by Joshua Khan
“Your wife must be pleased about being able to see her family again after so many years.”
That was putting it mildly. Baroness Suriya had packed the Ebony Siren with crates, trunks, and boxes until there hadn’t been room even for the ship’s rats in the hold. She’d left her home city of Nahas two decades ago and was determined to catch up with everyone.
Thorn sighed. “Wade would’ve loved this. You should’ve brought him.”
The baron scowled. “You are an idiot, Thorn.”
Thorn blushed. Wade was a squire, his best friend back home, and the baron’s fourth son. But what he wasn’t was the baroness’s son. So Wade had stayed up north while the baroness came down south. It was easier for everyone that way. Except Thorn.
What was he going to find in Nahas? Stuck-up nobles and soft-bellied courtiers from all six of the New Kingdoms.
His sigh deepened. This was going to be the very opposite of fun.
Now that the sun was low, the heat of the day was beginning to lift, thank the Six. He wasn’t used to the heaviness of the air down south. And the sailors said it wasn’t yet summer. How much hotter could it get?
You’re in the Sultanate of Fire. What did you expect?
The docks came into view.
The last time Thorn had sailed into a port, he’d been in chains. This was much better.
Chants, shouts, and laughter rolled over the sparkling blue water as dockers hauled, merchants haggled, and beasts, great and small, fought for space among all the people.
“What is that?” Thorn blinked, his heart skipping a beat. There was a giant gray-skinned monster lumbering along the pier! “It’s got a tail coming out of its face!”
The baron smirked. “It’s an elephant. They’re mostly harmless.”
“But look at those tusks!”
“Eats leaves.”
Eats leaves? How could something that big survive on just leaves?
How would he ever get used to this place?
Bells hung from the ivory tusks, and its ears, huge flapping things, were painted with flowery designs. There was a platform on its back, and a richly dressed family was perched on it, watching the crowd from on high.
Thorn took a deep breath. He was a squire of Gehenna now, not some country bumpkin. He shouldn’t get so shaken by the first strange sight. There’d be plenty more.
A thump came from below.
Sable arched an eyebrow. “He’s bored.”
Thorn grinned. “The sky’s dark enough. I’d better get belowdecks.”
Time to free the monster.
TWO
One of the sailors, Salmon, stopped Thorn at the bottom of the steps. “You letting him out?” he asked anxiously.
“He’s been trapped down here long enough. But he’s gonna be grouchy.”
Salmon gulped. “Meaning what, exactly?”
Instead of answering, Thorn covered his nose. The hold stank.
The crack in the hatch above him let in some evening light, enough for him to see the massive curve of the sleeping monster. Nets covered it—not to trap it, but to prevent it from sliding around.
A pair of angry red eyes glistened in the darkness. The shape hissed.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” said Thorn as he unhooked the nets.
Thorn then went over to the hand that was pegged to the wall. Wax covered the wrinkled old flesh, and the fingertips were black. One of the digits, the thumb, was still alight. A small flame flickered on its tip, producing a feeble thread of smoke. No wonder the creature had awoken.
The Hand of Glory—that’s what Lily called it, but Thorn couldn’t see anything glorious about the grotesque thing. It was old magic, something Lily had found in the back of the Shadow Library. After a few nights of study, she’d been able to light it and weave whatever dark magic was necessary to make it work. The smoke caused sleep. All five fingers had been lit at the beginning of this journey, but now just the thumb was burning. Thorn pinched off the flame. The wizened digit steamed, and the smoke dispersed.
The beast yawned.
Thorn patted its furry cheek. “Come on, Hades. Time for a stretch.”
A flick of a massive wing flipped Thorn over. He crashed into the bundle of nets and ended up dangling upside down.
Thorn met the angry glare of the monstrous bat. “Very funny. Now pull me out.”
Hades ignored the request. He shook his body, starting with his ears and working his way down to his saber-long claws, which tore deep grooves in the wood floor of the ship. He nibbled at a tuft of hair on his shoulder.
Thorn freed himself. “I’ll give you a proper brushing when we get out of here. And”—he rubbed the bat’s hairy belly—“I have a special treat waiting for you.”
Hades paused.
“Oh, yes,” Thorn whispered. “A yummy treat.”
Hades, pretending to be obeying Thorn instead of his stomach, dipped his left wing to let the boy climb onto his back.
Thorn settled himself between the wings and hooked his heels over the bat’s shoulders. He rubbed his favorite spot between Hades’s ears. “I missed you, boy.”
Hades snorted.
Thorn laughed. “Go on, then. Show me what you’ve got.”
The hatch groaned open, revealing the vast cloud of bats in the sky. Also Baron Sable, who was peering in. “You ready?”
How did the bats know that their king had come?
“Well, boy?” asked the baron.
They wheeled above the ship, thousands of them. Smaller than the ones back in Gehenna—no one bred bats like the Gehennish—but they had somehow sensed Hades and now clustered in the night sky to greet him.
Hades hissed.
“Yeah, I think we’re ready. How about—”
Thorn’s stomach dropped to his heels as Hades launched. One half beat of his immense wings and he was already above the Ebony Siren, scattering his smaller brethren in all directions.
Thorn gripped the thick hair around Hades’s neck as the bats streamed behind. Hades cried and extended his wings to their full length. Another hard flap and the ship below shrank to the size of a toy boat.
Thorn’s heart beat as fast as Hades rose. Two months had been too long. He’d almost forgotten what this was like.
Hades bathed himself in the crimson light of the setting sun, tipping to one side and the next to warm his old wings. He circled over the Shadow’s Blade and Thorn tried to spot Lily, but they were too high to make out anyone upon the deck.
What was it like? Everyone wanted to know, but Hades never let anyone else get near enough to try riding him.
People called Hades his pet, but that idea was stupid. Thorn didn’t command this monster. Hades chose to let him tag along. They had a mutual understanding, a partnership of sorts, but Thorn knew the smelly old bat was in charge. And Hades knew it, too.
“We’re expected at the palace,” Thorn shouted over the rushing wind. “The big building on the top of the hill!”
Hades slung himself backward, exposing his belly to the sky, and then dropped.
He and Hades often took flights over the villages around Castle Gloom. Thorn loved seeing the villagers come out and wave at the pair of them. Some even brought food over when Hades took breaks. Once, in Graven, a family had baked a bat-shaped cake for him; it was absolutely dripping with chocolate. Thorn wondered what treats he had in store here. Lily claimed Djinnic Delights were the very best candy in the world….
Beast and boy both howled as they swooped over the docks.
And people screamed.
Panic ensued.
It wasn’t exactly the reaction Thorn had expected.
A donkey, startled out of its wits, broke free of its rope and bashed through a fruit stand. Horses bolted, tossing their riders. People ran for their lives. Some rushed into doorways, others dove into the sea to escape. And the elephant…
It bellowed and lashed out with its trunk. Hades slid sideways with graceful contempt and hissed eagerly. He ros
e up over the beast, beating his wings to get in position….
“No!” Thorn yelled. “You can’t eat it!”
He should have planned this a bit better. Hades was hungry, and here was, in his opinion, a fine feast.
“No!” Thorn pulled back on both Hades’s ears. That was usually enough to get his attention.
But not this time.
The elephant rose on its hind legs, tossing its passengers into the water, and trumpeted with rage. Hades tried to get close enough to grip it, but the elephant was a big, mean old bull with tusks longer than Hades’s own fangs. And its trunk was an extra weapon to use against the monstrous bat.
Not that Hades was going to quit.
“Let him go!” yelled Thorn, shouting at both beasts.
The elephant beat at Hades with its front feet, but Hades edged back just enough, testing his claws. Then the elephant fled, smashing the gates as it rampaged off.
Thorn scowled. That was going to come out of his pay. He’d be in debt till he was a graybeard. “Now look what you’ve done!”
Hades shrugged as if to say, Monsters were made to terrify.
The bat settled on the now-empty quayside and picked at a pile of abandoned fish. Faces peered through windows and the cracks of doorways.
“He’s harmless, really!” Thorn called out. “Come out and see for yourselves!”
Then he spotted the soldiers: men with spears or crossbows and grim-set features. They clambered over the broken stalls and abandoned crates, spearmen at the front, crossbowmen behind.
“We’re leaving, Hades.”
One beat of his mighty wings and they rose high and away.
They circled a tower twice the height of the Needle in Castle Gloom. Hades snarled at the golden statue of a bird on its roof, its wings as wide as his own. Then, on a flat black patch between two huge brass-clad halls, a pattern of light began to emerge. It was fire, spelling out wavy letters, the flames themselves rising out of the hands of a red-robed boy.
“T-H-O…” Thorn nudged Hades with his knees. “There! Go down there!”
Hades circled above the flames. The boy waved up at him.
Thorn waved back. “K’leef!”
Hades turned over the gardens and the fiery letters. Then, in his own time—because he was two centuries old and wasn’t going to be hurried by Thorn or anybody—he settled back down on the earth.
Thorn slid off the bat and ran up to his friend, who extinguished the flames with a clap. The pair of them laughed as they hugged.
K’leef straightened his golden turban. “Be careful! You have any idea how much this cost?”
“You smell funny,” said Thorn. It was true. The boy had the odor of roses.
K’leef wrinkled his nose. “So do you. And not in a good way.”
Thorn wasn’t willing to be outdone that quickly. “You okay? It’s just that you’ve got a caterpillar coming out of your nostril.”
K’leef’s hand went to his thin, fluffy mustache. His frown transformed, easily and swiftly, to a big smile. “It’s called fashion, something a peasant like you will never understand.” He approached Hades and tickled the monster under his chin. “Keeping Thorn out of trouble?”
Hades gave a snort.
“You must be hungry.”
The bat’s ears flicked at the last word.
“He’s always hungry,” said Thorn, hoping K’leef hadn’t witnessed that disaster at the docks. “But he’s been asleep for the last two months. Might deserve a little snack.”
K’leef pointed to a pen of sheep a few levels down from the palace. “Think that’ll be enough?”
Hades was off in a flash.
Thorn watched him go. “I’ll be picking wool out of his teeth for the rest of the week.”
“Thought you might be a bit hungry, too.” K’leef pointed to a bronze table laden with fruit. “Where’s Lily?”
It wasn’t just any fruit, but mangoes even more golden than the one he’d paid a crown for. Thorn picked up the fattest. “Mmm?”
“Where’s Lilith Shadow, the ruler of Gehenna, descendent of the Prince of Darkness, the mistress of nightmares, the troll friend, the witch queen, whose very name is feared by the seven dukes of hell?”
“Just seven?” Thorn gestured at the big black ship still out at sea. “Seasick. She doesn’t travel well. She’ll come ashore soon enough. When it’s darker.”
“Darker? Why?”
“She’s changed, K’leef.”
K’leef frowned. “I heard her hair’s all white….”
“That? Half the girls in Gehenna have dyed their hair white. It’s called fashion,” Thorn said between mouthfuls.
They chatted as they ate, and it felt like they hadn’t been apart for a day, let alone six months. K’leef filled his ears with the victories against Lumina, and Thorn told him about the new cakes Cook had invented, some of which he’d packed for K’leef, some of which he’d already eaten. Then the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky turned a deep purple, and the first stars blinked awake.
“I reckon it’s dark enough now,” said Thorn.
As if on cue, the shadows trapped between two buildings wrinkled, and a cold wind blew through. A sinister white mist swirled in the growing blackness.
“By the Six…” whispered K’leef.
Tendrils of shadow snaked out of the gap between the light and the darkness, between this world and another, rippling over the marble floor. The plants around them withered; the grass shriveled and died. The cold grew deeper, bone-chilling.
“I’d step back if I were you,” warned Thorn.
The shadows gave way to a figure, white-haired and ebony-robed, bejeweled with rings, necklaces, and bracelets, and wearing a tall tiara made of silver and bone.
K’leef blinked in disbelief. “Lily?”
“Hello, K’leef.” Lily Shadow stepped into the garden and looked around. She pointed to a wooden bucket. “Is anyone using that?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Good.” She picked it up. “It’s just that I think I’m going to be sick.”
THREE
I should have waited till midnight.
But she’d been stuck on that ship for two months, and once the city had come into view, she couldn’t wait any longer.
Save the greatest magic for night, when the shadows are deepest, her father often advised her. It’ll take less of a toll on you then.
Lily closed her eyes, shutting off the chaos around her, and tried to quell the turmoil in her belly.
Inwardly she smiled. Shadow-stepping was always a risky business, but she’d appeared exactly where she’d planned. Having Thorn to focus on helped, and appearing outside of the palace was far easier than within—it had arcane defenses against such sorcery, and who knows where she might have ended up if she’d tried appearing in the Fire Hall.
“Here,” said K’leef, handing her a cup of something white and frosty. “It’s sherbert.”
Lily drank the icy, fruity liquid. The sour lemon taste was delicious, and it seemed to settle her stomach. Lily smacked her lips. “Got any more?”
“You’re turning into Thorn, you know that?” But K’leef refilled her cup.
“Where is he?” Lily looked all around. He’d been there just a few minutes ago.
“Where do you think? Gone to check up on Hades and make sure the beast hasn’t snacked on a stable boy by accident.”
Typical. That boy loved the old bat more than anything else. She’d just arrived, performed some major magic—impossible for all but the most powerful sorcerers—and he was off.
Fine. Let him spend the night with the stinky bat.
“That was a most impressive entrance. Never seen anyone shadow-step before.” K’leef led her into his chambers.
His quarters were huge, especially considering he was only the fourth son of the old sultan. Her parents’ rooms were smaller than these.
Palace Djinn couldn’t be more different from Castle Gloom. E
verything here was bright and airy. The ceilings were high and domed, held up by columns as slender as willow wands. Incense burned in tripods, and rosy smoke scented the air with sweetness.
Mosaics of spiraling flames spread across the floor. The floor shimmered, as if the fire would burst forth any moment. The bronze tables were covered in books, reading being K’leef’s favorite pastime, and her gaze fell upon one in particular. One with pages of metal…
“Like the place?” asked K’leef.
Lily took off her tiara, adjusted the folds of her skirts, and settled on one of K’leef’s many plump cushions. She couldn’t appear too impressed by someone else’s palace. “You need a few more gargoyles.”
“You travel through the Twilight, don’t you? What’s it like?”
“Pretty horrible.” Lily drained the second cup of sherbert, just as good as the first.
K’leef sat down next to her. “Tell me.”
“It’s cold. The kind of coldness you feel in your bones. And sad. The Twilight is a place of regret and longing, K’leef. It’s an in-between realm, not for the living, not for the dead. You wouldn’t like it.”
“And you’ve been into the Dreamtime, too.”
“Yes. I see my father there sometimes.”
“I’ve heard stories about you, Lily.”
Lily smiled. “Are there many?”
“Yes.” He shifted uncomfortably.
She could guess why. Most of those stories weren’t too nice about Lady Shadow. Her family were usually the villains in the tales told at inns and taverns. Not too surprising, given the number of vampires, zombie masters, and blackhearted necromancers that bore the Shadow name. Still, it was strange finding herself in such legendary company already.
“How is Lord Iblis?” asked K’leef. “Er, aside from being a ghost?”
How was he? She didn’t know. They met in the Dreamtime or Shadow Library so she could continue her studies with him, but her father’s ghost was growing fainter with each visit.
She pushed the thought away. “He’s fine.”
“So, the Twilight and the Dreamtime. Where else?”
“What do you mean?”
K’leef sat up, excited. “Come on, Lily. Your ancestors went much farther. Deep into the darkness. To the Pit, to hell, to all the realms below.”