Calico (The Covenant of Shadows Book 2)

by Kade Cook

  Ethan, I figured it out, Gabrian shouts silently at him as she marches to her seat. I know why...

  Gabrian, breathe. Ethan returns her stare but shows little humour in his face. His eyes are steady and dilated more than usual, his mouth is pressed in a straight line, displaying the seriousness of his request to her. It is very important that you be present in this discussion.

  But...

  Trust me.

  Gabrian stills her silent plea and nods. She takes her seat. Her muscles tense and she clenches her burning fingers into fists, awaiting the impending doom.

  The busy humming of life within the walls of the Covenant quiets then comes to complete silence once Orroryn gives the order to resume the circle of Schaeduwe. Caspyous’s eyes dart around the table, trying to grasp the significance of this new show of secrecy then rolls his eyes and sits back in his chair, glancing in Cimmerian’s direction.

  Cimmerian feels eyes on him, but he does not flinch. He continues to stare straight ahead, sweat dewing at his temples.

  Caspyous huffs and shakes his head, folding his arms tightly across his chest. “So, is anyone here going to explain to me what this gong show is about?”

  “There have been some new developments come to light,” Vaeda begins, setting herself upright, and places her hands gently onto the table, clasping her finger together into a ball.

  “Developments?” he sneers. “Don’t tell me, the monstrosity is innocent by some technicality that she...”

  “Enough!” Orroryn calls out. He leans forward in his chair, eyes swirling in a haze of forest green. The lines creasing the muscles in his forearms deepen their shadow with the balling of his fists. “I have heard just about enough of your outbursts and your blatant show of disrespect for Vaeda, myself, not to mention all of who are in attendance. Over the past few years we have given you lenience—a freedom in what you do at this table, out of respect for your father—but it ends today. I would advise you to still yourself, cease your incessant need to disrupt and insult our measure of authority, or I will have you contained.”

  “I...” Caspyous begins but thinks better of challenging Orroryn today. The fierceness exuding from him registers with his common sense telling him to shut up and settle back in his chair, still holding on to a glare of defiance for the Elder.

  “Please continue, Vaeda,” Orroryn says, his voice no longer a detonation but calm and sedate.

  “As I was saying, there have been some new developments come to light in our inquisition about the night in question.”

  Caspyous just huffs at her, wearing a smug expression with his lips pursed and his eyes narrowed.

  Ignoring him, she continues. “Ethan has received information most of us were not privileged to only moments ago, information that changes everything. Caspyous, we would like to request you step down as Elder and as leader of your Fellowship, immediately.”

  Gabrian gasps at the request and her focus blurs as she rushes to put the pieces together, fitting everything into place.

  The breath from Caspyous’ lungs is punched out of him. His mouth gapes open as do his eyes, revealing the disbelief harbouring there. “Excuse me?” He sits up in his chair, elbows meeting the top of the table. “On what grounds would I ever agree to this?”

  Taking a deep breath, she stands to demonstrate her authority over him. “On the grounds of premeditated attempt of murder on a member of the Realm.”

  “What? You have lost your mind,” he yells at her. “You and everyone in here.” His eyes shoot toward Gabrian with icy daggers embedded in them. “What sort of mental brainwashing has this thing cast upon you now? It is the epitome of evil and has managed to fool you all.”

  “Will you or will you not step down?”

  “I will not!” Caspyous spits out at them, pounding his fist on the table, and rises to meet Vaeda’s challenge. “I will not!”

  “Then we have no other choice.” Vaeda turns to face her friend and peer, giving him the room to do as he must. “Ethan, go ahead.”

  Ethan nods and turns to look at Caspyous. He closes his eyes and slips under the futile attempts of the Hydor Elder to protect his mind. Lifting any barriers setup by Caspyous, he finds the proof, the horrid and pitiful truth of the night Gabrian was attacked and pushes the sordid mental details into the minds of all those in attendance.

  The Elder had begun to put pieces of what was happening to her together. The signs of what she could become if left to flourish with her mentors. He was not absolute in his finding, but he refused to allow the possibility to transpire. She had too many powers, too many strengths, and too many sympathizers on her side to be denied, so he would end her before the inevitable could happen. He would ensure her demise.

  Searching the local area for anyone who had a dicey past, anyone who offered less than good standing with the law, he studied them, approached them, and engaged their strength of will. If they teetered on the fence about wrong and right, he tempted them with an offer to do away with a certain thorn in his side, a youngling that was causing concern.

  Gabrian lifts her hand to cover her mouth, watching the mental horror show play out through Caspyous’ mind, and her heart sinks as the immense hatred he holds for her becomes vivid in front of everyone.

  Caspyous, having no luck convincing them to do his morbid bidding, tapped into a secret leverage he held, the edge that would push them over and do as he asked without question.

  For Gabrian is not the only Grey sitting here tonight. Caspyous, though hidden well for years from everyone, holds the gift of mind control like that of the Borrowers—strong enough to compel the weak of mind, at least for a few hours.

  Ethan continues to unveil to the group all the gory details the Hydor Elder had in mind for her demise. Everyone sucks in a breath as the explicit details of Caspyous’ envisioned execution being laid out before them plays out—the torture and wanted dismemberment and the pleasure Caspyous has gained from it all, right down to her proposed decapitation and the expected burning of her body.

  “How can you all sit here and believe this thing is worth saving? It’s an abomination,” Caspyous bellows, breaking Ethan’s visual connection of the recap. “You all know what I am talking about. The Silvers are gone, Cera is gone. We have complete ruling over our world now. Do you really want to take the chance and allow it to manifest into one of them, to let it one day take over and leave you all powerless?”

  “We don’t know that she is anything other than Grey. Ethan has searched her mind, only finding a limited mix of gifts. There is no evidence she is anything more.”

  “Unlike the rest of you, I am not willing to take that chance. I will not give up everything, all my power, to this thing. She is a Boragen, a Vapir, an abomination cloaked within camouflage of a helpless child. Do you not see it?” Caspyous leans in, balancing his weight on the tips of his fingers now pressed against the top of the table, eyes flaring almost as much as his blue aura. “That thing, that monster is using its powers to deceive—already fooling you all.”

  Gabrian bites her lip so hard she can taste the copper tang of blood on her tongue. Her hands burn, clutched tightly into balls from listening to the venom spewing out of his mouth. Disgust overwhelms her, disabling her ability to stay quiet any longer. “You are such a hypocrite!” she screams at him from across the room, standing in front of her chair. All the Elders stare but they make no efforts to silence her. “You are just like me—a mix of gifts—yet you have the audacity to look down your nose and place yourself so high on a pedestal that your gluttonous need for power has blinded you, distorting your judgement, and making you believe your malicious actions are justified and above the law. It’s not me who is the monster in this room, it is you.” Gabrian’s frantic speech ends and her lungs heave in her agitated state, having unleashed the poison from within her.

  Caspyous’s eyes, once wide and scraping for supporters, now narrow and become feral. He slowly twists his head to devote all his attention to the youngling,
mouth curling upward at the edges into an eerie sneer. “I should have dealt with you myself,” he hisses at her.

  Gabrian can feel his hatred searing at her from inside her flesh, trying to rip her apart from the inside out, as he tries to unleash his magical wrath on her soul.

  Caspyous pitches his body forward, leaping up and across the table on a direct collision course with Gabrian. His blue aura fights to break free of the binds within the Covenant and his mind rages, seeing his prey through a crimson shade of hatred for what she represents and what he intends to do. Watery shards of Magik crackle into jagged claws of ice around his clenched fists—another hidden gift of the gods—weapons ready to tear her limb from limb and wipe the Realm clean of her existence.

  With no time to think, Gabrian just reacts—fear leading her defence. Putting her hand up, she focuses her eyes on Caspyous and braces for the assault, catching hold of his incoming essence with her mind. She launches a torrent of calico sparks outward in attempt to shield herself, releasing a mind-shattering roar. “No!”

  The assault doesn’t come.

  The Elder struggles before her, his body tightly bound within the woven spell. Caspyous’ essence crackles and sparks as it fights the restraint of Gabrian`s enchantment and the violet Magik of the black-clothed arms that now hold him against his will.

  All Gabrian can do is stare open jawed as Orroryn rushes to Cimmerian’s side and relieves the sullen Elder of his strife, unsure if it was she who stopped him or the ancient wards bound within the Covenant walls to protect all within.

  Caspyous whips his head around, eyes wild and hateful. “What are you doing? You should be helping me.”

  Cimmerian holds the glare he is given. The Elder merely stares back, void of expression—demonstrating that his show of loyalty to the Covenant of Shadows is resolute. The need for this youngling far outweighs his want for revenge on the Boragen Fellowship. He has another dedicated mission and it does not allow for such an irrational show of subordination. The risk is too great.

  Taking the Hydor Elder by the arms, and firming his grip on him, Orroryn begins his mandate. “Killing innocents is not how we keep order,” he says in a calm but resonating tone. “We, the Elders of the High Table, the order of the Covenant of Shadows, find you guilty in construction of attempted murder of an innocent. You are hereby immediately stripped of your position as Elder to Hydor. You will be contained within the cells of the Shadow until a trial of your peers can be arranged. You will be held accountable and tried for your actions.”

  Caspyous wails in hysterics as the Schaeduwe Elder leads him to the Shadows and vanishes within them, taking the noise and disruptive thrashing with him.

  The decision, if made necessary, was to remove the Hydor Elder through the Veil and into the holding cell as to avoid panic amongst the people, limiting the amount of disruption within the walls of Shadows more than there already is with the Guardians.

  Gabrian draws in a deep breath. Her body slumps in her chair and she lets her head fall forward into her lap as the tension leaves her, trying to grasp what just happened. The drum in her ears quiets as her pulse slows once more. Mixed conversations of the Elders mesh together into a whirlwind of babble around her as she slips into her bubble of exhaustion.

  A warm hand on the back of her head drags her back from the momentary breakdown and returns her into the moment. “You did good, kid,” Ethan whispers to her out loud.

  Gabrian’s weary eyes find her friend, and she forces a smile, but it is an effort to nod. The space around her hums with an unusual abundance of energy as the rest of the Elders approach her. She pushes her torso upright and leans into her chair, her spine resting tight against the stone backing. More hands reach out to soothe her, touching her lightly on her shoulder and offering small speeches of condolence. She just nods, not really hearing any of it.

  Her eyes look past them in search, in hopes, of finding a face she longs to see—the rock, the sunrise of hope, the one she so cruelly threw away in an act of selfishness—desperate to hear the soft hum of his voice that always seems to drown out the chaos of this world.

  But the noise remains, and she is left to drown within it.

  57

  NEVER TOO LATE

  HAVING NOTICED GABRIAN’S withdrawal from life over the past couple of weeks, and the obvious lack of Shadow Walker presence, Ethan wonders about his partner’s wellbeing. Having watched her struggle and push forward through the complete upheaval of her entire world, he is certain her coping abilities must be straining. Recalling a statement she had made a few weeks back about feeling smothered within her own life—especially after the kidnapping where Shane insisted on watching her every move—Ethan knew it was just a matter of time before something had to give and it unfortunately landed on Shane’s doorstep. Now with the added guilt of Rachael still in a coma and the attempts by Caspyous to eliminate her, he feels the heaviness of Gabrian’s heart reaching through the walls from her office, nearly killing her inside.

  His fingers fiddle with a piece of paper, a piece of mail he had set aside, not bothering to open it. He rubs his thumb along the edge of the envelope, finally flipping it open, and reads the card. Taking in a deep breath, Ethan pushes himself up out of his chair and heads across the hall.

  A knock at the door makes Gabrian look up from the pile of files. She had been given permission to go back to work under the strict condition she avoid clients until she can assure the Elders of her control over her urges to consume life essences—just to be on the safe side—and Gabrian agrees. She does not need any more unwanted drama in her life.

  “It’s open,” she hums, recognizing the familiar energy on the other side.

  The door slips open and Ethan’s hopeful face enters the room. “So, what does your schedule look like for this weekend?” he says, still fiddling with the envelope tucked in his fingers.

  Shaking her head, she looks down at her calendar to check the dates. “It looks clear, other than a side note that says remember to pick up groceries and do laundry—pretty intense stuff.”

  “Yeah, that is pretty intense.” Ethan’s lips pull wide across his mouth, curving upward on one side in a lopsided grin.

  “What?” she scowls, leaning back, and rests her head on the back of her chair.

  “I am not sure, but I think I have a better plan. Go home and pack your clothes.”

  “Now why would I do that?”

  “Because, you are coming with me.”

  “Hmm, Okay. I will bite.” She pinches her nose and pulls her head forward, taking note of his almost giddy state. “So, where are we going?”

  Ethan saunters across her office floor and holds out the envelope to her, widening his grin as his eyes gleam in the overhead light.

  Sitting up, she leans forward in her leather chair and takes the paper from him, inspecting it, and flips it over with a raised brow then opens the envelope to appease him. Her fingers fish out the contents and within the folds of a letter are two tickets to an Instructional Wellness convention in downtown Manhattan. She purses her lips and glances up at him, her eyes narrowed. “New York?” She was not expecting to go so far. “I can’t go to New York.”

  She clings to an image of her Guardian, his face and the hurt in his eyes that she placed there. The unkind and sharp words she spoke that day have haunted her ever since Gabrian allowed their sharp edges to cut him with intention. Although the message she relayed was needed, the way it was delivered had been cold and cruel—something she knows she needs to make amends for but is still struggling with pride and a selfish need for space.

  “Sure, you can,” Ethan interrupts her silent moment of self-torture, seeing her drift somewhere dark. “It is only a two-night stay, and I think you will find it fascinating or at least distracting. I thought that maybe it might give you the space to help you sort out some things.”

  Gabrian hears her Elder, her mentor, her friend loud and clear, but the thought of leaving Shane here with things unresolv
ed bothers her.

  Trying hard not to hear her thoughts, Ethan cannot help but pick up on the doubt rattling through her brain. So, to ease her mind, he breaks the silence. “Listen, if you are worried about Shane, don’t. He is a big boy, and he is not going anywhere. Trust me on that.”

  She lowers her eyes at the sound of his name.

  Ethan lets out a sympathetic sigh and gives her an all-knowing look. “When you get to be my age, you tend to pick up on things. Body language speaks louder than words...even the ones that aren’t spoken. After all that has happened, maybe it will be good for you to go clear your head and come back with a different view.”

  She sighs at his truthful words and sets herself back into the arms of her chair.

  “So, what do you say, are you in?”

  “I’ll think about it.” Gabrian leans into her hands, ticking the tips of her fingers together as the thoughts of Manhattan’s electric energy lures in her interest, drowning out some of her pity party—not to mention drawing her attention to an appealing opportunity to drop in on Thomas to say a long overdue hello.

  “Don’t think about it, just say yes.”

  “I’ll think about it,” she growls and narrows her eyes, lips curling playfully into a frown.

  Ethan raises his hands in surrender and backs out of her office, shutting the door behind him.

  THE NEXT FEW HOURS drag on, and Gabrian feels as if she is caught in some kind of torturous time trap. She cannot concentrate on anything—all she sees is the hurt swimming in Shane’s eyes—haunting her. Letting out a loud huff, Gabrian closes the file, gets up from her desk, and starts for the door, headed for home.

  A playful voice calls out to her from the adjacent office. “Hey, Gabrian, just wanted to let you know that the plane leaves from Bangor tomorrow morning. I will be leaving here at seven AM.”

  “Ugh,” she grunts at him, hearing him chuckle behind the wall as she continues on her march to the exit. “I will think about it,” she says, snatching her coat from the wall, and tromps her way down the stairs, leaving him and his echoing laughter behind her as she slips through the door at the bottom.