Authors: Joshua Khan
Everything he said was true. There had been times he’d been more of a father than her real one.
How can I kill my own kin? How can I do something so evil? So unnatural?
Because I am Lady Shadow.
She had to remind herself. Lady Shadow. Ruler of Castle Gloom.
She had to show them she was strong. That no one was above the law. That she would dispense justice to both the great and small.
Lily slipped her hand from Pan’s. “Tyburn?”
The executioner glanced down at the Traitor’s Pillow. “On your knees, m’lord.” He spoke quietly, plainly. There was no joy or triumph in his voice. He was the executioner and this was his job, no more, no less. How Lily envied him. She was the one who had to decide who lived or died. All the guilt was hers.
Pan knelt down. “Here?”
Tyburn nodded. “Rest your cheek against the stone. Stretch your hands out on either side to steady yourself.”
Lily couldn’t breathe. She could imagine the cold granite against her cheek, as if it was her lying there.
After his death, then what? Would she summon his ghost one day, like she had summoned Custard?
Pan put his head down. “Like…like this?” He sounded like a small child, unsure of the simplest things. Pan gripped the stone until his fingers went white. “I’m so sorry.”
Tyburn lifted the ax. “Close your eyes, m’lord. If you want.”
Pan squeezed them shut.
“M’lady?” asked Tyburn.
He has to die. He killed my father, mother, and brother. He killed poor Rose.
The other great lords will fear me all the more if I execute him. They will be reluctant to raise their hands against me, because, if I can do this to ones I love, what horrors would
they
suffer?
All of this, with the simple swing of an ax.
Given such a choice, would any other ruler hesitate? Would Duke Solar? Of course not. Not for a second.
And that was reason enough.
“Wait.”
She met Tyburn’s questioning eyes. Lily shook her head, and he lowered the blade.
“Stand up, Uncle.”
Knees wobbling, Pan got to his feet. He stood there, cringing. “What’s going on?”
“Run,” said Lily. “Run far away.”
“You’re…letting me live?”
“Live? I suppose so,” she said. “You’re a traitor, Uncle. Everyone in the New Kingdoms knows it. Who will shelter a traitor? Everywhere you go you’ll be despised, spat upon. If that’s living, then, yes, I’m letting you live.”
Barefoot, dressed in his thin shift, Pan shuffled away from the Traitor’s Pillow, looking back to say, “Thank you, Lily. Thank you.”
“I didn’t do it for you.” Lily pointed into Spindlewood. “Run and never come back.”
Pan nodded. He stumbled over the roots and sharp stones, then he ran, frantic to get away from the hill. The bats launched themselves after him, their shrieks mocking his cowardice. Then they and Pan were lost in the mist, their cries the last thing trailing behind them.
It’s over.
A weight rose off Lily’s shoulders as Pan disappeared. “Did I do wrong, Tyburn? Should I have executed him?”
Tyburn rested the ax on his shoulder. “That all depends on what sort of ruler you wish to be, m’lady.”
M
ary unlocked the doors into the Eclipse chambers. Lily stood beside her with the red ledger under her arm.
“I don’t see why I have to do this,” said Lily.
“K’leef was your guest, that’s why,” said Mary. “And his father has asked for his things to be returned.”
The rooms hadn’t been entered since K’leef’s arrest. Now her friend was back home, and they’d received a letter from the sultan thanking them for saving his son. The letter had come with a gift, a ruby the size of Lily’s fist.
“I’ll collect K’leef’s belongings, and you tick them off.” Mary opened up the first chest and sighed as she stared at the pile of silks. “This could take a while.”
Mary called out the number of shirts, the number of boots and cloaks and tunics and gloves, and Lily steadily crossed them off. Then came the jewelry. Mary opened up K’leef’s box of rings. “Right…” She picked them out and spread them over the table. “Sixteen rings. All amber.”
“Says seventeen here.” Then Lily remembered. The seventeenth was the hollowed ring they’d found in the pond. The ring that had contained the poison. “Pan swore he wasn’t behind the poisoning.”
Mary hesitated. “I wouldn’t listen to anything that traitor has to say. I still don’t know why you let him live.”
“He said he only did evil things when he wore the mask. He didn’t have it anywhere near him on the night of the feast.”
“Lily, what’s the point of this?” Mary poured the rings back in the box.
“And how did Pan know K’leef’s ring had poison in it?” continued Lily. “It doesn’t make sense. He would have had to search every ring, check them. They were all up in this room, and you’re the only one with the keys.”
Mary cleared her throat. “Right. Now, the bracelets. There are four gold ones….”
Lily put the quill down. “You checked them, didn’t you? It’s your job.”
Mary arranged the rooms and listed all the belongings.
All
of them. It was all up to her. Lily looked at her first and oldest friend. “That day he arrived. I told you to put him in the Eclipse rooms.”
Mary faced her. “I…”
Lily shook her head, trying to rid herself of the idea forming in there. No, it wasn’t possible. But the thought refused to dissipate. There were two people with access to K’leef’s belongings. K’leef himself, and the person with the keys to each and every room in the castle. Mary. Lily trusted her. Everyone trusted Mary.
“So you counted out the rings and all the jewelry, like you always do. If anything went missing, it would be up to you. How did you know?” Lily held Mary’s hand. She couldn’t help but notice how clammy it was.
“That K’leef’s ring was hollow? That it had poison in it? Oh, grow up, Lily.”
“So you took the poison and poured it into Gabriel’s cup. Didn’t you?”
Mary tried to back away, but Lily held her.
“Lily…”
“Didn’t you?”
Mary broke free. She stumbled against the table, knocking over the jewelry box. The rings scattered everywhere.
“Why, Mary?”
Mary’s jaw hardened. “Why? Why do you think? You lost your parents, your brother, and you think that’s the greatest pain a person can ever suffer. You’re wrong. You don’t know what pain is until you’ve lost a child. My sons, they were just boys with stupid dreams of being heroes. They should have been catching fish and chasing girls, but instead they went to war and never came back.” She sat down. “I wanted the duke to taste the same pain I felt, what it was like to lose a child. I saw the ring, I knew what was in it. Do you not think your father and mother had similar rings? Of course they did. I poured some poison into a paper fold and carried it with me but left the ring here. I swear I didn’t know what I was going to do with it until I saw Gabriel at the feast. How could I let my sweet girl marry a monster like that? You’re a daughter to me, Lily. You’re all I have. I didn’t use very much. Just enough to make Gabriel sick. That’s all.”
Lily stood there, eyes closed. “You almost started a war, Mary.”
“I’m sorry, Lily. I’m truly sorry.” Mary looked about her, frightened. “What…what will you do?”
What
could
she do? If she admitted it to anyone, Mary’s life was forfeited. She’d lost so many members of her family already; she couldn’t lose another.
Instead, Lily put her finger to her lips.
Mary nodded and smiled widely with relief. She moved to embrace Lily. “Thank you, my girl, thank—”
“You forget your place,
servant
.”
Mary curtseyed so very low. Her voice cracked as she spoke. “Forgive me, Lady Shadow.”
Lily turned her back on her. Her heart ached more than ever.
Lily put the Skeleton Key in the lock. The doors groaned open.
Custard barked and ran in.
Candles spluttered to life and gradually light spread across the Shadow Library.
She walked up to the table in the center of the main chamber. Custard sniffed a stack of scrolls, his small black nose wrinkling with suspicion. He bit at one, but his phantom jaws went straight through it. He looked at it, momentarily surprised, then gave a little puppy shrug and dashed off, his high-pitched yaps echoing down one of the many passageways.
A book slid off a shelf and floated across the room. It settled itself upon the table in front of her.
A figure appeared in the space between the darkness and the light.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Father,” said Lily. “You don’t mind Custard, do you?”
“He is good company.” The ghost smiled. “For our first lesson in magic we shall study Dagon Shadow, one of our family’s greatest necromancers.” He touched the spell book, and the pages flapped open. “Let us begin….”
Phew. Writing’s a lot of work. I wouldn’t say it’s hard—it’s the best job in the world and even the worst day of writing is pretty great, but it does take a lot of effort.
And help.
Many people helped me create the world of
Shadow Magic
. They gave me their time, their devotion, and their love, which is needed by each and every writer, especially during those moments at the desk when the screen’s blank and you just don’t know if you should have given up the day job.
Huge thanks to Ruth and Alison. I needed to put them first as they have worked hardest. Harder than me. This book, whatever quality it has, is all down to their endless patience and enthusiasm. I just hope they remain equally keen when I send them the sequel.
Next is my wife, Rachel. She tells it to me straight, and the work I do is inspired by her—always has been and always will be. She is the reason I became a writer.
I have to thank my girls. They’ve been along every step of the way, reading chapters hot off the printer, helping develop the characters, and also giving the series its title. It has been a true family effort, and I hope they’re not sick of me constantly asking them for opinions about everything. Because I’m going to ask for plenty more.
My passion for fantasy and reading was nurtured by my family, so I will be forever thankful to my parents and sisters for sharing that passion.
I have to acknowledge the huge effort of Sarah Davies, my epic agent of the equally epic Greenhouse Literary Agency. She’s tough, but fair. As an agent should be.
I must mention the awesome Disney Hyperion gang. It’s my home, and I couldn’t have asked for a better one. Dina Sherman is the very first person I ever pitched
Shadow Magic
to, and she gave me hope that it could be something special and strange, in a good way. One person I cannot thank enough is my editor, Stephanie Lurie. I’ve wanted to work with her from the moment I put pen to paper. Now I do, and it really is rather excellent.
I save my biggest thanks to the readers, old and new, be they schoolchildren, booksellers (especially George, Jen, and Nell, all early fans of Lily, Thorn, and Hades), librarians, bloggers, or reviewers. Writing’s a funny old business, but it’s home to some of the best people I know. Long may that continue!
JOSHUA KHAN
was born in Britain, a land filled with ancient castles, dark forests, and tales of legendary heroes and fantastical monsters. He can tell you who King Arthur fought on Baden Hill but can’t tell you what he himself had for breakfast.