Page 3 of Shaedes of Power (Soul Magic #1)

CHAPTER 3

T he lady with the hidden food had seen the spill and miraculously produced a large stack of paper napkins from the depths of her bag. I cleaned up the mess and went to find the others, knowing now I had enough human interaction to journal about for days.

Leyanna and Dru were easily found on the next floor, thumbing aimlessly through titles they had never read, more than ready to go. We traded the stagnant library air for a humid night breeze. Anything was better than the sweaty heat of the day, so I welcomed its caress.

“Does anyone have any idea of what they are going to say to the High Shaedes when we get back?” asked Leyanna into the night. It wasn’t fully dark, and the city never sleeps anyway, so the streets were now a blur of headlights and shiny nightwear. “I’m not asking to compare notes or copy or anything; I’m just generally curious if either of you have a response ready for when they ask us what we have learned.”

We were walking slowly, in no hurry to get back to the tiny, third-floor walkup that was nothing more than three beds crammed on one side and a small kitchen and bathroom on the other.

“My bedroom,” I randomly offered, thinking about that game we were playing earlier. My thoughts had been scrambled since the library. “That is what I truly miss. I miss my bed, lying there watching the starlight, never being too cold or too hot. My drawings. My clothing. Magic. I guess I really do miss it all. And as for the High Shaedes, I am convincing myself that it doesn’t really matter what we say. We came, we experienced, and we will serve the faerie courts and protect the human realm like every faerie before us. Our feelings about these humans hardly factor into what the Balance may call us to do.” I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I was weirdly angry about the whole situation with Farris—angry that he was openly pursuing me, angry that I kind of liked it, and mostly angry because I had such little control over my magic and broke the rules. Maybe it wasn’t even anger, maybe it was shame.

“That sounds a little bleak, even for you,” said Dru. “And I want to go on record of stating that I, too, miss my bedroom. No offense, but sleeping next to you two is definitely something that made the journal—and not in a good way.”

“That’s fair,” allowed Leyanna.

We continued for a few more steps and then turned onto a less busy street, still blocks away from home. Although the sky was still a dusty periwinkle color, the buildings on this street cast dark shadows on the ground. Without looking up, you would have thought it was midnight. A couple passed us, obviously dressed for a romantic evening out, and a man on a bicycle blitzed by. But other than that, there were no other people out. The shade over the street caused the temperature to dip drastically, and for the first time in weeks, I actually felt a little chill—only it wasn’t a chill. It was something I had only felt once before. The others had suddenly stopped walking as well.

“What is that?” Leyanna asked intently.

“Dark magic,” I whispered, as if I didn’t want it to hear me. We took a few more steps down the street and peered into the nearest alley. There was nothing there, but the magic was getting stronger. It felt foreign, alien, wrong. It didn’t belong in the faerie realm, let alone the human realm, for it belonged to the darkness, to the dark fae of the Shadowlands. The only time I had ever experienced it before was when a dark faerie emissary was allowed to visit the Shaede Court when I was maybe five? But the experience of being near a being of such unnatural coldness was a feeling I was never ever going to forget.

We kept close together and made it silently to the next alley. We could hear it before we could see it. At the back of the alley, among more litter and discarded furniture, we heard a panting noise. It was a winded, hungry, growling noise reverberating off the surrounding buildings’ walls. We moved closer, slowly, Dru with her two small knives drawn that were always strapped somewhere hidden on her body. The sounds of grunting and panting quickly changed to the cracking of bones, the snapping of tendons, and sopping wet licking. Whatever it was, it was so intent on eating its prey that it was too late by the time it noticed we were upon it.

Dru lunged at it, a knife aimed with pinpoint precision directly at its spine. Its back arched in pure agony, flinging her back and smashing her on the ground, forcing her to roll away. Surrounded by so much concrete, Leyanna could only summon a small amount of fire in her palm. The creature, whose features we could barely make out in the shadows, most closely resembled a giant wolf, with a greasy coat and oily scales down its legs and snout. It opened its mouth wide to show off its many rows of tiny, jagged teeth and charged at Leyanna with renewed rage. She let it smack into her but pushed the fire deep into its chest, causing the beast to yelp and back off like it had been poked with a hot prod iron. It was just enough of a retreat for Dru to jump onto its back, grasp the lodged knife for balance, and lean over to slit the creature’s throat with the other hand. The beast fell to the ground, burgundy blood flooding the street from its wounds.

I just stood there, incapable and in shock. Leyanna and Dru were assessing some scratches and healing each other, while I just stood there, staring at the animal that was the size of a small hippo, wondering what it was doing here and why I’d been born without any valuable skills. My gaze shifted from the mutilated carcass and drifted over toward what it had been eating.

On a pile of black garbage bags and newspapers lay a body, awkwardly sprawled over the heap. At the foot of the pile was a backpack, brutally torn in two, and a book with a swirly picture of pyramids and hieroglyphs spilling out the side.

“Farris!” I gasped and ran to his side. There wasn’t any time to assess his injuries, there were too many, the only glaringly obvious thing being that he’d lost a lot of blood. Too much. His right arm, which I had so clumsily burned with coffee no more than an hour ago, now wore the mangled markings of thousands of tiny teeth punctures. It was a miracle that his arm was still even intact. Each wound oozed with blood and whatever venomous drool that creature was cursed with. His chest shuddered and his breathing became labored, his lungs combatting every other body function for priority. Without hesitation, I laid my hands on him and thrust all the magic I had into healing power. But as soon as I felt the Balance touch him, my hands seized up like I had touched poison.

“The guy from the coffee shop? What was that thing? And why would it attack him?” asked Leyanna, coming over to survey the damage.

“It’s a shadow beast,” explained Dru, wiping off her knives on the side of her shorts. “We’ve learned about them in training, but I’ve never seen more than pictures. They are the creatures of the Shadowlands. They can have the traits of any animal or monster, as each one is basically a mutation of nature. They are most easily recognized by their dark color, their ever-wet complexion, their violent nature, and their lack of shadow. They don’t cast one—they are one.” She sounded like she was reciting from a textbook, but it still sounded ominous. “Most have toxic saliva, and because they are born from dark magic, these wounds will need a lot more magic than we will ever be able to muster here. We don’t even have enough magic for a portal.”

“We can’t let him die! We can’t!” I shouted. I was crying and didn’t know why. Although faeries live in a peaceful realm that would look like a utopia to most humans, we were still ruthless people. Dying is a part of life, a part of the Balance. In particular, for humans whose lives are so short by comparison anyway. Older faeries tend to release their magic to the Balance when they choose to be done living. First, they turn white, and then, when they are ready to give up the rest of their magic, they die. When my grandmother, who was two thousand years old, went white, no one even shed a tear. I was taught to just accept these things as the circle of life. Her magic would feed the Balance, and we all just went on with our lives. But looking upon Farris’s bruised and anguished face, I suppose I thought he deserved better. He had such a short life to begin with; it shouldn’t end like this.

“It’s weird, though.” Dru stuck her face in to get a closer look at Farris’s wounds. “Shadow beasts are known to eat just about anything but are mostly attracted to other magical creatures. Clearly, it was savoring and favoring this right arm. But Farris is about as magical as a toaster.”

“How did it even get here?” asked Leyanna. “Only a dark faerie could portal something like this here, but this magic was never supposed to make it out of the Shadowlands, let alone the Seam itself.” The Seam was a section of Earth hidden from humans, where all the magical realms dwelled.

“It’s my fault,” I said quietly. Both friends looked at me confused. “It’s my fault,” I repeated. “It has to be. By a cruel twist of fate, he was at the library this evening too. He spotted me, we talked a bit, I accidentally spilled his coffee on him, and then before I even knew I was doing it, I healed his burn.”

“You broke the no magic rule before I did? Hmm, didn’t see that one coming,” mused Leyanna, slightly impressed.

“I did. It was practically involuntary, but I doubt my parents will see it that way. As for how it got here, we can try to figure out answers to questions like that later, but for now, we need to get him to a Master Healer—and fast. I don’t think he is going to last much longer.” Panic was strangling my voice making every word a painful act.

Suddenly, a wind picked up in the darkened alley, blowing dust, dirt, trash, and the smell of wet blood into our faces. A portal materialized in front of us, and through the glowing doorway to another realm, we could see the entrance way to the great hall of the Shaede Court.

“I’ve got him. Let’s go,” commanded Dru, who scooped up Farris like a broken doll and moved toward the portal with urgency. It was time to go home.