Shadowlands
Authors: Violette Malan
VIOLETTE MALAN
SHADOWLANDS
VIOLETTE MALAN—
A bold new voice in fantasy
from DAW Books:
The Mirror Lands:
THE MIRROR PRINCE
SHADOWLANDS
The Novels of Dhulyn and Parno
:
THE SLEEPING GOD
THE SOLDIER KING
THE STORM WITCH
THE PATH OF THE SUN
VIOLETTE MALAN
SHADOWLANDS
Copyright © 2012 by Violette Malan.
All Rights Reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-101-59763-7
Cover art by Paul Young.
Cover design by G-Force Design.
DAW Book Collectors No. 1596.
DAW Books are distributed by Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Book designed by Elizabeth Glover.
All characters in this book are fictitious.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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Nearly all the designs and trade names in this book are registered trademarks. All that are still in commercial use are protected by United States and international trademark law.
First Printing, August 2012
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
For Paul
As always I want to first thank my editor and publisher, Sheila Gilbert, and thank my agent, Joshua Bilmes. Really, without them I wouldn’t need to thank anyone else. There are also people who work alongside them, however, who also need my thanks, people like Debra Euler, Josh Starr, and Marsha Jones at DAW. My thanks also go to my good friends Shari Cohen and Steven Serber, for lending me their house, and their neighborhood. And to Barb Wilson-Orange, for helping me again with my proofs. Thanks to Vaso Angelis who helped me out again, this time with some Greek phrasing; to Jerie Shaw who pointed me at Dr. Paul Ekman’s books; to Robin Gibbings for her advice on Australian mines (any errors are mine); and to Jim C. Hines for advice on a more delicate subject. Brian Baird of Computer Depot in Kingston helped me with the fix on the major tool of my trade. Thanks to Samantha Milks and her online book club, whose questions about
The Mirror Prince
helped me clarify some of my ideas for this book.
Special thanks to the staff of Hair of the Dog Pub and Restaurant. If you’re in Toronto, stop by and enjoy yourself. I always do.
Three people purchased the rights to have characters named after them at three entirely different silent auctions. The first is Jaiden
Corey Wayne Mattice, by his parents, Corey Mattice and Teresa Lucas. I had to fiddle with the name a little to make it fit, and I hope Jade Enchanter likes the book when he gets old enough to read it. The second is Yves Crepeau, who I’m sure won’t mind being a bit of an Outsider. He’s not alone, however, as I’ve made Wai-kwong Wong an Outsider as well.
T
HE SMELLS, SCENTS, AROMAS in the place humans called a bar were almost overwhelming, even when Foxblood was in his Rider form. There were food smells—though these weren’t so varied as the humans seemed to think—and the smells of perfumes, of sweat, of strange drugs, of sickness and decay, both from the foods and the humans themselves. He and his kind had learned to mask their own scents the same way, though these humans weren’t as sensitive even as Riders.
There was so much
dra’aj
here, and soon, soon he would take some. For now, it was enough to know it was here waiting for him. He’d imposed control on his Pack, so he couldn’t relax it in himself. Part of him longed simply to herd all these humans into one place and hold them against a day of shortage. But it was too soon to think of doing such things. The risk was still too great. Not that humans could be much of a threat, but until he knew what the Riders were planning, until he knew where the Horn was, and who now held it, Fox and his Pack had to be patient, to watch and be wary.
They could afford to wait. It wasn’t as if there would ever be any shortage. This pool of
dra’aj
was unspoiled, untapped. Even the Riders
didn’t know about it. Not all humans had the same level of the vital energy, but there were billions of them. An unending resource. The Hunt could live off them forever.
And human
dra’aj
was different. Less, perhaps, in each individual, but oh, what there was, was choice, tasty, and lasting. Fox looked at his hand, turning it over to study first the palm, then the back. It stayed a hand. That could never be done with the
dra’aj
of the People.
It couldn’t hurt to taste a little now. Just a little. That one, that fair-haired woman with her strange blue Moonward eyes in her rosy Sunward face, that walked toward him now, stepping out of the path of the waitress. She would do.
Fox reached out and grabbed the human by the wrist as she passed him by, spoke the words, drained her, and watched the hands of others reach out to help her as she stumbled and went down.