The Shadow Trilogy Complete Box Set

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The Shadow Trilogy Complete Box Set Page 30

by Dayne Edmondson


  Jason moved into the room, disengaging from Ashley. He held his hand out toward Bridgette. “Ummm, guys, this is Bridgette. Bridgette, this is my sister Ashley and my best friend John.”

  Bridgette nodded. “Nice to meet you both. Jason has told me nothing about you.”

  “Well, that’s something we both have in common then. He’s told us nothing about you either,” Ashley replied. She arched her eyebrows at Jason. “Did she have something to do with where you were last night?”

  “Oh man!” John slapped his hand on the table. “Did you score, man? With her? Damn dude, that must have been some…” he cut short at a glare from Ashley, but winked at Jason and shoveled more eggs into his mouth.

  “Well?” Ashley prompted.

  Jason took a seat across from John. “You guys should probably sit down for this.” After Ashley and Bridgette were seated, he began. “Well you see, I was…”

  “We spent the night together,” Bridgette interrupted. “It was a bit painful, but we spent the night together.”

  “Sweet!” John said and held his hand out, prompting Jason for a high five.

  “It wasn’t like that!” Jason protested, his face burning with embarrassment, his hands held firm in his lap. “We spent the night in the same room, but nothing happened!”

  “Then what did happen?” Ashley asked, her voice cold enough to freeze fire.

  “Well, I was walking by an alleyway when…” He told his story for the next hour, with frequent interjections by Bridgette, either arguing about an event or reminding him of something he forgot, as well as several drinks of water. “…and then the king said we were free to go. We came straight here. Bridgette just wants to be reunited with Dawyn.”

  “Let me get this straight,” John said, leaning back in his chair, his plate clean. “You two are linked somehow? How does that work?”

  “It was strange. It’s like it inserted some sort of program into my mind. A ‘module’ the man called it.”

  “This was the guy in your head? Are you sure you weren’t hallucinating?”

  “Yes, I’m positive. Bridgette saw her own version of that human implant relation guy, didn’t you?”

  “I saw a woman, but yes, she identified herself similarly,” Bridgette replied.

  Ashley seemed unconvinced. “So what do these modules do? Can you read each other’s mind?”

  “Not quite. The king described it as being able to broadcast thoughts, feelings and emotions to the link partner. I think it works through some form of sub-vocalization or communication device, where it’s not stream-of-consciousness that is transmitted, but rather any thoughts that are directed toward the module. I’m not sure how the feelings and emotions are transfered - perhaps only when a communication link is open or maybe that’s stream-of-consciousness. We haven’t exactly been experimenting with it much yet. The king and queen are able to communicate across vast distances - even across the world.”

  “Wow, that’s deep, man,” John said. “It sounds pretty cool, too.”

  “I only agreed to this deal,” Bridgette said the last word with distaste, “because I didn’t feel like being imprisoned for the rest of my life, and I want to find my brother. Do you know when he will return?”

  Ashley shook her head. “No, Dawyn didn’t tell us much, other than he would be back when he completed his task.”

  “What was his task?” Bridgette asked.

  “He and Anwyn went in search of the slave master who had been responsible for Anwyn’s imprisonment.”

  “Who’s Anwyn?”

  “His lover,” John said. “She’s a druid.”

  “Oh,” Bridgette said. “I remember her from the tavern. She turned into a panther.”

  “Yeah, she does that a lot,” John said.

  Jason cleared his throat. “Well, how about you two let Bridgette and I eat. I haven’t eaten since last night.”

  John went and ordered food for Jason and Bridgette. They made small-talk while they waited for the food and drink to arrive. They reminisced about their time on Earth, comparing current events, thoughts on various technologies and their experiences during their first two decades on Earth. Bridgette was recalcitrant to divulge much information about herself, and generally answered in one or two word answers, causing Jason to fill in the awkward silence by giving her information about he and his companions in answer to the questions she was asked. Ashley, for her part, was reluctant to speak, content to watch Bridgette with a suspicious eye.

  After the food arrived, Jason and Bridgette ate their fill, stuffing their mouths with eggs, sausage and bacon. Their plates clean, Jason leaned back in his chair. “Wow, that tasted good. I feel like I haven’t eaten in weeks!”

  Bridgette stood up. “I must be going.”

  “Whoa, wait, where are you going?” Jason demanded. “Shouldn’t we discuss this before you go wandering off?”

  Bridgette glared at Jason. “I am not some child that needs my father’s permission. I will go where I please. Nor am I your wife, where I might be obliged to discuss my leaving beforehand.”

  Jason fell silent, stunned. Just when he thought they had a connection, she went and shattered it. Who am I kidding, he thought to himself. She doesn’t care about anyone but herself and Dawyn. Maybe this link was a mistake. I shouldn’t bother caring about her - she obviously cares nothing for me.

  He had not intended for the sentiment to be expressed to anyone but himself, but by the way Bridgette’s eyes widened, he had broadcast his thought to her. Maybe it was, came the reply. I never asked for you to care about me, you know. Goodbye, Jason. Without speaking, she turned and strode from the room, slamming the door.

  “So, was that your link in action?” Ashley asked.

  Jason averted his eyes to the floor. “Yeah. I hadn’t intended for her to hear it, but I guess I have some practicing to do.”

  “You should go after her, man,” John said. “I mean, you two are linked - for life. You better get used to it and get along. Unlike with marriage, divorce isn’t an option.”

  Jason sighed. They were right. He closed his eyes and focused on the part of his mind where he sensed Bridgette. Locating it seemed to become easier with each passing minute. Bridgette, are you there? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Will you meet with me, please?

  For several moments, there was no reply. Then, No. I’m leaving town. We can discuss it when I return.

  Will you at least tell me where you’re going?

  To hunt my former master.

  Jason considered following her. He imagined the link could act similar to a GPS or locater beacon, whereby he could pinpoint her coordinates down to a small area, but knew that his presence wouldn’t be welcome. Besides, he had his training to consider. Every day of training made him stronger. Each day, he felt his mind expanding, his ability to control magic ever increasing and he learned many new abilities on an almost daily basis. Leaving before his training was complete would set him back. No, he would remain until his training was complete, before venturing back into the wider world.

  His eyes snapped open. He alternated his gaze between Ashley and John. “She doesn’t want to meet right now. She says we’ll talk when she gets back.”

  “If she comes back,” Ashley said.

  “She will,” Jason said with certainty. “Don’t ask me why, but I trust her.”

  Chapter 25 - Revenge

  Bridgette surveyed the cave from atop the ridge. A trickle of smoke drifted from the mouth of the cave, the acrid smell reaching her nose. So, it seems he’s still here. She had traveled for a fortnight to reach the cave, deep within the Black Woods west of Tar Ebon. Given the vastness of the forest, the cave was undetectable unless one knew where to look. She had run across no signs of civilization save a small ranger patrol since crossing the Rovark Bridge in Northumbia, northwest of Tar Ebon and northeast of her current position. The ranger patrol had not detected her.

  She wore her typical assassin attire - blac
k boots, trousers, tunic and cloak, with a hood covering her head and a veil masking all but her eyes. A pair of daggers sat in sheathes on her belt, while a bandoleer of throwing knives clung to each of her thighs. Her current equipment would be more than enough to take on the crippled Lord Garik.

  As she thought of Lord Garik, her thoughts drifted to her brother, Dawyn, who had removed Lord Garik’s hand that fateful night many months earlier. It was that night when Bridgette had realized her brother was alive - and that she even had a brother as her memory returned - but they had been separated once more. She had remained under the command of Lord Garik even after those events, unable to act on her own. She and Lord Garik had weathered the winter in the dank, cold cave, with her leaving only to hunt for food and collect wood for the fire. With the coming of spring, Lord Garik’s machinations for revenge against the kingdom had been renewed with a vengeance and he had commanded her to assassinate the king.

  Something had changed when she went to kill the king. She had met a man that changed her life - though she would not admit it to him. The pure innocence and heart which young Jason possessed baffled Bridgette. She couldn’t understand how someone could be so virtuous and kind. Even after she had threatened to kill him, he only wanted to help her, risking his own freedom to save her from imprisonment by becoming connected to her on a level deeper than most married couples. She was careful not to think in the direction of the module that represented communication with Jason - the last thing she wanted was for him to hear her inner musings about him, as she had with him.

  Before descending from the ridge, Bridgette considered reaching out to Jason, in case anything went wrong. But no, she would not distract him and she could afford no further distraction, or delay. I’ll deal with him, and sort out my thoughts and feelings, when I return to Tar Ebon, she thought.

  Standing up, Bridgette strode without fear or stealth toward the cave entrance. No traps lay in wait for her, for she would have known of their existence, yet she kept her ability, the power to shift into a world that was a replica of the existing world, only devoid of people and of a dark gray color, a mere thought away from being activated. The power to shift into another dimension - a shadow world she called it - came at a price. Remaining in the shadow world too long, or using her ability too frequently, drained her. After prolonged battles, such as the fight between her and Dawyn, she was forced to rest for a long period of time. Her endurance had grown over the years from frequent use, but she knew her limits. If she fell unconscious in the shadow world, she would die, for she knew of no others who could enter the place, let alone find her if they could enter.

  After a brief journey through the cold, damp tunnels, she arrived at a large open chamber. It was furnished only with two sleeping bags and a pair of wooden benches, while a lonely cooking pot filled only with a metal spoon sat next to the fire pit. A chest containing crude medical supplies, such as bandages, lay against one wall, next to a pile of wood which she had chopped. As Bridgette looked around, she saw Lord Garik lying atop one of the sleeping bags. The fire had almost burned down completely, but still emitted the wisps of smoke that had alerted her to his presence in the cave. Bridgette cleared her throat.

  Lord Garik’s eyes snapped open and he sat up from his cot. His good hand clutched his dagger and he held the blade out in front of him as he sat. At last his eyes focused on Bridgette and he lowered the blade, relaxing. “Oh, Bridgette, you’ve returned. Good. Did you have any trouble killing the king?”

  “Yes, I did have trouble,” Bridgette replied as she began walking forward. “I failed to kill the king.” She stopped only a few paces from Lord Garik. She did not draw her blades yet - there would be time for that soon enough.

  Lord Garik frowned. “You failed? Then why did you return? You were to kill him - you would not return unless he were dead. Did someone else kill him?”

  “The king is alive and well,” Bridgette said. “I no longer serve you, Garik,” Bridgette felt liberated calling him by his name alone, and not his self-bestowed title. “I have been freed from my bonds of servitude by the king, and am here to deliver justice to you.”

  “Justice?” Garik asked. “You mean murder.” He raised his dagger again, pointing it toward her.

  “I mean justice, for all of your crimes against humanity. For the thousands you killed or sentenced to death, for what you did to me, and others. There will be no trial, no magistrate will hear your lies. I am your judge, jury and executioner, and I find you guilty.”

  Garik laughed, a big belly laugh which echoed through the cavern. “Oh my, how you have grown. Why, I remember when I first saw you, a scared young woman knowing next to nothing about the world. I took you under my wing, showed you the way of the world. I showed you mercy, and made you a woman. Does our past mean nothing to you?”

  “Mercy?” Bridgette asked incredulously. “Was it mercy that left me hanging upside down to bleed out on the floor of your cellar? Was it mercy when you had your way with me over and over again, night after night? Was it mercy when you had me whipped and cut every day for countless days?”

  “Yes,” Garik said. “It was a mercy because I did not kill you. You are alive today solely because of my mercy.”

  Bridgette glared. “You have no idea how many nights I stood there, begging for death. Every day, I hoped you would kill me, end my torture. No, what you did was not mercy - killing me would have been mercy. But I have grown since then, Garik, and I defy you now. Your time is at an end.” Without further words, Bridgette undid her cloak, letting it fall to the ground. She drew her daggers from her sheathes and began moving toward Garik.

  Garik stood unsteadily, his own dagger still held in his hand. He was weak from inactivity during the past several months, his face gaunt and his body frail. He held his severed arm up, as if ready to punch with it. Bridgette, in contrast, trained every day, as she had been taught during her instruction by Garik.

  As Bridgette came within striking distance of Garik, the man struck out first. He darted forward with his dagger, slashing, aiming to spill first blood.

  Bridgette parried the blow with her own dagger, while blocking his unhanded arm with her own bracer-clad forearm. Taking a step back, she lifted her leg and kicked, knocking the dagger from Garik’s good hand. Without waiting for him to move, she stepped forward and grappled with him. Wrapping her arm around his through, she held a dagger to it, causing him to cease struggling.

  “Tell me why,” Bridgette asked through gritted teeth. “In the last moments of your life, just tell me why.”

  “Why what?” Garik gasped.

  “Why did you take me? Why couldn’t you just leave me there? Why did you torture me how you did? I was just an innocent girl. You could have left me there, or had your men rape me and left me if you wanted, but you took me - why?”

  “You reminded me of my…daughter,” Garik rasped. “She died when she was young. I thought to replace her with you.”

  “I pity the girl,” Bridgette said. “To have you as a father, it was a mercy that she died. May God damn you to eternity in Hell.”

  While one hand held him in place, she stabbed in the flesh beneath his ribcage, aiming up and piercing his heart. His eyes grew wide and breath left him. Pulling back the dagger, Bridgette released Garik and watched him fall to the ground, feeling no pity. The former Lord Garik, scourge of the kingdom, king of assassins, tormentor of Bridgette, was dying.

  After the light faded from Garik’s eyes and they became glassy, Bridgette rummaged through his belongings. She took all of his gold, daggers and throwing knives. She took the golden key that belonged to his lock box hidden in Henry’s Crossing, his garrote and lock picks. Lastly, she took his canteen.

  Exiting the cave, Bridgette let out a heavy sigh. As the sunlight streamed through the trees and warmed her, she felt her heart warming. For the first time in over two decades, she felt able to breathe freely, as if a large weight had been lifted from her chest. The whole world lay before her - a
nd the slave master who had kept her down would never again bother her. Walking up the ridge, she located her horse and rode northeast, back toward Tar Ebon. She had two men to see.

  Chapter 26 - Glory of Death

  The clanking of the gates echoed down the hall as Boris and his team of gladiators waited. The tunnel stank of urine, blood, sweat and tears. It was a smell he had come to associate with the arena - with the fight for life and death that he had fought so often in the past couple months. He had succeeded in every fight thus far, much to Darin’s chagrin. It seemed to Boris that every time he walked down the tunnel victorious, Darin glared all the more at him. Boris kept expecting a blade in the dark, and to never wake, but was constantly surprised when he woke each day.

  Clarence cleared his throat. “So, do you think we’ll win?”

  “I always think I’ll win,” Boris said. “To do otherwise is to undermine my confidence and hasten my demise. You would do well to adopt the same mindset, Clarence.”

  Andrey grunted. “You are an optimistic fool, Boris. Thinking you will win will not stop an axe from splitting your skull if you slip up.”

  “You have your beliefs, Andrey,” Boris replied, “and I will have mine. We will see soon enough whose philosophy is best.”

  “Silence,” Valentin barked. “I grow weary of your bickering. Get ready for the fight. Charge them and we can overwhelm them before they are prepared.”

  A dozen other gladiators stood behind Boris, stepping from foot to foot impatiently. This was the first time the group of gladiators had fought together as one. This group represented the better half of the gladiators under Victor’s ownership. Rumor had it that a great deal of money was riding on this match, perhaps even the continuing existence of House Helgstad’s gladiatorial operations.

  Boris checked his gear once more, ensuring the short sword at his side came cleanly from his scabbard, that the strap holding the shield to his arm was secure and that the two javelins attached to his back were not stuck. Each gladiator had been given the same standard issue equipment, supposedly to keep things even and fair, though how a slave sport could be considered fair was beyond Boris’ understanding.

 

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