Shadow eater, p.1
Shadow Eater, page 1
part #2 of Shadowlands Series
SHADOW EATER
Shadowlands Book 2
AMOS CASSIDY
Published by Amos Cassidy
Text Copyright © 2016 Amos Cassidy
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Copyright © 2016 Amos Cassidy
All rights reserved
Published by
Amos Cassidy.
ASH
Avery wanted to talk.
I wanted to punch him.
I could sense him hovering in the doorway that separated our rooms, but I kept my back to him, pretending to sleep. I even injected a pretty convincing snore into the facade.
A long moment passed and then the door clicked shut softly. I exhaled, trying to expel the anger and frustration that was locked inside me.
Clay was gone and I was a monster to my people.
I couldn’t do much about the monster part, but I could’ve done something about Clay—I could have gone looking for him. Only problem was that Avery, the guy with the punch-worthy nose, had been dead set against that.
You owe us, Ash. We held up our part of the bargain. Now it’s your turn.
Honestly, I had wanted to tell him where to shove it, but my damn conscious decided to play the honour card, starting a war with my heart which had firmly asserted that the only thing I needed to honour was my sibling bond. I’m not ashamed to say that I’d thrown a tantrum of epic proportions and Avery had finally relented.
One week of Shadow eating, just to clear the area around Apocalypse, and then I’ll take you to look for your brother.
I’d snapped it up because, despite my heart’s bravado, my head knew I wouldn’t last alone out there, even with my Shadow eating ability. I needed them and they bloody knew it. I’d have gone to Jiva if he’d been around, but he’d left for Saul around the same time I’d left to deliver the food to Shelter. I’d have gone to Daemon but getting a meeting with him was proving more difficult than eating noodles with a spoon. He stayed in his lair, guarded by a scowling Reamus.
I had one more day before I could go in search of Clay, but the dark rage inside me at being forced to wait threatened to explode, and it took every ounce of my self-control to keep it in check. Cal was unrelenting in his watch of me. I had only to take a step toward the exit and he would materialise, unyielding and forbidding.
If I could have made it to Daemon, then maybe I could have convinced him to come with me sooner. I wouldn’t have had to wait a week that felt like an eternity—an eternity of hating Avery with every fibre of my being. The full moon would be rising while I was away and I couldn’t help but wonder if Daemon would search for me then, intent on slaking his hunger with the darkness inside me. Ha! Serve him right for refusing to see me!
One more day and I would be out there looking for Clay, and I would find him; I was sure of it.
I held up my hand, the one Daemon had cleansed of its inky pattern. It was dark once again, swirling with ink that resided beneath my skin. Four Shadows, and my whole forearm was now a mass of black swirls. The high it gave me was the only upside. I gnawed on my bottom lip. Was I becoming addicted to the feeling? I’d mentioned this to Avery and he’d gone tight-lipped. Not a great vote of confidence, plus there was something manipulatively calculating about Avery. I didn’t trust him to look out for my best interests, but Daemon, despite his quirks, I trusted.
Hold on Clay, I’m coming for you.
***
“You don’t have to accompany me every time, you know.” I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled up at Avery. “You said one week, and I’m not about to renege on our bargain by running off now.” I would if I wasn’t afraid I wouldn’t make it on my own.
We were standing outside Apocalypse under Freya’s watchful eye.
Avery smiled wryly and walked through the shield into the gloom beyond.
I glanced at Freya who shrugged.
The mule gene in me told me to stay put, to make him come back for me, but the rational part, the part that knew I needed to remain on his good side, made me follow.
I expected him to be waiting for me just beyond the ward, but the bastard had continued walking and I had to jog to catch up.
We walked in silence for several long minutes. Finally we came to a spot west of Jiva’s museum. I looked about and recognised it as an area I had already swept.
“We’ve been here already.”
“We look again.”
“Why? I cleared the Shadows, and I’m pretty sure if there were any more here they’d have come out.” Yep, the Shadows were hot for me.
Avery scanned the terrain, bumpy, broken, and moonlit. The houses here were nothing but eyeless corpses surrounded by rubble. “There, look.”
I followed his gaze and sure enough there it was, a Shadow rising from the ground like a dark ghost.
I shook my head and walked toward it, losing myself to the buzz that filled my veins. It was over in seconds, and the delicious fizz in my veins was gone too soon, leaving me cold and desolate.
“You think it was attracted to this spot?” I asked.
“Maybe.”
I sighed. He was beginning to get on my nerves. “You must have a theory or we wouldn’t be back here.”
“I suspected others may come. I guess I was correct.”
I didn’t like the smug tone to his voice, but his observation did have a silver lining which heated my chest with hope. “So we hang out here. They all come, and I can finish the job.”
Avery snorted.
I grit my teeth. He was too arrogant sometimes, with that dry quirk to his mouth and those derisive glances. “What? What’s wrong with that idea?”
“Shadows are born of dreams, Ashling. Unless everyone stops dreaming, there will always be Shadows.”
My heart skipped a beat as I digested this information.
You stupid fool, Ashling!
Hadn’t Daemon mentioned something similar on our journey to Inferna, something about Knightmares being born of nightmares? Those carnivorous equine creatures with their hungry blazing eyes and flared nostrils were indeed true to their name. I swallowed as the implication finally sank in.
The Shadows would never end.
I’d bargained away my life.
Avery sighed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t look so glum. At least your life will have some meaning.”
I couldn’t let him see how much this affected me. Weakness could be exploited, and as far as he was concerned I had only one – Clay, and intended to keep it that way. I injected cockiness to my tone. “I thought you couldn’t ‘read me.’”
“I can read your expressions just fine.” He exhaled and his gaze softened. “This will benefit your people too. Maybe we can build defences around Jiva’s museum once we’ve cleared out the worst. I know a hag that may be able to place wards around it. Your people could have a new home.”
I didn’t want his sympathy, and the fact that he’d seen through my faux bravado lent a sharp edge to my next words. “Yeah? And what about food? Crops? Supplies?”
“Treaties can be formed in due time. There is hope.”
Despite his soothing words, the panic fluttering in my chest wouldn’t be silenced.
I was trapped.
He strode off, but I wanted to turn and run, to find the entrance to the cusp and be gone. I wanted to be back in Shelter with Clay and Blake and Ryder, but there was no home at Shelter for me any longer. Like it or not, I was one of them; a Shadowlander, a monster.
I pushed down the panic and followed Avery. We walked through the rapidly deteriorating streets of what had once been humanity’s home.
We’d barely travelled a few metres when a scream ripped through the silence.
Avery halted, his head cocked.
I paused and scanned the landscape ahead. The moonlight was bright enough for me to make out the broken carcass of a long, low building, with what used to be a playground to its left, home to a twisted swing set and caved-in slide, and behind that there was a mass of inky darkness, twisting, and swirling.
A Shadow!
The scream came again, more of an angry exclamation than a scream of terror. The Shadow had someone in its grip.
“Clay!” It had to be. My heart soared with hope as I ran toward the mass. I could save him! I’d found him.
I didn’t stop until I was plunging into the Shadow. Through the darkness I caught the glimpse of a thrashing form. I couldn’t see him properly, but that wouldn’t last. The need was already rising, the hunger taking over. I raised my arms and windmilled them, wrapping the Shadows around them like ribbons, and began to feed.
Feed. It was the only word to describe what I did, what it felt like. There was an insatiable cavern inside me that only the dark could fill. The Shadow fought, but only for a moment. They never fought too long. It relinquished its grip on its prey and sank into me.
I fell to my knees, chest heaving, head buz
“Ash, is that you?”
My head snapped up. “Ryder?” My heart sank. “Where’s Clay?”
Ryder’s face crumpled in sympathy. “You thought I was... I’m sorry.”
“You were with him, right? Where is he?”
Ryder pulled himself up, his knees trembled, and I caught him before he could collapse.
Avery joined us. “You know this human?”
I nodded. “Ryder? What happened to Clay?” I couldn’t keep the panic out of my voice.
“There were these creatures chasing us and then this other creature flew down, it burned the ground creatures to cinder, and Clay—he got on its back. It flew off with him.”
“Sounds like a dragon.” Avery frowned. “But what is a dragon doing this far from its keep?” He sighed. “No matter, we should get you back to Apocalypse. Cal can look you over and make sure there isn’t any lasting damage from the Shadow attack.”
Ryder shook me off, his blazing eyes fixed on Avery. “I’m not going anywhere with you, and I’m not being looked over by a Shadowlander.”
Avery’s eyes narrowed as he assessed Ryder. “Maybe I was mistaken. You seem to have recovered remarkably. As for not coming with us, well, you’re more than welcome to take your chances out here.” He looked down at me. “Ash, shall we?”
Ryder’s eyes widened. “What the hell? You’re going to go with this... thing?”
Now, I didn’t have the warm fuzzies when it came to Avery, but like it or not, I was more like him than I was like Ryder. The disgust in his eyes could have been aimed at me.
I couldn’t help the sharpness of my tone when I responded. “He’s not a thing, He’s a Shadowlander and, if you want to live, you’ll come with us.” I turned my back on him and began to walk away.
Avery was quick to join me and, after a few moments, so did Ryder.
CLAY
The tower was lit with a weak spattering of anaemic moonlight. It was a grey monolithic beast, silent and watching. It definitely felt like there were eyes within it, or even on it, watching everything with a terrific range.
“Shall we stop here?” Clay asked his…companion? His mount? He wasn’t sure yet how to refer to his new acquaintance.
The flying creature with dark green scales and amber eyes—his companion for the past week helping him look for Ash—chuffed and made her descent.
A whole week of searching had resulted in a whole load of nothing. The Shadowlands sometimes looked the same, or were the same, or became something else within the blink of an eye—before Clay could finish fully exploring the area he was in. He had been all over, clocking no trace of Ash and having no idea which direction he’d headed. North? South? East? West? They seemed to have no meaning here. But he wouldn’t give up. His sister was out here somewhere and he was determined to find her, hug her, shout at her for making him think she was dead, and then hug her some more.
The creature landed with grace on a bridge over darkness. Clay slid off her back and noticed something by his feet on the dusty road. He bent down and scooped up the white object. It was a sign made of metal, battered some, with black and red writing. ‘The Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea’ it said in red, with ‘GOLBORNE ROAD’ in black letters, and next to that ‘W.10’ in more red.
He’d seen these kinds of signs in Ash’s books and magazines. They were street signs for the city called London from before the veil had fallen.
“So, Golborne Road, eh?” Clay asked the creature.
She sniffed the air.
There was a suffocating density to the air in this part of the Shadowlands, a scent of smoke. It filtered into his lungs, leaving behind a slight achy sensation in his chest.
He returned the sign to where it had sat, careful not to make too much noise. Metal clanged. Clay was conscious of the tower and its hidden eyes. He didn’t want to, but he knew that it was somewhere he’d have to venture. Every time he’d looked inside buildings, his stomach had been close to leaping out of his mouth—especially when they were deathly quiet places where even the slightest noise would scare the crap out of him, or the shadows would move, slithering across walls and he’d have to run or shine his LED torch at them, or his trusty creature would spew some fire at them to send them on their way. He hated those damn Shadows that made his skin crawl. Just like the tower, the Shadows had eyes of their own that were always sizing him up.
He shuddered. Find Ash and go home. That was the objective. And the fire-breathing-beast? Well, he was sure they could accommodate such a helpful creature. Blake and the rest of the council would just have to deal with it.
Blake. The name evoked a stabbing sensation in his chest. He missed him so much, but his fury was just as intense. Ash had done an Ash—act first and think later—and Clay was mad at her for it. Super mad! She’d crossed a line. But Blake had broken Clay’s trust, had gone through the whole funeral and ceremony and let him be broken hearted thinking his sister was gone. For that, for that…he didn’t know. All he knew was that he was pissed off to the max.
And broken hearted…
He sighed and prayed to the Mother that Ryder was okay. Leaving him behind like that was kind of shitty, but he’d, well, he guessed he’d done an Ash.
Thinking time was over. He checked that his penknife was still in his pocket—a gift from Ash, a treasure she’d found in the cusp. She’d even had it engraved for him. ‘Best Big Bro’ it said. He’d almost lost it in the last area when cutting through some tarpaulin, only to find a skeleton and a deep-looking well. A spider had crawled from one of the eye sockets of the poor dead human’s skull, startling Clay, and bringing on a case of the butter fingers, causing him to almost drop it.
Clay gave the penknife a squeeze and returned it to the Velcro pocket of his grimy grey trousers. He had to think of how best to do this. The landscape around him was a collection of ruins and burned out vehicles; the remains of someplace that had once been called Golborne Road.
He pulled himself up on to the half-moon-shaped rusted barriers of the metal bridge to look over into the darkness below.
Hesitantly, he called, “Ash?” His voice was swallowed by the dark.
No Ash. He didn’t think she would be there, but he had to try.
He had two choices. The first was to get the creature to fly him to the top of the tower, which looked more and more like a gathering of homes, and try to work his way down it. If it was comprised of loads of homes, then he would have to check them all. The other option was to start from the bottom and work his way up.
Tucked into his trousers was a crowbar he’d found. He’d tried to clean the blood from the grey metal, but some still stained it. He’d had beat a three-legged creature, complete with one red eye and tentacles, to death with it. The instrument still echoed with every blow he’d made, the sensation of spraying blood still on his skin. He’d never had to do anything like that. He was a fixer, not a breaker. But in this case, he’d had no choice. It was kill or be killed. The crowbar had saved his life, otherwise...
Head from shoulders, the thing picking its fangs with my spine…
Clay drew a breath and made up his mind.
“Could you fly me up there, please?” He pointed at the tower.
The creature’s amber eyes bore into him, considering. Though it didn’t speak, a sharp intelligence radiated from her. He had asked if it was a boy or a girl on their first day together, and she’d responded with a reaction to girl, so girl she was.
Clay was still pondering suggesting a name to her.
“I’d like to look inside,” Clay said.
The creature snorted. A wisp of smoke curled up from one of her large nostrils. Her ability to breathe fire had been very handy and, if he were totally honest, rather cool.
“Please,” Clay said. “My sister could be in there.”
The creature gazed up at the tower and growled.
“I know,” Clay said. “I completely agree. But I have to know if my sister is there.”
There was a very strong chance she wasn’t. Scratch that, the probability of Ash being in the tower was firmly in the ‘nope’ category. However, despite knowing his twin was averse to hiding in towers, she also wasn’t stupid. Maybe events had forced her inside. Maybe something had forced her inside. He didn’t know what was in this area, what was lurking in the shadows, or if Shadows themselves were lurking.
