The Shadow Thief

by K.L. Bauman

Chapter 2

  Two Years Later

  Echo cursed herself for not paying attention to her surroundings while she could still see. With her fingers, she pressed the soft, earth-colored cloth that blindfolded her eyes, causing shocks of colorful designs to disrupt the oppressive blackness. She trembled as she leaned against a spongy trunk of a canopy tree, the tangy scent of the tree’s oblong white fruit teasing her nostrils. Sound flooded her ears as birds and insects sang, buzzed, and chirped noisily around and above her. Her soft green, light-weight shirt stuck to her back where droplets of sweat had formed.

  The voice of the elvish instructor, Dorian, reverberated through Echo’s mind, “Use every sense in your possession to identify and confront an opponent—every sense except sight. If you encounter a shadow dweller, chances are you could be fighting in darkness.” Even though some shadow dwellers took on more solid forms, many were as their name implied--shadows. Echo’s stomach knotted at the thought of confronting a shadow dweller. She hated darkness and the things that lurked in it. How could anyone ever fight a shadow anyway?

  The sixteen-year old strained her ears for any unusual sounds. Other than the incessant bird song, she heard nothing but the fingers of the wind combing through the thick, mushroom-like canopy of leaves and branches overhead.

  The rhythm of Echo’s heart increased as a foul scent insulted her nostrils. And--she caught and held her breath--footsteps! She quickly but silently released her breath, remembering Dorian’s warning, “Never hold your breath in tense situations. You might forget to breathe again and lose consciousness.”

  Tightening her grip around a short, wooden staff, Echo attempted to calm herself and pay attention. The footsteps were barely noticeable, but closer now. Her heart sent electric pulses through her veins and her muscles tensed.

  Echo yelled suddenly and thrust her staff into her opponent. From the sound of the shouting voice, she determined her adversary was male.

  “Sorry!” Echo shouted and then felt a hard jab to her ribs. Gasping, she doubled over, but raised her staff in time to block the next blow. With catlike reflexes, she made three more solid connections with her staff.

  “Sorry! Sorry! Oh, sorry!” she apologized with every hit.

  Echo thought she heard a whisper of a laugh and then--nothing. A tickling sensation rippled down her spine as vulnerability washed over her. She jerked around at the sound of a bird fluttering in the branches. Her heart pounded in her ears, dulling her sense of hearing. The pungent scent was still there, though. Her adversary remained close, and she remained blind. Panic reared in her chest, pounding its sharp hooves against her heart. I can’t do this!

  Suddenly, Echo’s legs flew out from beneath her, and her back slammed into the ground, knocking the wind out of her. Some type of cold, hard weapon pressed against her chest.

  “Too slow! You’re dead, human!” the cocky voice of an elf danced over Echo’s face.

  Before Echo could react, the weight of her adversary suddenly lifted from her body, accompanied by a growl she recognized as her brother’s. Breathing heavily, Echo removed the scarf from her green eyes.

  Brecker was still blind folded, but seemed to hear every movement as he kept his staff pointed directly at the elf that had sparred with Echo; the elf, Thalen, who was also Brecker’s friend, wore the hide of a vonima beast--a hideous, smelly, buffalo-like creature. Echo shuffled against the dirt as she scrambled to a standing position. “Stay back, Echo! I’ll take care of this,” Brecker stated.

  Feeling her cheeks redden, Echo muttered through clenched teeth. “I didn’t need your help.”

  Brecker was completely focused on the elf. With blindfold still intact, he sparred with his adversary for several minutes. In spite of her anger, Echo couldn’t help but admire her brother’s crisp movements. He never missed a beat, and the recently over-confident elf struggled to keep him at bay.

  Before Brecker could finish his assault, Dorian appeared with Echo’s elf friend, Alena, and halted the exercise. Alena looked as if she’d been bruised on the arm by Brecker’s staff. He must’ve sparred with her before coming to Echo’s “rescue”.

  After Dorian halted the exercise, Brecker removed the scarf from his sweating face, ruffling his short, onyx hair and revealing a scowl directed at Echo. “You won’t ever be able to do this if you’re afraid to cause pain, Echo!”

  She cast her gaze to the ground, ashamed and irritated with herself. She’d failed another important test. She couldn’t help it, though. Echo wanted to become a defender to stop others from causing pain. It just felt wrong for her to inflict pain on others.

  As if reading her thoughts, Brecker continued, “If you don’t cause the enemy pain, they’ll be more than happy to dish it out to you. I can’t always protect you.” His tanned face softened as he put his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her. She knew he meant well, but irritation tapped Echo’s shoulder under her brother’s touch. She wished his opinion didn’t affect her so much. “You have some amazing skills when it comes to training. I’ve seen you fight impressively. But if you don’t get over this softness, you’ll never make a great defender.”

  “Observe the trees,” Dorian’s gentle voice interrupted. With his continuous, contagious smile, their elf instructor was always ready with a lesson. He gazed at them with reflective eyes set on a thin, young-looking face with high cheek bones and arched brows; his hair was shorter than most of the male elves, but was still long enough to occasionally fall in his face and to curl from behind his pointed ears and long neck. The smooth color of his hair and sparkling eyes reminded Echo of melted chocolate. His long, lean frame was distinctively elf. No human would ever be as graceful.

  “Something pliable is able to endure much more resistance than something hard and brittle. These trees,” Dorian gestured with his hands and everyone gazed up at the umbrellas of the canopy trees, “have weathered centuries of terrible windstorms and other hardships because their trunks are soft and flexible, and their roots run deep.” He smiled warmly at Echo, causing his thin brows to arch higher on his forehead. “Learn to use pliability to your advantage, and you will be unbreakable.”

  Echo felt her spirits rise, in spite of the disgruntled look on her brother’s face. She would prove to Brecker, and herself, that she could become a great defender.

  Later, as the group strode back into the elf city of Thildin, Echo’s younger sister, Mari, waved cheerily to them from the same stone path Echo and Brecker had raced over earlier that morning. She quickly stopped waving so her right hand could help balance the usual stack of books she carried in the crook of her left arm.

  Echo smiled as Brecker affectionately whispered a teasing, “Here comes the walking library!” Mari walked through the elf city, its sand-stone pillars solid and polished from centuries of weather and articulately formed by the skilled hands of the elf architects; the pillars seemed alive as birds and butterflies fluttered in, out, and around creeping vines that embraced them. Simple but beautiful fountains sparkled cheerily, making music of their own design. The sun shot beams of light through the trees, illuminating the city with a warm glow. Elves of every age smiled and nodded at them as they passed.

  As the group approached, Mari asked, “How was your training session? Were you late? I heard Dad talking to you this morning. Do you think Mom heard?” A mischievous gleam shone in her light brown eyes.

  Their dad had confronted Echo and Brecker in the hall that morning. They’d been sneaking out during insanely early hours to defender-train with the elves. “Another early morning?” he’d said, nearly causing the two teens heart failure. Then he’d chuckled, a sound as refreshing as water rolling over rounded pebbles, and spoke of one of the strange devices from the Other World where he’d been raised, “I wish I had a camera! You should see your expressions!”

  “Look Dad, we just…” Brecker began, but lost his words--something very uncharacteristic of him.

  Or
an shook his salted dark hair and said, “You don’t have to say anything. Just don’t treat me like I’m stupid, okay?” He’d turned to retrace his path to the upper level of their home before he stopped and turned to them again. “You’d better get going. Dorian will be waiting.” He’d pointed a finger at each of them in turn, “Just don’t be late for chores. And, be careful, Brecker,” he’d said firmly, focusing his attention on his only son. “I’m counting on you to look after your sister. I don’t want anyone getting hurt--and I don’t want to have to explain things to your mother just yet.”

  Echo knew her mother, Kiani, didn’t completely trust the elves. Aside from fearing their unusual magical gifts, the human villagers felt the elves hadn’t come to their aid when they’d needed it in the past. Many believed the elves would someday use their knowledge and skills to take over the village where Kiani had been born and raised. Echo disagreed.

  On top of her mistrust of the elves, Kiani wasn’t fond of the dangers of defending. Her father owned the inn at one of the three villages that formed a crescent along the western edge of Thildin Valley. She’d heard countless stories of defenders dying in battle. Sadly, the one defender’s story Kiani could never forget was her brother’s. He’d died fighting a sorcerer.

  Bringing her mind to the present and ignoring Mari’s questions, Echo asked her, “So when are you going to join us? Shae Vale could always use more defenders.”

  Brecker shook his head, half smiling. “You know you’re fighting a losing battle.”

  Echo shrugged and looked expectantly at her sister for an answer. Mari pursed her full lips into a thin line before answering, “Why would I want to waste my time hitting and stabbing things? Discussing things in a civil manner would be much more productive.” She flipped back her long, dark blonde hair as if to emphasize her point.

  “Sorry, Mari, but as much as I would like to agree with you, most beings lack the intelligence to discuss anything in a civilized way. Physical aggression is the only thing they understand,” Brecker commented.

  “Well, that explains why you enjoy physical aggression so much,” Mari stated, giving her brother a wide smile. Echo laughed, admiring her sister’s sharp wit. Brecker looked unhappy.

  The rest of the morning was filled with lessons on elvish writing, music, and history. Their instruction was another of the elves’ show of gratitude--their father had been promised that his offspring would be brought up to know more about the elves than most humans.

  Echo found the history lessons intriguing. Dorian did his best to touch on all the history of Shae Vale, their world. Subjects ranged from the first dragon sightings to the Doon Wars to the fall of the great elf king, Elrohir, and to the rise of the evil sorceress, Degus. She was the main inspiration for Echo and Brecker’s decision to become defenders. Polluting the lands, water supplies, and the minds of the inhabitants of Shae Vale, Degus was powerful and full of darkness. The effects of her work had seeped into the Thildin valley, corrupting the once good people of the tri-villages and causing darkness and mistrust to flourish. She was also blamed for the increased attacks by shadow dwellers; kelpies, hags, doons, water wraiths, and other frightening creatures that lived in physical or spiritual darkness—or both—and preyed on the weaknesses of others.

  Brecker was reading a weathered scroll intently. He raised his head, setting his eyes on Dorian thoughtfully. “History seems to repeat itself a lot,” he said.

  Dorian replied, “History can be similar to the moon cycle or the rising and setting of the sun; what once occurred can very well occur again. There must be a balance of dark times and of light times.”

  “So, all the bad things that have happened will happen again?” Brecker waved at the parchment and shook his head. “The shadow dwellers were defeated but King Elrohir’s cousin Lagos, who was an evil sorcerer, rose up. Then Lagos was defeated, only to be replaced by an even more formidable foe, Degus.”

  Dorian smiled, “You have good insight, Brecker. But you have overlooked the positive. The past also gives hope for the future,” Dorian said.

  “How do you mean?” Echo asked to the furious sound of her sister’s pen capturing every word on parchment.

  “Just as Elrohir’s cousin was defeated in his time, Degus will eventually meet her own demise. And, like the moon cycle, there will be a time of light after the darkness.”

  Brecker asked, “But, if history keeps repeating itself, won’t she just be replaced by some other dark force? Isn’t there some way to stop this mad cycle? Why can’t we stop it if we know it’s going to happen?” His face was set and ready for a debate.

  Dorian was thoughtful for a few seconds before answering, “Those are excellent questions. Let me respond by asking you a few questions of my own. Can you stop the moon, even though you know it will reach a time of darkness?” He looked at each of them in turn and continued, “Can you foretell who will be the next villain? Will you be able to predict when that villain will decide to make his move? There may be a time of peace, a time of light, when Degus is gone. It could be a hundred years before the next villain arises.”

  Dorian’s face sobered as he gazed into Brecker’s eyes. “Who is to say what may drive someone to become evil? Most darkened souls were not always that way. Many were led into the darkness by lies and temptations. Once good folk, for whatever reasons, become entangled with forces beyond their ability to resist. Anyone can become evil as all have darkness within them. Predicting who will choose to become evil is a gift not even our most insightful watchers possess.”

  “Well, I would think weeding out those who steal, murder, and live in the shadows would eliminate several of the greatest candidates,” Brecker commented. “Why not take the filth from the world while taking the next greatest villain out at the same time?”

  “Brecker!” Mari scolded. She looked at her brother as she stated passionately, “Not everyone who steals or murders is evil. Sometimes they’re caught in circumstances beyond their control. Sometimes, they’re just lost and alone. Sometimes they just need someone to care about them, to love them, someone to understand them.”

  Brecker rolled his eyes, “Oh, please! Let me get my violin! I swear, Mari, you’re softer than Echo! You won’t be able to save anyone with books and talking.”

  Echo’s blood burned her veins at her brother’s insensitivity. Before Mari cast her eyes to her paper, Echo could see tears forming. Turning to Brecker, she said quietly, “Not everyone is evil, Brecker. Some people are just stuck in bad situations.”

  Brecker’s laugh insulted her emotions. “Don’t be such an adanian,” he said, using the slur for someone with the mind of an infant.

  “You rhether,” Mari hissed back another insulting elvish name meaning “monster”.

  “Stop!” Dorian stated quietly, but with such powerful firmness, they all jumped. “One thing is certain, a family divided cannot stand as strongly as one united. We will discuss this at another time when you are all willing to do so in a mature manner.”

  He looked out at the sun and then at the teens. His expression resumed its usual brightness. “I have been granted permission by your parents and my elders to accompany you to the village of Ulway. Mari, what is the human name for this village?” Dorian questioned, smiling warmly at Mari.

  Mari looked up, blinked back her tears, and returned Dorian’s smile. “Twilight,” she stated softly, her eyes shining.

  “Right you are! Very good, Mari.” Dorian gave her a wink, causing her cheeks to flame, and then continued, “Perhaps we will dine at your grandfather’s inn, if he’ll have me.”

  Later, they trotted their horses on the road leading toward Ulway in the brightness of the late morning. Echo’s mind raced with a million come-backs she should’ve used against Brecker earlier. But the beauty of the day slowly dissolved such thoughts, and she soon found herself smiling.

  Their steeds were fine horses, but didn’t compare with the ones Echo’s d
ad tended. Echo’s mount, a delicate dappled grey, nickered as the trees around Thildin opened to the valley ahead of them. Echo’s smile widened at the scene as she breathed deeply and stretched; after the closeness of the trees, the openness was welcomed.

  Emerald grass rippled as the breeze tickled the belly of Thildin Valley where the elves’ special herd grazed during the day. The green was interrupted occasionally by contrasting sand-stone formations, their earthen tones glowing golden in the sunlight. Next to them, a sparkling river, Wyrra, or “New Memory”, gurgled cheerfully over rounded stones; dragon flies and pixies zipped playfully over the water and among the delicate silver blossoms of the curatrees—trees that looked as if giant oaks had been shrunk to three feet; the trees’ rare and precious sap could cure almost any injury.

  Ahead in the distance beyond the valley, the buildings of Ulway could be seen; their walls were made from various colored, rounded stones from the river. The river also provided stones for the buildings in the village, Silmah, or “Starlight”, which rested on the southern edge of the valley. And, to the north, the river, Wynia, or “New Life”, provided similar stones for the village, Auri, or “Sunlight”. The two rivers converged at Ulway, making that village a center of commerce and a place of rest for weary travelers--including defenders.

  Several heads lifted and shrill neighs echoed as the elven horses sounded their greetings from the valley. Echo’s heart leapt at the sight of Shimmer. It had been two years since she’d been born, and Echo had made a point of spending as much of that time as possible with her horse. She’d assisted her dad in Shimmer’s training, which was still incomplete. These special horses were never used for mundane riding. In fact, she wasn’t entirely sure what their purpose was.

  Echo felt Shimmer’s excitement as the horse reared, neighed, and cantered up to them, her flaxen mane and tail dancing behind her like milky flames. Her coat shone in the sun like pure gold. Shimmer had grown tall, and her muscular, graceful form helped her move as smoothly as a sun beam across the earth. Her large eyes were bright with excitement and curiosity as she sidled up to them.

  Echo laughed as Shimmer shoved affectionately against her leg with her delicate head. “Watch it! You’ll knock me off!” She stroked Shimmer’s silk-smooth forehead, resisting the urge to leap onto the horse’s back and soar across the ground at lightning speed. She pulled her gaze away from her equine companion and surveyed the rest of the herd. In her opinion, none of them compared to Shimmer.

  Brecker released a sharp whistle, calling the horse he claimed as his. He’d named the colt at its birth the year before Shimmer was born. A fiery creature, both in color and personality, Midnight Sun was Brecker’s joy. He’d named the horse after it’d been born at the very strike of midnight; but under the bright full moon, his coat had shone fiery like the sun. Brecker was very proud of the name, as well as his horse.

  Midnight Sun danced and snorted around Brecker and his nervous mount. Brecker laughed and patted the gracefully hyper-active horse heartily on the neck.

  Mari and Dorian were surveying the entire herd, one horse at a time. Like their mother, Mari seemed to know almost every detail about every horse and whenever Dorian pointed out something new, she quickly scribbled it down for later reference.

  “Why don’t you pick out a special horse, Mari? Brecker and Echo seem to have found a connection,” Dorian asked.

  Mari shook her head. “That’s okay,” she said. “Ole Vayla, here, is more than enough horse for me!” The white horse plodded along as if bored with every aspect of the journey. She was the tamest elf horse Echo had ever seen, which was good, considering Mari was juggling the reins, parchment, and a pen. Her face flushed when she nearly dropped all three and then giggled nervously.

  Dorian observed Mari curiously for a moment, causing her to blush even more. “Interesting,” was all he said before continuing to share his knowledge of the herd with an ever-more delighted Mari. Dorian, of course, rode his mount with no saddle and no bridle, using the slightest movements and commands to steer his horse. Echo longed to have that kind of control.

  As they reluctantly pulled away from the horses, Dorian spoke of a new defender in Shae Vale by the name of Ayden Green. “He comes from the Other World and travels with a former defender, Volos.”

  Echo’s interest was immediately piqued. Their dad had been born and raised in the Other World before his parents brought him to Shae Vale. He’d told them countless amazing stories of his life there, where mostly only humans lived and used strange devices instead of magic, plants, and animals in their every-day lives. “He must be human then, right?” she asked excitedly.

  “It would seem so,” Dorian stated, looking thoughtful. “Although, I believe I met his grandparents years ago, if it is indeed the same family I am thinking of.” His eyes were reflective for a few minutes before he mumbled, “Hmmm,” and then continued talking. “That was the other reason for my wishing to bring you to Ulway. There is a chance that Ayden and Volos will be confronting a dead sorcerer there today.” Dorian’s eyes shone as his face split with a child-like grin.

  Echo remembered from her lessons that a dead sorcerer wasn’t really dead, but had lost his powers. They were often more dangerous than an active sorcerer as their hearts were blackened with bitterness. She shifted nervously, suddenly concerned for her grandfather’s safety. “You think the dead sorcerer is in Ulway?”

  “Yes, I do. But we shall see if my information is accurate. Ayden has already defeated many a foe and taken them to Hosgrow. If I am correct about his being in the village today, then we may get the privilege of watching a well trained defender in action. You could learn much by observing him.”

  Brecker grunted. “What’s so amazing about him taking all those dark souls to Hosgrow? That place isn’t even a real prison. Most of the time, half of those taken there are released shortly after they’re admitted.”

  Dorian remained serene under Brecker’s scrutiny. “You speak the truth. However, they are only released after they have overcome their fears and pain, which caused their ill actions in the first place.”

  Brecker shook his head, unconvinced. “How do they know they’re reformed? What if they’re just faking it?”

  “Do not close your mind to the hope of true reform, Brecker. It does happen,” Dorian said.

  Before Brecker could begin another debate, Echo asked, “So what makes you think this defender will be in Ulway today?”

  Dorian smiled slyly at her. “I have ways,” he said in a purposefully mysterious tone.

  At the thought of seeing another defender in action--especially a human defender from the Other World--Echo’s body trembled with excitement. Maybe by watching this human defender, she would find the courage she needed to be successful, too.

  Her excitement was suddenly interrupted by a creeping sensation at the back of her neck. She turned her head abruptly, half expecting to see someone behind them.

  Nothing.

  She turned back to the others. No one else seemed to have noticed anything.

  The creeping sensation clung to Echo like a leech. She reined her mount to a stop and listened for a couple minutes. Jumping, she turned her attention to the gurgling river; something had made a loud splash several feet back, startling her.

  “You okay, Echo?” Mari shouted back. All three of her companions were watching her curiously. She looked to the river one last time and shook her head.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. I think there’s a big fish or something back there,” she said and coaxed her horse into a trot until she caught up with the others.

  She’d told them it was a fish, but a dark feeling crept into her heart like a stretching shadow at sunset; she was certain they were being followed.