Page 53 of Ties of Shadow

“This stuff is magic! Watch!” He fell into a city jig, one I had seen the servants do only after the nobles had gone to bed in a stupor and the musicians were relaxing in the kitchen. “I feel amazing. Better than I have in years!”

The Shade crossed his arms, falling back into a professional assessment. “We’ll document how long it takes to wear off. And be on the lookout for unwanted complications.”

Uncle Koll was not to be put off. He waved his hands, as though brushing crumbs off the table. “Sure, science, research, blah. But make me some more. I feel ten—no, twenty years younger!” He pulled the potion from his pocket. “Number 117. This is the one!” Uncle Koll passed the glass vial to the Shade and pulled me into a dance, spinning and laughing.

“Let’s celebrate!” he declared. “I’ll get the wine. And my pie should be cool by now.”

“Everything is better with pie.” I grinned.

“Come, come!”

I headed toward the step and saw the Shade take a small sip of the potion, shaking his head as he tucked it into his pocket. His eyes met mine, and he gestured toward the stairs. “Ladies first.”

What did the Shade need with the potion?

He pressed me forward. “Don’t forget to bolster your thoughts back up, Dayspring. But I’m always happy to hear all of you. Anytime.” He smiled warmly at me as we meandered down the hallway. Just before the doorframe, he pulled me back. “And…” He dragged a hand over his face. “I think, if this potion works, we should bring itto the queen. And perhaps…perhaps we could also share the light somehow.”

I leaned and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “We only do all or nothing, Shadespring. Not just perhaps. I want you to be certain.”

He chuckled at his words being thrown back at him. “Let’s do it.”

“More work ahead.” My fingers ached at the thought, but my heart leapt. Perhaps we could do some good and actually help the queen. Maybe we could help all the people, instead of being the end of the world that the prophecy claimed we were.

“More work. More time with you.” He clasped his hands around mine.Mine.“I can’t wait.”

Chapter twenty-two

Not the Mines

Working on the potion felt more important than ever. Before, everything had been a trial and experiment, a giant maybe-but-probably-not-going-to-work moment, a held breath, but now that the potion was effective and safe, and Uncle Koll was thriving—and without yellow spots—we pushed to produce as much potion as we could. Since we could stop experimenting, we needed fewer racerbristles, and they began to recover nicely between their trimmings. The Shade—ever the menacing botanist—found a way to keep the cloudy mossweed alive around the cavern the spyrings had used to break through, and it soon covered every inch of the cavern entrance. Several of the animals worked with me all the time, constantly bustling through, watering, weeding, and cleaning up the dead leaves. The baby skunks rolled through our work regularly, bringing us a bit of laughter.

Uncle Koll had felt so good that he was always outside now and had taken over the landscaping. The rooms shook periodically when he used his earthen magic to reform stone, lift a rise, or carve a statue for the gardens. He made a stone pergola with intricate carvings from the red stone around us. For someone I first thought frail and weak, Uncle Koll was proving himself to be quite the loamer powerhouse. Every time the windows rattled, the Shade and I would just look ateach other and laugh. His relief flooded through me. As he pinched off a leaf, he thought,“I worried I was killing him by staying this close to the castle and the mountains…now he’s full of power again.”He laughed aloud.“Though he is so raucous as he plays, I hope he doesn’t bring down the manor.”

Jamison and I settled into a truce of sorts. He glared and stood watch when he wasn’t out catching dinner, and periodically, I heard him mutter something about smiling and propriety. But when he flitted around Uncle Koll in the evenings as the man danced through the dinner preparations, I knew the bat was as happy as we were that Uncle Koll was hale again.

Finally, we had finished creating a three-month supply box of potions—one for every five days—and a box of glass cubes, with instructions and dollops of sugar. The box was signed “Ever yours, the Shade.” His amusement still flickered every time he pointed it out to me.

The final day came, and the Shade started us off with an evening feast. “It is a long journey through the earth to the castle,” he touted as his reason.

“Through the earth? Why not go directly through the forest?”

“The forests are watched, and the gates are guarded,”Jamison chirped.“Unless you’re trying to get Master’s head on a platter instead of your own.”

I cast him a glare before stirring my peas. “Through then.” I shuddered at the memory of our last expedition. “Doesn’t mean I look forward to the dark and narrow.”

“Thankfully, the mine tunnels are bigger and wider, and the monsters have likely fled the area.”

“Or were killed by the soldiers,”Jamison added. The Shade nodded grimly.

I hugged myself. “You know I don’t like the dark.”

The Shade sipped his tea. “But why, though?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Being alone in the storms. Monsters under the bed. The howls of scary wolves and…once I was left in a well.” The lone gray mother wolf that had wandered up gave me a concerned look. I petted the top of her head, my fingers threading through the fur right behind her ears. “Back at my first home. A group of boys told me I was the only one small enough to go down and save a cat that had fallen in, and of course, I said yes. After they lowered me down, they pulled up the bucket. I was there for hours and hours before someone found me.” The room was still; the Shade’s anger boiled in my chest, and even Jamison’s jaw dropped with horror. “But I got out.” I shrugged, trying to move everyone forward. “The dark is also full of beasts and ghosts.”

“I admit, not even I would leave you in a well.”Jamison rewrapped himself with his wings.“Probably.”

The Shade set down his glass and looked out the window. The twilight sky was pricked with the earliest stars as the clouds reflected the last of the sunlight in pinks and purples. “Darkness isn’t evil. Darkness is a cozy blanket, a safe place to rest. It’s peace and quietness. It’s cool water when the world grows too hot. Without the darkness, you cannot see the stars. Without the darkness, you wouldn’t see half our friends.” He glanced at me. “And every beautiful portrait uses the darkness as a stunning contrast to add depth.”

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