by Kade Cook
Orroryn can see the wheels turning within Shane’s mind, hoping he has reached the logical side of it. “And, it would mean a great deal to them and to me as well.”
Shane stops moving for a moment, only to glare at Orroryn. “But she is a Boragen—a bloody Vampire,” he yells. “I have trained all my life, from the time I could wield a weapon, to destroy these things and now you are asking me to put my life on the line for it?”
“Yes. That is exactly what I am asking.” Without missing a beat, he continues speaking before Shane can interrupt. “Oh and It, is a she. And she is the direct blood of a Silver,” his voice softens, not rising to Shane’s challenge. He realizes that if he gives Shane an ounce of fuel, he will just continue on with his fury. “So you might want to try and remember that when we meet with Jarrison and Sarapheane tomorrow to swear your oath of Shadow Guardianship.”
“Besides the fact that this is ludicrous, you know how I feel about Vampires.” Shane’s face turns bright red, exasperated by this defeat. “What do you want me to do...save her from herself?”
“Shane, not every Boragen is a bloodthirsty Vampire. You cannot keep judging every single Borrower you come across as vicious rogues with no respect for the law like the ones that killed your Parents.”
“Oh no?” he spits at Orroryn. “Watch me.” Shane grabs his coat from the back of the chair and walks away before he says something he will regret.
Orroryn knows Shane. He has been the boy’s caretaker for a nearly a century, and he knows that when it comes right down to it that Shane will do the right thing. He will take on this request for he is through and through a Shadow Walker.
Throughout the Realm, Shadow Walkers are known as the most honourable of all the Fellowships—held in the highest of regards. This bestowment is seen as a great honour and for this reason only, Shane will take the oath.
Chapter Thirty-Six
After Midnight
CIMMERIAN SITS STRAIGHT up in his bed, feeling the presence of an unwanted guest. He looks at the clock; it is three in the morning. Twisting his hand in the air, a dark purple ball of energy appears from his palm and hovers over his bed like a disco ball. It creates a shimmering black light effect and illuminates the room just enough for him to see who is sitting in the corner chair—although he did not really need the light to know who it is.
“What do you want, Adrinn?” Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, Cimmerian tries to focus on his company.
“Oh. You are awake. Great! I did not want to wake you.” Adrinn taps his fingers together in rhythm with Cimmerian’s clock’s second hand, and his mouth turns awkwardly upward into a demented smile that would disturb even the darkest of souls. “I was enjoying watching you sleep though. Did you have a nice dream?”
Cimmerian’s mind jumps back to the last memory of his dream and finds his daughter’s face as the only image he can recall.
“She was such a lovely girl,” Adrinn taunts, drawing out each word in a slow dramatic speech as he glares at Cimmerian with unblinking, cold eyes.
Realizing Adrinn played with his subconscious, and it had been he that made Cimmerian dream of her. The orb hovering above them flickers and sparks in response to Cimmerian’s sudden flood of anger.
“Enough of your games, Adrinn,” Cimmerian snaps, closing his eyes. His knuckles whiten as he clenches his fists in an attempt to soothe the itch of the fire that dwells within them—burning just beneath the surface, and aching to be released with his silent wish of ridding himself of this irritating pest. “Tell me why you are here disturbing what few precious moments I have to myself.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Adrinn jeers, shaking his head primly at Cimmerian. “Really now, is that any way to treat your company?”
“Adrinn! I swear I will escort you back to Erebus myself if you do not get on with it!”
“Fine! Since you are going to be like that.” He turns away, pretending that Cimmerian’s shortness with him has hurt his feelings somehow. “I need you to do something for me.”
Cimmerian can already feel the dread creeping inside him for even thinking about giving this deranged monster any kind of help. “What is it that you want now?”
He grins at Cimmerian, sickening him—knowing whatever it is that Adrinn wants will not lead to anything good. “I want you to disable Jarrison and Sarapheane’s Shadow.”
“What?” Cimmerian shouts at him, pinching the bridge of his nose and glares at him through squinted eyes—shaking his head in disbelief of the absurd request. “You are out of your mind. No!”
“It is only temporary.” Adrinn stares down at his outstretched hand, admiring the shape of his nails then pulls his gaze away to glance at his host. “Just for an hour or so.”
“What in the Realm for?” Cimmerian opens his eyes and stares at the lunatic infesting his peace and quiet, hoping for some kind of an out.
Adrinn softens his face, masking it with sincerity in order to assure Cimmerian that his intentions are completely on level. “I just need them out of the way for a bit. It would seem that the girl fancies the company of Shadow Walkers, and I would like to have the opportunity to spend some time with her without one of them stepping out of a shadow and interrupting us,” he explains. “It is really no big deal, Cimmerian. I just need some privacy with her. Then after that, they can pop in and out of the shadows to their heart’s content.” Adrinn’s explanation becomes animated as he waves his hands around as if he is performing a child’s puppet show. “Oh and by the way...” he adds once he stops moving. “I need this to happen exactly at noon tomorrow, okay? No sooner, no later. Do you think you can handle that?” Adrinn demands snidely, infuriating Cimmerian whose patience wears thin at the condescension in his tone. Adrinn has him hanging by a thread, and he knows that, trying not to break the delicate ties.
Every nerve in Cimmerians body screams at him to throw this lunatic back into the Darkness where he belongs, but his mind cannot let go of the possibility of seeing Symone again.
“Fine,” Cimmerian concedes. “But only for an hour. After that, you will have to find some other way of entertaining your demented mind.”
“Excellent decision, old boy.” Adrinn claps his hands together and jumps up out of the chair, straightening the imaginary wrinkles on his suit--preparing to take his leave. “You are such a lovely friend. I am so glad that we get to spend these precious moments together.”
“Get out!” Cimmerian yells, waving his hand in dismissal of the annoyance in front of him, causing the flaring disco ball to launch straight toward Adrinn’s head. The orb’s mission is a direct hit but passes completely through its target without damage. Adrinn simply snickers at Cimmerian’s reflexive act of frustration.
“You really must work on your people skills,” he taunts, tugging on his lapel and fading into the Darkness.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Fallen Shadows
RICHARD GRAY RUBS his eyes, weary from the long twelve-hour night shift he has just put in at the Brightside Boat Company in Northeast Harbor. In celebration of finishing their last boat order for the day, he opens a beer and drinks it down quickly before heading home. Pulling the keys out of the pocket of his brown Carhart jacket, he slowly walks to the parking lot and climbs into his Ford Escape.
After starting the engine and heading out of the parking lot, he turns right on Main Street, heading for Seal harbor where his bed awaits his return. From out of the murky depths of Erebus, Adrinn takes his place in the passenger’s side of the truck beside the unsuspecting driver. Richard jumps and pulls instinctually at the wheel, startled by the sudden appearance of the ominous creature siting no more than two feet from him. The truck swerves to the right as he jolts, almost landing in the ditch.
“What the...” Richard gasps as Adrinn’s pupils widen and pulse, pushing through the driver’s consciousness to seize control of his mind.
“Now be a good lad and turn this hunk of junk around. We have a date with destiny to keep,” Adrinn
says in a sickeningly sweet voice.
Richard nods his head robotically and slows down the truck to a full stop at the side of the road before making an unauthorized U-turn back toward town, headed for the Somes Sound passage. Adrinn rubs his hands together briskly in anticipation of the trip as Richard continues on his course, driving faster and faster along the narrow road with Adrinn in full control of the out-of-control driver.
***
JARRISON HOLDS HIS hand out to help Sarapheane as she gets up away from the table at the Sea-Wich—their usual brunch spot. As dependable as clockwork, they have spent every Monday here for as long as they can remember.
Like the true gentleman he is, Jarrison never fails to get Sarapheane’s jacket first and have it open, waiting for her. She turns to face him. Her eyes gleam with admiration and love for him while he gently pulls at the lapels of her coat, drawing her nearer to him. He lets his fingers slowly brush against her long dark hair, tucking back the loosened locks behind her ear.
Jarrison leans down to rest his warm gentle mouth against her temple and kisses her softly. Turning, he takes his place by Sarapheane’s side and waits for her to take his arm as they depart.
From the Sea-Wich, they take a left turn and begin their usual scenic drive down Somes Sound, heading for Northeast Harbor. Jarrison scouts out across the water that fills the fiord of Somes Sound and watches as an osprey dives down from the cliffs—quickly snatching up its dinner from the waters below.
He sees Sarapheane smiling at him from the corner of his eye and gives her hand a tender squeeze, bringing it to his mouth. “I will never get tired of this.”
“Tired of what, Jare?
“Of holding your hand...of being near you.”
Sarapheane grins girlishly. “You are such a smoothie, Jarrison Shadwell.”
“No, I mean it.” He kisses her hand again. “I would be lost without your smile to wake up to every morning.”
“Well, Mister Shadwell. It is pretty easy to smile when everything you will ever need is sitting right beside you, holding your hand.” She winks at him, and Jarrison gives her hand another gentle squeeze as she turns back toward the window to gaze out across the sound.
“Do you think Gabrian is doing okay?” Sarapheane probes, her eyes still turned away as she studies the ledges of the wall of rock on the other side of the fiord, looking for wildlife.
“She is fine. You worry too much,” Jarrison comforts, glancing briefly in her direction with a one-sided grin while gripping her hand. “She is way too stubborn to admit defeat.”
“I guess. She never was one to give up.” Sarapheane smiles at the recollection of the daunting trials and tribulations of Gabrian’s determination as a child. “Cera would be so proud.”
“Stop worrying so much. Gabrian knows we are here for her if she needs us. I’ll tell you what. If it will make you feel better, we can drop by later after she is done working and check in on her. Okay?” Sarapheane’s face lights up with delight, pinching the edges of her eyes with a smile that grows across her mouth in anticipation of seeing her daughter again so soon.
Jarrison smiles, knowing Sarapheane is fighting the urge to leave for Manhattan this very instant. “Anything for my girls.” He raises her hand to his mouth again and kisses it once more.
He peeks over at her and his heart begins to ache wildly. Looking back at the road, he notices a vehicle heading toward them, and it is coming fast.
“Sarah...” Jarrison tightens his grip on her hand, just enough to get her attention.
“Yes, Jarrison?” she answers, pulling her attention from her daydream of visiting Manhattan soon to rest her gaze on her husband.
“Something does not feel right.” He gives her a quick glance. His sea green eyes, now serious, flare as a flag of caution.
“What do you mean?” Sarapheane questions, seeing the warning in his eyes. Her own eyes, now on high alert, dart purposely around at the world encompassing her.
“I don’t know. It is just a feeling.” He stares unblinking straight ahead, though his voice remains soft, it wavers, unable to hide his fear. “Be ready.”
Both of their eyes locate the nearest Shadow within the truck. Sarapheane turns to Jarrison and sees the glistening of real concern haunting his eyes, hardening his expression as his lips fold under his teeth—pressing tightly together in to a grim line across his mouth. She slowly faces front and watches the road, noticing the truck heading toward them.
She feels the rift in the energies too.
***
ADRINN SNEERS AS he sees exactly what he has been hoping to see up ahead. “Floor it!” he commands in a hiss. Richard’s foot increases its pressure on the accelerator until the pedal lies flat on the floor of the truck, sending it on a dangerous course forward.
***
JARRISON STEERS THE truck as close as he can to his side of the road—careful not to get too close or they risk the possibility of weakening the edge and going over the cliff. Sarapheane holds Jarrison’s hand tighter and tighter as the truck speeds closer.
“He is crossing the line, he is...Jarrison!”
“Into the Veil, Sarah! Jump!”
Sarapheane tries to grasp the edge of the Shadow below her, but the fringe is not there. Her efforts are in vain. “It is no use...it’s gone!”
***
WITH ONLY SECONDS to go before impact, Adrinn sits upright, tugging the edges of his lapel. His eyes gleam seeing his target only feet away and smears his face with a smug, repulsive grin.
“All right, then…time for me to go. I would love to stick around to watch the ending of the show, but you know how fickle survivors can get if in fact they do survive. Let us just say, someone might snitch on me, and we cannot have that now, can we?”
He looks over at his driver and pretends to pat him on the shoulder.
“Best of luck to you.”
Adrinn releases his hold on Richard’s mind—hoping he has gotten what he asked for—and vanishes, leaving Richard still dazed and confused from his mind compulsion to face the eminent onslaught of disaster.
***
SARAPHEANE AND JARRISON look at each other one last time, knowing this may be goodbye. Jarrison unbuckles his seatbelt and leaps across the dash of the truck, using his body as a shield to protect Sarapheane from the oncoming vehicle. The white Ford Explorer heads straight toward them and barrels full throttle into the front corner of the Shadwell’s vehicle, causing the pickup truck to flip violently into the air and crash headfirst into the cliffs below, consumed in a fiery rage.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Paradise Lost
GABRIAN LOOKS UP from her file when she hears a knock on the door. Rachael enters her office, clouded by a heavy aura. Something is wrong; she can feel it and see the seriousness of it on Rachael’s face, but she does not breach Rachael’s mind to find out why. She promised Rachael before that she would leave her friend to her own thoughts.
Orroryn appears from the dark corner of the room to her right, his eyes shadowed by the storm brewing within them-making his face flat and void of readable expression. His focus darts from Gabrian, then across the room, immediately finding Rachael, and she blankly stares back at him. No one says anything, and it irritates Gabrian to no end. Promise or no promise, she cannot stand the silence any longer and pries into both their minds.
She does not understand what it is she sees at first. Then the images and thoughts come together—all the unfathomable news broadcasts loudly in her head.
Gabrian’s heart begins to pound so hard she is unable to hear anything Rachael and Orroryn say. Everything around her decelerates, and she feels herself being pulled downward by an invisible unstoppable force. Unable to do anything about it, her legs give out from beneath her as she descends.
Orroryn bolts across the room, noticing her falter. His arms stretch out in front of him, quickly trying to catch her before she hits the floor.
From that moment on, everything fades in and out for Gab
rian. She sees Rachael trying to say something to her, but her words sound slurred and incomprehensible, like she is speaking to her through a long tunnel. Gabrian is completely lethargic and just nods in response, lost in her own world.
“You take her home,” Rachael instructs Orroryn, who still cradles Gabrian within his arms. “I will take care of things here. She needs to be in Maine.”
Orroryn tries to smile, but his lips quiver, and the attempt is lost. “I will make sure she is settled. If you need me to, I will come back to escort you to the Shadwell’s home.” Rachael’s heart jumps at his kind gesture, but a cloud of guilt pours down on her for thinking about herself at a time like this.
“Thank you, Orroryn. Please meet me at her apartment tomorrow morning. I will gather some of her things she will need for the...” Rachael fights back her grief, trying not to cry. “I will go stay with her as long as she needs me.”
Orroryn stands up, holding onto Gabrian a little tighter as he crosses the room. He glances back at Rachael for a brief moment then steps forward, slipping into the Shadow’s Veil with Gabrian in tow.
FOR THE NEXT few days, only flashes of people coming and going in and out of her parents’ house registers with Gabrian. Their words of support and efforts to try and console her in this time of hardship fall of deaf ears. All she can do is smile and nod, not able to find the strength to speak.
Rachael arrived the next day after Gabrian with the help of Orroryn. She set up her things in one of the small rooms downstairs and vowed to stay until she feels Gabrian does not need her any longer.