Page 48 of Shade of Ruin

Every action has a cost.

~Inni the Destroyer, A History of Magic and Dragons

Magical power flows throughme in a way that it’s never done before. I feel unstoppable right now. Capable of doing anything.

Shadows flow from my fingertips, a thin stream of darkness that falls to the forest floor to cover the leaves and sticks. The moon’s light still coats the world in silver as I embrace the power in my body.

The drumbeat of that power is so loud I doubt I could hear a predator sneaking up on me, but I don’t know if I’d need to hear it. I might justfeelit.

That’s with my mother’s ring on. When I slip it off and slide it into a pocket, the shadows explode from my fingertips, like thick water that’s unaffected by the soft breeze. Leaves fall from the trees, and they’re swallowed up by the inky blackness that roils around me.

That darkness pulls at me. Calling for me to move it, to twist it and shift it. To make it into something else.

I look up at the moon in the night sky. A mirror of my own darkness. The waning moon against a darkness that isn’t actually dark. A billion little pinpricks of light fill the sky, and when I look down at the shadows at my feet, I wonder what else those shadows could be. Is darkness all I have in me? Or could there be light there as well? Could there be stars in my own midnight sky?

The waves of shadows shift and twist, and as that drum beats a steady rhythm, an image of the Shade rises from them. The black cloak. Every little piece of him except the coarse hands and sharp nails. Just like when he’s here, shadows pool around his feet, hiding the ground. Except that this time, they’re my shadows.

I run my hands over the cloaked side of his face, my fingers touching that black mist instead of cloth, but I swear I feel it. Rough linen that’s seen thousands of years. Stained black not only from dye but also from blood and tears.

I don’t know why I recreated the Shade out of shadows. I didn’t do it on purpose, but when I let my power flow unconstrained, this is what the shadows showed me.

An imitation that looks so similar to the Fae I’ve become far too familiar with. Why do I want to touch him like this? I glancedown at the marks on my wrist. Those four reasons that Cole doesn’t trust me.

As if I had called him, a voice comes from behind a tree. Like water over river rocks, it speaks to me. Except that this time, I hadn’t called him. I hadn’t wanted his help. “You could do better if you tried harder,” the Shade says as he flows toward me. Before he gets too close to me, I step back, not ready for him to touch me.

How long has he been here? What has he seen? Did he see me look longingly at his likeness? Did he see me try to touch it?

His hand trails over the side of the shadows, those long black nails cutting through it easier than a knife through butter, but where his fingers pass, the shadows disappear, and the vision fades.

“Do it again now that you have a model,” he says and turns toward me. “Look at me and make it accurate. Including the fingers.”

I blink. “I don’t want to. Thank you for the help, but I can’t become indebted any more than I already am.”

He slowly shakes his head. “This will not put you in my debt. You are my investment, Maeve, and making sure that you can protect yourself is important to protecting that investment. Tomorrow, you will go to the most dangerous place in the world, and if you aren’t ready… I’ll lose my investment.”

The way he says it, so cold and ruthless, I’m reminded of all the stories. Wealthy men who’d made a bargain and then been forced to burn down their businesses. Poor women who’d been forced to marry men who they never wanted to marry.

Nowhere in any of it was there softness or kindness. If I could go back in time, would I have asked the Shade for help again? Yes. At least for Hazel. Maybe the other three times. But not now. Not when I have the power, and I’m learning to use it.

“Tonight, Maeve, you are going to train with shadow magic.” He says the words slowly. “You’ll do as I say until I am done. Is that understand?”

“No.” I want to be alone tonight. I want to understand the emotions that run through me. The last thing I want is to be near the Shade and be influenced by the way he makes me feel.

“That isn’t an acceptable response. I call in the debt, Maeve Arden. You will follow my directions on practicing shadow magic, or you will forfeit your life.” My wrist begins to burn, and I look down at the fourth mark on my wrist. “Decide to do as I say, and the pain will go away.” My eyes go wide as I watch the mark go from black to glowing red. Pain sears through my body, hundreds of times worse than when he put the mark on my wrist.

“Fine!” I shout. The pain immediately fades. After only a second, it’s like there wasn’t any pain at all. I run my finger over the mark that had turned red hot. “Why would you do that?” I ask, eyes wide. “Why are you trying to force me to train with magic tonight?”

“I’ve already explained it,” he says, just as coldly as he had earlier. “Now make a copy of me out of shadows.”

I hesitate, and the mark on my arm flares with pain. Immediately, I focus on doing as he says, and the pain evaporates. I focus on all the details of the Shade, from the way the cloak moves to the way the shadows seem to swirl around him. Then I try to get his nails and hands correct. That part is the hardest. Especially with the fact that the shadows don’t have any color.

The Shade nods and approaches the effigy. He looks closer, and I’m not sure whether he’s appreciating it or critiquing it. Then he says, “Make it move.”

What? I blink at him. “How am I supposed to do that?”

He smiles at me. Sure, I can’t see it, but I know he’s doing it. “Just do it. They’re your shadows. An outpouring of your power. Make it move just like you’d move your own arm.”

I can’t do that. There’s no way. As soon as the Shade sees the fear and confusion in my eyes, he moves toward me and hisses, “Stand still and don’t move a muscle.” As I try to pull away, my arm burns like it’s on fire. When I look down at it, I can see steam coming from the mark and little bubbles rising on the surrounding skin.

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