Page 31 of The Shadows Beyond
Darcy gasped, knocking his hands out of the way. “It’s reacting badly to the aethraven. Cinn, I swear it was fine up until now. Elliot, get hot water, pronto. Julien, run to my bathroom cabinet and bring the entire box down here. Go!”
Cinn’s skin crawled like a thousand fire ants were gnawing on him at once.
“Why did you put the bangle back on me?” he said, to distract himself.
“You were writhing and screaming. Elliot had to hold you down. Then Julien made the call to bring you back.”
Elliot had likely enjoyed that experience. Would Cinn find giant bruises on his arms later?
Footsteps pounded on creaky floorboards, then both Julien and Elliot were back. Within moments, Darcy was pouring and rubbing various substances all over him, and the burning ceased.
Cinn moaned in relief, rubbing his face. His body ached like he’d just run a marathon.
“Well? What happened?” asked Elliot, and Cinn wanted to punch him.
Sitting upright, Cinn swung his legs over the edge of the table. A demand for another cigarette first danced on the tip of his tongue, but Julien’s desperate, hopeful face made him crack.
In as much detail as his energy level would allow, he described the whole absurd tale. When he got to the bit where Béatrice’s skin had seemed to melt in his hands before he awoke, he’d glanced at Julien, expecting to see disappointment, or even despair.
Instead, he saw only calculation.
Swiping it from the table, Julien held up Béatrice’s locket, swinging it like a pendulum. “What if we tried using an even stronger magnet item? That book you lent me has given me an idea for next time.”
“There will be nonext time, Julien,” Darcy flatly declared. “Just look at him!”
“But he saw her!” said Elliot. “Surely it’s worth another shot.”
Cinn looked to Julien, who was staring at his half-naked, shivering form, skin red and raw from both Darcy’s scrubbing and the ink. He ran his hand through his hair before stepping towards the table with pursed lips. “It’s up to Cinn.”
“The hell it is!” snapped Darcy.
At the same time as Cinn said, “I’m fine. I’m okay to try again. Not immediately, though.”
Darcy’s head whipped towards him. “Cinn, you know Julien will get that money to your friend now regardless, right? I personally assure you itwillget transferred.”
“I know that. I know he’ll send it,” he told her, and he believed it. “But I still want to try again. Today was the first time I’ve been in the dark place—shadowrealmor whatever—and felt a tiny bit of control. I could… do stuff there. Control the shadowmotes. They… they listened to me. I think I want to see what else I can do. I know Noir is going to help me, but the extra practice won’t hurt. Especially if it’s purposeful, like finding your friend. Though mostly, I don’t want to be scared of it anymore. I’m done with that. So if you promise that it’s safe, that I won’t bring anything back with me, I can try again for you.”
The three of them stared at him, mouths hanging open at his grand speech. To be fair, he’d stunned himself, with the length of time he’d held the floor.
“That’s all well and good, Cinn, but this… abnormal creature thing you described has me worried.” Darcy’s eyes flicked between the other two. “Could it be…?”
Frowning, Elliot pursed his lips and ran a hand through his shaggy mane of hair. “What did you say, Cinn? Shapeless black masses that turn into inky, octopus-like, giant-mouth things? That’s definitely not far off…”
“The form they take here could be different to there, anyway.” Darcy’s voice dropped to almost a whisper.
Cinn had been, yet again, left in the dark, and so snapped loudly, “What are you all on about now?”
Darcy hesitated, made a sound, but stopped when Julien raised his hand and gave her a tiny shake of his head.
Cinn’s entire body shook as he clenched both fists. “You must be joking? After what I just did for you?”
“He’s right, Julien.”
“It’s only that Eleanor wanted to explain everything to you herself personally, Cinn, in due course. About why you’re here.” Julien shifted uncomfortably, folding his arms. Could there be a hint of genuine sympathy in his eyes?
Throwing his hands up, Cinn shot daggers at each of them. “What do you mean, ‘why I’m here’? I’mherebecause I accidentally brought back a ghost that killed four people.”
An uneasy silence settled over the room.
