The Other Side (Thomas Skinner Book 1)

by S. I. Anderson

  “Oh god, you’re shadowed.” She began to sob again, suddenly stricken by further grief. “I should h-have said that f-first. Now he’ll know everything. He’ll figure out what I did.” She paused. “But I guess it doesn’t matter because we’re all going to die soon.” She became quiet as she finished, the sobbing suddenly calmed, as if consoled by the thought of imminent death.

  Tom was reminded of the first time he met her. She had asked odd questions, had scolded him, had even poked him. He’d wondered if she was crazy then and he wondered the same now.

  “The shadowing curse has been removed,” Kayvan reassured her. “How many are here?” he asked. “Greyblood did not come alone?”

  That wouldn’t have been Tom’s first question. But Saafir’s brother seemed to have understood enough of what she had said to not ask if she was feeling OK mentally.

  “I don’t know. Lord Dragunov wants Thomas dead,” she said. “Lots?” she shrugged.

  “And he is the heir?”

  She nodded. “Lord Dragunov was on his knees and the room filled with smoke,” Cindy said. “This thing appeared and it said,” she turned to look at him as she said the following words, “The boy must die. The Zarlocks shall have no heirs.”

  Tears began to spill from her eyes again. Kayvan put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “How do you know all of this?”

  Again, Tom wondered if that was the right question to ask. What exactly did she know? It wasn’t making much sense to him. He was the heir? How and of what? And a grey smoky thing, what was that?

  “Lord Dragunov,” Cindy said, wiping away her tears, “I put the shadowing curse on him.”

  “How did you manage to do that?”

  “I gave him a quill.”

  “A quill,” Kayvan repeated softly. He smiled at her. “That’s clever.” She smiled back and there was a moment's silence as they looked into each other’s eyes before Saafir groaned. “So...” Kayvan said as he looked away from her.

  “Thomas,” Cindy chipped in helpfully, “we need to get him out of here.”

  Kayvan nodded. “Know your way with a staff?”

  “I’m not bad,” she replied with a sniff and a smile.

  “Saafir, they’re not here for you. You should be able to-”

  “I’m not going,” Saafir interrupted. “I want to stay and help. I’m good with a staff too and you know it.”

  “Do you even have one with you?”

  “...No.” Saafir’s head dropped. “Fine, I’ll go.”

  “Thank you,” Kayvan said. “On my mark, walk out casually. We’ll keep an eye out for anyone who watches you leave.” He gave Saafir a nudge. “See, you are helping.”

  If that was supposed to cheer him up, it didn’t work. Saafir stood up grumpily and headed for the door.

  “He was supposed to wait for my mark,” Kayvan muttered. “Ready?” he asked Cindy and she nodded. He leaned forward, took her hands in his, rested his elbows on the table and stared into her eyes.

  Tom watched them, perplexed. Were they doing what he thought they were doing? Why were they doing that, and now of all times? He dragged his eyes away, shaking his head. Saafir had reached the door by then. He paused and looked back before he pushed it open and stepped out.

  Tom’s eyes darted around the room, hoping to spot any gazes lingering towards the exit. He found none. But he did notice an eye watching him. It belonged to a man. He sat alone at the opposite end of the room. A grey hooded cloak covered half his face. It was a grey eye and he shouldn’t have seen it, hidden by the shadows as it was.

  And then the man tilted his head towards the light. The shadows disappeared and Tom saw the face clearly, the one-sided smile that raised his right cheek, the scar that cut through it and ended at his lip.

  “There’s too many...”

  Kayvan and Cindy had stopped holding hands, but they were still staring at each other.

  “Greyblood is sitting to my left, laughing,” Kayvan said bitterly.

  That was the Greyblood Cindy had mentioned earlier? It was no wonder she was so worried. With a name like that and a face to match... But how did they know he was there? Tom wondered. Weren’t they busy falling in love or something?

  “There’s only one thing for it.” Kayvan stood up. “Stay,” he said authoritatively and he marched off in Antonio Greyblood’s direction.

  “What’s he going to do?” Tom asked.

  Cindy bit into her bottom lip. “Nothing stupid, I hope.”

  Tom couldn’t help but think he already was doing something stupid. Shouldn’t Kayvan be going in another direction, say towards the exit perhaps? Shouldn’t they all? Antonio’s eyes followed him as he approached. He remained seated, looking nonplussed, though his hand did casually reach into his cloak where it remained. His smile grew as they spoke. He even gave an agreeable nod.

  “Oh no...” Cindy whispered.

  Tom knew she thought Kayvan had done something stupid. Cindy stood up as he returned. He held her hand and pulled her close, wrapping his cloak around her. He whispered in her ear.

  “No no no,” Tom heard her whisper back.

  “...you have to...”

  “I won’t...”

  “...he has to live.”

  Cindy was shaking her head when Kayvan pulled away from her. She tried to hold on, but he held her hands firmly and mouthed a word before slowly letting go.

  Antonio stood up and took off his grey cloak to reveal an exposed neckline and part of his shoulders. There were further scars there, deeper ones. He held a black staff in his hand which he slowly began to spin as he waited.

  Kayvan turned to face him and pulled his own staff out. It was mostly brown, though the edges were cast in silver. Markings of an eagle were etched into it at both ends and it began to glow as he filled it with his magic.

  Soon, those around realised what was about to happen. Wizards and witches moved quickly to push aside tables and chairs to make space.

  “Not in my inn, you won’t,” a voice boomed.

  It was the innkeeper and he was a large, stout man who seemed to care not who stared at him or how hard they stared at him, as Greyblood was.

  “If you have more pride than sense and you must duel,” the innkeeper said, “take it outside.”

  “I will not duel you outside, Malik,” Greyblood said, his voice harsh and befitting his character.

  “House of Malik will pay for your losses, innkeeper,” Kayvan said.

  The innkeeper sighed, disgruntled. “...If you have more pride than sense...”

  A loud roar went up and it was only then did Tom properly notice the crowd. There were those with drinks in hand, laughing, cheering and in generally good spirits. And then there were the ones that stood very close to him and Cindy. With hands in their cloaks, their eyes shifted stonily from him to the duellers.

  Kayvan and Antonio faced each other, both holding staffs by their sides. Kayvan gave a bow before he took a few steps back. Antonio didn’t bother bowing, but he did take a few steps back and bring up his staff.

  And then it began. Greyblood moved faster than anyone Tom had ever seen and the gap between the two that had been metres was suddenly no more. Kayvan’s staff came up just in time as Antonio brought his down over him.

  A muffled gasp escaped Cindy’s lips as the staffs clashed and Kayvan dropped to his knees. She grabbed hold of Tom and pulled him close, her fingers digging into his arms. She smiled weakly as he looked up at her.

  Kayvan wasn’t exactly slow either. He was up off his knees and on the attack, moving at a speed that wasn’t humanly possible. But he was matched strike for strike, and for a while the two moved around each other, sparks flying as their staffs connected.

  Differences soon began to appear. Greyblood was that little bit faster, that little bit stronger. He had Kayvan on the back foot and as he attacked relentlessly, each block appeared flimsier than the last. It seemed only a matter of time.

  And then it happened. Even Tom fe
lt it as Antonio’s staff struck. Kayvan managed to block it, but he skidded backward and dropped to one knee to stay balanced. He remained there, his staff on the ground by his side, his head down, his breathing heavy.

  Antonio moved towards him, a smile on his face, sensing victory. Cindy put an arm around Tom and held him by the midriff. Kayvan raised his head and looked up as Antonio stood over him, his staff raised. They held each other’s gaze before Kayvan lowered his head again.

  “No,” Antonio said and he brought his staff down below Kayvan’s chin, and with it, he raised his head. “You will watch.”

  Kayvan’s eyes, which had seemed tired and resigned, now flashed with anger. His jaw tightened and with his left hand he pushed aside the staff and stared up defiantly.

  “Better,” Antonio said.

  He raised his staff to strike. Kayvan continued to stare up at him, unflinching. At the last moment, his staff came up to deflect the blow. And then he was off the ground swinging his staff at an incredible speed.

  Antonio managed to block the first that came on his right and the second that came towards his left. He even managed to block the third strike but he slipped in doing so. He landed on his back and the staff fell out of his hand.

  Swinging his like a bat, Kayvan struck the black staff like you would a baseball. It rose off the ground and sailed past Tom, hitting three men by his side, knocking them to the ground. Kayvan jumped up into the air holding his staff with both hands.

  “Now!” he shouted as he hit the ground.

  Still being held by Cindy, Tom staggered backward onto her as something pushed past him. Cindy pulled out from within her cloak a metal stick just over a foot in length. If it was a staff, it was the shortest one he had ever seen. She held it in the middle and squeezed. It began to expand in length, width and shape.

  Tom realised it wasn’t a staff but a broom. He noticed too the men who had been standing around him were now on the floor, some writhing, others slowly getting up. Cindy pulled him onto the broom and they were off, shooting straight for the door. They smashed through it, knocking the hinges off.

  Once out, she headed straight up into the sky, leaving behind the inn, leaving behind Kayvan.

  “What are you doing?” Tom asked.

  “Hold onto the broom!”

  Tom grabbed hold of it, reluctantly at first before realising that Cindy would have a hand free, one to use a staff with. They would fly back down and blitz their way through whilst grabbing Kayvan.

  Cindy released her hold on him and pointed her now free hand into the sky. Two enormous wings appeared above the inn, burning bright.

  “What’s that?”

  “A call for help,” Cindy said.

  “We’re not going back for him?”

  She didn’t reply. She held the broom steady as they soared higher and higher. The inn disappeared from sight as the town shrank. Tom was still on the broom but he felt himself falling. He shuddered as he felt his body hit understanding. He remembered Kayvan saying ‘...he has to live’. This had been the plan all along, to get him out at all costs.

  “He’ll be OK,” Cindy whispered. “He has to be.”

  Chapter 33

  The journey from Serpent’s Square to the School of Merlin was not a long one. It was made even shorter by Cindy’s flying. None chased after them, but she flew like they did. Tom dismounted as they touched down at the bottom of the hill in front of the tree house.

  “I have to go,” Cindy said. “You’ll be safe here,” she added, but she didn’t take off. She stared at him hesitantly as she fiddled with the broom. “He’s going to be OK,” she said, not very convincingly.

  Tom’s body seemed to be on auto as his head nodded. He didn’t believe her. Even as they were leaving, Antonio’s men were getting up. One against so many; Kayvan had no chance.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Tonight was to be a simple meet and greet. The dangers, death, doom and gloom, were there to be any, was to come after, when they left for the House of Zarlock. It was his life that was meant to be at risk. Not Kayvan’s, not Saafir’s not...

  Tom looked up at Cindy. “Where’s Saafir?”

  “He will be coming by carriage,” Cindy said. “It’ll take him a while yet.”

  Tom nodded again and waited for her to go. But she made no signs of leaving. With the broom in her hand and her head lowered, she stared at the ground.

  “It’s my fault,” she whispered, “all of this.”

  She turned her back towards him and he heard her take a deep breath. And then he heard a sob. She was crying again. He moved closer to her and placed his hand on her arm. It was meant as a comforting gesture, but at that moment all he could think of was how stupid he must look, holding her like that.

  Cindy turned and pulled him in for a hug. She squeezed him so tightly he struggled to breathe. Her tears were flowing now. He could feel them as they dropped onto his cheek.

  She let go of him unceremoniously and mounted the broom. With a quick wave and a weak smile, she kicked off into the sky. He could see the burning wings clearly from where he stood, and he watched her disappear in their direction before he turned to trek up the hill and into the school.

  It was late. The courtyard was empty, the halls were silent, and the corridors were dark. There was no one about to hassle or harass him and he was glad for it. He didn’t know how he would react if someone did say something.

  He stepped out through the school’s front doors and walked downhill. Once at the bottom, he plonked himself on the ground and leaned his back against one of the stone pillars. It was a good spot to sit and wait for Saafir.

  Tom wondered if Saafir leaving alone was a smart thing to do. There could have been more Le Fays waiting outside, ready to stop anyone from making a quick getaway. It was bad enough that one person had sacrificed their life for him... That was what Kayvan had done – sacrificed his life.

  He has to live, he had said and Tom wondered why. What was so important about his life? Why was it more valuable than Kayvan’s? And Cindy, she was going back there. What if something happened to her?

  Tom looked up. He thought he heard something move. He stood up slowly and squinted. He saw nothing. But he heard the noise again. Footsteps... And then he saw it. There was something out there, and it was moving towards him.

  “Saafir,” he whispered, relieved.

  He suddenly felt a lot better, a lot lighter. Saafir was alive and well. He began to run towards him. He wasn’t far when Saafir stopped walking. He seemed frozen to the spot. And then he turned and began to run away.

  Tom stopped too and turned to look back, wondering what Saafir was running from. He saw nothing. There was nothing behind him, or if there was he couldn’t see it. In which case, Saafir shouldn’t have been able to see it either. Or, was it only invisible to him?

  Tom ran after Saafir as fast as he could. It wasn’t long before he felt his lungs give up. He dropped to his knees gasping for breath and turned. He still saw nothing. He grimaced, waiting for what he feared would be an excruciatingly painful death.

  His lungs recovered and his breathing normalised as he waited, but still nothing came for him. He turned to look over his shoulder, wondering if it had spared him for Saafir. But Saafir seemed fine too. In fact, he had stopped running. He was walking back.

  “What was it?” Tom asked as he came close. “What were you running from?”

  “I think it might have been you,” Saafir said sheepishly.

  “Me? Why?”

  “I didn’t know it was you. All I could see was this thing running, making scary noises.”

  Tom didn’t recall hearing any scary noises. “You mean my breathing?”

  “You would have been frightened too,” Saafir grinned. “How did you get here before me?”

  “Cindy dropped-” Tom stopped.

  Saafir didn’t know. He had left before anything happened, before Kayvan even decided to duel Antonio. He had to tell him, but how? What should
he say? How did you tell someone their brother might be dead?

  Saafir’s eyebrows creased. “What happened?”

  Not for the first time, Tom blurted it out all jumbled up. “I didn’t want to leave,” he finished.

  He wondered why he had said that. Was he trying to absolve himself of blame? Saafir listened silently and said nothing as he finished. Instead, he started to walk up the hill and into the school. Tom followed. They were on the path that led down to the tree house when he finally spoke.

  “We don’t know what’s happened yet,” Saafir said.

  Tom didn’t share Saafir’s resilience or optimism, whichever it was. They climbed the tree house. Saafir sat on the sofa, Tom on the bed. There was nothing to do but wait. News would come of what had transpired.

  And news did come, but not from whom Tom was expecting. He spotted it first, the glowing orb of light floating towards them. As it came closer, he noticed the arms, the legs, the head and the wings. It looked like a fairy.

  “Saafir Malik?” Its voice came out all lovely and flowery.

  Saafir nodded sombrely, his face suddenly pale.

  “I bring news of Kayvan Malik. He is alive and well and in the care of the Elders,” it said and, having given its message, left as abruptly as it had arrived.

  “He’s OK,” Saafir said and he breathed out heavily. Tom did the same, and a small nervous chuckle escaped his lips.

  “What was that thing?” he asked.

  “A fairy.”

  “And the elders, who are they?”

  “More fairies,” Saafir said absently. “They live very long lives,” he added.

  They didn’t speak any more that night. At some point, Saafir climbed onto the top bunk and they both fell into a deep sleep.

  ***

  A rush of coldness swept over Tom as he felt his blanket disappear from over him. He grabbed hold of it instinctively and pulled it back up, trying to trap what little warmth remained.