Smoke and Shadows

by Tanya Huff

  Tackle him?

  And get fired; losing access to the gate and any chance to stop the Shadowlord.

  Reason with him?

  Given how pissed off he looked, that seemed even less likely to succeed.

  The sudden brilliant light took them both by surprise.

  “Tony’s doing some work for me, Sorge.” Arra released the switch and came out from behind the light board. “I need a number of readings off this lamp.” She tossed Tony the light meter. “Go.”

  He trotted toward the set, allowing Sorge’s protests and Arra’s answering argument to wash over him. In another couple of minutes, it wouldn’t matter. The gate would close and Arra could even let the DP think he’d won. In the meantime, Tony maintained the charade, holding what looking like a light meter but felt like a battery from one of the radios up in the light. He was as far from the actual opening as he could get and still make it look real but it wasn’t far enough to escape the feeling of being examined.

  Yeah, and me wearing a big fucking shadow-stain.

  Then the gate closed and the lamp switched off a heartbeat later.

  “Oh, don’t be so Gallic!” Arra snapped. “Your lamp is fine and I have all the readings I need. Tony!”

  “Yeah.” He tossed her back the alleged light meter.

  She nearly fumbled the catch and just for an instant it looked like a battery.

  Sorge frowned and Tony prepared to assure him that he hadn’t seen what he’d thought he’d seen.

  “You are not well?”

  Okay, that he had seen.

  “I’m just a little tired.”

  “You look like shit. You should not be here. Go home.”

  Blunt, but accurate.

  Apparently Arra thought so, too. “I think I will.” Rummaging in the pocket of her raincoat, she pulled out her car keys. “Tony, you’re driving.”

  “Sure.” He ignored Sorge’s dramatically raised eyebrow and obvious assumption—Hello, gay! And she’s old enough to be my grandmother so eww—and fell into step beside the wizard. Her fingers closed around his arm. He bent it up and a step later was holding about half her weight. As soon as they were far enough away so they wouldn’t be overheard, he bent toward her and murmured, “Are you okay?”

  “Maintaining that glamour took about all I had left.”

  Tony paused as she staggered and walked on a little more slowly.

  “It’s been too long since I’ve been what I am. Too long since I shaped a world’s energy to my personal use. I shouldn’t have wasted all that power this morning.”

  He shrugged, carefully so as not to dislodge her. “Everyone has shouldn’ts. You drag them around with you, they just weigh you down.”

  They were at the back door. She patted his arm as she released him. “You’re a good kid.”

  “I’m twenty-four.”

  Her turn to shrug. “I’m a hundred and thirty-seven.”

  “No shit?”

  “If you’re asking about my bowel movements, that’s none of your damned business.” She reached up and tore a taped piece of paper off the wall. “Here, you’ll need this tonight.”

  It was the new code numbers for the lock.

  “You know, I was thinking . . .”

  Arra snorted. “Well, it’s a start.”

  “. . . if one of the shadow-held showed up to use the gate, they wouldn’t be able to get in. You know—new code . . .” He waved the paper and shoved it in his back pocket. “New front door lock. And if they didn’t know about the carpenter’s door . . .” Fuck. “Except it was open.”

  “I closed it behind me.”

  “Okay, then. They couldn’t get in, so they could still be out in the parking lot.” He threw open the door. The sun had come out, puddles sparkled, and a pair of pigeons stared up at him with vapid avian indifference. “Or not.”

  “Or they could be returning to their car,” Arra allowed. “You’d better run and check. I’ll follow as fast as I can.”

  “Yeah, but . . .”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll be better if I can kick shadow ass.”

  “But you look . . .”

  “Go!”

  So he went. The pigeons took flight, their shadows trailing earthbound behind them.

  There were half a dozen vehicles in the parking lot and an unshaven man in damp, rumpled clothes about to get into one of them.

  “Hartley!”

  The boom operator didn’t even look up. Fortunately, the car locks seemed to be giving him a little trouble.

  “Hartley! Wait up, man. I got to tell you about the really weird thing that just happened inside!”

  That got his attention. He glanced up just as the locks thunked down. “Weird thing?”

  All the hair lifted off the back of Tony’s neck. Oh, yeah, definitely shadow-held. He jogged to a stop beside the car, let his backpack slide off his shoulder, and forced a smile. “Buzzy shit and then it got dark and then there was music. Bad eighties power rock.” He dropped the pack by the back tire, played a couple of air guitar riffs and decided, as Hartley’s eyes narrowed, that maybe the music was a bit over the top.

  “You see me.”

  Or maybe it wasn’t the music at all.

  “Of course I see you. Duh. You’re standing right there.”

  Actually, he didn’t blame shadow-Hartley for growling and grabbing. That line hadn’t worked the first time and this time, even he didn’t believe it. This time, however, he was ready for the grab. As Hartley’s fingers closed around his jacket, he threw himself backward. They hit the ground together and Tony rolled the older man to the bottom.

  “You cannot hold me.”

  He tightened his grip on skinny wrists. “Bet?”

  The shadow began to separate.

  “Arra!” She had to be in the parking lot by now, but he couldn’t see her. The car was in the way.

  The shadow was now a distinct shape, rising up out of Hartley toward him. If he let go, it would suck back in and make a break for it. If he didn’t . . .

  If I bash his head against the ground, could I knock him out? Unlikely. And he’d have to let go to do it.

  “Arra!”

  Six inches. Four. He wasn’t . . . He couldn’t . . . If it touched him . . . Releasing his grip, he scrabbled backward on his hands and knees, down the length of Hartley’s legs until he slammed up against the open car door.

  Only a short strand of darkness connected the shadow to the boom operator.

  It surged against that last restraint. Snapped it. Slid along Hartley’s prone body. Flowed down over his legs. Connected Hartley’s shadow to Tony’s as Tony flung himself up and into the car.

  As Tony crawled as fast as he could across the bench seat, reaching for the handle on the passenger side, he could feel it still moving along his shadow, using it as a safe path through the midday sun. Then cold air caressed his ankle and he bit back a scream. They could move faster than this. They could move faster than Henry. It was toying with him.

  Arra could taste blood in the back of her mouth as she forced herself over the last few meters to the car. What the hell had she been thinking this morning? Right. She hadn’t been thinking. She’d been reacting. She’d been stupid. Careless.

  She tripped over a groaning body, glanced down to see the boom operator as she slammed against the trunk of the car, and saw the shadow slip off his lower legs. No time to recover. One hand bracing herself against the warm metal, she sucked air in and breathed out the incantation. Sucked in air. Breathed out incantation. Her pulse was pounding so hard in her temples she couldn’t even hear her own voice, but it didn’t matter. She could say this particular incantation in her sleep. Had.

  Sucked in air. Staggered forward. Finished incantation.

  Dropped to her knees, looked up to see Tony staring down at her from the front seat of the car. She blinked and managed to focus. Recoiled a little as the taint rolled over her strong and dark. Relaxed as that was all she felt.

  “Arr
a?”

  “I’m fine. You?”

  “Fine.”

  He looked terrified, but considering the alternative, that was close enough to fine. She dropped to her knees beside Hartley’s writhing body as Tony got out of the car, and worked a thermos out of the backpack. “You need to get some of this down him.”

  When he reached for the thermos, she clutched it close and glared. “Get your own, this one’s mine.”

  The vodka helped.

  “Get as much of it into him as you can, then get him into his car and get the bottle out of the glove compartment and put it in his lap.”

  “How do you know he has a bottle in the glove compartment?”

  She took another long comforting drink and shrugged, the warm car against the back almost making up for the gravel digging into her butt. “People talk. Next person out will find him, assume he went on a bender, and deal.”

  “I never knew.”

  “The one thing alcoholics excel at is hiding; hiding what they are, what they do, what it’s doing to them.”

  “But right now he’s okay?”

  About to snap out something rude, Arra took a closer look at Tony’s face and reconsidered. He honestly cared. “Probably.” It was the closest to reassurance she could manage, but it seemed to be enough. She watched as Tony handed the last cup of potion to Hartley and let him drink it himself, watched him help the boom operator into the front seat, watched him lean in, and saw him emerge a moment later with a set of car keys that he dropped and kicked under the car. She winced as he slammed the door. Everything had gone a little fuzzy and she was beginning to get remarkably cold.

  The vodka was good, though.

  Tony’s shadow stopped about a quarter inch from her leg. She looked up to see Tony looking down at her.

  “We should go.”

  She snorted as he took her thermos and screwed the cap back on, his shadow waiting impassively for him to finish. “I should have gone a long time ago.”

  Arra wasn’t exactly a dead weight as Tony helped her into the passenger seat of her car, but she wasn’t light either. Not muscular, but solid. Heavier than she looked. He thought about making a “weight of the world” crack, but the smell of vodka combined with the distinctly lighter thermos decided him against it.

  Besides, if anyone was holding the weight of the world, it was him.

  Like she keeps saying . . . He fastened her seat belt, closed the door, and walked around to the driver’s side. . . . it’s not even her world.

  If not those exact words, something like that.

  As he pulled out of the parking lot, she unscrewed the thermos and took another drink. He thought about protesting, but figured the alcohol was more legal in her than in an unsealed container—just in case.

  Traffic was light heading back into the city. He could feel her watching him, but he kept his eyes on the road. Still, the watching reminded him of something.

  “Arra? You said you were there last night, watching in the soundstage, because you needed to know. What did you need to know?”

  He started to think she’d fallen asleep by the time she answered. “I needed to know if you’d fight without me.”

  “Oh.”

  He fought the urge to speed up as another car pulled out to pass and then slowed to let it back into the lane. Easy enough to fight without you, he said silently. You’re not fighting! Then he frowned and remembered how she’d looked at the back door, and how she’d made it to the parking lot and, running on empty, had still vanquished the shadow.

  Maybe there was more than one fight going on.

  Thirteen

  LAID OUT fully clothed on her bed under a fuzzy blanket stamped with a Hilton Hotel imprint, Arra muttered an incoherent protest and immediately went to sleep. Both cats made wide circles around Tony, then leaped up onto the bed and settled on either side of the wizard, matching glares and lashing tails making it quite clear they thought he had no business being there.

  Which, he supposed, he didn’t.

  On the other hand, he had a strong feeling he had to stay hidden. Remembering the feeling of being watched as he stood under the gate, he could only hope that the whole shadow-stained thing wasn’t equivalent to a big neon sign—In case of invasion break this guy. And there were still three shadows on the loose. Arra’s apartment felt safe.

  His stomach growled.

  Ears saddled, Zazu growled an answer.

  Because he didn’t feel right about raiding Arra’s fridge, he slipped her keys into his pocket and headed out looking for food. The hall was empty. He moved quickly and quietly toward the elevator. The general paranoia might be undefined, but this, this was specific. The last person he wanted to explain himself to was Julian-from-across-the-hall as he had a strong suspicion that Julian would consider three visits grounds for assigning chores.

  The elevator gave him a few bad moments, the word “weak” repeating itself over and over in his head. Weak? Trapped, I could understand. He squinted around the tiny, brightly lit space made even more claustrophobic by all the highly polished surfaces. Still, given the way eau de disinfectant seemed to be replacing a good part of the oxygen, maybe weak wasn’t that surprising.

  Crossing the co-op’s lobby gave him no problems.

  He paused on the threshold, strangely unwilling to step outside.

  Three mountain bikers rode by closely followed by a skateboarder and two preteens on in-line skates. It was the kind of early spring day that made Vancouverites, who conveniently forgot the 250 days of rain a year, unbearably smug about their weather—winds off the ocean had blown away clouds and pollutants and the sun shone brilliantly down through a crystal clear sky. Micas in the concrete sparkled and the city gleamed.

  No shadows, at least none that weren’t the result of a solid object blocking the sun, and no Shadowlord. There’s nothing out there waiting for me except lunch.

  Heart pounding, he took a fast step, almost a hop, over the threshold.

  Nothing happened, but the feeling of being watched remained.

  Fine. He’d grab food and he’d head right back to Arra’s apartment. Sighing at his interior drama queen, he glanced back at his shadow, still lying predominantly in the co-op lobby, and muttered, “Come on, then!”

  All things considered, he was relieved when it followed.

  A thousand voices cried, “Save us! Save us! You are our only hope!” Hands clutched at her, desperate fingers shredding clothing and the skin beneath it. She was drowning in their need. They were pulling her under. How could she save them when she couldn’t save herself from them?

  The cats were still on Arra’s bed when he returned and they stayed there while he ate, watched some golf—the one thing on television he was sure wouldn’t wake the wizard—and worked his way through five days of the Vancouver Sun. He didn’t usually read newspapers, he just didn’t have the time and from the pristine folds, he guessed Arra’s time had been a bit short lately, too. Wouldn’t want to cut into all that spider solitaire . . .

  It seemed to be business as usual in the lower mainland.

  While he hadn’t been expecting to see SHADOWS STALK CITY in banner headlines, it was weird to think he was one of only three people who knew of the danger and if he told anyone what he knew, told them that two people were dead because of shadows slipping through from another world, they wouldn’t believe him. Not without having seen the things he’d seen. Done the things he’d done. Known the people he knew.

  Eyes rolling, Tony tossed the last paper aside. Right. The people he knew . . .

  A vampire, a wizard, and a production assistant go into a bar . . .

  Fortunately, a snort from the bedroom saved him from having to come up with a punch line.

  Cats winding around her feet, Arra stumbled out into the living room, glowered at him for a long moment from under lowered brows, and finally snapped, “Make coffee!” before turning on one heel, going back into the bedroom, and slamming the door.

  Tony d
id as he was told.

  “There’s three shadows left and we have seven hours until the gate reopens. You’ve been very lucky so far, but there’s nothing to say all three of them won’t show up together and I can think of any number of ways that they can stop you.”

  So could Tony.

  “Finding them and stopping them individually before they get to the gate was a smart plan. Is still a smart plan. We need to pursue it.”

  “Are you strong enough?” There were still dark circles under her eyes and the skin on the backs of her hands looked thin and translucent.

  “In spite of the morning’s evidence, I know how to marshal my power.” Sitting at the tiny kitchen table, Arra held out her mug. “I will find them, I will destroy the shadow, and you will do everything else,” she announced as Tony refilled it.

  “Uh . . . You’ll need to make more potion.”

  “Fine! And I’ll make more potion.” She nodded toward the living room. “Bring me my Yellow Pages. But first put a bagel in the toaster oven.”

  Apparently everything else meant everything else.

  One of the shadows was at Richmond Nanak Sar Gursikh Temple on Westminster Highway.

  Holding the phone book entry in one hand, Arra sifted through the ashes with the other and sighed. “We need to find another phone book.”

  “No shit.”

  “No time to waste,” the wizard added pointedly.

  Which was when Tony realized he had to find another phone book.

  “There should be one up in the party room. Sixth floor.”

  Even better. “You want me to steal the Yellow Pages out of your co-op’s party room so that you can destroy them?”

  “So that I can use them to discover the location of a shadow-held.” She dusted the ash off her fingers. “A shadow-held that might be held by the shadow-spy that takes the information back through the gate that convinces the Shadowlord to invade and destroy your world. Yes.”