Shadowborne

by Matthew Callahan

  “What?” Madigan blurted out.

  “Surely you’re comfortable navigating the common folk of our small city,” Cephora grinned as the bartender giggled. “Come now.”

  “Oh, right,” Madigan said, attempting to bluster his way back to some sort of composure. “Yes. Whiskey, please.”

  The bartender’s smile remained but her eyes gave Mad a pitying look. “What’s that, now?”

  “Oh, right, sorry,” Madigan said with a flush made only deeper by the red accents of the room. “I meant, um, Will?”

  Mad’s nudge snapped his brother’s attention back from the dancing girl to the bartender.

  “We’ll do a bottle of Fita’Verxae, thanks,” Will said with as much confidence as he could muster under the watchful eyes of Cephora and the bartender.

  Cephora whistled and eyed him appraisingly as the bartender beamed.

  “Fita’Verxae?” She laughed. “Not quite. I’m afraid we’re not that kind of establishment. Try again.”

  “Three Bottled Embers, if you would,” Cephora said, tossing a few coins onto the bar. The bartender swept a hand over them and they disappeared somewhere Will couldn’t see.

  “Now that I can do. Have a seat, boys, it’ll be by soon.”

  Cephora guided them to a table in the back corner of the room opposite the entrance. She sat with her back to the wall as Mad slid into a seat that gave him full view of the room. Will’s own seat, he discovered, was fortunately placed to face almost directly toward the middle of the dance floor where the raven-haired girl continued to move in time with the hypnotic music. Distracted as he was watching her, it took him a moment to realize that Cephora had spoken.

  “Sorry,” Will said, snapping his attention back to the table. “What was that?”

  “I asked if you need us to move elsewhere,” she replied, raising an eyebrow. “Somewhere you won’t be so taken by other interests?”

  Mad snickered and Will shook his head quickly. “No, I’m here. I’m fine.”

  “Good,” said Madigan. “Alright, Cephora. One drink, you said. Well, here we are.”

  “Straight to business, then? Fair enough.” Cephora shook her head. “Tell me, then, how do you plan on retaining me for this venture?”

  “Excuse me?” Madigan snapped. Will was just as caught off guard as his brother. Retain her? What the hell did she mean by that? She had travelled there to help them, not the other way around.

  “I don’t believe I misspoke,” Cephora said. “What? Did you think my arrival was enough to ensure my aid?” She barked a laugh.

  “This damn place…” Mad muttered.

  “I came, as requested, but so far I have not yet—ah! Thank you, Clarice!” The bartender arrived bearing three glasses of a liquid that was dark as smoke yet held a wavering orange center that seemed to be continuously flickering, like the flame of a candle. Cephora smiled and flipped a coin to her which she caught with a wink before turning and departing. “As I was saying, I came at a request for help and now I need to know why you think it is worthwhile for me.”

  “Why it’s worthwhile to you?” Mad said flatly. “Perhaps you should tell us why we need you, then we’ll decide if you’re needed.”

  Cephora chuckled. “I’m not trying to start a fight here, Madigan. The Crow said you needed me and that is reason enough for you to believe it. He told me your destination and for that alone I need to know what I’m getting myself into.”

  “Our destination?” Will asked. “He knows where to find the blood beast?”

  “He knows a path.” Cephora sipped her drink.

  “So, what then?” Madigan said. “You’re supposed to just waltz us over to it?”

  Cephora smiled at Madigan from behind her glowing drink. “Something like that.”

  Will stared at her. Her position was backwards, her logic spinning and spinning just like the girl on the dance floor. He shook his head and focused on the beverage. He tasted it and was stunned, almost the same as he had been when he first tasted the Fita’Verxae or the Atlantean wine. Is everything in this place filled with such complexities? He sipped again as Madigan and Cephora bantered back and forth, his brother obviously growing more hot tempered by the minute.

  Will tried his best to keep up, but the first few sips of the drink sent his head spinning pleasantly and he found himself watching the dancing girl again. Since their arrival she had not stopped dancing for a moment, her body lithe and controlled, each motion fluid with the music. The conversation at his table seemed to fade into the background as he watched her glide, arms in the air, the strange electric music drawing him in. The entire tavern faded away until it was only the girl, Will, the music, and the fiery drink in his hand.

  Will was entranced. Her skin was pale. Her hair was black and short and untamed. Even from where he sat, when she raised her arms into the air, he could see intricate tattoos winding along her hands and forearms. The world disappeared when she moved, and Will found himself suddenly moved by the rhythm in the room, as if it was baring his soul to the world. He knew then that an introduction was needed, never imagining that anything else would ever come of it.

  As he stood, Madigan reached out and stopped him. “Will, what are you doing?”

  Will snapped back to reality, the music again just background noise. “What? Oh. I was just going to see if I could find some water.”

  As if she had heard the words before they left his mouth, Clarice appeared carrying a trio of glasses filled to the brim with water. She placed them on the table without spilling a drop, smiled that knowing smile at Cephora again, and departed.

  “Take a seat, Will,” Cephora said. “We’re not done here, yet. Perhaps you can lend more insight here than your brother who isn’t exactly being forthcoming.”

  “Oh, and you are?” Mad glared at the woman.

  “Justice…” Will said, the words slipping from him as he watched the pixie-like girl twirling to the music.

  “What’s that?” Cephora asked.

  He turned his focus back to her. “Justice, that’s what you believe in.”

  Madigan stared at his brother as Cephora raised an eyebrow. “Is it, now?”

  He nodded. “Those men, back in our room, they were criminals, sentenced to death, right? And yet, when you spoke of them, you saw their attempts at atonement as something admirable, something that was balancing their own scales.”

  Cephora cocked her head. “I suppose so.”

  “If you believe in justice, then you’ll come with us. If even a few of the stories we’ve heard of Valmont are true, then his scales were far from balanced and this world suffered for it. Even with his death, the effects of his terror have lingered and grown. We need to balance the scales back in our favor.”

  She smiled. “A pretty idea. But are you after justice, Will? Or is it only vengeance you seek?”

  The image of his dying grandfather appeared before Will’s eyes, the smokiness of the drink reminiscent of the smoke in the air from his burning home as Senraks destroyed everything he’d ever known. “It’s both.”

  Cephora nodded appreciatively. “Honesty is good. Vengeance for what, then?”

  “One of Valmont’s assassins, a blood beast, murdered our grandfather,” Madigan said, his voice raw and jagged. “He destroyed our home.”

  Cephora closed her eyes. “Jervin Thorne is dead?”

  Will nodded.

  Cephora drained her cup and signaled Clarice to bring more. “The Crow failed to mention that.”

  “You knew him?” Mad asked.

  “Everyone knew of Jervin Thorne.”

  There was a moment of silence as Madigan and Will both finished their drinks and Clarice brought another round. As she left, Cephora raised her glass. “To the Master of Blades.”

  The three drank and set their cups down. It was another moment before Cephora spoke again. “This blood beast, how did you know what it was?”

  “We didn’t,” Madigan said. “Our grandfather did. He calle
d it Senraks. The Crow offered some clarification.”

  “Senraks.” Cephora closed her eyes and was silent for a moment. Will saw her shake her head slightly, almost involuntarily, before she looked up. “The road we are going will take some time but the journey ought to be safe enough.”

  “So, you’re coming along then?” Will asked.

  Cephora smiled. “I always was. I just wanted to know your intentions.”

  Madigan groaned and threw his hands in the air before taking a deep draught of his drink. “And what are yours, then?” he asked. “Why grace us with your presence?”

  “And what exactly is a Seeker?” Will followed, almost overlapping his brother’s words.

  Cephora smiled. “All in good time.”

  The conversation continued with the pair probing at Cephora and her masterfully avoiding specifics. Eventually, Madigan grew frustrated enough to drop it and Will followed his lead. Cephora excused herself to go get food, leaving Mad and Will alone at the table with their third round of drinks.

  “What are you thinking?” Madigan asked.

  Will shrugged. “Honestly? I have no idea. She hasn’t said much of anything yet. But regardless, she knows this place and we don’t.”

  Mad nodded. “My thoughts exactly. I don’t think we have much of a choice. We need her.”

  Will’s eyes fell to the raven-haired girl again. She had left the dance floor and made her way to a tall table not far from them.

  “Dammit, Will, just go.”

  Will snapped his attention back to his brother. “What?”

  “Go already,” he said, waving his brother away. “You’ve been distracted by her since we got here. Go introduce yourself.”

  “I don’t really think that this is necessarily the best time to be—”

  “Oh, just go already. You only live once.”

  Exhaling deeply, Will stood and turned to where the girl was leaning against the wall, sipping a clear drink with a greenish tint. Will glanced back at his brother who made a shooing motion and, after one last sip of his drink, Will made his way over to her. His heartbeat was loud in his ears as he walked, the intensity of the music growing volumes. The key around his throat started to hum, as if in tune with the music, and he felt his head spinning from the alcohol. As he approached, the bright-eyed girl turned toward him. She set her drink on the table, a sharp intensity in her eyes and a slightly crooked smile on her face.

  “Excuse me, miss?” Will did his best to smile and quiet the nerves in his stomach. “Hello.”

  She laughed an infectious, boisterous laugh and held out her hand.

  “Dance with me.”

  Taking his hand, she led Will to the middle of the dance floor. The key was throbbing now, sending charges through his skin as his head swam from the drinks. The girl’s body pressed close against his own. Somehow, despite being the only two people moving to the music, he wasn’t self-conscious. The room seemed to disappear. His senses dulled as the world became the music, the charges racing through his skin, and the body dancing next to him. As they spun, the night was wild with sensations he couldn’t place.

  Morella, she said. Her name was Morella.

  Will didn’t know how long they held each other, dancing. For the first time, he truly believed it when everyone said that time worked differently in Aeril. Hours passed, perhaps even a lifetime could have, and Will wouldn’t have had the slightest idea, so intoxicated was he by the music and Morella. The key was fire in his chest, scorching, threatening to turn his body to ashes, yet still he was lost in time with her. Her lips grazed his own, a delicate passion lasting only a moment. She winked at him. He closed his eyes, spinning.

  And then she was gone.

  He scanned the room and saw no sign of her. His eyes fell to his brother at the table, still smiling widely and sipping his drink. Will shook his head, blinking hard and forcing himself from the dance floor. He stumbled back to his seat and collapsed, a cool sheen of sweat upon his brow. His throat still burning in that strange way, he reached for his drink and took a long draft, draining the cup.

  “Well, well,” Mad grinned, “look at my little brother go.”

  “I’m exhausted.” Will smiled wearily. “Did you see her leave? Where did she go?”

  “Exhausted?” he said with a laugh. “We need to work on your stamina, kid.”

  Will stared at him, the confusion plain upon his face.

  “Will, you were only gone for five minutes.”

  “What?” Will sat straight up and started glancing around the room, as if seeing it in a completely different light. Cephora was making her way back to them. Morella’s drink still sat on the table where she had been leaning, undisturbed. The bartender was laughing and smiling, serving her patrons. The music had faded slightly but all around him the room seemed exactly as it had been. “Only five minutes?”

  “If that,” Mad said, sipping his drink and side-eyeing his brother. “Why?”

  “It… it felt like longer.”

  He smiled. “Did you get her name, at least?”

  Will nodded and reached for his empty cup. “Morella.”

  Madigan clapped him on the back. “Nicely done.”

  Will smiled and searched the room again but she was gone. Somehow, she had disappeared without either of them seeing which way she had left, without a single word other than her name. Her name, a wink, and a kiss. Will was absolutely delighted.

  The remainder of the evening was spent in small pleasantries with Cephora as they attempted to break the ice and discover what they could about one another. Will had to admit that he was more than a little distracted from his all-too-brief encounter with the mysterious Morella, but he still tried to remain focused on this newcomer.

  Cephora was pleasant enough and had apparently known their grandfather for a brief time, long ago. Of her profession as a Seeker, all they were able to garner was that she was a skilled tracker and, seeing as they were in the process of attempting to track something down, that was good enough.

  As the hours passed and the night threatened to pass to morning, Cephora called to Clarice and, after a brief exchange, secured them rooms for the night. After they made their unsteady way to the upper levels of the Street of Ash and toward their respective doors, Cephora pulled the brothers aside.

  “Listen. The journey we are about to embark on will be taxing, and there is no guarantee what will be at the end of it,” she said, not unkindly. “This is the last time you’ll be in an actual bed for some time. Enjoy it. Appreciate it.”

  Will, drunk and dizzy from the drinks, started to make an offhand remark but Madigan gripped his wrist and stopped him. There was an intensity in Cephora’s eyes that had not been there minutes ago. He and his brother nodded.

  “Whatever you need to say to one another in private, say it before morning. When this door opens and you join me on the road there must be no secrets between us. None. What I do not know about you and what you do not know about this realm may get us all killed.”

  “We understand,” Mad said.

  Cephora nodded and turned. “Get some rest.”

  Madigan and Will entered their room and closed the door behind them before falling onto their respective beds.

  “What have we gotten ourselves into, Will?” Mad said absentmindedly.

  Will smiled from where he lay, reflecting on the evening. “I don’t know, brother of mine. But at least I got a kiss from a beautiful lady along the way!”

  Madigan glanced at Will for a moment before bursting into laughter. As they waited for sleep to take them, they laughed and joked like children again, ignorant of the troubles of growing up, ignorant of how much their lives were about to change.

  20

  Answers Upon the Road

  The road they traveled upon was broad and wide and obviously quite old, an amalgamation of cut stone and sand. Per Cephora’s instructions, all three travelled with the hoods of their cloaks raised. According to her, the Crow had made good on hi
s promise, ensuring that no one knew about the two brothers or could possibly recognize them, but it was still better to stay anonymous. Passing a group of strange zealots near the gate, Will remembered what Madigan had said regarding superstitions around the Shadowborne and drew his hood forward further.

  After a few miles, the abundance of travelers along the road lessened and trees began to appear. They reminded Will of the evergreens from home except they bore the color of autumn, browns and golds and reds. The sky brightened visibly as Undermyre fell farther behind them, the orange glowing and mirroring the flame of a candle. In the distance, snow-tipped mountains soared above the trees, a stark contrast against the strange sky.

  There was little conversation that first day, whatever casual joviality they had managed to gain with Cephora the previous night obviously a fluke. They stuck to the main road as it narrowed and wound through farmland and small thickets of trees. The few passersby that they saw kept mainly to themselves and skirted off to the side when the three cloaked figures passed. One or two glanced their way, their eyes darting to Cephora before quickly hurrying themselves along. The majority of those they passed were in much more traditional clothing for rural life, rough spun and practical. Three people in dark garb, clad in leather armor and carrying visible weapons, was probably an unfamiliar sight.

  The hours rolled by. Despite the comfort of the boots he wore, Will could feel hotspots beginning on his feet and the threat of oncoming blisters. Occasionally he paused and readjusted the lacings or tried to change his gait so his weight fell differently but it didn’t help. Only the distraction of hunger drew his attention from it.

  They ate a brief, unfulfilling lunch of nuts and dried fruit while they walked, not stopping, and the few sips of water Will drank did little to quell the growing rumble in his stomach. But despite the hunger pangs, he had to admit that he was in good spirits. After everything that had happened, he and Madigan were finally in Aeril, finally seeing the world their grandfather had told them about.

  Finally on the trail of the monster that murdered him.