Steel Shadows

LIMANI-2

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Asaron said. “In Newport Hill, Daniel says they look like plumes of smoke where there’s no fire. And Kahina told me she saw them as holes of pure darkness against any bright light.”

Archer retrieved a pad of paper and pen from his desk. “So Kahina seems to be seeing them the most clearly.”

“Kahina is the oldest.” Retrieving his beer, Asaron toasted Archer’s startled expression. “Yes, older than me. She retired from the Senate in Roma but never lost her taste for power. Retirement as the Master of the largest city in the colonies suits her.”

“I expected her to go back after the invasion nonsense and set the Emperor straight.” Victory rolled the glass bottle between her palms. “She even sent me a lovely apology note for allowing General Octavian to travel through her territory without learning the truth about why he was there. Promised it wouldn’t happen again.” Limani might not be a large or powerful city, but at least the local Masters in the Roman colonies to the south valued its position as neutral ground between them and the British.

Archer waved his notepad to get them back on topic. “Dark shadows where they shouldn’t be. I wish I could ask you how they feel, but I know vampires don’t feel magic.”

“I still don’t know how you feel magic, much less manipulate it.” Victory exchanged a wry glance with Asaron, a long-lasting sense of mutual confusion that the closest people in their lives had access to something so alien to them. “But you’re the expert, so that’s why we came to you.”

“I’m not the only expert, though.” Archer’s attention lingered in the middle-distance between them, then snapped to the present. “Be right back.”

He rose from his desk and strode across the office, his thick-soled boots squeaking on the wooden floor. Poking his head out the door, he called to someone unseen. “Fee! Can you send a message to Kane and Toria that I need them in my office?”

“I must remind you, sir, that Master Connor has requested I not summon her, because—” The woman’s bland voice shifted to a perfect mimicry of Toria. “—It makes my brain itch, damn it.”

“I remember, Fee, thank you. Can you please ask Kane to fetch her?”

“Yes, Master Sophin.”

“Do you know where they are right now?”

“Yes, Master Sophin.”

“Every damned time. Right. Can you please tell me where Kane and Toria are right now?”

“Master Nalamas is in your suite, reading. Master Connor is in the living room, helping Journeyman Sjolander and Apprentice Lukis study.”

“Thank you, Fee.” Archer drew back into the office. He returned to the fridge and withdrew two more beers, which he readied at the edge of his desk.

“Doesn’t it creep you out, her knowing where you are all the time?” Asaron asked.

“She doesn’t have enough power to reach beyond the physical limitations of the mage school grounds, and access to her privacy settings are limited to me, Kane, and Toria.” Archer popped the caps of the beer bottles and tossed them into the trash bin with the others. “Those sorts of duties are tied to her original crafting. Lack of work to do or information to process causes problems, so we figured it was better to have her function as a sort of security measure instead of leaving her to her own devices.”

Archer had brought the simulacrum known as “Fee” back from New Angouleme after shutting down the school there, declaring that leaving her unsupervised was both inhumane and courting disaster. The pale, emotionless-being disturbed Victory. Based on the overheard exchange, Fee unsettled Toria as well.

Footsteps trotted down the hallway, and two figures soon passed through Archer’s office door. The taller was the dark-skinned, muscled figure of Victory’s foster son and Archer’s significant other, Kane Nalamas. His lighter shadow was Kane’s warrior-mage partner and Victory’s adopted daughter, Toria Connor. Magic had linked the two since adolescence, allowing them to pursue a career as mercenaries along with their magical studies.

Kane dragged a stool from the corner and sat next to Archer, accepting his beer with a kiss, while Toria perched on a corner of the desk. She snagged the other beer and drowned a long swig. Though less than two days had passed since they arrived in Limani after the adventure in Nacostina, Toria had embraced the return to modern dress standards, as indicated by her crop top and ragged jeans. “Thank you for not having Fee talk in my brain. Hi, Mom. Good evening, Grandpa.”

Archer moved the bottle, damp with condensation, away from a stack of papers. “You’re welcome. A bit thirsty?”

“If I’d remembered how much I hate tutoring ward theory, I might have stayed in the past.”

“I’ll get Maggie to sit with me tomorrow to see where she’s getting hung up. Anyway. Your elders are here to pick our brains.” With the practice of years of teaching, Archer outlined what the vampires had relayed to him, with Victory interjecting once to correct his description of what she’d seen when traveling forward through time.

As Archer finished, Toria said, “I was in the storage room at the museum. And then I was on the ground in Nacostina. There was nothing between.”

Kane picked at the label of his beer bottle, shredding it into a tiny pile on Archer’s desk. “And you’ve both been seeing the shadows for how long?”

“Sounds like since we ruined the ritual in the Catacombs.” Toria stared into the distance, emotion darkening her face. With a disconcerting shift in attention, she stared at Victory. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Victory held her daughter’s gaze for two beats, then turned away before her vampiric power forced Toria to bend first. “Same reason Asaron didn’t say anything, probably. It’s hard to accept feeling crazy when you’re supposed to have seen and done everything already. There’s always a rational explanation for everything. Until there’s not.”

“Pretty much.” Asaron patted Victory’s knee.

“So, seeing the shadows is linked to the broken ritual in the Catacombs.” Kane stretched one arm with the pop of a wrist joint, then the other. “But when Victory heard them talk to her, it was when the artifact transported her through time. Sounds like we need to examine the artifact.”

“No.” Toria slid off the desk and loomed over them all, hands braced on her hips. “We’re destroying that thing.”

The muscles in Kane’s shoulders bunched, but he remained seated. “We can’t destroy the object that might have some answers without doing our due diligence.”

“It’s too dangerous.” Toria stared Kane down, and the warrior-mage partners might have been alone in the room.

How would this play out? Victory had come to Archer for advice, not to cause a fight.

“You told me it was physical touch that activated the time travel,” Archer said. “I can’t believe I said that with a straight face. You said it let you cast an illusion on it without fighting back. So passive examination should be safe enough.”

Kane pulled Toria toward his stool and tucked her against his side. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “We can bring it here from the Guildhall. Honestly, it might be safer here under wards than in Max’s safe.”

As if a valve had opened, the tension drained from Toria’s body and she slumped against Kane. “I hate it when you’re rational. We’ll have to get Liam’s permission. The contract is fulfilled, so the stupid rock belongs to him now.”

In a twist of fate, the man Toria had fallen in love with in the past was the same who’d set the mercenary contract that sent them to Nacostina in the first place. Despite her lack of magical acumen, Victory had to agree that the mage school was a securer place for a dangerous magical artifact than a safe in the heart of Limani’s Mercenary Guildhall, even under the protection of its Guildmaster. “Do you have a way to contact Liam?” It boggled her mind further that the man she’d known for years fell in love with Victory’s daughter before Victory ever met him.

She hated time travel.

“We’re, uh, having dinner in a bit,” Toria said. “We decided it was better for me to get settled at home first, and take things slow. But Kane met him yesterday.”

“Seems like a stand-up guy.” Kane hugged Toria once more, then allowed her to detach from his side. “He’s a scientist, like you. I can’t imagine that he won’t want to learn more about the artifact before it’s destroyed.”

“But it is getting destroyed.” Toria’s tone brooked no argument. “It’s too dangerous. If anyone else touches it, they’ll be sent back to a horrific war. I’m not letting that happen.”

“Right.” Victory rushed to reassure her daughter before the debate continued. “I won’t let that happen either. We need answers first, though, and this is the best clue we have.”

Toria blew out a huff of air, causing shaggy locks of her hair to fly up for a beat. “Okay. I’ll talk to Liam tonight. Because this won’t already be the most awkward not-first-date ever.”

Victory returned to the mage school the next evening, with Asaron and her daywalker Mikelos in tow. The summer weather hit its peak, swamping Limani in oppressive humidity.

As they crossed from the small parking area to the school’s front entrance, Mikelos said, “I’m glad we’re not still camping in this.”

If Victory and Toria hadn’t stumbled over the artifact the kids had been contracted to find, they all might have still wandered the ruins of Nacostina, searching foot by foot. Small favors, but Victory’s mere days in the past did not compare to Toria’s months, so she wasn’t one to talk. “Me, too.”

“I was bummed that you got home early.” Asaron held the front door open for Victory and Mikelos, waving them ahead of him. “Had a big party planned.”

“When’s the last time you had a party that didn’t consist of you and Max drinking alone in the dark?” Many things described Victory’s sire, and “party animal” did not make the list.

“A party is a party.”

“Where’s the party?” Kane asked in the entryway, next to a small study room. One of the young heads bent over the table raised in interest, but Kane pointed to her book. “No party for you until you finish your reading on cantrips.”

The second student in the room peered at the newcomers in interest. “Can we have a party when Tasya’s done?”

“No parties!” Kane threw up his hands. “Forget I said anything. Finish your reading.” He gestured, leading the visitors away from the room before the apprentice mages goaded him into further conversation. “Kids, I tell you.”

Kane escorted them into the depths of the original mansion that held the mage school, past the industrial kitchen and down steep stairs into the cellar. From Victory’s perspective, he’d also been a kid too short a time ago. She stepped behind Mikelos into an underground room. The cool air prickled the hair on her arms, a temperature much lower than the bathwater air outside. The steady glow of mage-lights in each corner dispelled any sense of gloom. A minty smell touched the air.

Asaron nudged her to the side with a gentle tap to the wrist. With eight adults along the walls, the room seemed smaller than it was. A box about two feet square sat in the center of a ritual circle embedded into the ground in a lighter slate. Whoever had packaged the artifact had not gone light on the packing tape.

Archer clapped his hands. “And the gang’s all here!” Kane joined him along the wall opposite the door.

Toria stood on Archer’s other side, staring at the package with the fierce gaze of a hungry hawk. Liam completed the set with hands shoved in jean pockets, face hooded under the mage-light above him. He met Victory’s gaze and quirked his lip, which tugged at the thin scar that slashed across his face.

Victory crossed the room, skirting the artifact, and extended her hands to Liam. “Now I know why an elf kept hanging around my bar all those years ago. Keeping an eye on us?”

Liam pressed a kiss to her cheek, and said, “It’s such a load off my shoulders that we’ve come full circle. It’s been a weird few weeks for you, but it’s been a long century for me.”

“And it’s not over, yet, it seems.” Victory waved Mikelos closer. “Mikelos, you already know Liam. But I’d like to introduce you to the man who helped Toria in Nacostina.”

Mikelos clasped Liam’s hand. “Good to see you in town again. Guess this explains why you disappeared on us thirty years ago.”

“I imagine it would be weird to see your girlfriend grow up from a distance.” Toria’s snark cut through the friendly conversation like a knife. “Or your great-great-grandson.”

A complex set of emotions crossed Kane’s face, and he tugged at his ear. “Yeah, that’s not going to stop being weird. My partner is dating my adopted great-great-grandfather.”

Toria glanced away the artifact long enough to waggle her eyebrows at Kane. “Your partner was also friends with your actual great-great-grandmother.”

Asaron’s deep voice rumbled from the room’s entrance. “All of this is weird. Can we get this show on the road?”

The room’s occupants scattered to the edges of the ritual circle, leaving it clear. Liam moved to the side with the vampires and daywalker, exchanging a short greeting with Asaron.

After the three mages conferred in the opposite corner, Archer sank to his knees inside the circle, on one of the abstract designs Victory assumed had some arcane meaning. Kane kicked his boots off and tucked his socks inside them, then he and Toria stood on either side of Archer, their bare feet connected to the floor.

Sparing a short glance to the onlookers, Archer returned his attention to the artifact and set his hands on the ground on either side of the package. Liam inhaled next to Victory, but the water mage left inches of space on either side.

Then—nothing. The three mages’ eyes moved as if they saw a different world inside the ritual circle. Even Liam seemed intent on an unknown view.

Asaron had fallen into a variation of parade rest, where he’d be content to wait for hours, if necessary. Mikelos dug a notepad and pen from his jeans pocket and soon music notes and other shorthand flew across the page, occupying his attention during the wait. Victory shifted her weight from her heels, onto her toes, and back again, unable to look away from the tableau before her.

Minutes later, the kids still hadn’t moved.

After all the hype, and Toria’s dramatics, this was a bit of a let-down. No reason for all of them to be here after all. She turned to Asaron, but his hand flashed out to grip her elbow. “Look.”

In the ritual circle, the edges of the packaging that encased the artifact grew fuzzy. Victory rubbed her face, clearing her vision. But it wasn’t her eyesight. Dirty fog flowed from the package and drifted across the circle. Tendrils flicked toward the mages, but Toria snapped out an upraised palm. The fingers of shadow licked up and down the invisible barrier she maintained. Shimmers of violet rippled around the circle with each touch.

“You got it?” Kane’s deep voice seemed over-loud after the silence, but the strain in his words told Victory more was going on than she saw.

Toria bared her teeth. “For now. Liam, any help would be useful. Hurry, Archer.”

Archer didn’t respond, still intent on the package before him, but Liam’s hands flew in an unfamiliar pattern. Victory had no concept of whatever he did, but when Toria lifted her other hand, tension no longer trembled in her fingers.

Asaron’s grip on Victory’s elbow never wavered as they faced the mysterious scene. Even Mikelos had dropped his pen and paper to his sides.

With a strangled gasp, Archer flew backward, shoved away by an invisible force. Kane caught Archer’s arm before he slid across the slate floor. Toria yelped in mingled surprise and pain, and the invisible barrier surrounding the shadows cracked and failed.

The shadows surged away from the artifact. Victory stepped forward, but now two sets of hands tugged her away. Mikelos’ fingers wrapped around hers, and her sire’s hand never left his iron-tight grip on her arm.

Toria and Kane stepped into the circle, her left hand caught in his right. They exchanged unreadable glances before turning their attention to the circling shadows. Kane closed his eyes, but Toria’s stare never wavered. Ozone scented the room, and the hair on the nape of Victory’s neck raised under the sudden onslaught of static electricity.

Kane must be feeding Toria power. She was going to destroy the artifact.

“No!” Victory ripped herself away from Asaron and Mikelos and lunged into the circle, ignoring their cries behind her.

“Back off, Mom! This has to happen!” Toria flung her outstretched hand at her mother, and an invisible shove pushed Victory away. Electricity crackled in the air, and the magical lights in each corner flared.

The shadows at the ceiling froze in an eerie inverse topography of grays. The room stilled.

It’s you again.

The words reverberated in Victory’s skull as the shadows dove toward her. She threw her arms out, crossing them in front of her face, to no avail. The shadows swept around her, closing off Toria’s horrified face. One by one, her senses failed. A dull darkness overwhelmed her. A now-familiar grip tightened around her sternum, then yanked her up and out and away.