Page 18 of Fractured Shadows

We continue our journey through the forest, Grimus leading the way and Bracken taking up the rear when he isn’t dancing around and frolicking up trees. Every now and then, he darts into the darkness, only to return with some dead creature that had been stalking us. Whatever hesitation I had about Bracken disappears as more and more dead creatures and smaller monsters are placed at my feet. Despite his ulterior motives, he’s protecting me in his own way.

Hours later, when the humidity is high enough to make me feel as if I’m choking on heat, the ruins of some sort of structure rise from the foliage. I stare at the abandoned building in awe and confusion. The walls look like they were once more civilized, very much like those in the Gilded Lands. Soon after, more buildings appear, their stone walls left for nature to reclaim. It’s almost beautiful in a haunting sort of way.

“What is this place?” I whisper. The aura around us makes me feel as if I should be quiet. I don’t know why.

Grimus hardly glances at the buildings. “An old city. I don’t know what the name of it was. Monsters don’t hold much merit for names of ruins.”

“Blaenau,” Bracken supplies. “This city used to be called Blaenau.”

I glance back at him at the same time Grimus does. “You know it?”

“I was here before the wall was sealed, Goldie,” he answers, his tone sounding as ancient as his words. “I was here when the old king united all the races and made a deal with the humans to keep the peace.” He turns his head and points to a building with barely any walls left. “There used to be a tavern over there that sold the best soups.”

“What happened?” I ask, frowning. “If the old king united everyone, how are we now as separate as we can possibly be?”

Grimus snorts. “They don’t teach you your own history across the wall?”

I clench my fists. “Women aren’t allowed access to knowledge at all,” I answer. “But not even this is taught to the men, or else I would have heard of it, at least in passing.”

“The women aren’t allowed…” Grimus pulls in a long breath and falls silent, choosing not to address my admittance.

Bracken, not sensing the discomfort in the air, continues his story as if no one had spoken, his mind a million miles away with his memories.

“Humans betrayed the king,” he says. “Though there were treaties, humans always wanted more. They saw the magic we wielded and wanted it for themselves. War broke out. There was so much death in those days. Finally, the human king put up the barrier, blocking off our magic in a way that corrupted our land and those of us who reside here.” He tilts his head. “We aren’t held to the same timeline as you, Goldie. Some of us are eternal.”

“Unless I kill you,” Grimus mutters.

Bracken smiles as if Grimus said a particularly funny joke. “Unless the minotaur kills me,” he corrects.

Sadness overcomes me at his story, at the true history. I shouldn’t particularly trust Bracken, but his story rings true in my mind. I’d been up close to our king. Though he’s not the same one who betrayed the monsters, he possesses enough cruelty to do such a thing. Those in the Gilded Lands will do anything to keep their wealth and power, no matter who they step on to do so.

“Have any of the monsters ever tried to cross the barrier?” I ask, following Grimus as he keeps walking. My eyes fall over to the remnants of the tavern Bracken had mentioned, the temptation to stop and allow him his nostalgia strong, but we have little time for reminiscing.

“The magic of the barrier is unstable, but it’s effective at keeping us back.”

“The magic bites,” Bracken adds helpfully. “I once saw a naga try to cross and be flayed alive by the magic. However, it grows more erratic every day, draining more and more, until we’ll all be nothing but ash.”

Although he says the words cheerfully, there’s a prophecy in them, as if he knows his fate and sees it coming.

“But you have no magic left?” I ask curiously. “Grimus said—”

“Grimus is not all knowing, Goldie,” Bracken cuts me off. He holds up his hand between us, and as I watch, flames erupt from his palm. They are small at first before dancing into a flame big enough to roast a bit of meat. I watch as it flickers, the tips of the flames green in color, tinged with magic. “I was alive during the collapse,” he murmurs. The flames take the shape of some beast wearing a crown that looks suspiciously like a minotaur. I watch as it raises a sword in the air before the image explodes into a fiery butterfly, flapping its wings as it dances around Bracken’s palm. Wonder strikes me, and I find myself reaching toward the flames. When I touch them, they are cool. They don’t burn me, but the butterfly continues to dance before landing on the back of my hand. As I watch, it explodes into sparks and disappears completely. Only then do I realize I’ve essentially laid my hand in Bracken’s.

His fingers close over mine, but I’m not scared. Some instinct, despite our beginnings, is telling me to trust the fey. Either I’ve lost my mind, or my instincts have grown stronger. I don’t really know, but I don’t pull my hand away.

“Your magic is…” I can’t find the words. There are none that fit.

“You have your own magic, Goldie,” he purrs. “You just have to learn how to harness it.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I can do the same thing with blood. Would you like to see?”

Somehow, his words bring a smile to my face, and at my expression, his eyes widen. “Maybe later,” I respond. “For now, let’s get to the mountains.”

Bracken blinks and then willingly releases my hand after a final, lingering touch. “Yes,” he murmurs. “Yes, to our next destination.”

As I turn back to a thoughtful Grimus, I swear I see the very tip of a pearlescent white tail out of the corner of my eye, but when I go to follow the movement, there’s nothing there. When Bracken doesn’t rush off into the trees, I assume there’s no threat and keep walking forward.

This time, Bracken stays just a little closer to my back, and Grimus doesn’t stray as far. Something in me shifts, and I find myself truly smiling while traipsing through the Dead Lands.

As if my clock isn’t ticking.

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