Shadowglade

by Kay L. Ling

  He couldn’t be serious. What could be wrong? She laid a hand on his arm. “Things can’t be that bad. Give it some time. You’ve only been back a week.”

  Franklin’s brown eyes misted with tears and he looked down at the counter. “My wife, Karen—I knew she wouldn’t be waiting for me, but she had me declared legally dead, and now she’s remarried.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Lana said, hating how inadequate that sounded.

  He looked up, and the grief on his face touched her. “Even if she hadn’t remarried, things would never have been the same between us, and I understand that. But it’s the kids. That’s the worst part. When I called Scott and tried to explain my disappearance, he swore at me and hung up. Rachael—well, that went a little better. She didn’t hang up, but she doesn’t buy my amnesia story. She thinks I abandoned them, and she doesn’t want anything to do with me. I have grandkids, but I’ll never see them.” He broke off and wiped his eyes.

  Lana’s heart ached for him. “They’re not thinking clearly. I’m sure they’re glad you’re alive, but right now they’re shocked and confused.”

  “If only I could explain where I’ve been,” he said miserably, “but I have no employment records, no medical records. I don’t even have a driver’s license. My brother’s been decent to me, taking me in and listening to my story, but he admits it makes no sense to him. How could I be gone this long and finally get my memory back, but not be able to give an account of where I’ve been? His wife, Hannah—I see the unspoken accusations on her face.” He took a deep breath. His hands were trembling. “What was I thinking of, coming back here? Even without family problems, starting over isn’t easy—finding a job, getting a car and a driver’s license, making new friends. It’s overwhelming.”

  “Disappearing again isn’t the answer,” Lana told him firmly. “Your daughter may accept you once she gets over the shock—your son, too.” She squeezed his arm. “I know this must be terrible, but you’re strong. You’ll get through it.”

  He went on as if he hadn’t heard her, “If I stay, I’ll need a place of my own. I can’t mooch off family forever. My wife liquidated all my assets—bank accounts, pension, everything. I’m penniless.” He rubbed his forehead. “Where am I going to get a decent job at fifty-two, especially with no recent job history? No, I’m better off in Shadow with Jules and Elias, and they can use my help.”

  Lana took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Wow. I don’t know what to say. I never thought about how hard it would be to come back. I’m sure Elias could use your help, but I hate to see you give up so soon.”

  He looked relieved that she was starting to see his viewpoint.

  “I suppose going back to Shadow isn’t the end. I mean, you can stay in touch with your brother and children, or at least try to.” She looked out the front windows where cars passed in a steady stream. “Not having a car is a problem, but I can give you a ride whenever you want to visit.” She met his eyes and held them. “Just don’t make it look like you’re running away again. Get an address. It doesn’t have to be a local address, but somewhere people can reach you. And you need a computer or a cellphone. I can teach you how to use them.”

  “I can’t afford any of that. Besides, modern technology intimidates me. I feel like I’ve stepped into an episode of Star Trek.”

  “It’s not as overwhelming as it seems, and I can do most everything for you. I can set you up with an email account and check your mail once or twice a week. And a post office box isn’t expensive. I can take care of that too.”

  “You’d do all that for me?”

  “Sure.”

  Franklin sighed wearily and nodded. “Maybe this could work.”

  “Look, take a couple days. Make sure this is what you want. Greg, Jordy, and Jules are coming to my place on Thursday. You’re welcome to join us. If you want, Jules will take you back to Shadow afterward.”

  His face brightened. “I’d love to come. Thanks.”

  “The boys’ moms are dropping them off at my place at five. If you want, you can meet me here at four and ride out to the park to pick up Jules.”

  “Great. I’ll be here.”

  Lana opened one of the showcase doors and took two gems from a tray— hematite and aquamarine. “Give me your hand.” Franklin gave her a puzzled look but did as she asked, and she placed the gems in his palm and then put her hand over his. “Hematite gives strength, optimism, and courage. Aquamarine gives courage, foresight, and happiness. I’m going to direct those powers into your body.”

  A few weeks ago, she couldn’t have done this—not without using Jules’s knife—but spending time in Shadow had enhanced her abilities, so not only could she use gem powers for her own benefit, she could help others. For that matter, holding the gems had become optional due to her infused powers, but physical contact magnified the effects.

  After a moment, the worry lines eased from Franklin’s face, and the haunted look faded from his eyes. He smiled.

  “How do you feel?”

  “I wouldn’t say I’m happy, but I feel more optimistic, and I’ll settle for that.”

  “It may not seem like it, but you have a lot to be thankful for,” she said as she put the gems away. “You’re human again, and you’re not crippled anymore. That’s a good start.”

  He turned to look out the front windows, and Lana followed his gaze. A fine coating of snow was starting to stick to the pavement. Somewhere up the street, a car horn tooted impatiently.

  “Well, I’d better get going. See you Thursday. Thanks for everything.”

  She watched him go and shook her head sadly. He’d been through so much, and even now, his troubles weren’t over. It was so unfair. Good thing S wasn’t within reach right now. It would be tempting to squash that miserable beetle flat.

  Chapter 9

  When Jules walked into the barn, at least a dozen maraku, often called “cart beasts,” stood in their stalls, contentedly munching grain. They had thick, curly, reddish-brown coats and reminded him of oxen from home. Powerfully built, strong and even-tempered, they were ideal for hauling passengers or carts of ore.

  Jules heard the scrape of a shovel and spotted Xenon, formerly known as “X,” inside one of the stalls, shoveling dung into a wheelbarrow. Perhaps sensing someone watching, Xenon paused and looked up.

  “Hard at work, I see,” Jules said, folding his arms. He wasn’t sure what to say next, or whether to be stern or kind. Lana had a way with breghlin. She treated them kindly and they responded to her, but they might not respect that approach from a man.

  “Never was no slacker. Ya want a cart brought ‘round?” Xenon asked, eyeing him warily.

  “No, I came to—well, it’s nothing to do with maraku,” Jules finished, feeling awkward. Xenon was sure to resent his request. “Elias and I have been looking for the armory, and I imagine you know where it is.” He gave the breghlin what he hoped was an intimidating look.

  Xenon just stared. He probably thought it was funny that two gem masters couldn’t find the armory. They had searched every room in the castle, including the storerooms in the basement, and hadn’t found any weapons. Elias had even tried a gem known for locating lost items, but that hadn’t worked either. The armory—if it existed—was outside the castle, or warded, or both.

  Xenon wet his lips. “I know where it be, Gem Master, but it be warded with dark powers.”

  Great, Jules thought, trying to hide his disappointment. After the fiasco with the spell book he had a healthy respect for S’s wards. The last thing he wanted to do was unleash another retaliatory spell. “I don’t need to get in right now; I just want to see where it is. Will you take me there?”

  A variety of emotions crossed the breghlin’s face. “She wouldn’t like it,” he mumbled, staring at the floor.

  “And we won’t like if you refuse,” Jules said. Unlike S, he would never beat Xenon or punish him with gem powers, but Xenon didn’t know that. Lana had tricked the breghlin into freeing her fro
m the dungeon, and he had paid a heavy price for being so gullible. Elias and Jules had found him in the dungeon half-starved, his arms and back scared from repeated whipping. Suddenly Jules felt guilty for intimidating him. “Look, I won’t force you. I’m asking it as a favor.”

  Xenon finally nodded. “Ya let me outta the dungeon an’ let me stay an’ work here.” He set down his shovel. “I’ll take ya. It’s unnerground in a hill. Behin’ an iron door. Without S, yer’ll have to break the shieldin’ ward to get in.”

  Assuming they could break the ward, Jules thought gloomily. It would help if they knew which warding spells S typically used, but thanks to the ommort mirkstone, S’s spell book was useless.

  Jules found Elias with a group of gnomes on the terrace, drinking tea at a wrought iron table. It was strange to see Elias here, and even stranger to see gnomes on the terrace rather than breghlin. Sheamathan had spent many leisure hours here, enjoying the view of her garden.

  Elias looked up and waved Jules over. “I’m glad you’re here. Please join us.”

  Jules pulled up a chair and sat down, declining Elias’s offer of tea. The air was thick with tension. “What’s wrong?” he asked without preamble. Five of the gnomes were castle guards, but he didn’t know the sixth.

  Elias folded his hands on the wrought iron tabletop, which had spiders, beetles, and pythanium worked into the design, and said gravely, “We just received news that breghlin from Six Wells Mine have walked off the job. No one has been enforcing quotas these days, so their duties have been lighter, and we thought they’d continue to mine. It’s to everyone’s benefit, including their own.”

  “Breghlin have no use for gems,” Jules said.

  “Exactly so, and they’ve been happy to deliver them to S in exchange for food and other goods. I had planned to continue that arrangement.”

  “Can we bargain with them? Convince them to go back to work?” Jules asked, directing his question to the unfamiliar gnome who must have brought the news.

  The gnome didn’t answer, but his grim expression was answer enough.

  “First, we have to find them,” Elias said. “They’re roaming the countryside, getting into fights and causing no end of trouble.”

  “You and I could go there and threaten any we find with gem powers, but then what? We can’t stay and keep an eye on them.”

  Elias gestured toward the unfamiliar gnome sitting next to him. “Markopin lives near Six Wells. He says he’ll lead a company of gnomes there, but they need weapons—weapons we don’t have.”

  “We would rather not get involved,” Markopin said, “but if these miners join savage clans living near Six Wells, things will only get worse.”

  The other five gnomes murmured their agreement and one, a young black-haired fellow, said, “We can gather a hundred gnomes by tomorrow and be at Six Wells by nightfall the next day. Unfortunately, as it stands, only a third of us will be armed.”

  Jules didn’t like the sound of that. “Can you get by with so few weapons?”

  “Possibly,” Markopin said. “We’ve heard that the overseers were the only ones issued weapons. But the miners may have homemade knives and such. It would be best to go well armed.”

  Elias leaned toward Jules. “Did you have any luck with Xenon?”

  “He told me where the armory is, but it’s built into a hillside and warded with dark powers.”

  Elias frowned. “Xenon might have told you that just to keep you away.”

  “No. Unfortunately, it’s true.” He pointed past the garden to a hill that was a little higher than the rest. “That’s the hill. Malevolent energy radiates from it, especially near the entryway.”

  “That might not indicate a ward. What you felt could be a ploy to frighten away would-be thieves,” Elias suggested.

  “I assure you, the ward is quite real.” Jules rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm. Red welts covered his forearm. A murmur of alarm rose from the group. “When I got near the armory, I felt a sense of dread, so I took out my knife and proceeded cautiously, holding the knife in front of me. The blade began to glow, and then turned blinding white. A searing pain shot up my arm. I stumbled backward and Xenon ran off like a startled deer.” Jules pulled down his sleeve and buttoned it. “My hand was protected since I was touching the Fair Lands gems in the hilt, but my arm didn’t fare so well.”

  “Those sores look awful,” one of the gnomes said.

  “I used healing gems briefly to ease the pain, but I wanted Elias to see the sores before I did anything more.”

  Markopin asked, “Do the sores indicate what kind of ward Sheamathan used?”

  “All I know is it’s something complicated,” Jules said, looking at Elias. “She must have used a spell.”

  “I think you’re right,” Elias said. “First came the warning—the sense of dread—but you kept going, and then I assume you breached the ward, which triggered the welts.”

  “There’s an energy shield, too, that’s part of the defense system. It feels like a repelling force.”

  “Interesting,” Elias said, narrowing his eyes. “I feel certain she used ravilor as part of the ward, since it’s the only gem I’m aware of that produces welts, but I have no idea what gems and spells she used to create the energy shield.”

  “Can you consult her spell book?” one of the gnomes asked.

  Jules gave a humorless laugh, and Elias looked embarrassed when he said, “S was fond of using wards—which we discovered when I opened her spell book.”

  The gnomes exchanged worried glances. “I trust you were not injured, Gem Master Elias.”

  “No, but we don’t know the full effects of the ward yet,” Elias admitted. “When I opened the book, I activated an ommort mirkstone. Fortunately, we found the ommort and destroyed it a few hours later, but it had already activated a spell that erased every word in the spell book. And for all we know, there were more spells whose consequences we haven’t yet seen. I should have been more cautious.”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” one of the gnomes said. “Why would you expect the book to be warded? You were the only one who posed any threat to S, and you were—he broke off and looked down at the table, finishing awkwardly, “Well, a ward shouldn’t have been necessary.”

  His meaning was plain. Elias had been S’s confidant. Not exactly an ally, but not an enemy, either. They had maintained a live-and-let-live relationship for decades.

  “If you can’t break the ward, we’ll make do with the weapons we have,” Markopin said.

  Elias looked toward the armory with a troubled frown. “I believe we can, but it will take time. We may be able to alter the ravilor and render it harmless, but the energy shield poses a greater problem.”

  “Alter the ravilor? How?” As soon as the words left Jules’s mouth he knew the answer. “Is there a Fair Lands gem that interferes with it?”

  “I hope so.” Elias saw the gnomes’ confused expressions and explained, “Some Fair lands gems alter or disrupt Shadow gem powers. As a result, the gem may lose most of its power, work only intermittently, or develop a new power that replaces the original one. And new powers are never dark.”

  “Never dark? Why is that?” one of the gnomes asked.

  Elias took a sip of tea, which was probably long since cold. “Fair Lands gems all have beneficial powers, and that influences the nature of the change.”

  Jules said, “My knife didn’t keep me from getting sores, so either Fair Lands gems don’t affect ravilor, or my knife has the wrong gems.”

  “I’ve never tested ravilor, and since I can’t handle Fair Lands gems anymore, you or Lana will have to do so.”

  Some experiments were harmless, but this one wouldn’t be, and Jules wouldn’t risk Lana’s safety. “I’ll run experiments when I have time.”

  “For now, we’ll lend the gnomes our spare weapons, although I regret to say we haven’t many,” Elias said. “Until now, we’ve barely needed weapons. The mere threat of gem powers has been
enough.” His expression brightened. “Speaking of gem powers . . . Jules, this would be a good time to try the experiment we discussed on Sunday.”

  For a moment, Jules didn’t know what he meant; then he remembered they had planned to use his knife to test the gnomes. “I forgot about that.” He handed the sheathed knife to the gnome on his right who took it automatically, but looked confused.

  “Unsheathe the knife and see if anything happens when you hold it,” Jules told him.

  The blade remained dark and Jules finally said, “Now, sheathe it and pass it on.”

  The next gnome, a young fellow with bushy eyebrows and a thick beard, reached for the knife. His awed expression suggested he realized this was the legendary Challenger’s blade. Elbows braced on the table, he held the knife with both hands until Jules said, “That’s long enough. Pass it on.”

  The next gnome looked wary as he took it, and said with a nervous laugh, “According to legends, this is a powerful weapon. It won’t set my hair on fire, will it?”

  “You have nothing to worry about,” said the previous gnome.

  And then the blade began to glow. He let out a startled cry and nearly dropped it. The others broke into excited conversation, and Jules and Elias exchanged surprised glances.

  “Good,” Jules said. “That’s what I was hoping to see. What’s your name?”

  “Shezek,” the gnome replied.

  The test continued. The fourth gnome had no better results than the first two, and he passed the knife to a young fellow with a short black beard who gripped the hilt so tightly his knuckles turned white. The knife refused to glow.

  Markopin, the last to try, clasped the hilt with both hands and stared at the blade. It began to glow and everyone let out an excited, “Ooohhhh!”

  Markopin handed the knife back to Jules.

  Elias said, “This proved to be an interesting test.”

  The gnomes looked at Elias expectantly, but he didn’t say anything. He seemed to be considering the ramifications. “I have as many questions as answers,” he said at last, “so before we discuss the experiment, let me ask you a few questions. Turning to the gnome who had first activated the knife, he asked, “Shezek, by any chance are you related to Markopin?”