Warrior from the Shadowland

by Cassandra Gannon

  Something unreadable passed over Job’s expression. He took a step closer to Cross.

  Cross stepped back.

  Job stopped and cleared his throat. His hands went behind his back, military “at rest” style and Nia knew he was about to get all official.

  “Oh, no.” Nia groaned. Cross wouldn’t respond to that. He wouldn’t trust it. “Job, don’t be a Councilor. Be his uncle!”

  “I am Job, of the Earth House.” Job didn’t make any more moves towards Cross. “I’ve come to see that you’re well.”

  Cross nodded, silently.

  “Tell them how important you are to all of us, Cross.” Senti urged, passionately. If she ever took to the stage, her heartbroken mommy routine was all set. “He wants to try and steal you away from your home.”

  “I will kill you!” Nia shrieked.

  Job flashed his sister a look that shook the walls of the castle. There was a small but unmistakable vibration in the stones; a hint of a power so big that it defied known boundaries.

  Senti paled.

  So did Cross.

  Nia saw the exact second that he chose the devil he knew. “I don’t want to leave the Shadowland.”

  “Shit!” Nia threw her hands up and stared at the tiny boy in dismay. “Sweetie, no. Job won’t hurt you like the rest of them. He seems scary, but he’s your savior. Job.” She whirled around to face him again. “Damn it, he’s a baby. You’re frightening him. Don’t be so proper! Go pick him up and carry him back to the Earth Kingdom.”

  Job stared at Cross for a moment as if he was trying to get a better look at him. “I am your uncle.” He said at length. “I won’t harm you. All I want is your happiness, Cross.”

  Nia’s lips parted. For Job, that was the equivalent of wearing his heart on his sleeve. He wanted to go to Cross. He just didn’t know how. And Cross was too distrustful of everyone to close the distance. Nia saw the beginnings of that two feet of space Cross tried to keep between himself and the world forming like a shield around him as the memories went on.

  “You aren’t welcome here, Job.” Senti hissed. “You’ve seen him. Heard him say that he’s very happy with us. No one needs your interference, so get out.” She gestured towards the front door.

  Job watched Cross for another moment and then nodded. “It was good to meet you, Cross.” He said, stiffly. “Perhaps, one day we could talk further.”

  Cross gave a disbelieving snort.

  Nia ran a hand through her hair as Job actually left. “I’m going to strangle them both.” She whispered in defeat.

  Senti stalked across the room and backhanded Cross into the door. “I told you never to come into my house!” She screeched as she beat him.

  Nia covered her eyes and started to cry. She was trapped and helpless to stop these memories and she just couldn’t take any more. How had Cross survived this? Hadn’t anything good ever happened to him? How could he ever open up to her if this was all he knew?

  The scene shifted again and Nia was back in Cross’ shack.

  He was lying on his cot and breathing like every inhalation of air hurt unbearably. There was a smell here that nearly drove her to her knees. Nia knew that smell. Everyone who’d survived the Fall knew it.

  Blood.

  Fluids.

  Bodies rotting. So many bodies there weren’t enough graves, no matter how many anyone dug.

  Death.

  The Fall summed up in its base odors.

  “Cross?” She coughed trying not to gag at the stench and the memories it brought up for her, as well. “Are you alright?”

  He was curled into a fetal position, panting and panting. As she got closer she saw his eyes were open and the whites of them were bright red. The Shadows were killing him. Blood was pouring out of his nose and ears, pain etched on every line of his face. Nia sat down as close to him as she could get. “Sweetie, I’m here.” She didn’t know what else to say. “I’m here, Cross.” She was still crying. “You aren’t alone. I’m here.”

  The door to the shack slammed open and Job swept in, searching. When his eyes settled on Cross, Nia saw relief and concern mix on his rough face. “Cross. There you are.” He was across the room in two strides and crouching down next to the cot. “You’re supporting the entire House alone?” He demanded. “Can you do that?”

  Cross rolled his bleeding eyes up to meet his uncle’s. His expression perfectly conveyed the staggering stupidity of that question. “I am doing it.” He whispered as if it hurt to talk.

  “Can you keep it balanced, though?” Job raised his hand like he wanted to touch Cross’ shoulder. Then, he dropped it, again. “I’m not sure how we can distribute the weight to another House. Only Shadow Phases can support the Shadows.” He was babbling now and Job wasn’t a man who babbled. “Oh, Gaia.” He closed his eyes. “Just… Thank Gaia, you’re alive.” Nia had never seen him look so tired. During the Fall, Job had tried so hard to hold the center… But things still fell apart. For once, he actually looked a thousand years old. “Cross.” He focused on his nephew. “Your mother…”

  “Dead.” Cross interrupted. “Everyone but me.”

  “I know.” Job sighed, again, and Nia realized he was actually taking a moment to mourn his horrible sister. “I sensed Senti die. I just…” He trailed off and cleared his throat. “At least, I still have you.”

  Cross gave the exact same snort he’d drug out the last time Job had come to see him. Doubt and distain, liberally sprinkled with not giving a damn. He closed his eyes as if he wanted to shut Job out.

  Nia stared at Job and, for the first time, she saw a hint of vulnerability in his invincible façade. For a second, he looked like a lonely little boy who knew he wasn’t welcomed to play kickball with the other kids. Then, it was gone and he was just Job again, all protocol and procedure.

  “I felt the world end, Cross. How did you stop it? How are you doing this?”

  “Match.” Cross’ blood filled eyes lit with a determination even brighter than the pain. “Felt her.”

  Nia’s heart stopped.

  “You found your Match?” Job translated. “That’s wonderful.” His voice was so beautiful. Rich and pure, like a balm healing all the little microscopic fissures inside of you. Cross might have acted like Job’s visit was a colossal imposition on his social calendar, but Nia could see him relaxing slightly and focusing on his uncle through the agony. “Where is she?” Job glanced back at the door as if Cross’ Match might be lurking out among the corpses.

  “Don’t know. Just felt her. Going to find her.” It was a vow.

  Nia felt herself responding to the raw determination in his tone. “You found me, Cross.”

  Job frowned. “You don’t know where she is, but your Match was strong enough that your felt her as the universe collapsed? Am I getting that?”

  “Yes.” Cross mouthed the word.

  Job’s head tilted, again, as if he was thinking deeply. “Not many Phases are left.” He ran a hand through his hair. It was the first time Nia had ever seen it disheveled and loose. Thick and pure white, it fell past his shoulders, the highlight a vivid lawn green. It was lovely. Job could actually be sort of handsome if he tried. “There are so few of us, now.”

  “I’m left.” She told him. “Me. I’m his Match, Job. Nia, of the Water House.”

  “She’s left.” Cross whispered. “Maybe not a Phase. Don’t care. She’s there.”

  “Thank you.” Nia nodded. “See, Job?”

  He clearly didn’t see. “Teja made it. She’s got a lot of energy. You’d be able to feel it over an apocalypse.”

  “Teja?!” Nia tried to give Job’s shoulder a punch. “Me, me, me, me, me, dummy!”

  He reached up to touch the exact spot she’d hit, his expression faintly puzzled.

  Nia froze. “Oh my, God.” He really was sensing her. Sensing her when she wasn’t even there. “Job, how powerful are you?” She got out in a strained tone, because she’d never even heard of someone being able to do wha
t he just did. It actually went passed impressive and into the realm of scary.

  Job gave his head a clearing shake and raised another almost-touching-but-not-quite palm to Cross. That damn two feet of air, again. Job wouldn’t break into Cross’ very clear space bubble without some kind of permission. He was apparently strong enough to do things that no other Phase would dream of, but Job was still all about etiquette. “Do you want some water?”

  Cross let out a low groan. “Yes.” The desire was so apparent in his tone that Nia felt tears well up, again.

  She was a Water Phase and her Match was thirsty? He was here suffering and she couldn’t help him, at all. “Job, hurry.”

  Job got up to get Cross a drink. “At least, Nia and Tharsis are keeping the Water House afloat.” He muttered. “And if Ty recovers, we’ll have three. God, we can’t lose them or we’ll all go under.”

  There was absolutely no reason for him to say something like that. Even he looked baffled as he came back to Cross with an earthen mug full of water. Job felt her here. Nia was convinced of it, now. He didn’t know it, but he was picking up on her energy and instinctively thinking of her. “Job, I’m his Match.” She repeated.

  “Water House?” Cross gulped down the water so fast it ran down his chin. “Only three Water Phases left?”

  “Only three.” Job went to pour Cross a second glass. “Luckily, one of them is Nia and she’ll never let it fall. She’s too stubborn.”

  Nia took that as a compliment. “Thanks.”

  Cross sucked down the second cup of water a bit slower. “Nia?” He echoed, his Shadow-y tone rumbling over the name and Nia felt herself melt. She loved his voice.

  “Nia. The most aggravating, know-it-all, idealist in the realm.” Job reported. “She thinks she can tell me how to run the Council. Once she’s finished there, she’ll be off to reorganize the rest of universe. Bossy and defiant and –God-- if your Match is anything like her, you’d better just run.”

  “I detest you, right now.” Nia snapped. “I’m so making you pay for that.”

  “She’s yours?” Cross asked, apparently picking up on something in that list of insults that led him to think that Job was praising her or something. Men were idiots.

  “No.” Job shook his head. “I don’t have a Match. I’m not meant to. But, the Phase who gets Nia will be blessed. She’s a Match who any man would choose if he could. Lovely and honest and strong. She’s a gift.”

  Nia forgave Job. “I love you, too.”

  “She’s a pain in the ass, though.” Job continued. Now that he’d captured his nephew’s attention, Job seemed willing to pursue the topic of Nia forever, if need be. “She shouts at me. Nobody shouts at me. I’m not sure why I allow it from her.”

  “Allow?” Nia challenged. “Oh, please. Tell him more good stuff about me and stop trying to pretend that you’re cool.”

  And Job did. He talked about Nia for over an hour, his perfect voice going from annoyance, to affection, to amusement as he told stories about her childhood Council visits.

  Cross laid there and listened, his expression more open than Nia had ever seen it.

  Nia rested her head on his cot and watched him absorb every word Job spoke. She saw Cross’ yearning, his desperation to have someone to love, his crippling isolation and pain. How, in the midst of his terrible life, in the midst of terrible pain and a terrible plague, he’d chosen life rather than leave her. He hadn’t been exaggerating earlier. He needed her, desperately.

  “I’m already here, Cross.” Nia assured him. She would never leave this man. Not for anything in the universe.

  But, she was tearing down that two feet of space that he tried to hide behind if she had to hire a wrecking ball to do it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I fancy that's how the majority of civilized people look at it, so that the absence of

  the moral, poetical element in love is treated in these days as a phenomenon…

  it is a symptom of degeneracy, of many forms of insanity.

  Anton Chekov- “Ariadne”

  “A police station?” Chason looked at the printout Abel handed him. “They’ve been arrested by the humans?” The page displayed the coordinates of the walkie-talkies’ location right there in black and white, so Abel didn’t really see the point in answering him.

  Lansing did it for him. “Yes, sir.” Unlike Abel, Lansing idolized Chason and his quest for galactic vengeance. “I looked into it and Uriel, Tharsis and Queen Tritone seem to be in a human jail, right now.”

  Abel had never seen Chason amused, but the subtle lift of his boss’ eyebrow was the equivalent of another Phase rolling on the floor in hysterics. Even through his blind hatred, Chason apparently found the idea of Elementals doing hard time in prison… entertaining.

  Abel didn’t.

  It was embarrassing, that creatures as feeble and dim-witted as the humans could capture Phases. A black mark against their entire species. The Water House deserved execution for their stupidity and, when Abel was God, he’d ensure that they got it. All except, Nia. She would be spared because she’d been smart enough to evade the humans. He was merciful, when people deserved it. And because Abel was growing more and more obsessed with the thought of her curvy body under his control.

  “Where is Nia?” Chason demanded.

  Abel jolted, slightly, panicked that Chason had somehow read his thoughts. Abel despised his boss, but he had a wary, grudging respect for Chason’s hard ass, ruthlessness. If Chason figured out Abel’s plans to steal the Quintessence for himself, he’d have Raiden chop Abel’s head off with a dull ax.

  Literally.

  Luckily, Chason was still focused on Lansing. “Why wasn’t she arrested with the others? It’s not like Nia to stay on the sidelines of anything, even imprisonment.”

  “I’m not sure, sir. Cross may have helped her escape. I’m sure he’s the one who killed the Air Phases at the hospital.”

  “Cross?” Chason glanced over at Abel. “The Shadow King? He’s insane.”

  And who would know “insane” better than Chason?

  “Apparently, Cross is feeling better.” Abel smiled, grimly. “Probably has something to do with screwing Nia. That would cure a lot of what ails any man.”

  Chason leaned back in his chair. “Cross is in the human realm with Nia? How…?”

  “He’s her Match.” Lansing interrupted. “I could sense the Phazing energy.”

  Chason’s expression grew shuttered. “A Phase-Match.” His lips barely moved as he said the words.

  “It’s a sacrilege that Cross, bastard of the Shadow House, should have a Match.” Abel chimed in, furious that Lansing had spilled that and desperate to do some damage control. “After so many of us lost ours in the Fall, the universe just gives him a Match. It’s not fair and it only makes me more determined to find the Quintessence and forget this whole universe like a bad dream.”

  Abel’s biggest worry, now, was that Chason would retract his orders to snatch Nia because she belonged to Cross. Chason was just stupid enough to balk at taking another man’s Match. Friggin’ sentimental lunatic.

  Personally, Abel wasn’t crying over the loss of his own whiny bitch of a Match. He hadn’t even taken the time to bury her before he walked away from the house they’d shared and moved on to someplace better. To a larger home, more befitting of his real status. Besides, the former owners sure hadn’t needed it, anymore.

  Chason would never understand what it meant to have a grander destiny than some vapid whore. His whole life had become a funeral for his lost love. But, then his Match had been someone worthy of mourning. Mara, of the Magnet House had been an Elemental celebrity. The Elemental celebrity. Beautiful and dignified and married to a king, she’d been on the cover of some magazine at least once a week, doing some new charity work or attending a glittery gala. She’d been Princess Diana meets Cinderella. Hell, her Phazing Day with Chason had shut down the whole fucking realm, as everyone who was anyone attended the celebra
tion.

  In any case, Chason’s insane love for his dead bride actually helped Abel. It not only meant that Chason created and controlled the Reprisal, it ensured that Chason was permanently preoccupied with playing Elemental Heathcliff. It meant that Abel could plan for his future. The Fall had catapulted Abel towards the greatness that he’d always felt inside of him. He’d been denied, held back, cheated all of his life, until the Fall thinned the herd and showed him his true path. Now, Abel, of the Stone House was just a stone’s throw away from being God.

  No pun intended.

  All he needed to do was find the Quintessence and, to do that, Abel needed Chason’s army.

  “Cross could never understand the power of a Match.” Abel tried to look sad and grieve-y as he shook his head. “We can’t let him distract us from our mission to find the Quintessence.”

  Chason tilted his head, almost like he’s heard something.

  Abel frowned, listening intently and coming up with nothing. The Magnet Fortress never had a lot of noise, but the place was completely dead, right now. Not even a footstep.

  Chason squeezed his eyes shut and then refocused on Abel. “After we destroy the Air House, nothing we had to do to get the Quintessence will matter. Just go to the human realm. If Ty and Tharsis are with the cops, then Nia will come for them sooner or later. Once we capture the Water House, they’ll lead us to what we need.”

  Lansing nodded sharply, just like a good little Reprisal cadet. “Yes, sir.”

  “We’ll need more soldiers to extract them from a police station.” Abel pointed out, trying not to grin with smug satisfaction. “Shall I gather some more men?”

  Chason nodded vaguely, rubbing at his temples as if he had a splitting headache. Or like he was trying to block out some noise that only he could hear. “Just make sure you don’t kill them. We’ll need them alive if we’re going to find out about the Quintessence.”

  “They’ll be alive and healthy enough to withstand our questioning.” Abel promised. “At least, the women will.” He straightened the cuffs of his cashmere jacket as he turned and headed for the door.