Silver and Shadow (The Canath Chronicles Book 2)

by S. M. Gaither

  (Don’t tell me you’re not nerding out over getting to observe a parallel universe in person.)

  (Okay. Maybe a bit. I’ll probably be nerding out more once I’m not as afraid for our lives.)

  (On that note…)

  With an agreeable, very human-like nod of her head, she races away from the campsite, which is a mess of screeching, scuffling creatures all attempting to consume their fallen brethren.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a white blur following our lead away from the pandemonium.

  The three of us are actually going to escape in one piece.

  I lean lower, pressing into Carys’s back to make us a quicker, more streamlined beast.

  (STOP!)

  I lift my head at Liam’s warning.

  The wind gusts, shaking a handful of leaves from the trees. They swirl into an invisible wall of energy ahead of us, burn brightly against it for a moment, and then their ashes scatter into the breeze.

  We’re too late to stop.

  I see the Anima responsible for this death wall, standing off to the side, watching us as we attempt to put on the brakes but end up sliding sideways and crashing slowly into that wall instead.

  They laugh as we slam into it, and that hollow, gleeful sound chases me as electricity tears through my body and I start to spiral toward blackness.

  Chapter Six

  I don’t know how I stop the spiral.

  I want to black out.

  Instead, my eyes are heavy but stubbornly, partially open—wide enough to see the metal-booted feet that are shuffling closer.

  “Kill them. Not worth the trouble.”

  They aren’t speaking English.

  I don’t know why I know this, and I don’t know how I can understand them—because the only language I speak is English and the little bit of Spanish and French that Carys has managed to pound into my brain.

  But I understand these creatures.

  I understand why they’re dragging Liam and Carys’s unconscious bodies toward mine.

  This is about to be a funeral pyre.

  Electricity still pulses through me. But as I lay there, watching the magic flame building in the closest Anima’s hand, that electricity in me begins to shift.

  It isn’t simply going through me anymore.

  It’s coming from me.

  Magic ripples in my veins, and the world around me rattles with it.

  The earth cracks a trail away from me and my unconscious pack members as spark after spark leaps from my skin. I try to direct my power toward the Anima that holds the flame.

  Then that blackness finally claims me, and I close my eyes and drift away.

  Chapter Seven

  I wake up tied to a tree.

  Not the best situation I’ve ever woken up to, but not necessarily the worst, either.

  I’m not alone at least—Carys is to my left, and Liam is to my right, and they’re both wide awake and staring at the campsite before us. A site which has, unfortunately, found order once more.

  We’re all human now, but we’re also extremely close to the army occupying that camp—and their numbers seem to have replenished themselves, too. So I keep to the safety of thoughtspeech when I say: (They didn’t kill us.)

  (I’m not convinced that’s a good thing,) Liam replies.

  (Why wouldn’t they kill us, though?)

  I try to remember my last moments of consciousness, but I don’t have much luck searching those moments for clues.

  (Look at your arm,) comes Cary’s soft voice.

  Despite the sick feeling that grips me, I make myself follow her instructions.

  And there, in the same place that the mark of Canath once resided on my arm—except on the opposite arm, now—is another mark. One that’s glowing faintly around its edges.

  I’ve never seen anything like it before.

  But I’m almost positive it is not good news.

  (What the hell, universe?) I think, not trying to hide the misery or self-pity in my tone. (I thought I was done with this crap.)

  The other two are solemn and silent until I tilt my head toward Carys and demand to know what it means.

  (I’m not sure,) she admits. (But in astrological disciplines, that’s the symbol sometimes used for Earth.)

  (So when I’m on Earth, Canath insists on branding me a freak. And now this? The universe’s way of telling me I’m in the wrong world?) I muse, leaning my head against the tree and closing my eyes. (And so I don’t belong. Again.)

  (I could have told you you didn’t belong here,) Liam says. (But you jumped into the Shiny Portal of Almost Certain Death before I had a chance to.)

  (Not helping,) Carys snaps at him.

  I fight to keep my body still and my world-shaking energy in check. (I’m sorry, okay? I really, really am. But I had to do it.)

  (You absolutely did not.)

  (I—You don’t know anything, alright? So just shut up.)

  (Both of you shut up,) Carys says, (unless you have something useful to say that might help us figure out how to get out of this mess.)

  Neither of us do.

  Not for a long time, at least.

  We’re tied in such a way that bending or sitting is impossible, and soon I’m starting to lose the feeling in my knees. (Maybe we could shift and muscle our way out?)

  (Tried it when I first woke up,) Carys replies. (But there’s something weird about these ropes—something that makes them tighten and burn in reaction to attempted shifts, it seems. I’m pretty sure the marks burned into my stomach are going to be permanent. And they hurt like hell.)

  (I could use magic, maybe?)

  (Might cause the same kind of reaction.)

  (But I could still try.)

  (And lose control and pass out again?) Liam says, his gaze straight ahead. (Would rather you didn’t.)

  (I could control it,) I shoot back. (I had a controlled shift when I first came into this stupid world, and I could—)

  (Magical energy whips them into a frenzy; you saw that, right?) Carys interjects gently. (Best not to get them riled up unless we’re sure it’s a fight we can win.)

  (So what, we’re just giving up?)

  (At least we all get to die together,) Liam thinks with a sigh. (One big happy family and all.)

  Family.

  The word cuts into my heart, and that familiar, painful breathlessness that comes with thinking about my parents keeps me silent for a long time. We watch the scene before us, the Anima moving around the campsite in a strangely choreographed sort of way. Like puppets, almost. They communicate mostly in grunts and occasional jerks of motion. When they do use actual words, I don’t understand them—even though I’m almost positive I remember understanding them before.

  I wonder if that understanding has something to do with my connection to Canath, same as my ability to ‘see’ that black door that led me here. But I don’t mention this weird translation trick I seem to have acquired, because I don’t want to talk about my weirdness or this world right now— I want to talk about the world I left behind, even if it hurts.

  (Why is it just you two, anyway? I mean—that came out wrong—I just meant, where are…)

  (Your parents?) Carys guesses.

  I nod.

  (Well. The truth is, they didn’t realize that Liam and I were coming here. Because, technically, things weren’t ready for us to come here, and my dad is going to be so angry at me when we get home, oh man, I can just imagine…)

  She trails off into worried ramblings, so I force myself to make eye contact with Liam instead.

  (Explain.)

  He does, reluctantly. (Uncle Eli was working on a way to stably cross the worlds, using artifacts that were strongly connected to you in some way. His theory was that the pull between you and the chosen object—enhanced by magic and his own, more scientific experiments—would be enough to create a portal sort of like the one you disappeared into. Except he was convinced it could be a more direct path, with the right adjustmen
ts—it needed to be, to prevent those of us without ties to this world from getting stuck in the in-between.)

  (On The Bridges?)

  (Bridges?)

  (Never mind.) I say a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god might be listening, grateful that they at least didn’t have to deal with the horror of that in-between place. (So you used an object, sort of like we did with the keys.)

  (Burned it along with a dusting of a spell that Eli concocted with some help from one of the New England Witches.)

  (Do I want to know what you burned?)

  I have a bad feeling it was one of my favorite weapons.

  (Probably not,) Liam says, not looking particularly sorry about whatever he destroyed—I’m guessing because he thinks I deserved as much.

  Maybe he’s right.

  (I still don’t understand why my parents weren’t involved?) The desire to see them again—a desire that I’d been doing my best to bury—suddenly feels like it might be gnawing an actual hole through my heart.

  (Because Dad was still testing it,) Carys says. (He claimed it wasn’t ready, and your parents took his word for it. But I know that sometimes he’s too much of a perfectionist, just like—)

  (Just like you?)

  (Just like me. So I figured it was close enough to ready, even if he wasn’t ready to claim it. And we were getting impatient. Afraid. It had been so long, and there was no sign of you and so…well, I know were my dad keeps the keys to his private lab area. So I stole the experimental artifact and…well, I was right, wasn’t I? It did work.)

  (Wait, this was your idea?)

  (You’ve been a terrible influence on her,) Liam chides.

  I ignore the jab. (But you thought I was the reckless one? When you both did something so insanely risky to reach this place? I was only gone for a day or two, surely you could have been a little more patient than that.)

  Liam looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. (You’ve been gone for over a week.)

  Suddenly his irritation with me seems a little more justifiable.

  (…So that’s another theory proven in person then,) Carys ventures after a moment of stunned silence between us. (Time passes differently here than it does on Earth. Roughly three times as fast, I think—with some occasional variations, maybe. Which means that all of our parents are now aware that we’re gone too, and they’re likely losing their minds with worry by this point.)

  She looks like wants to bury her face in her hands, but the ropes binding her are preventing it. They’re preventing me from wrapping a comforting arm around her, too.

  But they aren’t going to stop me from casting magic, I decide.

  (I can get out of this. I’ll draw those Anima creeps toward me while you two escape, and you can get home before our parents have a chance to completely lose their minds.)

  (Like that’s really going to happen.) I can’t see Liam, but I can pretty much hear the eye roll in his voice.

  (Be serious, Elle,) Carys whines. (We’re not leaving you.)

  I figured they would say that.

  Which is why my plan is already in motion.

  For the past minute I’ve been focused on summoning the tiniest bit of magic possible—enough to draw attention while still remaining in control.

  I’m braced for the rope’s reaction that Carys warned of, but luckily it doesn’t come.

  And it only takes one strong-ish spark. A bit of electricity races along my palm, and at least six heads turn my direction, like that small burst of magic energy is the last drop of water in an endless desert.

  (Stop it,) Liam warns.

  The spark becomes a bolt. It crackles its way along the rope binding me. I smell that rope burning. It feels slack against my skin, suddenly, but it refuses to fall away completely; every time I think it might, a fresh wave of energy pulses through it and it tightens again.

  The same energy that’s keeping us from shifting?

  I have to break free.

  I have to get safely away from Liam and Carys.

  My head still feels foggy and unsure after my fainting trip, and my directive grip on that bolt I summoned is weakening. It jumps from the rope and snakes along the ground for a brief moment before being absorbed into it.

  The Anima are still just watching me, waiting to see what I’ll do.

  What I can do, maybe.

  I blink, and I lose several seconds. I don’t remember it happening, but three of the Anima are suddenly there, each of their face inches from mine. Studying me. One cold, metal-clad hand rubs a trail over the back of my hand. His fingers slip into my clenched fist, and they force it open, jerking my hand downward so that my wrist is more easily visible.

  I shudder.

  My chest feels like it might explode.

  That mark of Earth is already glowing faintly on my skin, which is proof that if I summon magic right now, there’s no way I’m going to be able to control it. There’s no way I can keep my friends safe.

  “Hey! Leave her alone, you creeps.”

  The Anima ignore Liam’s shouting and continued insults—until he manages to get his foot underneath one of the large branches littering the ground. His strength is enough to make the thick branch a dangerous projectile; the kick sends it flying, drives it into the lower back of the Anima closest to him. It scrapes underneath the armor but doesn’t penetrate the skin—not enough to release any of the energy powering its body, at least. But it’s a hard enough hit that the creature drops to one knee, yowling in pain.

  The other two abandon me and spin toward Liam, who glares at them like he’s thinking about spitting in their ugly faces.

  I really hope he doesn’t do anything that stupid.

  They seem to consider their options for a moment while their third regains his composure and gets back to his feet.

  Then all three of them reach forward.

  “No!”

  They don’t even bother to untie the ropes. They jerk Liam hard enough that he breaks through them. He barely swallows a pained scream as the fraying ropes tear across his body, ripping clothing and skin and leaving bands of red, bloodied skin.

  My ropes hold tighter than ever.

  So do Carys’s, no matter how hard she struggles.

  The Anima drag Liam to the center of the rest of their group, throwing him to the ground a few feet away from the fire. One of the largest among them—a shuffling giant with an emblem of a large, silver, dragon curled across the chest of its armor—steps forward and grabs a burning stick from the fire.

  He doesn’t so much as flinch as embers fly from the lit end and shower his mask. He glances back over his shoulder—at me.

  That mask is over his hideous face and drooping eyes, but I know he’s looking at me.

  I fight off the urge to throw up.

  The Anima shoves the blazing end of the stick into Liam’s side.

  Liam tries to scramble away, but he’s met by two more enemies who grab him and hold him in place for a second, much-longer branding.

  “STOP!” I shout.

  A chorus of that not-quite-human laughter fills the air, drowning out the anguished sounds coming from my best friend as he braces his arms against the ground and tries to prepare himself for a third attack.

  The Anima brandishing the burning limb glances back at me again, expectant.

  “Why do they keep looking back here? Those sick, sons of—”

  “I think they’re trying to get you to use more of your magic to save him,” Carys says, voice trembling. “Either because they want to study it, or because they want to feed on it.”

  “Do they want to be destroyed by it? Because I still have almost no control over it. I’m liable to kill us all—”

  “I don’t know, Elle. I don’t know what to do, I…” Her voice trails into a horrified gasp.

  My gaze snaps back to the fire.

  Liam is on his knees. His arms are being held back. The flame on the Anima’s stick has gone out, but it still burns, orange cracks of fire against t
he charred black end that is dangerously close to Liam’s throat. It inches closer and closer, pausing only long enough for that Anima to look at me once more.

  It’s more than a spark that flies from my hands this time.

  Bolt after bolt of electricity shoots through my veins. Leaps into my palms. I try to cup it, try to control it at least a little bit; by some miracle I manage to guide it along the ropes binding me and Carys, burning through enough of them at once that we manage to burst free before they can magic their way back to tightness.

  The laughter around the camp stops.

  Liam is lying on his back, grabbing for his throat and panting heavily.

  The sight of him makes my vision blur, and suddenly that lightning that set me free is burning a path along the ground, striking toward the Anima who still holds the burnt stick. The white, crackling energy wraps around him and expands until it’s engulfed him in his own personal electric storm.

  The storm passes after a few seconds, and he drops to the scorched earth and doesn’t move again.

  I drop as well, my body teeming with unstable energy.

  Several of the Anima have converged on the fallen one.

  More are turning toward me.

  “I’ll keep drawing them this way,” I tell Carys, my voice strained to a whisper. “Get Liam.”

  “What about—”

  “I’ll be fine. Just taking a break.”

  She looks doubtful. But Liam appeared to be in worse shape than me—she can’t argue that—so she reluctantly darts to the right of the approaching horde. She shifts in mid-run, graceful and quick; one minute she’s on two legs, the next she’s on four and moving even faster, kicking up a storm of leaves and dirt as she sweeps wide and circles back toward Liam.

  I consider shifting.

  It still doesn’t feel like a stable option, but it might be better than magic.

  What I really want is a sword in my hand, even if I feel too shaky to properly use it at the moment.

  I get to my feet as the Anima reach me. Seven of them, I think. They’re all kind of blurring together. I try to peer through them to see if I can spot Carys racing successfully to Liam’s rescue, but any chance of glimpsing them is ruined by the smoke and glaring light from the fire that seems to be growing steadily larger.