Shadows

“I beg your pardon?” asked Keliashyrr.

“Your bow,” persisted the red haired girl. “You fired an arrow at that rabbit. Where’s the bow?”

“She’s sharp. Be careful,” muttered Ambriel.

“It’s back by that tree,” Keliashyrr responded, gesturing behind her. “I thought it best to approach unarmed. I’m not out to make enemies.”

“A very sensible move,” replied the girl. “You’re out hunting I presume?”

“Yes, that’s right. Out for some rabbits.”

“If that’s the case, then you might have seen a friend of mine come this way last night. About this tall,” she gestured, holding a hand about half a foot above her head, “with glasses. Curly brown hair. Goes by the name of Robert?”

“I may have done… Who’s asking? How do I know you’re really his friend?”

“You’d know if you’d met him,” continued the girl. “He’s very distinctive.” The two girls stared into each other’s eyes, their gaze locked intently. “I don’t mean any harm. He’s looking after something of mine and I’d quite like it back now.”

“An Orb?” asked Keliashyrr.

“Perhaps,” replied the girl, bringing herself up to her full height, which was a couple of inches taller than Keliashyrr. “I should warn you, that offer of not meaning harm will be withdrawn if it turns out you’ve done something to Robert.”

“Indeed? You don’t look so dangerous. You’re having to use a walking stick.”

“It’s called a crook, and it won’t seem so harmless in a minute, shorty.”

“You’re not that much taller than me,” bristled Keliashyrr, stretching up on tip-toes. “And my name is Keliashyrr.”

“Is that so? Well my name’s Evangeline.”

“Then that seals it,” smirked Keliashyrr. “You can’t be his friend. Robert said his friend was called Angie.”

“So you have met him then?” grinned the girl. Damn, thought Keliashyrr. “And that is me by the way. I’m Angie. It’s short for Evangeline.”

“Is that so?” asked Keliashyrr.

“Yes,” nodded Angie, squeezing the bridge of her nose. “Look, I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot Kel – can I call you Kel? Keliashyrr just takes too long to say. It’s why I call myself Angie really, it rolls off the tongue. Plus Evangeline sounds ridiculous for day to day activities – have you ever met an Evangeline who needs to help an elderly gentleman with his bowel difficulties? Angie, now… that’s a name you can work with and do work with if you know what I mean?”

“Hmm,” pondered Ambriel. “She certainly seems like she could be that Robert’s friend. There’s something about her…”

“You certainly seem like you could be Robert’s friend,” Kel responded. She wasn’t entirely sure she liked this Angie – whilst she quite liked the shortened form of her name the girl had supplied, the comment about her height still rankled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Angie.

“Just, you seem similar is all,” shrugged Kel.

“Oh God,” muttered Angie, then paused. “I shouldn’t say that. He’s nice really, just… funny how people rub off on you, isn’t it? Anyway, you’ve seen him, have you? Obviously long enough to have a conversation with.”

“Well, yes,” admitted Kel, relaxing somewhat. “I met him last night, and have been travelling with him since.”

“Travelling with him? Why?”

“Well, he seemed like he could use a hand and it gets lonely out here in the woods.”

“You live out here?”

“…At the moment.” Kel began to feel uncomfortable again. Angie was asking questions she wasn’t entirely sure she was happy answering.

“Alone?”

“Oh no, my dad is never too far away.”

“Careful,” urged Ambriel.

“Where is he now then? Out hunting as well?”

“Something like that.”

“Careful,” hissed Ambriel.

“Kel, why are you lying to me?”

“Why would you say that?” Kel replied, her heartbeat quickening.

“Because I’ve got very good at knowing when people are lying to me. It’s necessary in my line of work – people often don’t give you all the details first time round. Let me save you the hassle of coming clean – you can perform magic, can’t you?”

“Damn!” swore Ambriel. Kel leapt back in panic into a defensive pose, hands raised ready to fire off a salvo of magical arrows.

“No no no!” cried Angie, raising her own hands in defence. “It’s okay, I don’t mean any harm! But I’m right, aren’t I? You’re magical?”

Kel said nothing, panting heavily and watching the girl with caution. One wrong move…

“It’s alright,” breathed Angie, “It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you. I know the world hasn’t always been kind to magical creatures, or magic users, but I have nothing against you. Honestly, I couldn’t care less if you were capable of conjuring doves out of your armpits – all I want to do is find Robert and get the Orb.”

“Why? So you can use its power?”

“The power of incinerating myself if I touch it? I don’t think that would be that useful.”

“Again,” whispered Ambriel. “Another reference to the Orb destroying whoever touches it. Very curious indeed…”

“Sorry,” continued Angie, her shoulders drooping. “I didn’t mean to be sarcastic. But I have no interest in the Orb itself, or whatever ‘power’ it has. You see, an old friend of mine was hired by someone to retrieve the Orb but was killed by a magical creature, called a Skadirr, before he could deliver it. Robert told me that a Skadirr is controlled by someone, so that means that someone ordered it to kill my friend. They also tried to get it to kill me, but I killed the Skadirr before it got the chance.”

“This girl killed a Skadirr?” gasped Ambriel. “How?”

“How did you kill it?” asked Kel. “Are you magical too?”

“Not as far as I know,” shrugged Angie. “I just used fire and some very strong alcohol.”

“What’s alcohol?”

“It doesn’t matter. The point is, there’s someone out there who’s responsible for the death of my friend, and I mean to make them pay. If they want the Orb so badly, I’m going to make sure they never get near it.”

Kel paused for a second, scanning Angie for any tells or signs that she might be lying. She certainly seemed to be telling the truth, but Kel couldn’t help but think that if the girl was used to being told lies, maybe she’d be good at telling them too? She waited to see if he father’s voice added anything to her thoughts, but he was being uncharacteristically quiet.

“Dad?” she hissed. Angie looked around at the trees.

“Is your dad nearby?” she asked, but Kel didn’t respond.

“There’s something strange about this girl,” whispered Ambriel after a moment’s pause, “but I believe she was telling the truth just then. Plus, if she’s capable of killing a Skadirr then she could be a formidable ally. Be watchful my child, but for now I don’t think you’re in danger.”

Kel relaxed from her defensive stance, lowering her hands and straightening up. Still she kept her eyes tightly fixed on Angie, who also relaxed and lowered her hands back down. The dog by her feet also seemed to calm down, and began to gnaw at the base of the crook Angie was holding.

“Yes,” sighed Kel. “I’m magical.”

“Hmm,” chuckled Angie. “If someone had told me that last week I wouldn’t have believed them. Now… I feel I’d just about believe anything. If it’s not offensive, how are you magical? Are you a witch? Some sort of forest nymph or pixie?”

“A pixie?!” Kel bristled.

“Forest nymph then?” Angie grinned, which made Kel’s eyes narrow. “Sorry,” she continued. “It’s just with the fur clothing and the whole living in the forest thing… is your dad magical too?”

“Pardon?”

“I couldn’t help but notice you whispered for your dad just then. Is he magical too?”

“Um, well… yes. But, if we’re being completely honest with each other, he’s not really… around.” Kel gestured. “He’s in my head.” Kel stuck her chin out as if daring Angie to laugh.

“He’s imaginary?” Angie asked, confused.

“No, he’s real – just…”

“Really, really small?”

“Don’t mock me!”

“Sorry, I think I must be feeling a bit giddy. Blood loss and fatigue and nearly dying several times in two days can do that to you. So, what is he?”

“Well,” huffed Kel, “he’s real is what he is.”

“Noted.”

“At least, he was. He’s dead now, I think.”

“Right,” sighed Angie sadly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to... like I said, I’ve lost someone close recently. If you don’t mind me asking, when did he die?”

“It must be years ago now.”

“Even so, I’m sorry. I… know how people can carry around the memories of their lost ones. Is that what you mean when you say he’s in your head?” asked Angie delicately. “Can you see him; hear him?”

“I don’t see him, but I hear him. It’s not memories, though. I don’t really remember him to be honest with you, I could only have been a baby at the time he died.”

“Right,” nodded Angie, looking Kel up and down. “If, again, you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

“Not long turned sixteen. Why?”

“Because magic hasn’t been around for hundreds of years. Card tricks and the like, yes, but proper magic, no. Truthfully, I didn’t think it ever really existed. Robert would know more about the actual history of it, but as far as I’m concerned magic was just a myth – something used to help sell bits of tat in cheap shops. Plus, not to be mean, but you do kind of sound like you’ve just come from a renaissance fair. All the extra ’e’s in your words, if you know what I mean.”

“Hundreds of years?” asked Ambriel, bewildered by Angie’s claim and ignoring her comment about Old Elthric. “It can’t be. Or at least, that’s very unlikely. The spell I laid upon you was to keep you safe until the world was safe to emerge into. Hundreds of years can’t have passed, they can’t have. Surely the world hasn’t been dangerous for hundreds of years.”

“What year is it?” asked Kel.

“996 A.U.”

“A.U.?”

“After Unification. When the Empire was officially founded.”

“The Empire? I’ve never heard of that.” puzzled Ambriel. “996 years?”

“Oh,” mumbled Kel. “I may have been asleep for a bit longer than I thought then.”

“Asleep?” asked Angie. “How long do you think you’ve been asleep for?”

“Well, seeing as I’ve not heard of the Empire… at least 996 years?”

Angie’s mouth dropped.

“Well, that explains the old fashioned language at least…”

996 years?! Angie gasped. There’s no way that can be right! She looks younger than me, she can’t be nearly a thousand years old!

“I have to say, you’re looking good for it.” Angie spluttered.

“Oh, thanks,” blushed Kel in awkward embarrassment.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” continued Angie, “how exactly does someone go to sleep for about a thousand years? And why wake up now?”

“I don’t know myself, really. I was under the impression I’d only been asleep for about sixteen years…”

“Even so! Why were you asleep for that long?”

“I guess like you said, magic wasn’t all that popular. My father hid me away and put a spell on me so I’d sleep until the world was safe for magic users once more. Seeing as I’m about sixteen I thought that must be how many years have passed, but something must have gone wrong…”

“Ah, yes. Looping back round to your father,” Angie paused, “am I right in thinking you said you hear him in your head? Was that part of the spell as well, leaving part of himself behind to keep you safe?”

“Yes,” nodded Kel hesitantly. “How did you know?”

“Well normally when people can see or hear people who aren’t really here it’s down to hallucinations. The whole magical aspect complicates things, though, so I just thought I’d ask to rule that out first.” Angie hesitated. “I guess it’s natural for parents to want to be around to guide and protect their children when they’re first making their way in the world. That’s what Verne did when I was growing up – taking my first steps into adulthood; starting my first job.”

“Who’s Verne?”

“My friend,” Angie sighed. “The one who died. He was more my father than my friend really, but he was both. He didn’t have to be either. My parents both died when I was little and so he took me in. I’ll never be able to repay him for what he’s done for me, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try.” Angie wiped the beginnings of tears from her eyes with a sleeve.

Come on, don’t cry! She urged herself. Stay angry! Or stay focused on Kel the mysterious magical girl with her father’s voice in her head, anything as long as it keeps you going. Now is not the time for grief. Verne wouldn’t want to see you cry. No, if he saw you looking down he’d tell you a story…

“Are you crying?” asked Kel cautiously.

“No!” huffed Angie, annoyed she’d let herself start crying in front of a strange stranger. “I think it’s just the pollen, it doesn’t agree with me…”

“The what-en?” asked Kel.

“Pollen,” replied Angie. “They’re little things released by plants and trees in the warmer months to allow them to reproduce. They make some people feel itchy, or sneeze, or have watery eyes like what it’s done to me.” Angie sniffed, blinking away the last of her tears.

“The pollen allows them to reproduce?” asked Kel, in somewhat of a daze. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“Reproducing.”

“Oh. Didn’t your parents ever… ah.” Angie trailed off. Already she could feel an intense blush building up inside that would soon turn her face the same colour as her hair. She hated this part of the job! Normally all this sort of talk was handled by parents, or by Mrs Gable if the parents weren’t in the picture for whatever reason. It was rare that Angie had to explain the birds and the bees, and she liked it that way. The last time she’d had to explain the mechanics of it all had been to poor Susan Adelbrite, and Angie had used so many euphemisms, awkward gestures and embarrassed eye movements that it had been a small mercy Susan had understood anything she’d said. Or rather, not said.[33]

“No offence Kel,” Angie gabbled nervously, “but I’m really not the best person to talk to about this at the best of times. I wonder, could we go and find Robert now?”

“Will he be able to tell me about reproducing?”

“No!” Angie shouted, rather more loudly and quickly than she’d intended. “I mean, possibly.” I’m sure he’d have read a book about it, thought Angie. Did they make books about that kind of stuff? Just the thought of Robert trying to explain it all in his familiar logical way made her feel strange and awkward. A logical, literal explanation would probably be better than whatever hesitant, embarrassed gabble she’d produce though, thought Angie, and if Robert could explain it to Kel then she wouldn’t have to. He’d probably be quite good at it, actually – no, not that it…

It is not possible for a brain to kick itself, but Angie was trying her hardest.

“There’s more important stuff to be focused on for the moment, anyway,” said Angie, flustered. “The Orb, your magic, anything really. Could you take me to Robert please? I assume you know where he is?”

“In theory,” nodded Kel. “He said he wanted to keep moving because he’d promised you he wouldn’t stop, but he also said he’d follow the river so I could find him after I was done hunting rabbits for food.” Her stomach rumbled. “On that note, I haven’t actually found any yet.”

“I’ve got a pack of supplies back there,” gestured Angie, still feeling funny. The revelation that Robert had been so determined to keep his promise to her he hadn’t stopped for food didn’t help matters. “My pack should have enough food in it for the three of us for today at least. Let’s nip back and grab it before heading on to meet up with Robert. Does that sound like a plan?” Angie smiled, holding out her hand.

Kel hesitated for a moment, then stuck out her own and shook Angie’s hand.

“Sounds good to me,” Kel smiled in return.

Robert had reached the river spring several minutes ago, and after pausing to catch his breath again he was ready to keep moving. Rather unfortunately, Keliashyrr hadn’t caught up with him yet and he was facing a moral dilemma. Did he uphold his promise to Angie to keep moving, or his promise to Keliashyrr to stop once he’d reached the top of the river? But then again, he hadn’t actually promised Keliashyrr anything, had he? It had been her who had promised to be back before he reached the top of the river and it became a problem. So in truth, he wouldn’t be in the wrong at all if he decided to keep moving – it was Keliashyrr who’d failed to keep up her side of the bargain.

Despite the unfaltering logic, Robert still found himself feeling uneasy at the thought of leaving. What if Keliashyrr had injured herself hunting and was lying in a ditch somewhere needing help? What if she’d had a run-in with a group of bandits like he and Angie had whilst on the wagons yesterday? That made Robert think about Angie again, and what might have happened to her. If she was dead, then the Skadirr would undoubtedly be coming for him, and every second spent standing still just allowed it to close the gap. If she was alive, then really all Robert was doing was putting more distance between him and Angie, which didn’t make any sense.

There was just too much uncertainty! It had never been like this at the bookshop. The only other person Robert had had to interact with regularly there was Mr Colywick, whose life ran like clockwork. Robert knew his schedule inside and out, so always knew where the man would be and what he would be doing on any given day – there was no uncertainty there, no cause for worry. Books were another certainty – they didn’t suddenly change what they were about if you didn’t keep an eye on them.[34] Robert had also developed a precise numerical filing system for them that allowed him to locate whichever book he was looking for with ease. He’d even created a little pamphlet to help Mr Colywick understand his system, but Mr Colywick had just resorted to asking Robert to retrieve books he wanted to look at.

But here out in the forests, in the wild, in the world, there was so much uncertainty! How was someone supposed to cope? The trickling of the river spring reminded him of one certainty, though. He’d not been able to properly go when Keliashyrr had interrupted him earlier and at least now it would be a way of killing some time whilst he waited…

“Robert!” came a familiar voice, interrupting him mid-flow. I don’t believe it, Robert thought, pulling his trousers up and washing his hands in the river.

“Keliashyrr!” he replied. “You’re a bit late.”

“Oh, sorry,” the girl smiled as she swung down off a low hanging tree branch and landed next to him. “I came across someone whilst I was out hunting.”

“Who? Not b-bandits?” Robert gasped, looking up from drying his hands on his trousers.

“Guess again,” smiled Angie, limping round from behind a tree. Polo was plodding along lazily by her side, tongue lolling out happily.

“Angie! You’re alive!” Robert beamed, running over towards her. He couldn’t help but feel their reunion required more than a polite smile and some awkward arm movements resolving in a handshake, but that was all it got. Robert gently patted Polo on the head, who rolled over and wiggled his tummy.

“Didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?” Angie grinned.

“How did you escape the Skadirr?”

“Mostly by blowing it up.”

“B-blowing it up?”

“Yes, with a wagon, some fire, and a little help from that bottle of alcohol you had in your bag. Sorry about that, I um… owe you for that.”

“That’s okay,” shrugged Robert. “I wouldn’t have drunk it anyway. I think Mr Colywick packed it more for sentimental value.”

“That’s even worse then!” Angie groaned. “I’ll have to find a way to repay you – not least for the bottle, but for keeping the Orb safe too. You still have it, don’t you?” Robert nodded, patting his trouser pocket.

“Yes, it’s still here.”

“Thank you for keeping that safe for me.”

“Not a problem. Did you know how t-tiring running is though? I hadn’t f-fully appreciated it.”

“I’ve had a recent education on the subject.” Angie smiled. “Oh, I found this too,” she said, pulling Robert’s red and gold bowtie out of the bag she was carrying and chucking it towards him. “I believe this is yours?”

“My bowtie!” Robert beamed, catching it gratefully and quickly returning it to its rightful place around his collar. “I k-knew I must have dropped it last night, b-but I knew I couldn’t go back. It was really irritating me. Thank you, Angie.”

“You’re more than welcome. I see you’ve found a new friend?” she continued, gesturing over to Keliashyrr who until now had been watching the pair with interest. “A magical pixie tree girl?” Keliashyrr glared across at Angie heatedly.

“Magical?” asked Robert, confused. He looked over at Keliashyrr, who looked back at him cautiously.

“Oh,” Angie hesitated, biting her lip. “You haven’t told him yet, have you Kel?”

“No,” the girl growled. “I hadn’t.”

“It’s okay though, trust me. Robert doesn’t have anything against magic.” Angie paused. “You don’t, do you Robert?”

“Kel, as in a shortened f-form of Keliashyrr?” Robert replied, his mind elsewhere.

“Yes, that’s right,” said Angie, a pleasantly surprised smile forming across her lips briefly. “But I was just saying, you don’t have anything against magic or magic users, do you?”

“Oh, not at all,” smiled Robert, shaking his head. “To be honest I think it would be p-pretty interesting to see some magic.”

[33] Angie had never actually had The Talk herself, partly because she’d rapidly found reasons to leave the room anytime Mrs Gable or Verne had tried to bring up the subject in the past, but had nevertheless picked up enough from her work for Mrs Gable to know the basics. More than once she’d assisted in childbirth when Mrs Tetsbo the midwife was busy, and it was remarkable how skilled Angie was at helping babies into the world considering she couldn’t talk about it all without going the shade of an embarrassed tomato.

[34] Mostly true but with a few exceptions. For example, locked deep within a vault somewhere within the Empire was ‘The Metanomnicon’ by Mandel A. Berenstaine. Mandel, more through accident than design, had somehow managed to write the book so that it was different to everyone who read it. To some it revealed dark, arcane secrets that would warp the reader’s mind. To some it contained a collection of the world’s most moving poetry. Rumour has it ‘The Metanomnicon’ was originally intended to be about crickets.