Magic and Shadows: A Collection of YA Fantasy and Paranormal Romances

by T. M. Franklin

  I didn’t want to do this. I wanted Ariana to live. I wanted her to have her happily-ever-after with my brother. But did I want that more than I wanted my own life? How could I possibly choose?

  Tick, tick, tick...

  The awful ticking seemed louder now. Or maybe it was just the clock on the wall doing its job. I stood in front of the clock and glared at it, hands on my hips.

  “Stop ticking,” I commanded.

  Of course, it kept ticking away, oblivious to my distress. Maybe I could take it down and smother it under a blanket. But it was too high for me to reach. Why was everything in this blasted manor so high off the ground? I knew I was short, but come on! I stalked across the room, grabbing a chair. At this rate, I would need to carry a stool with me at all times to reach anything!

  Tick, tick, tick...

  “Stop!” I howled. “I hate you, clock! I hate ticking, and I hate time, and I hate your stupid little numbers! Just leave me alone!”

  Tick, tick, tick...

  I was about to set the chair down to climb on top of it, but I was too upset to be reasonable. I swung the chair at the wall with all my strength.

  There was a mighty crash as the chair collided with the fancy clock. Pieces of clockwork and glass rained down on me. The clock fell from the wall, shattering again as it hit the floor. For a moment, all was silent as I stared at the decimated clock. Its many pieces reflected the moonlight streaming in the window, practically glowing. Then…

  Tick, tick, tick...

  The ticking in my head resumed as if nothing had happened. A clock was only a clock, after all. Nothing could really stop the flow of time as it rushed forward, carrying me ever closer to my awful deadline.

  “Please stop,” I whispered.

  No one heard me.

  9

  The next day was a blur. Micah was busy in his father’s absence, meeting with a steady stream of messengers and attending all the meetings his father normally would have. So I spent most of the day playing with his youngest brother, Adam. He was 8 years old, the age of my youngest sister, Lucy. He reminded me of her silly charm.

  Sinzy the dog still hated me. Adam and I made a game of getting as close to the dog as possible until she noticed me and started barking. Then we would flee to safety before she could bite my ankles. Adam thought it was great fun, and I got the chance to practice running in another too-long borrowed dress.

  I missed my sisters terribly. I had never spent so long away from them. As the Governor’s daughter (and then as the Governor’s sister after the death of my parents), my circle of friends had been few and select out of political necessity. But my sisters had always been by my side, even when we were at each other’s throats. Being the ruling family could be incredibly lonely, especially in the hard years of famine and unrest. But our household was always full of action and noise. My parents always said that they knew they would have many children. My childhood had been filled with laughter and love.

  My parents died when I was 9 years old. They left on a trip and never returned, leaving my older siblings to take care of the rest of us. We found out about their deaths when a messenger came to Silverleaf to announce that Alistair was the new Governor. My youngest sister, Lucy, was only an infant. Hannah and Alacia raised the rest of us.

  And now they were gone, too. If I didn’t keep my end of the deal with the witch, Alistair and Elias would be the only ones left of a family of eleven.

  So while I waited for night to fall again, I played with my young host and tried to forget that I would soon be a murderer.

  “Micah!” Adam shrieked when his brother joined us for the evening meal. “Sinzy hates Delta! It’s so funny!”

  Micah shook his head as he helped his mother into her chair. “I don’t know what’s gotten into that dog,” he said.

  “It’s all this awful news about the war in Horr. She senses the tension. I’m sure it has nothing to do with Delta. Sinzy’s a good dog. She’s just sensitive.” The Duchess picked up her spoon and took a sip of her soup. “Oh, that’s lovely. Liana?”

  Liana had just been passing by. She paused when she heard her name. “Yes, Your Grace?”

  “Would you please tell Lorinda that her soup is just divine today? Tell her I think the rosemary really makes the difference.”

  “Yes, my Lady.” Liana bowed and left.

  Bertha took another spoonful of soup. “You should eat, dear. You look so ill.”

  I forced a smile. I seemed to have lost my sense of taste lately. Was this yet another side effect of losing my soul? Or was it just the nerves? I held up my spoon and twirled it, admiring the way the light played off of the smooth, rounded surface. It should have been reflecting me, I realized. Instead it was reflecting the wall behind me. Emptiness haunted me.

  I excused myself as soon as dinner ended, claiming that I felt ill. That wasn’t exactly a lie. Micah gave me a worried look, but he was too busy to corner me and drag the truth out. I was grateful for that. I returned to my room and stared at the space on the wall where the clock had been hanging the night before. Liana and another servant had cleaned up the broken pieces without even asking me what had happened. I was at once disturbed and relieved at their politeness. Part of me was happy to have fewer questions to answer. But another part of me was also sick of the strain and tension. I wanted a fight, even if it meant picking a fight with innocent staff by breaking furniture.

  No, I had better things to focus on. Tonight I would sneak into Ariana’s bedroom and use the dagger to kill her. I would save my sisters. It would be worth it.

  And if I failed — that wouldn’t be so bad, either. At least I would die knowing I had tried to take control of my own fate.

  10

  The third night, I was prepared — at least as prepared as I would ever be. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to reach the levers in the secret passageway, I carried a little stool with me from the washroom. I kept the dagger tucked under my arm, where I could reach it quickly. My practice sessions with Adam and Sinzy had paid off. With one hand lifting my skirt, I could sprint quietly down the hall, reaching my destination without drawing attention.

  This time, Ariana was asleep. Her room was dark when I pushed the second door-wall open and crept inside. The only sounds I heard were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the steady sound of Ariana’s breathing. The only light in the otherwise oppressive darkness came from a single candle on her bedside table. I wondered, briefly, if she was afraid of the dark. Like me.

  No. Stop. I had to stop humanizing her. I couldn’t stand to think of how much we might have in common. I couldn’t let myself like her. Not if I intended to save my sisters.

  The dagger pulsed with heat as I pulled it from its sheath. A shudder of apprehension raced down my spine. Could I do this? Could I really kill this woman? She was a stranger. I didn’t know her hopes and fears, her dreams. That should make it easier to kill her, right? But Elias loved her. He loved her enough to marry her in secret and hide her from the world. Why? There were so many unanswered questions — questions I didn’t have time to ponder. If I didn’t kill Ariana, I would die. And then Avery, Bailey, and Lucy would follow in quick succession until all of the girls in my family were mere whispers of memory. I didn’t know what Elias had done to invoke the wrath of the witch. I didn’t know why the witch chose to take out her anger on his family. All I knew was that I had a rare and horrible opportunity to stay the hand of fate.

  One life for four. That was the deal. It was more than fair, right?

  The hilt of the dagger was hot in my sweaty hand. The runes carved into the blade glowed as I held the knife above Ariana’s sleeping form, adding its ethereal light to the darkness. What had Ariana done to make the witch want her dead? Had she angered the witch in some way? Did she deserve this fate? Or was she an innocent pawn, just like me?

  I raised the knife higher. Maybe if I slashed from a high enough vantage point, it would take one quick stab and the deed would be done. I knew nothing
about killing. I had never considered it before in my life. If I stabbed from above, maybe I could convince myself that it was the power of gravity doing the killing, not me.

  Tick, tick, tick...

  I heard the ticking of the clock that haunted my subconscious, counting down the seconds until I vanished. All the while, Ariana slept peacefully. She had no idea that we were locked in a vicious game. My life or hers? What a terrible deal I had struck. I wanted to turn all of my anger on Elias or, better yet, the witch. But I found that I had no anger in me. All I knew was fear. I was afraid of dying. I was afraid of failing my family. But I was also completely paralyzed with fear at the thought of killing. I couldn’t do it.

  A little sob of fear choked out of my throat. The heat in the dagger pulsed more insistently, as if growing impatient. Poor Ariana. My brother’s wife. She should have been like a sister to me. I would never know what could have been. Either she or I would be dead soon.

  I would either die in hopeless innocence or live with blood on my hands. I hated every option.

  I couldn’t delay any longer. If Ariana woke to find me above her with a knife, my decision would be made for me. I had sold my soul for this — for this one chance to save myself. My life would not be collateral damage for my brother’s foolishness.

  What was a life really worth? Was four-for-one really a good deal? Or was I just as much a fool as my brother?

  Tick, tick, tick...

  Poor Ariana. Poor me. Only a miracle could save us both.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. My hand trembling, I raised the knife as high as I could, and…

  “Stop,” an unfamiliar voice said from behind me.

  I was so startled that I might have dropped the knife, if I could move. I was frozen in place, unable to even breathe. All around me, everything was absolutely still. The clock on the wall no longer measured time. I couldn’t even hear the ticking in the back of my mind. Nothing moved except my pounding heart.

  With a slow exhale, I melted into motion. Everything else remained frozen as if in a painting. I had lost all of the momentum behind my would-be strike. My arm fell weakly back to my side, the dagger unused. I stared at the unmoving Ariana, took a shuddering breath, and turned to face the newcomer.

  The person was mildly transparent, robed in a tattered white cloak. The being’s face was obscured by the cloak’s hood and a decorative half-mask, like the kind one would wear to a masquerade ball.

  “Who are you?” I asked. My voice echoed strangely in the time-stalled room.

  The specter spoke with the voice of a woman. “I cannot identify myself to you,” she said. “To use my name, you must find it first.” She raised her hands, making the tattered cloak sway. “You may call me Spirit.”

  “Spirit,” I said. Weird name. Like naming a dog Dog. “Why are you here?” I asked.

  She nodded her head toward Ariana. “I have come to intervene.”

  “Are you serious?” I looked from Ariana to Spirit and back again with increasing frustration. “She gets a guardian angel and I don’t?”

  Spirit snorted. “I am no angel. I am a lost soul, hoping to save yours.”

  “How?”

  “You must understand the true weight of the decision you are about to make.”

  My hand clenched on the hilt of the dagger. “You don’t think I understand what’s at stake here? My soul, my life, my family—”

  “You are stuck in this moment.” She pointed to the clock on the wall, no longer ticking. “But I can help you, if you will trust me.”

  “Trust you?” Why should I trust this phantom, who had suddenly materialized into existence? I didn’t know who she was or what she wanted. I looked over my shoulder at Ariana. Maybe this was the miracle I had prayed for. For both of us.

  Or maybe it was another trap.

  “I have had quite enough of witches and spirits. Why should I trust you?”

  The spirit vanished without answering my question. I thought she had left me until I saw her reappear on the other side of Ariana’s bed. “You are not the first who has been sent to take her life.” The spirit gently touched Ariana’s face, brushing a hair behind her ear with the tenderness of a mother with her child. “You are not the first I have stopped.”

  “Then go ahead and stop me,” I challenged. Almost begged. Please stop me. Please give me another option.

  The spirit tilted her head as if considering my offer. “I cannot harm you. I have no body. I have nothing but my words and the echoes of this ethereal plane to contend with you. I won’t fight you. But we can have a conversation, if you will listen.”

  A conversation? What good was that going to do? Was this a tactic to waste what little time I had left? Or was this my one chance to really understand?

  “I’m listening.”

  “Give me your hand, Delta.” The spirit held her hand out to me, reaching over Ariana’s still, sleeping form. I hadn’t shared my name with the spirit, yet she knew it. Somehow, hearing my name relaxed me. What could I lose by trusting this spirit? Everything I held dear was already on the line. I made up my mind. Still holding the witch’s dagger in one hand, I reached out my other to touch the mysterious stranger.

  The world faded away when our hands connected.

  11

  I found myself standing in a palace. At least, I assumed it was a palace. It was grander than any place that I had ever seen, grander even than the Mejor Estate. Tapestries and art adorned the walls. Marble pedestals proudly displayed priceless treasures. Even the pillars holding up the ceiling boasted gold detailing. In the very center of the room sat a chaise lounge on a beautiful rug. Decorative pillars were scattered all around the lounge, providing pops of bright color. A bookshelf spanned an entire wall, packed with as many books as I had ever seen in one place. A couple of the books lay open on a table on the opposite end of the room. They were clearly well-loved and not simply for decoration. There were doors on each side of the bookshelf and a large arched entryway behind me. When I turned, I could see the doors propped open, revealing a beautifully manicured garden beyond.

  “Where am I?” I asked aloud. Spirit was nowhere to be seen.

  A door opened, and a man entered the room. He wore outlandish clothing that appeared to be some sort of uniform.

  “Oh! I’m so sorry,” I stammered, backing away as he approached.

  He didn’t acknowledge me. He didn’t even look my way.

  “Hello?” I reached out a hand to touch his arm and gasped when my hand sank right through him. I withdrew in alarm. He made no indication that he had just been touched. He went about his work, tidying the room and polishing the displays of art. I stared at my hands. Had the spirit killed me? Was I a ghost now? I didn’t look transparent.

  I wasn’t holding the dagger. I spun in a panic, patting my body for anywhere it might be stowed. It was gone.

  “Hello?” I asked. “Sir, can you help me?”

  No response.

  “HELLO?!”

  I waved my hand in his face. Still nothing.

  “Are you sure about this?” I heard a familiar voice from the doorway. Two people entered the palatial room. I recognized them immediately. The man who was walking with such confidence, wearing a big smile, was my brother Elias. The timid-looking woman clinging to his arm was a very anxious Ariana.

  “Elias!” I said. I rushed toward him. The two kept moving. They stepped right through me, taking my breath away. They couldn’t see me either.

  “Are we supposed to be here?” Ariana asked, her voice a reverent whisper.

  Elias nodded at the servant, who clearly recognized him. The servant gave a quick nod before returning to his work. Ariana watched anxiously as the servant left the room.

  “We are welcome here,” Elias said. “Layni knows me.”

  “Who?”

  “Layni!” Elias hollered.

  “We’re so close to the palace,” Ariana craned her neck to look out the open door behind them. “If they find me
here, knowing my connection to the witch—”

  Elias covered her hand with his own. “Ariana, relax. You’ll be safe here.”

  Ariana shook her head. “You don’t know the witch. I will never be safe from her.”

  Elias turned to face Ariana, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “Ariana, stop. That is the witch speaking. She wants you to feel hopeless. You know that better than anyone. Don’t let her have that power over you. Do you trust me?”

  Ariana nodded.

  “I told you I would help you escape. I did. Now, I promise I will do everything I can to keep you safe. I promise, Ariana.”

  I finally understood what it was that my brother had stolen from the witch, the act that made her so angry that she ruined my life. It wasn’t an object. It was a person.

  Elias stole Ariana.

  But if Ariana was what the witch wanted back, why had she sent me to kill her? Who was Ariana, really? Why did the witch want her so badly that she would curse my family?

  A door opened.

  “Elias, you rascal. What could be so important that you would interrupt my midday nap?” A young woman appeared in the doorway. Small and slender, I might have mistaken her for a child if not for the maturity of her face and voice. Her skin was pale with a slight yellow hue. A vaguely butterfly-shaped red rash on her cheeks and nose made it appear as if she was always blushing. She had beautiful, dark eyes framed with long lashes and a petite, expressive mouth. Her long, russet brown hair was pulled into a hasty bun and secured with a jeweled comb. She wore brightly colored baggy pants and a sleeveless, cropped shirt over which she wore an open, silky robe. I had never seen clothing quite like hers before. I had certainly never seen a woman bare her stomach, but the woman wore the outfit with confidence, and no one in the room responded with horror.