Alchemy of Shadows

by David L Burkhead

  I turned back toward the door only to see a blur of movement and something hit me in the side of the head. Multicolored fireworks exploded in my vision and I rolled sideways, desperately trying to avoid the follow up attack I knew was coming. More of my vials shattered with the tinkling or broken glass the only sound beside the heavy breathing of me and my four opponents.

  My vision cleared quickly and I rolled twice more before coming to a low crouch. A quick glance showed the first two, fast asleep. A new sound started to intrude on my awareness. Screams. Coming from the stadium.

  My remaining opponent was on his feet, crouched slightly with his hands up in a boxer’s stance. He shuffled toward me as I rolled one more time to come up in a low crouch, left hand on the floor for balance, right hand scrambling at my belt seeking any intact vial.

  My fingers closed on a vial as I rose and backpedaled away from the approaching fighter. A quick glance told me what the vial contained. Phlogiston. Did I dare? I looked at the man approaching, his hands flicking in out, punching air in a move clearly meant to intimidate.

  It was working.

  Phlogiston. And this man was between me and Becki. More, he wore no dark glasses. Nor, I thought, had he been ridden by a Shadow. Not the way Chuck had reacted, the way Ata had reacted, when exposed to the Tru-Magnesium light.

  He was human, serving the Shadows of his own free will.

  He was between me and Becki.

  More screams from the stadium. No time to deal with them. The man shuffled forward again, a big grin splitting his face.

  I leaped backward. I brought my hands together near my waist to quickly spin the cap off the vial.

  I drew back my arm. I threw.

  The contents of the vial spilled out as it hurdled across the gap between me and the remaining opponent. Fire, pure and clean. It struck the man igniting his clothes. He screamed, drowning out the screams coming from the stadium.

  I started toward the door, toward Becki but then paused at the screams behind me. There, on the wall. A fire extinguisher. I grabbed, turned, activated, dowsing the flaming man with dry chemical. The phlogiston was expended, leaving only burning cloth. The dry chemical quickly snuffed the flames. The man crawled on his hands and knees, coughing and moaning. I swung the fire extinguisher catching him on the side of the head, knocking him to the ground where he lay unmoving.

  I did not wait to see if he were breathing. I turned to find the door that led to where Becki had set off one of her flares.

  Still holding the fire extinguisher in one hand, I laid a hand on the door latch. My breath came in ragged pants. I paused and licked my lips, tasting copper. I coughed, feeling a sharp spike driving into my right side. Oh, yes. Broken rib. I had no idea what remained of the supplies in my belt.

  I opened the door. It was dark within, a black through which I could see nothing, not after the assaults my eyes had endured in the hall.

  A blur of movement warned me. I ducked. Had I been any taller the swung chair would have beaned me but as it was it clattered into the door frame.

  “A...Adrian?”

  Becki’s voice.

  In the darkness someone, more than one someone, not Becki, mewled.

  I breathed a single agonizing sigh of relief.

  I searched the wall for a moment and found a light switch. Light bathed the room.

  I first noted the two men curled on the floor, the two men who had been manhandling Becki, both moaning softly. In the far corner another man lay, also curled in a ball and mewling. He would have been the one operating the camera. The wall opposite the door leaned outward. A closer look revealed that it was a floor to ceiling window, covered now with metal shutters. I did not see any controls for the shutters. Doubtless they were controlled remotely. I did not know what purpose this room served. It lacked the posh seating of a private box. There was none of the electronics of a place for sportscasters to observe and report their observations and color commentary.

  It was simply a small cubby from which one would have a high vantage point from which to observe the game.

  “Where’s Jeff?” Becki asked.

  #

  It had been less than a minute since I’d left Jeff in the stands. It took far less than that to tell Becki as I passed briefly over the fight in the hall.

  Becki nodded. “I saw the flash through the wall but...I’m sorry, Adrian, but...”

  “Didn’t expect it would be me coming through the door, huh? Oh, ye of little faith.” I ran my hands over my belt, trying to see what I had left. Not much. “We’d better get back, see what’s going on.”

  The screams from the stadium had faded in volume. Somehow, I did not think that was a good sign.

  We left the small room for the hallway. The two I had dosed with the sleeping powder still slumbered and would for some hours. The one I had burned and hit with the fire extinguisher also lay unmoving. I squatted next to him and tried to feel for a pulse.

  “Is he?” Becki looked down at me.

  I stood and dusted my hands. He wasn’t the first person I had killed in a long life. No doubt he would not be the last.

  “Let’s go.”

  Becki headed for the stairs but I stopped her and pointed to one of the doors to the top-level balconies.

  These doors remained sealed, the upper level unused for this game. I fumbled through my belt. Did I have? Yes. I had one vial of phlogiston left. That, two regular flares, and one more Tru-Magnesium were the total of my supplies.

  “Becki, can you go grab that fire extinguisher, just in case?”

  She nodded and trotted off after it. I opened the vial of phlogiston and carefully poured a single drop into the latch mechanism. I recapped the vial.

  The metal of the latch glowed red, then white, the paint covering the door near it blackened and smoldered.

  Becki returned with the extinguisher. I stepped back from the door then lunged forward, ramming into it with my shoulder. The door burst open. Tiny droplets of residual phlogiston dripped from the softened metal of the latch, igniting the carpet. Becki dowsed the flames with the extinguisher.

  The sound of the screams grew louder through the open door. I sprinted through the doorway, Becki close on my heels. In seconds we reached the railing of the balcony and peered below.

  The main lights were dark, leaving the interior of the stadium shrouded in gloom. I could see a number of football players collapsed on the field, others at the sideline.

  A single brilliant circle of light shown below us. Jeff, holding aloft one of the slow-burning magnesium flares.

  Within the gloom darker shadows moved, explaining the screaming. What puzzled me for a moment was the lack of a general movement of the crowd toward the exits.

  “There.” Becki laid a hand on my shoulder and pointed. From where we stood the view of most of the exits were blocked or too dark to see, but one caught a dim reflection of the light from Jeff’s flare, a reflection swallowed up by the shadow looming in front of the exit.

  Trapped. The people were trapped, unable to escape, unable to do anything but wait while the shadows moved among them with their freezing touch.

  I glanced down to where Jeff stood, his flare starting to dim. I could see that he held another next to his face, no doubt ready to pull the igniter with his teeth.

  My hands clenched into fists. I could drop flares but...there were too many, too scattered. I could never get all the Shadows. And the longer I took to figure something out, the more people the Shadows would reach, leaving them in screaming agony. Like Paul, like Widow Smith, like...

  “Adrian?” Becki laid a hand on my arm, breaking into my frantic thoughts. She pointed up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Before I could respond, a voice boomed over the announcement system. “Hello, Johann.”

  At both ends of the field the giant display panels flickered to life. A man, someone I did not recognize, looked out of the screen.

  The massed screams faded, leaving only a fe
w wails of terror or agony, wails I could almost pick out as individual voices. I glanced down and saw that the Shadows had pulled back from the crowd, crouching like distorted giants awaiting the command to pounce.

  “This is all unnecessary,” the voice said. “We simply want you to do a small task for us, then you can go on your way.” The man in the screen made a sweeping gesture.

  “Do you fancy the girl? Her brother? Finish this task for us and take them with you when you go. We have no need for them.”

  “Don’t listen to him, Adrian,” Becki said in my ear.

  I flashed her a faint smile. “Not likely to.”

  “Adrian!” Becki pointed past me.

  I whirled. One of the Shadows was extending upward, stretching like some impossible rubber man, reaching toward us.

  I scrambled for the flares at my belt. My hand closed on one of the long-burning magnesium flares. I pulled, ignited. The Shadow reared back from the globe of light.

  “Now, Johann, there’s no need for that.” The voice from the PA said. “Come. Let us talk.”

  I turned to Becki. “You get Jeff and get him out of here. I’ll...”

  “Press box,” Becki said, raising a hand in the direction of the screen. “He’s in the Press Box. Very top level.”

  I looked up the stairs toward the door we’d entered and nodded. “Get Jeff and both of you get out of here.”

  I turned and ran up the stairs, gritting my teeth at the daggers in my side. At least I was not coughing up blood. The broken rib had not punctured a lung. Yet.

  #

  More stairs. I’d finally reached the level which housed the press box. I bent over, resting hands on bent knees while I gasped for breath. At any moment my heart was going to pop right out of my mouth, I just knew it.

  After a few long seconds I stood.

  “I’m getting too old for this.” I wiped my sleeve across my forehead. Already my eyes burned with sweat.

  Now where, I thought, was the press box? I looked to the left, saw nothing that suggested where the press box might be and turned back to the right. I could manage a bare trot.

  I did not know how long I ran. Pain and exhaustion made it an eternity. Eventually I found a section of darkened hallway, the lights extinguished, not even the emergency lighting illuminated. The only light was that spilling around the corner and the dim glow from an open doorway.

  I paused. I removed one of my two long-burning flares from the belt. Holding the flare, my thumb through the loop of the igniter, I crept forward.

  I had never been so scared in a very, very long life.

  I peered around the door jamb. I saw the man from the screen sitting in a padded chair turned to face the door.

  “Hello, Johann. Or perhaps you prefer Adrian, these days?”

  “I’ve used many names,” I said. “Either one will do.”

  “Please. Have a seat.” He waved at the other chairs in the room.

  I edged into the room, my right hand concealed behind my hip.

  “Oh, Johann, must we continue these games? Keep your pathetic light source if it gives you comfort but you will not use it. You know what will happen below if you do.”

  He smiled. “You see, we’ve learned, Johann. You were so careful. No friends. No lovers. Poor Johann, always alone. No one to care about. No one we could use against him. But we learned, Johann. We learned when you used your precious elixir in an effort to save a stranger. We don’t need to threaten friends. Strangers will do well enough.”

  I brought my hand from behind my hip. He was right. If I did anything here, the shadows down in the stands could cause untold havoc.

  “What do you want?” I sat in the chair nearest the door.

  “I’m sure you know, Johann. We have only one weakness, one thing that prevents us from taking our rightful place in the world.”

  “Light,” I said.

  The man laughed. “Hardly.”

  I stared, puzzled. That had not been the answer I was expecting “What?”

  “Oh, I’ll admit light is a problem, but it is so easy to avoid, especially in the modern world." The man removed his glasses and I saw dark brown where his eyes should be. "Darkened contact lenses. They allow us to assist our companions even in daylight. No, Johann, the problem is that we are few and we increase only slowly. We have recently had to take human servants, servants with no Shtakara companions.”

  “‘Companions’?” I tilted my head. “You mean, ‘masters’, don’t you?”

  “I am not here to quibble words. If you like ‘masters’ we can use ‘masters’.” He shook his head. “I will tell you, we made a mistake when we first approached you. We should have approached openly, offered you anything you wished in order to get your assistance. The ways of another time were even then changing. We have learned.”

  “So...what? You offer me the world at my feet now?”

  The man waved the idea away. “No, that chance is past. What has been done cannot be undone.”

  I still had no plan for what I was going to do, not even an idea, so I continued the conversation in an effort to buy time, hoping I could think of something.

  “So why tell me this now?”

  “Do you know how we bind our human servants to us, those without Shtakara companions?”

  I opened my mouth to speak but the man held up a hand.

  “Masters. We’ll use your word. Masters. Do you know how we bind masterless humans?”

  I shrugged.

  “Promises, Johann. Promises. You remember your youth? Rules used strength, force, threats to impose their will. You did what the lord commanded because otherwise you would die in great agony. But today? Ah, today.”

  “Today?” I asked, still trying to buy time.

  “Today, Johann, you offer promises. ‘Do what we wish,’ we say, ‘and we will grant you all that your heart desires.’” The man leaned forward. “And do you know the greatest secret? The one we learned from human politicians?”

  I shrugged again.

  “You don’t have to keep the promises. Find someone to blame. Make new promises. And they will continue to fawn at your feet.”

  “Not everyone,” I said.

  “No,” the man agreed. “Not everyone. But enough. And for the others? Well, the fear of dying in great agony can still be quite effective.”

  “So where do we go from here?” I asked.

  “Why, it’s simplicity itself. You agree to use your alchemy to help us speed our reproduction, so we can solve our problems of numbers. In return you and your...pets … can go free and we will no longer bother you. After all, why should we when we have all we want?”

  “Just like that?”

  “Do you want more? Wealth? Done. Power? Once we have taken our rightful place, we can give that to you. You have time to wait, or course. Anything you wish can me yours. You only have to agree to help us.”

  I stared at the man in dumbfounded shock. He was offering promises after telling me that they did not have to keep promises?

  A hint of movement caught my attention. My eyes flicked to the right, then back to the man in front of me. I hoped he did not note the brief distraction on my part but I had seen a deeper shadow in the gloom. Not a shadow, but a Shadow, waiting for my agreement.

  They always sought to get me to agree and I knew. I knew that that Shadow awaited. Once I were to agree, whether that agreement were forced, tricked, or freely given, I would be theirs. The Shadow could take me and I would be yet another of those ridden, of those controlled, by the Shadows.

  #

  I sat staring at the Shadow-ridden man in front of me for long seconds.

  “I think,” I said.

  “Yes?” He leaned forward eagerly.

  A grinding sound rumbled through the building from above.

  I looked upward and grinned.

  “I think I’ve heard enough.” I threw my left arm in front of my eyes and popped the igniter on the flare. Brilliant light spilled out.

>   The man screamed. I heard a second scream, echoing more in my head than my ears. I dropped the flare then pivoted out of the seat, aiming for the doorway by memory, eyes still covered against the lesser light of the ordinary magnesium flare. I ran into the wall but I could feel that the door was just to my left. I went through it and turned, flattening my back against the wall outside the press box.

  Keeping my eyes covered, I grabbed the last of my Tru-Magnesium flares and lobbed it back into the room, jerking the igniter as it left my hand.

  With the wall between me and the flare, the flash of the Tru-Magnesium did not blind so. The ridden man’s scream redoubled for an instant, then dropped to a whimper. Ignoring him, I ran for the stairs, my first leap drove such pain into my side that I stopped, gasping. I continued more circumspectly, my body almost seizing with each movement.

  It had been a long time since I had endured such continued, excruciating pain. Always I’d had the elixir to heal my injuries. Now, I had just myself.

  At the foot of the stairs I stopped to listen. There was noise, shouting, but not the blood-curdling screams of the Shadow attacks.

  Eventually, I reached the door where Becki and I had broken into the upper balconies. Decision. Stop here to see or go on. I looked through the door.

  Light. Gorgeous daylight. I looked up and saw the roof of the stadium slowly rolling open, letting in the late afternoon sun. Below, the Shadows were far more interested in evading the growing pool of daylight than in attacking the people who were now streaming out of the exits.

  We’d won.

  #

  I staggered down the stairs, leaning heavily on the left side rail. At the floor below I merged into the crowd not quite stampeding for the exits. I hugged the wall until we reached an exterior door. Open. Out. And I could breathe again. Flashing blue and red lights from emergency vehicles painted the scene in a kaleidoscope of color.

  As soon as I got far enough away from the stadium for the crowd to start to disperse, I sank to the ground where I sat, elbows on knees and head in my hands. Exhaustion claimed me as the last of adrenaline drained away.

  “You! Freeze.”

  I looked up. About twenty feet away a uniformed police officer stood, backlit by the setting sun, legs wide, pointing a gun at me. I started to raise my hands.