Shadow's Voice

by Natalie Johanson

  “It has red eyes!” Jenkins drew his sword.

  Aaron raised his sword to cut it down and the beast growled.

  “Wait, Aaron,” Micah halted his guard. Rose’s words of wolves and shadows came back to him.

  The beast turned its red eyes on Micah. She is failing.

  “What?” Micah frowned at it and took a step back.

  “M’lord?”

  The female is failing. It is time you learned your role.

  Micah felt his mouth drop.

  “Sire, what is it?” Aaron asked, his sword still held at the ready.

  Micah waved his guard’s question away while staring at the strange creature in front of him. Too large and too dark, its edges blurred and undefined. “It’s fine, Aaron.” He started to follow the creature as it turned away. He took the lantern from the terrified servant.

  “M’lord?” Jenkins took a step toward him.

  Micah looked from the wolf to his guards, who were staring at him mouths agape. He felt he needed to follow the wolf, but they should not be party to whatever was going to happen. “Wait for me at my sitting room.”

  “But Sire—”

  “That’s an order, Aaron.”

  Micah followed the wolf as it padded down the hallway, making no sound as it moved. The shadows seemed to grow and deepen, making the corridor unnaturally dark. Micah glanced behind and saw his worried guards standing where he left them.

  “What are you?” he asked as they walked further from the guards. The wolf continued without answering. Micah looked at the halls and noticed they were approaching the old wing, abandoned since the fire. As they walked Micah noticed the lack of people in the halls, no servants. They should have met someone in the halls by now.

  “What have you done to my people?”

  The humans are untouched. We are the ones hidden.

  Micah heart sped up. “How?”

  Again, he was met with silence. He followed, and slowly the scorch marks became visible on the walls, the floor started to grow with dust and charcoal. The creature turned to a closed door and disappeared into the surrounding darkness. Micah stared at the door a moment before opening it. He raised his lantern and gasped, “Rose.”

  She was sprawled on the floor and not moving. He rushed to her and set the lantern on the floor. “Rose?” He gently rolled her over. Her skin was so cold, so pale. He put his hand over her mouth and felt the slightest of breath.

  She fails. This is your role.

  Micah looked up and the darkness seemed to press against the boundary of the small light. “What role?”

  He was met with silence.

  “Damn all of you,” he cursed them. “Whatever you are.” Gently he pulled the unconscious woman into his lap. “Rose, you need to wake up now.”

  Her eyes moved underneath her eyelids. He had to wake her. That was all he knew. Once she was awake again he could get her help, but he knew if she didn’t wake first, no amount of Subpleont berries would save her. Micah looked at her ashen face and knew it. He shook her shoulder, the injured one, and raised his voice. “Rose!”

  She moaned, and her eyes fluttered.

  Micah gripped her by both her shoulders and shook her. Her head whipped back and forth. “You will open your eyes!” he commanded.

  She did. Rose gasped and her eyes fluttered open. She moaned and slumped forward against his chest. Micah brushed her hair out of her face.

  “Rose, look at me. You can do it. I need you to focus on me, Rose.”

  She turned her head and met his eyes but something was wrong with hers. Wisps of . . . what was that? Micah held her face between his hands and stared into her eyes. Her bright green eyes were dull and black shadows were swirling around in them. What in the gods . . .

  Rose was frowning at him. “What . . .”

  “What happened to you, Rose? What’s wrong with your eyes?”

  She just frowned at him. He licked his lips, growing more uneasy as the seconds passed. “Do you know who I am?”

  Rose blinked, once at first but then again. Some shadows disappeared from her eyes.

  “Who am I Rose? I know you know.”

  “You . . . are . . . .”

  “Who am I, Rose? Answer me.”

  Rose blinked and looked over his shoulder at the wall of shadow and darkness. “They’re talking to me. Should I go with them?”

  “No, Rose, you shouldn’t. Your place is here. Remember?”

  She looked back at him “My place?”

  “Yes, Rose. Your place is here. We need you.”

  Rose nodded. More shadow wisps left her eyes and they started to brighten. Micah let his hands fall from her face but she sagged against him.

  “Now, can you tell me who I am?” Micah wrapped his arms around her as she seemed to huddle against his chest. She was still so cold.

  “You are . . . Micah . . . .” she breathed.

  Micah let out a breath and sagged with relief. He brushed her hair back from her face again and noticed the shadows in the room were back to being normal shadows. They no longer pressed against the light of the lantern.

  “Micah? I am very confused,” she spoke in a small voice.

  You’re not the only one. He tried to sound confident. “Everything is all right. We just need to get you to the Healers.”

  He started to gather her in his arms when she reached out and grabbed an old, battered book on the floor.

  “This is important, I think.” She hugged it to her chest.

  Micah stood, with Rose in his arms, and started back toward the Healers’ Wing.

  Rose turned her face into his chest. Her eyes closed but this time Micah didn’t worry. Micah shook his head. He had no idea what to think of what had happened. He glanced at the tome in her arms. Let us pray there are answers in that.

  As he reached the main hallway a guard peeled away from the wall and shadowed him. Micah turned the corner and another guard left his post along the wall and followed just behind him, next to the first.

  “M’lord?”

  Micah looked to the servant that had just walked out of a room. “Run to Madame Rita. Tell her I’m bringing her a patient and find Captain Sayla. Wake her if you must. Send her to the Healers’ Wing.”

  Micah strode past the startled boy. Thankfully, he met no other people in the dark halls. He had no wish to explain anything. Rita met him at the main entrance with her short hair sticking up at all ends and her hands on her hips.

  “Gods above, what has she done now?”

  “Have some care, Madame Rita; I do not think this was her doing.”

  Rita sighed and opened a door off her right. Micah followed and set Rose on the bed. He was going to take the book from her, but after a second thought he set it on the corner of her bed by her head. Just as he stood the door slammed open behind him. He turned to see Mariah in a wrinkled shirt half tucked in her trousers, blond hair a loose mess behind her.

  “What has she done now?”

  “Outside.” Micah pushed past her into the corridor. “We have much to talk about before either of us rest.”

  Chapter 33

  Rose gingerly rolled over. Her whole head hurt enough to make her teeth ache. Just rolling onto her back made her stomach heave. Rose clamped her mouth shut and squeezed her eyes closed. I will not throw up again. I will not throw up again. I will not. It was clearer now, more than ever, that her magic was changing. She needed to learn how to control it—how to use it and not let it use her.

  She opened her eyes to the darkened room and stared at the ceiling. The very blank, very boring ceiling. Rita had tried opening the shutters the first day and Rose had screamed at the barest touch of light. Ever since then, Rita had boarded up the windows, and the stuffy room was startin
g to stink. She desperately wanted fresh air.

  Rose rubbed her eyes. Madame Rita kept reassuring her the light blindness, as she called it, was temporary. She hoped Rita was right. Every moment her eyes continued to fail her, a sick feeling settled into her stomach. Rita had said she’d used too much magic too quickly and without enough rest. Rose had bitten her tongue. Ever since she came here there hadn’t been enough rest. Her magic was growing and changing and exhausting her more than she’d realized. Rose had been using it more than she had in years, ever since she disappeared from home. Ever since she’d stopped being Little Flower. What she wanted was a simple, quiet life, and she’d found anything but.

  A gentle knock came from the door and Rose grunted. She shielded her eyes from the small shaft of light from the door as King Micah slipped inside the door and shut it quietly. The king seated himself next to her bed and turned worried eyes to her.

  “I apologize for the light.”

  “Stop apologizing to me.”

  King Micah huffed.

  She reached over and grabbed a damp cloth that was soaking in water and Subpleont leaves. Rose mashed it across her forehead and propped herself up against the wall.

  “Madame Rita quite loudly informed me you were not able to leave yet, so I hope you do not mind speaking in here with the captain and myself.”

  Rose shook her head gingerly. “No.”

  “Thank you.”

  Rose appraised the king’s tired appearance. His eyes were sunken, his clothing wrinkled.

  “The captain will be here shortly,” he said.

  Rose nodded and immediately regretted the movement. Her whole head had its own pulse. “May I ask, in the meantime,” Rose paused and closed her eyes against the throbbing before she continued, “how did you find me? I remember passing out and then . . . I woke up in here. And I think . . . I think I remember you finding me, but it is all very hazy.” She hadn’t been well enough to speak with the king before this. The captain had come, a few days ago and tried to speak with her but Rose hadn’t managed to stay awake long enough for more than a word or two.

  Micah hesitated before answering. He stared at the wall and absently rubbed his thumb across his finger. “I was led to you.”

  “By?”

  Micah took a deep breath before answering. “A . . . wolf. I think. A wolf made of shadow.”

  Rose stared at him, her mouth hanging open. The same wolf that I see? There was a brisk knock at the door and Captain Sayla walked in. She held the door wide and the light from the hallway glared into the room. The light burned into Rose’s eyes and she shrieked. She covered her face with the blankets.

  King Micah slammed the door shut, and the captain yelped. The bang reverberated in Rose’s head and the throbbing doubled. Rose curled up on herself and groaned.

  “What is—” Captain Sayla started.

  “She is sensitive to almost any light still,” King Micah spoke quickly but quietly, “Madame Rita said it’s the worse magical overuse she’d seen.” Rose felt a gentle hand on the back of her head and his voice close to her ear. “Do I need to get a Healer?”

  “Nooo,” Rose groaned out. “Just . . .” she had to take a breath, “give me a minute.”

  The bed dipped as he sat on the edge and gingerly, so gingerly, Rose uncurled and leaned back against the wall. Her head thumped and pounded in time to her movement. Rose groaned and clamped her mouth shut. I will not get sick. I will not get sick.

  “Are you going to be ill?”

  Rose cracked open her eyes. “I refuse to be ill in front of others.”

  He chuckled softly. “Some things you cannot control.”

  “I will control this,” she bit out. Too many things were out of her control lately. It was a feeling she didn’t like, couldn’t stand, and if this was the one thing that gave her a small amount of control back then so be it.

  The king found the abandoned wash rag and rinsed it in the water. He wrung it out and held it against her head. Rose took it from him and took another deep breath. “See? I’m fine.”

  King Micah sat back. “You look anything but fine, but I commend your control.”

  “I apologize, Rose. I was not aware you were still so ill.”

  Rose waved away the captain’s apology.

  The king stayed seated on the edge of the small bed, the captain having taken the only chair.

  “As I was saying before, a wolf appeared out of nowhere and led me to Rose.”

  Captain Sayla cocked an eyebrow. “A wolf?” She looked at Rose. “One of your shadow creatures?”

  Rose clucked her tongue at the captain. “They are not my creatures.” She looked at the king. “Did it . . . say . . . anything?”

  Micah had a haunted look on his face. “It spoke in my mind. It was talking about you; said you were failing and that I needed to learn my role.”

  “What role?”

  The king shook his head and looked at the captain. “I do not know. That was all it would say.”

  “They spoke of some balance; that they have to maintain the Balance. Perhaps whatever balance they keep hinders how much they can interfere with us. It feels very much like they wish to tell me more, but are stopped.” Rose looked back to the king. “They led you to me?”

  The king nodded, and the haunted look came back. “I found you unconscious on the floor. I tried to wake you, but when I did . . .” He paused and seemed to gather himself before he continued. “You were not yourself. It looked as though shadows were in your eyes, moving shadows. You didn’t recognize me or know where you were.”

  A hollow feeling settled in Rose’s stomach. What in the hells happened to me? She buried her hands in the blankets to hide their shaking. “All I remember is that I thought it was a dream. I was lost in a . . . it looked like a dead forest. Fog was everywhere. And in the mist . . . .” Rose trailed off. The voices had come from the fog. The horrible voices saying things she didn’t understand. They had terrified her. They still did. They wanted something from her; something important.

  “Rose?” The king was staring at her, close to her face, his eyes wide and worried. “Still with us?”

  She took a breath and it rattled in her throat. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  He nodded, giving her arm a gentle squeeze.

  Rose shook herself and went back to her tale. “There were . . . things in the fog. They were talking to me but I couldn’t understand what they wanted.”

  “You said they wanted you to go with them.”

  Rose stared at him, terrified. “I thought it was a nightmare,” she whispered.

  “We don’t know what happened, Rose,” Captain Sayla spoke up. “Maybe that’s all it was.”

  Rose ignored her. It was not a nightmare. She knew it and the captain knew it. Whatever had happened to her . . . what if it happened again? What would’ve happened to her if the king hadn’t found her? Her hands were clenched together in the blankets hard enough she was sure there would be half-moon marks all over her hands later.

  “But that,” Micah pointed to the old book sitting on the nightstand. “Do we know what it is?”

  Rose took a deep breath and set aside the nightmare for a later time. She could do that. She’d practiced over the years; ignoring the nightmares. “It is written in a language I can’t recognize. But it has drawings that are similar to what I found in D’ray’s book.”

  “So, it is some book of magic then,” Captain Sayla guessed. “Why do you think your shadow creatures gave it to you?”

  “The shadows said D’ray was betraying the Balance. I don’t know what balance. They had told me they were hiding something from him.” She looked down at the worn book. “This is it. This is what he’s been searching for.”

  “Balance?” Captain Sayla stared, though her eyes we
re unfocused. She wasn’t looking at Rose.

  Rose nodded. “They said he betrays the balance and his duty but wouldn’t say more.” She watched as the other woman seemed to lose herself in thought. “Do you know what balance they were talking about?”

  Captain didn’t answer but continued to think and frown.

  “Does this have anything to do with your nursemaid’s tale, Mariah?”

  Finally, she turned to the king. “Perhaps. I feel I know but I can’t remember where I’ve heard that before. Hopefully the professor will mention something in his letter.”

  Now Rose frowned. “What professor?”

  Captain Sayla paused before turning back to Rose. “I have a friend who teaches at the college. He studies old myths and legends. I wrote to him asking if he knew any about shadow wolves. I was reminded of an old nursemaid tale I heard when I was young. I sent to inquire if he knew of any tales through history that would lead any truth or insight to it.”

  “You think he would know something that will help us?” Rose asked

  “I am hoping. I am still awaiting his reply.”

  Rose nodded. “What was the nurse tale?”

  “I don’t remember a lot. I think it was about a mage of sorts that lived in the shadow realm and controlled its denizens. I vaguely remember my mum threatening the shadow creatures would eat me when I misbehaved.” Captain Sayla fidgeted. “It is a thin hope, but I thought . . . .”

  Rose took a deep breath to try to calm the flutter in her stomach. “Any chance there is someone who would recognize the language?”

  King Micah rubbed his chin. “There may be an old scholar or two down in the record tombs that may know it. If not, I’m sure there is a scholar at the college that may be of some help.”

  Rose looked at the book and silently cursed it. The tome had what they needed; they just couldn’t get to it. “I will search them out when Madame Rita lets me out of this room.”

  “I could take it for you.” Captain Sayla reached across the king and held her hand out to Rose. She gathered the book in her arms and held it away from the captain. The captain’s outstretched hand hung between them.