Shadow

by Christi J. Whitney

  The color drained from Josephine’s cheeks, replaced almost immediately with a strange, faraway look in her eyes. Her mouth opened then shut again. She looked at her hands, wringing them together in a way that almost made me regret my questions.

  ‘I can’t tell you,’ she whispered.

  Her words were like little shocks up my arms. ‘Why not?’

  She didn’t look up. ‘Please, Sebastian. I’m not allowed to say more.’

  ‘But there is a reason,’ I said carefully. ‘And you know what it is.’

  Josephine’s head lifted, and the expression on her face was the look of one who’d carried a burden too long. ‘Yes. Or, rather, I know what my father believes is the reason. But he won’t talk about it, and I’m sworn to silence until he decides otherwise.’

  ‘Do you believe his reason?’

  Josephine rubbed her forehead wearily. ‘I don’t know. Maybe. But that doesn’t change my own feelings. You’re supposed to be my guardian, even if I don’t have all the answers. Sebastian,’ she breathed, ‘I know it’s a lot to ask of you, especially after everything you’ve been through, but can you trust me on this? At least, for now?’

  I blinked back at her, choking off the rest of my questions. My instincts demanded I keep her safe. My heart beat faster with each thought of Josephine that passed through my head. Everything inside me knew that she was my charge – just like Josephine was convinced I was her guardian.

  Did it really matter why?

  ‘Of course, Josephine,’ I replied. ‘I trust you.’

  The trailer door opened, and Nicolas entered the room. I moved against the wall. Josephine turned her attention to her knee. Francis entered behind his father and headed straight for the couch.

  ‘So, what’s going on?’ Francis asked, plopping down.

  Nicolas looked at me, ignoring his son’s question. ‘Thank you for staying here, Sebastian. You may return to your trailer now.’ He shifted his glance to his daughter. ‘Josephine, Quentin and the others will be leaving in a few minutes. He’s on his way to say goodbye.’

  Josephine nodded. ‘All right, Father.’

  Nicolas looked at me again. In his eyes was the look of a man who saw danger in front of him but was confident that he was master over it. ‘Tomorrow, we’ll relocate your trailer next to ours.’

  He didn’t wait for my reply. The Romany leader disappeared down the hall, and I heard a door closing.

  ‘Well.’ Francis shrugged at me. ‘Guess we’re going to be neighbors.’

  Once inside my trailer, I washed my face and shrugged off my T-shirt. My numerous wing straps were scattered on the floor – right where I’d left them when I’d changed clothes after the fight. I picked them up and studied the thick, constrictive nylon. They’d become so familiar to me: part of a daily routine I trapped myself in for months. I’d convinced myself that I needed them.

  That I couldn’t function without them.

  I crushed the straps into my fists, crossed the room, and dumped them in the trash. As soon as the bindings left my hands it was as if I could breathe. Really breathe. The endless weeks I’d spent confined and shut away at Hugo’s lifted from my shoulders with each influx of oxygen to my lungs.

  I sprawled on my bed, taking in deep gulps of air and expanding my wings as far as they would go inside my tiny trailer. Josephine’s words ran over and over in my mind, and I found myself smiling. I curled a pillow under my head and sighed. I wouldn’t sleep. That much, I knew. But for the first time, I didn’t mind at all.

  11. Melted Stone

  Sunrise broke softly over the oaks and stately pines, illuminating the silhouette of Copper Mountain whose green form rose above the forest like the back of an enormous sleeping dragon. A breeze ruffled the canvas tents and pavilions. It was a peaceful sound, like the continuous splash of white-capped waves against a sun-bleached beach.

  I uncurled from my crouch, rolling my shoulders as I welcomed the morning. My trailer had been too stifling for my elated feelings, and at some point – while the moon was still high and the stars still bright – I had climbed atop the roof to enjoy the fresh night air.

  Though I hadn’t seen Quentin and his party leave, I knew they were gone. My stomach felt more settled, and the icy cold had dulled to a mere occasional shiver. It felt amazing. I tucked the copy of Much Ado About Nothing I’d been reading under my arm and rolled my shoulders again, this time stretching my wings to their full length.

  I allowed myself a sideways glance. The wings still disgusted and terrified me most of the time, but the gentle warmth of the rising sun felt so irresistibly good against the leathery membranes that I tilted them into the morning light and enjoyed the moment. I knew the sunlight would become brutal soon enough.

  Movement caught my eye from below, and I snapped my wings against my back. The traveling Gypsies were early risers – and busy ones. My alone time was over for the morning. I wasn’t keen on the thought of being seen crouched on the top of my trailer like some wild animal, so I leapt from the roof, letting my wings unfurl just enough to aid my landing.

  My stomach alerted me to the need for breakfast, and I ducked inside my trailer to get ready for the day. I picked up my phone and peered at the screen. There was a message from Hugo.

  How’s it going?

  I rolled my eyes and smirked, then pressed the button for his number. He picked up immediately.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘Hey,’ I replied, ‘You know I can’t really text back, what with the claws and all.’

  I could hear him chuckle on the other end. ‘Right. Sorry about that. So, how are things going? Has Karl been helping you out?’

  I pulled out some fresh clothes as I talked. ‘Yeah, he has. As much as he can, anyway. He’s been busy the last few days, going through some old books that belonged to his grandfather.’

  ‘What books?’ Hugo asked.

  I shrugged, even though my brother couldn’t see it. ‘I’m not really sure.’ I switched the phone to speaker and started the daunting task of zipping and buttoning up my shirt. ‘Karl just said the books are important to shadowen history, whatever that means.’

  Hugo made a muttering noise on the other end of the line, which told me he was mulling over his next line of questioning. ‘So, how are things with the rest of the Circe?’

  ‘Everything’s good, Hugo. I think everyone’s slowly warming up to me.’

  ‘Everyone?’

  I felt heat on my face, and I was glad Hugo wasn’t actually there. ‘Oh, definitely. Quentin and I are going out for a round of mini-golf later today.’ I waited for another appreciative laugh, but Hugo was silent. I took a deep breath and lifted my gaze to the mirror, studying my reflection. ‘Look, I’ve got to get to breakfast before all the food’s gone, but I’ll fill you in on the details later. Everything’s fine, honest. It’s taking a little getting used to, but I think I’m going to fit in here.’

  ‘Okay,’ Hugo replied, sounding a little reluctant. ‘Well, everyone here says to tell you hello, and to say they are appreciating actually having food in the refrigerator for once.’

  I couldn’t help grinning. ‘I’ll talk to you later, Hugo.’

  We hung up, and I finished zipping up the back of my shirt around my wings. As I stood in front of the mirror, I debated retrieving my nylon straps from the trash. But I resisted. I’d made my decision last night, and I was sticking to it. No more jackets, hoods, or pent-up wings. I wasn’t going to hide anymore.

  I yanked opened the door and stepped outside.

  I sniffed the air, detecting smoked meat and coffee. I sighed in contentment and strolled confidently to the pavilion, but as I passed under the canvas roof, my good mood vanished. People gawked openly at me; their expressions wary and even scared. One woman pulled her curious child protectively to her side and hurried to the opposite side of the pavilion. I may have been one of their fabled guardians, but that didn’t seem to matter. I was still different. And I was still alone.

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nbsp; Francis and his group weren’t at breakfast. I didn’t see Karl, either. But since I was salivating at the sizzle of bacon and the scent of meat, I headed for the food line. Before I got too far, I felt – rather than saw – a Marksman approaching. It was Jacque, the one assigned to Francis.

  ‘Your presence is requested at the home of the Romanys,’ he said formally, but with a biting tone that was unmistakable. I wondered if Quentin taught classes in the art of sarcastic conversation. Jacque’s close-set eyes narrowed. ‘Immediately.’

  I looked longingly at the Gypsies enjoying breakfast. ‘Sure,’ I replied. ‘I’ll be right there.’ Jacque sized me up with an expert eye, his broad chest bowing with defiance as he walked away. My upper lip curled back from my teeth. ‘What is it with those guys?’

  Nicolas met me at the door, seeming more relaxed as he ushered me inside. ‘Sebastian, thank you for coming. You’ll excuse us, but my family’s just finishing breakfast.’

  My stomach groaned.

  Sabina cleared dishes from the kitchen table while Francis downed a huge glass of what smelled to me like some kind of protein shake. Josephine leaned against the counter with a coffee mug between her hands.

  I paused just inside the entryway, knowing I’d never get both my body and my wings into the small kitchen area without doing serious damage to dishware or wall decor. I dipped my head and smiled as politely as I could. ‘Good morning.’

  Sabina looked up from the sink. ‘Good morning, Sebastian. It’s going to be a beautiful day. Don’t you think?’ Though her expression was genuine, I got the feeling that she was trying hard to make me feel normal. ‘Did you sleep well last night?’

  ‘I don’t really sleep much.’

  Francis dumped his cup into the sink. ‘You know, Mom, it’s that whole creature-of-the-night thing.’ Sabina shot him a warning look that only made him laugh. ‘What? I’m just saying.’

  My lips twitched into a grin. Francis seemed the most comfortable having a guy with gray skin and dragon wings interrupting the family breakfast. Sabina nodded apologetically as her son helped himself to a glass of orange juice.

  Everyone fell silent. A nervous feeling skittered up my spine. Had Nicolas rethought his decision? It wasn’t like I’d been taking courses in guardianship or shadowen fighting techniques. Unlike the Marksmen, I wasn’t trained. I clenched my hands behind my back, just underneath my wings. ‘Jacque said you wanted to speak to me?’

  Nicolas settled into a chair, and he was suddenly all business. ‘I wanted to let you know that we’re shifting the caravan to the back of the lot today in order to make room for the carnival and tents to go up. I’ve left instructions for your trailer to be located directly behind ours. It will make your job easier.’

  I breathed a sigh of relief. ‘That would be great. Thank you.’

  ‘I’ve also given strict instructions to the remaining Marksmen, including Phillipe and Stephan, regarding your activities. You have free rein of the camp and the Fairgrounds, and are allowed anywhere Josephine goes. The time has come for you to fulfill your guardian duties, Sebastian Grey, without restrictions or hindrances.’ Nicolas’ eyes grew hard – an expression I’d seen before. It made him seem ancient and dangerous. ‘You will do whatever it takes to keep your charge safe. That’s been the way of our old stories, and that is what I expect of you now. Your duty is your life.’

  ‘Father,’ said Josephine, glancing at me with a sort of guilty sympathy. ‘Sebastian’s not our servant.’

  ‘Yes he is,’ said Nicolas, keeping me pinned in his sight. ‘His kind is bound by our laws. He’s been branded, and he’ll do as we command.’ The glint in his eyes changed, and I could see a flash of fear – but only for an instant. I understood why. He was allowing a shadow creature freedom inside his camp and in close proximity to his daughter. If Nicolas didn’t believe that he controlled me, then he was putting his people in danger.

  I didn’t know how much truth was in the bandoleer’s declaration, but if I wanted this chance, then Nicolas needed to be convinced that he was ultimately in charge of my actions. ‘Of course,’ I said quickly. I pulled up my sleeve, exposing the dandelion tattoo on my wrist. ‘I’ll look after Josephine. I’ve been sealed, and I know what I’m supposed to do.’

  The harshness in Nicolas’ countenance instantly faded. He relaxed and took up his fork. ‘Good,’ he said, taking a large bite of scrambled eggs. My mouth watered as I watched him eat, and I had to stifle a hungry whimper. Nicolas finished his food before speaking again. ‘Now that everything’s settled, I’ve got things to take care of.’ He pushed his plate away and stood. ‘Josephine, I suggest you go over your daily routine with the gargoyle so he knows when he’s needed.’

  I didn’t feel things were really settled at all. ‘Routine?’

  ‘She won’t require your immediate presence during all parts of the day, of course. But I think it only fair you have an idea of when you’ll be expected to accompany my daughter.’ The edge in his voice returned. ‘I don’t want to make this arrangement obvious to the rest of the clan. There’s no need to stir up more insecurities among the troupe, especially this close to the opening of the Circe.’

  I nodded. ‘Understood.’

  ‘No one knows about the chimera in our camp last night, except the Marksmen. As far as the clan is concerned, we’re merely on alert. Everything will continue according to schedule. Francis,’ the Romany leader continued, ‘your mother and I are heading into town to purchase supplies, so I’m leaving the overseeing of the setups to you.’

  ‘Yeah, no problem, dad,’ his son replied. ‘I’m on it.’

  Francis barreled out of the trailer. Sabina wiped her hands with a dishtowel and brushed by her husband on her way out the door.

  ‘We’ll be back this afternoon, Josie,’ said Nicolas, kissing her forehead.

  I stood straighter, trying to look as professional as I thought a teenage gargoyle could. Nicolas’ gaze lingered on my tattoo, as if assuring himself of my branding, and then he hurried out the door.

  ‘He’s scared of you,’ Josephine mused softly, watching him through the window.

  ‘You think so?’

  She seemed surprised by my answer. ‘Of course, Sebastian. Who wouldn’t be?’

  I pondered this, trying to view myself through Nicolas’ eyes. I thought of myself as a hideous freak, maybe, but not as someone who was actually dangerous. Josephine, like her brother, seemed oblivious to the other Gypsies’ fears, but I noticed her conflict each time she observed my unusual features. ‘I guess I just don’t really see myself that way.’

  Josephine regarded me steadily, regretful concern radiating from her eyes. ‘I’m sorry for the way my father treats you sometimes,’ she said. ‘He’s got a lot on him right now.’

  ‘You don’t need to apologize, Josephine.’ I grasped the table with one hand. I was starting to feel the effects of not eating breakfast. My teeth throbbed against my gums as I inhaled a trace scent of eggs and cheese. ‘I am marked, after all. Apparently it’s pretty standard procedure.’

  My last comment was rewarded with one of my favorite smiles – the one that was crooked and caused her lips to pucker. ‘Yeah, I know,’ she replied. ‘You’ve got your duty.’ There was something in her tone that sounded unsure.

  I watched Josephine place her mug in the sink. ‘I’d protect you, tattoo or not,’ I answered. ‘Duty has nothing to do with it.’

  Something in the set of Josephine’s shoulders changed, and I felt relieved at having spoken my thoughts out loud. She turned from the sink. She was dressed in casual workout clothes that hugged her body. My heart played racketball between my ribs.

  ‘Did Quentin and the others get away last night?’ I asked.

  Josephine brushed back a strand of hair that had pulled loose from her ponytail. ‘Yeah, they did.’ She sighed, and I sensed her sadness like cold rain on my skin. Then Josephine looked me up and down. Her expression changed. ‘Sebastian, are you all right?’

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bsp; I stepped back defensively, afraid that I’d suddenly grown fur or something else horrific. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘You don’t look … I mean, you look like you don’t feel well.’

  Josephine barely referenced my gargoyle appearance – just the comment about my wings and that I still looked like me. I should’ve been grateful, but instead, it made me feel worse. I wished Josephine would just come right out and tell me I was a repulsive monster.

  ‘It’s nothing.’ I leaned against the edge of the kitchen table. ‘Just feeling a little weak. I haven’t eaten in a while. Really eaten, I mean.’

  Josephine flushed. ‘I’m so sorry, Sebastian. I assumed you’d already had breakfast. Let me fix you something.’

  I was too hungry to protest. I spun one of the chairs around and straddled it as Josephine pulled out some bacon and set about cooking the slabs in a pan. My mouth watered uncontrollably at the smell, and I groaned softly, propping my head in my hands and closing my eyes. My teeth ached, pulsing with insatiable demand for food. Within minutes, the Gypsy girl set a plate of food in front of me.

  I was ravenous.

  ‘Thanks,’ I barely managed to say before I lit into the bacon. It was maddeningly good, and I didn’t stop until my plate was completely clean. Josephine watched me closely. Heat seeped into my face. ‘I’m a fan of bacon.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she grinned. ‘I can see that.’

  ‘I have a weird appetite,’ I said, feeling a little embarrassed at my carnivorous display. I noticed she’d brought me a mug of coffee. I took a long drink, enjoying the sting of heat against my throat.

  Josephine seemed to be either pondering my explanation of my eating habits, or she was thinking of something else altogether. I couldn’t quite read her expression, and I was having difficulty processing the influx of emotions. I wasn’t even sure if they were hers, or mine. I raised my brows, hoping she would say something to clue me in.