Page 21 of Cursed Shadows

Variant is dressed in a handsome suit of light blue satin; a sword with an intricately ornate hilt hangs at his waist. His pale, long hair is slicked back, and his face is fixed in an expression of fury. The halfling beside him has to hurry to keep up with his long, powerful strides.

“Where are they?” the king demands.

“We still don’t know, your grace,” responds his companion, a quivering man, small even for his race. He’s balding and wears a pair of thin spectacles.

“Why don’t you know? We have eyes throughout this kingdom, and you imbeciles can’t manage to find the two most famous men in all the realms and one blasted angel?” he’s nearly shouting.

The halfling’s voice quivers even more in his response,“After they left Geldingstock, there’s been no sign of them, your grace. We’ve searched every corner of Shadow, Mortal, and Fae.”

“Then why aren’t they currently prisoners in my dungeon?”

The halfling looks on the verge of passing out from fear. His face is devoid of color, and he wipes his palms earnestly against his pants. “Perhaps they perished, your grace?”

“They’re immortal beings! The only person who can kill them is standing in front of you!”

The halfling flinches in response to Variant’s reaction. “But Liege—” begins the halfling, eager to cover his mistake.

“I’ve heard enough!” shouts Variant, his forehead pulsing. “No more of your drivel, or the next person to perish will be you.” The halfling cowers and Variant’s mouth curls in disgust. The king shakes his head and stands quietly for a moment—his body is taut with rage. “Bring me Anona,” he instructs.

The halfling hurries back toward the door while Variant approaches his throne. He slowly ascends the steps and angrily flicks the tails of his coat before sitting. Moodily, he stares at the door, waiting for Anona to enter.

She comes in not more than a few seconds later, escorted by a large guard. Her left eye is black, and her clothes are ripped and torn. Her usual cool, calm demeanor has vanished.Instead, she appears small, her body caving in on itself in a posture of submission and fear.

Her head is bowed in the king’s presence as she shuffles forward slowly.

“I’m going to give you a second chance,”Variant tells her. His arrogant voice is measured—it borders on uninterested. At his words, Anona’s head snaps up, her eyes well with tears of gratitude.

“Oh, thank you, my king. I promise I will never fail you again. You’re generous, I—”

He holds up his hand and her voice stills.“I’m going to give you a second chance,” he repeats. “But first, I need you to do a little job for me.”

“Anything, my lord,” she responds eagerly.

“The angel you were harboring is traveling with two companions, Dragan and Cambion. Find all three of them, return them to me, and all is forgiven. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“And bring the three of them to me… alive.”

“Yes, my liege,” Anona agrees and drops her head in deference.

Variant nods to the guard, who releases the chains around her wrists. She rubs at her skin. The guard begins to lead her from the room just as Variant speaks again.

“Oh, and Anona?” He adds, and she turns to look at him. “Fail me again and I’ll have your head.”

Her eyes widen before she turns and continues to follow the guard out of the room.

“Leave me,”Variant instructs the halfling with a flick of his hand.

Quickly, to avoid further infuriating his master, the small man shuffles out of the room behind Anona and the guard.

When the door closes behind them, Variant rises from his chair. His jaw is clenched, his hands balled into fists at his sides. In one fluid motion, he pulls the sword from its hilt at his waist and slices violently through the air until the sword meets the ice at the back of his throne. As the blade connects with the ice, chips fly across the space with a deafening shatter. He yells angrily before returning his sword to its scabbard. He swivels on his foot, his coattails flicking up behind him. His strides echo through the hall as he makes his way out of the room.

The vision shakes until the image of Variant fades to black and I blink, only to find myself returned to a bedroom, my hand still lightly gripping Eilish’s shoulder. Her eyes are open and she’s looking at me.

“When… What was…” I struggle to find the right questions.

“It was a vision,” Eilish answers softly.

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