Minutes Before Sunset

by Shannon A. Thompson

5

  Eric

  She stood exactly where I saw her last—by the river. Her purple eyes widened as she dragged her fingers through the shadows, dissolving into smoke before reforming again. At first, she frowned, but then she smiled as she found a fluid motion in the darkness.

  I leaned against a tree and threw my senses out, letting her know I was near. She froze, and I stepped out, raising my hands up. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I said, and she squinted.

  “How do I know that?”

  “You don’t,” I said.

  She bit her lip, and the air filled with nervous electricity. She had no control. “How’d you know I was here?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Lucky guess,” I said. “I haven’t seen you anywhere else, so I figured this was my best bet.”

  She leaned her back against the guardrail, folding her arms. “Why would you want to see me again?”

  I gaped at her. How could she not know? I’d never seen her in our shelter, and that was against our ways. She was breaking our basic laws, and I wanted to know why before I turned her in.

  “I want answers,” I said, and her face tilted.

  “I thought I was the one who wanted answers.”

  “About?”

  “What is this?” she asked, raising her hands and waving the shadows around. Her voice was high, and her cheeks flushed as she rambled. “What the hell am I?”

  My gut fell. She didn’t know—but how? That was impossible. Every shade was raised from birth with basic knowledge, and, looking at her age, she should’ve already had her powers and the prophecy memorized. This had to be a joke.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, stepping forward, and she pointed at my feet.

  “Stay there,” she said. She didn’t want me any closer than I had to be.

  “Okay,” I said, holding my stance as I looked over her face. Her lips were bitten, and her eyes were red from tears. When she used her powers, her fingers shook, and she held them close to her body afterwards. She was scared.

  “Is this a dream?” she asked, her voice trembling. “It’s happened before, but it was a dream, just a dream—”

  I shook my head. “You’re not dreaming,” I said, unable to comprehend how she could be so oblivious. She had no clue what she was.

  She turned away. I could hear her breath shift, shaking in the wind. Her shoulders hunched, and her face twisted.

  “I can help you,” I said, hoping she’d let me approach.

  Her purple eyes looked me up and down, and then she dropped her head. “Are you like me?” she asked, and I nodded, mirroring her staggered movements. Her eyes widened. “You are like me.”

  “You’re a shade,” I said, searching her face. “Do you know what that is?” She shook her head, and I stepped forward. “Can we talk like civilized people?”

  “Are we people?” she asked, and I chuckled. “It’s not funny,” she said, glaring, and I stifled my laugh.

  “You’re right,” I said, stepping toward her again. She tensed, and I stopped, but then she waved me forward. Her violet eyes watched my every move until I leaned against the guardrail a yard away. She still needed her space.

  I breathed in the frigid air and shoved my hands into my pockets. “You don’t know anything, do you?” I asked, meeting her eyes, but her expression was blank.

  “Am I supposed to?” she asked, fiddling with her clothes, like she wasn’t used to them changing during the transformation. “I only learned this was real last night—when I saw you.”

  My jaw dropped. “Last night?” My voice strained against my throat. “You’re supposed to know about this your entire life.”

  “What?” she whispered, her breath stolen by the wind. “This has only been happening since—”

  “Since what?”

  She shook head, and I stepped in front of her, trying to meet her eyes. “Every shade is raised in the Dark and by the Dark with their mentors and their parents,” I said, hoping to spark a memory. Maybe she’d been separated or attacked by the Light. But she didn’t respond.

  I ran a hand through my hair. “We’re given our powers at the Naming, and we’re waiting for the prophecy.” She blinked, and I fought the urge to shake her. “You have no clue what I’m talking about?”

  She tilted her head and squinted. “You think?”

  This was not good. If she was a shade, she was a part of the community. If she didn’t know the information she needed to, she wouldn’t understand the difference between the Light and the Dark, the lights and the shades. She would be easily influenced. She had no idea what kind of trouble she could be in.

  “Who’s your mentor?” I asked.

  “I don’t have one—”

  “You have to,” I said, shaking my head. “Somebody—anybody must know you’re a shade.”

  “I doubt my parents even know.”

  “It runs in blood,” I said. “They’re shades.”

  “No,” she said, her purple eyes burning into me. “They’re not.”

  “They have to be—”

  “They’re not like me,” she screamed, and I stepped backward, lifting my hands in front of me. I didn’t need her shouting at me; my ears were sensitive enough.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “We’ll figure this out.”

  She raised her thin brow. “But this is normal?” she asked, staring at her foggy hands again. “These powers?”

  I nodded. “They’re normal for shades, not humans.”

  Her eyes widened, and her powers rose around her. “I’m not human?”

  “Yes, you are,” I lied swiftly, calming her down. She couldn’t control her powers or emotions. I had to watch what I told her. “Shades are human, just in different forms.”

  “And you?” she asked, her eyes fluttering over me. “You’re one of these shades?”

  I nodded again, my black hair brushing against my forehead. “I’m Shoman.”

  What the hell? My entire body froze. I never gave out my name. The prophecy already did—telling the naming of the first and second descendant: Shoman and Darthon. I can’t believe I just told her that. I wasn’t supposed to give it away so easily. Actually, I wasn’t supposed to give it away at all.

  She smiled, completely unfazed by my information, and spoke, “My name is—”

  “Don’t tell me,” I interrupted. “I can’t know your real name. Your identity is everything.”

  She frowned. “Shoman isn’t your real name?”

  “Of course not,” I said, bewildered by her reaction. She knew nothing of the prophecy. “I was Named—and you should’ve been too.”

  She smirked. “By a prophecy?” she asked, fighting a fit of giggles. “This has to be a dream.”

  I touched her arm, and she whipped around automatically, latching her nails into my wrist. I winced, and she glared, her powers vibrating through my blood. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” I said, cringing, and she threw my arm away.

  “Then don’t touch me,” she said, stepping backward, and I glared back at her.

  “I was trying to make a point,” I said, laying my hand out. She stared at my palm. “Go ahead; touch it.”

  “Why?” she asked, and I groaned.

  “Just do it.”

  She bit her lip, stepped forward, and, slowly, she laid her shaky hand on mine. I exhaled, concentrating. Soon, my power flowed through her veins. I could feel it—her—and all her fear, panic, and rage. She truly was oblivious. In turn, I exposed myself to her—showing the serious honesty I felt. If she was an abandoned shade, she was in danger, and she needed my protection.

  She yanked her hand back and hugged herself, shaking her head. “What was that?”

  “Proof you’re not dreaming,” I said. “You can’t deny touch.”

  “I can deny anything I want,” she said, and I shook my head.

  “Not this.” I leaned over and caught her gaze. “You need to trust me, or you could end up dead; do you understand tha
t?”

  Her face twisted. “No one’s going to kill me for hanging out by a river at night.”

  “A light will,” I said, knowing how dangerous it was to be a shade, let alone an abandoned one. Her kind was in the middle of war, and she had no idea she was a target.

  She paled. “There are more of us?”

  “Lights are nothing like us. They’re our enemies.” I strained through the conversation. “But, yes, there is a whole community of shades—”

  She lit up. “Can I meet them?”

  “No.” Because they’ll kill you for being an intruder. “Not yet.”

  Her chest sunk beneath her black sweater. “I don’t understand.”

  “You will,” I promised, grabbing her hand and allowing the energy to flow between us. She was electrifying—more powerful than any other shade I knew—yet she was naïve, and her lack of knowledge made her dangerous. How could she be so strong?

  She gaped at our touch but didn’t move away. “I don’t know how I can learn without meeting others.”

  “Because you don’t need them,” I said, my heart pounding against my ribs. “You have me. I’ll be your mentor.”