Shadow

by Christi J. Whitney

  I closed my eyes, waiting for Hugo’s response. But instead of words, I found myself crushed in a tight embrace. I tensed, startled by the display. This wasn’t like Hugo. Protective, yes. Mushy? Hardly ever. But slowly, the awkwardness melted away, as did the last of my negative emotions.

  ‘I’m really sorry, Hugo.’

  ‘God, you have nothing to be sorry for, Sebastian,’ he replied, pulling away and running a hand through his hair. ‘I’m the one who’s sorry for all of this.’ Hugo leaned forward, and I thought the conversation was coming to an end, but then he sighed heavily. ‘Sebastian, before you leave, there are some things I need to tell you – things I probably should’ve told you sooner.’

  I felt wary again. ‘More Gypsy secrets?’

  ‘I didn’t want to keep you in the dark about your heritage, but I don’t have the authority to make every decision. I’ve had to keep secrets, and there are others I still keep.’ His brown eyes narrowed. ‘The Roma are a tight-lipped people, and we don’t share things with gadje.’ I nodded at his term for non-Gypsies. He’d told me as much before. ‘Our law is powerful, and we’re all bound to it – even the Outcasts.’

  ‘No offense,’ I said, my brows lifting. ‘But I’ve never really thought of you as the model of an upright citizen.’

  ‘I’m not talking about running red lights or shirking the cops, Sebastian. This is more than some simple gadje code of conduct. You obey Gypsy law or you suffer the consequences. And when the leaders of our kumpania speak, you listen. End of story.’

  ‘What’s a kumpania?’

  Hugo twirled the bat in his hands. ‘It’s an allegiance of Outcast clans. Some are small, others are large. Our kumpania stretches across the Southeast.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said, rubbing my temples. ‘You’ve told me the Outcast clans broke away from the Old Clans in Europe a long time ago and you settled here. I get that. But I don’t understand what any of it has to do with me.’

  Hugo regarded me closely, and the muscle working in his jaw told me he was debating something. ‘My parents brought you to us a little over three years ago,’ he replied at last. ‘They showed up in Sixes after being gone for nearly a month in Europe. It was All Saints’ Day.’

  ‘November first,’ I said quietly. ‘That’s my—’

  ‘Birthday,’ Hugo finished for me. ‘Yeah, that’s the date we gave you, and now you know why. It’s the day you arrived.’

  ‘Arrived from where?’

  ‘They wouldn’t say. But I do know that my parents went to great lengths to get you here.’

  I bit my lip, instantly tasting blood as my sharp teeth pierced flesh. Everything felt surreal, like listening to some sort of bedtime story. ‘And your parents didn’t tell you anything else? You didn’t want to know what was going on?’

  ‘Of course I did,’ he replied stiffly. ‘But Zindelo and Nadya Corsi move in guarded circles, Sebastian. I don’t question them.’ As I studied his expression, I realized the Gypsy world of secrets extended far beyond my limited knowledge. It had to, if Hugo’s parents kept things from their own son. ‘But they told us what you were,’ he continued. ‘Or rather, what you were supposed to be.’

  Without warning, my past opened in front of me, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for it. I covered my eyes, probing the darkness, reaching for something I could remember before the Corsis, but there was nothing. ‘Go on,’ I said, pushing past my trepidation.

  ‘Well, you were – for all intents and purposes – a 15-year-old kid. I mean, that’s where we placed you, physically.’ Hugo paused. ‘But you didn’t speak, didn’t interact. You didn’t eat, sleep, or even move, really – like some kind of statue. We were instructed to keep you in complete darkness until you began showing signs of life.’ His eyes clouded in memory. ‘It happened slowly, over the course of a few weeks, and then, one day, you began speaking and relating to us – growing up like a regular kid – as though you’d been here all along.’

  My mouth went dry, making it difficult to speak. ‘How is that even possible?’

  ‘Zindelo and Nadya have abilities that I don’t totally understand,’ he replied in a heavy tone. ‘My parents dedicated years of their lives learning ancient crafts that most Outcasts left behind decades ago.’ Hugo stood abruptly, jostling the bed. ‘I’ll be right back.’

  He exited the room with swift steps. I leaned forward, feeling the unnatural weight of my wings against my back. But they weren’t as heavy as my brother’s words, which had plummeted like rocks into the pit of my stomach.

  Hugo returned in less than a minute, baseball bat still in one hand, but a crinkled envelope in the other. He held the paper out to me as he sat.

  ‘Open it,’ he said.

  I stared at the envelope, recognizing it immediately as the one my brother had kept in his jacket pocket. The letter from his parents. My hand shook slightly as I took it from him, staring at the flowing script on the outside. My claws got in the way as I attempted to pull the letter free, and I felt embarrassed heat on my neck, knowing Hugo was watching. I unfolded the letter, took a deep breath, and began to read:

  Hugo,

  We trust this letter finds you well. In our current situation, it is neither safe nor wise to use other communication. Our quest to find Keveco’s urn has remained unfruitful, and we remain in Europe for now.

  Watch the creature carefully. The memories we have implanted in his mind will allow him to sustain a normal human existence while we are gone. But if the creature shows signs of awakening too early, you are commanded to seal him to our clan as quickly as possible.

  Sebastian must remain with you during our absence. Do not disobey me in this. To do so will mean disaster for us all. Do nothing more until you hear from me again.

  ‘Well?’ Hugo asked, searching my face.

  I rubbed my eyes, feeling exhausted. ‘What exactly is this thing your parents are looking for?’

  Hugo took the letter from my limp hands and stuffed it in his back pocket. ‘I don’t know. It’s important, and it has something to do with you.’ Bitterness crept into his voice. ‘It’s their quest. I’m just the one—’

  ‘Who got stuck babysitting the gargoyle,’ I finished.

  The edges of Hugo’s mouth quirked – almost a smile. ‘Yeah, pretty much. But it wasn’t too bad. I kind of got used to having him around.’ His lips tightened, and he grew serious once more. ‘But you’re sealed to a Romany now,’ he continued, voice heavy with resignation. ‘And I guess I’m just going to have to accept it whether I like it or not.’ Hugo placed his hand on my shoulder. ‘But I still have major reservations, and not just because of Zindelo and Nadya. Leaders in our kumpania have been growing uneasy these past few months, and power struggles are becoming more common. Prominent clans like the Romanys tend to attract conflict. Joining them won’t exactly keep you hidden.’

  ‘I hadn’t really thought of it like that,’ I replied.

  Hugo nodded. ‘Gargoyles are rare among the Outcasts, and my parents wanted to keep you off the radar until you were effectively awakened and sealed to us. Unfortunately, you caught more than just Nicolas’s attention.’

  ‘Augustine,’ I said, feeling a growl wedge in my chest as I thought about the renegade Gypsy who’d tried to prevent me from being sealed to Josephine. ‘What’s the latest word on him, anyway?’

  Hugo glanced sideways at me. ‘There isn’t any word. Wherever he ran off to after that fight on the bridge – he hasn’t been seen or heard from since. Neither in Sixes nor around any of the other Havens we have contact with.’

  ‘I never understood why you just let him go.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ said Hugo with the familiar edge to his voice that still made me stop short. ‘Believe me, I’d love a chance to deal with that marimé scum. But we’re not allowed.’

  ‘Says who?’

  ‘The High Council,’ he grunted. ‘When Augustine was banished from Gypsy society years ago, he was declared the responsibility of the Romany clan. No oth
er Outcast is permitted to interfere – with him, or with those three gargoyles of his. That’s why I didn’t want you having any contact with him, but I couldn’t do a whole lot about it.’

  ‘So that’s why you told Quentin Marks to handle him,’ I said, remembering the tense exchange between the two at the Fairgrounds. ‘And what about his gargoyles?’ I cast a brief look at the darkened window. ‘What happened to them?’

  ‘If Marks had his way, they’d be dead,’ Hugo replied, ‘But, since they fall under the same protection as Augustine, you can be sure that wherever the Romanys sent him off to, his wretched beasts went with him.’

  ‘But how did Augustine get them in the first place?’

  ‘Look Sebastian,’ said Hugo, sounding suddenly weary. ‘I see all the questions brimming in those weird eyes of yours, and I get it. You deserve more answers than I can give, and as much as I hate to admit it you’ll find them with the Romany clan. But you’ve read my parents’ letter. I don’t know what’s going to happen if you leave. You’re still so young and, like Ezzie said, you’re still growing. If you stay with us a little longer before you—’

  ‘I can’t,’ I said quickly, holding up my arm. The tattoo glared at me: red and inflamed – an unhealed wound. ‘The seal isn’t the only reason I’m doing this, Hugo. I still love Josephine. That hasn’t changed. If I can help her family, I want to do it.’

  ‘Even if she doesn’t feel the same way towards you?’

  I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly between my teeth. ‘This isn’t about me,’ I replied. ‘It’s about doing the right thing.’

  We held each other’s gaze for a long time.

  ‘I understand,’ he said finally.

  And I knew that he truly did. I felt the weight lift somewhat. ‘Thanks, Hugo.’

  I stood and walked to the door of my bedroom.

  ‘Where are you going?’ he asked, brow raised.

  I pressed a hand against my muttering stomach. ‘To the kitchen. I’m starving.’

  Hugo smirked. ‘I hope the Romanys plan on giving you a large food allowance.’

  ‘Yeah, or I’m going to be ordering a whole lot of Mongolian Beef and sending the bill to you.’ I smiled at my brother; the vice of guilt finally releasing inside me. ‘So, I guess I’ll see you in the morning.’

  ‘Yeah, in the morning,’ he agreed. ‘But try to get a little sleep, okay? You make me nervous wandering around in the dark all night.’

  ‘Okay, but only if you put the baseball bat away. You make me nervous.’

  Hugo grinned. ‘Deal.’

  3. Fearful Hope

  The morning sun streaked through the blinds, waking me from a fitful sleep. I groaned and grabbed for the covers to shield my eyes. Then, I remembered. Today was the day. I was going to see Josephine again.

  I leapt out of bed, instantly awake, and rushed to the bathroom. I struggled through a quick shower, cramming my wings into a space the size of a telephone booth, then got dressed. I fastened the Velcro straps around my torso, binding the leathery monstrosities as tightly as I could to my back. Then I shrugged on my jacket, grabbed my bags, and headed eagerly for the kitchen.

  The tantalizing smell of eggs, sausage, and pancakes hit me full in the face. James and Genella were in the kitchen, busy over the stove. Hugo sat at the kitchen table with Kris and Vincent, while Dali perched on the kitchen counter poking fun at James as he cooked.

  ‘I didn’t think it was legal for you guys to be up so early,’ I said as I dropped my bags by the door.

  Kris looked up from his coffee. ‘We’re here to say goodbye, but believe me, we’ll go back to bed when the caffeine wears off.’

  ‘Take a seat,’ Vincent said, motioning to a metal folding chair at the table.

  I readily complied, spinning it around and straddling the chair backwards to accommodate my bulky, wing-laden back. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve as the smell of breakfast taunted me. My stomach threatened to eat itself if I didn’t put something into it soon. James plodded over with a huge skillet full of scrambled eggs and dumped the contents onto the empty plate in front of me.

  ‘Growing gargoyles need their grub,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t the rest of us get to eat?’ Hugo asked, glancing over his coffee mug.

  ‘It’s James’ first attempt at making a proper breakfast,’ said Dali. ‘But we’ve figured Sebastian would eat anything, so he gets to try them first.’

  ‘Hey,’ I said around a huge mouthful of eggs. ‘I don’t eat everything.’

  ‘Tell that to my pantry,’ said Hugo.

  I grinned at James around another bite. ‘These are good.’

  He pointed his finger accusingly at Dali. ‘Ha, take that!’ He dug his hand into the pancake batter and flung it.

  She screeched as a glob of white ran down her face. ‘Oh, you are so going to pay for that!’

  Dali lunged across the counter, grabbed the sink hose, and soaked the front of James’ T-shirt. He laughed, using the skillet to defend himself. My smile faded as I felt a twinge of somber nostalgia. I knew it was time to leave – to join the Romanys and to finally step forward into my uncertain future. But I was going to miss the Corsis.

  After breakfast, we hung around Hugo’s apartment for a while, talking about nothing. I knew they were delaying their goodbyes as much as I was. My head spun with thoughts of seeing Josephine at the Circe, but I lingered as long as I could. Finally, Hugo seemed to sense my anxiousness. He stood and clapped his hands once.

  ‘Okay, time for everybody to get out of here,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a shop to open, and Sebastian’s gotta go and be a carnie for a while.’

  I nodded gratefully and proceeded to endure a round of fierce hugs and slaps on the back. Then Hugo pulled me aside and shoved a wad of cash into my hand.

  ‘What’s this for?’ I asked.

  ‘In case you need it.’

  ‘For popcorn at the movies?’ I grinned and shoved the money in my backpack.

  Hugo smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘Listen, I contacted Karl and told him you’re coming. Make sure and find him as soon as you get settled in. He’s a Corsi, and you can trust him. But more importantly, he knows more about the shadowen world than any member of our clan, apart from my parents.’

  My grin dropped into a frown. ‘Shadowen?’

  ‘Shadowen … shadow creatures … names the Roma gave to creatures brought to life from stone. To most Gypsies, your world is just fairy tale stuff. But to Outcasts, it’s an inescapable part of our history.’

  ‘Got it.’

  Hugo sighed heavily, looking me square in the eyes. ‘And I’m going to say this one more time. Be careful. Gargoyles aren’t the only shadowen out there. And not every Gypsy is as accepting as we are.’

  Before I could reply, Hugo yanked me into a hesitant embrace. He pulled back and clasped my shoulders tightly. ‘Take care, Sebastian. And don’t forget, we’re here, if you need us.’

  ‘Thanks, Hugo,’ I replied, deciding to leave the rest of my questions for Karl when I got to the Circe. ‘For everything.’

  I slipped out of the apartment and through the waiting room of the Gypsy Ink. I paused, taking in the checkered linoleum floor and red walls of the place I called home. The Gypsy painting above the counter caught my eye.

  Hugo reframed it after my battle with one of the gray figures. That had been the night I’d thought Hugo was dead. I shivered and rubbed my arm, remembering the feel of broken glass cutting into my flesh; and for an instant, I felt a pinch of doubt about leaving. But Hugo was one of the toughest guys I’d ever known. He knew how to take care of people. And Esmeralda had promised to keep an eye on the clan. They didn’t need me.

  I left the Gypsy Ink and stepped outside. The midday air remained sticky with the remains of last night’s storm. A few clouds, still heavy with rain, hovered low in the sky. I broke into a jog, leaving my van behind. Hugo would probably get more use out of it than I would.

  I flipped up the
hood of my jacket as I ran. I hadn’t packed the rest of my disguise since the Romanys already knew I was a gargoyle. Still, I felt more comfortable hiding my face in the shadows. The strip mall was deserted, but I checked for cars before crossing the street towards the railroad tracks that ran through town.

  It felt strange leaving the confines of my small world. Most of Sixes had been deemed off-limits for me since I’d turned into a creature from a monster movie, but now I was on my own, and the feeling was exhilarating. I placed my foot on the metal track. My heart beat faster. It had been so long since I’d used any of my new abilities, apart from my heightened senses.

  My balance was perfect as I raced down the railroad tracks, and my muscles seemed to coax me on, demanding to be used. I made my way swiftly through the outskirts of town, but as I entered the historic district, I slowed my pace. My eyes drifted to the bell tower of the Cathédrale de Gargouilles. It seemed like an eternity since I’d walked into the cathedral and confronted Augustine and his gargoyles. I stared at the outlines of the statues along the roof. Like Hugo and Nicolas, the renegade Gypsy also believed something was lurking on the horizon.

  I just wished I knew what it was.

  After leaving the railroad tracks, I entered the stretch of woods that bordered the Fairgrounds. A soft peal of thunder echoed above me. It smelled like rain, and I wondered if I would make it to the Circe before I got caught in the downpour.

  I heard the rushing waters of the Sutallee River just ahead, and a breeze rustled the leaves. Something twitched in my stomach. I lifted my head – remembering Esmeralda’s instructions – and tentatively sniffed the air. Instantly, I caught a scent. My nostrils wrinkled under the smell – spicy and hot, tinged with sulfur. It burned my nose. I took another whiff and, suddenly, my insides turned icy. Though I didn’t recognize the smell, I certainly recognized that sensation.