A Shadow's Tale (14 page)

‘Hm?'

‘You said you were trying to get away from your family, to keep them safe. You never said why.'

I sighed, shifting into a more comfortable position, looking out over the city with its pinpricks of street lights. Leaning on my hands, I thought carefully about my words. After all, he was one of us now. He might as well know how we work. ‘A part demon's life is ruled by prophecy. The more important the demon parent is, the more the prophecy impacts your life. I drew the short sword in that my father is the ruler of all demons. I'm supposed to fight him to the death for control over the demons.'

‘When?'

‘In a month…'

‘And you agreed to help me? Shouldn't you be training to fight?'

‘We're both going to die. It was in the prophecy. We both have to die, so what's the point? We should start moving again before they catch our scent.' I stepped over the edge of the building, to freefall to the ground. Normally it wouldn't be a problem. A storey or two won't do anything to a demon. Any more than that, however, and you're looking at scraping bits of demon off the
pavement. As I landed, I staggered, grabbing onto a lamppost to regain my balance. The sword wound was throbbing again, my heartbeat almost a hum as it raced to keep up with everything I was putting my body through. I nodded once at Bart, signalling that everything was fine to continue the quest.

We walked in silence for another couple of streets before Bart started to have problems. The blood was starting to take effect. He stopped, collapsing onto a nearby bench, breathing ragged as his body tried to fight the onslaught of demonic transformation. I sat next to him, guilt consuming my mind again.

‘I'm sorry, I need to take a break,' he said, leaning his head back to ease his breathing.

‘I shouldn't have given you my blood.' I looked down at my hands folded in my lap. ‘You have no reason to be sorry.'

‘You did what you had to in order to save my life. I'm grateful for that.'

‘There's always an alternative…'

‘Shadow, what's done is done, there's nothing you can do about it.'

I said nothing, leaning my head back against the bench, closing my eyes. It was comforting to just stare at the inside of my eyelids. Nothing complicated, no prophecies, nothing to run from.

‘Hey, Shad, with the blood transfer, what'll I be able to do?'

‘Magic mainly. It should manifest soon, give or take a couple of hours,' I said without looking up at him. ‘You'll be able to use it like mine. It requires concentration, and an ability to visualise what you want it to do. For example,' I raised a hand to chest height, palm facing upwards. ‘Within my mind, I can see a small orb of magic above my hand.' After a few moments of concentration, it slowly appeared. ‘You could imagine it attacking something or someone, or seeking something and bringing it to you.'

‘Cool.'

‘So, what's our next move?' I was starting to get restless. Staying in one place for too long when there were people looking for us was a recipe for disaster, especially since neither of us were in any state to fight, especially not if Bart was going to undergo a rather fast demonic transformation soon.

‘We continue going north-west, towards the mountains. When we get there, we should be able to get up to the cave easily,' Bart said, starting to walk along the street. I followed him like a kitten on a string. ‘By the way, did you recognise our mysterious assailant?'

I gritted my teeth. Yes, I knew who he was or rather, what group he belonged to. I wasn't sure Bart really wanted or needed to know though. ‘Yes, I did recognise him.'

He suddenly became worried. ‘Who was it?'

‘No one you want to know.'

‘Shad…Can you at least tell me why he was after us then?' He was starting to get a little irritated, that much I could tell. I started to chew on my lip, looking at the Kraferr out of the corner of my eye.

‘He was a Demon Hunter.' I conceded.

‘Like a vampire hunter?'

‘No,' I had to take a deep breath. ‘The Demon Hunters are a cult of humans who worship my father and do his dirty work in this realm.'

‘So his coming after us had nothing to do with the fact that you were with me?'

‘No. If it was, I would have to remove his head personally and spit down his neck. They're only supposed to be after me.'

I couldn't help but notice the silence Bart was keeping up as we continued our trek in silence. I pulled the hood of my cloak over my face as I glared at the ground, cursing myself in every single language I knew. I placed a hand on the hilt of my sword, keeping an ear out for anything unusual. Bart stopped again, sniffing the air. I paused, watching him carefully for any tell-tale
signs that meant we had to make a rapid exit.

‘Smell something?'

‘No, nothing. I can't see, smell or hear anything. That's not normal.' I closed my eyes, reaching out with my mind to try to pick up any other forms of consciousness. I came up with a couple of lizards and a stray cat. Nothing of any note. But there was something else there. Something doing its damnest to hide from me, slipping out of my grasp every time I tried to get a hold on it.

A figure dropped down from the rooftop. I jumped, drawing my sword. Bart stood slightly in front of me, claws at the ready. The figure held up his hands in a peaceful, not quite surrendering gesture. A young man, perhaps only a couple of years older than me. He smelled a little strange, not unlike Bart, but a scent all his own.

‘I'm not here to fight you,' he said, ‘I am Sither. Sither Moonspike, last Shapeshifter standing of the Yul tribe. I was just passing by and I overheard that you were embarking on some sort of…journey.'

Bart relaxed enough to put his claws away. ‘I'm Bart, this is Shadow.' Sither inclined his head gracefully towards me. I returned the gesture, sheathing my sword again but keeping my hand on its hilt. I couldn't sense anything hostile coming from the newcomer, but that didn't mean that he couldn't turn evil.

‘I have a few talents in warfare that may be useful to you both, if you will allow me to accompany you.'

‘Shadow?' Bart asked in an undertone.

‘I can't sense anything bad coming off him. Chances are he'll be harmless enough towards us.' I took care to keep my voice low, unsure of how good Sither's hearing was.

Bart nodded and started walking again, Sither and I following quietly.

Concrete pavements soon gave way to dense woodland as we approached the foot of the mountain. We continued onwards, a
strange trio of a shape shifter-turned-demon, a demon and an unknown. Bart stopped, listening carefully. I cast a glance at him, sensing worry cascading off him in waves.

‘Shadow, Sither…I think we have company.'

I drew both my swords, brow furrowed in concentration and concern. I knew I was in no state to fight. Nor was Bart. I couldn't even morph! Sither was the only chance we had of getting out of the fight alive. I closed my eyes, trying to sense our attackers. All I heard was the blood pounding in my ears. All I smelled was earth, blood and shifter. All I could feel was Bart's agitation and worry. The wind ruffled the Kraferr's fur, bringing with it the sharp tang that promised rain. I tightened my grip on my sword, ignoring the pain that lanced through my damaged heart. Nature settled. Not a leaf rustled. I slashed at something not more than a shadow. Claws ripped at my arm. Shallow gashes leaked tiny droplets if blood. I strained my ears to hear more, hear better, hear past the unnatural silence.

There!

I swung my sword at neck height. It met with a satisfying flesh-and-bone resistance. A body thudded to the ground. I threw my sword at another attacker, listening out for the crunch as it hit its target, drawing my other blade and preparing myself.

‘Slay the One and his allies!'

My temper snapped. Anger boiled through my mind. Magic surged through my muscles, begging to be used. I shouted out in Demonic. Black energy poured from my hands. I didn't care about losing control now. Not while Bart was in mortal danger. Sither could handle himself. Bart was still injured. He had been injured while defending me.

A handful of heartbeats later, the Outlaw Kraferrs lay dead in pools of blood around us. I fell to one knee, my arms around my ribs. Goddess, it hurt to breathe. My secondary heart was beating so fast. Bart crouched next to me.

‘Shadow, you shouldn't have done that. You need to rest!'

I gritted my teeth. Rest? Now? Forget it! The monkey boys might have back up. ‘I'm fine,' I muttered, pushing myself to my feet. The sudden movement proved to be too much. I collapsed onto the ground again. I couldn't hear anything through the frantic beating of my secondary heart. The magical wave had taken more energy than I had realised. A secondary heart is just that – secondary. It could run my body for a matter of about two weeks, as long as the demon doesn't do anything too strenuous, ample time for the primary heart to recover and take over full duty once more. After the exertion of the battle, I guessed I had a handful of days at most.

I expected to hit hard, unforgiving ground. Instead, someone caught me before I could, cradling me carefully in their arms.

‘I told you, you need rest. So just relax,' ordered Bart. I felt like arguing back, but didn't. He was trying to help. I felt his claw rest on the pulse point on my neck. His hand then moved close to my wounded heart. I hissed in pain, pushing his hand away. He wasn't trained! He didn't know what to do! But he maintained his hand close to the injury.

‘Let me try, Shad.'

Grudgingly, I let him.

When Vrael and I heal someone, we use magic to fuse together the fibres of the muscle and reconnect the cells. This becomes harder and harder the deeper we go into an organism, and becomes more difficult the older the wound gets as the magic has to interfere with the natural healing process. Bart was finding this out the hard way. Slowly, the depths of the wound began to close enough to staunch the bleeding before he was forced to stop by the toll the magic was taking on his strength.

‘Thank you,' I murmured. He smiled slightly, standing up and holding out his hand. I took it, letting him help me to my feet. We looked out over the battlefield. Bart gagged, I guess disgusted by the sight of the remnants of the fight. I was used to the smells of battle. The sight of blood didn't turn my stomach. Don't get me
wrong though. It's not that death and killing don't bother me, it's that this was an exception. The outlaws wouldn't have hesitated to kill us. We should not have had to hesitate to kill them. All that was left was for me to convince myself that it was self-defence.

‘Why were they after us? You said that they believe the necklace should remain undiscovered, but why the violence?'

‘The Outlaws used to be a group of Kraferrs who protected the Ones on their quest. But the Outlaws got scared that the Ones would ask a wrong question, which leads to the One's death and moves the Kraferrs one step closer to extinction. Well, the idea of ‘protect by force' kinda turned into ‘kill'.

‘I see.' My eyes wandered over the corpses. I spotted my second sword embedded in the chest of a dead Kraferr. I pulled it out, trying to ignore the sound of shattered bone against the metal. I wiped the blade on the grass in an attempt to clean as much of the gore from it as possible. ‘It looks like the Kraferrs are another few specimens short then.' My mind, unbidden, turned to my own species. The part demons. How we had been everywhere, in almost every dimension. Now only the Roth-Mercian clan was left. My clan. And it looked like the Kraferrs were going to follow the same path.

‘Yes,' Bart spoke again, shaking me from my dark thoughts. ‘But it's done now. Not much we can do about it.'

‘Hm.'

I listened to Bart gagging again as he looked out over the bloodstained, corpse-strewn ground. I rolled my eyes, trying to block out the sound. But there was something more behind it. There was something else coming off him. I whipped around to face him as he fell to his knees, his hands around his ribs. I knelt next to him, holding his shoulders straight to try to alleviate his breathing.

‘What's wrong?'

‘The…blood…' He managed to gasp. ‘It's interfering…with everything!' He tried to get up again, but his legs gave way
beneath him. I gritted my teeth. All the signs pointed to an imminent demonic possession. Not a good thing. I wracked my mind for a possible solution, for anything that could help him. The bracers! Digging into my pockets, I pulled out two long bracelets of metal. Shaeman had crafted them, working a length of thin, silver wire into the steel. I slid one over Bart's wrist, pulling at the lacing to keep them tight against his fur.

‘I don't normally use these,' I explained, slipping the other one into place, ‘but I think this qualifies as an emergency. They have silver in them. It'll help control the demon blood.'

‘Shadow,' he started to say, lying back on the ground with a groan. ‘Thanks.'

I sensed despair starting to well up inside him and swallowed hard. ‘It's one of the few things I can do. After all, it's my fault you've got this problem.'

‘Shad…' His voice held a hint of a warning. I tensed, throwing all my senses onto high alert. ‘There was nothing else you could have done.' Realising we weren't going to be attacked, I relaxed slightly, keeping my head bowed. He started to try to get to his feet, but I pushed him back down again, one hand on his shoulder.

‘Calm down and relax for a bit. The silver should take effect soon, but you need to let it work, not get yourself all worked up.'

Bart fell back again, grimacing slightly. I rolled my eyes discreetly, shifting my limbs into a more comfortable position. He turned his head to look at me.

‘Shad, does demonic magic cause any interference with other kinds? Like, will it change or block my Kraferric powers?'