by Rye Brewer
The drugs I wanted started ended with “-codone” or “-codeine.” I pressed my back against the wall as I slid up the stairs, tiptoeing, holding my breath in order to hear any noises coming from elsewhere in the building. It seemed as though I was completely alone. A relief. I still carried weapons in my boots, but it wasn’t as though I wanted to use them.
Sirene would hate it if she knew I had killed or hurt someone for her sake.
I walked slowly, carefully, across the floor. If there was an alarm, it wasn’t going off as far as I was aware. I knew the alarm could have been silent, but that seemed unlikely. And it would probably be on the front door and windows, going off if somebody broke the glass.
I wasn’t about to press my luck. There might be a second alarm on the drugs, I decided, so I went first for the baby items. My head spun with all the options, but I managed to stuff my backpack with what I guessed were the essentials before zipping up and heading to the back of the store.
Security cameras were likely recording my movements, as best as they could. Vampires move fast, and though I was half-vampire, I was no exception. I rushed through it, moving at vampire speed. Plus, I wore all black, the hood closed tight around my hair and face, my head down as I walked down the aisle and vaulted over the counter.
My heart raced, my palms began to sweat as I scanned the rows and rows of shelves, the names of the different concoctions blurring in front of me. They were all lengthy, unpronounceable, and none looked familiar.
Until I got to a locked case, where boxes of pills sat behind a glass door. There they were. It would take only a few seconds to get back over the counter, then another ten seconds, tops, to get to the door leading to the basement. I could be out of the store in under ten seconds if an alarm sounded when I broke the glass.
For all I knew, there could be someone on the way as I stood there debating my course of action. I needed to get moving.
And so, I used my elbow to shatter the glass case. Right away, a high-pitched beeping sounded. With both hands full of boxes, I took off while without pausing, I shoved the boxes into the deep pockets of my sweatshirt.
Over the counter, down the aisle to the door.
I flew down the stairs and across the basement, my heart thudding like a hammer. For one brief, nightmarish moment, I imagined the doors leading the alley being locked—or that a police car was waiting there for me. And then what would happen to Sirene and the baby?
I had nothing to fear, as the door opened easily. I made a point of not running, but rather walking calmly from the alley and around the corner.
I was already nearly back at the high-rise by the time the lights of three police cars bounced off the building beside me as they sped past.
10
Felicity
I stepped through the portal and closed it quickly behind me, before anyone could spot the swirling energy field and come looking for the source.
ShadesRealm was just as beautiful and unsettling as I’d found it when we first visited, only the moon was high in the sky at that time of night. A gentle breeze stirred my hair, making my robes flutter slightly. And yet it wasn’t the same as the breeze in Avellane. It didn’t carry the heavy fragrance of flowers.
The beauty of ShadesRealm was a surface beauty, I remembered as I darted, half-bent, in the direction of a small cluster of trees. I had to find cover before deciding which direction to head in. There was no telling who might be watching.
Where had we come through? I hardly remembered. Think, think. I ducked behind the thickest of the trees and leaned against it, catching my breath. The mountains were in front of me, but far off in the distance. From where I stood, they were nothing more than foothills. I knew that wasn’t truly the case.
Where had they been in relation to me while we were on our way to Tabitha’s tower? I closed my eyes, willing myself back into that time. We’d been led and followed by guards, hadn’t we? Yes, and the sun had been shining; I’d admired the beauty around me.
And the mountains had been in front of me, to the right. The tower had come up to the left, after a lot of walking.
I clapped my hand to my forehead, wishing I knew more than I did. I hadn’t been in ShadesRealm for more than a few minutes, and already I wondered if I hadn’t made a mistake. What did I think I could accomplish?
I could give Gregor a measure of closure, for one.
And to myself. I could do the same thing for me. I deserved it just as much as he did, even if the love story I thought I’d shared with Allonic hadn’t lasted as long as Gregor and Tabitha’s.
If there had ever been love between us at all.
I forced the wistful, somewhat bitter thought from my head as I looked around.
At night, the chances of running into random travelers were less. Wouldn’t they be? I had to believe it. I needed some shred of hope to cling to as I gathered my courage and ran from the safety of the trees.
The memory of Garan’s veiled warning came back to me. He’d pointed out the woods surrounding the mountains and explained how many bodies were found there all the time, the bodies of those searching for a way into the mountain caves which the shades called home.
There had been such foreboding in his words, such coldness. And I had reflected at the time on how there were no hidden dangers in Avellane, that our beauty was true. It didn’t mask a rot beneath it.
Was it truly rot, though? Was there something rotten in ShadesRealm? It seemed that way, if women could simply go missing—perhaps be murdered—without so much as an investigation. Garan had been more concerned about Tabitha leaving her tower against orders, than he had about her disappearance.
Did he know about the blood in the tower? I considered this as I ran, my eyes scanning the landscape for any sight of the sparkling structure. If he were half the man Gregor was, he would’ve sent foot soldiers up to that room to investigate. He would know by the time I made my sprint through the tall, moonlit grass that something terrible had taken place up there.
Which meant he might have tampered with anything else that could provide a clue.
I stopped, hands on my knees, struggling to catch my breath while I got my bearings. What if I had come out on the opposite side of the mountains? What if I was running in the wrong direction?
I wished there was some other landmark, something I had seen on that first trip that might provide guidance. Unfortunately, the ground was flat, with few trees until one reached the woods which I assumed surrounded the mountains on all sides. A security measure.
I could only keep going until I was certain that I’d gotten mixed up, then turn and head back to the trees near where I’d come through and run in the other direction. There would be no shortcuts for me.
I started running again, my eyes always moving about me. There was no telling if someone had spotted me—at least the lack of trees nearby meant there was nowhere for a threat to hide. Only the grass which reached my waist. The odds of a shade hiding there were slim. I would spot anyone lying in wait for me.
The sight of the tower rising like a crooked finger in the distance brought tears of relief to my eyes. I put on speed when only moments before, I’d wanted to lie down in the grass and rest. It felt as though I’d been running forever. Funny, how the sight of one’s goal made such fatigue seem insignificant.
Once I was inside the tower, I leaned against the wall and panted for air. There were still so many stairs to climb, and I was so much more tired than I would’ve been had I only walked. The ability to course would’ve come in handy at that time.
I couldn’t stop the memory of coursing with Allonic from bubbling to the surface of my thoughts. Tears welled in my eyes, but I knuckled them away with fierce determination. I wouldn’t allow myself to dissolve into tears. I had important business to attend to.
And so I began my journey up the endless stairs until I finally reached the top. The air was thinner up there, so far from the ground, and it took an effort to fill my lungs sufficiently.
Dried blood still stained the stone floor. I averted my eyes, feeling almost disrespectful by being there. This was where Tabitha had likely breathed her last, and I was intruding. I hadn’t even known her.
“I’m sorry, Tabitha,” I whispered as I looked around. The place was still in disarray, as though there had been a fight. Had she struggled? I imagined so, judging by the amount of blood and how it had spread. Who did this to her?
A glint of metal caught my eye, and I bent to examine the strange looking device on the floor. I turned it in my fingers several times before realized it was a lock. It had been opened, the hooked piece of metal on top of the barrel swinging freely back and forth.
Why had the lock been used? I looked around for something which would’ve needed a lock—a chest, a closet, something in which Tabitha would have kept private items. Perhaps someone had been searching through her personal things, and she’d discovered them? It felt like a thin theory, but it was better than nothing.
Even so, I didn’t find anything the lock would’ve been used on. I wanted to throw the thing out the window, angry at its uselessness. At my uselessness.
I stopped myself in time, knowing that would only broadcast my presence in the tower.
What if there was something in the room which had been removed? Was that possible? Anything was possible, I supposed. But what could it have been? What would’ve been important enough to remove? And who was it being hidden from?
It seemed as though I had uncovered more questions than I’d answered. I hadn’t answered any, in fact. Frustration left a sour taste in my mouth as I sat on the modest bed, my head in my hands.
A lock with nothing to lock.
And blood still stained the floor—no one had been in to clean it. Like as not, Garan didn’t plan on ever using the tower again. Why would he need to? Its occupant was dead. No longer his problem.
Had he sent someone up here to kill her? The thought chilled me, made me wonder again what I was doing there. He might kill me, too, if he knew I’d trespassed on his land.
Allonic was clearly nowhere nearby. I looked out the window, gazing out in the direction of the mountains beyond the woods.
They found bodies in there all the time, or so Garan had informed me.
But those poor, misguided people hadn’t lived in the trees their entire lives. They didn’t know how to navigate through thick woods. I did.
Was I insane to consider it? Most likely. But I had nothing to lose, either. I didn’t have Allonic anymore. Strangely enough, nothing else seemed to matter very much in light of that development.
I started back down the winding staircase which ran in a spiral around the inside of the tower, wondering how many feet had traveled all the hundreds of stairs. I wondered how many nights Tabitha had passed, sitting at the window, looking out over the land, thinking of her children and her lost love. Just thinking. Unable to do much about anything, unable to take control of her life.
Then again, look at what happened when she had tried to do just that. She hadn’t lived long.
I was too deep in thought to notice the shadows which spilled across the floor when I reached the bottom of the stairs.
I didn’t see them until it was too late, until I had rounded the doorway and was one short step from leaving the tower.
Until a pair of hands grabbed my arms and pulled me forward.
“What are you doing here?” asked one of the two soldiers who’d taken hold of me, one on either side.
My heart stopped beating altogether before leaping back into action, racing sickeningly fast.
“Well? He asked a question,” snarled the second shade, glaring down at me.
I managed to gasp out an excuse I’d gone over several times during my long run. “I… was hoping to bring back a few of Tabitha’s things… to remember her by.”
“Where are they, then?”
I should’ve brought something down with me. “I forgot to bring anything to carry them in,” I lied. “I was going to go back to Avellane and fetch a bag or something.”
“A likely story,” one of them chuckled to the other, and they shared a nasty, knowing laugh.
“It’s the truth!”
“Right. You would come all this way, go up all those millions of stairs, just to go back and do it all again.” The one who held my left arm leaned down, forcing me to cringe away from him. “You’re lying. He doesn’t take well to lies.”
“No, nor does he take well to trespassers. You were already granted a visit here. Why wasn’t that enough for you?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered, frozen in terror. Oh, Gregor, I did try. Please, don’t come after me. Don’t try to save me. The last thing I wanted was a fight between him and Garan, all because I had been so thoughtless and inexpert.
“Come on.”
They dragged me between them, my feet barely touching the ground.
“Where are we going?” I asked, though I knew the answer.
“To Garan,” one of them spat. “Where else?”
Where else, indeed.
11
Felicity
By the time we reached what I assumed was the throne room, I was exhausted and filthy after the long walk through the woods, my robes were caked in dirt and covered in leaves from the few times when I’d stumbled and fallen to my knees—the last time, tearing a gash in my knee.
My not so very gallant guides had done little more than haul me to my feet and pull me forward. My arms ached horribly as a result, my knee was swelling under my torn robe, and dried blood covered my lower leg.
I was also frightened out of my mind, with a dozen different arguments racing through my thoughts. Arguments and defenses which I hoped would suffice when Garan questioned me.
Even so, I couldn’t help but admire what the shades had created millennia earlier. The interior of the mountains had long since been dug out, carved, smoothed down until an entire underground city had been created. I used to think the feat of ingenuity which had led to the City of Trees in which I lived marked the pinnacle of what a creative mind could bring to life. I was wrong.
The room, or cave, in which I stood and waited for Garan to arrive stretched at least fifty feet above my head, and the walls had been painted with images depicting the history of the shades. I recognized the hooded figures, some of them carrying stacks of books and scrolls representing the history which they kept for the rest of civilization. The memories they cataloged.
There were mountains and woods, I noted as the soldiers paraded me through the empty cave, and the robed figures who carried their knowledge inside. Behind them was fire, storms, dark clouds. What they had fled—or what had forced them into hiding. I was never quite clear on the history and even had I been, I knew that history was written by the victor. There were always at least two sides to a story.
There was no time to examine the rest, as a familiar robed figure emerged from the shadows behind an elaborate throne which seemed to be carved from the mountain rock. He walked with his hands clasped, the sleeves of his golden robe hanging over them. His dark-skinned face was unreadable.
Only the burning of his eyes betrayed his fury. They reminded me of the lit torches which lined the walls, doing what they could to illuminate the cavernous space.
“I should’ve known,” he sneered, looking me up and down before shaking his head. “Though I would’ve thought he was smart enough to send someone less important to him.”
“Nobody sent me. I came of my own accord. No one else’s.”
“Oh, please.” He sat with a decisive thump, still sneering. “Spare me your lies. I have little time for them.”
“I speak the truth,” I insisted, raising my voice so as to mask my fear. I hoped it worked. “He knows nothing about this. Gregor is just as busy as you are, if not more so. He can’t waste time on small issues such as t
his.”
“No small issue, and we both know it.” He leaned forward, though there was still a great deal of space between us.
He sat above me, at the top of a side set of stairs. He thought himself a king, as Gregor was. Gregor didn’t need to seat himself so high above the heads of those he led.
“If this were a small issue—the disappearance of a pathetic vampire-shade atrocity such as Tabitha—he wouldn’t have been so adamant in reaching out to me. He wouldn’t have taken a chance like that. And he never would’ve promised me his Knights. We both know that.”
I swallowed hard, refusing to give him the satisfaction of watching me crumble under his loathsome stare.
His sneer turned into a smile. “You see the truth of this. I can tell you do. Perhaps you’re more intelligent than I gave you credit for—albeit not much more, since you were stupid enough to trespass on our land. You know the punishment for that.”
Did I? I could only imagine he meant to kill me.
“I will, however, show mercy,” he continued when I didn’t respond, neither in word nor in expression. “You’ll find our dungeons more than adequate for someone who’s committed as grave a crime as you have.”
A dungeon. He intended to lock me up and leave me to rot.
I raised my chin, refusing to let him see me break down. I could do that once I was alone. And I would be alone for a long time, if he had his way. “So be it,” I declared. “Do what you will. I only came here to honor Tabitha’s memory, to bring back something for Gregor to remember her by. You mock their love, but it was true. I had hoped to do something to ease his pain. I’m sorry that you can’t understand that. Sorry for you.”
His eyes narrowed, his lips pursed. “You have a way with words. It seems a pity to waste such intellect in our dungeons. I can understand why Gregor kept you by his side for so long.”