Shadowlands

by Malan, Violette

  “It is as I fear. Tell me.”

  I cleared my throat, wiped my eyes with my right hand as I straightened my back and raised my chin. “A Rider—Nighthawk.” My voice trembled on his name, but I needed, and he deserved, that I say it out loud. “Hawk was killed here.” I indicated the floor we stood on. I’d meant to tell him everything, but in the last minute I couldn’t do it. “A Hound,” was all I said.

  Wolf looked at me then, his pale gray eyes boring into mine. I wasn’t going to say I knew who the Hound had been, not unless he asked me outright. He lowered his eyes again, and I saw that he didn’t have to.

  “And Graycloud? Alejandro?”

  I was touched that Wolf’s next thought had been of the person who was most important to me. Though it wasn’t much of a stretch to figure out how he’d gone from thinking of Fox to Alejandro.

  “Wasn’t here,” I said. “He’s still okay.” I wrapped my arms around myself.

  “Nighthawk’s dra’aj?” Wolf asked then, but his voice was just a whisper.

  At first I didn’t know what he was getting at, but then I did and my heart sank. “He took it.” I coughed to open my throat a little so I could say it. “Fox took it.”

  Wolf swallowed, but he didn’t look away. “Nighthawk is Faded. I will have to tell the High Prince. They are of the same fara’ip.” The muscles of his face had firmed up again, and his voice was stronger. “You are certain it was Fox.” It wasn’t a question. He’d known from the scents before I ever touched anything.

  “I can’t be wrong.”

  He nodded. By the look on his face, I was guessing Wolf had already turned his thoughts away from the hall, trying to think of something else. He gestured, and I walked back into the apartment ahead of him. I’d only taken two steps into the entry when I realized Wolf wasn’t right behind me. I turned to find him still at the opening, frowning. I went back to see what he was looking at.

  “What is it?”

  “I cannot enter.” He was frowning, his black brows drawn down. “I do not understand. The Binding I put on the room, the door, it should not keep me out as well.” He raised his eyes to mine. “For you to enter, and for me not—this is beyond my experience.”

  “But you were in.” I turned away from him, looked around without moving, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary. All the furniture was in the same place it had been when I last saw it. Then I had an idea, and I ran my hands over the walls near the door.

  “This is your doing, all right,” I said. “When you Sang, something changed in the walls.” I bit off a laugh that felt as painful as it sounded. “Looks like you were a bit too general in your Binding. Riders who have been here before can Move into the apartment, but Riders—and I’d guess any others of the People—can’t just walk in.” I looked back at him and tried to smile. “So the only Riders who can come in, are the ones who have been here already. One of us.”

  Wolf looked past me into the apartment, then down the hall toward the elevators. I saw that the note from Nik was sticking out of his jeans pocket. “We must go.”

  “Take me home,” I said. Suddenly I needed to see Alejandro.

  Wolf Moved us to the backyard, and it seemed odd, somehow, to run up the steps of the deck to the back door, almost as though I’d been away for months. For the first time, however, I felt as though I was actually coming home. The house was so ordinary, so human, and the sight of the pieces of furniture that Alejandro had brought from Spain, and a pair of my shoes lying under the table in the sunroom where I’d kicked them off, were almost enough to make me cry.

  At the sound of our entrance, Alejandro appeared in a flash from the kitchen, his sword in his hand. For a second I knew what the bull must have felt like in the bullring, back in the day when Alejandro Martín had been the name that appeared on posters all over Spain. He folded me into his arms, and I was happy to be held there, clinging to him, his familiar smell of ripe cherries in my nostrils, the warm familiar buzz of him against my psyche.

  Finally, he held me away at arm’s length, looking from me to Wolf and back again. “You are safe, almost I cannot believe it. Querida, where have you been?”

  I caught his hands between mine. “Alejandro,” I said. “We have the Horn.”

  His eyes lit up, he brought my hands to his lips and kissed them.

  I’d forgotten my left hand, at least until I heard the intake of Alejandro’s breath when he saw it. He held my hand gently, careful not to touch the place where the finger was gone.

  “A Solitary?” he said, distress written large on his ruddy face. When I said yes, he closed his eyes for a moment, resignation clear in the way his lips pressed together. Somehow, his acceptance of my injury without lamentation made me feel warm, as if he were really treating me, for the first time, as an adult able to make her own decisions, and bear her own burdens.

  “Come,” he said. “Nik is here, and we have dire news.”

  I stopped him. “If you mean Nighthawk,” I said. “He’s Faded. We already know.”

  Alejandro shut his eyes tight. “You are certain.” It wasn’t a question, but I nodded. He shook his head and kissed me on the forehead.

  It’s against my normal practice, but I gave Nik a hug when Alejandro led us into the front room. After what I’d been through, even his fragmentation felt familiar and homey—though different. Nik responded immediately to my hug, even tightening his grip when I tried to take a step back. He wasn’t as tall as Wolf, and I looked almost directly into his deep brown eyes.

  “You need to be more careful,” I said, my hands pushing against his chest. His dra’aj was different, and I knew why. “Both of you,” I added. I’d gotten some of the same images from both of them. “You shouldn’t get that close to a Hound.”

  Nik blinked at me, looked at Alejandro as he stepped away. “Wow. It’s true. She’s really psychic. How did you get used to her knowing things without having to tell her?”

  “The problem is that the rest of us do not know exactly what she knows, unless she tells us.” Wolf was looking at me sideways, reluctance strong on his face. “I take it they have had an encounter with a Hound?”

  I bit my lip. But it was hard to remember that Wolf wouldn’t feel as triumphant as everyone else when a Hound was killed.

  “You see,” Alejandro said to Nik. “You must tell your tale in any case. What Valory knows about our encounter may not be what Wolf, for example, wishes to know.”

  “Does anyone mind if I eat while you’re doing it?”

  Alejandro hustled away into the kitchen. I sat down in my own wing-backed chair and Wolf perched on the arm. Nik smiled with half of his mouth, his head tilted to one side, prodded the footstool over with his toe, and sat down to my left. I kept my face as straight as I could.

  “At first it seemed the Hound would come to be cured,” Alejandro said, as he came in from the kitchen with cheese and bread, beer and sangria on a tray, setting it down on the end of the coffee table, where I could reach it without difficulty. “But it was only a ruse to get close enough to Nik to take his dra’aj.”

  Nik took up the tale from there. Now that the worst was over, I knew he was feeling pretty good, happy to have escaped, but his elation faded as he spoke, and he grew more and more serious as he told us how the Hound almost tricked them, and how Alejandro had ended by having to kill it. By the end he was compressing his lips, sobered.

  “Thank you for giving him every chance,” Wolf said. His voice was so quiet I twisted my head round to look at him. His face was remote.

  “One never knows when one might need such a chance oneself,” Alejandro said. He hesitated, studying Wolf’s face a moment before continuing. “I did not ask his name. I did not think he would give it to me.”

  Wolf became very, very still. I moved my hand over and touched him. Of course. He’d actually known the Hound Alejandro had killed. It had been a Pack mate to Wolf, not just a monster to be killed. And all the dra’aj it had taken over its immeasurably long lif
e was lost now, never to be restored to the Lands. My breath hitched in my throat. Lying under Wolf’s sorrow was disappointment deep enough to drown in. This was the third Hound who hadn’t wanted to be cured.

  I had no idea what the statistics were about drug addicts, how many got cured. “People don’t always go to get help right away, the first time it’s offered,” was what I said. “Sometimes you have to keep offering. Give them a second, maybe even a third chance.”

  “But can we afford to give them these chances?” Alejandro said. “Lives are being destroyed even as we speak.”

  Wolf took a deep breath, his head lifting as his chest expanded. “What do we know?” he said.

  Alejandro looked at Wolf for a long moment before nodding. It wasn’t a change of subject. “They have been seen coming and going from this Maple Leaf Gardens, and it is clear that they have denned there.” He turned to Nik.

  “My people have been keeping a watch out, and I’ve asked them to report to Elaine. She’s been acting as clearing house for the latest, up-to-date information.”

  “Walks Under the Moon has been helping her,” Alejandro added.

  “Then they should be here.” Wolf glanced around as Nik pulled out his mobile phone. “Has Moon been to this house?”

  Nik looked up, his mouth open. “I’m not sure.”

  Wolf stood up. “Then I will bring them.” And CRACK! he was gone.

  It was almost comical the way Alejandro and Nik turned to me, the identical look of uncertainty on their faces.

  “What?”

  Nik rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Using the Horn isn’t going to be all that easy for him, is it?”

  I didn’t know what I should say. “He wants to save them,” was what I said finally. “He was saved, so he figures he owes them the chance.”

  Nik frowned. “I’m sorry about his friends, but the Hunt’s going to destroy us, if we don’t destroy it first. Doesn’t that have to be our priority?”

  “Maybe it won’t turn out the way he hopes, maybe none of the Hounds will accept Healing, not even…” I hesitated. Had Wolf told anyone else about Fox? I mean, he hadn’t really told me, had he? I turned to Alejandro. “But the Horn might give Wolf a chance. He won’t be able to live with himself afterward if he doesn’t even try…” I shivered as though a dark, cold cloud had passed over me. I was missing something. I knew it, but what?

  “So, now that we have the Horn…” Nik began.

  “It’s possible we can only use it once,” I said. I refrained from mentioning the chance, slim though it might be, that the Horn wouldn’t work at all.

  “Then we will not be able to summon individual Hounds, as the Basilisk Prince did,” Alejandro said. “We must summon them all at once.” Alejandro stroked his chin, his gaze turned inward. “Nik’s people have been invaluable. We know where the Hunt gathers, and are starting to make some estimate of their numbers. I have three other Riders who have sworn to help us, as soon as I tell them when and where.” Alejandro looked at me. “The High Prince has said that she could not spare anyone, to search the Shadowlands for the Hunt, but if we had them all in one place…once we blow the Horn…”

  I put my hand on the felt packet that was still under my shirt. When we’d come back from the Lands, the clothes that I’d been wearing had changed into a pair of jeans and a tight T-shirt with a ruffled front, perfect for hiding things. Alejandro made an aborted gesture with his left hand, and I slipped mine off the arm of the chair and put it down next to my thigh. Not carefully enough, obviously, since Nik caught it.

  “What is it,” he asked. “What’s wrong with your hand?” He was on his feet, already reaching for me, and I could read the determination in his face. Alejandro flashed to Nik’s side, and was pulling him away before he could touch me, when I raised my hand, effectively answering his question and putting a stop to any possible struggle at the same time.

  “Valory.” I saw the same thing on his face, and heard the same thing in his voice as I’d seen and heard the first time I’d met him. Horror. Grief. Then his eyes narrowed, and his face hardened with accusation. “How did Wolf let this happen?”

  My mouth suddenly dry, I looked at Alejandro.

  “Wolf has suffered the same loss,” Alejandro said. “I have seen it with my own eyes, and you could have done so as well, if you had cared to.” He looked back at me. “‘Those who come asking favors of Solitaries have always a price to pay.’”

  “It was a voluntary price,” I added. “The Horn wouldn’t work without it.”

  “Oh, Valory,” Nik said, sinking back down to his stool. He put his hand on my knee, and this time no one stopped him.

  “Hey, it’s not like I played the piano or anything,” I said, hoping they couldn’t hear the flatness in my voice.

  Wolf could smell his brother the instant he arrived in Elaine’s office. Elaine herself was lying facedown in a corner, as limp as though she were nothing more than a pile of empty clothing.

  “Step out, brother,” Wolf said. “I can smell you. Step out.”

  A shadow moved, and suddenly Fox was leaning against the wall just inside the door. His form—his own form, his true form—startled Wolf, even though he’d seen it at the train station. Almost, almost, Fox looked as though the Hunt had never existed. Still, Wolf knew better than to look his brother in the eyes.

  Clearly, Fox had fed from humans since taking Nighthawk’s dra’aj. Wolf glanced at Elaine, and gritted his teeth.

  “Where is Moon?”

  “What do you care?”

  Wolf turned back toward his brother. “She is my fara’ip.”

  “Your fara’ip?” Fox took a step toward him; Wolf held his place. “What about me? I’m your fara’ip. Your brother, your Pack mate. Or has this Healing you keep telling me about made you stupid as well as soft?”

  Wolf moved his head slowly from side to side. “You are the stupid one, if you believe me soft. Where is Moon?”

  “I got tired of waiting for someone to get back to me. I don’t like being ignored. Maybe your precious High Prince’ll listen better now. Tell her that her sister’s safe for now. But I’ll kill her; I’ll Fade her, unless our demands are met. Leave this world to us, close the Portals. You have until sundown.”

  “Where is she?”

  Fox grinned. “In a safe place.”

  Wolf’s hands clenched, and he wished he’d arrived sword in hand. “In what place could she be safe?”

  “I’m Pack Leader now.” Fox’s satisfaction was plain. “They’ll do whatever I tell them to. Besides, they don’t need her anymore.” He flicked his fingers as if removing a speck of dirt.

  “I wish I had your faith in their good behavior.”

  Fox lounged on the arm of the couch, his elbow propped on the back. He crossed his legs, swinging one foot. “Maybe I should get back to her, then. Make sure she’s okay.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I’ve told you.” Fox didn’t move. He’d delivered his ultimatum, but he was not in any hurry to leave. Wolf knew his first concern should be for Moon, but it was impossible not to think of his brother. Impossible to keep the hope that had sprung up, a warm note in his chest, from spreading. But he had to move carefully—it appeared Fox remained contrary and stubborn, whatever form he took.

  But it was just possible that the taking of Nighthawk’s dra’aj—when Fox had sworn so scornfully that he did not need it, would never touch the dra’aj of a Rider again—had been enough to show Fox his last shame. Might he be ready to listen? Even his boasts and insults might be the last show of bravado before he gave in.

  “What if I said I wanted you?” Fox smiled his old smile, and Wolf’s heart turned over. “To bring you back to my side? We can run the Pack together. With this new world to live in, we can finally be free of the Lands and the People.”

  “But not free of the craving, of the hunger.”

  Fox waved this away. “It’s only shortage of supply that makes the craving a problem
. There’s so much prey here—enough for all of us—that shortage isn’t something we’ll ever worry about again.”

  “And never to see the changing Lands again?”

  His brother fell silent and Wolf risked a quick look at his face. Fox’s eyes, the brilliant green that he remembered so well, were focused in the middle distance. “There’s change here.” But the voice was not so sure now. “And now we can Move.”

  “It is not the same. Sun and moon in the same hour, in different skies. Landscapes as many as the leaves on a tree, as grains of sand on a beach, each unique, each itself.” Wolf reached out, turned his hand palm up. “You say you can Move, but where to? Everywhere the Shadowlands are the same. We will not see here the tabo’or waves of the Sea of Storms.”

  “The stars beneath the Shaghana’ak Abyss,” Fox said, his tone soft and far away.

  “Hunting the white stag in a forest of living Trees.” Wolf felt a tune stirring in his throat, in one minute, in two, he would remember the Song.

  But Fox shook himself, straightening to his feet, and the Song was gone. “You’re still the same, brother. Always looking back.”

  “I am not looking back now,” Wolf said. “I look forward. I look to the life I now have before me. The life you, too, could have before you, if you wished it.”

  “It’s that easy, then?”

  Was there a longing in Fox’s voice? Was his brother finally listening to him? He’d listened once before, long ago. Wolf had to take this chance that Fox would listen again.

  “I will not hide from you that there was pain,” Wolf said, remembering the tearing agony, the dragon fire as it burned through him. “But pain is something we know well. Pain is nothing that we fear.”

  “No, we don’t, that’s so.” Fox straightened until he was no longer leaning against the back of the couch, and Wolf allowed the small flame of hope to grow. “And the others?”

  “Will they not be led by you?”

  Fox grinned, his mouth, for one heartbeat, too large and too full of too sharp teeth. “That they would be,” he acknowledged.