Shadow

by Christi J. Whitney

  I can’t.

  My lips froze, barely touching hers, and my body went tight.

  ‘I can’t.’

  Zara’s lips swept over mine again, and she murmured softly. ‘Yes, you can.’

  Her hand stroked the outer edge of my wing, and the sensation snapped me back to reality. I lifted my head and pulled back. Zara’s eyes fluttered open, and she looked at me in surprise.

  ‘You want to, don’t you?’ she asked, blinking slowly.

  The warmth of her lips – tinged with the taste and smell of sugared cherries – still lingered on mine, and I had to look away. ‘It’s not that,’ I replied, reining in my senses and taking a cleansing breath. ‘You’re very beautiful, Zara.’

  She smiled, but I could see the slight narrowing of her eyes as she tried to ascertain the meaning behind my words. Then her expression shifted to one of understanding. ‘So who is it, then?’ she asked, looking at me with a steady gaze. ‘Who is she?’

  My carefully crafted expression nearly crumbled. Karl knew how I felt about Josephine, and Francis suspected. I couldn’t afford any more than that. If I was ever going to put my feelings in their proper place, then I had to make sure that no one else ever found out.

  ‘Guardians can’t have relationships, Zara,’ I replied slowly.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘That sounds like something Karl would say.’ The Gypsy girl rolled her eyes. ‘God, he used to bore us to tears around the campfire with all his stories from the old country and those fairy tales from his books.’ Her voice had taken on a sarcastic lilt. ‘But what does he know? After all, we are taught that guardians don’t exist anymore. But here you are. So, why don’t you just lighten up a bit, Sebastian?’ Her hand found its way to my chest. ‘I’m not looking for anything serious, if that’s what you’re afraid of.’

  Zara was quite convincing – in her own way. And her scent was very inviting. I studied her hand as it rested on my chest. ‘That’s not what I’m afraid of.’ I looked up, feeling completely conflicted and yet absolutely certain that – no matter what – I couldn’t allow anyone else into my life. ‘It just wouldn’t be right. I’m sorry.’

  Zara looked stunned. Her icy blue eyes widened for a moment. Then her hand slid from my chest, her fingers rippling across the contours of my shirt. She fumbled with one of the gold bracelets at her wrist – the first awkward gesture I’d seen from her. ‘Well, I suppose I should thank you for being honest with me,’ she replied in a tone that was more awed than upset. ‘Even if I do think you’re missing out on something good.’ Her sly smile was back in place. ‘But if you change your mind …’

  I smiled back. ‘You’ll be the first to know.’

  I couldn’t be certain if she was convinced or not, but it no longer mattered. The moment had passed. She took my arm and spun me towards the small roller coaster. ‘Well, come on, gray boy,’ she smiled. ‘We’re missing all the fun!’

  ‘Now that’s one ride I never get tired of,’ Francis remarked as he plopped down on the metal bench next to me. ‘I mean, it’s no five-star coaster or anything, but it’s got some serious kick. You could lose your lunch on that.’

  I watched the cars whiz by on the track in front of us, all trimmed with red and yellow flashing lights. ‘It looks pretty impressive,’ I said. ‘Too bad I couldn’t fit in the seat.’

  Francis chuckled. ‘Yeah, sorry about that.’

  ‘They just don’t design shoulder restraints for people with wings. I may have to report this carnival to the Gargoyle Bureau of Investigations.’

  The Romany twin glanced sideways at me. ‘Sounds pretty serious.’

  ‘Oh yeah. They could shut this whole place down. It’s discrimination, you know.’

  In truth, I hadn’t minded opting out of the ride. After what happened with Zara, I needed a little breathing room. My heart picked up speed when I thought about the brief kiss – and the guilt stabbing me in the middle of the chest when I’d touched her lips. Thankfully, Zara didn’t seem to hold anything against me. I liked Francis and his group, and I didn’t want anything ruining the few friendships I had in the camp.

  Francis leaned back, spreading his arms across the top of the bench. ‘Man, I can’t believe we’re about to open the Circe. It feels like we were just in Sixes. Time flies, right?’

  ‘If you say so.’

  It felt as if I’d been here for months, moving through my routine like a ghost – one who saw the world around him, but couldn’t take part in it. Not that I was complaining. I’d definitely take an uneventful day over one with rogue chimeras or bullying Marksmen. But the more time I had on my hands, the more I questioned things.

  Doubted things.

  ‘So what went on with Zara tonight?’ asked Francis.

  ‘Nothing,’ I replied automatically.

  ‘Didn’t sound like nothing to me. Zara said you turned her down.’

  A muscle jumped in my jaw. ‘That’s not exactly what happened.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ Francis leaned forward with a curious twinkle in his green eyes. ‘So enlighten me. Not many men turn down Zara Stoakas.’

  I sighed. ‘It just wasn’t going to work.’

  ‘Well, probably just as well,’ Francis continued. ‘I love Zara, but she’s a piece of work. None of the guys around here interest her. We’re all old news. Every time we hit a new town, it’s sort of a long-standing bet to see how long it takes Zara to pick up some poor soul and then drop him like a bad habit the moment we pack up to leave.’

  ‘Thank you, Francis,’ I said, looking sideways at him. ‘That does wonders for my self-esteem.’

  He laughed, shaking his head. ‘No, I don’t mean it that way, man. I just meant that she’s a woman who likes a challenge.’

  ‘A challenge.’

  ‘Uh huh.’ Francis pointed at me. ‘Like you.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Come on, Sebastian,’ Francis reprimanded. ‘You’re the most interesting thing around the Circe these days, in case you haven’t noticed. You can’t really blame her for trying. But for a guy like you to turn her down, well.’ Francis regarded me for a moment. ‘That’s got to be a new one for her.’

  ‘She’s great,’ I replied, feeling yet another stab of guilt. ‘I liked hanging out with her.’ I shifted in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable. ‘I just can’t get involved with anyone right now.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess not.’

  I examined Francis’ expression. ‘What does that mean?’

  He shrugged. ‘I can see you’re leaving your options open, that’s all. You know, in case someone else comes around.’

  ‘Well, she’s not going to,’ I said before I caught myself.

  I could see in his eyes that he was enjoying unearthing my little secret. ‘You never know.’

  I gritted my teeth. There was no hiding anything from Francis Romany. ‘It’s like you said before, my … kind … doesn’t get feelings like that, remember? I’m her guardian, and I’m concerned about her well-being. We share a connection to each other, that’s all.’

  Francis pondered my words for a moment. I clenched my fists, pricking my skin with my claws. I suddenly wanted to go back to my trailer and curl up in the dark. Maybe I could convince Karl to shoot me up with some more of his vitamin D sedative.

  ‘I’ve seen the way my sister looks at you, Sebastian,’ Francis said in a quiet tone. ‘You look at her the same way. I don’t know anything about this connection stuff, but I know that look. You can deny it all you want, but that doesn’t change the truth.’

  I struggled to keep my face carefully composed, succeeding only in tightening my jaw and looking away. ‘Well, Josephine and Quentin—’

  ‘Screw Quentin!’ Francis snapped. ‘I could care less about Marks. But I do care about my sister, and she’s been unhappy for a really long time.’ Suddenly, Francis’ expression changed, and I saw a hint of the same burden I’d seen in Josephine. ‘She won’t talk to me about it, but I’m her twin, and I
know her too well. We have our own connection, you know?’ He ran his hand over his eyes. ‘There’s something dark inside her. Some pain she hides, but I can see it. Quentin eased that pain for a while, and I thought she was finally happy. But she’s not. She’s not, Sebastian, and it hurts me, as her brother, to see her like that.’

  I looked hard at the ground, trying to still my quivering wings. My head pounded, and I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers. I saw Josephine’s face in my mind. I saw the pain Francis spoke about in her eyes. I’d sworn I’d protect her, and I’d give my last breath, if it ever came to that, but that’s as far as our relationship could go.

  ‘I’ll keep her safe, Francis.’

  The park bench creaked as Francis stood. I slowly lifted my head. He put his hand on my shoulder. ‘Josephine doesn’t need to be kept safe, Sebastian. She needs to be saved.’

  ‘How?’

  Francis smiled. ‘Only you can answer that.’

  15. Ebbing Sway

  It was late by the time we’d finished testing the rides. I wasn’t sleepy, but I was mentally wiped. Lanterns and the occasional modern work light illuminated the paths between RVs and tents as I made my way back to my own trailer. I heard the sounds of a late-night rehearsal in the Big Tent, and the faint strumming of a guitar in another part of the camp.

  I paused a few yards away from the Romany home and glanced in the window. Sabina strolled through the living room space, a phone in her hand. Josephine sat nearby; a small laptop resting across her legs; her hair pulled up in a ponytail. The sight of her made my head tingle, and for a split second I considered stopping by. But the idea vanished as quickly as it came.

  Just outside the front door, two Marksmen stood guard; arrows strapped across their backs and their bows propped up against the RV steps.

  Ice churned in my stomach, and I breathed out of my mouth automatically. Smelling Marksmen wasn’t one of my favorite hobbies. I hadn’t realized how close I’d edged to the Romany trailer until I saw their bodies tense, hands drifting towards weapons. I felt the flicker of adrenaline and promptly backed away before it could become a flame.

  I had my freedom, but it simply wasn’t worth the confrontation.

  Suddenly, I felt someone behind me, and I turned fast on my heel. My right wing slammed into Karl and sent him stumbling a few paces. He made a grunting sound and several objects tumbled out of his hands to the ground.

  ‘I’m sorry, Karl,’ I said, reaching out to steady him. ‘I didn’t know you were there.’

  The old trainer chuckled. ‘Distracted, were you?’

  I refused to look back towards the window and concentrated on the ground instead. I wrapped my clawed fingers around a thick book bound with dark green leather. Two other similar books lay nearby. I gathered them up. ‘I don’t remember seeing these before.’

  ‘They’re from my private collection,’ he answered, taking the books.

  ‘You have a private collection?’

  ‘Not very extensive, I’ll admit,’ he said. ‘Just these three. I don’t normally keep them in my trailer with my other books, but I wanted to get some research done tonight.’

  ‘On what, exactly?’

  At that moment, my stomach rumbled.

  Karl’s wrinkled face cracked a smile. ‘Hungry?’

  My appetite was downright embarrassing sometimes.

  ‘That’s another thing I wanted to check on,’ he continued, not really needing an answer from me. ‘Shadowen appetites I know a bit about, but yours is a tad unusual, even by shadowen standards. If you don’t mind me asking, how do you feel when you don’t eat?’

  ‘Weak and grumpy,’ I said.

  ‘Anything else?’

  I swallowed and my throat felt suddenly dry. ‘It gets hard to think.’

  ‘You mean concentrate?’

  ‘No, I mean think altogether,’ I replied, reaching up to brush my hair out of my eyes. The air felt suffocating around me. ‘About anything. Except eating.’ My hand strayed to my chin, and I pressed my fingers firmly against my jaw. ‘My teeth ache … like they’re starting to right now, and it doesn’t get better until I’m chewing.’

  Karl frowned so deeply I could barely see his eyes. ‘I know there were several methods used by our ancestors to manage a shadowen’s behavior. Food was, perhaps, a conditioning technique of some kind.’

  ‘Karl,’ I said slowly, ‘if you’re about to compare me to Pavlov’s dog, I may seriously consider altering my dinner menu to include circus trainers.’

  His frown quirked upward. ‘Threatening an old man, are you?’

  I rolled my shoulders, folding my wings in tighter against my back. ‘Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. The most challenging thing I ever intend to eat is one of Alcie’s overcooked cubed steaks.’

  ‘Forgive me for all the questions,’ said Karl, patting me on the shoulder. ‘It’s just fascinating what I’ve uncovered so far about the Outcast clans and their system for controlling the creatures they created.’ He caught my expression and quickly added. ‘Not that we intend to do any of that to you. But it’s useful information.’

  I felt the eyes of the Marksmen watching like vultures from their nearby post, daring me to make one wrong move. I jerked my chin in the direction of a small storage trailer several paces away. Karl immediately fell into step beside me until we’d rounded the corner.

  ‘What’s so different about this private collection of yours?’ I asked.

  ‘Well,’ said Karl, shifting the books into the crook of his arm, ‘as I’ve mentioned, most of my library contains volumes on Roma and shadowen history, full of stories and tales from our past. But these …’ Karl’s eyes grew distant. ‘A few days after my grandfather’s funeral, I received a parcel in the mail containing these three books. With them was a note in his handwriting. He told me I was to keep them absolutely secret from anyone in the clans. He said I would need them one day.’ Karl paused to look at me. ‘And he said I’d know when that time came.’

  ‘How long ago was that?’

  Karl pursed his lips in thought. ‘About thirty years ago.’

  It felt like someone had released a swarm of bats inside my stomach. ‘So you pulled out these books because of me.’

  ‘Not entirely,’ he replied, his eyes shining in the lamplight with unveiled excitement. ‘But between your continuing symptoms and the increased shadowen activity lately, I can only assume this is the time my grandfather was referring to.’

  I sighed heavily. ‘Now I really need a snack.’

  Karl nodded. ‘Probably a good idea from what you’ve told me. And I need to get home. I’m going to burn the midnight oil tonight going over these pages. Most of the writing isn’t in English, and it’s going to take time figuring out the text. Why don’t you stop by tomorrow after dinner while the night rehearsals are in session? We’ll go over them together.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ I said, clutching my jaw. ‘I’ll see you then.’

  I sprawled across my bed and shut my eyes, hoping I could sleep my way out of hunger. But all I managed was a brief catnap: nothing remotely resembling actual sleep and definitely not enough to take mind off the emptiness in my stomach. Finally, my grating insides couldn’t take it anymore. I had to get some food.

  I checked my phone before stepping outside. It was just after midnight, and I decided to check the food tent first. I mentally kicked myself for not bringing food back to my trailer each day after meals. I was going to have to start hoarding after this.

  I kept close to the perimeter, walking a good pace. The scent of Marksmen was everywhere – so much so that I couldn’t separate them out. My nose wrinkled. Between the regularly scheduled night patrols and the increased guard Quentin had placed on watch before he’d left, I could barely go fifty feet without running into one of them, no matter how much I kept to the shadows.

  The sound of chickens rattling around in the nearby cage reached my ears, and I was disgusted at how quickly my body
responded. My stomach tightened and cramped, and my mouth watered so hard I had to brush it away with the back of my hand.

  ‘That’s fantastic,’ I grumbled as I neared the food tent. ‘But just so you know,’ I said to the empty sky, ‘I don’t care how hungry I get. I’m not raiding the chicken coop.’

  ‘That’s a shame. ’Cause I’d really like to see that.’

  My shoulders tensed as I turned to find Phillipe smirking at me from underneath his leather Marksmen hood. Six Gypsies clad in black stood in a line, weapons in hand. Bales of hay, stacked three high, were set up along the length of the fence, each with paper bullseyes fastened to them.

  Stephan crossed his arms and leaned against one of the bales. ‘What are you doing out this late, gargoyle?’

  I eased back several steps, very slowly, hands outstretched, as though trying to escape a pack of rapid wolves. ‘Just looking for something to eat.’

  He smirked. ‘Aren’t your kind supposed to stay away from food after midnight?’

  ‘I think that’s gremlins.’

  ‘Same difference,’ said Phillipe, closing the distance between us with deliberate steps. ‘And equally as ugly.’ His hands rested on his belt, near his knife. ‘Of course, if you’re looking for a snack, I’m sure you can find a rat or two around the garbage bins.’

  I remembered the similar remark I’d made to Thaddeus and felt suddenly nauseous, despite the hunger pangs. I summoned enough energy to craft a grim smile across my face. ‘Thanks for the suggestion. But I think I’ll stick to leftovers.’

  Phillip moved around me, rejoining the group. As if on cue, each Marksman notched an arrow to his bow and posed like a member of a firing squad, aiming in my direction. ‘How about a little late-night target practice, then?’

  ‘Listen, guys …’ I began.

  An arrow zipped by, the point catching the edge of my sleeve before it drove into the bullseye beside me. The sound it made rang in my ears.

  ‘Whoops,’ said a Marksman who looked several years younger than me. ‘My bad.’

  I felt my eyes flash. ‘Don’t do that again.’

  Heat licked the inside of my skin, and my spine prickled in warning. It was the worst possible time to be this hungry. And exhausted. I’d gotten used to Josephine’s presence acting as a calming influence the last few days. But she wasn’t here.