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

by T. M. Franklin

  The ambassadors in Nathaniel’s entourage bowed to show their respect to the Horrid king. Nathaniel and his guards remained standing. The prince didn’t offer the king so much as a nod of courtesy.

  “You’re late,” the king grumbled.

  “And you’re a murderer,” Nathaniel fired back, eliciting gasps and groans from the gathered ambassadors on both sides.

  The king stood, his gilded chair scraping loudly on the floor. The Horrid king was easily the tallest man in the room. He wore a brightly colored outfit similar to Layni’s, including a cropped top that showed his bare, muscular abdomen. His navel was pierced with three rubies that matched the stones in his circlet. His sleeveless arms were covered in tattoos of a dragon undulating among ancient writings. In short, he was exotic and terrifying. “You insolent child,” the king said, “Do you want to die in this palace? I can make that happen.”

  The Sydnian prince was much younger than the Horrid king, but he held his own. “Do you want a war? Because that’s exactly what you’re asking for. I have men at every border. If I am harmed in any way, they will descend on you like wolves on a wounded lamb.”

  The tension was so thick it was hard to breathe. Wasn’t this supposed to be a meeting of peace? Instead, these two royals were strutting about like insulted roosters. Was this why their countries were now at war?

  Nathaniel continued. “You invited me here to talk.”

  “I invited your father.”

  “And isn’t it so annoying not to get what you want?” Nathaniel practically purred while the Horrid king seethed. “My father sent me because he’s tired of your temper tantrums. If you want to work something out, you’re going to have to work it out with me.”

  “He’s a character, isn’t he?”

  Spirit’s voice in my ear made me jump. I turned to face her as the scene dissolved into clouds and water.

  “Yes, he’s lovely. But what does any of this have to do with me? I already know that Sydna and Horr are at war. Now I guess I understand why. But what’s the point?”

  Spirit’s mouth twisted into a frown of disapproval. “You don’t understand anything.”

  Ouch. “That’s not very nice.”

  “I’m not here to be nice. I’m here to open your eyes. You are too self-absorbed to see how all of this connects. Ariana, your brother, Sydna, and Horr are all players in this tale. Unfortunately for them, you get to decide if this all ends in tragedy.”

  “Oh, so now I’m responsible for the war, too?!”

  “Me, me, me. That’s all I hear from you. You are foolish to believe that this choice is all about you. The ripples of this decision will affect generations.”

  “I’m the one who has to choose, aren’t I? I’d say it’s very much about me.”

  Spirit scowled. But before she had a chance to respond, my vision blurred, and I found myself back in the real world, in the past, standing in Layni’s chambers.

  “So, one day, I caught him stealing food from the kitchen. I snuck up behind him and said, ‘What are you doing?’ and he jumped up and started babbling and crying.” Layni’s voice carried from the other side of the room, where she and Ariana sat mostly concealed behind large easels.

  “Oh no! Poor man! What did you say to him?”

  Layni snickered. “I told him that if he ever tried to steal food from my kitchen again, he better bring me a snack first!” She laughed, relishing the memory. “You should have seen his face! He was so grateful I wasn’t going to turn him in. Now he cooks me whatever I like instead of following the awful menu the physician creates. I figure if I’m just going to die soon anyway, I might as well live eating what I love. So trust me on this one: always befriend the cook.”

  I moved behind Layni so I could see what she was working on. She held a paintbrush in her hand and leaned close to the canvas, her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth. On the canvas was a painting of brilliantly hued geometrical shapes against a light blue canvas. It was abstract, but I thought it looked a bit like a flower with mismatched petals. Layni brushed on the final touches of white paint and stood. Stretching, she tried to sneak a glance at Ariana’s painting, but Ariana moved her body in the way so she couldn’t see.

  “I’m not done yet!” she said.

  “We’ve been painting all day,” Layni complained. “Aren’t you bored of this yet?”

  “No! I love it. It’s so peaceful.”

  Layni rolled her eyes and stuck her still-wet paintbrush into her bun. A drop of white paint dripped from the tip of the brush into Layni’s long, dark hair. She didn’t notice.

  “You’re free, Ariana. You don’t have to finish everything you start. You can do whatever you want.”

  “I want to do this,” Ariana said. “This is exactly what I’ve always wanted. Peace and contentment and the chance to create.”

  “Suit yourself.” Layni sat on the floor and spread her legs as wide apart as she could. She leaned to one side, touching her toes.

  “What about you?” Ariana asked, her eyes still focused on her canvas.

  “What about me what?”

  “What would you do? If you could do anything in the world?”

  Layni reached for the toes of her other foot. “I would want to be recognized,” she said.

  “Hm?” Ariana had placed a paint brush between her teeth. She used a rag to dab at some of the paint on the canvas.

  “No one knows who I am,” Layni explained. “I’ll live and die as no one, as nothing. Just once, I would love for someone to look at me and say, ‘I know you, Layni.’ But that’s foolish. Not even my father knows me as Layni. Not even my staff will use my name. Elias is the only one who cares. He gave me my name, you know. He stumbled in here after getting completely lost in the gardens on his first visit to Horr. He was just a kid at the time. Still skinny. His voice cracked.” She chuckled, lost in the memory. “I gave him directions back to the palace. He asked who I was. No one had ever asked me before. It hit me like a strike of lightning, you know? I actually had a chance to explain myself. He treated me like I mattered, like I was someone. When I told him I didn’t have a name, he gave me one: Layni.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Elias told me it means ‘precious treasure.’ I think he just made it up because he likes the sound of it. It doesn’t matter. Any name is a precious treasure to me.”

  Ariana stood up straight, admiring her canvas. Her lips turned up into a tender smile. “Layni?”

  Layni had twisted herself into a knot of limbs on the floor. She held her pose for a moment and then untangled herself and sat up straight. “Yes?”

  Ariana turned the easel around so Layni could see the painting. It was a painting of her. It showed Layni in profile, messy bun and sarcastic smile and all. Layni stared at the painting like a child noticing their reflection for the first time.

  “I know you, Layni,” Ariana said.

  Layni’s mouth split into a beautiful smile. Overcome with emotion, she struggled for words. Finally, she reached into her bun, grabbed the paint brush, and flicked white paint at Ariana.

  “Hey!”

  The women chased each other around the room, flicking paint from their brushes. They were careful to avoid their canvases, but everything else was free game. I dodged out of the way, even though there was no way paint would splatter me. Soon, both women were covered in multicolored spots of pigment.

  “What is happening in here?” Elias asked from the doorway.

  “Elias!” Ariana tried to throw herself into Elias’ arms, but he dodged her.

  “I love you, Ariana. But this is my best tunic.”

  Ariana walked toward Elias, paint-covered hands held out in front of her. He ducked away, tiptoeing over colorful splotches on the floor. “You two seem to be having fun,” he said.

  Layni grabbed a rag, dipped it in water, and used it to wipe the paint from her face. “How is the peace council going?” she asked.

  Elias found a clean cushion and sank ont
o it. “It’s a disaster.” He threw his hands up helplessly. “Your father is really trying, but Nathaniel? He keeps missing meetings. And when he does show, he’s short-tempered and rude. If he keeps this up for long, your father is going to kill him with his bare hands. Try explaining that to the king and queen of Sydna. This is a mess. Between keeping your father’s temper in check and finding Nathaniel in time for meetings, we’re all exhausted. Three days and they haven’t made any progress. Meanwhile, whispers of war are becoming shouts. I’m afraid this is all about to go very badly.”

  Elias had no idea just how true his words were. Everything was about to go very badly indeed. Between the time of this happy meeting and the present, Elias would be missing, Ariana’s life would be in mortal danger, and three of his seven sisters would be dead. Not to mention the harsh reality that the war he was trying so hard to prevent was going to unfold anyway.

  I stood there, worlds away from my brother and yet so close. My heart swelled with pity. I wished I could reach across time and touch him, give him some sort of warning. If only he knew what a mess the future would be, he would take Ariana and run as far away as he could.

  Maybe he already had run. Maybe that was why I was cursed and Ariana was in danger. But watching my brother, I just couldn’t see it in him. Elias would never run from this. He would fight for the ones he cared about. He would fight to the bitter end.

  ...Wouldn’t he?

  13

  The next time I saw Layni’s chambers, there was no sign of the paint fight that had happened earlier. Whichever poor servant had been assigned cleaning duty had done a magnificent job. It was dark and still. The only light was moonlight, streaming in through a few windows high off the ground. A gentle breeze whispered through the quiet room from the open door. Layni was nowhere to be seen. She was probably asleep in her own bed. Ariana lay asleep on the chaise lounge under a borrowed blanket. All was still and peaceful.

  There was nothing happening. I found this unusual. Since the moment Spirit first appeared, I had been shuffled quickly from one scene to the next, always conveniently present when something important was happening. Now I was taken aback by the stillness.

  Ariana was a very peaceful sleeper. She didn’t snore or talk in her sleep. Her breaths were slow and even. I wished for her to show some sign of imperfection, some stupid little flaw I could use to justify killing her. Maybe she would be easier to murder if she snored.

  But no. Ariana was soft-spoken and kind and genuinely cared about everyone around her. I hated it. I wanted so badly to despise her. I wanted to witness her committing atrocious acts, spitting in people’s faces, gossiping, drowning babies. Something. Anything! I wanted to be the hero of this story. But if I was the hero, then Ariana had to be the villain. And she was the furthest thing from a villain I had ever seen. My sisters truly would have loved her.

  My sisters. I wondered where they were. Were they also in this cloudy ether realm? If so, why hadn’t they come to speak to me? I would have greatly valued their opinion. Maybe if they showed up and said, “Hey, Delta, death isn’t so bad” then I could just let myself and my other sisters die and Ariana could live happily ever after. Then my sisters and I could hang out together in the ether realm and haunt Ariana for the rest of her life. That would be fair, right?

  Ha! None of this was fair.

  Why was I only being visited by strangers? And why were they so concerned about the choice I had to make? Why would it make any difference to them?

  Movement at the door caught my attention. I expected it to be Elias, but it wasn’t. It was Nathaniel, the Sydnian prince. He glanced over his shoulder and walked quickly toward the couch on which Ariana lay sleeping. He squinted at her face and then smiled.

  “There you are,” he whispered to himself. “I knew I would find you. And just in time, too.” He glanced up at the clock on the wall. 11:45. “You of all people should know that you can’t hide from her.”

  He opened his jacket and withdrew a dagger from an interior pocket. It was a horribly familiar dagger, with a jeweled hilt and glowing runes carved into the blade. I could almost feel the pulse of its hunger as it identified Ariana. It was the witch’s dagger.

  Nathaniel hadn’t come to make peace. No wonder he was missing meetings and causing problems for the ambassadors. The peace meetings were a ruse to cover his true motivation. He had come to find Ariana. He had found her. And he was about to kill her.

  “Stop!” I cried, but of course no one heard me. “Ariana! Wake up! Someone!” I tried to shove the knife out of Nathaniel’s hand, but I went right through it. I tried to push him away, flailing at nothing.

  “Why are you trying to stop him?” Spirit asked. She stood on the other side of the room, a passive observer. Everything had frozen again, except the two of us.

  “He’s going to kill her!”

  “So?” Spirit drifted closer. “Isn’t that what you’re trying to do?”

  “No! I…” I stared at the frozen scene in horror. Ariana, asleep. Her potential killer bearing down on her with the exact same knife.

  “Doesn’t this look familiar?” Spirit asked.

  “She can’t die like this,” I said.

  “She doesn’t.”

  The air rushed out of me in a sigh of relief.

  “At least not this night.” Spirit vanished and the scene resumed. Nathaniel raised the knife high above his head, about to strike.

  “Stop!”

  Nathaniel flinched. He looked up at Layni in surprise. Layni stood in the doorway of her room, bracing herself against the door’s frame.

  Nathaniel didn’t respond. With Layni as his witness, he plunged the knife down. Layni screamed.

  Ariana caught Nathaniel’s arm and pushed it away and down, forcing Nathaniel to stumble. While he struggled to get his bearings, she shoved him onto the floor and rolled off the other side of the couch, overturning it in her haste. She tried to stand, but her legs were tangled in her blanket. She tripped. Catching herself with her arms, she rolled over and kicked the blanket away.

  Ariana gasped when Nathaniel leapt over the couch. He moved on top of her, pinning her down. Ariana held up her hands in a pitiful attempt to defend herself.

  Nathaniel grunted when he was struck by the full force of Layni’s weight. She tackled him to the ground, giving Ariana a precious moment to roll out of the way of her attacker. Nathaniel and Layni struggled for control of the knife, but Nathaniel was definitely stronger. He pushed the dagger’s blade toward Layni’s chest. Layni managed to shove Nathaniel’s hand to the side, but the knife still sliced her side.

  “Ah!” Layni gasped in pain and pounded on Nathaniel’s face with her fist. He dropped the knife in surprise. Rather than try to grab it, Layni kicked it aside. It skittered across the marble floor, where Ariana scooped it up.

  Nathaniel grabbed Layni’s arm and twisted it. There was a sickening crack, and Layni cried out again. With her other arm, Layni pulled the jeweled comb out of her hair and jabbed its sharp teeth into Nathaniel’s throat. He convulsed beneath her and then went still.

  One arm hanging limply at her side, Layni stared down at Nathaniel’s body with wide eyes. Her panting breaths became a shaky sob as she covered her mouth with the hand of her good arm.

  The enchanted dagger glowed brightly and then vanished from Ariana’s hands. The sound of the Horrid Witch’s laughter echoed eerily around the room as Ariana and Layni gazed in horror at the body of the Sydnian prince.

  “And now you know why Sydna and Horr are at war.” The Wandering Man appeared beside me as the awful scene faded away.

  I was having a hard time finding words. “She killed him,” I managed.

  “Sad, isn’t it?” The Wandering Man said. “Do you know why the king of Horr hid Layni away? Because if she had been born healthy, she and Nathaniel would have been betrothed. The king never thought she would live to adulthood, so he told the Sydnian king she died at birth. There would be no betrothal. When she didn’t die,
what was he supposed to tell them? That he had lied? You don’t lie about something like that. No. If the king wanted Layni to live any sort of life, she would have to do it in secret. Layni and Nathaniel. Theirs is a tragic tale. Under different circumstances, they might have loved each other. They might have been happy. Instead, Nathaniel sold his soul to a witch, and Layni killed him. And he killed her.”

  “What?!” I rounded on the Wandering Man, but he was gone.

  14

  Layni stood before the raised platform with the eleven chairs, looking tiny in the great big ballroom. Her broken arm was in a sling, and her abdomen was wrapped with bandages, stained red with blood. The only other person in the room was her father, who sat behind the table in his fancy chair.

  “What am I supposed to tell the King of Sydna?” he asked his daughter. He didn’t sound angry. He sounded tired.

  “He attacked me,” Layni said. Her voice trembled. “I defended myself.”

  “But why? Why was he there? What did he want?”

  Layni looked away from her father. She couldn’t tell him she had been hiding someone from the Horrid Witch.

  In the silence, the king rubbed his forehead. “Prince Nathaniel was sent here to discuss peace. Now he’s dead. Do you know what this means?”

  Layni hung her head. Her long hair concealed her face like a dark brown curtain. But I was close enough to her that I could see the tears streaming down her face. “We’re going to war,” she said.

  “We’re going to war,” the king repeated. He paced behind the table, running his fingers through his hair, dark like Layni’s with a stripe of gray at the temples. “If what Nathaniel said is true, his men are already stationed outside our borders. As soon as they receive word of his death, they’ll attack. We’ll have to close the borders. No one in, no one out.”

  Layni trembled. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Her father descended the platform and approached her. He hesitated a moment. He had probably never been this close to his daughter before, not since she was born. Making up his mind, he placed his hands on her shoulders.