Shadow Magic (17 page)

Thorn just shook his head in wonder.

Lily continued educating Thorn. Her heritage had been drummed into her—and every noble—since the crib. She pointed to a statue of a sorcerer surrounded by birds. A pair of massive eagle’s wings rose from his shoulders. “That is Prince Typhoon. Master of the element of air. Those descended from him call themselves the wind lords and live far to the east, beyond the Eagle Mountains.”

K’leef joined in, pointing at the next great statue—a merman rising out of cleverly sculpted waves with sharks and dolphins surfing alongside. “Then you have Prince Coral of the element of water.” He moved around to a figure wreathed in marble-sculpted flames. “This is my ancestor, Prince Djinn. He founded the Sultanate of Fire to the south.”

Thorn faced a figure with bark-like skin and antlers jutting from his forehead. “And this is Prince Herne, lord of the earth, yes?”

Lily smiled. “You know much about him?”

“I grew up next to Herne’s Forest. I know plenty. They say he’s still alive, sleeping in a deep cave guarded by a black unicorn.”

K’leef nodded. “So they say. Herne didn’t believe in the more formal traditions, and neither do his descendants. They’re called druids, aren’t they?”

“We’ve got one in Stour. You have a sick animal and old Birch’ll fix it right up.” Thorn shrugged. “No grand palaces or castles for the druids. They’re happy sleeping in meadows.”

Lily pointed at the last pair of statues. “Prince Solar, lord of light, and finally, Prince Shadow, the founder of my house, my family.”

The lord of darkness loomed over them. Carved out of black marble, he was hooded and attended by cavorting skeletons. In the folds of his cloak lurked ghosts and phantoms.

“So, since we’re here, can you teach me some magic, too?” Thorn asked K’leef. “It don’t need to be nothing fancy.”

“Sorry, but I can’t.” K’leef picked up a book. “You have to have the blood of the princes in your veins to be able to create magic. It also dictates which type of magic you can create. If you’re descended from Prince Djinn, like me, then you will only ever cast fire magic. The same goes for the heirs of Prince Coral. They will only ever be water magicians.”

Thorn pointed at Lily. “But what if she marries Gabriel? That’s light and darkness.”

Lily paled at the thought of it.

K’leef continued. “One blood will dominate. Any children would have light
or
darkness, but never both. It’s impossible to cast more than one element. And even if you have the blood of the princes, it doesn’t guarantee you’ll be able to use magic.”

“Like my uncle, who can’t cast a single spell,” said Lily. “The blood’s been diluted too much. Each generation is slightly weaker than the last. The blood—and the powers—of the Six Princes runs thin nowadays.”

K’leef wove the flames through his fingers. “This is the best I can do. My ancestors were able to turn the whole sky ablaze.”

It was similar for Lily’s family. The Shadows were once masters of the undead, but it had been many decades since any of them had been able to summon a single ghost or zombie. Her father had tried, and the effort had wiped him out for a week. Iblis Shadow had known three spells, and that was considered a lot in these times. The ancients would have known
hundreds
.

Lily looked up at Prince Shadow. What would he make of the sorcerers of today?

He’d think we were ants.

They moved past the circle of statues and farther into the heart of the library.

There were objects other than books. Armor, weapons. Boxes with no openings, and bracelets and random cups and circlets.

Thorn picked up a sword of black iron. “This is nice.”

Lily barely glanced at it. “It’s the Sword of Midnight. Prince Shadow used it to cut time into three, thus creating the past, present, and future.”

“Wow, does it work?”

“No. It’s a fake.” She picked up a crown. “Most of this stuff is. My uncle spent years searching for magical artifacts. He lost a lot of gold buying useless bits of armor, weapons, and rings from swindlers and cheats. My father would check each item, then tell him that all he’d gotten was another piece of junk, but it didn’t stop my uncle from buying more.”

Eventually they reached a circular chamber with a large table and plenty of space around it.

“This will do,” said K’leef. He looked around him and up at the ceiling. His face darkened. “I didn’t expect to find
him
here.”

The painting on the ceiling covered the whole central chamber. A man, masked and armored, dominated the middle.

Zombies, skeletons, ghouls, and ghosts surrounded him, writhing in torment. Behind him were ruined cities, and the skies were a storm of howling spirits.

“Astaroth Shadow,” said Lily. “Many of the horror stories you’ve heard about our family originate from him.”

“Let me guess,” said Thorn. “He was just misunderstood?”

“No. He was pure evil. He raised armies of the dead. Turned cities into graveyards. All thanks to that mask he’s wearing.” She gazed up at it. Carved from black stone, it was plain, but coldly elegant. The mouth was part opened into a sneer of contempt and the eyes tilted into a cruel, hateful frown.

“What did it do?” asked Thorn.

“I’ve heard that he based the mask on the face of Prince Shadow himself and gained some of our founder’s power, adding it to his own magical strength. And he was powerful to begin with.”

His blood flows through me. His deeds taint my past.

But he was one of the greatest of my family.

Pride and shame mingled uneasily in Lily’s heart.

K’leef stared at the image, his face showing an anger Lily hadn’t seen before. “It took all five of the other Great Houses to defeat him.”

Lily continued. “With the mask, even a common farmer could be a great sorcerer. Certainly greater than any sorcerer alive now.”

“Well, that’s sorted, then,” said Thorn. “Just get the mask and it’s job done.”

K’leef shook his head. “It was destroyed many centuries ago.” He directed Lily to a clear space. “Stand here and close your eyes.”

“What shall I do?” asked Thorn. “I can help.”

“Not with this, Thorn,” said K’leef.

Thorn frowned and took a step back.

Lily did as she was told. “What am I trying to do?”

“Magic is an art, not a craft. It’s born out of the heart, not the mind. It’s passion, desire. It can be rage, too.”

“But shouldn’t we be studying the spell books? The library’s filled with them.”

“No, it would take too long. This is not about copying another’s work or method. It’s about creating your own.” He stood close to her, whispering from behind. “You’re Lady Shadow; your element is darkness and all that dwells within it. There are shadows, of course, but there are other things, too. The spirits of the dead. Dreams, nightmares, sleep, and the creatures of night. The moon—that is yours, too.”

“It’s too much. I don’t know where to begin.”

“Pick one thing.”

“What about Castle Gloom?”

“Good choice.”

The castle was darkness made solid. No natural light had entered it since the day Prince Shadow, the original lord of darkness, had built it. The corridors recalled her family’s every footstep. The stone walls in the bedrooms had absorbed the dreams of every Shadow.

How many members of her family had been born here? Almost all of them. Her own birthing cries had once filled the castle. Did it remember?

Things had been buried here. Not just the dead, but memories, too. And secrets. And sorrows.

Sorrows most of all.

I never said good-bye.

I saw them and passed them by without a word. If only I’d said something to Dante on that last day. Or even just smiled at him. He was my brother and I loved him and never told him.

Just a single hug would have made all the difference.

The next time she’d seen him, he was lying under a sheet, his body burned beyond recognition.

Had they even wanted her? Her parents had been polite, formal. Her father’s priority had been to teach Dante; her mother’s was to support her husband. They’d loved each other so much that there’d been nothing left for her.

Lily tightened her hands into fists.

They’d dressed her in silks and given her jewels and dolls, but none of that had been what she’d wanted.

All she’d had was Custard.

Pink and blind and smaller than her palm, he’d been the runt of the litter. She’d fed him from her breakfast plate, and he’d licked her face and slobbered all over her dresses.

Now he was gone, too.

She wished she’d drunk the poison.

Custard. What a silly name for a black dog.

She heard a startled breath. Was it K’leef?

She kept her eyes closed. All the other dogs in the litter had been pure black, but not Custard. He’d had white socks. Maybe that’s why she’d wanted him so much. He was the unwanted one, too.

She’d loved the way he yapped. She could hear it so clearly, even now.

“By the Six Princes,” said K’leef. “Lily…look.”

Lily wiped her eyes with her sleeve and opened them.

A gray mist slowly swirled on the black stone surface. There was something inside the mist—an animal. Not flesh and blood, but it had heart and a voice. And a tail, a little stump that was wagging excitedly. The dog met Lily’s gaze and jumped up and down.

“A ghost,” said Thorn, stunned. “I don’t believe it.”

“Custard…can I touch him?” asked Lily.

“Try.”

She reached out….

“Lily!”

Pan stood by the door, staring at them horrified, sword in his hands. Then he gritted his teeth and ran forward.

“No!”
Lily screamed.

The sword crashed down on the table, and the mist fell away, leaving nothing there.

Her uncle gazed at the empty table, trembling. “Lily, what have you done?”

“H
ave you ever seen a person burn?” said Pan. The question slipped out as a whisper. “Have you?”

“Of course not.”

“They say the smoke suffocates you before the heat becomes too much to bear, but that’s not true. It’s not true at all.”

Lily said nothing. K’leef and Thorn were gone, pushed out of the library as Pan had dragged her along by her wrist like some little child. She’d heard the doors of the library slam behind her with a brutal finality.

Pan had yelled at servants to get out of the way and had shoved a boy who hadn’t been quick enough, sending him tumbling.

They’d marched through the castle until they’d reached her quarters. Pan had booted the door open and thrown Lily in.

She was scared, but not as scared as Uncle Pan seemed. He sagged against the door, sweating and shaking. “I watched her. I watched her hair begin to smoke. I saw the blisters swell and pop all over her. Her eyes, Lily. I saw them bubbling.”

“Who was she?”

“Some village woman who knew a few simple spells for fixing bones and curing fevers, but that was enough. She was a witch, and that was the law. They burned her child, too, just to be sure. A child much younger than you, Lily.”

“Why? She was helping people. That wasn’t fair.”

“Lily, do you know what you’ve done? If anyone found out, you would suffer the same fate. I couldn’t save you. No one could. That family friend of ours, Baron Sable? He and his sons would pile on the logs. Tyburn himself would be the one to tie you to the stake and light the flames. Then what about Gehenna? Solar would march in and scrub the Shadow name from history. He would turn your people into slaves. That’s what conquerors do. Is that what you want to happen to Mary? To Rose?”

“Why are they so afraid? Men can practice magic, and when they do it, they’re called heroes.”

“Men can control magic but women can’t. There are too many stories of disasters and wild magic, all caused by women who ended up slaves to the very powers they’d hoped to master.”

“Stories told by men. That doesn’t make them true, Uncle.”

“But it does make them
law
. Laws that can’t be changed. Not by me and not by you. Things are dangerous enough around here without you summoning…whatever it was.”

“It was—”

“I don’t want to know, Lily!” he snapped. “I thought you were sensible. What’s happened to you?”

“Someone killed my family and tried to murder me.”

Pan whipped around and glared at her. It was so sudden, so shocking, that she stepped back, afraid of what he might do. Was this her uncle?

Then, just as suddenly, the fierceness fled. His eyes dulled, his shoulders sank, and he stood there, a sad little man. “They were my family, too,” he whispered. “Not a day passes without me wishing I had died instead of them. Useless Pandemonium Shadow instead of Iblis. It might have been the one good thing I achieved in my life.” He shook his head. “Leave the investigation to the adults. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”

Lily took hold of her uncle’s hand, ashamed that she didn’t realize he missed her family, too, that the pain was shared. “I am Lady Shadow now. I can look after myself, Uncle.” And she could do more. Much more. “I summoned Custard. You saw it. Look, Uncle, no one needs to know. But what if I could summon other spirits? Or even enter the Twilight?”