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

by Kit Hallows

  People shot long glances our way as we crossed through town. No doubt word of our arrival had spread far and wide. Strangers, outsiders. I guessed I was both those things and more.

  “Well, wonders never cease." A voice boomed from the wall as Samuel approached. The guard who’d harassed us the night before was back on duty. He gave me a slow, haughty look as he opened the gate and I was pretty sure I heard him mutter good riddance as it slammed behind us. The snowy wastes stretched before us with the forest far in the distance, and a range of white-capped mountains to the west.

  “Are we walking?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Samuel said as he strode down the stony track, and away from Skyrehaven. “But hopefully not for long.”

  The icy wind bit my cheeks and occasional birdsong broke the quiet along with the crisp patter of rabbits flitting across the snow and diving into their burrows. It was strange to feel each footstep plant itself on this land I’d heard so much about. It was eerily natural, like I was back where I belonged. I glanced at a stony hamlet nestled among the distant billowy fields and wondered what it might be like to live there, should I decide to stay in this world.

  A moment later my thoughts were broken by a deep clatter and trundling that came from behind and a carriage, pulled by two black horses, rolled to a stop. The man sitting atop the coach nodded.

  “Here,” Samuel reached up and dropped a couple of coins into his hand.

  “Three to Thursby,” the man said, his voice muffled by his scarf.

  “Couldn’t we have boarded in Skyrehaven?” I asked, as Astrid climbed up and vanished within.

  “Sure, but only if we wanted everyone in town to know where we were going.” Samuel said as I pulled myself up and stepped through the door.

  The compartment was gloomy and cramped, and I squeezed in next to Astrid on one of two padded benches. The fat man next to her gave me a look of barely concealed irritation as he scooted closer to the window, checked his pocket watch, and then slipped it back into a slit on his fine silken waistcoat. On the forward facing bench, five women stared back at us. All wore black and their eyes were tired and red, and I had the impression they were either going to, or coming from, a funeral.

  “Well this is cozy,” Samuel said, as he nudged up to me and snapped the door shut. “Fine morning ladies, no pun intended” he said to the women. Only one met his eye, and then she gazed back to the clenched gloves in her lap.

  “Fuggazola,” the man spluttered, then his head bobbed forward and his fleshy chins pressed against his chest. The cramped space rattled with the sound of deep throaty snoring and the carriage shook as it trundled along the road. The driver seemed to hit every rut and hole in the path and each jarring bump buckled the bench and shot straight up my spine.

  I gazed out the window in an attempt to distract myself. Snowy fields and wooded copses drew by like shots from a scenic calendar and I spotted ruins and broken arches, harkening back to the stories Samuel had told me about the banished gateways that once joined this world with the others.

  We passed fields, farms and at one stage, an enormous bonfire. Raging red flames trailed up into the sky like tendrils, and as I was about to glance away I saw a tiny dark figure…a child standing beside the inferno. He seemed to be wearing black glasses, but before I could take a closer look, a plume of thick grey smoke erupted, masking the scene from view.

  My stomach dropped. It seemed, without doubt, that Sindaub had returned, or at least a part of him had. So I was being haunted by a demon; just what I needed on top of everything else. I’ll slay De’ Nix, I promise. As soon as we’ve finished with Stroud, I whispered, not expecting he was there listening to my plea but feeling better for saying it nonetheless. Then I settled back in the lumpy seat and closed my eyes.

  I was jolted out of my slumber as the carriage shuddered to a halt. The women in black had already departed, Samuel was sprawled out along the entire length of their bench, and Astrid was curled up in the corner that the snoring man had occupied. The horses gave a loud aggravated whinny and Astrid's eyes opened just as Samuel’s did.

  Brusque muffled voices came from outside. They were loud, male and authoritative. A heavy thump came from the ceiling and the driver called, “Everybody out. Please.” His voice was tinged with a note of urgency.

  I glanced through the windows to find the carriage hemmed in by heavy woods on either side. Snow glistened along the boughs, stark against the darkly churning clouds. The gaps between the trees was as shadowy as night, a potential escape route if the shit hit the fan, and by the sound of it, it was about to.

  “Let us do the talking,” Samuel said, as he sprang to his feet and leaped out the door. I passed down his bow and followed him.

  Seven soldiers with battered wolf-head helmets lined up along the side of the road, while two others with crossbows took positions at the front of the carriage. Deep blue cloaks clung to their frosted armor and the scene drew me back to the memory of when Tom had brought me to the blinkered world.

  My attention turned to the man on a horse behind them. He had the hard look of someone used to getting his way. His brown hair stirred in the breeze and as his keen blue eyes assessed me, his mouth set into a snarl. If someone had told me he beat women and children on a regular basis, I wouldn’t have been even mildly surprised. His gaze grew darker as he looked from Samuel to Astrid.

  “Is something wrong?” Samuel asked, as he flashed the usual disarming smile he used on strangers.

  “Not on the surface,” the man said, his voice well spoken, “but I’m sure we’ll find something if we look hard enough.” He nodded to the guards. “Search them.”

  Astrid stepped back as the guards approached her. “Why? What have we done?”

  “We inspect all carriages and riders on the road. I am a knight of the realm and you will obey, or perhaps you’re an exception to the rule of law?”

  Astrid held her tongue and the man turned his attention to me. “And you are?”

  “Morgan,” I said, “of Skyrehaven.”

  “Are you indeed? Maybe you could explain your peculiar appearance,” his eyes flitted over my hair, “and accent? I’ve never heard a man speak like that in Skyrehaven. Or anywhere else in Penrythe for that matter.”

  “Listen” Samuel said, “we really need to be on our way. But before we go, I should tell you a most important secret. A secret the king would pay handsomely for.” He moved closer to the knight as if they were old friends. “Did you know there’s a crow who lives on the side of a-” Samuel’s words tailed off and his smile faded as the man stared down at him with a sardonic smile.

  “That was a most mediocre attempt at bewilderment,” the knight said, “and you chose the wrong man to try it on.” He drew a long steel sword from his scabbard and turned to the soldiers. “Arrest them. And if they make trouble, cut them down.”

  33

  “Excuse me,” Samuel called to the soldiers, as they advanced, “while I…”

  He ran, loping through the snow as he headed for the trees. The soldiers surrounding Astrid and I paused to watch, and a moment later their bewilderment turned to fury. The three with the crossbows took aim at Samuel’s fleeing silhouette.

  I glanced at Astrid and she shook her head, before nodding to the trees behind us.

  Thwack

  The first bowman fired. The bolt shot toward Samuel, narrowly missing him, the second went wide, while the third sank into the tree beside him. He turned, lifted a finger, and flitted through the brush.

  “Get after him!” the knight cried, before turning to us, “and-” An arrow sailed out from the trees and clanked into his armor. Two more followed, one striking a soldier in the back of his hand as he raised his crossbow. He cried out and blood pulsed from the wound. As he lifted his head to roar with pain, another arrow found the join in his armor below his throat and he fell dead while the soldiers behind him scrambled to reload.

  “Go!” the knight commanded. Two more soldiers joined the
archers and together they ran toward the tree line, forcing Samuel to flee. The knight jumped from his horse, calling a soldier to his side as he stalked toward Astrid and directed two others to come for me.

  I grabbed a crystal and unsheathed my sword. The first one swung his blade and it smashed into the sword of intention with such force I almost dropped it. I staggered back and raised my steel against his next attack. He struck, sending an agonizing jolt of pain through the pommel to my wrist.

  The other soldier charged, his sword high overhead. He brought it down hard and fast, almost cleaving me in two as I sidestepped.

  They were trained, armored soldiers. Not my usual foes. I scuttled backward toward the trees as they stalked after me and glanced over to find Astrid fleeing into the forest as the knight and soldier pursued. I wanted to run to her but my assailants bore down fast, forcing me to defend another round of attacks.

  I used the crystal’s magic to bolster the sword of intention as I raised it and took a swing. The first blow laid opened a gash in the nearest soldier’s armor. His eyes widened in the slits above his metallic wolf-like snout as I struck again, drawing a few trickles of blood.

  The other tried to stab me from the side. I parried his attack and punched him in the groin. Chainmail bit into my knuckles and I gasped in pain, but not as violently as he did. As he doubled over, winded, I drove the sword through a join in his armor. Blood sprayed from his side and he fell to the snow.

  “You fucking maggot!” the other soldier cried as he looked from his fallen comrade to me. I gripped my pommel with both hands as he began to swing his sword. I parried but still he forced me back.

  I focused, drawing on the energy within me, both light and dark. The wicked, evil magic I’d taken slowly stirred and rose to the call of violence. Hatred, fear, and anger filled me and I used it to spur myself on.

  The soldier’s sword struck my side and my coat flashed as its magic deflected the keen blade but the force of the blow sent me tumbling into the snow. I rolled over and his sword clanged against a rock, sending sparks across the ground. I grabbed the rock and threw. He barely faltered it as it rattled off his chest plate.

  As he raised his sword for another attack, I grasped a handful of snow and threw it at the dog-like snout obscuring his face, before rolling aside. His sword crashed to the ground and as he reached to clear it away, I found the unarmored joint at his waist was exposed. Using everything I had within me, I drove my sword up. Blood poured from the wound and he stumbled, toppling onto his back.

  I jumped to my feet, scouring for signs of Astrid and Samuel. They were gone but frantic shouts and calls echoed through the forest. I looked to where I’d last seen Astrid, and ran, following the light trailing footprints that were almost lost among the marks left by the horse and solider.

  The crystalline forest sparkled and gleamed as I dashed among the trees and followed the tracks as they led through the brush and down a steep bank. I grabbed at trunks and branches to steady and slow my descent.

  Ahead was a wide stream, its water loud as it gurgled and churned through the woods. The trees and bank were thick with snow and crimson spatters of blood, and the trail of Astrid’s footprints ended by the water, just as I assumed she’d intended.

  Which way? I reached for the necklace Hellwyn had given me, which was paired with Astrid’s necklace and the ring Samuel wore, and… it was gone.

  How? I searched my clothes, hoping it would fall out, but it didn’t.

  A dim, hazy, recollection from the night before came back to me. Had I really taken the necklace off and tossed it under my bed at The Dewdrop Inn? Had I been half asleep, confused? No. I’d been compelled. But by who? Sindaub? My other? Whatever had happened, the charm that linked us was gone, and I only had my senses to guide me. I glanced frantically through the water for traces, but the current was too swift and anything obvious had long since washed away.

  I prepared to cast a spell of passing, to help me see where she’d gone, but at that moment a scream echoed through the trees, shattering my focus. “Astrid!” My voice was hoarse as it pinged through the frosty trees. The cry seemed to have come from downstream… maybe. I shook my head as I plunged on, my sword gripped tight.

  The river was clearer and brighter than any I’d ever seen, and it almost hurt my eyes to look through its glittering water as I searched the pebbly bed for prints. Here and there I noted possible traces, and a horse had definitely passed by, although how recently I had no idea. The brush along the banks grew thicker the further I went, and soon the only sound was my shoes splashing in the shallows. Then I froze as I heard branches strain and crack.

  “Astrid?” I clambered from the stream onto the thick snowy bank and ran through the trees, searching for the source of the noise. It came again from further ahead, louder and more prolific, like a herd of deer charging through the woods. I ran toward the din, hoping it was Astrid or her pursuers, despite the absence of clashing shouts or cries.

  Then I saw them, a band of figures shuffling along the snowy drifts, their clothes drab; no shining flash of armor, no shadowy black from Astrid’s cloak… it wasn’t them. I drew closer, anxious to call out and ask if they’d seen anything, when I froze.

  It was the restless… a band of twenty or more. Some were soldiers in rusted chainmail, and there were men and women in ragged spoiled finery, but most looked like commoners with worn strips of clothes barely covering their grey, pustulant limbs. They shuffled along a track, their dead eyes fixed upon whatever had gotten their attention.

  I was about to head back upstream when something moved at the edge of my vision and I spun around as a huge, lumbering man with half his face missing reached out and grabbed me.

  34

  I shoved the snarling zombie away as his meaty, rotten hand reached for my neck. He lurched, forcing me back onto the icy bank and I tumbled into the snow. Before I could recover, the momentum took me sliding backward down the slope and my head struck a tree on the way into the snowy dale below.

  My head throbbed as I forced myself to my feet, swaying like I’d just come off a fairground ride. The restless man trudged through the snow toward me and others appeared on the ridge behind him, their dead-blue eyes fixed on me. The horde snarled as they lurched down the slope with one intent; consume.

  I backed into the trees, rubbing my aching head and doing my damnedest to quell my rising panic. A crow cawed above me, as if marking my position, and maybe it was.

  The pack moaned and growled as they slipped and stumbled down the hill. Some slid and struck trees, but it did little to hinder or dissuade them from their aim.

  I trampled through the brush and hobbled over piles of logs. The thicket grew dense, slowing my progress, and my limbs began to ache even more as the temperature dropped amid the shadows.

  I cried out as my foot plunged through a hole hidden by the snow, almost taking me down. Grabbing a sapling to steady myself, I spotted a squat grey structure, a small house, its roof frosty and green with moss, its windows lifeless grey squares. I headed straight for it. I needed shelter and the narrow doorway would slow the restless’s approach. I’d stand a better chance if I could cut them down one by one.

  It was either that or continue running, and my stamina was shot.

  I grabbed a crystal and used it to kick-start the dark magic swirling through my system. It jittered and blazed, giving me the push I needed to reach the building, but as I neared it, I slowed.

  Something stirred within the darkness behind the windows, and a chilly premonition told me that whatever it was, it wasn’t human. The splintered door creaked open on its hinges and a tall, hunched creature in a tattered red cloak emerged.

  The demon’s long head was filled with needly teeth and his grim narrow eyes were as white as the snow. They flashed as they looked me over then he screeched out a high keening, deadly enchantment. He tensed and loped toward me, his limbs creaking like the taut ropes of a windswept galleon and it took all I had to raise my
sword. Branches snapped behind me. I glanced back. The restless had almost reached the yard. My other stirred, lending me the will to hold my sword up as the demon swept my way.

  You cannot win this battle. Not alone. We have to work together. Let me help you fight.

  His voice was so reasonable I found myself considering his proposal, and giving him control for as long as it took to destroy our enemies. Then a figure emerged from the trees, a man in leather armor. His wild hair and bushy beard shone darkly in the halo of a flaming torch as he drew it back and took a swipe at the demon, sending it gliding away.

  “Move!” he cried, and before I could react he grasped my wrist and dragged me toward him. I wrenched myself free and together we ran toward a wooded hill. Hidden among the bracken near the sheltered mossy rise was a gloomy oval cavity obscured by twigs, roots and brush.

  I glanced back to see the demon on our tail, and behind him the growling, moaning restless. “Where are we going?” I called, my chest tight, my words belabored.

  “Away from them. Where do you think?” The man’s voice was gruff and impatient as he shoved the bracken and twigs aside, stooped and ran into the cave. I followed and we scurried through a low tunnel until he stopped. “Stay there!” He reached up to the earthen roof, and I spotted a sword handle buried in the dirt. As the man pulled it free, the tunnel entrance roared and a heavy fall of dirt cascaded from above, sealing us in.

  “This way.” The man hurried into the darkness, his torch throwing eerie shadows off the earthen walls. The place felt like a burrow with its winding side passages filled with thick, cloying murk. I wondered where the hell we were going, and what my rescuer’s motives were, and kept my sword to hand as we plunged on.

  Finally we turned into a tight passage and daylight gleamed at its end. We sprinted on and emerged into a clearing with a small, sparkling pond and a smoldering fire burning with a black iron pan suspended above it. My stomach rumbled at the scent of roasting meat mixed with the wood smoke.