The Shadow Watch

by S. A. Klopfenstein

  Merri nodded, her face glowing in the torchlight. “All Shadows are not as dark as they seem.” She echoed the very words Valeria had spoken to Tori only hours before. Some are biding their time... Valeria and Merri were working together?

  Mischa pulled Tori into a tight embrace. Tori had never been so relieved to feel the warmth of a friend. They were alive. They were free.

  “W-what about the others?” said Tori. Vonn and Sahra and Ren… they’re all back in chains.

  Merri pulled them apart, her hands grasping their shoulders. “There’s no time, I’m afraid. Come, girls, we must be swift. It is time for the Gallows Girl an’ her comrade ter run far away from this gods-forsaken madness.”

  Part XII

  Night Of Blood & Teeth

  Beware the dark, little children,

  With sweet delight, it lures you in.

  In dark of night, it lies and waits

  For boys and girls to wander late.

  Beware the dark, little children,

  With sweet delight it lures you in.

  Don’t go out to tempting night.

  It searches there for flesh to bite.

  Beware the dark, little children,

  With sweet delight, it lures you in.

  Do not tarry, and never stray.

  It waits beyond for little prey.

  —a children’s song of the North

  35

  The chamber was chaos, and sanity hung at the edge of a great precipice. The Legions were losing their minds in bloodlust and restlessness, and if Darien let them have anything now, it would all be over.

  Gerdy was the soldier who had tossed up the bucket of Watcher blood after Valeria refused the Legions their spoils. Darien had trained with Gerdy in the Shadow Camps. He was a hothead, but he was a loyal comrade.

  He was also inciting this riot, and Darien had to assert his dominance once and for all. Darien did not like it, but he knew there was no other choice. When he was named captain, the Morphs embraced him. If the chancellor had chosen Darien to lead this mission, then they trusted he must be worthy. But when Darien had been put in command over his old regiment for the infiltration of the Watchtower, there was some resistance from his old comrades.

  Jujen tried to hide it, but Darien could tell that even his young Faerish friend resented his sudden rise in the ranks. They had been comrades—equals. They had sparred at the Shadow Camps. Jujen had helped Darien become a decent marksman. They had been bunkmates for over a year, and now, suddenly, Darien was a Morph commanding them all.

  That was what this riot was truly about. The Legions were testing him, and Darien could not afford to fail this test. They would be marching out of these catacombs in the morning, and the chancellor would parade the Watchers, and most importantly, the Gallows Girl, before the people of Osha. The turned Watchers would pledge themselves to the empire, and the world would be changed. But not if the Shadows descended into madness before they reached the surface.

  The chancellor stood at the edge of the chamber, and Darien felt his eyes, as though they were spyglasses, fixed only on him. This was a test of his leadership, and the chancellor was watching to see what he would do, to see if he had made the right choice.

  Darien could not let his master down. In his Morph form, Darien took flight, grateful for the vastness of the domed chamber. He landed upon Gerdy, talons at the boy’s throat.

  It was over in an instant. Gerdy bled out from the gash in his neck, and the chamber went silent.

  Darien morphed back to his human form and cradled the boy in his arms, holding him until the last breath. It pained him to feel the boy’s warm life draining between his fingers, but if he had learned anything from the chancellor, it was that sacrifices were sometimes necessary for the greater good.

  Every soldier and Morph was silent, waiting to see what the captain would do next. When Gerdy had gone still with death, Darien stood, the blood thick on his hands and uniform.

  “This is a mission unlike any other.” Darien addressed his soldiers coldly, with the confidence of a king whose word was law. “We will not conduct ourselves as we have in other missions. The fate of the empire is in our hands, comrades. I will not allow any one of you to put that empire in jeopardy! You will act like the servants you are, and if anyone else breaches command again, you will wish you would have been devoured by Rulaqs!”

  Jujen was the first to stand at attention. Darien hadn’t noticed him during the uprising, but he was grateful he was here now. Everyone in the regiment revered Jujen, and if he submitted, the others would follow. Jujen saluted him. “Aye, sir! You are our chancellor’s chosen leader, and we will do as you command!”

  Rikken was the next to recite the mantra. And the other Shadows soon followed, saluting and declaring their loyalty to the chancellor’s chosen captain.

  Darien breathed a sigh of relief. The chancellor caught his eye and nodded his approval. Darien had passed the test.

  While the soldiers dispersed and returned to making camp, Valeria came to his side, sheathing her saber. “You did well killing Gerdy, Captain. It was a necessary sacrifice.”

  He should have said, Of course! I know what I’m doing. I am your captain, as well. But truth be told, he needed Valeria Sardona’s affirmation to ward off the guilt and insecurity that had plagued him since he’d been made captain. What was it the chancellor saw in him?

  He and Valeria had been through so much together, and if there was one person who could make him feel that he had what it would take to get the Watchers to Osha, it was Valeria.

  “Thank you, comrade,” he said with a nod. The room filled with the smell of porridge as supper was served. But both of them stood back and watched their old regiment go about their nightly routine. The chancellor withdrew to his own chamber, walking slowly and with a slight stagger.

  Darien had never seen Cyrus Maro so weak, and it worried him. The chancellor had always seemed so… in control. But he was clearly shaken after the events of the Watchtower. Darien knew the passage between the worlds had taken its toll on him, and Medea’s absence surely plagued him. The witch had always unnerved Darien, but he knew she was important to the chancellor’s plans, and he feared for her life and for the Shadows who had been lost in their mad flight from the Rulaqs.

  But in addition to all this, Darien feared there was more to the chancellor’s weakened state. They had defeated the Watchers, and yet Darien felt as though they had been conquered themselves. Monsters had returned to the world, and he feared they never should have been brought back. Darien considered talking his fears over with Valeria, but he thought better of it. It would not do to question the chancellor in front of a subordinate.

  “It’s strange to watch from the outside now,” Valeria said. “To be… something else.”

  Darien should have said, Nothing feels strange. We are meant to be what we are. But instead, he simply nodded.

  Valeria grimaced and glanced about the chamber. “One more night, and we’ll be rid of this gods-forsaken place.”

  One more night, and they would be back in Osha. The chancellor would soon be wed to the Watcher princess of the Yan Avii. The Watchers would no longer be a secret, nor a threat. They would not be Watchers to the New World. As the chancellor had told him, the Watchers were a myth born from a lack of understanding of the magic in the world.

  Magical beings would be known as the chancellor’s servants, just like the Morphs. The Watchers who wished to live would join the Morphs to form a new army—the Sky Guard—or they would join the fate of the Gallows Girl.

  Tori…

  Darien tried to push the thought aside, but it was difficult. As much as he hated to admit it, he felt no pleasure seeing his old friend suffer. He did not let it show; he knew it was necessary, but—

  Valeria squeezed his wrist subtly as she walked away to set up her own tent. Again, he was filled with reassurance that he had what it took to lead. Darien surveyed his soldiers for a while longer, but his eyes wandered
back to Valeria. It was nights like these he longed to be closer to her. Of course, it was improper for comrades to think of one another in such a fashion, and for some time, he had managed to keep the thoughts at bay. But lately, the notions had been taking him off guard.

  Another thought crept up: What of Tori?

  Gods, what of her? She was a threat to the empire. And besides, they had never been anything but friends. Very close friends, sure, but… He thought back to their last night together. When she’d kissed his cheek and they had fallen asleep together in Scelero’s stables and his skin had felt like it was on fire.

  Gods! Where is Tori, anyway?

  Throughout the march, Darien had kept his distance, but she had always been under his attentive watch. In the chaos of the Legion uprising, he had gotten distracted. Now, he realized she was not chained with the other Watchers. And she was not the only person who was not where they should be.

  Ol’ Merri! A sick feeling rose up from his gut. Surely Merri was not stupid enough to—

  Darien was about to rush to the back reaches of the caverns to find Merri, when a shrill scream filled the chamber. It was desperate and riddled Darien’s body with violent chills. The Legions froze where they stood, tent stakes and cookery still in their hands.

  There was a second scream.

  Someone appeared at the entrance to the chamber. It was Hollen, who had been one of those chosen for the first watch. Hollen tripped and fell to the ground.

  “We’re under attack!”

  Hollen clambered to his feet, his face distorted with fear. The front of his breeches was soaked through. His eyes were wild, skittering about the room like a madman. Darien had never seen a soldier look more terrified in his life.

  “Run! Run!” Hollen shrieked.

  A creature leapt into the chamber, as though launched from a cannon in the darkness. The thing was deathly pale, its body little more than a skeleton with skin draped loose over its bones like burial cloths. It reminded Darien of the children from the Fringes—their corpses. But this creature was no starving Fringe rat that could barely raise its head. This creature was strong and fierce, and though it looked like death, it was very much alive. It leapt with unconscionable force, crossing a span of fifteen feet from a crouch. It landed upon Hollen’s back.

  Before Hollen had time to emit a dying shriek, his head had been wrenched free of his shoulders. The creature tossed the head into the middle of the room, and took a ravenous bite from the expanse left behind.

  The creature looked up, blood dripping from its lips, and smiled, then returned to devouring Hollen’s body.

  A second creature entered, and the chamber turned into chaos—terrified soldiers stumbled and panicked and shrieked like village children during a raid.

  A third creature entered.

  Darien had never thought the legends true. They were ghost stories meant to keep children from wandering too far from their villages. But there could be no denying what these horrid creatures were.

  “Nosferati!” cried a soldier, unfortunate enough to have made camp near the chamber entrance. In a moment, he was a carcass, splayed open. More and more creatures entered and swarmed like wolves upon him.

  36

  The shrieks and blood of soldiers filled the air. Muskets fired madly, but lead seemed to have little effect on the Nosferati pouring into the domed chamber. Darien drew his saber, not a moment too soon, decapitating one of the creatures as it leapt at his head.

  The attack came in waves. During the first wave, the entire force of at least fifty creatures attacked and devoured the Legion soldiers. But their mad hunger was a blessing in a way, for it gave those who survived time to retreat and form a defense before the second wave.

  Once their hunger was sated, the creatures picked their way through the ranks with methodical precision. They worked together, formed diversions. What little strands of humanity might remain of the beasts, their intelligence seemed fully intact. They did not decapitate and feast any longer. They wasted no time, cutting throats with razor claws and taking bites out of jugulars. The more the Nosferati slaughtered, the more creatures there were leaping and tearing apart the Legion ranks. Darien realized the Nosferati were multiplying when he saw Rikken’s corpse rise, his skin turned the grey of his Legion uniform. The horde grew larger and larger as the Legion forces dwindled.

  During the first wave of the attack, the Morphs managed to move the Watchers to the chancellor’s corridor, and the chancellor’s armies bravely fended the creatures off. But the catacombs formed a winding labyrinth. All passages might connect somewhere in the dark. Any moment, the creatures might appear from behind, and they would all become grey cannibals.

  Darien slew another creature, fighting to hold his balance as he maneuvered over a floor of bodies. Another comrade rose from the dead a short distance away.

  Gods, it’s Jujen!

  Jujen’s skin was the color of ash and his eyes were like little holes of night. He leapt with sudden, unfathomable strength, straight at Darien.

  Darien hesitated, only for a fraction of a moment, but it was enough. Jujen landed upon him, teeth bared. Darien lost his grip on his saber, and he and Jujen fell, rolling upon the ground. Darien twisted away and managed to land a kick that sent the creature flying back.

  Jujen leapt again with renewed rage—

  Darien reached for his belt—

  His dagger met its mark at the nape of Jujen’s neck. Darien fought back tears as he shoved the boy’s fully dead body away. He could barely see through the smoke of frantic musket-fire. His ears rang and his head throbbed.

  A hand grabbed him from behind. He was about to thrust with his dagger, when he heard Valeria’s voice.

  “Thank the gods!” she cried, holding out his dropped saber to him.

  Without another word, the two formed up, back-to-back, the way they had back at Goran’El, and swung their blades in tandem, taking down one, two, three of the nightmare creatures.

  The Nosferati began to tear through the ranks. Several bounded through the entrance to the chancellor’s passage.

  “The chancellor!” Darien cried.

  Together, Darien and Valeria morphed and took to the air, soaring past their comrades. They landed beyond and made for the adjoining passage where the chancellor had made camp. At least three Nosferati had come down this corridor, and Darien prayed the chancellor was already gone, that his master had heard the deathly cries and disappeared with his godstones.

  But the chancellor did not flee.

  Three of his royal guard lay dead. The chancellor, in his Morph form, loomed over the severed body of one of the Nosferati. Vashti knelt on the ground beside another creature. The tents were a shredded mess. Darien sprinted to his master. The chancellor was bleeding from a wound in his shoulder and shaking.

  “Were you bitten?” Darien asked.

  “N-no,” said the chancellor. It was the first time Darien had ever seen his master show such visible fear. “J-just a rock. I fell.”

  “You must flee, milord!” cried Valeria, who helped the chancellor’s new queen to her feet. Vashti Burodai was shaken, but alive, a bloodied blade still clutched in her hand.

  “Like hell, I must!” said the chancellor.

  “Please!” said Darien. “Use your stones. I will get the Watchers out.”

  The chancellor pulled the stones out of his cloak, eyeing them warily. Darien knew he feared to use them again. “N-no, I will not abandon—”

  “As your chosen captain,” Darien interrupted, “I will not risk your life and the fate of Osha! You are too valuable. You must use the stones, milord!” Darien could not believe he was defying his master. Momentarily, he worried he had signed his own death sentence.

  But the chancellor nodded to him, clasping his fingers around the stones. “I see I chose my captain wisely.”

  Another creature came bounding down the passage from the main chamber. Darien surged forward and met it, dodging its attack and severing its h
ead in one fluid stroke.

  “Go, milord! Now!”

  The chancellor took hold of Vashti’s hand, and the stones glowed brightly. He grimaced, but his resolve held strong. “Darien,” he said. “You must get the Gallows Girl to Osha!”

  “I will, milord!”

  “The fate of the New World rests upon you, Captain!”

  Mists swirled around the chancellor and his queen-to-be, and in a moment, it was only Darien and Valeria in the chamber.

  “What do we do?”

  “We’ve only one chance,” he said.

  Darien rushed over to the mess of tents and rummaged around frantically. It took longer than he hoped to find the explosives. From within the guard tent, Darien heaved up a sack. It was one of the Morgathian firebombs from Goran’El. “We get the Watchers! Then we blow the mountain down behind us!”

  They had brought two bombs, leftover after the defeat of the Morgathian rebellion. They had been intended for the destruction of the Watchtower, but had proved unnecessary. However, there was only one left in the tent. Darien tried not to let his terror show, wondering where the other bomb had gone. He could only hope it was hidden somewhere beneath the shredded canvas.

  Darien and Valeria rushed back through the winding passages, back toward the main chamber. At the entrance, Commander Zamel had formed the Legions into three lines, bayonets jutting out like spears. As men in the front line were taken down, men in the second line rushed in to take their place, and those from the third line filled in behind them. The Morphs were wreaking as much destruction as they could in the domed chamber, but many of them had fallen.

  Behind the wall of Legions, half a dozen Morphs stood guard over thirty Watchers. Several had been lost in the first wave. There were only a few in chains. Darien scanned their faces, but he already knew what he would find. Tori was not among them.