Anne Ursu - The Shadow Thieves

Some servants to help him gather the shadows. He would so like to have servants.

His skin was beginning to look raspy, his inner organs felt like someone was tugging on them, and his mind was filling with clouds. But he had one more errand to run.

He went back to the scene of the Death-already that made him feel a little better-and found the boy's room. There was a nice chair in the corner, so he sat and waited. Darkness spread over the room, and soon the door opened and Zero came in and got into the bed. Philonecron wanted to hug him, to cradle him, to sing him to sleep-you wonderful boy, you have changed the world. But instead he just sat and watched as the boy's breathing became long and steady. His chest heaved up and down so peacefully, and Philonecron took a moment to think of the great beauty of childhood and of the fragility of Life. Really, he thought, nothing is more precious than watching a child sleep. Then he got up, picked up the boy's arm, and drained some blood.

Mission accomplished, he headed to the nearest door to wait for the Messenger.

Philonecron had given the Footmen careful instructions on how to navigate the Upperworld. In a way, he hated to send them up there; they were such precious, pure creatures, and he was loath to corrupt them with the world of Life. But that's what they were for, there was no getting around it. And they proved quick and willing studies, eager to sip from his font of knowledge, to strive to improve themselves, to work to be the best they could be. They reminded Philonecron so much of himself.

He taught them a few spells, enough for shadow stealing, stealth, protection, and minor time manipulation. But he had no idea what it would be like for them up there. Would they be seen? How long could they stay? Would they be frightened? All he could do was give them as many tools as he could and then send them out into the world, heart in his throat.

His last gift to them, before their first journey, was a small vial of Zero's blood.

"Keep this close to you at all times," he said. "When you go into the Upperworld, you will find yourself drawn toward the site of a Death. Resist. Take out this vial of blood. Smell it. Then pick out the scent in the air and follow it. It will lead you to a boy. His name is Zero. When you find Zero, follow him. He will lead you to your shadows."

Sometimes Philonecron was stunned by his own genius. He could have sent his men out willy-nilly, but that would just waste time. Death so often led to blood, but rarely to children. Children, on the other hand, inevitably led to more of the little rascals. Of this he was certain.

He sent out two of the Footmen on the first day with an impassioned "Go out, my darlings, go out and conquer." He spent the next several hours pacing back and forth in his cave, unable to do anything either evil or genius.

But then there they were, at the mouth of the cave, with their cracking, flaky mouths set in satisfied grins. Philonecron stopped his pacing and stared at them. One by one they unfolded shadows – one, two, three, four, five, six, seven! Seven shadows for a few hours' work. The shadows were in perfect condition, not a tear in the bunch. And the two Footmen, the two glorious Footmen, bowed from the waist and left Philonecron to his shadows.

The game was on.

Philonecron set up a little evil laboratory in a spacious cave nearby where he could experiment on the shadows. He found he could replicate them, but only about a hundred per shadow before the original became worn.

It took some doing to enchant the shadows, and even when he did, they tended to float around like specters, not behave like good little soldiers. That would take some doing. Zero's blood proved essential for everything. He should have known-well, he did know. That's the sort of evil genius he was. Every single shadow got a drop of the boy's blood. Certainly any human blood would have sufficed to give them Life, but by giving them the blood from the same person-well, did he mention he was a genius? You'll see why later.

The Footmen all had their different methods of shadow stealing. Beta, Zeta, Lambda, and Mu liked to stop time before the children saw them, freezing the creatures in the most delightful positions, reaching in and grabbing the shadows, then leaving the children frozen until the spell wore off. Kappa, Alpha, and Theta chose to let themselves be seen, then freeze the children in their postures of horror, whereas Delta, Epsilon, Iota, Gamma, and Eta preferred not to stop time at all, letting the children scream through the whole process until they passed out. Variety being the spice of life.

During the day the Footmen went out, and Philonecron experimented on the shadows. At night they gathered in Philonecron's cave and he read to them, or played music, or lectured on philosophy or history or fine wine. Then the Footmen slept- they slept standing up, like little wax statues. They were so adorable.

And every day the pile of shadows grew.

Zero was proving extremely cooperative, too. Just when the Footmen had collected almost all the shadows from the town that they possibly could, the boy left. It didn't take long to find him, and when they did – oh, what a day! He had gone to London. London! They would never have to worry about running out of shadows now, as long as the boy wasn't some sort of housebound misfit. Which he wasn't. He was intelligent, social, athletic, involved, handsome! He was wonderful, he was perfect, he was something, he was Philonecron's little Zero. Philonecron had chosen perfectly, perfectly-how his shadows would be inspired by the boy's commands!

(Oops. Well, he let that slip, didn't he? Philonecron never could keep a secret. But he had learned from his weeks of shadow work that the final step in bringing the shadows to Life would be the commands of the human whose blood they had been enchanted with. That being Zero. He'd have to find a way to convince the boy to speak the words, but that shouldn't be a problem. He'd spent enough time with the boy's blood that he wouldn't have too much trouble with the mind control, and he'd already begun working on luring Zero down to the Underworld.)

Philonecron didn't even notice when things went terribly wrong; he was too busy working in his laboratory training the shadows to become ethereal when attacked. But for four days the Footmen came back empty-handed. At night on the fifth day the captain of the Footmen appeared in the doorway of Philonecron's cave. Philonecron could tell just by looking at him that something was amiss-not that the Footman betrayed any emotion, but a good father always knows.

"My Lord. I am sorry to disturb you. But.."

Alpha was the only one of the Footmen who had speech. Philonecron did not think it necessary for them all to talk. He did so detest noise, and after all, what would they say? One would be just fine; Alpha could speak for all of them. Alpha's voice was barely even a voice; it was as if he moved air around to form syllables, as if the wind itself whispered in Philonecron's ear. Really, it was quite pleasant.

"My dear. Come in. What's bothering you?"

Alpha bowed in response. "My Lord. There is a problem."

Philonecron put his arm around his servant. "Well then, we'll fix it. Tell me everything."

Alpha's face grew long, even longer than usual. "It's Zero. He's stopped leaving the house."

"What do you mean?"

"He has not left his house in days. I believe"-he cleared his throat-"I believe he encountered some of us in medias res, and he has not left the house since. I do not think he is coming out. I am so sorry, my Lord, I do not know how it happened. We were careless, and…"

The Footman cringed a little, as if Philonecron were going to beat him. Beat him! His little darling! No, no. Accidents happen.