Page 22

The Shadow Between Us

T he heavy door groaned in protest as I pushed it open, its rusted hinges echoing through the silent library.

A draft of stale, dust-laden air greeted me as I stepped into the western alcove, where the glow of enchanted lanterns flickered dimly against the cold stone walls.

Faded motifs, their meanings lost to time, stretched along the archways, whispering of forgotten knowledge.

My fingers tightened around the edge of my robe as I moved deeper, the towering shelves around me crammed with ancient, leather-bound tomes that exuded the scent of parchment and ink.

The dim light cast elongated shadows, and as I weaved through the narrow passage between the shelves, I felt the weight of the past pressing in.

The Raven’s Echo hummed faintly against my collarbone, a presence both familiar and unsettling. My pale fingers skimmed over cracked spines, seeking something—anything—that might confirm what I already suspected.

Then, my breath caught.

Nestled between tomes of forgotten wars and cryptic alchemical studies, I found it—a manuscript brittle with age, its cover embossed with an insignia I recognized from Lydia’s notes. My hands trembled slightly as I pulled it free, careful not to damage its fragile bindings.

I pulled a candelabra from the table nearby and sat myself against the ancient shelves. Pulling my knees to my chest, I set the candle on the floor and began to gently skim through the pages, scanning for anything that looked familiar.

The pages were somehow pristine, as if the book had not been opened in centuries. The sprawling diagrams and esoteric symbols sent a shiver down my spine.

Imogen and Elsbeth weren’t traitors. They never meant anyone harm. They were doing everything they could to protect our realm. But power and greed are undeniable forces when it comes to those with a weak heart.

The illustrations showed seven artifacts arranged in a circle—their names inscribed in an archaic script I could barely decipher.

The Sable Sigil, The Celestial Compass, The Solstice Charm.

.. and there, fourth in the sequence, The Raven’s Echo.

My fingers instinctively rose to touch the pendant at my throat, which seemed to warm in response.

"Turn the page, my dear," its voice purred like velvet against my thoughts.

I glanced around anxiously before following the amulet’s command. The next page uncovered a detailed description of the Umbra Gate, its creation, and a building I didn’t recognize. It seemed to be some kind of tomb.

A page came loose from the binding, revealing a handwritten letter. Parts of it were so faded they were nearly illegible.

‘My beautiful Daughter,

I write these words with a heavy heart and firm determination.

It has come to light that four of the seven Vale relics remain—concealed, as they are, within the delicate boundary of our reality.

Their presence, lost in the landscapes of memories, must be found.

The cursed amulets among them must be destroyed, as their evil threatens to infiltrate our world.

The ancient keys must stay locked away forever, their secrets secured by unbreakable spells, lest they unleash chaos that could consume us all.

Two of the amulets are thought to have been destroyed by Imogen herself, but I have kept the Raven’s Echo close to my heart over the years.

I must now entrust it to you. Protect it with your life, for in the wrong hands, the guidance it offers could be catastrophic.

Let this letter serve as both a warning and a guide.

Safeguard these truths and proceed with utmost caution.

My dear, I am sorry I cannot return to you.’

I traced my finger over the nameless signature, willing it to reveal itself, but the ink remained stubbornly faded. The letter trembled in my hand, and I carefully folded it, tucking it into the inner pocket of my jacket, close to my heart.

"Who were you?" I whispered to the faded ink. "And how did you come to possess my amulet?"

"Careful, Elvana. Some questions invite unwanted attention."

My skin prickled at the weight of the amulet’s warning, each word a whisper along my spine.

I returned the book to its place on the shelf. My heart hammered against my ribs as I considered the implications. Two artifacts destroyed. Four hidden. One—my pendant—passed down through generations to me.

The candle’s flame wavered, casting distorted shadows across the floor. For a moment, I swore one of them took the shape of a raven’s wing, stretching across the ancient stones. I pressed my nails into my palms, trying to slow my breath.

A soft creak from behind startled me. I whirled around, extinguishing the candle with a quick wave of my hand.

“—Not something to be discussed so openly,” a voice cut through the stillness, low and sharp as a blade. “You’re being careless, Norwood.”

“I’m being practical ,” came the reply—Samael, unmistakably. His tone was clipped, strained with tension. “The texts mention all seven artifacts. She only has one. If we can find the others—”

“She won’t find them,” Edric snapped, his voice colder than before.

Their footsteps echoed closer, quick and deliberate across the stone floor. I pressed deeper into the shadows between the library shelves, barely breathing. The Raven’s Echo flared warm against my chest—warning, pulsing like a heartbeat.

“She’s already asking questions,” Samael said, quieter now but no less intense. “I saw her sketching the runes from her amulet during breakfast. She's circling the truth.”

“And your brilliant idea is what?” Edric’s voice dripped with disdain. “Beat her to them? Lock them up and hope she doesn’t notice? The girl’s a Vale. The more pressure you apply, the deeper she’ll dig.”

They paused just beyond my hiding place. Through the gap in the shelves, I glimpsed Samael’s profile, his jaw tense in the dim light. The intricate dragon tattoo on his forearm seemed to writhe as he gestured emphatically.

“Better they’re found by someone we can watch,” Edric continued, his voice hardening. “Keep your friends close, Samael.”

A heavy silence followed, settling like dust between the shelves. I held my breath, the sound of my own heartbeat roaring in my ears.

“I wish you’d reconsider,” Edric said at last, his voice quieter now. “Some doors, once opened…”

“...were never meant to remain closed,” Samael finished for him, his voice flat. “That’s where we differ.”

Edric’s silver eyes caught the low firelight—cold and reflective, like moonlight off steel. “So be it. But remember this: the Vale artifacts don’t just reveal secrets. They change those who seek them.”

He adjusted his sleeve, revealing a faded scar just above his wrist—brief, deliberate.

“I’ll return tomorrow with the texts from the eastern archives,” he said. “Until then—try not to lose yourself in the hunt.”

“Always do,” Samael replied, dismissive, distant.

Edric turned, his footsteps fading like whispers against stone as he disappeared into the labyrinth of bookshelves. The weight of their conversation hung in the air, pressing against my lungs until I was afraid to breathe.

Then Samael's head tilted, almost imperceptibly. His posture shifted, shoulders tensing like a predator catching a scent. Slowly, deliberately, he turned toward my hiding place.

The smoke from my extinguished candle rose in a telltale wisp, a betraying silver finger pointing directly to where I crouched in the shadows. I pressed myself deeper against the shelf, feeling the sharp edges of ancient tomes digging into my back.

He moved with unsettling grace; each step measured as he approached. The dragon tattoo on his arm seemed to watch me, its inked eyes following my every movement. In the dim light, his face was all angles and shadows, unreadable except for the intensity in his dark eyes.

My hand instinctively slid into my satchel, fingers closing around the cool glass vial nestled there—Wraith’s Kiss. I quietly removed the cork with shaking hands and poured the contents of the vial into my mouth.

The taste of peppermint and ash coated my tongue, a fleeting agony that quickly gave way to an otherworldly numbness. I felt the potion work its wonders, as if my very essence melted into the surrounding gloom. In moments, my outline blurred, and I became a shadow among shadows.

Samael’s footsteps slowed, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the darkness where I hid. The intensity in his gaze searched for something familiar—a glimmer of movement, a hint of warmth.

My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat echoing like a distant drum, as I remained perfectly still amongst the tomes. My lungs burned with the effort of holding my breath, the invisibility potion’s effects wrapping me in a cocoon of borrowed shadows.

Samael took another step forward, his eyes scanning the space where I should be.

The distance between us shrank to mere inches.

So close that I could see the flecks of emerald in his otherwise dark eyes, count the faint scars that marked his jawline.

The scent of sandalwood and mint emanated from him as he extended a hand into the seemingly empty space.

“ Curious ,” he murmured, his voice like velvet dragged across stone—soft, but dangerous in its friction.

His fingers hovered inches from my face, close enough to feel the static tension between us. I pressed back into the bookshelf, the ancient wood groaning beneath me in warning.

The sound made him pause. His eyes narrowed—not surprised, only confirming something he already knew.

“I know you’re there,” he whispered, his breath brushing against the space where my cheek should’ve been. “The real question is… who are you hiding from? Me —or yourself?”

And then, disaster.

A spider—fat, glossy, and perfectly timed—descended on a silvery thread between us, its legs twitching as it hung suspended in the air.

Before I could stop myself, I flinched—hard.