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

by T. M. Franklin

  The woman’s eyes narrowed when she saw Ariana. “Who is this?” she asked.

  Elias flashed his most charming smile. “Layni, my dear, you look fabulous as always.”

  Layni rolled her eyes, clearly unaffected by my brother’s charms. “Elias, why did you bring her here? You know I don’t take in strays.”

  “I should go,” Ariana said. She turned to flee, but Elias caught her arm.

  “We need your help,” he said.

  Layni scoffed. “What else is new?”

  Elias was as unaffected by her sarcasm as she was by his charm. He placed a hand on each of Ariana’s shoulders and held her out in front of him. “This is Ariana,” he said. “She is being hunted by someone who is very dangerous.”

  Layni closed the door behind her and stepped closer. She studied Ariana shrewdly. “This doesn’t happen to have anything to do with the Horrid Witch, does it?” she asked.

  “She knows!” Ariana twisted out of Elias’s grasp and hurried toward the door.

  “Stop,” Layni commanded. Ariana stopped. “Come back.” Ariana returned to Elias’s side. “Do you serve the Horrid Witch?”

  “Layni—” Elias began.

  Layni waved her hand to silence him. “She can speak for herself, Elias.” She nodded at Ariana. “Well?”

  Ariana squirmed uncomfortably. “I did serve the Horrid Witch.” She tilted her chin, putting on a brave face. “But I serve her no longer.”

  “Please, Layni. If you would just—”

  “Quiet.” Elias’s mouth snapped shut at Layni’s command. I had never seen anyone shut my brother up before. I decided I quite liked this Layni woman. To Ariana, she said, “Are you currently under contract with the witch?”

  “I am not,” Ariana said automatically, as if the words had been forced out of her. Interesting. Layni expected that response. Did those under contract with the witch have to reveal the truth when they were directly questioned? If someone asked me that same question, would the truth burst out of me like it had out of Ariana?

  Ariana anxiously reached for Elias’s hand. Layni’s gaze followed the movement of their hands, then swept to their faces. “Ah,” she said. “I see what’s going on here. This is the woman you’ve been sneaking off to see, isn’t it?”

  Elias pretended to look bashful, but his grin gave him away.

  Layni sighed. “Very well. She can stay.”

  Ariana and Elias visibly relaxed.

  “Thank you, Layni.” Elias wrapped Layni in a bear hug.

  “Stop, you brute!” Layni laughed as Elias swept her off her feet. Elias put her down. She grabbed his arm to steady herself. “You win, Elias. I’ll chaperone your lover for you. But you need to leave. We can’t have you leading the witch to us.”

  Elias nodded his understanding. “I’ll return in two day. Ariana, you’ll be safe here. Just lay low for a while. I’ll come back for you.” Elias tugged Ariana closer, and they embraced.

  Layni sat on the arm of the chaise lounge and fiddled with a tassel on a pillow as the couple said their heartfelt goodbyes. She tolerated their lovesick warbling for a few moments and then rolled her eyes. “Elias!” she interrupted, causing them both to jump. “Go!”

  Elias thanked Layni profusely once more, pecked Ariana on the cheek, and left. Ariana stared after him, on the edge of panic. I kind of felt bad for her. Much as I liked my first impression of Layni, I wasn’t so sure I would be comfortable alone with her.

  Ariana took a deep breath and faced her host. “So, your name is Layni?”

  Layni snorted. “Nice try, Horrid One. Layni is not my name.”

  Ariana blinked in surprise. “I don’t understand.”

  “Yes, you do,” she said. “Don’t play dumb with me, Ariana. Batting your pretty little eyes and acting helpless might be the way to get Elias to help you, but that isn’t going to work for me. If you served the witch closely enough for her to consider you a threat, then you know the power of a name. If you knew my real name, you could curse me.”

  “But I don’t set curses!”

  “But you could.”

  Ariana deflated. “Yes,” she admitted. “I have been taught. But that doesn’t mean I will!”

  “Relax. Have a seat. You couldn’t curse me if you tried.” Layni reached to the table beside her seat and rang the bell that set there. Immediately, the servant entered, as if he had been waiting on the other side of the door to hear the bell. “Bring us some food,” Layni said. “And some water for our guest before she faints.”

  “As you wish, Princess.” The servant left.

  Ariana lowered herself to sit cross-legged on the rug. She stared at Layni with her mouth hanging open. “Princess?” she asked. “But Horr doesn’t have a princess.”

  Layni sighed. “That’s exactly what my illustrious father wants you to think.” Layni slid over the arm of the chaise lounge, landing on her back on the cushions. She folded her legs over the arm she had been sitting on and gazed up at the chandelier. “You hail from Horr, correct?”

  “Yes. I was born beside the Forsaken Woods.” The Forsaken Woods made up the southern border of Barune and Horr. The woods were full of fantastic and terrifying creatures. People who wandered into the woods tended to never wander out. There was no doubt that the witch used the woods to travel without being observed.

  The servant returned with a tray of fruits and pastries and a glass jug of water. He placed the food and drink on the table and positioned it between the two women. He bowed to Layni and left.

  Ariana poured herself a cup of water and drank thirstily. Layni picked up a purple grape, rolled it between her fingers, and popped it in her mouth. “Have you ever heard the legend of the Hidden Princess?”

  “Yes.” Ariana set her empty cup on the table. “They say the king’s second wife had a child, a girl. But the Horrid Witch wanted her, so he hid her away.”

  “Well, part of that story is true. But the witch had nothing to do with it.”

  Ariana sat up straighter. “You are the Hidden Princess? You’ve been real all this time?”

  Layni spread her arms out and wiggled her fingers as if she had just landed a tumbling trick. “That’s me. The mysterious Hidden Princess. My mother was sick during her pregnancy. When I was born, I was also very ill. My mother died shortly after my birth. My father expected me to die, as well. He didn’t name me, didn’t announce my birth, and hid me away in this old guest house until I died.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “I didn’t. I lived, against all odds. My illness has certainly taken its effects on me,” she rubbed her rash-stained nose to emphasize her point, “but I never did die. I might as well have. My father decided it would be too embarrassing to announce my existence years after I was born. People would be suspicious. Relations with Sydna were tense, even then. My sudden appearance would only cause more trouble. And there’s always the chance that I’ll die soon anyway, so why bother? So here I have stayed, alive, but hardly living. My whole life, they have waited for me to die.”

  Ariana listened with her hand over her mouth. “So you’ve lived like this all your life?”

  “Eighteen years I’ve lived in my lovely gilded cage. I have everything I could ever want.” Layni gestured at her beautiful home and expensive collections of art and books. “Except the right to exist. I’ve lived my whole life with an unmarked grave just waiting for my nameless body. I am meaningless.”

  “That isn’t true. No one is meaningless. Every life has a potential to be great.”

  Layni rolled onto her side to face Ariana. “You think very differently from the Horrid Witch.”

  Ariana fiddled with her sleeve. “Yes.”

  “Is that why you left her?”

  “I couldn’t stand the life she wanted for me.”

  “And what are you going to do now, with your new freedom?”

  Ariana stared at her hands in her lap. “I want to create things — good things — instead of always tearing them apart.”
Ariana avoided Layni’s gaze, staring down at her lap instead. “The Horrid Witch is all destruction, anger, and vengeance. I couldn’t live like that. Her power is great, but it isn’t worth the price. I don’t want to live forever by feeding off the souls of others.” Was that what had happened to my soul? Ew! “I don’t want to possess and manipulate. I want a family.”

  “With Elias?”

  Ariana blushed. “Yes,” she admitted. “With Elias.”

  “Be careful. The wrong kind of love can be just as destructive as hatred. They say the Horrid Witch was once in love.”

  “And it destroyed her,” Ariana finished. Clearly, she had heard this story before.

  Layni popped another grape in her mouth. “She was once very beautiful. She even caught the eye of the King of Horr, my great-great grandfather. But she was jealous and demanding. When the king turned his attention to another, the witch murdered her competition. She was sentenced to death, but she turned to the dark arts to escape. She has punished Horr ever since, doing whatever she could to destroy the country that she believes rejected her.”

  Ariana shuddered and hugged her knees. “The witch likes to destroy what she can’t have,” she said quietly. “She’s splendidly talented at ruining things.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  12

  The image of Ariana and Layni faded away, leaving me in a smoky sort of nowhere. Pink and purple clouds drifted around me as I stood ankle-deep in a reflective pool of water that appeared to stretch forever in every direction.

  “Delta.” It was a man’s voice that called my name. The stranger materialized before me, richly dressed in a velvet tunic and plumed hat. Like Spirit, he also had a tattered cloak. But rather than wearing it, he held it casually over his shoulder, hooked over a finger. His eyes were concealed by a red and gold half-mask. All that I could see of his face was a crooked grin and a strong jaw covered in stubble. He stood in the air, hovering a couple hand-widths above the water.

  “Where is Spirit?” I asked.

  “Spirit? That’s awfully vague.”

  “The one who brought me here. Where is she?”

  “Did you think she was the only one in this realm? There are others of us, you know. You might call us the lost souls, full of doubt and regret.”

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “I cannot give you my name.” With a sweeping motion, he twirled his cloak around him and rested it on his shoulders, where it billowed behind him like a cape. “Names are sacred in this realm. You must identify me yourself.”

  “But I’ve never seen you before.” Spirit had said the same thing when I asked for her name. What sort of silly game were these specters playing?

  The man took a couple steps, as if descending an invisible staircase. He stood on the surface of the water without sinking. Below his feet, the water glowed where it touched the bottoms of his boots. It appeared as though he was standing on starlight. “I don’t make the rules,” the man said with a shrug.

  “If you have no name, then what should I call you? Who are you?”

  “I am a wanderer,” he said. “Trying to find my way home.” Very helpful. Were all spirits this cryptic and vague? “I am not important. Call me what you please.”

  “Fine. I will call you…” What? Greg? Frederick? “The Wandering Man.”

  The Wandering Man flashed a dazzling smile. “Perfect.”

  “How come I can’t know your name, but you know mine?”

  “Because we have been watching you.”

  “But why—”

  The Wandering Man continued before I could badger him further. “Uh, uh. I have a question for you now.” He disappeared from sight, reforming right beside me. He leaned his weight on my shoulder. “What are you doing here? You aren’t a spirit. Why, you haven’t even got a soul.” He pointed at the water below us. Neither of us had a reflection.

  I gazed at the emptiness where I should have been. “I sold my soul,” I said.

  “I see. Why did you sell it? For riches? For power?”

  “I had no choice.”

  The Wandering Man held up his hand to silence me. “You always have a choice, Delta. That is what life is all about. The choices. Do I eat this or that? Wear this—” His clothing changed from his fancy attire into a more modest overcoat, then back again. “—or that? Do I love? Do I hate? Do I forgive? Do I resent? How do I spend my time, and with whom? Choices, choices, choices. Each one adds upon the other, and the whole makes up a life. It is all about choices.”

  “I’m not very good at making choices.”

  “Nonsense. Own your decision.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was cool and left tingles on my skin. Bizarre as he was, I found him somehow comforting. “Tell me the real reason you sold your soul.”

  “The Horrid Witch put a spell on my family. I sold my soul to save them.”

  “So you’re a hero.”

  I laughed joylessly. “Not exactly. To break the curse, I have to kill an innocent woman.”

  “So you’re a villain.”

  “No! I’m not a bad person. I would never hurt someone. Except—”

  “Except to rescue another?”

  “Yes.”

  “But an innocent life for an innocent life isn’t really a rescue, is it?”

  I hugged myself, suddenly chilled. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. How do you value a life? How do I know who deserves to live and who deserves to die?”

  “Perhaps neither of them deserve to die.” The Wandering Man folded his cloak over his arm. “But someone must. So who do you choose?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “You better figure it out soon.” The surface of the water rippled. I found myself standing in the center of a giant clock, the hands frozen at 11:59. “Midnight approaches.” The clock in the water ticked forward to 12:00. A great bong rang through the misty realm, vibrating through my very core. The ground opened up beneath me, and I fell into blackness.

  I landed on my bottom on a marble floor, my breath ragged with panic. If I survived this whole ordeal, I swore I would never own another clock.

  It took me a moment to gather my bearings. I was no longer in Layni’s chambers. I stood in the center of a large ballroom with high, sweeping ceilings.

  “He’s late!” A voice boomed from my left.

  “Patience, Your Highness. He will come.”

  The man who could have only been the king of Horr sat at a long table on a raised platform. There were eleven chairs in total, all seated along one side of the table, facing into the room. The king’s chair was in the center, the tallest and grandest. As if to defy the grandness of his surroundings, the king sat in a most unkingly manner: slumped forward, leaning his chin on one hand and tapping the table with his other. A cluster of men and women gathered around him, some sitting and some standing. A few of them wore the native attire of baggy pants and cropped shirts, while others wore the Western style of tunics and breeches or dresses and others wore silk robes that draped to the floor. Elias sat in the chair to the king’s left, wearing his official blue ambassador’s sash.

  “I don’t like it one bit,” the king of Horr said in a deep growl. He wasn’t trying to be loud, he just had one of those voices that carried across the room.

  “I know, Your Highness,” Elias said, “but please give it a chance. They’re trying to reach out.”

  The king scoffed. “Sydna started this conflict by failing to deal with the raiders trolling our border. Why are they the ones sending their prince on a ‘peacekeeping campaign,’ as if Horr is an insolent child in need of a scolding? This is all their fault! It’s an insult.”

  “Let’s not point fingers,” a second ambassador spoke up. She had a melodic accent and wore a style of robe common in the Eastern lands. “You chose to kill innocent Sydnian merchants in retaliation for the actions of the raiders. You must have known that would make Sydna angry.”

  The king waved his hand as if shooing
a bothersome fly. “If they had dealt with the raiders themselves, I wouldn’t have had to kill to get them to take it seriously. They ignored the raiders as long as it was only the Horrid who were dying. If it took Sydnian deaths to turn their proud heads, so be it.”

  Elias exchanged a worried look with the Eastern ambassador.

  A Horrid consultant cleared his throat. “My lord, if I may be so bold: I don’t believe the Sydnian prince will see it that way. Your decision to slay those merchants has been called an act of war.”

  “Horr’s borders have been at war with renegade Sydnians for years,” the king said. “As far as I’m concerned, we are already at war.”

  More concerned looks were exchanged behind the king’s back.

  “Can Horr survive a war against Sydna? Think of what you’re asking your people to endure. A war would devastate the economy, your people’s livelihoods … and what if you lost?”

  “My people are already devastated. All along the northern border, Sydnian raiders have destroyed farms, homes, even whole villages with their plundering. And all the while, Sydna has turned a blind eye, unwilling to take responsibility.”

  Elias chose his words carefully, “Well, Your Highness, you wanted their attention. Now you have it.”

  As if on cue, the doors at the other end of the room opened.

  “Announcing the arrival of Prince Nathaniel of Sydna,” a court herald bellowed.

  A large group filed into the room, led by a man who could only have been Prince Nathaniel of Sydna. Nathaniel was young and striking, with long dark hair swept into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He was dressed smartly in a red tunic and black breeches. His polished boots clicked on the marble floors as he entered the large royal chamber, flocked on both sides by personal guards. The prince was accompanied by his own group of advisors and a gaggle of anxious ambassadors, including an ambassador from Barune. She wore the same blue sash as Elias. Barune was so against this war that they were sending counsel to both sides. As a country that shared borders with both Horr and Sydna, Barune had a lot to lose if the two countries went to war.