Shadows in the Silence (6 page)

She smiled at Cadan and me with bright eyes and flushed cheeks. “Cadan.” She greeted him warmly and pulled him into a one-armed hug with a kiss on his cheek.

“Hey, now,” Judah said, the amusement in his voice passing through his frown. “Don’t make me arm-wrestle the boy for my honor back.”

Grace rolled her eyes and moved away from them both. “That would be unwise, dear. Who’s your girl? You’re a vision, darlin’. Are you like him?” She gestured to Cadan, but gave a smile with it.

“She’s nothing like me,” Cadan interjected gently, his gaze avoiding mine.

“Not a reaper,” Grace surmised. “Just a lucky girl, then. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Ellie,” I told her.

“How’d you two meet?”

Cadan opened his mouth to speak again, but Judah was quicker. “Grace.”

She seemed to understand the tone of his voice and took it no further. She grabbed a sandwich for each of us and poured two glasses of sweet iced tea and placed them on the round kitchen table. Again, as I inhaled the sandwich and tea, I was left wondering what exactly this couple knew about Cadan and me. I feared saying anything at all.

“All finished?” Grace asked with a smile.

Cadan sat back in his chair and exhaled. “That was delicious, as always. Thank you so much.”

She took both our plates to the sink. “Why don’t you come with me and we’ll make sure your packs are all ready? I double-checked the tent and it has no holes, but we’ll see how many blankets you’ll need. Remind me to grab the grain bags for the horses.”

She beckoned to Cadan and he followed her from the
kitchen. Then it was just Judah and me. One corner of the old cowboy’s mouth curved into a knowing smile beneath his scruffy mustache.

“Grace makes the best pulled pork in Colorado,” he said. “Pretty sure that’s why he keeps comin’ back here.”

I studied his face carefully. “You know he’s a reaper?”

“I do,” Judah replied, taking in a long breath.

“And you know what it means for him to be what he is?”

“I know he looks pretty darn good for his age.”

“Do you know the difference between a demonic reaper and an angelic reaper?”

“I know the difference between a good man and a bad one,” he replied. “No one’s perfect, and that boy wears his heart on his sleeve. I am also an imperfect man. Who am I to judge someone else based on where they come from? What counts is what that man does with his life and for others.”

“I agree with you,” I said. “Did Cadan tell you who I am?”

Judah leaned forward and rested one arm on the table. “He did, but Grace don’ know. You seem surprised that I trust him, but I’m even more surprised that
you
trust him.”

“‘What counts is what a man does with his life and for others,’” I replied, repeating his own words. “And Cadan has earned my trust ten times over.”

“He’s not as lost as he used to be. I think he’s finally found the right trail.”

“Are you one of the psychics?” I asked. “Is that how you know him?”

Judah shook his head. “No. Cadan told me about them, though. No, I found him torn to pieces up the mountain one day, a
long
time ago. Thought a bear mauled him. Looked like he’d dragged himself a long way, but he was out cold when I came across him. I tossed him over my horse and rode back to the house. Grace helped me stop as much of the bleeding as we could, but even before we got him in the truck to drive him to the hospital, we noticed somethin’ was strange about that boy. Skin don’t just knit itself back together without a needle and thread. We didn’t know what to make of it. By the time he came to, he was almost completely healed, save for the brand-new scars all over his back. I guessed he must have had a hell of a day, barely surviving a bear attack
and
a fire. Grace is sick of my Smokey jokes, though, so I’ll spare you.”

“But it was a Grigori Lord,” I said.

“That’s what he called it too,” Judah continued. “We never learned about them in church. All that stuff’s in Enoch’s book and Pastor Jim don’ like that one. Anyway, that boy we found had a lot of explainin’ to do. After what we’d seen, it wasn’t too difficult to accept what he told us. He stayed here for a few weeks and didn’t seem to ever want to leave. He said the ones he would return to empty-handed would be very angry with him, and that no one like Grace and me would be there to make sure he heals safely.”

“So he told you everything?” I asked, wholly surprised. “About the reapers, about my role, and the angels and the Fallen?”

“Yep. He said the book he was lookin’ for up the mountain would be the thing that stops you in the end, you the killer of his kind. It’s been interestin’ over the years, watchin’ him linger and never age as I get old and tired. He’s changed a lot in other ways. He told me what the demonic reapers do to humans, but he’s never once harmed us and I believe him when he says he has only fought other reapers. I used to ask him, ‘Boy, why do you think that Prey-lee-what’s-it kills you reapers? There’s a reason why you don’ hunt humans. You think it’s wrong, and so does she. Don’ that make sense?’ So, I guess it did, ’cause now you’re sittin’ in my kitchen eatin’ my wife’s pulled pork sandwiches.”

I felt my eyes burn, but before any emotion broke through, footsteps sounded through the house. Cadan and Grace returned.

“Everything looks good,” Cadan said to me. “Are you about ready?”

I gave him a smile but I felt it tremble. “Yeah. Let’s go get the horses.”

We followed Judah out of the house and into the barn. The air smelled thickly of hay, and in the aisle were three tied-up horses. Two horses were being saddled with heavy Western gear while the third was already loaded with camping equipment and a couple extra bags.

“You’ll be on Peewee,” Judah said to me, and patted the fat belly of a cute bay mare with stockings. She turned her head to shove at his pockets for a treat. “Cadan, you take Savvy.”

“You’re letting me ride Savvy?” Cadan asked. “I’m honored, Judah. Thanks.”

“How long will we be out there?” I asked, peeking into a couple bags on the pack horse named Star and finding food and water. I scratched the horse’s furry face and moved on to give Cadan’s gray gelding a pat on the neck.

“Two days’ ride,” Cadan replied. “And hopefully two days back. We’ll camp comfortably, I promise.”

Instinctively, I wanted to crack a joke back at him about our differences in the definition of comfort, but as I slid my hand down the horse’s neck, the warm silk of its coat brought on another painful sting to my eyes. I remembered my dream with Will so vividly that when I closed my eyes for an instant, it was the coat of a white horse in France that I touched and not that of this big gray gelding named Savvy. Will had promised me months ago that he would take me riding someday. I was supposed to be with him right now and not with someone else.

“Are you okay?” Cadan was right beside me, his head dipped low and close to mine, the breath of his words against my hair.

I tried to look up at him, but a glance was all I could muster and I rested my cheek against the horse’s shoulder. His leg stomped at a fly and he gave his head a good shake. My fingers twined around his mane as he turned his head to nuzzle at my pockets.

“Let’s get going,” I said, and put my back to Cadan. I
would not cry. I wouldn’t allow myself to. All Cadan wanted was to comfort me. He was sweet, but the only thing that could comfort me right now was finding Antares and getting her to heal Will.

The constantly overcast sky during the day and thick forest canopy were a blessing for Cadan. I’d worried about him being in the sun, but he seemed to handle it fine as long as he didn’t cross into direct sunlight. By the time twilight had fallen and the clouds went away to reveal a beautiful starry sky, my entire body felt like I’d fallen all the way down this mountain instead of having ridden a horse all the way up it. How could anything make someone so sore?

Suddenly all three of the horses’ bodies grew stiff and jittery as they snorted, their breaths billowing in the cold air. They danced, fearful, and made slow rumbling noises and spun in the trail. Their hooves kicked up snow and they looked around themselves, wild-eyed and terror-stricken. I pulled hard on the reins to keep Peewee from taking off beneath me, but she, Savvy, and Star were ready to bolt any second.

“What’s the matter with them?” I shouted to Cadan, who was having as much trouble as I was in controlling his horse.

“They smell demonic reaper,” he replied, eerily calm.

“They just
now
noticed you?”

He shook his head, one hand holding the reins, the other stroking Savvy’s neck. “No, not me. The horses know me. It’s
someone else. I can smell them too.”

My gaze grew hard as I surveyed the surrounding trees. “They must be after us or Antares. There’s no way we can take care of this on horseback. They’re going nuts.”

“Let’s dismount and tie them up,” Cadan suggested and hopped off Savvy.

I followed his lead and helped tie the horses to sturdy branches. They still seemed frightened as we trudged away, but the sooner we intercepted whatever reapers were out here with us, the sooner the horses would calm down and we could continue up the mountain.

I felt a power surge not far from us and when I glanced at Cadan, he signaled to me that he had felt it too. I called my swords and let my own energy buzz, knowing the demonic reapers would sense it the way a shark smells blood and come straight for me. I was right.

The first reaper zipped through the trees on my right. The second was a blur many yards away and Cadan took off after it. Something heavy slammed into me, knocking me into the trunk of a tree. Clawed hands grappled for me and I blindly swung a sword. A grunt from my attacker assured me that I’d struck flesh and he paused just long enough for me to refocus. I slashed again, this time with flawless precision. The reaper’s flaming head hit the snow, rolled, and crumbled to ash with the rest of his body.

“Cadan?” I called, hoping he’d dispatched the other reaper just as easily.

Smothered whimpers told me otherwise. “Over here,” came his reply.

I followed his voice to find him standing over a struggling body lying in a pool of blood in the snow, skewered by his long, thin sword. The female demonic reaper, whose arms had been chopped off at the elbow, looked like she’d been out in the woods for a while. Her skin was dirty and her hair was tangled and matted. Her clothes were torn and stank something foul.

“Look,” Cadan said, beaming. “I found a new friend. She was just about to tell me what she’s doing all the way up here.”

Her eyes, bright red balls of fire, fixed on my face. “Preliator!”

“Excellent guess,” Cadan said, and kicked her in the belly. I heard a crack and she writhed and howled.

“I didn’t even think to keep one alive for questioning,” I said, and crouched by the fallen reaper’s side. “Smart move. So, new friend, what brings you round these parts?”

She snapped her jaws at me before shrinking away and cackling. “Looking for an angel, but we found the wrong one.”

“That hurts,” I said, frowning. “Really. My heart. It’s broken.”

“Are you after Antares?” Cadan demanded.

Her stumps for arms leaked blood gently, as if she were almost out of it. “Merodach sent us for the Cardinal Lord. We
must’ve been close since we ran into you, Preliator.”

“Sammael wants all of the Grigori dead, doesn’t he?” My tone had grown serious, all the humor gone from me.

She wheezed in pain, closing her eyes. “How should I know? I’m only looking for the beast.”

“Are there others looking for the rest of the Grigori?”

She snarled up at me. “We will purge this world of all divine things.”

“I’m taking that as a yes,” I said, and turned my gaze to Cadan. “Let’s take care of her and get going. We’ve got to find Antares before someone else does.”

I stood and turned my back to the skewered reaper. As I walked back to where we’d left the horses, I listened to the reaper hiss obscenities in four different languages at Cadan until he silenced her with a final swing of his sword.

I WANTED TO KEEP RIDING, BUT CADAN INSISTED that both of us and the horses needed to rest. I reluctantly accepted defeat and we found a place to camp. I was so distracted by thoughts of the demonic reapers beating us to Antares that I didn’t even notice that we’d only brought one tent until Cadan had it halfway set up.

“Why just the one?” I asked nervously, slowly removing the stakes from the sack on Star’s back. I glanced over at our horses, which were tied to a nearby tree. Savvy snoozed while Peewee eyed me intently in between bites of grass. Every time he let out a soft snore, she pinned her ears and tossed her head at him.

Cadan took a stake from my hand. “We could only take one packhorse for the two of us and the horse can only carry one tent bag. It’s all right. I only brought this for you.”

“Where will you sleep?”

He gave a reassuring smile. “Out here. I’ve had worse, believe me. And besides, the stars out in the middle of nowhere are incredible. I’d rather be out here, really.”

I helped him get the last couple stakes into the ground. I was still a bit wary of him and didn’t want an awkward repeat of last night. Despite feeling better about sleeping arrangements, I was freezing. The temperature must have been cut in half almost as soon as the sun began to set and the clouds faded. I’d pulled on a hoodie over my long-sleeved shirt and wrapped a blanket around my entire body, but I still shivered. Cadan sparked a fire and I spread my sleeping bag on the ground close to it and soaked in the heat.

“We’ve got a couple sandwiches left over if you’re hungry,” Cadan offered, digging through the food bag.

My stomach grumbled and tightened. “Yes, please. I’m dying over here.”

He dragged his own sleeping bag out onto the ground beside mine and dropped a bottled water and sandwich into my lap. As I ate, I listened to an owl hoot nearby and I finally gave the night sky a good look. My breath caught. It had been so long since I’d seen such bright stars. The sky seemed almost multifaceted as the stars twinkled. The enormous moon was so clear and close that it seemed unreal.

“You were right about the sky,” I said to Cadan.

He shifted next to me as he finished his sandwich. “Not many places on Earth have a view like this.”

“No, they don’t,” I agreed. The chill began to creep through my layers, so I burrowed myself into the sleeping bag like a burrito. Cadan, like all reapers, seemed unaffected by the icy air, and I glowered bitterly at him. “Did you ever find anything more on the hallowed glaive?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been trying to dig up information, but no one seems to know what it is. We’ll need to find an expert on relics, or something. I don’t even know where to start.”

I frowned, thinking of Nathaniel. He’d been a genius and seemed to know everything there was to know about our world. He would have been handy right now—not just so he could help us figure out this mysterious weapon, but I could really appreciate one of his terrible jokes. But he was gone, and so was my mother. And Will would be too if we were unsuccessful. I studied Cadan, who always seemed so cool and collected. I never imagined that he’d lost someone he loved before. “Can I ask you about something?”

“Of course.”

“Can I ask you about Emelia?”

He exhaled, long and tiredly. “Sure. What do you want to know?”

“What happened to her?” I asked. “If you’re not comfortable talking about her, that’s totally fine. I’m just curious and I’m learning so much about you. To be honest, you’re a bit of a puzzle.”

He looked down and he gave an uneven smile. “It’s okay.
A long time has passed and I can talk about her. I met her in 1928 at a party in Los Angeles. She had been seeing Ronan for a while and knew what he was. Their relationship was so interesting to me—I’d never known a demonic reaper to show any sort of affection toward a human. It was obvious he was crazy about her and the more the three of us went to social things together, the more Emelia and I became friends. Ronan made mistakes, though. He had a temper and a sharp tongue, as you must have noticed when you met him. I’d seen Emelia cry more times than I could count. When they split for good, she and I remained friends, and I fell for her hard. I was stupid for a blink of an eye. I should’ve known better.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I was in deep, working for Bastian,” he said somberly. “I had to keep her secret, which I did for almost a year. I knew that if Bastian found out I’d been seeing a human girl…he’d have me flayed alive just to heal his own pride. Then the other demonic would eat her. They’d have taken her soul without a doubt. I should’ve walked away, but I didn’t. Ivar was the one who found me out. We’d had our fun together, but she was maniac. There are crazy girls, and there are
crazy
girls. I never got involved with her beyond anything physical, but she was just as jealous as she was insane. You saw her.”

I did. When Cadan had met me at the library a few months ago and we’d talked for a while, Ivar had tried to rip me apart in the parking lot. Cadan had killed her while
defending me and to protect the secret that he was helping me to stop Bastian.

“Anyway,” Cadan continued, “Ivar followed Emelia after I left her one night and she killed her. I doubled back, but it was too late. I’d left her defenseless and Ivar hunted her down like a rabbit. Before Ivar could…take Emelia’s soul…I fought her. I beat her to hell but I couldn’t kill her. I couldn’t do it and I should have. Every day since I have regretted that.” He sucked in a heavy, trembling breath and his hands rolled into tight fists. “I just stared at her on the ground and then I took Emelia and left Ivar. I was stupid and a coward and just
left
her there.
Alive
.”

I watched him as he suffered internally. His pain and regret was so clear over every inch of him that I felt terribly sad for what happened. “I’m sorry,” I said.

He shook his head. “No. I’m the one who’s sorry. I hope I suffer for the rest of eternity for what I did to that girl. I knew—I
knew
—I never should’ve gotten involved with Emelia. I should’ve been more careful. But I’m selfish. Still am. As I am with you.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I assured him. “Ivar—”

“Yeah, Ivar took her life, but I handed it to her.” He shook his head again, this time less angrily. “I’m so impulsive and completely aware of it. You remind me of Emelia a little. It’s your eyes and your big smile. She loved to go to parties and dance and have fun. Both of you are so bright and full of life. You scared me too. Still do.”

“Good,” I said with a grin. “Then I’m doing my job right.”

I was rewarded with a small smile. “I mean about the way you make me feel, how quickly what I felt reminded me of when I had Emelia. That night when Ivar attacked you, it was like a flashback from Hell. At least I finally found the courage to avenge Emelia. By killing Ivar, I’d broken myself from Bastian completely, my allegiance to him, and then I killed him too. How sad it is that by dealing death, I gained my freedom?”

He gazed back up at the stars, the breeze blowing his hair a little. I hadn’t realized he hurt so much inside, that he felt so much guilt about serving Bastian and for Emelia’s death. The fire crackled in front of us, all heat and light and comfort. I rested my cheek on Cadan’s shoulder and rubbed his arm soothingly.

“It’ll be okay,” I whispered, and took his hand in both of mine. There was nothing I could do to convince him that what happened to that girl wasn’t his fault, despite what he’d convinced himself. It was up to him to forgive himself.

“Whatever happens tomorrow with Antares, I’ve got your back,” he said. “Hopefully Antares won’t be up for round two with me, but a few decades is a blink of an eye to a creature like her and she’ll know me when she sees me. Who knows, though—it may be different with you here.”

“I swear, I won’t leave without the cure,” I said. “I can’t.”

He sighed, relaxing. “We’d both better get some sleep if we want to be functional in the morning.”

“Yeah,” I agreed and groggily finagled myself out of my sleeping bag burrito and got to my feet. “See you in the morning.”

“Yep,” he replied.

Behind me, I heard him rustle his own sleeping bag as I climbed into the tent to make my nest of blankets. It took a few minutes to get comfortably warm, and it took even longer for me to fall asleep.

I woke the next morning without having dreamed about Will and was so afraid for him that I had trouble finishing my breakfast. An ill spin in my gut matched the horrible thoughts in my mind. I didn’t have cell reception way up here so there was no knowing if something had happened to him. Marcus or Ava had no way of contacting me. All I could do was keep going.

Only a few miles higher than the elevation we’d camped at, it was snowing. The ground was lightly dusted and snowflakes fell slowly, sticking to my eyelashes and to Peewee’s mane. The air grew colder and harder to breathe the whole way we climbed. We stopped for lunch around midday and then were on our way again. At last, Cadan pulled his horse up and dismounted, his boots thudding gently in the snow.

“Is she close?” I asked and slid from the saddle to the ground. I led Peewee by the reins up to where Cadan had stopped.

“From here we go on foot,” he said, and tied Savvy to a
tree. “Judah has a map of our route and if we don’t return, he’ll come this way up the mountain and at the very least, find the horses.”

I gave Peewee a good-bye kiss on the nose and a scratch between her ears. I smiled a little to myself when I realized I worried the horses would be left all alone. For a second it felt good not to worry about the dire situation I was soon to walk into.

“You probably won’t want to bring your heavy jacket,” Cadan said almost dismissively.

I gaped at him. “Are you serious? Did you not notice the snow? or the mountain?”

“All right. Your choice.”

“I feel the cold, remember, Superman?” I grumbled.

“What I mean is that the Cardinal Lords make things change,” he said.

“How so?”

A pause. “You’ll see.”

I decided to trust him and leave my coat and wool hat behind. I hopped up and down a couple times to get my heart rate up and blood pumping. “You’d better not make me regret this,” I warned him.

Cadan led me through the narrow path parting the dense thicket, brambles catching on our sleeves and collars, tugging at my hair. I heard the horses nicker and rustle behind us and I prayed they wouldn’t break free and strand us here. The farther we climbed up the mountain, the warmer the
air seemed to be. Not summer warm, but like a late october afternoon’s gentle sun on your skin, and I was glad I’d left my jacket behind. The snow was disappearing, melting away more and more up the path until fallen leaves appeared beneath our feet, crunching with each step. I looked up at the trees and the snow had gone from them, too, their bark dry and dark, limbs still full of red and gold leaves. It was as if time had gone backward; the late spring mountain snow had melted away and autumn emerged before our eyes.

The forest opened to a small golden meadow with an enormous tree in its very center. It looked thousands of years old, its trunk easily thirty feet around, and its boughs so massive and heavy that many of them hung twisted and gnarled to the ground. They curled and coiled in every direction, weaving in and around each other, some of them so wide that I could probably have fit my entire body inside them.

“What is going on?” I asked. “Cadan?”

I looked around for him and spotted him stepping up to the giant tree. He drew a knife from his belt and pressed it to his palm, slicing a fine, thin line of red. Then he touched his hand to the trunk and pushed his blood into the bark. He looked up twelve feet or so, where the branches began to unfurl, and he whispered something.

Immediately the great tree gave a shudder, its branches shaking loose golden leaves. The bark began to morph and I had to blink my eyes hard, certain I was losing my mind. Something began to grow right out of the base of the branches.
It shimmered in the sun, glossed in the shade, and looked nothing at all like bark. It looked like the top of a head. Human limbs rippled smoothly from the bark, extended along the branches at shoulder height as a torso emerged from the tree’s trunk. The body pulled itself from the tree, arms tugging hard, but vines wrapped tightly around the wrists, refusing to release. Hair fell from the figure’s head, gleaming red-gold locks, and pale gold robes wrapped around the body to form a dress that looked unlike any fashion from the last several thousand years. The face stared at the ground as the body pulled forward to free itself from the tree, the hair spilling over narrow shoulders and dainty arms. Bare feet touched the leaf-covered ground, more vines coiling around delicate ankles as if they were chains binding a prisoner to the tree.

Once the body stepped toward me, chains of vines and branches binding its limbs, I could see that it was clearly a she. Her face rose to gaze upon Cadan, eyes blazing like a wildfire beneath heavy lids, lips a natural rose-red, skin golden and shimmering with light as if autumn leaves burned just beneath the surface. She appeared my age, perhaps a couple years older, and she was beautiful in an unnatural way, a frightening, fiery way. She was ancient, never-changing, and I was terrified of her.