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

by Kit Hallows

  They spun toward me, their teeth chattering as they came, their red eyes filled with malicious intent. I hacked at the nearest but it parried the blow and slashed at me.

  I stepped back and was about to skewer it when my heel struck driftwood, sending me tumbling to the beach.

  My head struck the pebbles with a loud crunch and a dull ache spread across my skull. White dots danced before my eyes, the grey snowflakes blurred into a solid mass, and I began to black out as the creatures moved in for the kill.

  6

  I woke with a jolt. My eyes shot open and a cackle filled my ears as one of the creatures vaulted through the air falling toward me, hands outstretched. Wild fire burned in its eyes and the sword of intention crackled in my hand. I thrust it up and skewered the screeching abomination. With a wet groaning scrape it slid bloodily down the blade and its cutlass clattered down onto the stones at my side. A last, rancid breath passed from its rotten lips and I winced as I slung it from my sword.

  The final creature hung back with a calculating gaze and raised its hand. A swarm of black pebbles leapt up into the air, then it threw its hand forward and the violent barrage struck me like a blast of buckshot. Before I could recover, it leaped, soaring over me, and landed behind my back. I barely had time to turn before it unleashed a salvo of attacks, its rusty cutlass hacking at my coat. I jerked away, doing my best to remain on my feet amidst the scattered driftwood as the creature chattered madly and raised another volley of stones.

  I pulled my gun before it could hurl them. The round tore through its yellowed ribcage, but the spark at its center held fast. The creature howled and clutched a hand to its shattered bones as I raised my sword and swung. The first blow struck its bony neck, the second lopped off its arm.

  Stumbling, I sank to my knees and thrust the sword of intention ahead. “End!”

  The creature seized up as the blade dislodged the spark, then its lifeless body toppled to the shore.

  I lopped off its barnacled head and kicked it into the shadows below the jetty. “Got any more tricks?” I called. The darkness there was unnaturally deep, but I could just make out the gleam of Rhymes’ eyes within the murk.

  “Nope, that was my last hoorah,” Rhymes replied with bemusement and resignation. “You’re better trained than I thought.”

  “I’ve dealt with nastier things than you these last few weeks. Now come on out,” I said as I stood at the edge of the jetty, “be brave.”

  “You expect to goad me out with insults? What are we, children? No. If you want me, you’ll have to come in and get me.”

  “Fine.” My body throbbed and ached, but that was nothing new. I clenched the sword and stepped into the shadows beneath the rotting struts. The depth of the darkness was focused near the shoreline and it oozed like an inky cloud as it merged with the sea.

  I strode in. It was like entering a black fog. I paused to acclimatize to it as I searched for Rhymes’ telltale eyes. Within moments the darkness seeped into me. It invaded my mouth, my nose, and my very pores. My senses grew heavy, waterlogged, weighed down.

  Rhymes was injured, possibly dying. This was the first strike in his final effort to take me down with him. What was next, a sneak attack in the gloom? That’s what I’d have done under the circumstances.

  I shivered as I ventured further into the blackness. The shadows were so thick I could almost feel them pressing upon me, imparting an overbearing sense of cold, bleak emptiness.

  Claustrophobic panic caught me within its net. I turned away, desperate to escape before the desolation spreading inside me could crush my will, my very soul.

  I stumbled back the way I’d come, but the swirling blackness didn’t shift or break, it seemed to go on for forever. My heart raced, my limbs trembled, panic stole my focus.

  “Come to me,” Rhymes whispered, his voice close. “Come to me, I’ll put a stop to your despair.”

  I caught a glimpse of his eyes beside me and staggered away as silver flashed and shot through the gloom. His blade. The pull, the temptation to go to him and surrender, the desire to end this terrible, infinite misery was almost to much to bear. What a relief it would bring to finally let go, lie on the cold stones and let the shadowy fog roll over me like an incoming tide.

  Who would mourn?

  No one.

  Had Rhymes said that, or was it my other? Or was the thought my own?

  “No,” I shook my head. I had friends, I had people who loved me.

  No one loves you. No one would care if you vanished here and now.

  “Astrid,” I called. I thought of her, out there beyond the endless blackness and forced myself to lift the sword of intention as I fought against the leaden despair. I gave the sword everything that was left within me and its fiery light blazed, pushing back the shadows.

  I whirled as I heard movement behind me. A knife descended, the blade reflecting the fire of my sword. I side-stepped, grabbed Rhymes’s hand and pulled it back hard, snapping his wrist. He screamed and brushed past me, limping into the abyss. I followed and grabbed his shoulder before he could vanish once more.

  He screamed again and drew the whirls of inky darkness from the air, absorbing them. Fury and fear filled his eyes, then they grew dim and flickered like a lantern drifting in the depths of a murky sea.

  “Kill you!” Rhymes cried as he lunged, opening his mouth wide to take a bite of me. His perfectly white teeth were but grey shards now. I smashed my fist into them, breaking the ones that weren’t already loosened by rot.

  Rhymes fell with a groan and the last of the black fog vanished on the icy breeze. Fresh snowflakes swept in and he watched them with the wonder of a child. He was broken, almost dead. Which meant I didn’t have long.

  “Did Humble send you?” I asked, “or was it the Council?”

  “One is the other.” Rhymes stared at his withered hand as he pulled a glove off. “I’m actually dying,” he said.

  “And this world will be better for it, trust me.”

  He grinned and his eyes flashed, bringing a memory of the first time I’d seen him. Of the fear, revulsion and demonic power I’d sensed within him. The insanity… it hadn’t lessened.

  “Who sent you?” I leaned in close and stared into his eyes. They widened as he gazed back and I saw him flinch.

  “Lampton… via Humble.” He shivered and looked away. A snowflake drifted by us and landed on the side of my face. He reached for it but his hand fell limp.

  “Where’s Lampton now?”

  “In the city, I expect, preparing for the meeting.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “How would I know? We agents are always the last to be told what’s going on, are we not?”

  “Where?” I demanded.

  “Midnightside. Believe me, you don’t want to go, Rook. All sorts of bad news is gathering. An army…”

  “Tell me how to get there!”

  He shook his head. I grabbed my sword and pressed the fiery blade against his face. He howled like a injured wolf. “The location,” I shouted as he shuddered.

  “Catherine Street.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Which is its point, you won’t find it. You’re fucked, Rook. You’re all fucked, you and your beloved blinkereds.” He grinned and began to twitch, and the light in his eyes faded. By the time I raised my sword, he was already dead.

  7

  Rhymes stared lifelessly along the pebbled shoreline. Up to then I’d always made a quick phone call or relied on Dauple to come and clean up messes like this, but that was no longer an option. The Organization, was over. It seemed almost everything I'd relied on was over, or on its way to being so.

  It took a little over an hour to dispose of Rhymes and his creatures. I filched rope and netting from the shipyard, along with a rickety old row boat. After weighing the bodies down I dropped them into the sea, praying the fish would devour them before anything identifiable could wash up on the beach. The last thing I needed was
any association with another viral news story; Mysterious Sea Monsters Found On Desolate Shore!

  I took off on foot, as soon I was done, along a vacant stretch of towpath. It led back toward the city where I somehow managed to flag down a lone cab.

  As the driver pulled away, I wiped my hand over the foggy window. Snowflakes drifted in a slow flurry, dusting the parked cars in a thin white blanket. The streets were empty; it was the tail end of those odd wee hours. Too late for most of the after hours clubs and bars, but a smidge too early for those invisible workers who rise from their beds at ungodly hours and toil to keep the city ticking over.

  The cabbie dropped me off right outside my apartment. I shoved a wad of cash into his hand, covering the fare as well as a generous tip since he’d kept the chatter to a minimum. He pulled away and I slipped into the house as quietly as I could. Mrs. Fitz’s place was dark and still. I thanked every deity I could think of for the kind mercy.

  The spell I’d cast to secure the door to my apartment was down. I hoped this meant that Astrid and Samuel were back. I opened the door slowly and stepped inside.

  I spotted Samuel first, stretched out on the sofa, fast asleep. Astrid was curled up in the armchair. It looked like she’d been asleep too, but she sat up and gave me a warm smile as I walked into the room.

  I knelt beside her, and took her hand in mine. “I’m so happy to see you. Are you alright?”

  She squeezed my wrist, and her iron-grey eyes flitted over mine. “I’m better,” she whispered as she leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. It was a slow, soft yet firm gesture. I reached up and placed my hand on the side of her face and we gazed at each other, then the brief moment of abandon slid back to unspoken restraint. “What about you?” she asked, studying me closely.

  “Me? I just had a fun little frolic at the seaside with another former colleague who tried to kill me. I think it’s safe to say my ties to the Organization, as tenuous as they’d become, are well and truly severed.”

  She nodded and looked down, her brow furrowing. “You’re different, you’ve changed. Even more so, since the last time I saw you.” she paused as her eyes flitted over mine, “I like you Morgan. I like you a lot. You know that but…”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, as she let my hand go.

  “You’re still tapping into other people’s magic. Even tonight it seems. We've talked about this before.”

  “What else can I do? I don’t have my own, I’m stuck with crystals and whatever else I can get my hands on. You know that.” I tried to keep my tone in check but I could still hear my irritation. “When I’m under fire, or if you and Samuel are in danger, I’ll do whatever I have to. That’s just the way it is.”

  “Dark magic stays within you. It collects, and eventually, if you don’t stop, it will drown you. One day you’ll wake and you won’t know who you are anymore. You’ll be motivated and moved, possessed, by all those dead and broken echoes of other people’s personalities. Bad people. Besides, you already…”

  “Have one of those echoes living inside me?” I asked. “Is that what you were going to say?”

  She nodded. “And I hate him almost as much as I hate your father.”

  “Did you know Stroud was my father? Before?”

  “No. We speculated, but hoped we were wrong.” She glanced at Samuel, who still appeared to be sleeping.

  “I’ll destroy them both if I get the chance.” I held her gaze and took her hand. “Then, when I’m free, you can teach me how to use magic, and how to be whoever the hell I am. We’ll get there. Together.”

  “What if there’s nothing left of you by then, Morgan?” She looked like she was about to say more when Samuel growled and spoke.

  “Someone dropped it,” he called. “Look, a great quivering hat floating in the choppy sea of ale and abundance!” He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and peered round the room. “You survived, Mr. Rook,” he said as he leaned over, fumbled on the table for a glass of water, and took a long drink.

  “Yeah. I wandered off into the land of the dead for a bit. Then I topped that off by battling a murderous half-demon as well as his minions. It was a pretty treacherous night, even by my standards.” I took a seat beside Samuel and opened a beer as I told them what had happened.

  “In Penrythe, we call that deathly realm the Charrdims. I’ve heard that a few places still exist where the living can actually descend into it, if they so desire, but not many do,” Astrid said.

  “It seems that Stroud did,” I said. “Could that be where he acquired his powers?”

  “Some, possibly,” Astrid replied, “to add to the ones he’d already possessed. You say the priests released you?”

  “Only after I promised to deliver Stroud.”

  Astrid looked at Samuel and a slow smile crept across his face. “If anyone could kill a shade, it’s the prie-”

  “Stop talking.” Astrid nodded her head toward me.

  “Right, I forgot.” Samuel gave me an apologetic shrug.

  Of course. Emeric, my dark other. I was him, and he was me, like two peas in a poisonous pod. He’d shown me exactly where his loyalties laid when he’d taken the dagger I’d intended to slay Stroud with and thrown it into the furnace. And he was still lurking silently inside me, like a hidden spy.

  “We should leave soon,” Astrid said, “travel to Penrythe and get you fixed as soon as possible. Once that’s done, we can get to the root of the problem.”

  “I can't go to Penrythe.” I stood, crossed to the window and gazed out to the snowy night. “Not until I’ve dealt with Lampton and the Council. I can’t leave until I know the people here, both magical and blinkered, are safe.” I’d thought it over in the cab and my decision was final. “I’ve too many friends here. Abandoning them to the mercy of Lampton is…”

  “I understand,” Samuel said.

  “So do I,” Astrid added, “but we’ll have to be quick. We're already behind, Stroud’s had days to hole up and regroup, and searching for him in Penrythe will be like trying to find a bloodnatter on a fat muddy cow.”

  “I have no idea what a bloodnatter is, but I’m looking forward to finding out,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. And it was true, I was anxious to see Penrythe. To go back home.

  “Believe me, you don’t want to encounter a bloodnatter,” Samuel said, “especially not on your-”

  “Samuel!” Astrid shook her head, “No one needs to hear about that again. Once was more then enough for this lifetime, believe me.”

  “Your loss,” Samuel said, as he stacked his pipe. “So where do we start with Lampton and his merry band of miscreants? Do we hunt them down one by one and cut their treacherous throats? Or should we arrange a big party for them and off the whole lot at once?”

  “Actually,” I said, “the Council’s meeting today.”

  “Perfect,” Astrid said.

  “It will be if we can find it. Rhymes gave me the name but I never heard of the place before. I tried to look it up on the way here and to all intents and purposes, it doesn’t exist.”

  “Sounds great,” Samuel said. “I love places that don’t exist, they’re always much better than those that do.”

  “I’ll dig into this after I’ve gotten some sleep. It's too early to make any calls now anyway.”

  “Go and rest.” Astrid smiled at me and I nearly stooped down to kiss her, before I remembered Samuel.

  “Nighty night, Morgy,” Samuel said, his eyes twinkling as he lit his pipe, “sleep well my sweet prince.”

  8

  I awoke after a spell of dark restless dreams. I couldn’t remember the details and I was fairly sure that that was a good thing. I showered and dressed in the black clothes I always wore on operations. It seemed fitting, only this time my job was to take down the Organization and Council. All in all I felt oddly prepared, but one aspect was missing; weapons. Lots and lots of weapons.

  Astrid and Samuel were ready and waiting in the living room and my fingers brushed hers as I wa
lked past. “Coffee?” I asked.

  “Please. Tuna too if you have any,” Samuel said. He had a Siamese cat balanced on one knee and a bushy orange cat of an undetermined pedigree on the other. Three more were stretched out along the top of the sofa behind his head and Storm, the old grizzled warrior cat, watched me with a cool, appraising gaze from the arm of Astrid’s chair.

  I made coffee, served the cats their second breakfasts and made calls to see if anyone had heard of Midnightside, or where it was. Nothing turned up so I made another coffee as we waited for the armory to open and the city to swing into full gear.

  It was just after ten by the time we arrived outside Electric Video. Usually, at this time of the morning, the metal bars that secured the place overnight would have been rolled back, but not today.

  I glanced through the window into the gloomy shop. A sullen, heavyset woman stood at Madhav’s post behind the counter. She froze as she peered back at me.

  “We’ll need to move fast.” I reached for the door but it was locked and then the doorway blazed with a shimmering blue light. She was sealing the place shut.

  “Allow me.” Samuel placed a hand on the door and flinched as the surge of magic tried to repel him. “Oh no you don’t bitchface.” An iron-like silvery light flickered over the blue, eating it away, and then the lock gave way with a heavy thunk.

  Samuel pushed the door open and I leaped through as the woman at the counter thudded her sausage fingers into a phone. “Put it down,” I said.

  She continued to hammer the keys, then raised it to the side of her big head. Our eyes locked and her cloak shifted as she panicked, then I caught sight of the troll below. Yellow fangs, matted hair and all.