The Shadow Rises: A Morgan Rook Supernatural Thriller (The Order of Shadows Book 5)

by Kit Hallows

  RIP 2001 - 2006

  Presumably the years he’d lost to his addiction. My fingers tensed as I loosened the knot and reached inside. A jolt of power rushed through me as I brushed against cold, polished stone. Then I pulled it from the bag.

  The shard was long and jagged and its blackness shimmered like a trail of coal dust on a moonlit night. A low hum thrummed from the stone; a shattering echo of the suffering that had been inflicted on the poor soul who’s life force had been stolen when the crystal was charged. The resonance of pure, black evil.

  The stone pulsed like a living thing as I wrapped my fingers around it and drew in its power. The magic scorched my skin, my blood, and my very cells. I shuddered as it flooded me with malevolent power and my dark other shivered deep within.

  “God Damn it!” I cried, as the power from the stone collided with the black magic I’d stolen before, turning everything to darkness.

  What had I done? What would I become? I forced the thoughts from my mind as Dauple gave a final gasp, gripped my hand, and slipped away.

  4

  The platform faded around us as I gripped Dauple’s lifeless wrist and heavy clouds of darkness whirled in thick plumes of black and gray as the world lost its substance.

  I grasped the sword of intention in one hand and willed it to travel with me.

  The mist swirled faster and faster and when it broke, we were in a strange, incorporeal limbo. An icy breeze scented by deathly things blew around us. I clutched Dauple’s cold fingers in my hand and as the swirling gloom shifted we passed from our world to another. The mist continued to churn and I caught glimpses of the golden motes of light gleaming along the shield I’d conjured with Rhymes’ power.

  Slowly, the fog thinned revealing heavy black stone walls that reached up into the boundless shadows above. As my consciousness settled into this gloomy new place, light from a row of dark candles twinkled from a line of hollows carved into the wall of the corridor. I checked Dauple hoping something, anything, had changed but his eyes were sightless and his body still.

  The air grew icier as I stepped out from under the magical shield, and a ripe hollow breeze laced with the scents of carrion, must, and rot wafted past me. Voices whispered along the short corridor and I followed them to a chamber with the statue of a cowled woman surrounded by clouds of green-tinged light.

  I’d seen her stony countenance before, as well as the circle of seven swords that were laid upon the ground near her gray feet. As I stooped to examine one, I noticed a short tunnel in the wall and followed it to an immense room filled with corpses. Some lay on stretchers, some on stone plinths, and around them were figures dressed in black silken robes.

  Bright blue fire flickered in a nearby brazier. I stepped toward it in the hopes of finding some warmth but my movement drew the gaze of a man attending to the corpse of a shriveled old woman. He was tall and powerfully built and his brow lowered as he moved toward me.

  I turned and rushed back to Dauple.

  “Who are you?” the man called as he followed, his accent heavy but its origin unfamiliar. “Why are you here?”

  “I need help,” I said, and nodded to where Dauple lay, “my friend needs…” The man shoved past me and reached for Dauple but hissed and withdrew amid a burst of golden light as he struck the shield.

  “What is this?” the man demanded. He drew a sword he’d had been concealed beneath his robes. “Remove the spell, he must be anointed.”

  “No.”

  “Are you denying us our duty and purpose?”

  “He doesn’t belong here,” I said, “not yet at least. He has to come back with me.”

  The man shook his head. “Return to where you came from. Now, while you still can.”

  “I’m not leaving him here, he’s not ready.”

  “You’re dictating the laws that govern mortality now, are you?” The man raised his blade. “Go back. This is your last chance.”

  “No.” I pulled the sword of intention. “Not until you help me wake him.”

  The man’s eyes glinted as he examined me closer. “You're the one, are you not? I’ve heard tell of you.” He reached for the disc of bone suspended on the silver chain around his neck and rubbed its center.

  The circle of swords that surrounded the statue glowed and the air in the chamber flickered as an ethereal figure slowly materialized in its midst.

  I saw the raven black hair and I knew it was her, the priestess I’d encountered the first time I’d come to this place. Her eyes narrowed as they focused on me and she hissed as she stepped from the circle. “You’ve returned,” she said as she pulled a sword from the sheath by her side, “that was a grave mistake.”

  “It wasn’t like I had a choice,” I said, doing my best to appear unfazed as I gestured to Dauple. “He needs help, this is not his time.”

  “That’s not for you to decide, otherworlder,” She nodded to the man and they raised their swords.

  I brought my own up and stepped toward her. “We’ve danced this one before. I’m happy to do it again if we must, but I’ll hurt you. You and anyone else with ill intent toward my friend. But if you heal him, we’ll leave in peace.”

  “We are not healers.” the woman said, her words filled with scorn. “We merely attend to the dead, and that man,” her eyes flitted to Dauple, “is dead. He belongs here.”

  “That’s not true,” I said. “I left here with someone before, you remember?”

  “No. You abducted him against his will and escaped, but you won't manage it again.” She nodded to the man beside her and he traced a finger around the disc of bone at his neck. The air shimmered above the circle of swords and another robed figure emerged, a lean and well armed man. As he stepped forward, another man emerged and then a woman, and soon the corridor was blocked.

  I held my head high, conveying a confidence I didn’t feel.

  One of the men, gaunt and elderly, approached Dauple. He reached for him but withdrew his bony hand as the shield shimmered and singed his fingers. I’d used almost all the magic I’d had casting the spell; it was still holding, but it would only last so long.

  I took a defensive step back as a slight priestess with bright eyes thrust her blade at me and tried to twist the sword from my hands. I tightened my grip on the hilt and took a step forward, disarming her then gripping her by the throat. I gazed over her shoulder toward the woman with raven hair. She watched keenly, her eyes unreadable.

  “I’ll kill her.” I said, “along with the rest of you, I promise. You’re priests, not warriors. That’s plain enough to see.”

  “You know nothing of us,” the woman with the raven hair said. She strode forward and swung her sword, forcing me to meet it. I released my hostage as I deflected the blow. Sparks flew from our locked blades and the dark priestess stared me down.

  I stepped away, breaking eye contact. “That’s not true,” I said, “I know at least one thing about you.”

  “What?”

  “That you’re looking for my father. When we first met you told me he’d cheated you.”

  “He cheated our master.”

  “And you want to find him.” I said.

  “We will find him. Just as we'd have found you, given time.”

  I lowered my sword and offered my other hand. “Morgan Rook.”

  “I know who you are.” She gave my hand a dismissive glance.

  “And you are?” I asked, doing my best to seem at ease with the throng of deathly priests surrounding me.

  “Temperance, not that my name is any concern of yours. Now, my brother offered you a chance to leave, and you refused it, which means you will remain within our domain.”

  “Not without a fight,” I said, “and judging by your attempts to subdue me so far, I’m guessing combat isn’t your strong point.”

  “Don’t be so certain,” Temperance said. “You’ve invaded a sacred space, and this violation will not go unpunished.”

  “Of course not, but there are many ways
to repent.” I said, noting the whisper of their robes as they surged toward me. I held my sword out, glad for the crackle of fire fizzling around its silver blade. “Let’s think about this, before things get bloody and painful. You’d rather take this man, who has done nothing to you,” I gestured to Dauple, “as well as myself, instead of Rowan Stroud, the man who cheated your master. Is that right?”

  Temperance held up a hand and brought the other priests to a halt. “We’ll get Stroud eventually, and in the meantime we’ll have his son.”

  “Eventually? Don't be so sure. Are you aware he’s a shade?” I said, “A phantom caught between life and death. I expect he can remain in that state for as long as he chooses and there’s nothing you can do about it, or you’d have done so already. Why wait around with your hands tied when I can deliver him directly to you?”

  Her gaze continued to bore into mine, but her sword lowered. “Where is he?”

  “Right now? I’m not entirely certain. But I’m on his trail and I’ll find him quicker if you don’t hold me up. So what will it be? Would your master prefer two mediocre corpses, or Rowan Stroud?”

  “If it came down to a choice, he’d want Stroud. But how can you possibly deliver him to us?”

  “I intend to kill him.”

  “Why should I believe you? You stole from us before and fled like a thief in the night.”

  “True,” I said, “but I keep to my word.”

  “If we agree to your terms, you’ll deliver Stroud, with no games or trickery?” Temperance asked. “On your life?”

  I could see her naked ambition and the urgent need to serve and please her master. I could have used it to my advantage and lied, but I didn’t. “Yes, but I’ll be honest, I don't know how long it will take. I could find him tomorrow, or it could be in years to come. But I will find him. Or perhaps he’ll find me; after all, I have something he wants.”

  “The other within you,” Temperance said, and as I saw the flicker of apprehension in her eyes, I realized he was probably the only reason I was still alive.

  “Exactly.” I sheathed my sword. “Now let’s make our deal, heal my friend and let him leave with me and I’ll-”

  “Him?” Temperance bared her fangs. “He’s dead. He belongs here.”

  “No, I’m taking him back, he belongs in the blinkered world with me. Restore his life, there’s more than enough power within these blackened walls to get it done.”

  She stared at me for a moment, before giving a slight nod. “Very well, but you must remove the shield.”

  “Sure.” I hid my relief. The spell fueling the shield was moments away from collapsing anyway. I made a show of sweeping a hand over it and withdrawing the magic. Then the air twinkled with golden light, as it melted away.

  Temperance inspected the wound in Dauple’s back, placed her fingers over it, and began to hum in a low, off-key tone. The other priests and priestesses’ joined her, filling the passage with a sedate, ominous chorus that shifted from discordant to deeply melodic. It was the sound of angels and second chances. The mysterious rhythm of life welling up and blooming. A sacred song I should never have witnessed, but was glad to the deepest depths of my heart that I had. Slowly, it swelled and built into a crescendo that was so raw and beautiful that it brought tears to my eyes and I let them fall.

  I watched in silence as Dauple’s flesh knitted itself together and soon the wound was sealed. Temperance turned him onto his back, and leaned over to kiss each of his eyes, before placing a hand upon his chest.

  Dauple coughed and grimaced, gritting his blood-stained teeth. His eyes opened, and he stared at the ceiling with a grave look. And then he gazed from Temperance to me. “What…”

  “Everything’s okay,” I said. “Just stay still.”

  Temperance’s fangs protruded from her lips as she turned my way. “Take him back with you and don’t let us down. Because if you do, I’ll destroy the spirits of those you’ve loved the moment they appear before me.”

  I nodded as I took Dauple’s hand and using the last of the black crystal’s power, willed us to pass out from the charnel realm back to the blinkered world. The stones blurred and ran like ink as Temperance’s eyes locked onto mine. And then they vanished amid billowing columns of smoke as we passed into the terrible limbo between places.

  “Where are we?” Dauple asked.

  “Nowhere.” I gripped his hand and focused my thoughts on the shipyard. The air wavered and the last of the morbid scents disappeared as we found ourselves kneeling upon the platform once more. Dauple breathed deeply and took a moment to gaze around before turning to me. “I was dead wasn't I? Right here. And you saved me.” His eyes glinted with tears.

  “Never mind that.” I clapped his shoulder. “Just get yourself out of the city. Find somewhere safe to go to, somewhere no one knows. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Dauple gave me a weak, yet almost beatific smile, as he added, “I’ve been meaning to visit my brother for a while now.”

  Brother? There was two of them… I suppressed a shiver. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

  “Yes, Alfred. He lives in the north. Not too far from the city, but far enough not to be noticed.”

  “Good. Go there, keep your head down and tell Bastion to do the same, if you haven’t already.”

  Dauple gave me a curious look. “Bastion’s gone, Morgan.”

  “What do you mean gone?”

  “They were going to fire him. Humble sent Osbert and a pair of mercenaries to bring him in. I warned Bastion, told him to flee. He left at once, along with Madhav.”

  “Good,” I said, “although I really need to restock, and sooner rather than later.”

  “Snarksmuth’s taken over the armory now.”

  “Has he?” I reached into my bag for my remaining crystal and soaked up its power. “I can deal with that little shit, you just get out of here, okay?”

  “I will. But where are you going?”

  “I’m going hunting. For Rhymes, Stroud, Lampton. Every last one of them.”

  5

  I used the magic from the crystal to scour for Rhymes’ escape route. A few scattered steps shimmered on the landing and vanished in the spot where he’d dematerialized. I glanced along the platform then down toward the ships and trawlers. The door in the back wall was a blaze of footsteps. I leaped down the stairs and made my way through the tight spaces between the propped-up hulls as Dauple’s mumbling echoed through the eerie silence.

  Foul puddles of ichor spattered the hangar floor, its green-grey color thick and viscous. I’d injured him, badly it seemed, but who knew what demonic powers he still had at his disposal.

  The trail led outside and wove through the maze of hulking boats. The night had grown darker and the snow still fell, adding to the light dusting coating the fluttering tarps and creaking trawlers.

  I hurried on, my gun in one hand, as the other rested alertly on the hilt of my sword. “Where are you, Rhymes?” I searched the gloom for a sign of his passing, eager to catch up. He couldn’t have gotten far with the injures I’d dealt him, which increased the likeliness he’d holed up somewhere.

  Chains rattled and ropes groaned as I emerged onto the beach. I scoured left to right and froze as I spotted two tiny lights beneath the rotting jetty. “Got you, you demonic piece of shit!”

  My shoes sank into thick pebbles as I ran, the lap of the sea stirring the pungent scent of the receding tide. As I clambered over a stretch of driftwood near the jetty, three bright orange sparks flew into the air, their glow illuminating the drifting snow. The sight of them took me back to Galloway Asylum, to when the demon had conjured a monster of rock and stone. These sparks were similar, and I half expected them to settle amongst the stones and driftwood and make a golem of them, but instead they flew out to sea and vanished within its dark writhing depths.

  “Come out,” I called, “face me you fucking coward.”

  His laughter drifted through the air, cold, mocking and insane. Then I
heard a splash and turned back to the sea.

  Three figures rose up from the waves.

  They were short, half my height, and ragged strands of seaweed draped their heads like hair. Their faces were pale and sharp, a macabre mosaic of fused fish bone and shell encrusted with barnacles and limpets. Their bony forms almost glowed in the moonlight and their exposed ribcages housed the sparks that Rhymes had cast to the wind.

  The creatures strode from the sea, their blood-red eyes fixed on mine as they reached for the long rusty cutlasses hanging by their sides.

  I fired. My bullet tore through one of their skulls with a clack, but the creature continued to advance. It crouched down, the others following suit, then they sprang from the water and landed on the beach before me.

  They came at me like a pack of dogs.

  I countered the first attack. The sword of intention’s fire was bright in the darkness, but as it collided with the cutlass its light dimmed, as if it were somehow leeching its power. Moments later the creature’s blade glimmered with silver light, confirming my suspicions.

  Another charged at me. I sidestepped and threw it down onto the beach.

  I flew forward as the third tried to skewer me from behind, its sword jabbing into my back, with only the veiled magic in my coat preventing it traveling further. I whirled around and swung at the golem. It ducked swiftly and my sword passed over its head in a blazing arc. I turned as I heard the stony shift of footsteps coming and blocked the attacking creature’s thrust as I pulled my gun and fired into its ribcage.

  The creature juddered to a halt as the bullet dislodged the animating spark and the bony abomination slowed and jittered like a short-circuiting robot.

  I stepped behind it, shielding myself against the others before swinging my sword at its neck. The blade shuddered in my hand as it bit into the calcified, barnacled bones, severing its head, and the others let out a furious wail as it collapsed onto the beach. I jerked away as a cutlass arched toward my sword hand. I barely had time to parry as they came at me on either side. I leaped back and they collided, one’s cutlass sinking into the other but it barely seemed to register the blow.