A Shadow's Tale (6 page)

He came late one night. Arellan was just tucking me into bed when he knocked on the door. She ruffled my hair, saying that it was probably just Armen coming back without his keys. I giggled quietly, snuggling down under the blankets with the cuddly wolf toy Arellan had made for me. I listened to her start to walk down the stairs. It felt as if an icy hand had touched the base of my spine. Something was wrong. Something very wrong. I slipped out of bed, following Arellan. I paused at the top of the stairs, watching her cross the floor towards the door. I watched her open it. Her scream pierced the air. She slammed the door shut again.

‘Arellan!' I yelled, running down the stairs to her.

‘Alexai, you have to run. You have to get away. Far away from here, okay?' she said, bracing herself against the door as she slid the bolts home. I raced to her side, desperate for her reassurance. I could sense fear in her mind, hear the rapid beat of her heart, smell the cold sweat that had begun to break out over her skin.

‘What is happening, Arellan? Who was that?'

Arellan looked down at me, kneeling down and hugging me tightly, burying her face in my hair for a brief moment. She straightened up, holding my arms tightly as she looked at me. Only one word, one name escaped her lips: ‘Karthragan.'

Something thudded against the door again. He was losing patience fast. Black magic surrounded the wooden door, crushing it to charred splinters. Standing in the dark, red eyes gleaming, was the creature of my nightmares. Arellan took my face in her hands, resting her forehead briefly against mine before pushing me towards the back door, begging me to run, to hide, to get away from here. I crouched behind a dresser, terrified. Arellan turned to face him, preparing herself. I have never seen a sight so beautiful yet so terrifyingly lethal as Arellan readying herself for battle. Her magic created a whirlwind around her, lifting her black hair into a halo around her head, her robes twisting and writhing like some sort of living creature. I could feel the magic in the air, the dry and static feeling that put my hair on end. A fierce angel. A warrior angel. The Messenger Angel. But even her white magic wouldn't be a match for Karthragan's determination. I couldn't let her fight alone.

I raced back towards her, calling up my own black magic. I threw bolt after bolt at him. Nothing made any difference. Arellan begged me to flee. I couldn't. I couldn't leave her to face him alone. Not when I knew what he had done to her. What he had done so that he could continue the prophecy. I ducked a bolt of his magic, retaliating with one of my own. He then turned his attention fully to me, ignoring Arellan completely. I dodged another bolt. But I hadn't realised he had shot two. The second was so close. I couldn't move. My eyes were fixed with terror on a flash of light that could end my life. A blur of white masked my vision. A blur I recognised a heartbeat too late.

‘Arellan, no!' I screamed. Too late. She fell to the ground with a thud. A black scorch marred the front of her robes. I knelt beside her, shaking her shoulder. ‘Arellan? Arellan, please get up!' The room blurred as tears clouded my eyes. Why wouldn't she respond? Her blue eyes were staring at the ceiling, unseeing, uncaring. From somewhere far above me, Karthragan's cruel laughter echoed. Arellan's robes turned red. Anger boiled up
within me, surging through the dam that held my emotions back. I didn't care. I didn't care about anything. I didn't care about keeping my magic under control or not being noticed by the Senate. I cared for vengeance. Vengeance for my mother's death. Arellan, who had done nothing wrong. I straightened up. A growl scraped the back of my throat. Karthragan raised a hand to strike.

‘You are no match for me, Wolf. Tonight, the prophecy ends.'

Unleashing a feral snarl, I leapt at him. Black magic gathered behind him, forming a black disc in the air as I barrelled him backwards. The portal closed, sealing him on the other side. I blinked until my vision returned to normal, kneeling beside Arellan.

‘Arellan? Please, Arellan, wake up!' I begged, shaking her shoulder. Her head rolled limply to the side. With my vision blurring again, I crawled under her arm, snuggling up to her body. Beneath my cheek, her robes grew wet as her icy hand cradled me to her.

Sometime later, Armen burst into the house. He scooped me up into his arms, running back out into the streets. I screamed, clawing at him to let me go back to Arellan's side. The shoulder of his robes tore beneath my claw-like nails, but it didn't deter him, not even as his blood began to drip down to stain the shredded cloth. He strode into the stables, not stopping until we reached Merlas's stall. The doe shot to her hooves, nuzzling my hair.

‘What has happened, little one?' she asked in deep concern. I said nothing, clinging onto her mane as I tried to breathe through my sobs. Armen threw the saddle over Merlas's back, quickly doing up the straps. Disentangling my hand from her mane, he hoisted me up onto the doe, grabbing the guidance loop and running out into the field.

‘Shadow, it's time for you to leave. To go to that other
dimension. Now that Arellan is gone, you will have no one to protect you from the Senate. You will be blamed for her death. So run. Run as fast as you can. Stay close to Merlas and she will protect you.' He slung a satchel across my torso, reaching up to hug me one last time as he whispered a quick blessing of good luck. Pulling back, he slapped Merlas on the rump, sending her forward in a full gallop before the jarring transition to flight. In a single flash of light, she flew through a different night's sky.

* * *

We hid in a cave for several days, the walls soon turning a charred black as I released wave after wave of magic in my grief. Merlas attempted to get me to eat during these times, bringing me her fresh kill and fruit she had found. I rejected each notion forcefully, throwing the food back at her. Often, she threatened to leave and not come back, but she never did. She would fly off in a huff before returning and tucking me under a wing while I cried myself to sleep.

A week passed before I opened the bag Armen had given me. I found a book of magic he had put together for me, Arellan's brooch and some sort of small booklet with a picture of me and details I didn't understand. A note in Armen's careful, spiked handwriting called it a ‘passport'. It would allow me to start my life here, and it was time for me to start living again. Merlas agreed. Using a spell from the book, I cloaked Merlas's wings so that she could pass as one of the wingless ‘horses' of this dimension. She dropped down onto her knees so that I could scramble up onto her back. Standing up again, she shook herself energetically, raising a cloud of dust from her coat. I grabbed onto her mane.

‘Please don't do that,' I gasped. Merlas snickered quietly to herself, walking forwards at my command.

We found ourselves in a town not far away from where we had been hiding. People stopped to stare as we walked through the streets. I touched the pendant that had been in Armen's bag, a nugget of silver enveloped in bronze. It kept my magic in control without causing me pain while also casting an illusion to make me appear human, turning my purple hair black and my eyes blue. Hopefully, it would be enough to fool the humans. Strange metal things that I had read to be ‘cars' rushed past. Merlas shied away from them, starting to prance, rearing slightly. I gripped the guidance loop tightly, trying to stay calm for her sake. I tugged on her mane twice, signalling to her to put our plan into action. There was no way I could just go up to the City Guard and present myself. Armen had suggested in the letter that we stage an accident. The City Guard would be more accommodating of any questions I couldn't answer if I appeared to be in a state of shock.

Merlas acted perfectly. A car roared past her at some speed. She squealed, rearing and pawing at the air. I screamed, clutching at her mane. People began to fuss around us. A couple of humans trying to grab hold of Merlas, but she danced out of her grasp. Her front hooves touched the ground only long enough for her to charge forwards, bucking madly. I screamed again, letting myself slide from her back.

The ground seemed infinitely softer from atop Merlas than landing on it. The black coating on it was as hard as a rock. I whimpered from my heap under my cloak where I had landed. Humans swarmed around me, asking if I was okay. Someone managed to catch Merlas, or rather she allowed someone to catch her. A man in a blue uniform crouched over me.

‘Hey there, are you okay?' I looked up at the man, a human male, blinking a couple of times as I tried to refocus my mind. The fall had shaken me more than I had anticipated.

I didn't need to pretend to appear unfocused as I asked the question most likely to be the first to cross a person's mind.

‘What happened?' I murmured.

‘You fell off your horse. Don't worry, we've got her. Come on, let's get you checked out at the hospital.' A team of people with a stretcher moved all of the humans out of the way before helping me onto it. I had to admit that I hurt all over. My back was killing me. I made a mental note to remember to check the surface of any ground I was planning to landing on.

The healer shone a bright light into my eyes. I flinched away, squeezing my eyelids shut to stop the glare hurting, trying not to growl at him. Someone had taken away my cloak and clothes, replacing them with a flimsy, backwards robe sort of thing that was open at the back. It was highly uncomfortable as well as being undignified. I lay on a bed with railings around the edge, being examined by these people for injuries. I heard some muffled swearing as one of the healers ran a hand over the scars on my back, remnants of Meran's actions and my rigorous training. The healer withdrew from the small, curtained cubicle I was in to talk to someone else. I strained my ears to listen to their hushed conversation.

‘Apart from a few bruises and a very minor concussion, there seems to be nothing wrong with the girl, she just won't, or can't, tell us who or where her parents are, nor where they live. Social services have done a check on her name, but they couldn't find much in the way of information. No school records, no medical records, just a birth certificate with both parents listed as ‘unknown'.'

‘What do you think caused those scars on her back?'

‘We can only guess. The child isn't very forthcoming with information. Hardly surprising, she's still in shock. My guess is that she has been abused somehow. It would also explain how she came to be on a horse in the middle of Forfar.'

‘Fear would certainly give a child enough confidence to get on a horse far too big for her in order to flee.'

‘What do we do now?'

‘I guess we hand her over to a children's home. Not much we can do for her.'

 

I hit the wooden floor of the children's home with a resounding thud. My cheek stung from the hit Stone had delivered. I glared up at him through the curtain of black hair that fell over my face. My skin burned under my fingers as I touched the reddening flesh. Eight years, I had put up with this. Eight whole years to the day since Arellan died. Eight years since my world was turned upside down by the dimension transfer. I ran my fingers over the pendant in the shape of an angel that I had never taken off since the day the police had found me. A last gift from the people who had cared for me even though I was not even worth the dirt on the bottom of their shoes. And though no one in this dimension knew who I really was, I was still no better than the lowest of the low. A child no one wanted. A nothing.

Stone stood over me, fists clenched, daring me to get up. Normally, I would have stayed down and accepted it. But not today. Today I fought. I scrambled to my feet, launching a punch of my own. My fist hit his nose, blood spurting onto my hand, the cartilage giving way easily under the impact. His eyes narrowed. The fight was on. His cronies backed off as we circled each other. Demoness against human. Son of Man against daughter of Evil. They didn't know that, but I did. That's all that mattered. I would not back down from this fight. Memories of sparring with Armen surged through my mind. The moves, the grace, the fluidity as each punch and kick flowed into another. The other children gathered in a wide circle, egging us on. More specifically, egging
Stone
on. They knew that whoever won, if they didn't support Stone, their lives were going to be miserable for a long time. My nails scraped his cheek, leaving three bloody scratches. His foot
collided with my stomach, winding me. I launched myself at him with a renewed anger, screaming in Synari, not caring about the pain in my gut. All I cared about was winning this fight, proving myself to be just as good as they were. The housemothers broke through the circle of children, grabbing at Stone and me, dragging us off each other. I still screamed, fighting against their hold.

They hauled me away, throwing me through a door into a tiny room. The time-out closet. Didn't I know it well. There were two such closets in the home, for children who got a little out of hand and needed to cool down. I had managed to go a whole year without having to be shut in one, and with good reason. No one wanted to be stuck in there. The room was about a metre squared. The door only opened from the outside. The floor and walls were hard. There was no way out. I leant my back against the wall, letting myself slide down until I was sitting on the floor. Wiping my bloody nose on my sleeve, I hugged my knees to my chest and I rested my head against my arms, toying with a lock of black hair. I kind of missed having purple hair. It defined who I was, but I didn't dare take the necklace off in case my magic went haywire, or someone walked in. Sighing heavily, I started to use one of the breathing techniques Arellan had taught me. My anger began to drain away, leaving the strange feeling of heartache I always experienced when I thought of my mother. Curling up tighter on myself, I let my mind wander back to those few weeks I had spent with my mother, getting to know her, learning from her, imagining what it would be like to still be with her. Losing myself in this land of make believe, I waited until the housemothers came to let me out.

Time passes strangely in the closet. If I didn't know better, I would have thought it to be another dimension. When a housemother finally let me out, I was sure I must have spent a day in there. It had only been two hours. She led me up to the top floor
of the home, to the director's office. I caught sight of myself in a mirror as we walked up the stairs. What a sight. Although I was supposedly thirteen, I had the appearance of a girl in her late teens. An early developer. Thankfully, my growth was slowing down now. My hair was a mess of locks escaping from its plait, the sleeve of my shirt ripped. Half of my face was red from Stone's slaps, my nose had streaked blood down my jaw. I clenched my teeth as my eyes caught sight of the pale, prominent, half circle scar around my right eye. It sickened me as I remembered my father and all he had done. Of what he had taken from me. Raising my chin slightly, I promised myself that whatever happened, if he ever came for me again, I would be ready, and I would fight him. I would fight him to the death if necessary, to make him pay for taking Arellan's life.

I sat opposite the director. He watched me over his clasped hands. He wasn't saying anything yet, but I knew this tactic. If he waited long enough, the child would blurt out apologies and guilt. I knew the game so well. He had used it often enough on me in an attempt to make me rethink my attitude. I refused to back down, catching his eye and keeping it with a flat glare. He gave in with a deep sigh, pulling off his reading glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. Another of his little tricks, an attempt to make the child in front of him feel sorry for him and hopefully apologise. The sigh conveyed everything I knew he thought of me. He had had enough of my attitude, of my fighting and of my ‘strange ways'. Personally, I couldn't care less what he thought of me.

‘What are we going to do with you, Alexai?' he asked in grave concern. I narrowed my eyes at his continued usage of a name I never wanted to hear again unless it was from Arellan's lips. For some reason, he insisted on using it. If it had been one of the other children in the home, I would have punched them, but I couldn't exactly do that to the director. ‘You put every family interested in you off by your glaring and your attitude. I have
had numerous reports from the school about you fighting. You even tried to attack the psychologist! This is not normal, Alexai. We've put up with a lot of behavioural difficulties from you since you came to this home. Your attacking everyone who didn't call you ‘Shadow', your insults to the police force when they came to tell you that your horse was missing, your tantrums every time someone tries to talk to you about your mother, even your flippant attitude about your life. Now your fight with Stone. What is wrong with you?' His last sentence came with such force that I flinched. There was no way I could tell him the truth. If I did, I'd end up in a mental ward, for a start. The humans didn't really believe in demons or, indeed, much that didn't have anything to do with everyday life. They were perfectly content to live in their little world of things that made sense and not think about anything else. I was trying to come up with a decent answer when someone knocked on the door. Another housemother poked her head round.

‘Dr Chase? There's someone here to see Alexai.'

‘If they're looking for adoption…'

‘No, sir, they asked for her specifically. He says he's a teacher at the Academy and he wants to talk to her.'

I felt my mouth flop open in uncharacteristic shock. The director sucked his breath in sharply. The Academy? Every parent dreamed of the Academy. It was one of the most prestigious and select schools in Europe. They monitored every single child in the schooling system and only accepted the best. Why would they want to talk to me though? There was no way my school results or the comments from my teachers would warrant their attention. So what did they want with me?

I warily pushed open the door into the meeting room set aside for prospective parents to talk to their prospective adoptee in private. A young man sat at the table, the picture of a representative from a snobby school. Brown hair carefully combed,
glasses perched on his nose, suit pressed until the deliberate creases down the side of the leg had been ironed into submission. I was glad I had taken a couple of minutes to change my shirt and wash my face. My hair, on the other hand, had refused to be tamed. I knocked on the door a little timidly before walking in. Uh oh. I recognised the thick yellowish file he was going through. My file. Everything that had happened since my admission to the home.

‘Good afternoon, Shadow, as I believe you prefer to be called.'

‘Yes, sir,' I replied quietly. I had to be on my best behaviour here. This was a chance to get out of the home, and I wasn't about to let it slip through my fingers, especially since this man seemed to accept the fact that I didn't use my Synari name any more.

‘Sit down.'

I took a seat opposite him, trying not to look at the papers he had taken out of my file. They didn't look good. In fact, my psychological reports read like a nightmare, especially after I had attacked one of the psychiatrists. The sessions had pretty much gone downhill from there. The man set the file aside, looking at me over the tops of his glasses. For a moment, he simply surveyed me, then he started to speak: ‘My name is Alexander Heath, professor of magical manipulation and recruiter for the Academy.'

‘Pardon?' I asked, unable to believe my ears. A professor of magical manipulation? He had to be pulling my leg. There was no way anyone could know! Professor Heath chuckled to himself, obviously amused by my expression of disbelief.

‘You heard me right, Shadow. We know what you are. That's why I have come to offer you a place at the Academy. We select our students very carefully, not for academic results, but because they are not quite human. We teach them to blend in with normal society while also giving them the academic tuition they need to go out into the human world and get a decent job. The spiel about being an elitist school is simply a cover story.' My hand automatically
went to my pendant, making sure it was still there.

‘Don't worry, the illusions work on humans. I have a gift called True Sight. I can see who you really are. That's why I'm a recruiter. Think about it, Shadow. Would you rather stay here and be shuttled around the children's home system until you turn sixteen, or would you rather have a formal education at the Academy, with other people like you?'

I didn't have to think about my answer. It was staring me in the face.

It didn't take me long to pack. Professor Heath was going to take me to the Academy right away. I hadn't gathered much in the way of possessions other than what I had to start with. My spell book, Armen's letter, the toy wolf Arellan had made for me and my clothes. It all fitted in one bag. I got into the car, looking out of the window to take in the home one last time. I felt no regret at leaving it, and the sorry beginnings of my life on Earth, far behind.

The drive to the Academy was long and uneventful. Professor Heath wasn't the most talkative of companions, but it didn't bother me. I was still trying to get over the shock that the Academy was actually a school for mythical creatures. As we neared the Academy, I perked up, wondering what the school would look like. How would the people there accept me? Would it be just like the haven I imagined when I needed to escape, a place of acceptance and joy, or would they shun me and keep me hidden like the Synari had done, scared of what I could do?

The gates were black iron and imposing, the walls high and thick, but the grounds inside were a boarding school director's wet dream. Ancient trees lined the long driveway, giving way to extensive grassland. On one side, the grass had been separated into paddocks where horses and ponies grazed. The other side was dotted with students in uniform. All the boys in their smart black trousers and blazers, the girls in perfect skirts and ties. I
sank a little lower in my seat. Nerves were starting to kick in. What if the others rejected me? The driveway opened out into a circle with a huge pine tree in the centre. A sprawling mansion filled my vision as we pulled up. The main building itself was impressive, even without being flanked by two wings that were longer, but not as high as the house. I grabbed my bag, slipping out of the car and looking around nervously. The other kids were staring. They looked normal, until you looked a little closer. A hint of scale, strangely coloured eyes, and a woman with
wings
walking towards me. I bit my lip. Walking behind the woman was a sight I was delighted to see. Head bobbing as she walked, wings visible and tucked into her sides, Merlas paused long enough to whinny loudly.

‘Merlas!' I yelled, running forwards to throw my arms around her neck. I had grown since I last saw her, now reaching halfway up her shoulder. Standing at one metre eighty, I wasn't likely to grow any more. She still bested me for height though, standing at an even two metres. I didn't mind. It meant I'd never outgrow her. The winged woman coughed politely. I felt my face turn red, turning to look at her, realising that I hadn't even acknowledged her presence. So much for trying to be polite.

‘I'm sorry,' I said apologetically, ‘I haven't seen her for years.'

She waved off my apology with a lazy flick of her hand. ‘My name is Meredith Featherstone. I'm the headmistress of the school. Now, the tradition here is that you are assigned a student similar to your own age to explain the rules. We found that it gives the new students a better insight into how we work, so I'll let him give you the introductory speech. Follow me, let's go and save your guide from class. I'm sure he won't complain.'

I followed Miss Featherstone into the main building, into a place that looked as if it had been furnished from a couple of centuries before. I was surprised that they managed to keep so many antiques here and in impeccable condition with scores of teenage mythical creatures learning to control themselves. Miss
Featherstone swept up the central staircase up to the third floor, along corridors I was sure rivalled those in Aspheri. I would never learn my way around here! She knocked on a door, pushing it open. A classroom, with a nervous looking boy standing at the front holding a pile of notes, obviously about to give a presentation on something.

‘Mr Carton's charge has arrived.' The boy at the front of the class looked relieved, racing to pack up his notes and shoot out of the classroom. I took a good look at him. Floppy brown hair fell into dark eyes as he grinned at me. He looked to be an energetic, playful kind of person, the kind that all the girls fawned after in school. In what was now my previous school, I might have been among those girls that adored the cute guy, but none of them had ever given me the time of day. No one had wanted to be associated with the weird girl from the home.