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

Page 5

by Kit Hallows


  “Give it a second. And don’t be a child.” Astrid glanced at me. “Your turn.” I nodded and gritted my teeth as she applied the potion. It burnt like hellfire, but once the sting subsided, a glow of healing warmth spread through my wounds.

  “So what now?” Samuel asked, as he surveyed the devastation.

  “Now we’re going to Midnightside,” I said.

  “And what are we expecting to find there? Asides from an inevitable beating and probable death?” Samuel asked.

  “Lampton.” I took the bottle from Astrid and began to apply it to her wounds. Samuel bit back a devilish smirk but she barely flinched, putting us both to shame.

  “Right,” Samuel said. “Beatings and probable death, like I said.” He rubbed his hands together. “Lead on!”

  “Not yet. The place is called Midnightside for a reason, which means their meeting won’t take place until after dark. We’ll have to wait for nightfall.”

  “Well in that case,” Samuel said, “shall we go and have a spot of lunch, and a pint or two to soothe our spirits. And then maybe some spirits to soothe our pints.”

  “Good plan,” I said. “I need to think and catch my breath. And a drink couldn’t hurt.”

  11

  We made our way into the magical quarter and headed for the Leery Leper’s Wife. Much to my relief, there was no karaoke but there was no sign of Bastion either, or his dwarven friends and I felt somewhat saddened. I hoped he was safe, wherever he was, and that the inevitable violence of this fast approaching storm would pass him by.

  I took the seat next to Astrid as Samuel and ordered a flagon of beer. The inn was quiet but more than a few customers had gathered in its darker corners and a solemn note of anticipation tainted the air with a subtle tinge of gloom. It seemed everyone knew something bad was looming, even if they didn’t know quite what it was, and not knowing what else to do, they’d decided to drown their sorrows.

  Samuel did his best to lighten the atmosphere, regaling us with tales of his adventures in Penrythe. Most of the stories centered around scrapes he’d gotten into as he plied his shadier than shady trade and I was sure Astrid had heard the stories before, but she still laughed loud enough to turn a few heads.

  I sat back and bathed in the glow of good humor and friendship and hoped it would survive, that we’d all survive, our imminent battle with Stroud.

  Slowly, the light outside the Inn’s rickety leaded glass windows began to fade and a slender Elven barmaid came around to light the candles and lanterns on the tables. Samuel’s smile faltered as he glanced my way. “Should we head out?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded, “it’s time to find Midnightside.”

  “And how exactly are we going to do that?” Astrid asked with a playful smile. “You said you were planning on asking around for information, but it seems you’ve spent the afternoon sitting with us drinking. Or have you remembered where Midnightside is?”

  “Kind of. I mean, I know I’ve passed it a hundred times or more, but somehow never took any notice of it. At least not until I stole Osbert’s memories.”

  “It must take some serious magic to cloak a place like that from both blinkereds and the rest of us,” Samuel said. “Especially if the grounds are as large as you described.”

  “They must be using some sort of device,” Astrid said, “to reliably hide it day and night.”

  “Perfect. We just need to find it.” Samuel’s eyes lit up., “With a little well played sabotage, the whole city will be staring at their little hidey-hole.”

  “Good idea,” I said, “and it would divert their security while we look for Lampton. Humble too. And if Glass is there, we’ll have to take her down as well.”

  “Glass?” Astrid asked.

  “The Organization is run by three partners. Erland Underwood, who they’ve already tried to murder, Humble, who I know is dirty, and Glass. I’ve never met her, so I'm uncertain where she stands in all of this, but if she’s compromised, she’ll be joining the rest of them.”

  “And then Stroud,” Samuel said.

  I could see he was as eager to get to the heart of the matter as was I. “Yup, once Lampton’s dealt with, the whole house of cards should start toppling. Who knows, maybe the rest of the magical community might wake the hell up and find the inspiration to join us in the fight.” I glanced around the Inn. “They know something’s coming but they’re burying their heads in the sand, just like the blinkereds they mock.” I understood the fear and the yearning for a status quo, but I was growing tired of waging this seemingly endless battle on our own. Especially when Astrid and Samuel had next to no stake in the wellbeing of this world.

  We paid at the bar and stepped out into the icy night air. The snow had let up, but it seemed like it would start again soon enough. We trudged off, toward the blinkered side of town where I called for a cab.

  “Where you going, buddy?” the driver asked as I got into the passenger seat and Astrid and Samuel climbed into the back.

  “Not sure,” I said, as I tried to pick out some of the landmarks from Osbert’s memories.

  “You do realize,” the driver said, “I was only asking where I could take you? It wasn't an existential question or anything. As in, you ordered a cab because presumably you want to go somewhere-”

  “Just drive,” Astrid said, “you’ll be paid.”

  “Fine,” the driver replied, and muttered something under his breath. I ignored him as I scoured the fragments I’d gleaned from Osbert’s memories. The streets around the park had been empty, the area nondescript except… except for a church with a weatherbeaten bell tower. “Take us to St. Stephens.”

  “Bible bashers, ehh?” the driver asked, “Well that explains the-”

  “Look” I said. “the less you talk the better I tip.”

  “Gotcha.” He switched the radio on and when we reached our destination, we climbed out and I paid him as promised while Astrid and Samuel meandered up the steps outside the church, marveling at its stained glass windows.

  “This way,” I called as I headed down a side street.

  The surrounding houses there were occupied, but the very next road was shrouded in darkness. No streetlights, no movements aside from a prowling cat. I glanced at the cars parked outside the vacant brownstones; everything was staged, fake. Props laid out to make the eerie lifeless place seem normal.

  We walked the length of the block and turned onto to the next road, this one just as empty as the last, and I spotted the tall brick wall I’d seen in Osbert’s memories. Shards of glass glimmered along the top and the limbs of the densely packed trees behind it had been pruned back sharply to ensure nothing hung outside the boundary.

  The whole place thrummed with malevolent energy and there was no doubt it would have repelled us, turned us around if we’d wandered near it by mistake. But we were perfectly conscious of our whereabouts and intent, and that knowledge was enough to override the spell’s psychological effects. Then Samuel placed a hand on the wall and pulled it away with a yelp. “Okay, someone’s put a nasty hex on this. If it wasn’t for my defenses and all round magical prowess, every bone in my hand would have been crumbled to dust by now.”

  “Can you counteract it?” Astrid asked.

  “Indeed,” Samuel stroked his beard and studied the wall with a sideways look of deep irritation, “if I had the right tools. But they’re stowed away in my work room, which is a world away from here.”

  “We'll need to find another way to get in.” I glanced down the street as a car rolled by in the distance and seemingly vanished into the wall. “There,” I said, “the entrance.” We hurried on, sticking to the shadows.

  Two guards had been posted at the gates, and the surrounding air shimmered like a heat haze. I swept my spyglass over them. “Ghouls. Very well armed ghouls. The devices on their wrists look like some kind of panic switch and we really don’t want them setting off any alarms.” I paused as I heard the hum of another car and then a long and silver sedan with t
inted windows pulled up to the gate. As the guards approached, the driver handed them a slip of paper and waited as one of the ghouls looked it over, then the gates opened and they waved them through.

  “We need to find a vehicle that’s heading in,” I said, “come on.” We cut through the back yards of the fake houses, leaping over fence after fence until we found ourselves on the edge of the blinkered city.

  “What now?” Astrid asked.

  “We’ll hitch a ride in the next Council car that comes along,” I said, and together we formulated a ramshackle plan.

  I stood at the side of the street as a black limo purred toward me, pulled the ring Astrid had leant me from my pocket, and raised my hand. The ring glowed from the proximity to the matching jewelry Astrid and Samuel wore, sending them a signal.

  Samuel shot down the sidewalk on the mountain bike he’d borrowed from a nearby porch. He rattled off the curb, punching the air with his fist as he freewheeled into the road. The limo hit the brakes and Samuel flipped over the handlebars and rolled across the polished hood.

  The driver, a muscled goliath of a man, jumped out. His expression was more irritation than concern as he glanced at the car’s hood to check for damage and stomped to where Samuel lay.

  “Did you ever hear” Samuel inquired “about the Devonshire stoat’s fabulous treasure?”

  As he clambered to his feet. I got into the driver’s seat and unlocked the doors then Astrid slipped into the back of the car next to a dwarf with a long, straggly beard. The elderly vampire beside him who’d been reading from a tablet, lowered it with a look of growing disquiet.

  “What is this?” the dwarf demanded.

  I was about to reply when I saw Samuel clap the former driver on the back and point down the street. The driver nodded, thanked him and then bounded off like he was heading out on an exciting new quest. Samuel ran over, leaped into the passenger seat and turned to regard the occupants in the back, flashing them a smile as I locked the doors. “Evening, gentlemen.”

  “What on earth-” the vampire stopped as Astrid placed her finger over his thin lips.

  “Please hand over all electronic devices,” I said, “phones, tablets, and whatever else you’re holding.”

  “Do you have any idea who we are?” the dwarf asked, then he narrowed his eyes. “Is that you, Morgan Rook!”

  “Indeed,” Samuel said, “Now, do as he asked so my friend Astrid doesn’t start getting stabby, and in the meantime I’m going to tell you about something very, very interesting.”

  I drove toward Midnightside as Astrid secured the phones and Samuel regaled them with a story about a hermit named Ivan who was convinced the sky was made of blue butter.

  As soon as they were under his enchantment, Samuel cast an illusion spell so I resembled the original driver while Astrid cloaked herself and Samuel with invisibility. I glanced into the mirror as they vanished but was still a disconcerted when I heard their disembodied voices coming from the back of the car. The vampire and dwarf seemed none the wiser, they just gazed dopily, still enraptured by Samuel’s nonsensical story.

  I slowed as the blazing headlights flooded the gate and the two ghouls guarding it. Their emaciated faces almost glowed as one checked the license plates, and the other approached the window. I rolled it down and gave him a stony glare, just like I imagined the driver would have done. He stared at me and his brow began to furrow, as if he have might have been seeing through Samuel’s illusion. Then he tapped the back window, and I slid it down.

  “Councilor Gloat, Councilor Habshins,” the ghoul said, nodding to them, then his eyes paused at the empty space between them, like something was amiss.

  “Is this going to take much longer?” I asked loudly, “because I should probably notify Councilor Lampton if it is.”

  The ghoul shot me a withering glare and gave the roof a thump with his hand. “Move on.”

  I drove through the gates onto a stony drive. Thick green foliage flanked either side of the car, and the trees above were thin, their limbs naked and pale in the soft moonlight. The magical charge in the air was almost stupefying, and I had to keep reminding myself of where I was in order to shake its grip. For a moment I failed and as I glanced into the mirror, I had no idea who I was looking at, or where I was.

  “Morgan!”

  Someone slapped the side of my face, but I saw no hand. It was enough to jolt me back to the present, then moments later Samuel and Astrid appeared in the seat, next to the dwarf and vampire. When I glanced toward the mirror, my own familiar face looked back, bruises and all.

  “Stop for a minute,” Samuel said, as he slid down the back window and sniffed the air. “I can smell magic. Strong magic.”

  “What the hell’s going on?” the dwarf demanded. “Who are you people?”

  “Let us out at once,” the vampire hissed, his haggard face filled with outrage. “We are-”

  “Weevils,” Samuel said.

  “I beg your-”

  “Of course the garden variety ones are just as they appear. But have you ever examined them on a gloomy Wednesday night? I mean, really, really examined them? No? Well, if you want to discover their true form and purpose I suggest you try it. You’ll be astonished!” Samuel gazed into their eyes until they clouded over once more. He turned to me. “We should move fast. Before someone notices this car hasn’t arrived.”

  “Right.” I climbed out and softly closed the door. Astrid and Samuel joined me. “Where now?” I asked as I fought to remind myself of who and where I was, and what I was supposed to be doing.

  “Let’s take a little walk among the trees,” Samuel said, and looked up as a headlight shone upon the drive behind us. “Quickly.”

  12

  We pushed through the undergrowth between the thick tree trunks and stumbled through bushes and snarled roots.

  Finally, we stopped to take stock. I stretched and drew in a long cold breath. The place was still and quiet but I could almost hear the air thrumming with magic and a heavy sense of darkness surrounded us, the type I usually found around Nightkind. “Can you feel that?” I asked.

  Astrid nodded. “Evil, and lots of it.”

  “It feels like the source of the magic is emanating from over there.” Samuel pointed behind me. The mere mention of magic seemed to trigger the enchantment and within moments I was struggling to remember why we were here. And who exactly we were…

  “Morgan.” Astrid gripped my wrist. “Pull yourself together.”

  “Sure.” I took another deep breath and headed in the direction Samuel had pointed to. We walked on for a few minutes until we heard voices. Many, many voices drifting through the trees.

  “Do you think that’s the Council?” Samuel whispered.

  I shook my head. There weren’t enough members in the Council to raise that kind of din. Samuel placed a hand against a tree, closed his eyes, then raised his finger and pointed east. “That way.” He led us through the undergrowth, slowly, methodically, as the low, hum of voices grew louder and louder.

  An odd light shone; a glimmering purple glow that lit up the leaves and the very air itself. I parted the heavy pine branches and came to a halt.

  A monolithic shard of crystal had been erected in the clearing ahead. It was a deep, magisterial purple and bright vibrant light pulsed through its core. Copper tubes surrounded it, jutting out from the sides of the stone and snaking across the clearing before plunging down and vanishing into the earth. Every few seconds the light within the crystal flickered and a heavy thrum followed. Moments later the copper tubes pulsed with light, as they directed the power that was cloaking everything within the walls of Midnightside.

  Astrid brushed her fingers over my hand and nodded beyond the crystal, to a squat stone building, its door ajar, candlelight flickering in its windows. A guard post?

  “What kind of crystal is that?” Samuel whispered, “It look like an amethyst, but it’s something else entirely.”

  “I have no idea,” I said.
“I’ve never seen anything like it before.” I turned to Samuel. “You mentioned hacking into this magic so it might act as a beacon rather than shield. Can you do that?”

  “I think so,” Samuel said, “But if it doesn’t work, we could probably just sever those conduits and sabotage the whole set up.” He fell silent as a cheer came from the woods, followed by loud braying, mocking laughter.

  “Yeah. That doesn’t sound worrying at all,” Samuel said as he shot me a concerned look, “maybe we should at least find out where it’s coming from?”

  “I’m on it,” I said, “stay here and do your best to unmask this place. Astrid, can you cover Samuel and keep an eye on the guardhouse?” I nodded to the building.

  “Sure,” she said.

  “I’ll be back. Good luck.” I turned and headed back into the brush and made my way through the trees, thorns and winter berries. The din of voices grew louder and louder, and soon an orange glow of firelight flickered amid the silhouettes of the trees. I slowed as I parted heavy branches and looked down onto the large hollow below.

  The glen was lined with huge marquee tents, the kind people usually used for weddings and summer fairs, but they were using these to shelter what had to be at least a hundred or more Nightkind. Demons, vampires, trolls, mages, ghouls and Wendingos gathered in the makeshift camp and as I looked closer I spotted more than a few familiar faces, all of them criminals I’d put away in Stardim years ago. That meant a life sentence, so how the hell had they gotten out? One, a pinch-faced demon named Scattle, had been convicted after the cold blooded slaughter of a blinkered family, but there he was, sitting on a log beside a troll, chewing on a greasy bone.

  How…

  … Lampton. It had to be. Either him or his toadies in the Council.

  My head swam at the scale of the swarm of monsters before me. It was a small army, one we had no hope of defeating. Not the three of us. What were they doing here? What was their purpose?

  I was about to head back toward the crystal when a low rumble shook the ground. The clamor of voices fell silent as each of the creatures looked up, heads cocked, eyes squinting.

 

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