Shadowborne

by Matthew Callahan

  Two weeks after Morella joined the party, any remaining walls of secrecy between her and Will started to crumble in earnest. The landscape had been leveling out and losing its green in lieu of craggy rocks and red clay. They had made their camp for the night under a barren tree, and while Madigan and Cephora talked between themselves by the campfire, Morella and Will walked together, deep in conversation.

  The power of his blades had been exhausted after healing her wound, but he had spent the weeks since gradually replenishing their power with whatever game they managed to take. Will had been using small amounts of the power to restore himself after a day’s long journey and found his need for sleep greatly lessened. Morella operated on very little rest herself and so their nightly walks had become a pleasant regularity. On this particular night, they found an embankment of rock with an uprooted tree at its base to sit upon. Will gazed at the unfamiliar stars and they lapsed into an easy silence.

  Morella’s fingers interlocked with Will’s and he broke his gaze from the stars to meet her own. Later, he couldn’t remember who kissed who first. He couldn’t remember moving to the hard ground at the base of the embankment. But he did remember that there was nothing gentle in the act that followed, nothing sweet. There was only a sense of urgency and, strangely, competition. Her skin against his was as electrifying as the key at his chest, and that was active with an intensity he had never imagined. The electricity met the blood coursing through his body and Will’s entire being became fire. Distantly, he heard her scream as her fingers tore into his back.

  The darkness became still once more. They watched nighttime clouds move in to cover the stars. Morella’s sudden laugh broke the quiet.

  “Something amusing?” Will quipped, feeling all too pleased with himself.

  “Not at all.” She smiled and nuzzled in closer to him. “Just something that was very needed.”

  “You’ll hear no disagreement from me on that point.”

  She rolled over to look at him and rested her head in the crook of her elbow. She had a look on her face that was new to Will, one he couldn’t read. “Where did you come from, William Davis? Why is this so easy? Why do you seem so familiar?”

  “Maybe you’ve just been dreaming about finding someone like me your whole life?” Will grinned. She laughed and nuzzled her head back onto his shoulder.

  “Oh, of course, that’s it,” she said. Will could hear a warmth in her voice, the careful playfulness with which she spoke. “I’m serious, though. There is something inexplicable about this, about you. Who are you?”

  The warmth of her filled him with pride and confidence and fearlessness. With barely a passing thought, he shrugged aside Cephora’s instruction. “You know that Mad and I come from Cascania. What you don’t know is that our grandfather was Jervin Davis. Or rather, you may have heard of him as Jervin Thorne.”

  To his surprise, she smirked and nodded. “I’d assumed as much.” She must have sensed his shock and laughed. “Come now, Will. I’m a historian. Everyone knows who Jervin Thorne is. And between you and your brother, well, it wasn’t hard to figure out that while you’re not exactly native here, you have a strong familiarity with our world. The general assumption amongst historians was that Thorne fled to Cascania. I just put two and two together.”

  Will chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “That obvious is it? Fair enough. What else, then?”

  “What are you doing here?” she said as she traced the edge of his face with her short, chewed fingernails.

  He grinned at her. “Aside from the obvious…?”

  She laughed again. “Oh, it’s rather apparent what you were doing here. I want to know you. What makes you tick. Your secrets. I want to know what you’re doing here.”

  Will paused before answering, considering how best to respond. “My grandfather is dead. Mad and I came here to finish what he started.”

  She was quiet a moment. “And that is?”

  Will threw all caution to the wind. “Dorian Valmont.” There was a steel in his voice that he didn’t recognize. “We’re here to—”

  She laughed again, interrupting him. “You’re hunting Valmont?” Will thought he saw a flash of darkness pass over her face, but it was gone before he registered it fully. He began to shake his head to clarify, but Morella didn’t notice and instead pressed herself closer to him and kept speaking. “I’m lucky I found you.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I know he’s dead. I’m looking for—”

  “Dead? Hardly.”

  Will clamped his mouth shut. His mind raced. Hardly? He plunged to his death, heart pierced by a blade. There were witnesses. But Morella had studied and learned so much; did she know something no one else did?

  “You’re far from the only ones who want to find Valmont.” Her voice had an edge to it and she wasn’t leaning into him as much as a moment before. “Perhaps that is why our paths have crossed.”

  “Fate again?” he said, trying to reignite her warmth. It didn’t seem like the right time to correct her assumption about his purpose, especially if she had information no one else did.

  “Or just luck,” she said, snuggling close once more.

  Taking a risk, Will laughed. “So,” he said, “the historian who knows everything about every blade of grass is after Dorian Valmont, is that it?”

  The edge in Morella’s words returned, only this time it was far sharper. “You’re not the only one whose family has suffered because of his actions.” She sat up and looked at the sky. Will followed suit and she took his hand before turning to him. She looked earnest, almost pleading. “That is why I’m searching for the Relics.”

  Will shifted position and scooted back to lean against the downed trunk. “These Relics you keep mentioning, what are they?”

  “Ancient artifacts, I told you that before.”

  “Yes, that much I remember.” Will sighed. “I mean what do they do? What exactly are they?”

  “They’re all different in their own ways,” she said hesitantly. “The exact number is unknown, but sources generally agree that there were thirteen. Each of them imbued the wielder with certain gifts, gifts that enhanced them and raised them above others.”

  “Cephora seems to think they’re rather dangerous.”

  “A stone can be dangerous. It can also lie as the foundation of a palace.”

  Will thought back to his conversations with Cephora regarding a surgeon’s toolkit and he cocked his head at Morella. “So you’re making a palace for this world then, are you?”

  “What I am trying to do is generate a means to creating a more peaceful world,” she continued, the edge once again returning. “A world with justice.”

  Will raised his hands and shook his head. “I get that. I’m just trying to understand how these Relics will do it.”

  “I keep forgetting that you’re Casc,” she muttered and slumped back against his shoulder. “You know the legends of Valmont? The scope of his power? These artifacts can level the playing field. No one else has been able to confront him successfully because no one understood the amount of power that would be needed.”

  Will considered a moment. “If he’s so powerful, how do you know he hasn’t got the Relics already?”

  She snickered and smiled a cruel smile. “Because they’ve been lost for longer than anyone living can remember. Plus, there is the fact that if he had managed to obtain any of them, the world as we know it would be dead.”

  “Fair enough,” Will conceded. “And you think you know how to find them?”

  “I have an idea of where to look. Each of them exuded its own power, its own level of influence. I just need to continue tracing elements of that power and follow the clues.” She reached down and pulled her cloak from where it had been discarded, drawing it close around her body. “Their power comes from both Radiance and Shadow and is augmented by the carrier.”

  “But there are no carriers,” Will said. “You said it yourself. The Relics are lost.”

  H
er hard eyes betrayed the smile she gave. “But I now know that certain elements of the stories are true. Cephora saw to that.” At a questioning look from Will, she continued. “In recorded memory, only a single person in control of a Relic was ever documented. Jero din’Dael. He was the greatest champion of Radiance, their prime Revenant. He was also Valmont’s most bitter rival. It was because of him that the combined forces of Radiance and Shadow were able to overcome Valmont in the first place. He used his Relic, some kind of emerald. He also, as the stories go, was an absolute psychopath.”

  “He sounds lovely,” Will said. “And I assume he was buried with the Relic?”

  She shook her head. “There is no record of anything about him after Valmont’s Sundering of the Ways.”

  “Except for Cephora,” Will said, realization dawning on him.

  Morella smiled. “Except for Cephora. They were allies, albeit strained ones, during the war. They fought alongside one another until the end and the Seekers had kept careful eyes on din’Dael throughout. If anyone knows what happened to the Relic after din’Dael’s death, it would be Cephora.” She tilted her head and kissed Will’s neck softly, sending a pleasant chill through him. “If we can find the Relic, we would be the first in memory. It would help lead us to the others. We could change the world.”

  “Well, I wish you all the luck in the world asking Cephora about it,” Will said, lightly caressing Morella’s arm. “She seems to have grown a bit tightlipped.”

  Morella pursed her lips. “I’ve noticed. I don’t think she enjoys my being here very much. Her or your brother.”

  “Mad’s just jealous,” Will scoffed. Morella didn’t seem terribly reassured by his reply so he moved in closer and wrapped both arms around her. “After all, who could blame him?”

  She gave a hearty laugh that ended in a snort and pressed herself against him. “Oh yes, I am ever the object of everyone’s affections.”

  “Well you’re the object of mine, at least.”

  Their conversation drifted into a gradual silence before they gathered themselves and made their way back to their companions. Will was distracted, but not for the reasons one would normally assume; his thoughts kept drifting back to the Relics. He remembered Senraks’s attack, a mere pawn of Valmont’s, and how soundly they had been driven back by it as it murdered their grandfather. How were they supposed to defeat it? And, if Valmont was truly alive and such a creature paled in comparison to him, what would happen if they had to oppose the man himself? How would they survive?

  The Relics. He knew it in his bones. Then again, they also had Cephora. Could she be enough to balance the scales? Or better yet, give us the advantage? It didn’t seem likely. He watched the Seeker as she moved about the camp, casually avoiding Morella and her belongings. She didn’t strike Will as a person who could take down the most terrible man who had ever lived, far from it. And while the Crow was touted as clever, his loyalties were far from apparent and Cephora was his agent.

  The Relics, then, were paramount to surviving in the long run. If Morella was right, if Valmont lived, then someday they would face him. Without the Relics, we’ll be dead. The Relics were the key to defeating Valmont, and Morella was the key to the Relics. Regardless of Mad and Cephora’s feelings about her, Will knew that they were going to need her.

  And I don’t want her to go. I want to help her. He knew he had complicated the situation, but his grandfather would have supported his overall plan, wouldn’t he? He would have wanted us to help too. Will needed advice, he needed someone else’s insight. He needed to talk to his brother.

  Something twisted in his gut. He didn’t want to talk to Madigan. His brother had been so quiet lately, so secretive, distant ever since Morella joined them. Whatever Will wanted to say, there was no way Madigan would be interested. Mad was cold and reserved. Both he and Cephora had completely omitted Will from any discussion of their plans and there was no part of him that imagined either would be receptive to his suggestion of changing their course. I still have to try. Begrudgingly, he made his way over to Mad.

  “Well, hello there, stranger,” Madigan said, glancing up from the map he was studying as Will approached. “Where’ve you been the past hour?”

  “Morella and I were just off chatting,” Will replied quickly. He wasn’t sure why he felt guilty. If anything, Madigan would cheer and clap him on the back.

  “Of course,” Madigan said. He snickered and looked back down at his map. “Chatting.”

  “Listen, Mad,” Will said, ignoring his brother’s tone. “What’s our plan? We’ve seen how strong the thing we’re going up against is. How are we going to take it down?”

  Madigan put the map aside before he pulled a new one over and began scanning it. “You’ve got an idea, I take it?”

  “I’ve been thinking,” Will said, choosing his words carefully, “that we need to level the playing field. And I think I know how.”

  “Oh?” Madigan didn’t look up when he spoke, tracing a line along the map and then shifting back to the previous one.

  “Morella told me more about the Relics. I think we can use them to our advantage.”

  To Will’s surprise, his brother didn’t contradict him. “Haven’t they been lost for generations?”

  “Yes, but we could find them. That’s why I think we should hold off on finding Senraks until we collect them.”

  Madigan snickered again and put the map aside. “And how long do you think it’ll take to find these ancient artifacts? These powerful items that have been lost to time in a world we don’t know?”

  “I don’t know,” Will said. This wasn’t going at all how he had expected. He glowered. Talking to Mad had been a bad idea. “But it’s better than rushing in bullheaded. You’re strong, Mad, but not that strong.”

  “I have no delusions about my capabilities, Will.”

  “Then we should listen to Morella! She was searching for the Relics before us and she has a plan for finding them. If we help her then that monster can be defeated that much easier!”

  “So, this was her idea?” Madigan shook his head. “Of course it was her idea. Will, she’s here to pursue her own agenda, not ours. She said she wanted companions on her journey and then she joined us. Remember what happened to her last group. Don’t let her distract you from our mission.”

  “She knows more than you give her credit for,” Will said, suddenly defensive. “Going after the Relics makes sense. What if people have been wrong about Valmont? What if he’s still alive?”

  Madigan groaned and finally met his eye. “Gods, Will, she really has you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?”

  Will’s temper flared. “You’re just jealous.”

  “You think that’s what this is about?” Madigan said, frustration and exasperation plain in his voice. “Yes, she’s a very interesting woman. She’s also a distraction who has been doing an excellent job of manipulating you into doing whatever she wants. Don’t you see that?”

  “I just don’t see how you plan on being successful here without help,” Will said. He was doing his best to stay calm but Mad was being infuriating. For no good reason, either.

  “I’m planning on getting help, Will. The plan takes time, not shortcuts. I’m thinking beyond the blood beast. Grandda was right, there is a world here where we could really do some good. That’s exactly what I intend to do.”

  “So, what then? You and Cephora have this all figured out? We’re going to find Senraks and your plan is what, just observation? Take a gander and then go play politics for a bit?”

  Madigan stared at his brother in shock. “What are you going on about? What the hell has come over you? I trust Cephora. Yes, she’s helping us gain intel and wherever she’s leading us, she knows the stakes. But we’re not going to just blindly rush in once we find that monster. We need a larger force. We need time and numbers.”

  “It’d be far easier to do as a dagger in the dark,” Will said, brushing over his brother’s suggestions.
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  “And is that what you propose?”

  “I propose,” Will said through clenched teeth, “that we arm ourselves with anything that could give us the advantage and then end this.”

  “And you think Morella will just give you the Relics if you help her find them? You think she’ll just hand them over and let you do as you please? She’s got her own goddam agenda, Will. She was searching for them before we came along and she’s not about to turn them over to us even if she does find them.”

  “She’s with us! She wants to help. It doesn’t have to be just our responsibility anymore, Mad. We can have someone on our side who wants the same thing we want. Not someone who was hired, someone who came because they believe.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Madigan sighed and shook his head. “We’ll talk it over with Cephora. In the meantime”—he ran his hands through his hair and gave Will a tentative glance—“there’s something important that I really need to talk to you about.”

  “You know exactly how Cephora will react.” Will couldn’t help himself; he saw the momentary crack in his brother’s resolve and pushed. “You saw her when the Relics got brought up before. There’s no way she’ll go for it.”

  “Dammit, then maybe that’s something we should consider then, isn’t it?” Madigan rose to his feet and towered over Will, his calm demeanor completely vanished. “She knows more about them than we do and doesn’t trust them for a reason.”

  “And how do we know we should trust her judgment?” Will said as he glared at his brother.

  “You’re actually going to ask that?” Madigan stared at his brother. “After everything she’s done for us? I’d trust Cephora over Morella any day.”

  “You’re just trying to create a rift between us, aren’t you? It all comes back to your jealousy.”

  “Will, you’re wrong.” Madigan reached out to his brother and laid a hand on his shoulder, imploring him. “I don’t like the effect she has on you. Ever since she came around you’ve been distant. You stopped training with Cephora. You’ve barely spoken to me. The two of you spend every night secluded. You’re shutting us out.”