Lady Shade Read online

  After returning from the furthest venture I had ever undertaken, I noticed a small detail in the pyramid that I hadn’t noticed before. In the side opposite the steps, halfway up, there was a small black rectangle—a dark doorway to the interior of the structure—and I immediately went to investigate it. I wouldn’t venture deep. I didn’t know this place, and it’s likely that the natives thought it dangerous because it was like a maze within. But when I stepped into the threshold of darkness, I found no labyrinth, no minotaur. Instead, it was a simple square room with bare walls, except a painting on the opposite wall. What confused me was that it was a beautiful depiction. A white man dressed in a long black shroud, with hair that fell down to his knees and long, sharp nails. He shared something with the natives—a bone necklace, the same wild look in his eyes. There was nothing else in this room and I thought nothing more of what I’d seen, not realizing it was a dire warning.

  The moment I left that chamber, I could feel the pale man’s eyes watching my back, and they didn’t go when I turned the corner. While I’d looked upon the image, I saw pristine beauty, maybe what the natives saw in their spirits. But now I could feel it, among the trees, in the darkness. It felt like something was watching. Not hungry. Not angry. Not even malicious. But observing and watching me, how I believed God looked down on me.

  It was the day after that, a man I recognized emerged from the trees. I kept out of view, hiding in the overhang and watching him—the great warlord who had so terribly defeated me and my men. In his arms was a soldier of Her Majesty’s legion, one of my men, barely breathing. Likely already a dead man, by all accounts. I loaded my rifle, preparing to shoot him in the back. But as I loaded every round, I could feel the eyes grow angrier, so instead I returned to being an observer. I’m not subservient, but I knew I couldn’t shoot that man.

  The warlord descended the steps, and as I watched him go I realized he had no soldier in his arms. The moment he was gone, I dashed up the steps to find the soldier lying with his back on the stone, looking up at the sun. He didn’t look at me. My shadow fell over him and his gaze shifted to the tree line. I jerked around, thinking the warlord had come back, perhaps with some kind of sacrificial dagger. But I could no longer feel the eyes watching me.

  Every ounce of strength and determination left my flesh, and I could only stare as he stepped from the trees. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, with pale skin and long black claws. It was something between human and something not quite. The bones rattled around its neck, and its eyes seemed to burn with a smothered fire. All life had been snuffed out. Its naked, bony foot fell upon the lowest step and I looked down at the soldier, who was now looking up at the endless void that was the rest of God’s creation. It got to the top of the steps and I noticed then that I was merely inches from it, so I snapped my rifle up and I took aim. It looked back at me and I became paralyzed again.

  It wasn’t scared or angry. It was interested. It reached out and grabbed the rifle from my hands, threw it down the side of the pyramid, and looked down at the soldier before shivering in a way that came with sexual pleasure. Lastly, it turned to me and moved closer, then whispered in my ear. Seven words, spoken like a spider spinning its silky web, and then I was lying with my back on the stone, looking up at a cold night’s sky.

  Seven unspeakable words I won’t repeat. Words that tainted my heart and put something dark in my veins.

  I would find my way out of the jungle, but I still felt that strange creature watching me, mocking me every moment. And now I know who I am, where I am, and the fate that awaits me. It isn’t heaven or hell. I have no time for places of fiction.

  No, I have a much stranger place waiting, past death.

  Solace

  The Pagan

  It was a chilly night in Bronzeglade. Solace loved the forest during the day, when the trees were rich and brown and the leaves an entrancing bronze. But right now the bark was silver and the leaves black. A howl had rolled through the town from the Winters Estate, and Solace dashed in that direction. He stood on a verge which looked over the estate, his dark shroud wrapped around him, long-barreled rifle in his hands, and he was freezing.

  He tapped the blue-stone ring against a rock beside him and hopped to his feet. Leaped from the rock and slid down the hillside, bracing his fall with the towering walls of the estate. He sniffed the air and smelled something foul.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Solace turned to see Tubiel standing by the estate’s side gate, silver dagger in one hand and silver mace in the other, peering through the gateway into the gardens. Solace held a finger up to his lips and crept toward Tubiel.

  “I’m guessing I wasn’t the only one who heard the beast,” Solace whispered.

  “Yeah, it came from this way,” Tubiel said. “All right, well, I know you’re not one of them, at least.”

  Solace nodded toward the entrance. “Let’s go in.”

  Tubiel opened the gate and let Solace to go first. Solace slipped through into the gardens, and hid behind one of the many low hedges at the front of the house. He could through the windows and into the dining room, where Milla and Eratta were eating.

  “Check two, for not Lycans,” Solace said.

  “Hm.” Tubiel crouched beside Solace. “Any sign?”

  Solace peered through the darkness. “Yeah.” He pointed to a room directly above the dining room.

  It was dark, but he could make out a pair of gleaming eyes. The giant white beast smashed its paw through the glass, then leaped free and gripped the ledge. It swung around like an ape, kicked through the dining hall window and crashed against the table. Milla jumped to her feet, reaching under her dress, and pulled out a wheel-lock pistol. She fired a shot that slammed into the beast’s chest. Solace took aim and shot it in the back. Eratta screamed and collapsed to the floor.

  “Go,” Solace hissed.

  Tubiel nodded and they both dashed for the dining hall. The white-furred beast turned to the unexpected adversaries and roared. Then Milla loaded another bullet and shot the beast in the leg. It yelped, and as Tubiel vaulted over a hedge, the beast lunged to meet him. Tubiel sprayed it in the face with mace and slashed its wrist with his silver knife. The beast shrieked and stumbled backward, and Solace fired another round. Green-Eyes grabbed the table and toppled over it to put a barrier between him and his three enemies. Tubiel rushed in behind the table. He cursed when the dining room door crashed against the floor and the beast escaped. Solace loaded another round into his rifle.

  “What is it doing here!” Eratta cried, as Milla helped him to his feet.

  “It’s hunting the huntress,” Tubiel said.

  Solace tracked Green-Eyes through the manor as it moved to higher levels. Solace moved back, into the gardens, keeping aim with his rifle at the place he guessed it would emerge. Milla, Eratta, and Tubiel climbed out of the window and joined him. Sure enough, it smashed through the glass roof of the conservatory and Solace fired. The shot blasted into the beast’s eye and it howled, staggering back.

  “So we’re all hunters?” Milla asked.

  “I’m an inquisitor who’s handled a few,” Tubiel said.

  “No. I just know the ancient things.” Solace loaded another round. “You’re the huntress.”

  “It’s real!” Eratta gasped. “Milla, you—”

  “I’ll take your apology later,” she said. “This one, it’s unusually tough.”

  “A dress and jewelry aren’t dress for a huntress,” Tubiel said. “You can’t move like you need to.”

  “Funnily enough, I was off the job this evening. Solace?”

  “It’s hiding, but I don’t think it’s gone.” He glanced over at Tubiel. “Nice bracelets, by the way.”

  The silver bracelets went from his wrist to his elbow. Solace didn’t know their significance was, but they were interesting, regardless.

  “It was coming for me,” Milla said. “How many rounds, Solace?”

  “Plenty
.”

  “My mace is buggered.” Tubiel held it up.

  The ridged head was crumpled.

  “I’ve got enough rounds,” Milla said, “but I think this one may be easier to fight during the daytime.”

  “Agreed,” Tubiel said.

  Green-Eyes pulled up onto the highest point of the manor and held onto the spire. Its white fur glowed in the moonlight and one of its eyes oozed with blood as it focused on Milla. She stared up at it, while Solace kept aim.

  “It’s about to attack,” Tubiel said. “Solace!”

  “I know.” Solace fired.

  It howled to the sky as blood burst from its other eye, and toppled from the top of the mansion. The breaking of stones echoed as it crashed toward the Grey Hills.

  Solace sighed.

  “You blinded it,” Eratta said. “It won’t get far. Let’s chase it!”

  “No.” Solace slung the rifle over his shoulder, by the strap. “I’m going home.”

  “You have a home?” Tubiel said.

  “Funny enough.” Solace smiled. “Take care, you three.” He drifted back into the forest.

  Tomorrow, he’d find Green-Eyes and kill it. Before it killed again.

  Excerpt From A Hunter’s Notes

  Lycanthropes, also called werewolves, were first seen in the southern regions of the Holy Roman Empire. However, at first it was only an affliction of the mind. The sight of the white gleam of the moon triggers something that turns the victim into a raving madman who believes himself a wolf. When wolf attacks would happen, they could trigger someone already suffering from guilt to develop lycanthropy, and thus the understanding that the body would follow came to be.

  As a result, the response to the more developed lycanthropes was slow. Why the body eventually follows, or what causes it to follow, whether it be a demon or miasma, is something science can’t understand. But it has been discovered that wherever a strange kind of amber—either blue, orange, or green—is found in large quantities, the most unnatural of these beasts will appear.

  Lycanthropes can take many forms. It has been reported that some are half-man, half-wolf, and these are the most common kind. All reports indicate that these kinds of werewolves only come into existence by being sired by a high lycanthrope, or body lycanthrope. As a result, wherever a high lycanthrope who doesn’t exhibit unnatural abilities appears, it’s to be assumed that there’s a more powerful one nearby.

  It’s also to note that there seems to be no pattern as to who can turn into a high lycanthrope. In a case in France, a prisoner who’d been caged through three full moons turned on the fourth full moon and had no access to the means to repress the lycanthropy. In this case, the lycanthrope seemed to be aquatic in nature, adapting to its surroundings of an island prison. It escaped into the water and was later found twenty miles away, with a mind twisted to believe it had never been imprisoned in the first place. Therefore, it’s to be assumed that lycanthropes don’t know what they are, and their understanding of the world isn’t necessarily what’s real. This is similar to hysteria—a fundamental departure from reality.

  There’s a period in which the body hasn’t turned, but the mind has. This is a dangerous and incredibly useful time for the beast because it’s able to think clearly and move away from the public eye. There’s no reason to believe the human side of the lycanthrope has any control over this.

  There are a few methods to repress the beast, but this doesn’t mean mercy should be given to these individuals who repress it. These people are constantly playing the odds, which is akin to gambling, and therefore are of the devil. The most common is the use of a silver bracelet. It appears that the weak lycanthropes can simply use two loops, whereas the Originators require full braces on their forearms.

  It’s the gleam of moonlight that turns their mind. Should the sky be covered in dark clouds, or should they lock themselves in complete darkness, they will not turn.

  Elderly lycanthropes lose the ability to turn in mind and then in body. As a result, those who have been a lycanthrope for a long time will be more cunning. Additionally, the beast will grow larger and stronger up until this point. At its apex, an Originator lycanthrope can be immune to their only weakness—silver. To make matters worse, some Originators have proven immune to the last part of the aging process, essentially making them ageless and unkillable on a full moon.

  Daniel

  The Militia Captain

  Daniel grunted, trying to steer his horse to face forward. A lazy, rebellious beast and certainly not one of burden. His last horse’s leg had crippled when the militia had tried to chase down a thief, and Daniel had to leave it in the forest. So he was stuck on the saddle of this brown-haired horse while leading the militiamen, who joked among themselves about his new horse, and Daniel was torn between anger and laughter, but eventually gave over to laughter.

  It had been predicted that there’d be dark skies that night, and it was already cloudy, so the men and women were double-timing the harvest before it became too dark to continue. Miss Shade and Eratta accompanied the militia on their journey through the trees, to the place of the attack, and Daniel was very much jealous of Miss Shade’s black stallion. They eventually came to the road.

  The Bronzeglade took Daniel’s breath away every time. Golden, bronze, and green leaves drifted past them as they trotted through the forest. The trees were a beautiful shade of brown and turned silver at night. Once they came to the bend in the road, Daniel traveled down the narrow path which required them to trot single file. His men began singing, “His horse is like his lady, he never knows where either one is going!” and other such lines. Daniel just trotted and smiled, right up until the trees began to give way and they arrived at the gap in the forest caused by a giant stone ridge that ran from one horizon to the other. He turned his horse to travel alongside it, checking that the purple wooden marker was still there. Soon, they could hear the rushing water, and his men stopped singing as they came to the warm pool of white water and a waterfall.

  “Sounds like his wife,” one of his men muttered.

  Daniel laughed and continued trotting his horse to the other side. Once he arrived, he jumped off and tied it up to a nearby tree. His men did the same, while Milla and Eratta remained on horseback, looking confused.

  Daniel peered into the water. “We hadn’t moved the horse yet, had we?” he asked one of his men.

  The man shrugged.

  “The horse?” Eratta asked.

  “They’d been thrown from the top of the waterfall,” Daniel said. “Rider and horse both. The path to and from the monastery is up there.”

  “And?” Errata said.

  “They’re both gone,” Daniel replied. “The horse died from the fall. The lady broke her leg and crawled up to that rock.”

  A rock rose from the center of the pool to create a tilted flat surface. There was a flicker of the sun and Daniel looked up to see that someone had come to the edge of the cliff. Solace. His blue ring gleamed in the sunlight.

  “Did you see anything?” Daniel called to him.

  “Yeah. Too dark to see much, though. There were a few people around here a couple nights ago. Didn’t think much of it. Probably some people in the town who’re secretly still pagan or something.”

  “They were covering up a crime,” Daniel said. “Did you see anything?”

  “No.” Solace glanced at Eratta.

  Daniel glanced at Eratta, who whispered something to Miss Shade.

  “Is there something I should be told?” Daniel asked.

  “Come to my estate before dinner,” Errata said. “We’ll eat and I’ll tell you everything. The road up there… I would ask, what was she doing at the monastery?”

  “I’ll check it out,” Daniel said. “Solace, would you be so kind as to help us around?”

  “It’s big. I don’t know everything, but I’ll meet you there.”

  “All right,” Daniel said. “And tonight, we talk. Men, say nothing that something coul
d be up. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir!” they shouted.

  “Let’s move!” Daniel jumped back on his horsed and spurred it to a gallop.

  The path up to the ridge was a long one, and they rode far past the path that had gotten them to the ridge, down where the rockface had collapsed onto the forest. There, the rocks were small, but Daniel’s horse moved quicker than the others, so he got to mock his men as they struggled to make their horses climb. Once they were at the top of the slope, they got to the road on top of the ridge and made the ride for the monastery.

  It was a stunning view overlooking the lower part of the Bronzeglade, which included the circle of the town’s center and the small houses. While they rode toward the enormous grey hills, Daniel glimpsed the high walls of Eratta’s estate through the trees. The road turned back into the forest and the path became more obstructed, but it wasn’t long before it became clear and they were in Solace’s domain, with runes, visages, and carved epitaphs scattered about.