The Reminiscent Exile Series, Books 1-3: Distant Star, Broken Quill, Knight Fall

by Joe Ducie

  “Something. Something that moved so fast—and it was all dark, like a shadow. But a living shadow. With nothing attached to it.”

  Now he had my attention. “A shadow?”

  “I could feel it at university, where I last saw Soph, and on my way over here,” he said, “like an itch on the back of my neck.” He scratched at his hairline. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think it was real. I saw it, Hale!”

  “I believe you. I do.” I rubbed at my brow to ward off the inevitable headache. “Sounds like a Voidling.”

  Ethan paled so quickly I thought he might faint. He slumped against one of the stacks, knocking over a heap of Shakespeare and Austen. “I thought Marcus was just trying to scare me off. Why’s it after me?”

  I patted him on the shoulder and attempted a reassuring smile. “It just followed you to me, I’m sure. They took five years to get here, but here they are. It’s probably skulking around the courtyard, zeroing in.”

  “You don’t seem worried about that. It’s going to eat our souls!”

  “Thing is,” I said, as if I hadn’t heard him, “five years is nothing to these creatures. They exist outside of time. Outside of everything. From beyond the universe. All things being even, it actually found me fairly quickly. I thought I’d be an old man before the Voidlings even bothered.”

  “So… bad luck?”

  “Oh, always. But this feels like something else. For it to arrive now, of all times…” I gazed out through the fragile windowpanes into the brightly lit plaza, darting from nook to cranny and anywhere darkness could hide. With everything else that had happened in the last few days, the appearance of a shadow-ken could be no coincidence. “I think it had help. A guiding hand.”

  “Are we in trouble? Can I sneak out the back, or something?”

  “Safest place for you is right here,” I said and meant it. “Tell me, Ethan, have you ever used your Will to do damage? To hurt?”

  “No.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I’m telling you, no!”

  “Every kid plays with matches, mate, so give me the truth. I’m not asking if you’ve killed anyone, but shot a fireball into the ocean? Blasted a sphere of lightning at a Coke bottle?”

  “Well, I guess I may have—”

  “Good. Probably won’t be enough, but good. This thing comes at you, hit it with all the coins bouncing around in that thick skull of yours. Go down swingin’, chief.”

  Ethan clenched his fists and, for the first time, looked me in the eye. “You’re insane, aren’t you?”

  “I think I’ll go change into my black waistcoat.” I’d watched myself die in the grey one. “Mind the shop until I come back?”

  A Voidling was the broad and sweeping term for the collection of living shadows and other monstrosities that existed beyond the known realms. The Knights knew they existed. Every now and again, probably more often since the Degradation went so awry, they seeped in at select places in the world, holes in reality, and caused havoc. Voidlings were the antithesis of the written word, because they devoured not just flesh but aspects of the Story Thread itself.

  For the most part, they were mindless. Those that crossed the Void into reality did so to eat and be destroyed. They were ridiculously hard to kill because, technically, they weren’t alive, but they could be blasted to nothing with enough fire and ice and lightning.

  But, as I said, only for the most part.

  Other kinds of Voidlings existed beside the mindless shadows. These entities had intelligence, purpose, and desire, and were quite dangerous. Anyone who might survive an encounter with such a creature rarely did so intact, or with even a semblance of sanity. The thing that had followed Ethan was of the latter kind—it had to be, given its patience in the courtyard—and had stalked him to me. Clever, really.

  I’d give the Voidling the shop, but I’d have to take Ethan into Forget with me, a kinder fate, but not by much. Upstairs, I shrugged into my finest black waistcoat and navy blue necktie. The coat had a custom-made holster stitched into the lining for a six-by-nine paperback. Heading back downstairs, I plucked Tales of Atlantis, hidden in plain sight, from one of the piles of books stacked haphazardly on the spiral staircase.

  Ethan had helped himself to a sip of spicy Captain’s rum in my absence. Good for him. I nodded at a dusty glass, and he poured me two fingers’ worth.

  “You ready?”

  “Ready for what?” he asked.

  “We’re going to skip a few lessons in your education, Mr. Reilly. But we’ll have to act fast. As soon as that thing outside senses a drop of Will from either of us it’ll attack, for no other reason than its hunger.” My ward enchantments were useless against the Voidling’s power, and after all the time away from Forget, I wasn’t sure if I still had the strength to fight it.

  “Okay, but what about Sophie?”

  My first thought was an unkind one. My second, somewhat worse. I had no reason to think she was already dead, not based on the evidence, but with a Voidling on the loose, her chances were slim. Ethan must have read the look on my face. He moaned.

  “Sophie can take care of herself,” I said.

  “I’m not going with you if she’s in trouble,” he said, swallowing hard. “I came to you for help. But if you’re just going to run, then I-I’ll find her, by myself.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “What?”

  “Do what you like. Come with me or don’t, Ethan. You’re more than free to make your own choice—”

  There was a pounding on the shop door. I glanced over, startled, and it was my turn to moan. Clare Valentine stood just beyond my invisible ward line, unable or unwilling to cross it without permission. Probably unable. Behind her were a half-dozen grim-faced men and women in long grey cloaks, a retrieval squad of Knights Infernal, unless I missed my guess.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Trouble.”

  I tapped the book concealed in my coat thoughtfully for a moment. Could I still flee? Of course, but to leave Clare to the Voidling… I wasn’t that far gone.

  “Go flip the sign over, would you, Ethan.”

  “What about—?”

  “Trust me.”

  He did as he was told. I knocked aside an ashtray and tiny ceramic pipe atop my sales counter, and then assumed a casual position seated atop it. The Tales of Atlantis I slipped from my holster and into a stack of cheap romance paperbacks. To be caught with that, even by Clare, would be to sign my own death warrant.

  As soon as the wards were down Clare stepped inside and motioned her six followers to wait outside. She glanced at Ethan, no doubt sensing the sloppy shield around his Will, and moved between Sci-Fi and General Fiction to keep both Ethan and me in view.

  “Hello, Declan.”

  “Hello, Clare.”

  “You know why I’m here?”

  “Of course. I’m to be arrested for breaking the conditions of my exile.”

  Clare bit her lip. “I’m sorry. Faraday’s orders.”

  “Quite all right, sweet thing.” I picked up a tape gun from the counter and held down the flaps on a delivery box. “For what it’s worth, I think we’ve both been set up by powers unseen. No matter. I was just about to pay the faux king a visit, anyway.”

  “Declan, are you mad? Run, run now. Any Knight will arrest you on sight. Christ, that’s why I’m here! When we bring you in, Faraday will have you executed. He’s forcing you out.”

  “I got me some bigger problems, Clare.”

  “Like what?”

  I frowned. “Like trying to find the start of this goddamn roll of tape.”

  “I said we should run…” Ethan mumbled, casting nervous glances at the open door.

  The Voidling was doing what its kind did best. Waiting in the shadows. As soon as someone used their Will, it would attack and latch onto the energy like two magnets snapping together. At its most powerful, it would feed. The thing that had come to kill me was now my secret weapon… but still Clar
e’s enemy.

  “And no, I’m not mad,” I said. “Merely tired. Frustrated. Cast aside and discarded. Exiled beyond the Final Vanguards, no? All just for show. To keep the people happy and subdued. Give them someone to hate.” I slowly let out my breath. “Clare, there’s a Voidling hiding in the courtyard outside.”

  She blinked. “You’re bluffing.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No,” Ethan interjected, and then wished he hadn’t when Clare scrutinized him. “I saw it. It followed me here.”

  “And who are you in all of this?”

  “Clare, Ethan. Ethan, Clare. He’s got the talent.”

  One of Clare’s entourage stepped into the shop. A tall, grizzled man that reminded me of Marcus. He rested his hand on the pommel of a curved sword concealed by his cloak and glared something akin to pure, crude hatred at me. The crest on his cloak marked him as one of the feared guards of Starhold, the Forgetful prison. I offered him a winning smile.

  “What’s the delay, Valentine?”

  “Arthur,” said Clare, “Hale says there’s a Voidling in the courtyard.”

  The big man snorted. “Right. And I’m the next High King of Atlantis. Come off it. He’ll say anything. Do you know how unlikely it is a Voidling crossed into True Earth?”

  I didn’t have to say anything. My new friend Arthur was about to play his part in this impromptu script all too well. He produced a set of star iron manacles, inscribed with runes in the Infernal language. My, my… I warranted the highest honors. Those manacles suppressed Will and placed a blanket of crushing fatigue upon whoever was unlucky enough to wear them.

  “Don’t try and resist, exile.”

  “Arthur, wait—” Clare interrupted. Her eyes flashed from emerald green to a fierce and fiery red. She believed me about the Voidling, but it was too late.

  Arthur tapped his Will and I did nothing to stop him. The runes on the manacles began to glow. They sprang open at the same instant an unholy and soul-wrenching screech reverberated across the courtyard. All of the windows along my storefront imploded in a hail of jagged shrapnel.

  I was already moving. As Ethan cursed and Clare dived toward me, I stepped forward and raised a hand against the thousands of tiny missiles. A whispered thought and a cone of ethereal light spread outwards from my palm, creating a shield in front of Ethan, Clare and myself. The rain of deadly glass shards slammed into the wall of force and shattered again, to dust and less than dust.

  Arthur wasn’t so lucky. He stood beyond my range—and was cut to ribbons. The star iron cuffs fell to the floor.

  I laughed.

  The force of the Voidling’s rage had knocked the majority of Clare’s Knights against the front of my shop. They recovered quickly, drawing books and swords bound in lines of pure story. They all looked so young out there, standing well armed but alone against the nightmare hiding in shadow.

  “It’s after me, I guess.” I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. Clare had moved to my side, as she had done so many times in the Tome Wars. She held a small dagger in one hand with a ruby in its hilt—her Infernal Blade—and in the other a small paperback. “You know words are no good against these things.”

  Clare blinked, swallowed, and then nodded. “Right.” She slipped the book away. “What’s the plan, Commander?”

  I didn’t bother to correct her or deny the title.

  “Stay out of my way,” I said, and meant it. “That goes twice for you, Ethan.” I tossed him the bottle of Captain’s and he caught it on reflex. “Pay attention, though, sunshine. You may learn something.”

  A rotten gloominess had descended across Riverwood Plaza as I stepped outside to confront the creature of nightmare. Shadows eclipsed the fountain, and the water that had been clear ran dark and bubbled up and over the rim. The substance wasn’t water but thick, living oil—a shadow made real.

  The glass had been blown out of all the windows in the courtyard. Terrified civilians scattered every which way, as the creature that had been hiding in the fountain took shape. The Voidling’s scream had toppled the frozen banana cart. Old Mathias was nowhere to be seen, which pissed me off more than anything else so far.

  The Knights did not hesitate. As one, they fired blasts of superheated energy into the undulating pool of slick blackness that crept toward my shop. I remained behind them, out of the line of fire. Doing as she was told, Clare stayed behind me.

  The Voidling kept on coming, absorbing the flame, the ice, and the lightning. These Knights weren’t the strongest of the order, not by a long shot.

  Then, the Voidling was upon us, blotting out the sun. All sound seemed to die as the Knights fought the terrible thing which grew six, then seven, then eight feet tall. It finally assumed a shape which was vaguely human, a trunk with arms and legs, but where its head should have been was an ugly, rotating sphere of dark oil. The thing had no facial features, yet I felt it look at me. It shrieked again, but the latest noise seemed just a whisper.

  Which fractured five minds.

  One by one, the Knights slumped. Some fell to their knees, drooling, while others managed a stifled cry before dropping, limp, to the cobblestones. Such was the power of the abstract—of the Void. It had gotten close enough to work its vicious influence and would soon devour not only flesh but souls.

  I heard Clare mumbling incoherent nonsense behind me. She gripped my arm, and her eyes, distant and dusty, were the color of old paper. I turned back to the Voidling, pulled myself free of Clare, and stepped in front of the defeated Knights to stand before the creature from beyond space and time.

  We regarded one another for a careful moment, and then I plunged my hands into its chest. Huh… guess you don’t forget how to ride a bike.

  It didn’t have a face, just that dark orb of oily light, but I thought I caught a momentary flicker of surprise in its form as I gripped its not-heart. Good, I thought. Fear me, you son-of-a-bitch.

  What happened next surprised even me. As I tore its very being asunder, the Voidling laughed. It spoke, not aloud, but into my mind.

  “Oblivion sees you, Shadowless. Oblivion is watching.”

  I recoiled, disgusted at its touch inside my head. Its words tasted like rancid milk in the back of my throat. A bolt of wild Will rushed down my arms and burst out of my hands, inside the creature, and flames of emerald light consumed it from within. I turned away at the last moment, just before it exploded, to shield my face from the radiance.

  Just like that, the spell was broken. Reality, proper reality, snapped back into place. The sights and sounds of the courtyard, the screams of bystanders, mostly, and the gush of water flooding the plaza from the cracked fountain, came back into stark focus.

  Tapping my chin, I pondered the Voidling’s words for a moment and then turned back to Clare. She sat within a broken window frame of my shop and held her head in her hands. The Knights strewn on the ground around her mumbled and groaned, which was actually a good sign. Perhaps they had kept their sanity.

  Clare gasped as I touched her shoulder. She looked up, pale as a ghost. “How did you do that?” she whispered. “Declan, you touched it. Your mind should be soup.”

  “That’s my little secret, sweet thing.” Seeing her perplexed expression turn to actual fear, I dropped the pretence. “I got a lot more than I bargained for when I sold my shadow for some magic beans.”

  Clare stood shakily, holding my forearm for balance. “You can fight them… No, you can do more than that. They don’t affect you, do they? If Faraday knew—”

  “He’d probably see it as another reason to chop off my head. Remember why you’re here today. To wrap me in shackles and deliver me to my execution.”

  “I was…” Clare shook her head, trying to clear the taste of the Void, no doubt. “That is… I didn’t know about the star iron.”

  “It doesn’t matter now, and don’t worry, I believe you.” I kissed her forehead. “I really was about to deliver myself there, anyway.”
>
  “To Ascension City?”

  I nodded. “Want to come with me?”

  Clare seemed to get a hold on herself and stood up a little straighter. She let go of my arm. “No.” She moved over to the nearest fallen Knight and turned her over. The woman stared at the sky unblinking. She’d gnawed a chunk from the flesh of her bottom lip. “I have to tend to my unit. Please, help me.”

  “Sorry, no. I must be on my way. But I’ll send out the work experience kid.”

  I stepped back into my shop. Ethan stood staring at me with wide eyes. He clutched the bottle of rum hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Other than that, he seemed in good working order.

  “Declan,” Clare called. I glanced over my shoulder. “Try not to get yourself killed.”

  No promises.

  It was time to go too far.

  HOLD ALL SALVOS: PART II

  Destiny smells of dust and the libraries of night.

  He leaves no footprints.

  He casts no shadow.

  ~ Sandman (Neil Gaiman)

  A forgetful rose to guide him,

  The curse of a madman’s last whim.

  Crystal petals—blood, bone and steel.

  Wrath and ruination brought to heel.

  ~The Historian of Future Prospect

  After Madness, 2007

  Wrought, indeed, from words

  Rent—torn asunder!

  Islands no more, dear

  Truth. A pity, you dolt,

  Enigmatic fool.

  ~King Morrow’s Journal (Vol. VII)

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Eggshells

  The roads to Ascension City, on the very border of the real world—True Earth—and the realms of Forget, were varied and plentiful. Highways jammed with broken heroes, boss.

  Ascension City could be dived from along the ragged edge of the burning page.

  Or I could reach it from a multitude of adjoining realms within Forget itself.

  Hell, the city could even be stumbled upon by accident. The home of the Knights Infernal, the last bastion of order and law against the Void, not only brushed up against True Earth, but often times overlapped. Paint on the porous canvas ran, and the lines of reality blurred.