the crowd. Gabriel saw Rose and his lip curled in distaste.

  Thorn tightened his grip on the cloth. What more proof did he need?

  “You killed her,” said Thorn.

  Dark threats hissed in the air.

  “How dare you accuse me?” Gabriel and his squires huddled together, sensing the mood of the people around them. “Step—step back,” said Gabriel. “Do you know who I am?”

  “A coward and a killer!” someone shouted.

  “I did not kill anyone!” Gabriel shrieked.

  The mob drew closer. Men bent down to pick up stones, and a few tapped heavy cudgels in their meaty hands. Rose had been part of their family. She’d grown up in the castle. Her blood was black, just like theirs.

  “Look—look,” said Gabriel, his voice rising in pitch with fear. He stared toward the nearest guards. “There are rules, laws. Laws of hospitality. I am a guest of Castle Gloom. I cannot be harmed within its walls.”

  The guard drew his sword. “You’re not within its walls, m’lord.”

  Thorn hated Gabriel. The boy was all that was wrong with the world. But his hate was nothing compared to the Shadows’ resentment of the Solars. The countries had been at war for centuries. The Solars had taken over vast chunks of Gehenna and were now, with the marriage to Lily, about to take over the rest. The people would be slaves to the white fla
g.

  They wanted revenge.

  K’leef came up in front of him and put his hand on his chest. “No, Thorn.”

  “Get out of my way, K’leef.”

  The Sultanate boy’s dark eyes hardened. “Do not do this. If Gabriel is guilty, then we’ll do it properly, according to the law.”

  “The law doesn’t count for people like him.” Thorn pushed K’leef, who tried to move forward, but one of the Gehennish held him back.

  “Don’t be a fool, Thorn!” K’leef shouted.

  Thorn wasn’t listening. Gabriel was going to pay for his crime right now.

  “Stand back!” Gabriel screamed. “Get back, or I will use my magic on you!” He raised his arms. “This is your last warning!”

  The mob came closer.

  “I’m warning you!” Gabriel threw out his arms. “Stay back or else!” His face went red and he trembled. “It’s…coming…”

  Lights flickered on his fingertips. Small fairy lights that shone and faded like sparkles off a firework. Just not as impressive.

  Gabriel gritted his teeth.

  The sparkles became a dazzling fountain of light.

  It was pretty for about five seconds.

  Thorn shook his head. Typical Gabriel. Pathetic.

  “We don’t want trouble,” said one of the Solar squires.

  Thorn pointed at Gabriel. “We just want him.”

  Would the squires side with Gabriel? There were six of them. Maybe enough to almost even the odds.

  The squires looked at each other and then stepped back, abandoning the duke’s son. He stared around, terrified. “You…you can’t leave me!”

  “Why ain’t I surprised?” Thorn grabbed Gabriel and shoved him to his knees. “Any last words?”

  The boy sobbed. “You can’t do this….”

  “I can.” It was the plain truth.

  He knew Gabriel had done it. Either killed Rose on purpose or by accident, sneaking up and shoving her in the moat and letting the thick weeds and her heavy dress do the rest. Rose, who’d done nothing to anybody.

  “You tried to poison Lily,” said Thorn. “You messed that up, so you had another go and drowned her. And just like with the poisoning, you got the wrong victim.”

  “Poison her? No, I didn’t! You have to believe me!” Gabriel tried to beat off the hands holding him. “I didn’t do anything!”

  “You’re lying. Rose saw you put something in Lily’s cup that night of the feast.”

  “It was spittle! I spat in her cup! That’s all.” He looked around, his face white with terror. “She insulted me. In front of everyone. In front of my father. She snubbed me when she danced with…him!” Gabriel stabbed his finger out at K’leef. “He’s our prisoner! So I spat in her cup to teach her a lesson. That’s all. Please, I’m telling the truth.”

  Gabriel’s confession smacked Thorn in the face.

  He held the strip of silk before Gabriel’s eyes. “And this?”

  “That’s off my old suit. The one I was wearing when you dropped me in that horse dung. I threw it away right after! Someone must have gathered it up. Please, you have to believe me!”

  He’s telling the truth. He’s too scared to lie.

  “Get up,” said Thorn. “Get up and run.”

  Gabriel remained on his knees, shaking. “What are you going to do to me?”

  Thorn grabbed his collar and lifted him to his feet. “I said run.”

  Gabriel wiped his nose and looked at the gathering. “You’ll pay for this.” He turned around and ran back across the bridge. A few stones and clods of earth were thrown at him halfheartedly, but none hit.

  The man holding K’leef let him go. K’leef scowled, then joined Thorn. “You did the right thing.”

  “Then why do I feel so bad?”

  One of the servants shoved Thorn angrily. “You should have let us have him. He deserves it. Look what he did to Rose.”

  K’leef stepped between them. “Don’t you realize that Thorn just saved your lives? If anything had happened to a single blond hair on Gabriel’s head, the duke would’ve had you all dangling on ropes by dawn. Now get back to your homes before you make things worse.”

  “What about Rose?”

  K’leef took off his coat and laid it over her. “We’ll look after Rose.”

  It was Tyburn’s hand that had covered Lily’s mouth. He had tracked her down at the fair and brought her home through an underground tunnel she had never seen before. He had put two guards on the door to her rooms and given her a strict warning not to leave again. Then he had headed back out to try and restore some semblance of order.

  Tyburn knows the secret ways in and out of Gloom. What other secrets is he keeping?

  Now Lily sat in her chambers, a bar of chocolate on her lap. She had planned to give it to Rose as a thank-you present for helping her escape tonight.

  Rose is dead because of me.

  Why had Rose gone out there?

  Because she had wanted to show Fynn how fine she looked, wearing that dress. Like a princess.

  In the corner of the chamber was the Mantle of Sorrows, hanging from a stone mannequin. It was not made of any mortal cloth, but woven out of misery and guilt. Every ounce of suffering, every poor mistake, every wrong judgment made by the ruler of House Shadow added to its length and weight.

  How heavy would Rose’s death be?

  Mary entered. She said nothing and did not look at Lily. She walked to the table, took a taper from her apron, and lit more candles.

  “I want it dark,” said Lily.

  “That won’t make it better, my love.”

  “Nothing should make it better.” Lily fought the urge to cry, but all she could feel was this wave, a huge overwhelming wave of sadness rising from deep inside. She couldn’t give in—if she did, she’d drown. “What have I done, Mary?”

  “You, Lily? You’ve done nothing.”

  “But I made Rose wear my clothes. The killer thought she was me.” Horrible thoughts tumbled around in her head. She hadn’t saved her family, and she hadn’t saved her dog, and she hadn’t saved Rose. She’d failed them all. “I’m so useless.”

  “Don’t say that, Lily. You’re just—”

  “I am! I’ve never done anything good, ever! Not since I was born. Just a useless girl with no purpose but to marry the village idiot. My parents gave everything to Dante because he was everything they wanted. They never needed me, and they never wanted me.”

  “Of course they did. They loved you just as much as they loved Dante.”

  “Then why did they leave me?”

  Mary said nothing but opened up her arms.

  Lily pressed herself against her old nanny, clutching onto her desperately.

  There was Mary’s heartbeat. Strong, solid, and constant, as it had always been.

  “The Solars killed her,” said Lily. “I know they did.”

  “Hush now. Don’t fret about that,” said Mary. She brushed her fingers through Lily’s hair. “Hush, child.”

  How could Mary’s heart be so steady? The Solars had robbed her of more than most: her only children. Mary’s two boys had helped Lily climb trees to get apples, had brought her cakes steaming hot from the kitchen. Lily remembered the day when Mary had waved them off to war, all crying and smiling and proud.

  Then, not much later, Mary had watched Old Colm lead a cart back through the gates with them both lying pale and gashed by sword and spear.

  How could her heart still beat at all?

  Lily looked at the face that she knew almost as well as her own. There were wrinkles, and there was silver hair, and her eyes were not as bright as they’d once been. Yet it was the face Lily had kissed more than any other. “Never leave me, Mary.”

  Mary stroked her cheek. “As if I ever would.”

  A fist banged on the door.

  “Lily!”

  “It’s Uncle Pan.” Lily wiped her face. “Let him in.”

  Pan barged in and stared at her. “Lil
y, thank the Six you’re safe. I heard something…terrible.” Pan’s hair was a tangle of greasy gray rat tails that hung twisted over his equally gray face. Wine stained his shirt, and his trousers were undone, exposing the pasty white flesh of his bulging midriff.

  Lily was appalled and disgusted. This was her uncle? It was as if she was seeing him for the first time.

  When had things gotten so bad?

  “Where have you been?” snapped Mary.

  Pan wore a mask—or rather, had pushed it up onto his forehead. He took it off and fiddled it with it nervously. “I had some business at the fair.”

  “Buying more junk from con men, Uncle?” said Lily. “How much did you give him this time?”

  He’d gone disguised, wearing that mask, perhaps hoping no one would know what a fool he was. Lily grabbed it from him.

  “Lily!”

  She looked at it. It was hideous, a piece of rubbish. Maybe it had been elegant once, but it had obviously been broken and poorly repaired. There were pieces missing, and the joints hadn’t been glued properly.

  “I could buy you something better, Uncle,” she said more gently. “You only need to ask.”

  He snatched it back. “I do not need my niece to look after me!”

  Why is he so angry? Can’t he see I just want to help him?

  Tyburn entered and stared at all three of them. Lily wiping her tears away, Pan glowering, and Mary adjusting some cushions.

  “We need to move Lady Shadow,” said Tyburn, breaking the awful silence. “Her apartments have too many ways in and out.”

  Mary spoke. “Baron Sable’s castle is a day’s ride. We’ll take her there.”

  “I am not leaving Castle Gloom.”

  “Lily, be sensible.”

  “I’m staying.”

  Tyburn looked at Mary. “Put Lady Shadow in the Needle.”

  “But that’s a prison!” Lily protested.

  “And probably the safest place in the castle,” replied Tyburn. “You will remain there until we find this assassin.”

  Lily sank into her chair. Her oldest friend was dead, she was moving to a prison, and in seven days she would have to leave Castle Gloom, forever.