“If I was, could you blame me?” Jervin said with a shrug. “Madigan, you have the makings of a brilliant commander, and you’re the finest student I’ve ever trained to use a sword. But more than that, you care. You want the best for all people, you bring out the good in them. The Aeril I left was broken and hurting. It needs someone like you.”
“I don’t know,” Madigan said as he ran a hand through his hair. “I think I’m more suited to swordplay. Can’t you teach me to train and be a Blademaster, like you?”
Jervin chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, Madigan, if only it were that easy. We’ll talk. Once we’ve arrived and you’ve seen Undermyre, we’ll talk. We’ve got time.”
Will looked at the aged man before him, conversing with his brother about leadership and making connections, and felt a pang of jealousy. They’re planning a life without me, he realized. They’re already talking about leaving me and moving on. Something inside him began to ache, but he fought against the urge to interrupt.
“Regardless, there’s still much to learn for both of you,” Jervin said. “We’ll have more time for details while we’re on the road. One thing is absolutely paramount, Will. Do not discuss your Shade with anyone.”
“What? But I thought the whole point of Aeril was that they understand.”
“It wouldn’t do for the wrong people to be made aware of it. Yes, people are aware of the power, but it’s a different culture there, a different world entirely, and one filled with superstition. Protect yourself until you reach Umbriferum.”
“Why does it need to be secret?” Will asked. “It makes sense here, I know, but all the stories you’ve told make it sound like it’s a perfectly normal thing in Aeril.”
“It’s dangerous, Will,” Jervin insisted. “The wrong type of person could try to do you harm simply because of what you are. We can protect each other well enough but I’d rather not risk it.”
Sighing, Will relented. “Okay, you’ve got my word.”
“Really, Grandda,” Madigan chimed in, “you’ve trained us well. We know how to fight. If it comes to that we can handle it. Hopefully, however, it won’t.”
“Indeed,” Jervin said with a smile. “But I’ve tried to prepare you more than just training you to fight. As it stands, I’ve put together supplies to get us into Aeril safely, assuming all goes well. They’re in our old storage unit, a few miles down near the river. Madigan, you remember the one?”
“Where we used to keep the canoe before it sank?”
“That’s the one. We’re about to wrap up here. When we get back to the house I want you two to go get them. It’s not a lot to carry but it’ll go quicker with two.”
“We can do that, sure,” Madigan said.
“What will you be doing?” Will asked.
Jervin leveled a stern gaze in Will’s direction. “I shall be doing the most important thing that can be done before we leave. I shall be cooking dinner.” His face broke into a grin and all three laughed.
“The entrance is nearby, then?” Madigan said. “I mean, if what we need to travel with is light enough for Will and me to carry, it’s got to be nearby.”
“Yeah,” Will said as he thumbed the knives again. “Plus, something tells me you would’ve wanted to stay close and keep an eye on it, just in case.”
“Very good,” Jervin said, nodding in approval.
“Mount Hood?” Will said as he raised an eyebrow at his grandfather. “Or hidden somewhere in the forests nearby?”
Jervin shook his head. “Not quite.”
“It would be hidden, though,” Madigan mused. “But hidden nearby. Something closer than the mountain. Something hidden in plain sight.”
Jervin smiled and nodded. “Keep going.”
“The Ways are like tunnels, right?” Will piped up. “So it has to be underground.”
Jervin stayed silent as the two boys racked their brains. After a moment, both looked up at him and shrugged.
“Need a hint?” he asked them. They nodded. “Well, in that case you’ll have to press me more.”
Will eyed his grandfather. Have to press more? Press Grandda? He knew he didn’t mean it in the sense of pushing him harder for a hint; that was the hint. When you press someone, you’re trying to get something out of them. You’re pressing them for service.
“Ha!” Madigan said as he clapped his hands together. “I’ve got it!”
Jervin held up a hand to Madigan and looked at Will. Pressing him for service. His mind rolled it over and over. Pressed for service and hidden in plain sight nearby. Nearby Portland. Then it dawned on him.
“The Shanghai Tunnels,” he said. Madigan shot him a confused look as Jervin smiled. “The entrance is in the Shanghai Tunnels.”
Will thought of everything he’d heard of them, a sprawling set of dilapidated and decrepit tunnels that spanned the city beneath its streets. Back in Portland’s early days, when it had been a major port for the west coast, the tunnels served as a means of transport for unloading ships that docked in the river. But urban legends told of a different purpose, a dark purpose. They fueled the underworld with a haven of opium dens, prostitution, and slave labor. Sailors could be drinking in a bar when a trapdoor would spring open under them and the next thing they knew they’d been press-ganged into slave labor aboard ships. A web of dangerous corridors and traps awaited any prisoner who attempted escape.
“Impressive again, Will,” Jervin said. “Beneath the tunnels, though, not in them.”
“Damn,” Madigan said. “I’d gotten the press-ganging part so I was thinking of the river. How’d you get to the tunnels from that?”
“Another name for getting press-ganged is being Shanghaied,” Jervin said. “Rumor has it, that’s where the tunnels got their name.”
“But how did Will get there?” Madigan asked, raising an eyebrow at his brother.
“I read it in a book, back when I was reading all those pirate histories,” he said.
Madigan just kept staring at Will. Finally, he shook his head and looked away. “You and your damn pirates.” Will just grinned and shrugged so Madigan went on.
“Alright, Grandda, if the entrance is just in the tunnels, how come no one has found it?”
“Well, it’s been over a century since the tunnels fell into disuse. The majority have either been flooded by the river, collapsed, or purposefully filled in to create stronger foundations for new buildings. There are no maps, no lights, and they’re falling apart at every turn. They’re practically death traps now, even more than they used to be.”
“Sounds like fun,” Mad said, his voice laconic. Will eyed him warily.
“But even before that, the entrance was protected,” Jervin continued as if Madigan hadn’t spoken. “It had its own perils in addition to wards to guard it from prying eyes. No one who didn’t know what they were looking for would have been able to find it.”
“Couldn’t you have just said it was hidden?” Will said, his nerves rattled by the notion of underground passages scattered with ancient booby traps and magical protection. “That would have made it sound mysterious and kept the appeal.”
Jervin laughed. “A bit less excited now, are you? We’ll be fine, kiddo. I know the way.”
“And I’ll even bring a flashlight to protect you from the dark,” Mad said with a grin. Will gave him a light shove and cracked a smile. As long as we know where we’re going, we’ll be fine.
“Regardless,” Jervin said as he rose to his feet, “let’s get home. We’ll rest and relax tonight then be on our way before first light.”
Will and Madigan grinned and stood. Around Will’s waist, the belt and the blades it housed moved silently with his motion. His thumb absentmindedly started rubbing one of the gems again. Today is awesome.
“Ah, yes, one small point of official ceremony before we go,” Jervin said. He reached into his pockets and removed the keys from where he had stored them. Will’s head swam as he looked at them again, their colors seeming suddenly mo
re vivid. How had he ever thought they were identical?
Jervin held a key in each of his hands and held them to his chest, closing his eyes and whispering something that neither of the boys could hear. When he opened his eyes, he extended his hands outward. “As Keeper, my body forsakes the protections of the one, but my blood embraces it. Once protection of three, now broken to two, may their guidance and luck extend unto you. C’thak n’eran sangueras.” He opened his palms. “These are yours now, yours alone. Keep them secret. Never let anyone else possess them.”
“Nice speech, Grandda, very poetic.” Mad grinned as he fastened his key about his wrist.
The remaining bit of cord on Will’s was slightly longer than his brother’s and he was able to tie it around his neck. It was heavier than he expected. The key settled against his skin at the base of his neck and stayed there, seemingly sending faint waves of electricity coursing through his body. He was taken by a brief twitch between his shoulder blades and a few involuntary blinks, but then the sensation passed and all was normal.
Will shook his head a few times and moved around a bit to familiarize himself with the feel of the necklace, but it was unnoticeable, not in the least bit foreign. It settled and rested against his skin in the same way the dragon fang had settled into his hand, the same way the belt had along his waist.
Jervin, who had seemed to be holding his breath, visibly relaxed. He leaned down and picked up the remnants of their meal and the footlocker. “Alright, well, let’s be off then so you two get home before the sun really begins to set. I want to make sure that—”
He was cut off by a loud explosion, close enough that the ground shook beneath them. The sky darkened rapidly as plumes of darkness shot into the air. Not only the sky, it was the air, the earth, everything was growing darker. Yet off in the distance Will could still see the sun shining brightly.
He glanced around as clouds of smoke began to rise into the air, their blackness offset against the greying world. Smoke that seemed to be coming from a direction that housed only one thing: home.
The color drained from Jervin’s face. His eyes grew wide as they beheld the rising plume of smoke. “It’s impossible, how could…” His voice was hoarse and broken and tired, the voice of a very old man.
“Grandda,” Madigan said, his voice barely audible over the distant rumbling. “What’s happening?”
The air became frigid. Will felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He had never seen his grandfather scared, let alone terrified. That whatever was capable of evoking that emotion from such a powerful man was near their home made his mouth grow dry. A thunderous, distant collision reverberated through the air and his eyes snapped back to his grandfather.
“Gods be damned,” Jervin said, throwing down the footlocker. “Run!”
Will’s knees trembled.
They ran.
7
Keeper's Fall
They rounded the curve in the levee and Will saw the thickening smoke billowing and furling upon itself. It rolled and cascaded, a smoking snow globe of ash and fire. At his side, Madigan cursed. Jervin remained silent, only increasing his speed. A terrible sense of foreboding twisted Will’s insides—there was no doubt, the smoke was obviously coming from their home.
They pressed onward and Will eased the knives in their sheaths. He again became aware of the key resting against his chest as it seemed to begin pulsing, rhythmically fluctuating between warm and cold. As its pulses grew in intensity, a tingling sensation gripped his limbs. Despite the circumstances he couldn’t help but grin at the sensation, so alive and foreign.
They crested the final slope of the levee and halted, the grin slipping from Will’s face. A short distance away stood a horrific caricature of their home. It was as if the house had been obliterated from within, the yard covered with the scattered remnants of the house’s exterior. The scorching wooden timbers of its framework were the pyre upon which Will’s entire life was burning. The grand cedar tree, engulfed in flames, was broken at the base and sagging against the ruined house.
And the fire, Will realized, there was something about the fire. Something unnatural in the scorch marks and burns. He studied the flames, which were dark purple and red and gave off no blinding light. The smoke was a terrifying shade of black that seemed to wrap in on itself. Within the globe, the very world seemed to have plunged into a mystical darkness, all sources of illumination winked out. Despite the roaring carnage, no heat came from the flames and, as the family drew closer, no smoke filled their lungs.
“I’m too late.” Jervin’s voice was nearly inaudible. The quiet terror in it sent ice through Will’s veins. Automatically, his knives found their way to his hands. Madigan clasped his arms together and formed a massive shadowblade. The two brothers looked at Jervin for direction. There were tears in his eyes.
“No,” the old man whispered, the quivering order sounding hollow.
The word was as much of a shock to Will as the horrific scene. “What?”
“This is the work of Valmont,” Jervin said, shaking his head. “You need to get to the supplies. Now.”
“Grandda, you can’t expect us to go.” Madigan’s voice trembled with rage as he pointed the noctori toward the inferno. “That’s our home!”
“Don’t be a fool, Madigan!” Jervin shouted over the roar. “You don’t understand, there is so much you still don’t know. Neither of you are experienced enough to contend with—”
Whatever their grandfather was going to say was suddenly cut off mid-sentence. The air grew still, the crackling of the fire disappearing into silence as a guttural hiss crossed the air.
“Keeeeperrrr…”
Will froze. A shape was forming in the haze. The air grew stagnant and wretched, a heavy, putrid smell of iron and bile. The shape, the size of a man at first, grew and seemed to solidify as it began to pull itself forth from the midst of the wreckage. Around it, the unnatural fire silently consumed all in its path. The devastation of his home was forgotten as fear gripped Will’s mind.
By the time Will could fathom what was happening, the creature was gargantuan, something more terrifying than any nightmare. Its slick, oily red skin was so dark that at first he thought it jet black. The monstrous creature slavered, its gaping maw of jagged fangs nearly half the creature’s size, each drop of drool sizzling and steaming upon the charred ground. Ridges along the folds of its back, jagged and broken, projected at least five feet into the air. And as it moved, the shadowy darkness moved with it.
Two massive forelimbs dragged its torso as tentacles at the base of its back gripped the ground and propelled it forward. It pulled itself through the flames, smoky tendrils of shadow swirling around its base as it lurched in their direction with unnatural speed.
“Light’s fall,” Jervin swore, his voice regaining its strength as he whirled on the brothers. “I told you to run!”
He left no room for response as he hurled himself down the embankment and into the smoky field to meet the creature. The darkness surrounding the brothers began to withdraw, light again breaking through as Jervin raced forward.
“It controls it,” Mad said, his voice shaking. “That thing controls the darkness.”
“Is that a Shade?” The words fell from Will in a gasp. “Gods, Mad, it has a Shade.” Never, not even in his dreams, had he imagined a creature such as this. A sickening crunch shattered the eerie silence as the remains of the house crumbled in the distance.
“We have to do something, Mad,” Will said, his eyes stinging from the smoke. “We can’t just let him do this alone!”
Madigan spun to face his brother, his face suddenly calm and collected. “We won’t. Come on.”
He turned and ran toward the flames, the noctori angled behind him as he closed the distance. Will hesitated only briefly before following, looking at their grandfather. Jervin had reached the creature and paused. He was weaponless, defenseless, and anything that might have aided him was engulfed in the fallen structur
e. He would be obliterated in a heartbeat.
And then Jervin rushed in, faster than Will had ever seen him move. He shot past the creature and toward the crushed remains of the fire pit. As the creature spun to follow, Jervin thrust his hands into the rubble-strewn, sandy ground of the pit and withdrew a massive claymore in one swift motion.
Will stared in amazement. Darting this way and that, Jervin maneuvered the magnificent, shining claymore in his hands, light as a feather, nimble as a fencing foil. For the first time, Will truly saw the Master of Blades at work.
He was sprinting before he even recognized the will to move, knives downturned in each fist as he chased after Madigan. He had no plan, nothing in the years of training having even remotely prepared him for this situation. All he knew was that he needed to be there. I need to help.
Despite its size, the creature’s speed seemed matched with his grandfather’s. Wherever Jervin moved, the creature was there, lashing out, snapping its terrible jaws. The Shade surrounding it was moving in ways Will had never considered, stabbing, slashing, bludgeoning, doing everything it could to pierce Jervin’s rapid defense—for Will quickly realized that that was all Jervin could manage, pure defense. No matter how fast he moved or where he positioned himself, the creature was always a step ahead of him.
Madigan was doing his best to stay at the creature’s back, opposite his grandfather. He was slashing wildly at the tentacles whenever the noctori came within reach, but his speed paled in comparison to the creature. Not only that, but Will realized that speed was not the only force acting against them. As he drew nearer, the darkness grew thick and heavy again, the air even more vile. He could scarcely breathe, let alone keep his eyes open for any extended period of time. Madigan at least had the reach of his noctori to aid him, something Will’s knives severely lacked.
In the haze he tried to gauge the positions of his family. The air was so thick he could scarcely hear his brother’s battle cries and the only sounds from Jervin’s direction were the wet hisses and snarls from the beast. The sound was sickening. Will could only hope they were in frustration at its elusive quarry. He spaced himself equally between the two and stalked forward into the darkness, pressing himself low, blades at the ready.
Shadowborne Page 6