Shadow

by Christi J. Whitney

  That’s not an answer, Esmeralda.

  She sighed in my mind. There are Roma out there who are more powerful than you can imagine. They could rip the very memories of my life from me, if they choose. It’s part of my curse as a banished guardian. One wrong move on my part, and my human existence could be taken away.

  I was only half-conscious of switching to normal speech. ‘But I thought you hated being human.’

  She responded in turn. ‘I do. But it’s better than death. While I’m alive, there is always the hope that I might redeem myself. That I might, somehow, receive a second chance.’

  ‘Is that why you keep trying to help me?’

  ‘Yes, I must confess that is partly the reason,’ Ezzie replied. Then her voice tingled inside my brain. But also because you remind me so much of myself, Sebastian.

  She glanced at Josephine – my charge – with a pointed expression. She didn’t say anything more, but she didn’t have to. I understood. Ezzie pried a book loose from the bottom of the pile. It was bound in thick green leather and small enough to rest in the palm of her hand as she held it out to me.

  The leather felt warm against my skin. Something about it also felt familiar. It reminded me of the books Karl had been taking to his trailer to study, but anything that might have been engraved on its cover had faded away long ago. I opened it carefully, the pages crackling between my claws.

  There was nothing written inside.

  ‘What is this?’ I asked.

  Josephine leaned over my arm. ‘I’ve seen books like this before,’ she said, studying the pages. ‘My uncle Adolár used to have some in his study when I was a little girl. I recognize the script.’

  I stared at the empty pages, confused. ‘There’s nothing inside, Josephine.’

  Now it was the Gypsy girl’s turn to look confused. ‘Yes there is, Sebastian. It’s covered with words.’

  ‘You’re both right,’ said Esmeralda simply. ‘It is an ancient Roma book. Only those of Gypsy blood may read it.’

  I flipped through the remaining pages gently. Each one was blank like the first. Josephine stopped me at one particular page, and I felt a burst of heat as her fingers touched mine. I searched her face.

  ‘Can you read it?’

  The Gypsy girl shook her head. ‘Not really. I understand a few words, but that’s it. A lot of the writing is strange.’

  ‘What about your uncle?’ I asked. ‘Would he know what it says?’

  ‘Probably, but he moved to Paris when I was five.’ Josephine traced the flowing script at the top of the page, her brows knitted together in memory. ‘I don’t remember much about him, just his library.’

  I looked at Esmeralda. ‘So why are you giving it to me?’

  ‘Actually, it’s meant for your charge,’ she replied, glancing away. Her fingers played absently along her neck, and I could see a hint of the faded tattoo on her skin – what remained of her brand. She took a long breath, deep and filled with unnamed memories. ‘The book belonged to Markus. He was a member of the Sobrasi – a group established by the High Council to oversee the shadow world.’

  Josephine took the book from my hands. ‘I’ve never heard of them.’

  ‘Of course not.’ Esmeralda looked at us again. Her expression was as smooth as glass. Whatever emotions she’d been wrangling with were tucked neatly away. ‘The society was cloaked in deepest secrecy. Each member was imparted with a book containing vital shadowen information. After the Sundering, the Sobrasi hid them away to ensure that no one clan would have access to such power again. Before he died, Markus entrusted this one to me.’

  ‘But the Sundering happened over two centuries ago,’ said Josephine.

  A weird, jittery feeling passed over me. I knew Esmeralda had been around a long time, but I hadn’t really, really considered what that meant – for her … or for me. I blew out a sudden breath and shoved the thought aside. ‘You’ve had the book for that long?’ I asked.

  ‘I made a promise,’ Ezzie replied, looking older and more tired than I’d ever seen her. ‘And I’ve kept it faithfully. But things are not the same. I feel ties from the past rising up again like increasing waves before a hurricane. I don’t know what information the book contains, but I believe it may serve some purpose in the future, and it would be better off in your hands than mine.’ Her eyes hardened. ‘Don’t let anyone know you have it, Josephine.’

  Josephine closed the book with gentle reverence and slipped in into the back pocket of her jeans. ‘I’ll take care of it, Esmeralda.’

  ‘Is there anything more you can tell us?’ I asked. ‘What about the chimeras?’

  ‘I don’t know, Sebastian,’ she replied. ‘I’ve felt something stirring within the shadow world for months, something dangerous. I don’t know what part Augustine may have in it or who else may be involved.’ Her hazel-silver gaze switched to Josephine. ‘But I fear this is much larger than your Gypsy family knows. I advise both of you to use caution in your dealings, even among your own kin, Josephine.’

  ‘I’m going to find Karl as soon as we get back,’ I said. ‘Maybe he’s been able to find out something from his grandfather’s books.’

  Esmeralda nodded and sank into a cushioned chair near her desk. ‘Yes, I think that’s wise. And you should be going. It’s late, and you need to get your charge back to the Fairgrounds. I’m sure the Marksmen have picked over the entire forest by now.’

  ‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘But, are you going to be okay, Ezzie?’

  ‘I need rest,’ she replied. ‘But I’m fine. Now, I trust you know the way out?’

  ‘Unfortunately.’

  Josephine placed her hand on Ezzie’s arm. ‘It was an honor to meet you, Esmeralda. Properly meet the real you, I mean. If I’d known—’

  ‘That your teacher was a former creature of the shadow world? Perhaps you would’ve worked harder on your theater projects.’

  Esmeralda gave us both a faint smile then rose slowly from the chair and, with some effort, walked across the room and disappeared behind the heavy tapestry. I felt strangely sad as I watched her go – like there was something final in that moment.

  ‘We’ll see you again, won’t we Ezzie?’

  ‘I’m not that easy to get rid of,’ she replied. ‘Now, get out of here. Both of you.’

  ‘Are you ready?’ asked Josephine, turning to me.

  ‘Yeah, let’s go home.’

  Josephine wrapped her arms around my waist. I stifled a longing sigh, resisting the urge to curl the Gypsy girl into my chest. I had to concentrate. I conjured up the image of the tunnel on the other side of the rock wall – using every ounce of willpower I could muster. I felt my body growing cold, but just before I closed my eyes, Josephine’s face came into view. She looked positively angelic with her bright smile and her eyes shining with trust.

  ‘You’re amazing, Sebastian Grey,’ she said.

  And then the icy current of mist swept us away.

  Ten minutes later, we were back on the gravel road. The second shadowing hadn’t been as bad, though I’d been forced to lean against the underground passage clutching my stomach until the nausea passed. I was also beginning to feel the weakness of hunger pangs. It had been several hours since we’d had our picnic.

  Josephine separated herself from me as we walked. I studied the moonlight on the road, trying to coax my stomach into submission, until I felt her gaze on me. I looked up, seeing a question forming behind her eyes.

  ‘What went on between you and Esmeralda back there?’ she asked, searching my face. ‘It’s like you guys went in and out of conversation, and then, you’d just stand there, staring at each other.’

  ‘Sorry about that,’ I said, scratching my head self-consciously. ‘I didn’t realize it was that obvious. We can speak to each other inside our heads. It freaked me out the first time it happened, but I’m getting used to it.’

  Josephine’s eyes looked like saucers. ‘You read minds?’

  ‘No, nothing lik
e that,’ I replied quickly. ‘It’s just like talking, only without using your voice. That’s all.’

  ‘And can you do this with anyone?’

  ‘Just shadow creatures, so far as I know.’

  I could have sworn I saw a look of relief pass over Josephine’s features. I stuffed my hands in my pockets as we neared the front gates of the Fairgrounds. An occasional breeze wafted traces of her scent in my direction, and it took everything in me not to sniff at the air for more. The Gypsy girl felt like a part of me – I was as aware of her as I was of myself.

  ‘Josephine?’

  Her eyes were bright against the darkness. ‘Yes?’

  The way she held my gaze made my heart beat quicker. ‘Do you think—’

  Shards of ice prickled my stomach. An ominous clang rang out into the night. A large group of Marksmen stood in front of the gate. Some held torches and kerosene lanterns, and the eerie glow reflected off their diamond-encrusted weapons. I pulled up quickly, shielding Josephine with my arm.

  The black-clad Gypsies parted, and a cloaked figure moved to the front of the group. I didn’t have to see his face to know who it was. Even in the shadows of the Marksman’s hood, I saw the piercing black eyes and the sharp features. His inky voice filled the night.

  ‘We’ve been looking for you.’

  23. Immovable Currents

  Josephine moved from behind me.

  ‘Quentin!’

  She rushed forward, and he met her, flinging off his hood. I dug my heels into the ground as Josephine wrapped her arms around him. Quentin embraced the Gypsy girl with one arm and positioned his body in front of her.

  ‘Restrain the creature,’ he said.

  Instantly, four Marksmen were at my sides. Two grabbed my arms, and the others pinned my wings. Someone produced a set of thick straps and harnessed them around my torso. My wings crushed painfully against my back. Josephine pushed away from Quentin in shock.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded.

  ‘I’m sorry Josie, but I have no choice.’

  Metal cuffs clamped on my wrists. I jerked my arms against them, and instantly, sharp pain knifed through my skin. I sucked in a breath and looked down. Tiny spikes composed of glittering diamonds coated the inside of the metal. My purple-black blood trickled from underneath the cuffs into my palms.

  ‘I wouldn’t try that again, if I were you,’ snapped the Marksman at my left. ‘The more you struggle, the tighter they get.’

  I closed my eyes, intending to shadow through the bonds, but nothing happened. I tried again. No cold. No void. My eyes popped open in surprise. I couldn’t summon the mist. It was like there was an invisible wall preventing me.

  ‘Diamonds,’ said the Marksman on my right with a proud sneer. ‘We’re not oblivious to shadowen trickery.’

  The men yanked my arms behind my back, but my wings were too bulky for my wrists to meet behind me. I heard the clank of a chain as the bonds were connected like a pair of handcuffs and locked into place. My strained shoulder blades lit up with fire.

  I gritted my teeth. ‘What’s going on?’

  Quentin ignored me, but Josephine grabbed the tunic of one of the Marksmen who’d just spoken.

  ‘Let him go, Lucas,’ she commanded. ‘You have no right to do this. My father—’

  ‘Your father gave the order,’ said Quentin.

  His words dropped like weights. Josephine seemed to freeze for a moment, then she looked from me to Lucas, and finally to Quentin. ‘I don’t understand.’ She stepped back, shaking her head slowly, disbelieving. ‘Why would he—?’

  ‘There’s no time to talk, Josie,’ he continued, his smooth voice stretched thin with impatience, ‘we have to get inside. Bruno, take the dogs out again. I don’t want any of these creatures left alive, do you hear me?’

  The man named Bruno whistled to three Marksmen who were holding the leashes of three vicious looking mongrels. The animals were muzzled, but their eyes fixed murderously on me, and rough patches of hair stood up along their backs. The men and their dogs melted into the night. Esmeralda wouldn’t be leaving her cave home for a while.

  ‘This is wrong, Quentin,’ said Josephine. ‘Father gave me permission to leave the camp. Sebastian’s my guardian, and he’s been instructed to stay by my side. I don’t understand why you’re doing this.’

  Quentin steered Josephine towards the gate. ‘I told you, I’m following orders.’

  She planted her feet. ‘Look, if Father wants to see him, then we’ll go. But take the handcuffs off him. He’s not our prisoner.’

  Quentin paused. His face was dark against the shadows of the night. ‘Are you asking me to defy the bandoleer, Josephine?’

  Her shoulders rose, then dropped. ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Then we need to get moving.’

  Josephine glanced at me, her face wrenched with conflict.

  ‘It’s okay,’ I said, straightening up casually, though my shoulders hated me for it. ‘We’ll get this worked out.’

  When we got to Nicolas, we’d explain everything to him. I’d tell him about Anya and Matthias. Then we’d talk to Karl. Josephine continued to hesitate, and I nodded at her, trying my best to convey my thoughts. A slow, silent resignation passed over Josephine’s countenance. She didn’t resist when Quentin clasped her hand and led her through the gate.

  The Marksmen shoved me along after them. I didn’t put up a fight. I plodded between the four men, only protesting when their diamond weapons cut my skin or their grip on my wing straps grew too tight. My wrists throbbed, but there was nothing I could do about it. I’d just have to wait until we reached Nicolas.

  Watching Josephine walk beside Quentin was the real torture. I’d taken for granted the days I’d spent around her without his interference. Now, I doubted things would ever be the same again. They talked in hushed voices, their heads dipped low and tilted together, but my pointy gargoyle ears picked up their conversation easily.

  ‘When did you get back?’ Josephine asked. ‘Why didn’t you let me know?’

  ‘I tried, but you never answered your phone.’ Quentin’s voice was smooth, as always, but I could detect a hint of something darker underneath the manicured tone. ‘We arrived an hour ago.’ There was a pause. ‘Reception must be bad on the mountain,’ he said.

  Another brief moment of silence, this one more awkward.

  ‘Quentin, talk to me.’ There was desperation in Josephine’s voice. ‘Why all this secrecy? Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?’

  ‘It’s not my place, Josie. You’ll have to ask Nicolas.’

  ‘I intend to.’

  Though Quentin still held her in the crook of his arm, I saw the stiff set of her shoulders – a display of the fierce obstinacy in her that I loved.

  ‘Josie,’ said Quentin, his tone soft and disarming. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  She glanced up at him. ‘I missed you, too.’

  I forced my attention away from the couple and stared straight ahead. We were well inside the grounds, but the Circe looked different. The carnival rides, which had been routinely lit for the past week, weren’t on. Everything was dark, the lampposts, the trailers, even the security lights along the fence.

  An arrow jabbed against my back, and I realized I’d unconsciously slowed. I glared at the Marksman and bared my teeth. I may have been going quietly, but that didn’t mean I had to be happy about it.

  We took a wide arc around the Big Tent and headed for the smaller tent just behind it. The gold and red stripes of the canvas were dulled to shades of gray against the violet sky. Quentin stepped through the opening with Josephine, and the rest of us followed behind.

  An array of lanterns hung from beams inside the Holding Tent, casting eerie shadows on the canvas. A circle of bleachers encompassed the center of the room, crammed with people. Those that couldn’t fit in the seats spilled out along the sides and against the walls. It looked like every Gypsy in the troupe was present. Warning tingles raced down
my spine as my eyes swept over the crowd.

  The standing Gypsies parted for Quentin and Josephine. People murmured as they passed through and disappeared from view. My escorts stopped outside the circle. I turned to the Marksman on my right.

  ‘Where’s Nicolas?’

  For an answer, I received a thin-lipped smile. The sound of something banging against wood reverberated through the tent. The noise reminded me of a judge’s gavel. The crowd quieted, and a sharp voice replaced their murmurings.

  ‘Bring it in.’

  Amber light illuminated the circus ring and spread across a sea of eclectic Gypsy faces as the Marksmen herded me through the crowd. Rough hands forced me to my knees in the center of the open space. I found myself peering up at a long, rectangular table located on the far end of the circle.

  Several prominent members of the clan hovered behind the chairs. Nicolas sat at the center of the table, his head bent towards a gray-headed man on his right. Andre – Josephine’s circus partner – was at the far end, with Brishen next to him. Quentin sat on Nicolas’ left, and his black eyes were fixed on me. Ominous realization pricked my skin like a thousand needles.

  I was in the Romany clan’s secret court – the kris.

  Francis stood beside his mother, just behind the table. His face was uncharacte‌ristically blank, and his jaw was stiff. Josephine had joined him, taking up position on his opposite side. Seeing them together like this they looked like children of the bandoleer – calm and emotionless in the presence of the court. Neither spoke nor reacted to the chaos around them.

  Josephine’s face was carefully poised, chin defiantly set, but as our eyes met, I not only saw the fear behind them, I felt it inside my chest. Her face glistened in the lamplight as she reached for her twin brother’s hand. He slipped his fingers around hers, but his gaze remained resolutely focused on a point in the canvas wall.

  I pushed myself to my feet. ‘Nicolas, I don’t—’

  ‘Chain the creature,’ said Quentin.

  The Marksmen dragged me to a gigantic support pole directly in the middle of the tent. Metal chains were flung across my chest and yanked taut. The wrist cuffs pierced my skin as the Marksmen clamped my arms to the pole. Heat built inside my lungs, churning into a growl.