Dancing with Shadows

by Bridie Henderson

  “Shit.”

  “Take them down from within, huh?” she growled, moving towards the door before anyone could stop her. She heard Slade call out but she didn’t feel the breeze of air as his fingers narrowly missed her arm. She took a step outside, her eyes bright with fury.

  “You wanted me?” she muttered. She looked up at Aaron, checking him over only to find him scowling at her. What was it with the men in this family? Try to mount a rescue and get nothing but attitude.

  “You! Get moving! That way,” the first soldier screamed, pointing towards the east. The container, she thought.

  “Yeah… I don’t think so. Let them go and I’ll do my best not to kill you,” she growled. Too much. It was all too much. Too much feeling. Too much pain and hurt and guilt. She just wanted to hit something. Not for the first time she considered just letting the power take over. As though it might offer her a small reprieve from life as she knew it. Hells, she just wanted something to fight. At least then she’d feel like she was making progress. The soldier screamed again for her to move but all she could hear was Amira’s laugh. All she could see was the outlander climbing above her, threatening to violate her in ways she couldn’t bear to dissect. She saw Slade’s face when he realised what he was doing, the horror and disgust as he pulled himself away from her… it was all too much. The soldier kicked Aaron in the back of the shin and he fell to his knee with a grunt. She heard Slade burst through the tavern door as the soldier cocked his gun. She looked up, black bleeding into her grey eyes as the shadows fell from her fingertips unbidden. It was different this time. She felt more in control. More at one with her gift. It still felt cold as it ran through her veins but no longer the painful icy sensation… just a cool breeze as it flew through her body. Time seemed to slow down as Slade shouted ‘No!’ behind her. The soldier pointed his gun and pressed his finger on the trigger. Her shadows raced towards him as he fired and then she was there, in front of him as he shrieked. Her face was reflected in his eyes as he screamed in agony. Blood. So much blood. Her hands and stomach felt wet with it as he fell to the floor. She saw a soft light emanating from him and her shadows descended turning white as they reached him. They pulled on the golden light and she felt him, felt the worth of his soul. Not evil, just a soldier following orders. She released the ashen grey orb and watched it float up and away into the ether. Even as she did this, more of her shadows flew from her fingertips, ripping the screeching Mech mutts’ apart, piece by metallic piece, decimating the other soldiers, but leaving their hostages unscathed. She approached the fallen soldiers, her feet walking on air just above the ground. Another grey orb of light floated away but the other, a black, darkened mass was not so lucky. She closed her eyes, images of children suffering, a young boy crying as he attempted to cover himself on the bed, the sound of a belt hitting the floor… an angry growl escaped her as a tendril of blue flame escaped her, wrapping around the black mass that was once the soldiers life force. This one did not deserve peace, he deserved to suffer as he had made others suffer. The flames concealed themselves inside the black mass and the gratifying screams that accompanied it filled her ears, filled her heart. She released the orb and watched it sink back into the dead husk it belonged in. She turned, happy that it would never know peace, only eternal suffering, as the body returned to the ground for the years to come. Aaron sat before her, his eyes wide and a look of horror on his face. She wanted to tell him it was alright, that she had seen his heart and he was pure. A good soul resided within him. Instead she turned and moved away. Perhaps a part of her was unwilling to respond to the fear she saw in him. Dax, Colt and Slade were standing in front of the tavern. Dax was slack jawed where his companion just seemed pensive. She moved towards them and where Dax took a step back, Colt remained still and defiant.

  “You have courage…” she heard herself say, though the voice didn’t sound like hers. “You have lost much… it hardens your soul. You are not the sum of your thoughts, soldier, but the sum of your actions. Remember that.” Her words felt natural, as though they were the right ones to say at that moment though she wasn’t sure where they had come from. It was as though the knowledge she needed to understand them was just out of reach. Colt closed his eyes for a second and when he opened them, he gave her a short nod and turned to walk back into the tavern.

  “Quinn?”

  She turned towards Slade, his eyes wide and frightened.

  “You still fear me? No, not fear of me… fear for me. Why? You would not… you would not hurt me… I see… I…” her words faltered and she began to feel faint. She felt her feet hit the floor lightly and she felt her body sway. What was happening to her? She looked up into Slade’s eyes and the uneasiness, the fear of the unknown, melted away. She felt her knees give out and Slade’s arms reach out to catch her… she felt her power rescind slightly though it was still there, hiding beneath the surface… she felt the warmth of his skin burning into her… she hadn’t realised she felt so cold. She felt… nothing… nothing… just peace…

  Chapter 16

  “Quinn!” Slade cradled her close, panic overtaking his senses as he looked upon her.

  “In here. Quickly!” Colt, the shorter soldier called from inside the tavern. Unable to think clearly, Slade blindly followed his instructions. Colt had cleared the bar and laid his jacket over it. “Lay her down!” Slade did as he was told, his mind numb as the soldier washed a silver blade in whiskey. He then approached Quinn, the blade in one hand, a bottle of whiskey in the other. He put the bottle on the bar and reached for the hem of Quinn’s dress, pulling it up in one fluid motion. Quinn’s body from the waist down was exposed and Slade lost his shit. With a growl he rushed the soldier, forgetting about his blade, which fell to the floor with a clatter. His hands went straight for Colt’s throat but he was grabbed from behind before they connected.

  “Calm down, Slade. Let him work,” that voice… he knew that voice. Aaron. Why was he allowing this guy to do… what was he doing? Still in the throes of panic, Slade looked up to see Colt pushing his silver blade into Quinn’s stomach… blood everywhere… losing another one… failed again… his thoughts were a jumbled mass of pain, fear and worry as he fought against his brother and the other soldier. He barely registered it when the tavern door opened and the small woman that had been held hostage by the soldiers hurried in, a small cloth bag in her hands.

  “Use this in the wound, it will speed up the healing process.”

  “Won’t work… silver bullet.” Colt grunted, his hands now covered in blood as he put down his knife and plunged them inside Quinn’s stomach. Bullet? His senses rushed back to him and he stopped fighting with a gasp. Shot. Quinn had been shot. The soldier had been aiming at the back of Aaron’s head and Slade had been moving to the side to get a better shot at him when Quinn had rose from the ground, her shadows racing from her. The soldier had raised his gun at the same time and pulled the trigger. The bullet had torn through the pale blue dress, into her flesh but she hadn’t noticed. She just continued on her rampage, destroying the threat with the black tendrils that coiled around her. Even as she turned around and approached him, blood soaking the front of her clothes, running down her legs and dripping to the floor… she hadn’t noticed.

  “Please… help her,” Slade gave a broken whisper though it didn’t appear as though anyone was paying attention to him. He didn’t care, he wasn’t talking to anyone in particular. It was more of a whispered prayer to anything that might be listening… to Quinn herself. He couldn’t fail another one.

  “They will work, dammit, just do it, soldier!” the small woman shouted at Colt and he sneered but when he had fished the small, dented, silver ball out of Quinn’s stomach, he did as she said. He fished some green, blue and purple mulch out of the little bag and pushed it into the wound. Quinn’s eyes opened in a flash and she released a harsh scream of agony as her back arched against the bar. Slade was by her side in an instant, gripping her hand as she flopped back down on the bar. H
e felt his heart stop beating as the small woman pushed Colt out of the way and held her hands over the open wound filled with sweet smelling herbs. Out of the periphery of his vision, Slade saw her close her eyes in concentration as a small ball of flame, yellow and orange, emanated beneath her palm. With a movement faster than the eye could track, the woman pushed the flame into Quinn’s wound. The smell of burning flesh and herbs filled the air and then there was silence. The woman took a step back and Slade cupped her cheek in his hand. Without a second thought he leaned down to place a soft kiss on her lips before picking her up and cradling her close to him.

  “She needs to rest but she’ll be okay,” the small woman murmured, placing her hand on his arm. He nodded blankly as he moved past her. Aaron opened the door for him, his face pained as he moved aside to let him through. Slade couldn’t say anything… he could barely breathe as he trudged towards the dirt path leading to his parents cabin. One foot in front of the other, it was about all he could manage. A sound to his left caught his attention and he shifted Quinn’s weight so she was learning over his shoulder as he pulled his handgun from his belt. Without a second thought he turned and emptied the gun into a soldier crouching beside the tavern. Dropping the gun at the same time as the soldier hit the floor, he readjusted Quinn against him and continued his walk. He reached the cabin, oblivious of the fighting behind him as Aaron, Dax and Colt subdued the final Mech-mutt in the centre of town. He wasn’t sure how long it took him but eventually he made it to the cabin, kicking the door with his foot, he ignored the shocked gasps of his Mother and Shay as he made his way upstairs. Gently, he placed Quinn down on the bed and stood back, just looking at her. Her dress had fallen back down, covering the lower half of her body. He shivered as his eyes wandered over the bloodied cotton, spying the small, singed hole where the bullet had broken through her skin. The bedroom door opened and his Mother walked in carrying a bowl of water and a cloth.

  “Is she alright?”

  “I… she was shot… I let her get shot…” he could barely get the words out. He felt nauseous, hot and sweaty… staggering backward as though his Mother’s simple question was the catalyst he needed to fall apart. “Mum, just like Cammy… it’s me… I can’t protect them… all my fault…” his words fell from his lips between gasps as he staggered back further until his back hit the cabinet. He whirled around, on edge, coming face to face with the family he once had. He picked up the capture off of the cabinet, running his fingers over Cammy’s face as she laughed. “She was so beautiful… so brave. I failed her and now I’m failing Quinn… Mum, what’s wrong with me?” a tear fell from his amber eyes as he felt his knees grow weak beneath him.

  “Hush now, Slade. My beautiful boy,” Molly walked around the bed, her short form encompassing his large one, in a hug only a mother could give. “You did nothing wrong. There is nothing wrong with you, except you feel the need to carry the world on your shoulders, always have. You’ve always been so strong, so proud… between you and Aaron it was always your mental state I worried about most. When you came back, talking about Shay and how she was still here I was convinced… I was wrong. You are and always have been the strongest of all of us. I never should have lost faith in that, so don’t you dare start now. You pick yourself up, Slade Azera. If you weren’t strong enough to handle this you’d be dead already.” Her words reminded him of Quinn, of something she’d told him.

  “We are not given more than we can handle, but sometimes it takes time to learn how to handle it, right?”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Quinn said it was something her Father used to tell her,” he murmured, his eyes travelling back to the unconscious redhead, feeling somewhat more in control of himself.

  “Smart man,” his Mother murmured, pulling back from him. “I’m sorry, son. I should have believed you, I was just so worried for you,” a tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another. He wanted to remain angry at her but he didn’t have the energy. He nodded, allowing her to hug him once more before she pulled back, gestured to the water bowl and said something about getting some bandages as she walked out the door. Picking up a thin blanket that he must have knocked on the floor he knelt beside the bed. Quinn looked so small, young and vulnerable laying there, her crimson hair flared out around her head like a fiery halo. Running his hand over his face he leaned forward, lifting her head and shoulders gently from the bed. Holding her there with one hand he pulled down the straps of her dress before laying her back down. The dress was loose enough that he could pull the rest of it down without disturbing her body too much. Her wound was already starting to seal over, a small hole with a cut right through it where Colt had sliced her to remove the bullet. Dropping the mangled dress on the floor his fingers lingered over her wound for a moment before he draped the blanket over her exposed breasts. There was nothing sexual in his movements or even in his mind. The only concern he had was to take care of her. He could at least get this right. He soaked the cloth into the, now tepid, water and began to clean off the fresh and dried blood. He started from the outside and slowly worked his way in towards her wound until her toned, pale stomach was clean and the water was a dark, murky brown. Before his eyes her wound had healed even more, now just a thin silver line through dark pink, puckered flesh. Checking her over he noticed some blood had trailed down her side. Gently turning her so she was leant against his body, he began cleaning it off but his hand froze above her skin. Frowning, he wiped the blood away revealing the intricate pattern of black vines that had certainly grown over her back. Deftly turning her onto her stomach, being careful where his hands touched, he moved her hair away from her back, running the silky strands through his fingers. The pattern had definitely grown, now decorating two thirds of her back and travelling around as though it would soon be marking her stomach and shoulders. He ran his fingers over it, finding it slightly raised and warm to the touch, as though she had been branded from the inside. The pattern had seemed a little hard the first time he’d seen it, with straight lines leading from straight lines; beautiful but uniform in a way. Now the lines had started to swirl and flourish at the ends, more like the vines that grew in the Outlands. Wild and free yet surprisingly rhythmic. After a minute or two of stroking the lines on her back he started to feel a little creepy so he gently rolled her on to her back. The blanket he had used to cover her breasts did not come with her, instead it had wedged itself beneath her. Cursing inwardly he reached forward, pulling her limp body towards him so her breasts were pushed against his chest as he pulled the blanket out. He was almost home free when he felt her stiffen against him. Cringing, he pulled back slowly to find a pair of irritated, vulnerable grey eyes staring up at him.

  “What-,” she began, her voice a little hoarse and cracked.

  “It’s not what it looks like, I swear,” he said, finally pulling the blanket free and practically throwing it at her in his haste to cover her up and look innocent.

  She raised an eyebrow at him, a wry grin slowly creeping over her face, “you’re cute when you’re flustered,” she croaked, her grin spreading. He gave a discreet sigh of relief, rolling his eyes at her humour. “What happened?”

  “You don’t remember?” he asked, unsure of what that meant.

  “Bits and pieces… I remember that soldier holding Aaron hostage.”

  “That’s right… then you went off cock eyed and reckless, do you remember that part?”

  “Hey… that’s not fair, Slade, I-,” she began but he cut her off.

  “Bullshit. What’s not fair is me having to carry you into the tavern so some rebellion soldier I don’t trust can perform minor surgery with a flip knife and a bottle of whiskey! Dammit, Quinn, I thought I’d lost you… I mean, we, I thought we’d lost you… you know… the mission.” And I’m an asshole. Her face fell a little, confirming it.

  “I’m going to be fine, I assure you. The mission hasn’t been compromised. Now if you excuse me, I need to get dressed,” her words were icy and he
felt like a total dick.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re right. I was reckless. I put Shay and Amira in jeopardy. Won’t happen again.” There was no warmth in her voice whatsoever as she sat forward, gripping the blanket to her chest. She moved easily, no trace of pain in her face and he couldn’t help but stare. “Well? Are you leaving? I need to get dressed.”

  “Quinn, please, forgive me. I really didn’t mean it. You… you scared me. I thought I’d lost you too.” Maybe it was her frosty demeanour, or maybe it was the realisation that he wanted the companionship and camaraderie he had felt with her earlier so badly but he felt like being honest. She sighed and turned to him.

  “I’m sorry I scared you, I just… I don’t know. I saw him standing there about to take something else from us and I… I just reacted. I mean, how dare they? How dare they treat us like we’re less than they are? Like they have the right to take anything they please? I just want to live, Slade. I don’t care about the rebellion or the cause they fight for. I don’t care about the King or what he’s doing. If that makes me a bad person, so be it. I just want to live in peace, dammit!” She’d started off calm but her voice grew louder and louder with each word, her eyes bright and for the first time he saw the true extent of the pressure she was under. Without thinking he swept forward, wrapping his arms around her. She stiffened for a moment but then relaxed into him, her arms wrapped around him and she melted into his body, a soft, dare he say contented, sigh falling from her lips.