Page 18 of Ties of Shadow

“Jamison Harold Crocus Marcus Delaney the Third.”The bat stretched out his arms widely—almost like a man flexing—before nestling back together.“I’m supposed to tell the master when you awaken.”

Icy fear slid down my spine. “And then what?”

Jamison fluttered and flapped irregularly off the perch, then around the hall, before ducking through the tall, arched door.“Breakfast, I presume.”

Breakfast. I blinked several times before shifting my legs off the glorious bed and onto the cold floor. The difference in temperature came as a shock. Beside me, the lamp flickered on with a whoosh, revealing plush slippers tucked along the bedside. Slipping my toes inside, I grabbed the fluffy violet robe that hung outside a nearby armoire. I hugged myself, nestling into the cozy fabric.

“The master will see you now.”Jamison chirped, now dangling from the doorway threshold.

“See me.” My eyes widened. “I had hoped…that is… Could I take breakfast in here?”

“Ha,”the bat scoffed.“No. In no uncertain terms. Come now.”

“But I’m not dressed.” I pulled down the black nightdress that fell to mid-calf, exposing the lower half of my legs. “I need to change.”

“Humans and their garments.”Jamison rolled his black eyes.“Do you see me in a huff about my fur? No. Come as you are. Or else I shall fetch the master, and he won’t be pleased at all.”

I shivered at the threat. “Okay. As I am. Right.” I tried to brush my fingers through my hair, but it was so tangled and chaotic that I only succeeded in removing a small leaf that lingered from my recent flight. I stepped gingerly, waiting for the moment my injuries would waylay me, but it never came. I felt well. Healthier than I’d felt in a long time—especially considering the attack of the Shade and all my treks over the last couple weeks, not to mention my flight from the temple. My lungs expanded fully without a cough. My body seemed healed, and I wasn’t fatigued in the slightest. How in the seven stars could that be?

Despite the massive torches that lit the walls, the hallway was long and dark. The floor was full of natural shadows but remained remarkably spotless. No spiderwebs arched the corners, and the wall sconces gleamed. The Shade seemed a clean villain, at least. Doorways took off under tall archways on either side, but still, no windows. I shuddered in the darkness and paced closer toward the lamps on the walls, gripping my barely shining necklace.

My slippers shuffled, the echo expanding down the cavernous halls around us. Jamison chirped intermittently as he flitted about, taking the lead. Black spiked masks lined the walls, their deep and vacant eyes watching my every step. Several hallways diverged from the main one, but the bat continued straight ahead until the pitch of the echoes changed, and we entered a massive dining hall.

A long table with ten seats on each side sat alone, dwarfed by the room. The ceiling was carved with coffered stone and sparsely lit with chandeliers. The table was black walnut stained black, with matching black high-backed chairs.

At the head of the table sat the Shade. A raven glared from the corner of his chair, his beak clacking in a menacing croak. Shadows billowed on the tile around him, shifting, watching. My legs seized with terror, and I froze in the doorway. My heart raced as fast as the wings of my batty escort as he flew to a lamp along the wall.

The Shade’s irises were shadowed in black before flickering back to green. He extended his hand toward me, and I flinched. His eyes narrowed as he gestured to the chair near him. “Won’t you sit?” A thick arm of smoke reached toward me, wrapped around the legs of the chair, and pulled it back for me. The shadow rose and patted twice upon the cushion.

A thousand retorts filled my brain at once; my throat was dry and sticky. Instead, I politely shook my head and dipped into a wobbly curtsy.

The edge of his lips turned upward. “Are you not hungry?” My gaze latched upon those lips as tingles burst on my own at the intrusive memory. He had kissed me. I had kissed the enemy. I hadn’t planned on being so desperate while dying.

“Well?”

I shook my head again. “Not particularly, my lord.” I dipped into another curtsy. Surely that’s what one must do to survive this encounter, right? Be polite to Death. Though, at this rate, I would curtsy myself to an early grave. Against my will, my stomach gurgled loudly, nearly echoing off the cold stones of the dining room.

The Shade lifted a brow. “Sit anyway.”

“Yes, alright.”

Something shoved me from behind, a fuzzy warmth that pushed me toward the seat. Fear seized my leg muscles, and I stumbled. A growl rumbled from the large black wolf that had nudged me, and hestalked past me toward the Shade. Spinning once, the wolf lay with his head on his paws, his orange gaze piercing mine.

Scurrying now, I collapsed into the chair. The shadow scooched it in for me, and I desperately coaxed my diaphragm to breathe normally.

“Eat.” The Shade’s voice rumbled.

I glanced down at the covered tray and reached for the metal handle when a white owl on silent wings flashed before me, grasped the loop, and lifted the top of the platter. The owl then flitted over to a side table and set down the metal cover before returning to its resting spot.

That’s when I noticed the eyes—so many eyes. Under the side table, a dozen black glittering eyes peered out from six gray fuzzy creatures with naked tails and pointy teeth. A basket beside them held a few fat rat-like creatures who wiggled their noses at me, their backs covered in spikes. A flap drew my attention to the ceiling where fifty bats of various sizes hung upside down, some as big as my thumb, others larger than my arm, all unblinkingly watching me. An armored creature—like a groundhog with a tail but covered with dragon-scale plates—lumbered down the edge of the wall, standing up on its hind legs with its clawed hands together. It licked its maw with satisfaction as it blinked at me. Crows inhabited various coat stands around the room, along with a few more owls, and the ugliest bird I had ever seen, with a wide beak and a flattened head. A smaller version peaked between the feathers of its belly.

What in all the world was happening here? The evil Shade collects…what? Animal sacrifices?

“Eat,” the Shade said again, making me jump. I reached my shaky hand toward a fork in obedience. My plate was covered with what looked like eggs scrambled with unrecognizable vegetables. My nostrils flared. It smelled…good.

“It is good,” he muttered. “Made with eggplant, onion, diced potato, and tomatoes.” He stabbed his fork into the mixture and took a bite. “The finest of the nightshades.”

I blanched again. “Nightshade?” The poisonous plant my father used in tiny pieces as medicine? I’d only ever eaten potato; the other names were foreign to me.

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