Sandy Williams - The Shadow Reader

“Is his sword bloody?”

“Yes.”

Kyol vanishes in a flash of light. He reappears behind the two fae, dispatches the first before they know he’s there, meets the spinning attack of the second and counters. Three swings later, that one enters the ether, leaving behind nothing but his fading soul-shadow.

Kyol fissures back to my side. I describe the scene again. Then again and again, sprinting from one tree to the next at Kyol’s command. There’s something synchronous about the way we work together. He knows where I’m looking, understands the details that capture my attention like that rotting limb a fae not visible to Kyol steps over, or the area of ground I describe as a giant’s footprint. He stays close when I whisper locations to him, touching my shoulder, my arm, placing an encouraging hand on the small of my back. To show he’s there for me. He’ll take care of me, keep me safe.

His warmth is comforting and the horror of what’s going on around us isn’t as sharp as it will be later in my nightmares. It’s as if I’m watching it from a distance. This is a scene from a movie, nothing more.

Nothing more until something hits me. I’m slammed to the ground a second after Kyol fissures away again. Pain explodes through my left shoulder blade and radiates across my back.

I gasp as I roll to my right side.

Something moves in front of me. A man. A vigilante. Vaguely familiar eyes widen in surprise. Not Naito’s eyes. His father’s eyes. They narrow, undoubtedly realizing I’m not one of his people, then his mouth thins into a resolute line. A pistol rises out of his camouflaged netting. It aims at my chest.

“Dad!”

The vigilante whips his head toward Naito’s voice.

I roll away as Kyol fissures between us, swinging his blade at Nakano.

The gun goes off. Something wet splashes across my face.

“Kyol!” I cry out, terrified he’s been shot. A second later, I see a severed arm clutching a pistol and hear Nakano’s scream.

“Dad!” Naito skids to his knees beside his father.

“McKenzie!” Kyol’s hands are on me.

Before I can say anything, Aren fissures to my other side. “Are you hurt?”

I shake my head. There’s too much going on. Too many gunshots and fissuring fae. And there’s an arm on the ground in front of me and a man bleeding and cursing and trying to push away his son, his son, who—even though he hates him—is trying to save his father’s life.

Naito cinches his belt around the stump of Nakano’s arm.

“Help him.” I push Aren toward the humans.

“You’re not hurt?”

“No.” A bullet in the back is what knocked me to the ground, but I don’t think it penetrated my vest. Adrenaline’s numbing the pain now.

“Get her out of here,” Aren orders. He scrambles across the forest floor to Nakano.

As Kyol’s pulling me to my feet, a shadow captures my attention. I would just let it go, but it nags at me like an itch that needs to be scratched. It’s a Court fae. I can’t see his face, but I’m certain I know him. He’s . . . Holy shit, it’s Radath.

I yank my sketchbook out of my satchel as he fissures away. “He’s running.”

“Not now, McKenzie.”

I push Kyol’s hands away and take the pen out of the spiral. “It’s Radath.”

Kyol freezes. I take advantage of his indecision and scratch the first twist of shadows across a blank page. The trail’s fresh enough. I think I can map his location to within a couple hundred feet.

“He’s gone to the Realm.” He’ll double fissure so I have to be accurate. A deeper shade of black narrows into a curving line. The river leaks out into the Jythia Ocean.

I focus. The shadow’s scale changes, grows more precise. I flip to the next page to narrow my map down as well. He’s fissured into a rocky field. It’s nowhere near a town, just a place in the middle of nowhere.

“Criskran.” I shove the sketchbook in front of Kyol’s eyes. “You can catch him.”

His jaw clenches.

“Stay with Jorreb,” he orders. He takes my gun out of its holster, presses it into my hands, and something flickers in his eyes. I don’t realize what it is until he fissures out. He doesn’t expect to see me again. Why? He can take Radath in a fair fight.

In a fair fight.

Fear drives the air out of my lungs. It’s a trap. It’s the only explanation for Radath being here, right here , where Kyol and I both stood.

God, what have I done?

I press my back against a tree and scan the forest for anything, anyone who can help him.

Aren’s stopped Nakano’s stump from bleeding. He fissures away to fight a trio of Court fae, leaving Naito at his father’s side.

“Get away!” Nakano roars at his son.

Naito complies. He picks up the gun from his father’s severed hand and takes aim at one of the fae Aren’s fighting.

I scramble in the direction of the Sidhe Tol , slipping on wet leaves as the battle roars on. I have to find someone willing and able to help Kyol. I have to.

I spot Nalst running past Nakano. Before I call the rebel’s name, Nakano moves. My heart thumps in my chest as he pulls a gun out from behind his back. He aims.

“Watch out!” I scream, swinging my gun up to aim, but Nalst is in my way.

Two shots ring out. I spin in the direction Nakano shot, making sure he hasn’t hit any rebels.

He has.

Kelia cries out, sinking to her knees. She has armor under her camo, though. She’ll be okay. She’ll get up. She’ll . . .

A wet stain grows across her breast.

Oh, God.

I run to her. I drop my gun, placing my hand over her heart to try to stop the bleeding. Her cuirass is in the way. The blood’s leaking out the gap on the side, too. It’s leaking everywhere, staining her clothes. I can’t put enough pressure on it.

She cries out when I yank at her shirt, ripping it so I can get to the strings holding the jaedric together.

“I’m sorry. I have to . . . God. I have to get this off you.”

My hands shake. Blood tightens the knots at her side. I can’t get them undone.

“Naito,” she chokes out.

Shit. She’s going to die. She can’t wait. She needs help now.

“Aren!” I yell.

I scan the forest, spot him slaying a Court fae. He turns toward me the same instant Naito does.

“Kelia!” Naito flies across the forest floor almost as quickly as Aren fissures here. He drops to his knees, takes his hand in hers. “Baby, hang on.”

“Naito,” she whispers, focusing on his face.

Aren takes out a knife, cuts through the bindings on her side. He flings the cuirass aside and places his hands over Kelia’s bullet wounds. His hands glow blue as he flares his magic. The tension floods out of Kelia’s body. An instant later, she vanishes.

I stop breathing. No. She couldn’t have died. Aren was healing her. He was . . .

A spasm wracks through Naito. An anguished scream rips from his throat.

“No!” He reaches for her rising soul-shadow, clutching at the air as if he can keep it in this world. “No!”

The white shadow dissipates.

“No!”

I back away. Kelia’s dead. Kyol’s gone. Fae are still dying around us. I don’t know if any rebels have made it to the Sidhe Tol . Don’t know how much longer until the reinforcements from the other attacks arrive.

Naito screams again. His pain brings tears to my eyes.

God, we shouldn’t be here. We shouldn’t have come.

I take another step back. My tears stream down my face, mixing with the rain.

Another step back and I hit something. I put a hand behind me to balance against the tree, only it’s not a tree.

I start to turn, but something wraps around me. Something invisible.