Where Shadows Dance (Ghosts & Shadows Book 2)

by Vered Ehsani

  “Maybe he was hungry too,” I muttered around my mouthful and then hastily continued before Shanti could say or do anything; after all, she was still holding a knife that looked like something from a blood-and-guts horror movie. “He’s a reflection. The way I understand it, it’s like part of someone’s energy got split away and that splinter formed a mirror image.”

  “That someone being…?”

  I swallowed the mush in my mouth. “Kali. He’s this evil dude who’s trapped in the past. The guy is a really nasty piece of work. He can make shadows do weird things, like come alive and all. If you thought the guy you met was bad, well, trust me, you don’t want to meet the original. He’s way scarier. Where are we?”

  She was watching me intently, weighing up what I had said. After a moment, she must have decided I wasn’t pulling her leg. “In Bibi’s cottage.”

  That got my attention. As far as I could tell, no one knew where Bibi lived. She just appeared without announcement to visit us and disappeared with equal lack of warning. “You know where she lives?”

  “Yup,” Shanti responded, looking way too smug. “And don’t ask how. I have my ways, and I’m not saying.”

  I grunted and kept eating. She sure did have her ways, most of them were irritating. But I did owe her big time. And she would never let me forget it either. “Is she here?”

  “No.” There was a hesitation there. I glanced up. “Actually, I didn’t really know where she lived. She led me here. At least, I think it was her.”

  When Shanti stopped talking, I softly asked, “What do you mean, you think it was her? And where is she then?”

  “I don’t know!” Shanti exclaimed with a touch of hysteria. That got me worried. Shanti isn’t the hysterical type. Nothing makes her lose her cool, except spiders.

  “Well, you were following her, right?”

  “Yeah. Well, sort of. Not really.”

  My eyebrows rose. And I thought I sounded nuts at times. “So… which is it?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I kind of heard her voice. It was really faint, like she was whispering from far away. So I followed it and it led me to this condemned building.”

  “Ah… what? Where?”

  “This place”—she waved her hands around us—“is abandoned. There’s a sign outside saying that the building’s been condemned and slated for demolition.”

  I stopped chewing for a second. “Demolition?” I spluttered through a mouthful of disintegrating bread and peanut butter.

  “I wouldn’t worry. The bulldozers aren’t exactly sitting out there, revving their engines,” Shanti continued, dismissing that issue like it was totally not a problem that we were sitting inside a house considered unfit for human habitation. “So I was following her voice. But then… well, she just kind of faded. We, that is, I got close to the door and she whispered something about the key being under the door mat, and then her voice was just gone.”

  She leaned closer to me and continued softly. “It looks like no one’s been here for a while. There’s mould growing on a plate in the sink. Plus the electricity doesn’t work, so the stuff in the fridge… Well, you don’t want to open that door.”

  I frowned as I gulped down some water. I had so many questions, and for some reason, I didn’t feel like I had a lot of time.

  “How was I able to hear her?” Shanti asked, her voice quivering a bit.

  “Just add that to the list of questions. How did you escape?”

  Shanti breathed out, and smiled weakly. “Well, that’s a long story and I’ll tell you all about it later. But the abbreviated version: that guy may be creepy and he made a total mess downstairs, but he’s not too strong or clever. I kicked him, and he went down. I ran. I gotta say though, Ash,” and she pursed her lips and gave me a look that reminded me a bit too much of Mom. “When the book closed and I lost sight of you, that worried me more than the mess. I was wondering what the heck I was supposed to tell Mom when she got home. ‘Ah, gee, Mom, the last time I saw your son, it looked like a book ate him up!’”

  “Wow,” I said. “So glad you were worried about me.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t,” Shanti responded breezily.

  I knew better: she kept looking at me like she was afraid I might disappear again.

  “Now it’s your turn,” Shanti ordered. “And don’t leave anything out.”

  So I didn’t. I had blown so many rules so far, I might as well just tell her everything. Well, almost everything. She’d already figured out a lot of it anyways. I began from the moment Bibi had given me the book. I gave her a quick run-down on my first experience in which I had helped Sara escape from Kali. He was after her because at some point in her life, she would find the Book of History and pass it down the family, which is how I ended up with it. I described Juna and her dilemma. Shanti’s eyes got bigger and her mouth hung open as I described the Boston Tea Party and the dinosaurs. She interrupted a few times with questions, but kept remarkably quiet for a normally talkative sister. When all the explanations had been given and questions answered, there was silence in the kitchen. She was staring at me like I had suddenly grown a couple feet taller, but she believed me.

  I cleared my throat and asked, “So how long have you been able to see the shadows?”

  She shivered. “I started seeing them when we were cleaning up the attic and I found this in that box.” She pulled something out of a pocket.

  At first, I thought it was a cigar. Yeah, what would my thirteen-year-old sister be doing with a cigar, right? You don’t know my sister. I frowned and reached for the cylindrical object. Only when I held it did I realise it was made of parchment, similar to the pages of my book. Something about it tickled at a memory.

  “Open it,” Shanti urged. “It’s got this really cool design on it. I think it’s a map.”

  “Map?” Ok, now the bells were ringing loud and clear. Kali had been looking for a map. Is that what had been in the envelope that Mr. Woods was going to give to that Aruhi person? Was this it? I know Bibi had stolen the Book of History from Kali at some point. Had she also stolen this from him sometime between back then and now? After wiping excess peanut butter onto my pants, I took the map and held it carefully.

  The parchment was old, yellow and crinkly. It definitely reminded me of my book. I gently opened up the scroll and stared at the diagram. It was sketched out roughly with a thick pencil that smudged slightly when I rubbed at one of the lines. It looked sort of like an egg-shaped island, with rippling lines echoing away from it, as if to depict waves in the water. There were little stick drawings, some of which clearly looked like trees, all along the edge of the shore of the island, while in the centre it was clear. Along the borders of the map were various decorative squiggles and moons at various stages of the lunar cycle. Along the top was the map’s title written in calligraphy: “Crossings, 25 December 1860”.

  “Christmas Day,” I whispered.

  What had Kali said? The shadows would dance after the twelfth stroke of midnight marking the start of Christmas Day. So what had all those shadows been doing in our house way before the winter holidays? Obviously not dancing. I tugged at a lock of hair and realized I had made a faulty assumption. Maybe Kali had meant no shadows in his time until after that date, and obviously we were way past 1860.

  I tapped the title. “Christmas 1860.”

  “Yeah, duh,” Shanti said in the snarkiest little sister voice she could muster (and that’s a lot of snark). “You can read. But where’s ‘Crossings’? And what’s with 1860?”

  “The date is a few months before the Civil War,” I explained quietly and then paused, momentarily impressed with myself. I had actually remembered some obscure fact from a history class. So I hadn’t slept through all of them. Oh, wait: I’d looked the date up on the Internet, which meant I had slept through all of my history classes.

  I shrugged and continued. “Kali just loves a good battle. But I don’t know where this is.” I tapped the surface of the map. Was this th
e same map Kali had stolen from Mr. Woods? It looked like it could be. It kind of made sense, in a twisted sort of way. Kali had told me once that time doesn’t operate in a linear way, so the map that Kali had back then could’ve found its way into my attic.

  My head hurt.

  But at least I had the answer to one question. “Hey, Shanti, you were holding the map when you saw the shadows and when you heard Bibi, right? I think it works in a similar way to my book. It gives the owner access to seeing and hearing other realities and dimensions.”

  “Cool,” Shanti said, perking up a bit.

  I took out the book and flipped through, but all the pages were closed, the paintings all dull and old looking. There was no indication of where Juna could’ve landed. There was no clue about Bibi’s whereabouts. There was nothing, except the map.

  “Well, that’s not going to lead anywhere,” I huffed, slapping the book closed. “For once, I’d like to choose when these pages let me in and where to.”

  We sat in silence. The quiet gloom of the house settled on us like the dust that covered all the surfaces.

  “Do you think it’s safe to go home?” Shanti whispered.

  I glanced over at her and shook my head. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”

  She snorted. “Oh, please, you didn’t do anything.”

  “Well, I ignored Bibi’s warning.”

  Shanti shrugged that off. “Well, yeah, if I had a cool book that opened up to the past, I would’ve too.”

  “And then we’d still be sitting in a condemned old house, unable to go home, with nothing to eat but peanut butter sandwiches,” I muttered.

  “Good thing you love peanut butter sandwiches.”

  “Yeah, lucky me.” I tapped out a tune with my fingers against the tabletop, wondering what to do next. Then, without really thinking about it, I announced, “I need to find Juna.”

  One of Shanti’s eyebrows rose and her nose twitched. “Why? I thought you said she’s kinda annoying.”

  “I…” I paused. Why did I have to? And then, feeling an unusual confidence, I stated, “I have to. I just know that’s the right thing to do. It’s what I need to do.”

  At that moment, something happened that I’d only experienced once before, something I hadn’t told Shanti about. Just like when I had promised Sara, my ancestor, that I would help her, the same energy swept around me again. The air in the room grew brighter, as if sunlight was pouring in from above, and I could see the very molecules as glowing balls pulsating all around me, feeding energy and joy into me, leaving no room for doubt or questions. I breathed it in with my lungs, my heart, my very essence. I knew I would need every bit of help I could get.

  “Ah… earth to Ash.”

  I snapped out of whatever that was. I could still see the air around my quivering with light and energy. It slowly faded as I began to talk. “I think she’s somehow connected to this… whatever is going to happen on Christmas Day.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Because during my first adventure,” I explained, “whenever I went through, I always landed near or with Sara, and it kept happening until she and her family were safe. And now, this time, it’s the same thing, except with Juna.”

  “And you said Sara came from England?” Shanti asked. “That’s weird. I didn’t know we had any family from there. I thought they were all from India.”

  I stared at her like she had just smeared the remaining peanut butter all over her face. “Yeah, we have one ancestor from England. And that is so not relevant. The point is…”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Shanti interrupted, rolling her eyes. “In that case, it sounds like this book isn’t really a portal then. It’s a connector.”

  My eyes must have glazed over with an ‘I have no idea what you just said’ expression, because she shook her head and continued in an overly slow voice. “You kept returning to wherever Sara was because you were connected to her. You were supposed to help her and by doing so, protect the book that she would eventually find. Now you’re connected to Juna and it must be for a similar reason. Although she’s not involved in finding or using this book, so I don’t get why you should have to bother, but there you go.”

  “And Sunday? How’d she fit into this?” I quickly explained about the runaway slave.

  “Well, my guess, and it’s only a guess of course,” Shanti said in a barely disguised attempt at humility, “Juna was with her and involved her in this connection for a time.”

  “Interesting theory,” I admitted. It did explain a number of questions I had had. Even the shared dreams could be part of this connection, which I sincerely hoped was not permanent. Talk about an invasion of privacy. “But why her?”

  Shanti shrugged. “Yes, that is a bit of a mystery. But if the trend is true to my theory, and I bet it is, you’d better find this girl. Although you made it sound like the book isn’t opening up anywhere.”

  “Yeah, the pictures are all closed.” I sighed and reluctantly turned to the back cover, to the message. It was still fresh looking, as if it had just been written. Before, I had just touched my finger to it. What would happen if I kept my hand on it? I shuddered as Shanti peered over.

  “That’s weird,” she murmured.

  “You have no idea.” I told her how the message had appeared and what had happened when I had briefly touched the ink before.

  “Yeah, ok, that’s also weird,” she stated, “but that’s not what I meant. Compare the writing styles.” She slid the map over and pointed to the title.

  “They’re the same,” I concluded, my mind already jumping ahead to my only option for finding Juna. “But that still doesn’t tell us who wrote the message. And it doesn’t change anything. I’m going to try to go in through this.” I waved my hand over the fresh red ink. I could feel a slight pull.

  Shanti’s eyebrows wiggled up and then down into a frown. “Didn’t you just finish telling me that the last time you touched the message, you got real close to that evil dude, the one you said was worse than the guy who trashed our house?”

  “Yup.”

  “Is this a good idea?”

  “Nope.”

  “And assuming you don’t end up in Kali’s living room, how’d you know you’ll be where and when Juna is?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Wow, this is sounding like a great plan.”

  I glared at her. “Sarcasm isn’t helpful right now. And yeah, it’s not a great plan. But it’s the only one I’ve got.”

  “Hmmm.” Shanti looked unimpressed. “Fine. So what do I do in the meantime?”

  “Wait here.”

  “In the condemned building.”

  “Yes. Wait here. In the condemned building. I’ll be back. Hopefully.” I didn’t wait for a response but slapped my hand onto the message. The letters swirled like a small red whirlpool that expanded and engulfed me. Before I could scream or pull my hand off the page, Bibi’s kitchen disappeared.

  Chapter 8

  When the red, swirling ink faded away, I was floating above a moonlit winter scene. Thick snow carpeted every horizontal surface and coated the treetops of a nearby forest. Icy bits sparkled under the full moon. Below me was a regal-looking house, made of roughly hewn stone and timbers of thick wood. Nearby, there was a smaller stone house and beyond that a stable. There was no other sign of habitation in the area. Not knowing where else to go, I glided down and into the main house.

  I decided to stay in invisible-ghost mode. I figured it would be easier that way, in case anyone was up and about. I glided through the dark, quiet house, barely noticing when I slipped through a wall.

  “Juna,” I whispered, and then muttered, “You don’t have to whisper, you know. No one can hear you.”

  Still, I couldn’t make myself raise my voice. Strange shapes lurked out of dark corners and the furniture looked unnaturally large. Apart from a smattering of moonlight, there was no other light and everything looked like it was planning to pounce on me an
y second. I shifted into the next room. A decorated fir tree dominated the space. And it was a real tree, as opposed to the ‘Made in China’ plastic trees; I could see a smattering of fir needles on the ground. Under the branches, scattered around the trunk, were several wrapped-up boxes of various shapes and sizes. I shivered. It must be around Christmas, and I had a nasty suspicion it was Christmas Eve. In fact, I’d bet a week’s worth of peanut butter sandwiches that I had arrived on the very night that Kali was supposed to make shadows dance or something like that.

  Great timing.

  I glanced through an outsized window, automatically searching, studying the shadows, but there wasn’t any movement outside. The thick, smothering snow that blanketed the landscape was unmarked and glowed with moonlight. The only living things out there were the skeletal trees that looked like silver statues, their shadows flat and still on the ground. It was peaceful, like a Christmas postcard.

  I knew that illusion wouldn’t last.

  I continued my search. I wasn’t even sure Juna was there, but if she was anywhere, well, it would have to be here. Or so I hoped. Otherwise, I had no idea why I’d landed in this place.

  A Grandfather clock stood at attention in a corner of the room, its hands ticking away my limited time, each second clanging loudly in the silence. There were only several minutes left before midnight, before all those frozen shadows would stretch into life and start looking for me. They would flow along the ground, spread across the walls, drift over the ceilings, their flat, twisted tentacles fluttering ahead until they found me. And then they would peel themselves off the horizontal surfaces and almost lazily coil through the air, wrap themselves around me and…

  I shook my head fiercely, my hair flopping about like a black mop. I had stopped moving, but my heart was going faster then ever. At least, I think it was. I forced myself to take a slow breath and move. There was no one downstairs, so I glided up through the ceiling to the second floor and almost floated through a little girl standing in the middle of the hallway. In one tiny, chubby hand, she was gripping a small blanket or towel; in the other, she dragged behind her a teddy bear that was almost as big as she was. She was immersed in a moonbeam that flowed through the window and through me. And she was peering up at me.