7. The Shadow Test
1011 Words
Rain pelted the stone gargoyles of St Albion’s Priory as grey clouds rolled in low over London. Leah stood in the west cloister corridor, watching water stream down the stained glass, distorting the saints into trembling silhouettes. It had been two days since her council testimony. The inspection was today.
Lucas emerged from the scriptorium, phone pressed to his ear. “The assessors are thirty minutes out. Three of them. Crownwell subcontracted to a firm called Eldgate Civil.”
Leah raised an eyebrow. “That name sounds... evasive.”
“It is,” Lucas confirmed grimly. “Shell company. Dig a little and you find the same executives who ran that ‘ecological cleanup’ firm that caused three sinkholes in Devon.”
Leah rolled her shoulders, the runes inked on her forearms beginning to pulse. “Then we meet them prepared.”
-----
By noon, the team arrived: a trio of middle-aged men in waterproof trench coats with clipboards, laser measuring tools, and carefully neutral expressions. They were led by a silver-haired man who introduced himself as Mr. Kell.
“We’re here to conduct a non-invasive structural and utility assessment,” he said. “Shouldn’t take more than a few hours.”
Lucas and Fairfax, who had arrived early that morning, flanked Leah on the front steps. “And we’ll be shadowing every step,” Fairfax said smoothly. “Standard procedure when dealing with listed properties.”
Kell inclined his head. “Of course.”
But from the moment the team stepped into the Priory’s threshold, something shifted. Leah felt it immediately—a low vibrational interference in the ley-lines, as though a foreign frequency were being introduced into the system. She narrowed her eyes and whispered to Lucas, “They’re carrying more than instruments.”
“I see it too,” he murmured. “Look at the packs. That one has binding wire and aether nullifiers.”
------
For the next hour, Leah accompanied the assessors room by room. They took readings, whispered among themselves, made odd notes that didn’t align with any standard architectural survey. When they entered the sacred garden—where the main ley-nexus was buried—Leah’s wardstones visibly flickered.
She stopped them cold. “This part of the grounds is restricted. Only those cleared by the Council of Arcane Preservation are allowed access.”
Kell straightened. “With respect, Miss Sinclair, this is a routine compliance survey. If we’re to assess the foundations, we must evaluate all external sites.”
“No,” Leah said firmly. “These grounds are sovereign. The Priory’s charter predates your survey. Any interference with the nexus without a protective conduit is a direct violation of Arcane Safety Law 1879.”
Kell smirked slightly. “That law hasn’t been enforced in over a century.”
Fairfax stepped forward. “Perhaps not, but I have a digital copy of a Court of Chancery ruling from 1923 reaffirming its legitimacy. Shall I email your firm’s compliance office?”
Kell's face twitched.
That was when Leah heard it—the telltale keening of a shadowform breach. Faint, like metal dragging over stone, rising in pitch. Her skin prickled. She turned slowly and saw it: a soft rupture in the air behind the assessors. A c***k in reality.
One of the assessors was fiddling with a palm-sized device. It glowed faint green.
“Step away from the ground!” Leah shouted.
But it was too late. The device activated.
------
The ley-line flared violently. A gust of energy surged through the garden, knocking everyone backwards. Grass seared into patterns, and from the rupture, a massive figure began to emerge—a conglomerate of twisted shadow, humanoid but fluid, shrieking with an ancient, hungry voice.
A bound entity. A ley-wraith.
The assessors screamed and scattered, two of them fleeing entirely. Kell stumbled, clutching a charm around his neck. Leah planted her feet, drawing a rune circle mid-air with her blooded palm, casting the containment ring with practiced precision.
“Lucas!”
He was already beside her, tracing a counter-rune on the stone path. Fairfax stood guard at the garden gate, hand inside his coat.
The ley-wraith lunged at Leah, its voice a whisper that tore at the mind: _"Release me, child of the crypt..."
“No,” she snarled. “You were bound for a reason.”
She slammed her hand down, completing the sigil. The containment snapped shut with a c***k of light. The wraith twisted and howled, bound within a translucent cylinder of force.
Kell, face pale and furious, stumbled toward the exit. “This is assault—this is unlawful containment—”
Fairfax stepped into his path. “This is a violation of arcane protocol, magical trespass, and unlawful breach of containment zones. I have full documentation and at least three witnesses. Shall we call the police or the Department of Magical Safety?”
Kell stared at him, then turned and fled.
------
The sun had begun to lower by the time the garden was cleared. The wraith had been safely re-sealed into its original anchor-stone with the help of a summoned archivist from the Historical Magical Trust.
Leah sat on the edge of the fountain, drenched in sweat, watching the energy settle across the stones.
Lucas handed her a bottle of water. “You were brilliant.”
“Too close,” she murmured. “They were trying to unseat the Priory’s tether. If they’d succeeded—”
“The whole ley grid across west London could’ve destabilized,” Lucas finished.
Fairfax approached, removing his gloves. “Now they’ve revealed their hand. And we have proof.” He held up his phone, where the entire incident had been filmed.
“I’ll send it to press,” he said. “Anonymously. Let the world see what Crownwell truly is.”
Leah looked around at the twilight-blushed Priory. The garden shimmered faintly, the nexus still pulsing, alive.
“They came through shadows,” she whispered. “But we stood.”
Lucas put a hand on her shoulder.
“And we’ll stand again.”
- Writer
