Shadowborne

by Matthew Callahan

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Will said, shrugging his brother’s hand away.

  “You know what?” Madigan said, looking remarkably similar to their grandfather as he looked at Will with disappointment. “There’s no need to discuss the Relics with Cephora. I’m saying no. Maybe when you pull your head out of your ass we can talk about it again. But right now? You’re just being petulant.”

  Will turned and stormed away. He had finally begun to regain some sense of self-confidence and Mad was doing everything in his power to knock him back down. Boiling with frustration, he climbed into bed filled with anger and doubt. His thoughts raced between Morella and Madigan, between meeting Valmont’s assassin with an army at their backs or with an ace up their sleeves.

  An ace in the hole, that’s what Madigan said he needed me to be.

  The Relics of Antiquity would be his.

  24

  Shadowborne

  Five days later the group approached the edge of a sprawling desert. The terrain had grown steadily rockier as they traveled and the trees became sparse and barren. At the sight of the expanse of rock and sand, Madigan took a deep drink from his canteen and shook his head. “I’m guessing our path doesn’t skirt along the edges of this, does it?” he said.

  Cephora gave a quick “Hmph,” then led them to a large, dying tree that offered what little shade was possible. “We’ll camp here.”

  “So early?” Will asked. He and Morella had been walking a bit behind, casually brushing fingers as they talked in hushed tones. Mad was surprised that Will was even aware they were stopping; he’d missed most everything else over the past few weeks.

  “Set up camp,” Cephora said. Her tone brooked no argument. Madigan had watched as the guide had grown increasingly reclusive, even to him, as they traveled. From what he had been able to figure from the maps, it looked as though they were nearing their destination. And then what? She said she would act as our guide. Hopefully he had managed to convince her to act as more than that.

  “We shall get a few extra hours of rest. We go no farther today,” Cephora said, dropping to a crouch and moving a few rocks before seating herself. “The next few days will be hard enough.”

  Morella chewed her lip. She glanced at Cephora before looking out at the wasteland before them. “We’re going into the Daurhi Wastes?”

  Cephora nodded. “We are. Our goal lies in the heart of the sands.”

  Madigan dropped his pack near Cephora. We are close, then. It was a strange notion, to be so close to the blood beast’s lair and yet to feel so unprepared. Assuming it actually made its way back there. He looked at his companions. They were ragged. They had been traveling hard for weeks and were on scarce rations. As he stared out at the Daurhi Wastes, he shook his head. From the look of things, it was only going to get harder. And the group is fracturing.

  He watched as Morella and Will set their bedrolls down near to one another. Morella seemed fine enough, all things considered. She was knowledgeable about many things and that was valuable, although she did a poor job of keeping her thoughts to herself. Madigan tried not to fault her for it, though. From what he had seen in Undermyre and the Nordoth, social skills didn’t seem to be a strength for the population of Aeril. Or, at least not social skills as he knew them.

  No, Morella rubbed him the wrong way because of Will. Perhaps it wasn’t her fault, perhaps it was just the nature of his brother, but Madigan saw less and less of the Will he knew and more of someone…consumed. He needed Will right now, more than he knew how to say. Cephora had been an amazing aid but Will would understand. The one time he’d tried to talk to him, he hadn’t even been able to tell his brother what he needed to say. How was he supposed to—

  “Will there be any place to resupply once we get to this destination of yours?” Will’s question interrupted Mad’s thoughts. He focused back on the task at hand and saw that Will was examining a chart and measuring his supplies against it. “The map says there’s a spring not far from here but shows nothing out there.” He gestured toward the bitter expanse of desert.

  “I can’t say,” Cephora replied. “It has been more years than I care to admit since I last ventured into the Wastes.”

  “Well then, we had better drink up while we have the chance,” Morella said. She sounded somehow both perky and sarcastic at the same time. It grated at Madigan. “Hey, Will. Do you want to head down and fill up some canteens with me?”

  “Cephora,” Will said, clearly biting down his frustration. “Please, where exactly are we going?”

  “Shale.” Her eyes were hard as she looked at the sands. “The Shale Prison.”

  “A prison?” Will said, confusion in his voice. “Why are we going to a prison?”

  To Madigan’s surprise, it was Morella who answered.

  “Before the rumors of his death, Valmont was housed in the Shale,” she said quietly. “Gods, this is a suicide mission.”

  Will was incredulous. “The great Dorian Valmont was imprisoned in the middle of a desert? I find that hard to believe.”

  “I’m inclined to agree,” Madigan said. “Was it his prison? Did he use it as a base of operations?”

  Cephora and Morella both nodded. “That is what my sources have said,” Cephora said.

  So, they were going to an abandoned prison in pursuit of a monster. Madigan flexed his palms; he didn’t care for the situation. “And you believe that Senraks would have returned there, after…” he trailed off.

  Cephora shook her head. “I do not know. It would make sense for the assassin to return to check in, if Valmont did use it. And given that the creature does not know that Valmont is dead, it may be waiting for his return.”

  “Maybe we’ll catch it sleeping,” Will said with a smirk. “Then we can finish the job quickly”—he looked at Madigan very pointedly—“like a dagger in the dark.”

  “I do not know,” Cephora said again. “The Crow charged me with getting you two to the prison and ensuring that no one else knew our destination.” She glanced sidelong at Morella. “The information he gave me did not go beyond that.”

  “Lovely,” Will said. “So, this place is a former haunt of his, right? Abandoned now? Or is there is a very real possibility that we may not receive a particularly warm greeting at this prison? Is that it?”

  Again, it was Morella who replied. “The Shale has never been abandoned and our reception certainly won’t be warm. The warden there, the guards, they kill anyone who isn’t one of them. They’re an elite force, a mercenary army in their own right. Valmont didn’t control them, he hired them.” She shook her head as her eyes fell back to the Wastes. “It doesn’t matter who is in control of it, they will kill us the moment they see us.”

  As if the whole thing was scripted perfectly, Madigan thought, a hint of nervousness pinching at his back.

  “Which is why they won’t see us,” Cephora said. “I am here to get you close. Someone else will get you inside.”

  Madigan saw Will tense and felt ashamed for a moment. I’m sorry, kid. Dusk fell rapidly over the camp yet the sun did not move in the sky. The air adopted the vaporous, wavering quality that rises from hot stone in the midst of a summer’s morning. The haze cooled rapidly as a dusky shadow covered the area. Will looked petrified and he spun in a circle. Then, his eyes fell to his brother.

  Madigan’s own eyes were clouded and distant, his features grim. He had tucked his arms tight against his ribs but his fingers were splayed forward. The darkness poured from his hands. He saw the shock and confusion on his little brother’s face. I tried to tell you.

  “Shadowborne…” Morella’s voice was quiet, filled with what Madigan could only assume to be fear. But at the same time she looked…angry? Beneath that glare he began to falter.

  “Maintain focus, Madigan.” Cephora was nodding in approval. The air swirled around them as Madigan stepped forward. “Be aware of your surroundings. Make sure we are all concealed as you move. Yes, very good. Be vigila
nt. Don’t overextend.”

  Don’t overextend. He saw the color drain from his brother as their grandfather’s warning to Will rang in Madigan’s ears. Yes, Will, we are the same.

  The soothing darkness receded and the warmth of the afternoon flooded the campsite once more. Madigan felt exhaustion threaten to consume him but Cephora walked over and placed her hands on his shoulders, directing him to a place of calm. Morella looked on warily, but Will met his brother’s eyes. In that look was one of the most pained, frustrated expressions Madigan had ever seen.

  “Well done.” Cephora smiled. “Your hard work has yielded impressive results in so short a time.”

  “Thank you, Cephora,” Madigan said as he reached for his canteen again. “Were it not for you, well, I never could have gotten this far.”

  “What the hell was that?” Will’s words were harsh as they bit through the still air.

  “Will,” Cephora said, shaking her head. “There is no need for pretense. The Crow told me of the day he met you both in chains, that his guards were overwhelmed by a Shadowborne. Madigan told me everything else.”

  Will stared aghast. “And when you told us that Shadow magic was dead?”

  “A ruse.”

  “Will,” Mad said as he saw the emotion raging across his brother’s face. Don’t give yourself away, kid. “It’s okay. Cephora figured the rest out on her own.”

  Will stared at him and Madigan met his stony look. Finally, it was Will who looked away, tears brimming in his eyes. Mad knew that he must be suddenly questioning himself, suddenly doubtful of his own gifts. It’s not like that, Will, not at all. When his brother spoke, his voice was choked with strain. “How did she figure it out?”

  Madigan breathed a sigh of relief. Good, he’ll play along.

  “You’re a Shadowborne.” Morella’s voice was flat. When Madigan turned to look at her, her darkened expression had gone completely. In its place was a quick succession of emotions, from wary to thrilled. Finally, a wide grin broke across her face. “This is amazing! I should have guessed it. But this is amazing. They’ll never see us coming, both figuratively and literally!” She laughed her loud, rowdy laugh. Thinking back to the moment before when her face had seemed so strangely furious, Madigan had felt uncomfortable. Watching her now, however, he dismissed it. I must have just imagined it.

  “Well, at least it’s out in the open now,” Will said, recovering some of his composure. He caught Mad’s eye again and gave him a pointed look. “No need for secrets.”

  That stung. Madigan furrowed his brow but it was Cephora who spoke up. “Exactly,” she said. “And while I know we all agreed to absolute honesty at the beginning of this venture, I understand why you kept this one from me as long as you were able to. Shadowborne are not as well received as they once were.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Will muttered under his breath.

  “The risk of exposure is worth the training,” Madigan said. “With the lessons I’ve had from Cephora, it’ll be far easier to train without her, as needed. As it currently stands, we’ve got an ace in the hole.”

  He saw it click on Will’s face, the thinly veiled message behind his words instantly recognized. A flurry of emotions crossed his face but, nevertheless, Will couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

  “Right, our secret weapon,” Will said. “So, now that it’s out in the open, let’s get back to the matter at hand. What is this Shale Prison? How far out is it?”

  “Depending on the conditions, roughly five days into the desert,” Cephora answered. “The prison itself is a different matter entirely. It is known to have a penchant for”—she paused a moment—“shifting.”

  Morella chuckled. “That’s putting it lightly,” she said. “And you think you can locate it, is that it?”

  “Yes,” Cephora said plainly before turning her focus to Mad and Will. “It phases somewhere on the edges of this plane of existence, similar to the Ways but less refined.”

  “So, your skills as a Seeker will help us find this place then?” Will asked.

  “More or less,” Madigan replied. Will glanced at him sidelong and he went on. “Cephora is able to tune in to a frequency that the prison emits. As such, she can track its location easier and lock onto it.”

  Will seemed to be fuming even more than he was a moment ago. “Oh really? You knew this?”

  “Some of us haven’t had our head in the sand with certain distractions.” Madigan’s rebuke was cold. He knew it wouldn’t do anything but escalate the situation, but Will’s temper was getting out of hand. And there I was thinking I was the hotheaded one.

  “Alright, I think that is quite enough,” Morella cut in before Will could fire off a retort. Her tone was sharp but earnest. Again, though, her eyes looked dark, almost cruel. She gave Madigan a calculated smile. “Will, your brother is right. There is no harm in admitting it.”

  Mad stared, wide-eyed, as his brother seemed to deflate with Morella’s words. Another surprise from that one. What’s her game? What’s she up to?

  Morella then turned her focus toward Madigan and Cephora. “But that doesn’t excuse either of you from not making more effort to bring him back on course. I’ll own my part in this just so long as you both do as well.”

  There was a moment of silence as they eyed one another, each mouth set in a line and each jaw clamped tight. Finally, Madigan nodded, pushing aside his reservations. “She’s right. I’m sorry, Will. There’s been too much change lately and, while we’ve each handled it differently, I haven’t been straightforward with you.”

  Will’s face raced between surprise to frustration before, finally, settling to a passive calm. His shoulders dropped and when he spoke, his voice reminded Madigan of easy mornings lounging by the fireplace at home, swapping stories. “Yeah, well. I’m sorry too, about being distracted and all that. Like you said, there’ve been lots of changes.”

  Morella glanced at Cephora. Their guide held up her hands and shook her head. “I refuse to get involved in family politics.” Both Mad and Will chuckled. Morella started to protest but looked at the brothers and cut it off, shrugging. Cephora went on. “What Madigan said is correct. I will get us there. Once we are there, however, the game changes completely. There is no telling what is inside. No maps have ever been made, no escapes or prison breaks. No information has ever come from within. What enters the Shale Prison never emerges again.”

  “Well, doesn’t that just sound like a walk in the park?” Will said. “Anything else for us to go on? Any other tidbits of vital information?”

  “Only a reminder of my position here,” Cephora said.

  What does she mean by that? Madigan wondered. He looked at Will and raised an eyebrow.

  “Meaning…?” Will said.

  “Meaning that I am a guide,” she said simply. “As such, it will only be the three of you going in.”

  They all looked at her in shock.

  “What?” Madigan asked. She can’t be serious.

  “My mission”—Cephora gave him a pointed look—“is to get you into the prison and to ensure that, if you are successful, you manage to get out of it.”

  “Which will be a hell of a lot easier if you’re in there with us!” Madigan burst out. Morella and Will voiced their protestations as well. Cephora said nothing, merely waiting for the clamor to die down before speaking once more.

  “For one hundred lifetimes, I’ve walked these lands. In the entirety of that time, the Shale has never been breached.” Her voice was hard, stern. It sounded to Madigan like one of his grandfather’s lectures after he or Will had done something to disappoint him. “Once it is found, there is no guarantee that it will remain where it stands. From the inside, I would have no power. Only from the outside can I make your escape possible.”

  “Just the three of us against Senraks? In the depths of a realm-phasing prison? And you think our best bet for survival is for you to sit this one out?” Madigan blurted out. What the hell is this? Why is she abandoning us?
“Not to mention the army of mercenaries. Gods, did the Crow put you up to this? There are far easier ways to kill someone!”

  “Mad, don’t,” Will broke in. “It’s pointless.”

  Mad glanced over and saw that although Will looked none too pleased with Cephora’s decision, he seemed to be accepting it. Why? He turned to Cephora and saw the grim expression on her face. Her stance would not change, that was clear, but why hadn’t she told them sooner? It wouldn’t have changed anything, but they would have had more time to at least process it. Fine. We’ll just have to do it on our own.

  “If she says that she can support us only from outside then we have to believe her.” Morella, who had remained silent, finally spoke up. She didn’t bother to hide the mirth in her voice.

  The veins in Madigan’s neck were bulging as he strained against himself. Finally, he relaxed and attempted to regain his composure. The odds weren’t in their favor, but then again, they never had been. Perhaps with his own newfound power coupled with Will’s, though, perhaps they weren’t as bad as they could have been. “Of course. My apologies, Cephora.”

  “None needed,” the Seeker said, ending the discussion.

  They all set about making camp, the atmosphere palpably tense. Madigan tried to catch his brother’s eye, tried to glean some information from Will as to his thoughts, but Will kept his head down. As Will laid out his blanket, Morella brushed against him in a manner that could hardly have been accidental. Madigan barely saw her crooked smile and quick wink before she wandered off in the direction of the spring. With a grin, Will hurriedly set the last of his supplies on the ground and made to follow her.

  “Not to interrupt, Will, but can we have a quick chat?” Madigan asked as he placed a hand on Will’s arm, stopping him. A momentary battle played across his brother’s face as Morella retreated into the distance. Will nodded with reluctance and followed Madigan in the opposite direction. After they had gone out of earshot of the camp, he turned to Will, standing tall and sure, and spoke.