The Shadow: The Original's Trilogy

by Cara Crescent

  He shrugged. “Me house is ash. Yours is overrun with Nephilim. A holiday in hell sounds like just the thing.”

  “Harry?”

  “You kidding? Duncan never takes me anywhere. I’m in.”

  “Okay.” She smoothed her hands over her shirt. “Then we just need the key.” She stepped closer to Satrina.

  Satrina smiled. “I am your key.” She grabbed Trina, ramming herself right into her.

  All the air left her as their bodies collided. Merged. Became one. She leaned forward and wretched.

  Duncan grabbed her and pulled her against his chest. “Stay calm. No getting sick.”

  For a moment her body twisted on the inside, too full, disordered.

  “Slow breaths. You’re okay.”

  She leaned into Duncan, drawing from his strength and after a moment or two, everything settled into place. Her breathing evened out. Her heart returned to a steady beat. She took stock of herself and for the first time ever, the consummate emptiness she’d lived with . . . was gone. She put her hand on Duncan’s chest. “I’m okay.” Okay . . . yeah. Maybe better than okay. I can do this.

  He helped her to her feet. “You sure? Was that supposed to happen?”

  She straightened her shirt and ran her hands down her pants, brushing off the dirt. “Yeah. I think so.” Hoped so.

  “Now what?”

  “Rowena’s notes on the legend said that when you reach the bottom and turn to the stairs you’ll see the portal to hell. It said most who saw the portal, saw themselves in the flames. They lost their minds.” Trina stayed where she was. So did they.

  “Right.” Duncan cleared his throat. “Let’s think about this logically. Yeah?”

  She wet her lips. Something back there was watching them. Waiting. “I’m open to logic.”

  On the other side of her, George growled. A loud, menacing sound ending with a low-pitched hiss.

  “Aside from Satrina, everything we’ve experience thus far has been an illusion.”

  She nodded. “Of our own making.”

  “Right.” He squeezed her hand. “So whatever we see isn’t going to be real, but it’ll be our fears or expectations, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Logically, all we have to do is close our eyes, turn around and walk forward.”

  Trina’s attention snapped to him. “Close our eyes? What if this part isn’t an illusion? I can feel something back there.”

  “Me, too. But it hasn’t done anything.”

  “He’s right.” Harry stroked his hand over George’s fur, soothing him.

  “Okay.” Goddess, please let them be right about this. “Count of three. Eyes closed and we turn around.”

  “One.” She closed her eyes. “Two.” Took a deep breath. “Three.” She turned around.

  A wave of heat washed over her and she hesitated.

  The weight of Duncan’s arm settled on her shoulders, urging her forward. Together, they walked into the heat. Shouts and crying came from all around them.

  Still, he forced her forward.

  The heat increased until she was sure her flesh would start to bubble and melt. The agonizing screams made her stomach roil.

  And then it disappeared. Cool air washed over her and everything went silent.

  Gooseflesh rose on her skin and she shivered. “Are we through?”

  Harry cleared his throat. “Ho-ly shit.”

  She had her face tipped down and when she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the ground. The grass. Black in the center and rimmed with white as if covered in frost, though it was soft beneath her shoes. She stared at it a long while, gathering her nerve before lifting her gaze to take in Machon.

  When they’d discussed crossing through the portal into Machon she’d envisioned passing into a different dimension, a reflection of the world she recognized. But maybe the portal allowed them to step across space and time right onto the surface of another planet.

  A short fence ran the perimeter of the meadow, some kind of rough, black stone fashioned into obelisks and positioned one next to the other with their pointy ends straight up. There must be a gate somewhere, but she didn’t see one. And beyond, a forest surrounded the area.

  The alien trees all sported a bright white, fleshy bark covering a deep, glowing-red core. The iridescent foliage varied from pale pinks to pale blues to deep, glowing reds. The flora reminded her of a bioluminescent species she’d seen pictures of, the kind of plants growing in the depths of the ocean where no light ever reached.

  Even the sounds were alien. Unseen life warbled and hissed in the distance. Something took flight from high in the trees. She tried catching a glimpse, but the creature sped past in a blur.

  “Goddess be blessed.” Her gaze lifted to the heavy, molten moon hanging low in the sky—not distant like the moon she’d grown used to, rather so close she could make out all the curves of the orb and the chunks of dark matter surfing over the molten liquid beneath.

  Though unwilling to look away from her new surroundings she did pull her pack off, found her hoodie and donned it.

  She turned a slow, tight half circle and came face-to-face with Duncan.

  “Welcome home.” He stared at her in that way of his, making her stomach flutter and her breath catch. “Maybe now that you’re here, everything will fall into place for you.”

  Wouldn’t that be nice? To regain control of her life. Her Magic. She opened her mouth to say something, maybe to give an apology for ending things or to ask for one from him for walking away, but she didn’t know where to start.

  Then sanity returned. He’d be safer this way. She shoved her hands into her pockets and fisted his handkerchief in her hand.

  “Shit.” Harry stumbled back, his arms pin-wheeled, and he fell on his ass. “What the hell happened to George?”

  George . . . wasn’t a cat anymore. The small creature had shrunk to about the size of a large ferret with armor-like white scales covering the top of its body from its nose to its flat, reptilian tail. Short, midnight fur covered the rest of him. Its diamond-shaped head resembled a snake’s—flat, with a wide toothy mouth. Small horns poked out of the top of its head above two overly large, inky eyes.

  Harry crab-walked backward. The creature followed, tongue lolling as if it were a game.

  “I told you that wasn’t a fucking cat. What is it?” Duncan stormed past Harry and the little creature swiped the air, warning him back. Duncan managed to grip the creature in his large hands and tossed him away like a football.

  George spun midair, hit the ground on all fours and, with a leap, he charged back, his inky eyes fixed on Harry. She tried to grab the thing as it ran past, but it dodged around her.

  Duncan grabbed Harry, pulling him behind him, but the little creature tried to go around, under, over, anyway he could to get to Harry. Duncan had the lad behind him, in front, up in his arms, cursing the whole time. The persistent little imp wouldn’t be deterred.

  If the creature morphed, it must still be George. Must still have the same nature as the animal she’d known on Earth. Trina held up her arm. “Wait.”

  Duncan froze with Harry slung over one arm and his leg stuck out in the opposite direction.

  The two reminded her of a novelty balance toy. She pressed her lips together. Laughing at them would get her nowhere. “Let them go and see what happens.”

  Duncan’s brow lifted. “Are you daft?”

  “Did you see the teeth?” Harry asked.

  “George didn’t hurt Harry.”

  Harry rolled his eyes. “She’s right. Just startled me when I glanced down, expecting to see a cat in my arms and found that thing, instead.”

  She propped her hand on her hip. “Is he hurting you?”

  “No.” Duncan growled, but lowered his leg, allowing George to crawl up him and onto Harry. “Don’t know how he does that. He’s not using his claws to climb.” He shook his head.

  George paused halfway up Duncan’s chest and hissed.
>
  She followed its line of sight, saw a blur of a white streak through the fleshy branches overhead. “He doesn’t like something up there.”

  Duncan scanned the trees. “I didn’t get a good look at it.”

  “Me, either.” George finished his climb and jumped to Harry. He nuzzled Harry’s chin with his diamond-shaped head, letting out a gurgle of pleasure. Tentatively, Harry gave it a pat.

  “See.” She stroked her hand over George’s scales. “Seems friendly enough now. He was never that happy as a cat.”

  Duncan snorted. “Nothing’s happy when it’s not being what it’s meant to be.”

  She lifted her gaze to meet the challenge in his. “You have something to say?”

  “I said it.”

  Harry jerked his chin toward her. “Can you zap us to the tower?”

  “Not without knowing where it is.” She’d never been here before. She needed to at least see the tower. “Besides, until I know how my Magic is going to react to this place, I think it’s best if I don’t use it unless absolutely necessary.”

  “You see this?” Duncan motioned to a boulder that had been polished and engraved on one side.

  IN MEMORANDUM OF OUR SACRIFICED CHILDREN

  JUNE 1588

  MAY THIS PORTAL NEVER BE OPENED AGAIN.

  Great. So the daemons here weren’t exactly looking forward to the Original’s return. The grove of trees surrounding the meadow stretched in every direction. A chill spider-walked up her spine and she pressed her hand to her belly. “We should find the tower.” Preferably before they ran into any daemons.

  They spread out, walking along the perimeter of the fencing. Up close, she realized the individual black obelisks were porous. They were made of some kind of volcanic rock. She found a lever sticking out between two. “I think I found it.” She pulled the handle. Three of the obelisks lowered into the ground. A siren went off.

  She swung around.

  Duncan waved her on as he ran her way, Harry right behind him. “Go. Go!”

  The banshee wail startled strange birds and insects as large as her hand from where they’d been hidden in the surrounding trees. The whole grove came alive as the creatures scrambled to escape the noise.

  She took two steps out of the gate and stopped. Not everything had run. Dozens of creatures like George were scrambling down trees, surrounding them. They sat there with their wide, toothy mouths unhinged, tongues lolling like reptilian puppies.

  “Jesus.” Duncan slowed to a halt. He tugged on her arm. “Let’s go.” He pushed Harry ahead of him.

  All the creatures followed.

  Duncan stopped.

  So did they.

  He took a step to the left, dragging Harry and her with him.

  The creatures followed.

  “Great.” He turned to go around the enclosure they’d been in, and came up short. “Damn.” They stood on a cliff overlooking a valley. In the distance, a tower rose high above the horizon.

  She nodded. “Okay. We know where we’re going now.” She couldn’t be sure, but it looked like there was some kind of landing near the top.

  “I’d prefer to walk.” Duncan motioned to the tower. “We don’t know what the hell we’re going to be walking into if you zap us there.”

  “Good point.” A Watcher lived in that tower and they had no idea what to expect.

  More of the creatures had gathered. They were everywhere, surrounding them, edging closer. George hissed and curled himself tighter around Harry’s head.

  “They don’t seem aggressive, but he”—Duncan pointed to George—“sure doesn’t like them.”

  “Do you think they’re dangerous?”

  They scurried along, jumping over others to find empty patches of ground to sit and watch them. All those inky eyes tracking their progress. There was no clear path left.

  Harry struggled to remove George from his head. “Get off!” He lowered his voice. “Look, they’re friendly, you grouchy little shit.” He reached out to touch one.

  Duncan jerked him back. “Don’t.”

  “What’s a matter?” Harry arched his brow. “Is the big bad vampire scared of the itty-bitty—”

  Duncan popped the kid on the back of the head. “Enou—”

  The minions swarmed. Growling and snarling, teeth and claws bared. All headed for Duncan.

  She didn’t even think, just put a hand on both Duncan and Harry and spell-traveled.

  ****

  A moment before the air had been cold on his skin and now it was hot as . . . well, hell. The scent of sulfur laced the air. He glanced at Trina. “Thanks.”

  George curled around Harry’s neck and hissed, his inky eyes fixed on Duncan. What the hell was wrong with it?

  Trina flicked George on the nose. “None of that. Bad. No.” George stopped, but his gaze didn’t waver. “This one seems to be protecting Harry.”

  The kid grinned. “Maybe they all were. Better be careful, D.”

  “Whatever, pup.” He walked to the end of the balcony and stood at the low wall. Steam covered everything. “Can you do something about this? I want to see what we’re looking at.”

  She mumbled a spell under her breath and held her hands high over her head. With a quick, outward, downward sweeping motion of her arms the mist blew away, leaving them a clear view.

  Far below them a moat of lava churned, and beyond that the blackened ground sprawled for miles before the walls of a city rose in the distance and icy peaks of mountains stretched across the horizon. He walked around the curved balcony and let out a low whistle. “Look.” He pointed at strains of sunlight cresting the horizon.

  “Sunrise?” Harry asked.

  “Can’t be.” Trina leaned against the low wall enclosing the entryway. “Legend claims there’s no sunlight in Machon.”

  A terminator line. “Not on this side. The planet must not rotate on an axis like Earth,” Duncan said. “It’s locked into an orbit like our moon.” But beyond that line eternal day would burn anything that ventured too close. A lake of fire, just like it said in the Bible.

  “Yeah, well, sounds like hell to me,” Harry said.

  He watched for a few more minutes, his eyes dazzled by the line of bright light stretching across the seeable horizon. He had no idea what the Watchers were like. If he thought she’d allow it, he’d have Trina wait here, but Augustina said she and Lilith were the only beings able to see or speak to the Watcher without an aid. Nothing for it; he had to bring her in.

  “Kasdeja lives here.”

  He forced his attention away from the horizon. “How do you know?”

  “There.” She pointed to the top of the archway where KASDEJA had been etched into the stone. “He was one of the twenty leaders of the two hundred fallen angels. Taught mankind to fight with spells and weapons.” She shrugged. “He’s a fire Watcher. At least, when we do spells, we use fire to represent him.”

  “Great.”

  Harry cleared his throat. “Sure you don’t want to shop around for another tower? Might be something safer, maybe a Watcher of fuzzy bunnies.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Let me check it out before we all go bobbing in there. I won’t try to talk to him without you, just want to make sure it’s safe. Yeah?”

  She wet her lips. “Not a chance in hell.”

  Yeah, he hadn’t expected that to work. She had no faith in him. “Fine.” He strode through a large stone archway that opened into an immense chamber. No one was around, but he had the distinct sensation of being observed as they made their way deeper in.

  The doorway appeared tiny from the center of the chamber, as if he’d eaten one of Lewis Carroll’s cookies in Wonderland. What needed such a gargantuan space in which to reside?

  He turned a full circle, searching for any clues as to what they were about to meet. Arches ran across one end of the curved room and off to one side, was a large mound of something. Upon closer inspection he found a fortune. Gold and silver, jade and diamonds, all tossed in a pil
e. “Bloody hell.” He let out a low whistle that bounced off the walls. “This Watcher gig pays well.”

  “What’s that?” Trina joined him.

  Harry reached forward.

  “No, don’t.” She stayed his hand. “This is Kasdeja’s house. Those belong to him. My mom used to tell me stories about the old coven making a pilgrimage every year to petition the Watchers. They’d bring gifts and—”

  Gifts? Duncan looked at Trina. “Did we bring a gift?”

  She nodded. “Nothing this fancy, though.”

  He snorted. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

  George growled low in his throat. Harry bent, running his hand along the floor and held his hand up for inspection. “Know what you mean.” He held up his hand for Duncan. Cupped inside, he held a gray, powdery substance. Ash. “The whole floor is covered with it.”

  “Bloody hell.”

  There were a lot of destroyed daemons on the floor.

  *****

  Trina wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but this—a massive empty room—wasn’t it. Augustina had said she’d be able to see the Watchers. Talk with them. “Maybe the Watcher that’s possessing Crowley lived here.”

  The whole building shook.

  “That didn’t sound good,” Harry said.

  The second time, they looked at each other.

  Duncan’s brows drew together. “Footsteps?”

  The third time, they turned around.

  A fiery-colored dragon lumbered through arches on the other side of the room.

  “Fuck me running,” Harry whispered.

  Her gaze narrowed on the thing. Both Duncan and Harry saw it—that wasn’t the Watcher, so what was it?

  Harry elbowed Duncan. “Ask it your question.”

  His face scrunched up. “It’s a dragon.”

  “Ask.” Harry gave him a little shove. “It’s what we came for.”

  He glanced at her and she shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe it’s a . . . guard or something.”

  “Uh, hey there, mate.”

  The autumn beast came closer, lowered his head until the snout hung mere inches from Duncan. Hot tendrils of smoke poured from its nostrils.

  It wasn’t a real dragon. Insects made up the scales—red ants, yellow wasps, tan scorpions—giving the creature a mottled hue of fiery colors, but they were moving, climbing over each other, making the scales change from red to brown to yellow to orange.