No Longer

Dakshana’s scream caught in her throat, and she drove her spear forward. Chadstone sidestepped her neatly, and then everything -- dissolved. Minka’s scream cut off, and she began to waver before Dakshana’s eyes, like heat off a dry rock. The other villagers began to waver and fade, like dying flames. The world around Dakshana dissolved, and she was left standing, spear in hand, in a massive stone cavern. Chadstone tossed his head, and he was dressed in soft leather breaches, a metal blade at his side.

“What happened?” Dakshsana demanded.

Chadstone stepped closer to her. “We’re no longer playing my game.”

Wasn't My Trick

“If I truly were a demon, and it was that easy, your world would have been rid of shadows long ago,” Chadstone said.

Dakshana took a deep breath and stepped out of her hut, spear in hand. “So it was a trick, you letting me go?”

“Yes, it was a trick,” Chadstone said.

Dakshana’s grip on the spear tightened. “What will stop us all from killing you?”

“The fact that it wasn’t my trick,” he said, and threw.

Dakshana stared at the red stain that blossomed across the front of Minka’s dress, spreading outward from the spear in her chest.

A Bit of Spirit

Dakshana heard Minka’s voice, the whistle of a spear, and then she was on her feet, out the door.

Chadstone had caught the spear and he twirled it absently, tracing a complicated pattern in the air. The Elders looked shocked and awed at his skill. His smile was amused, and the way his gaze was dark, hooded was dangerous.


“So hostile, sweet girl. I do enjoy someone with a bit of spirit, if you’d like to try me on for size --”

“Away, demon!” Minka cried, and her wand wove the sign against evil.

Chadstone laughed, the sound musical and heartbreaking.

Seek Elsewhere

Chadstone had an obsidian-tipped spear at hand; the villagers would be suspicious of a metal blade.

“My village is in the mountains in the far north,” he said. The Elders hovered around him, obsequious. He could see more than a few curious maidens peering out of doorways at him, and some mothers watching him anxiously as well.

“What brings you here?” an Elder asked.

“My village traditions are different from those in the sunlit lands, and we send our hunters on quests to seek wives alone.”

A spear whistled through the air at him. Minka said, “Seek elsewhere, stranger.”

Never Too Cautious

Dakshana huddled deeper beneath her furs - they weren’t nearly as soft as the furs Chadstone had wrapped her in, as he brought her back from the dead - and tried to ignore the growing noise outside. She reached for the spear she’d set beside her bed just in case, but it didn’t sound like an angry mob, and there was no sign of fire, but she couldn’t be too cautious.

When she saw shadows pass her windows, she rolled up into a crouch and scooped up her spear.

The Elders were outside. One of them said,

“What village are you from?”

As He Pleased

Once the sun was down, Chadstone could do as he pleased. It was easy to close his eyes, toss his head, and shimmer into being dressed in the simple furs of a hunter. If he chose he could cloak himself in the mortals’ dull blacks and browns, but he was born of stone and shining whites and blues, and he didn’t care if the mortals stared. None of them would understand what he was until it was too late. Maybe Minka and Srina had told, but no one would believe Srina and Minka was too smart for that. He smiled.

As If

All day Dakshana worked, and in the evening she shared her meal-fire with Minka and Srina. She could feel eyes on her whenever she was outside of Srina’s house, but she didn’t care.

When all the work was done, she lay in the darkness of her own home and stared up at the ceiling. It was if she had never been gone at all, but for the more intense staring. Minka and Srina said nothing of what had happened to them, and Dakshana wondered how much the Elders were behind it, determined to stamp out any hints of magic.

Very Faraway

Chadstone wished Dakshana could make that promise, but she wouldn’t; she was too practical for that.

Dakshana patted Srina’s back awkwardly. “I’m home, all right? Your weaving will improve now that I’m here to wind your shuttles. Now come on - back to work. You want hunters to see your work, right? So you can marry?”

Srina asked, “Will you find a hunter?”

“I think I’ll spend time as a Storyteller,” Dakshana said.

Minka nodded. “You could find a hunter from a faraway tribe.”

“A very faraway tribe,” Dakshana said, and cast her glance toward shadows.

Chadstone wished she saw him.

What Will Be

Once the shamans were done, Chadstone sketched a spell in the air to follow them, then turned to seek Dakshana once more. He was alarmed at the way Srina cried so easily and was glad, momentarily, that he’d let her escape early.

Dakshana looked equally alarmed, but hugged Srina warily. “He didn’t hurt me,” she said, and Chadstone felt something strange, warm spread through his limbs.

“But he wanted to,” Srina wailed into Dakshana’s shoulder.

Minka glared at the wall, then rolled her eyes. “Stop making a scene and start weaving. Dakshana’s back, and now everything will be fine.”

“Promise?”

Inexplicable

More than one girl had stopped by Srina’s weaving loom to show off her bracelet or necklace as a token from the hunter who had chosen her. Dakshana ignored the sneers on their faces and continued winding flax for her friend. In the corner, Minka watched the other girls with stormy eyes, daring them to utter an unkind word.


The first who did was chased out by a flung spool of flax. Dakshana was horrified. Minka laughed.

After an inexplicable moment, Srina began to cry. “Dakshana!” she cried. “You’re safe! I was worried about you! I thought he hurt you --”

One Thing He Could Handle

Chadstone could feel the magic the shamans wielded as they muttered and let their eyes water in scented smoke. It was tainted magic they used. As dark and craven as shadows might have been, their magic was - natural. Part of the order of the world. The power bartered for by souls and blood was unnatural.

What of the magic Dakshana had received from the Ancients?

Chadstone could hear their hatred in their spells, and he knew the danger was imminent, though from which plane he could not begin to tell. One thing he could handle was mortals. He was ready.

Watching

Dakshana could feel the villagers watching her as she headed down to the river with Minka and Srina to help them wash their bowls. She was going to treat this as any other day - she would help Srina with weaving, Minka with her daily allotment of chores. The villagers had stared her entire life. She’d thought she could ignore it, but now that she knew - it made her so angry. They’d let the elders murder her parents and then spent the rest of her life condemning her.

She shook her head. They didn’t matter. They weren’t as dangerous as shadows.

So Many Others

Chadstone could see the mortal shamans of Dakshana’s clan hovered outside of the hut where she’d lived all her life. The other villagers watched and waited as well, and Chadstone could see the avarice on their faces. They’d hoped her dead, to pick over what little she had left in the world.

It made him smile, ache to see his crystal at her throat when she stepped into the sunlight.

He watched those shamans, because he knew their greed, their craven souls. So many others had come to the Shadows before, wanting gifts and securing purchases instead.

So many others.

Something Bigger

Minka and Srina hovered beside her while she scooped rice and lentils out of a bowl with a crooked spoon. Dakshana closed her eyes and savored the flavor, the texture of the food. She drank water like a boy and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and how had she gone without this?

“Are you all right?” Minka asked softly. “Did he - hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” Dakshana said. “I --” She couldn’t say she escaped - he’d let her go. What had gone on? There had been something going on, something bigger than Chadstone’s game.

But she was free.

Mottled Spots of Nothingness

Chadstone slid through the shadows on the edge of the trees. He chose a wrong path and crossed beneath a gap in the bows. Sunlight dappled between the leaves and left mottled spots of nothingness where his skin used to be. Sunlight didn’t kill shadows; in the sun, shadows merely vanished.

Chadstone drew his hand back from the light - he could feel it, in the sunlight, knew it was there, but he just couldn’t see it. He smiled sadly at his own form and then continued along the edge of the trees - he wouldn’t leave Dakshana alone in the village.

What Counts

Dakshana looked down at the crystal in the woman’s hand. Chadstone’s crystal. Even in the harshness of human daylight it shimmered with ancient magic and runes. She shook her head - it wasn’t evil, but it was alive. It pulsed, like the beating of a heart.

“My husband died because he had one of these!” the old woman cried. “You’ll die too - and everyone who touches you!”

“Then you’d better let her go,” Minka said firmly.

The villagers recoiled.

“When was the last time you ate?” Minka asked. She guided Dakshana up the hill.

“I don’t think it counts,” Dakshana said.

Spilling Visions

“I’ll find her,” Chadstone said. He reached up and curled a fist at his throat, but it was an empty gesture, because his crystal was gone. Dakshana wouldn’t understand its significance, but he would always be able to find her.

The Ancient tipped the bowl over, spilling visions across the stone floor, and the rest of the shadows faded into the darkness.

Chadstone waited until they were gone before he dismantled his dimension. Then he set about casting a traveling circle. He could survive in the mortal realms a little longer, watching, waiting. He’d watched for a long, long time.

Crystal Evil

Dakshana held her chin high. “I survived because I was a child - it was Ashoken who made a pact with the dark gods and was punished for it.”

The villagers’ whispers rose to an angry hiss.

An old woman lunged out of the crowd with a shriek. “You! Cease your evil words!”


After a moment, Dakshana recognized her as Ashoken’s widow.

“Please,” Srina said, tugging on Dakshana’s arm.

“You’re the evil one!” the widow cried. She reached out and caught Dakshana by the throat, tried to drag her forward. “See? She wears a sign of evil!”

Evil was a crystal.

No Mortal Heart

Chadstone stood tall and allowed the Ancients’ their scrutiny. The realization of what he was - a creation for one of their games, part of a lifelong elaborate entertainment - would have stopped a mortal’s heart, but he was no mortal and had no heart. They might have created him as a piece in their game, but he’d been created by the laws of the shadows and he knew those rules as innately as they did. If they thought they could outsmart him, they were wrong.

He’d already outsmarted them.

“Perhaps, boy, you should see about getting your prey back,” one said.

Think It Strange

The elders exchanged looks, and some of the villagers began whispering among each other.

“Dakshana,” Srina began, but Dakshana shrugged her off and stepped forward.

“Why would that matter?” Dakshana asked. “Or are you just looking for an excuse to burn me to death the same way you did my parents?”

The elders looked affronted. One of them stepped into Dakshana’s space. “How dare you, after we kept you --”


“Did none of you think it strange, that Ashoken was so eager to burn them, and then he vanished in a magic circle?”

“You survived the deaths,” the elder said. “You.”

Cardinal Rules

The memory struck him suddenly and fiercely, of stumbling upon a just-finished ceremony, of finding a mortal child’s toy.

The Ancient’s smile was cruel and amused, and Chadstone felt a sudden tightening at his throat, as if a noose had just been pulled closed over his existence.

“She is part of your game, then,” he said slowly, deliberately, while his mind raced. And suddenly he understood. It was a cardinal rule, that two games could not have the same prey.

Games could, however, have more than one soul for prey. Only Chadstone didn’t have a soul.

“I understand now.”

Ghost of Fingertips

“Safe,” Dakshana echoed. She cast a glance around the forest - it was night, and the moon above cast menacing shadows along the ground. “Let’s just go back to the village, please.”

“Wait,” one of the elders said. “We must perform a ritual - ensure you have not been tainted.”

Dakshana’s eyes narrowed. “If Minka and Srina were unharmed, it should stand to reason that I, too, am unharmed.”

“Yes,” the elder hedged, “but you were gone much longer.”

Dakshana drew herself up straighter. She could feel the tingle of magic up her spine, the ghost of Chadstone’s fingertips. “Does that matter?”

First

“There are rules,” Chadstone said, voice cold and soft, dangerous. Whatever vulnerability he’d felt with Dakshana in his arms is gone. He wasn’t human, and he wouldn’t buckle because they’d been in existence longer than him.

“The rules dictate that she is mine. I caught her in my web.”

He was unmoved by their laughter.

“On the contrary, Little One - we caught her in our web first.”

A bowl appeared in mid-air, filled itself with water, mirrored over to offer a vision. Chadstone stared at the little girl in the middle of a summoning circle, clutching a straw doll.

Home

Dakshana batted their hands away and pushed herself to her feet.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry - I’m fine.” She turned and saw Minka, watching her intently, tears in her eyes, her expression stubbornly unmoved. “Are you all right?”

“Minka’s been home for a week,” Srina said.

“A week?” Dakshana echoed.

Minka wrapped a fur cloak around Dakshana’s shoulders and led her out of the cave. “Come on - let’s get you home.”

The rest of the villagers parted their ranks, watching Dakshana warily. One of them made the sign against evil, and Minka hissed at them.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Srina said.

Collection

Chadstone turned to face his elders. They arrived in shadows and mist, rolling around the edges of the dimension he’d created to keep Dakshana from their prying eyes for a little longer.

“Well?” Chadstone lifted his head and met their gazes, every inch the arrogant and proud personification.

“You know, then,” the Ancient said. His eyes gleamed, crocodile-hungry.

Chadstone didn’t know at all, but he nodded once, sharply.

“We gave her her life in exchange for the mortal man’s,” the Ancient said, “and we gave her the magic as a gift. We’re just here to collect on our investment.”

Escaped

For a split second, Dakshana was suspended, hanging in mid-air between worlds, her feet on clouds or mist or soft fur, vines tangled at her wrists and tugging gently. Voices swirled around her, singing, calling.

And then she was standing on dirt and rock. A cave. And there were hands at her wrists dragging her forward, almost tugging her arms out of her sockets. There were voices around her, crying, shouting.

Arms were flung around her from both sides, and she was smothered in the scent of human and girl and then Srina said,

“You’re safe now. You escaped!”