Excerpt from Book II of ‘In Shadow,’ series: To Shadow Bound:
The wagon lurched into motion, leaving a grim and horrified crowd in its wake. Nothing like it had ever happened before in the history of Astoria and all hoped it would never happen again. Kent watched the vehicle vanish into the city, bearing with it all sense of right and good to be buried in some unmarked grave, never to be remembered more, or so it felt, for how could the world go on after such inexplicable evil in the very heart of Astoria? He had dedicated his life to order, honor, justice, and peace, yet two men he had once esteemed as the epitome of those very precepts now lay dead: one murdered and the other executed for the crime. With a heavy heart he withdrew into the heart of the keep, praying desperately for some answer, to make some sense of the situation, but he fell asleep with no answers and no consolation to his grieving heart.
His dreams were dark and terrible, his deepest fears and griefs come to life. He walked in a misty world of darkness with fear at his side, an unwelcome companion upon a road he did not wish to take. Something howled in the darkness and answers came from every direction, grim eyes like embers glowed malevolently out of the night dark mist. Kent shivered and reached for his sword, the cold familiar weight little comfort in his hand, for it was little defense against such foes and none at all against the Voices.
One hissed, “where is justice now?”
Another mocked, “you dedicated your life to this cause, is this what you wanted?”
“Where is your Master on this tragic day?” jeered yet another.
Laughed a fourth, “is this all there is?”
Kent dropped his sword and put his hands over his ears, trying to block out the taunting scorn in those hideous Voices, but they still echoed in his mind, driving him to his knees, tears of horror and dread in his eyes, praying that they could not possibly be right, but there came no answer, only the Voices. They mocked and jeered at him, laughed in contempt at all he was and had ever done or hoped to do, slowly drawing closer, their eyes like furious stars in the shrouding mist. He had no hope of survival, he knew that, they would taunt him, mock him, try and break him, and then they would devour him utterly, unless he despaired of all he had ever believed and joined ranks with them. He was on his face, weeping like a forsaken child alone in the night, their taunts and mockery ringing true: where was the Master now? Where was hope amid despair, life in the midst of death, light in the darkness? It had been promised but it had not come; it would not come, laughed the fiends.
Suddenly the Voices began to whisper in agitation, a tremor ran through them like wind in the grass; their scorn was suddenly replaced by terror and they fled, not far, but Kent could no longer smell their fetid breath, like rotten carrion, cold upon his face. He dared to look up, and for a moment a far different terror seized his heart, for another apparition stood before him, this one invoking dread of another kind. Which fate was worse he could not then determine: to be set upon by the fiends and torn asunder or to forever wander the world, a ghost without rest or home. For that is what stood before him, a ghost, in all its haunting splendor. He saw a man, a man he once knew, a man he saw murdered that very day, but then again, he was not the man he had always known, for he glowed slightly with a light not of this world, and it was this that had caused the unease amongst the Voices and driven them for a moment from the immediate vicinity.
“Can you stand?” came the familiar voice, but Kent merely buried his face again in the muddy turf. The voice came again, more insistent but also gently, as a mother caught in a tender moment with her little one, “you must stand or the fiends will soon be upon you.”
“He is ours!” wailed a Voice in the night.
Came another, “you cannot steal him thus!”
With a shiver of dread, Kent flew to his feet, recovering his sword as he did so, setting himself in a defensive stance with the ghost before him, but glancing nervously off into the night whither the Voices had fled. Said he in terror, “you are dead Baye.”
Baye smiled easily at him, “perhaps.”
The sheer incongruity of that statement for a moment drove the fear from Kent’s mind as he frowned in consternation, “what does that mean? Either you are or you aren’t, you can’t have it both ways!”
Baye grinned in amusement, “well then I am not dead, as you can obviously see.”
Kent stared, “I watched you die!”
“Yes,” said Baye, a slight smile on his face, “but it was not the first time nor will it be the last.”
Kent shook his head in confusion, “how can you be so relaxed about death in general and the scandalous manner of your own in particular?”
Baye grew grave, “is that what is bothering you?”
“Bothering me!” Kent keened, “it has almost been my undoing! Do you know how the Voices have taunted and how my own uneasy heart has quailed in horror that they might be right? Everything I once believed, all that I stood for, has come to naught! To see two men I once respected meet such an end?”
Baye shook his head sadly, “I am sorry it has vexed you so, but I suppose that is part of the reason I am here.” He glanced into the darkness significantly, “besides for the obvious problem of your fiendish companions of course.” A mischievous look entered his eyes as his hand glowed so intensely that Kent was forced to look away or go blind, continued Baye as if nothing of interest were happening, “we’ll let the perpetrator of your disquiet speak for himself.”
There came a brilliant flash and when Kent could again see, Jace stood there looking rather perplexed. He flashed the smugly grinning Baye a look of surprise, quickly assessed the situation, and then turned back to Baye with an impish grin, “what are we doing out here in the dark? I thought you were trying to be more sensible on occasion.”
Baye grinned all the more, “Kent here is vastly troubled by the happenings of the day so I thought it appropriate if you explain matters to his satisfaction, and this is not one of those occasions.”
Jace gave him an annoyed frown, but turned troubled eyes upon the astonished Kent, “I am sorry matters have so unsettled you, but things are certainly not as they seem.”
Kent gaped, “that is an understatement! You broke Oath! You murdered your friend and mentor! You were justly executed for your crimes, yet you stand here bantering as if nothing of consequence has happened! I nearly lost faith because of you.”
Jace stared off into the darkness, “yes, they can have that effect on people, especially one who is afraid or uneasy in his heart. You did well to resist them.” He looked soberly at Kent, “has anything ever been ‘normal’ in your interactions with me?”
Kent smiled in spite of himself, “I cannot say yes to that and you know it. From the moment of our first meeting, uncanniness has wrapped itself about you like a cloak!”
Jace nodded, “precisely, so it should not unsettle you much more to see the things you have seen this day.” He turned amused eyes upon Baye, “Adan once saw this villain run me through the heart with his sword and then stand over my fallen form in gloating triumph, the very first day I was in his keeping in fact.”
Baye said patiently, “it was not in gloating triumph, I was just happy you had finally mastered the skill I was trying to teach you; I thought you would never learn and we might be thus engaged until the end of time!”
Jace grinned impishly but sobered as he faced Kent, “as you can see, there is far more to the matter than you can as of yet ascertain, but know that I committed no true evil or rendered any permanent harm, but rather we played out this little drama at the Master’s behest.” He said quietly, “He said that my former self must die, and die it did, in flaming ignobility in fact and Baye was also of an age that he should no longer be walking the mortal earth as himself any longer.”
Kent shook his head, “I understand none of this.”
Baye grinned, “you are not supposed to, unless you want to be a part of our perplexing little conspiracy?”
Kent s
aid with wide eyes, “I have no wish whatsoever!” He smiled apologetically at Jace, “whatever it is that you have embroiled yourself in, I have no wish to partake. I cherish order, predictability, and routine, not the chaos and disorder that seem to surround you and yours.” He eyed Baye soberly, “you have my word that what I have seen shall never be broached to another.” He smiled slightly he relief, “but at least you have managed to allay my worst fears and misgivings in regards to today’s events; the Master is fully in control of the situation and therein I shall be content.” He glanced nervously off into the darkness, “what of them?”
Jace drew his sword and said grimly, “leave them to me, but if you wish no part in this, I suggest you run as fast and as far as you can in the opposite direction, throw yourself into the deepest ditch you can find and cover your eyes.”
Kent looked questioningly at Baye, who said, “this is no dream lad, the unmaking of these fiends may well loose powers no mortal flesh can withstand; you had best do as he says lest you find yourself unmade.”
Kent mouthed the word ‘unmade,’ in astonishment, but bowed deeply to them both and then fled with all haste. Baye gave Jace, who now wore Kent’s likeness, a final salute before following after the fugitive to see that he got away safely; Jace dashed into the darkness, whence the Voices had fled. They were upon him immediately, shadowy wolves with glowing eyes that stank of death and the grave. They mocked and taunted, hissed and tempted, thirsting for his blood, willing or unwilling. He said nothing but let them approach, daring them to do their worst. Sensing they could extract no more terror or despair from this particular soul and knowing it would not willingly yield itself to them, they leapt upon it as one, only too late learning their fatal error, for this was not the soul they were sent to destroy, but rather it had been sent to unmake them. As their teeth sank into the man’s vulnerable flesh, an awful light was loosed, obliterating them all.
Kent ran as fast and as far as he could, running blindly in the dark, before stumbling into a gully where he collapsed in exhaustion. A moment later an awful light washed over the land, like a wave crashing upon the shore, and suddenly he knew it was over. Baye stood at the top of the gully, and seeing Kent safe, vanished into the luminous tsunami. Kent lay in the ditch, breathing hard but a relieved smile on his face. As the wan light of dawn crept into the wash where he had sheltered, Kent at last crept from his refuge and began the long walk back to Astoria, grateful for the chance to think upon all that had happened of late, but happily at peace.
Baye and Jace stood alone in the clearing once more, said Jace, “why are we having such trouble of late recruiting someone into the Shadow?”
Baye shook his head, “you were the first initiate in two hundred years, Adan and Hawk joined us soon thereafter, which is unheard of in this profession. Do not be surprised if it takes some little time to find someone else, for not all are as suited to this peculiar service as you and your companions.”
Jace nodded thoughtfully, gave his friend a hearty smile, and then each vanished about whatever errands this minor adventure had interrupted. But the dell was not yet to be left to itself, for a great raven lingered in a dead oak, a shadow of evil muting the sunlight in that particular corner of creation. He challenged the open air, “it is not fair! You have so gifted your particular pets that I have no chance in opposing them! Neither can their faithfulness be shaken, for you have blessed them too abundantly! Let us see what happens when they are bereft of your favor and left to my mercies!”
A light too bright to look upon gleamed on the far side of the glade, resolving itself into a pert magpie, which was not fazed in the least by the presence of the vile raven, said He in disgust, “do as you wish, Fiend, but my servants shall find themselves blessed all the more for your meddling!” He vanished in another flash of brilliant light, but it was a softer gleam that attracted the raven’s keen eye, for there in the grass something bright and metallic glinted in the sun. The stygian bird fluttered down from his perch and cocked his head in eager study of a rather plain looking dagger; he took it up in his claws with a raucous cry of exultation and vanished into the shadows of the wood.