J. Geissinger - Shadow’s Edge

Freedom was something new and foreign to him.

It was also exquisitely intoxicating.

Hours later, at the far edge of Sommerley, as he perched naked atop the towering hewn walls that marked the end of their territory, he stared out into the vast, unknown world on the other side and it suddenly came upon him.

What if I keep going?

The thought arrested him. For one blind moment, he teetered between an agonizing, heart-wrenching need to flee his future and his people and his heritage and everything that came with these things...and the yoke of duty that had hung around his neck since birth.

He was Alpha heir. He was the future of the colony. With all the privilege and power that accompanied his position, he was bound and tethered in ways none of the others were.

He stared into the sultry sky, at the fat, perfect moon overhead. He envisioned a future for himself that included freedom and romance and swashbuckling adventures...and just like that, the decision was made. He smiled up at the moon, straightened from his crouch, and was just about to Shift to vapor...

...when his father reached out and, very firmly, grasped his wrist.

“Before you go,” he said lightly, “a moment of your time.”

Leander spun between shock and indignation and twitched out of his father’s grasp.

Unfortunately, and to Leander’s eternal chagrin, his father was one of the few others in the colony who could Shift to vapor. His Gifts were unmatched, his senses powerful. Leander had been caught, more than once, in some boyish act of insubordination precisely because of it.

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” he huffed, dropping his gaze from his father’s face, enigmatic and shadowed by the canopy of alder trees that spread their boughs overhead.

“No?” his father answered, laughter warming his voice. “I rather thought you were.”

Leander didn’t answer. He turned away and stared sullenly at his feet, breathing heavily through his nose. Humiliation and anger washed over him in awful, pummeling waves.

“At any rate, you should know a few things before you make your decision.”

“It’s not as if you’d really let me go anyway,” Leander said, sullen and indignant. “I never get to do anything I want.”

A car drove by in the night, unseen, somewhere far off in the black distance beyond Sommerley. Just the low-pitched hum of tires moving over asphalt on a road he’d never seen was enough to make him ache with longing for all the things he’d never be allowed.

“We’re very alike, you and I,” his father said softly, studying his son’s face. “It was hard for me, and it will be hard for you. Even harder, I imagine. Murder, assassination, lying, espionage...all these things will be required of you, all these and more if you are to lead our kind. But you are strong, and that is a very good thing. Because being the leader of the Ikati is a duty that would crush the weak.”

Leander crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his father, defiant, unrepentant. “I don’t want to be a leader. I just want to be left alone.”

His father gave him a sidelong glance and a smile filled with compassion.

“Things change, Leander. Day by day, the future comes nearer, the past recedes. Whether we like it or not, change is inevitable.” His father’s gaze slid to where the light from the gatehouse pooled saffron and gold on the cobbled road leading away from Sommerley. His gaze followed the road until the light dwindled and the cobblestones were swallowed by shadow.

“Your time is coming, son. And I know you’ll be ready. But if you are unwilling to live the life that’s set before you” —his father lifted his hand to the night, a simple gesture filled with grace and authority—“then go.”

Leander stood frozen on the wall. The night breeze rustled the trees around them, the smell of elderberry and wet grass was crisp and cool in his nose.

“Deserters are considered one of the worst threats to the tribe,” Leander said slowly, thinking it through. His mind turned, leaping ahead. “They’re desperate. Uncontrolled. Dangerous. Almost as dangerous as...”

But he didn’t say the word. It hung in the air between them.

“Yes,” his father answered.

He chewed the inside of his lip. “The Assembly would come after me.”

His father smiled serenely. “Yes.”

“I’d have to find somewhere forested, somewhere I could live and Shift without being noticed...”

“I daresay you would be able to take care of yourself, to find a way to survive alone. You’re the bravest of my children, by far the most resourceful. Though you’re young, I’ve no doubt you’d manage. And the world is full of wooded places, to be sure.”

Leander sent a glace back toward Sommerley, toward where his home lay deep in the wild and beautiful woods. His heart seized with sudden emotion—elation or remorse, he couldn’t tell. “Mother would kill you.”

His father nodded ruefully. “Undoubtedly.”

Leander’s temper snapped. “Then why! Why would you do such a thing! Why would you let me go when it’s against the Law—when no one can leave, not even you, the Alpha!”

His father suddenly looked older. His handsome features betrayed the burden of a lifetime of leadership in the lines around his mouth, in the furrows carved in his brow.

“Because you are my son, and I love you. You have a choice, as do we all, but you must be willing to pay the consequences. You must be willing to forsake everything you have, or ever will have here at Sommerley: your friends, your family, your home. You must be willing to walk away from your heritage and your future and any kind of security. You must be willing to be chased, and possibly—most likely—caught and punished severely by the Assembly.

“You must be willing to be hunted by our enemies, to run from place to place like a fugitive, to feel like an outsider everywhere you go on this earth. You must be sure that whatever it is you are pursuing by abandoning your home is worth all these things.”

His father sighed then and turned to the edge of the wall they perched atop. He peered down into the dark meadow spread below, filled with alpine flowers and dozing mice and the sweet, ripening smell of the summer to come. “To my mind, there is only one thing worth that kind of sacrifice. Only one thing in all the world.”

“What is it?” Leander whispered, enthralled with a curious, creeping dread.

The amber glow reflected from the gatehouse lanterns warmed his father’s profile as he turned his head slightly and smiled down at him.

“Love.”

Leander blinked, confused. His father’s smile only deepened. “Are you in love, son?”

Leander wrinkled his nose and snorted. “ No .”

“Ah. Well, then. Perhaps it’s not worth the risk. But I leave that to you to decide.”

His father began to dissolve into vapor from the feet up, slowly, in parts, his body shimmering and turning, evanescing into the warmed air like steam curling up from water, until only his shoulders and head remained. It was a trick Leander had seen before, when his mother was angry with him about something and he’d wanted to soften her with a bit of whimsy.

Leander crossed his arms over his chest, unmoved, and glared at his father.

“Whatever your decision, son, I’d like to ask you one favor.”

Silence. An aggravated sigh. Then—“What?”

“If you do come back tonight, let’s keep this conversation between the two of us. If your mother finds out I didn’t try to stop you,” he chuckled as his chest and neck disappeared into vapor, winding up around his head in fine ribbons, pale as smoke, “she’ll kill me.”

With a wink, he dissolved completely, leaving Leander alone in the succoring dark.