In a wintry forest to the north, two horses bearing riders picked their way through freshly fallen snow, their hooves making soft, muffled crunches. The faint shriek of an owl could be heard in the distance, warning rivals not to stray too close. An icy wind sliced through the snow-laden branches of the tall pine trees, cutting straight through the layers of woolens that Wynn, the Crown Heir of Volturia, wore.
Wynn shivered. He wasn't used to the bone-chilling cold of Montessa, the way it seemed to creep through every layer of wool and fur. The winters of his native southern country were much less brutal, even on the coldest night.
He glanced to his left. Darkness loomed thickly between the branches of the bristling pines, softened though it was by snow. It shouldn't have seemed so ominous to Wynn, but the impenetrable gloom only reminded him why he and his companion were here.
"Can you sense anything yet?" Wynn whispered to his companion, a bearded, burly mage.
"No, not yet." Octavius kept his rumbling voice low, though it carried easily to Wynn in the relative quiet of the night.
Wynn's hands tightened nervously on the reins—he'd expected a witty reply. Octavius must have been more unsettled than he realized. The man had a sharp tongue and no qualms about using it, even though Wynn was the Crown Heir.
His eyes darted across the snowy path in front of them as he looked for tracks, but that only kept him distracted momentarily from the question that had been nagging him for days. What would he do if he couldn't convince his closest friend, Xavier, to abandon the shadows?
The shadows were evil—everyone knew that. Even if they were only superstitions and stories to scare children, they weren't something to fool around with.
Except the past few days had taught Wynn that the shadows were more than stories.
Octavius had told him that only criminals knew of the true existence of the shadow world. Only the foolish dared to enter the shadow world to use their power, and even then, most of them didn't survive. Don't listen to the shadows, he'd often warned Wynn. They'll lure you to their world to steal your body and fulfill their twisted desires. The shadows made you stronger, faster, and nearly invincible, but at a steep cost. Everyone eventually went mad and vanished.
Wynn sighed, his breath puffing out in front of him like a pale white cloud. He had no idea why there was any appeal to losing yourself to the shadows. Even with the power they offered, it seemed a poor trade to him.
He grimaced as he ducked underneath a low-hanging branch. Cold snow managed to find its way to his neck, where it melted into icy drops. He tried unsuccessfully to wipe it away.
Wynn wished it hadn't come to this. He wished he didn't have to track his friend through miles of snow and freezing weather. Every step brought an ever-growing certainty that he would have to follow Xavier into the world of shadows.
If he couldn't convince Xavier that he was making a horrible mistake . . .
Wynn squinted harder at the tracks on the ground. He wished they could activate a Light Stone so he could see better. But that would give away their presence, and he really didn't want to explain to any Montessan why the Crown Heir of Volturia and his mage were sneaking around their countryside at night.
A pile of horse droppings ahead in the snow indicated that they were close. Perhaps only half an hour behind.
His stomach filled with dread.
So close—too close. He'd have to make his decision soon.
As the horses continued their steady plod forward through the snow, Wynn sent a fervent, desperate prayer up to Iados that he wasn't making a terrible decision. That he wouldn't have to follow Xavier into the world of shadows.
The thought of going there made fear shiver down his spine. Frightening childhood tales of nightmare monsters and Octavius's harrowing stories had done nothing to boost his confidence about going in after Xavier. He'd be lucky to make it out alive.
At least he had Octavius with him. He was grateful he'd given the aspiring mage a chance to be his personal mage. Everyone else had looked down on Octavius' criminal past, but now Wynn thanked his lucky stars that Octavius had any experience at all dealing with the shadows. Without him, he'd never have known what was wrong with Xavier nor have the chance to save him now.
"Stop," Octavius hissed suddenly, breaking Wynn from his thoughts. He realized he'd stopped paying attention to Xavier's tracks, which had swung to the side.
Wynn hurriedly pulled his horse to a stop. "What is it? Do you see him? The entrance?"
Octavius pointed to his left. Wynn peered through the gloom of the forest to the spot the mage had pointed out. Between the trees, a patch of darkness swirled like smoke, devouring the thin, watery moonlight that filtered through the pines.
Wynn breathed out a curse, disappointment making his heart sink. "He did it. He chose to join the shadows."
Octavius nodded. "You sure you still want to go through with this?"
Wynn heard the unspoken question in the other man's voice: Can you do what needs to be done?
His hand went to the dagger at his waist, the hilt digging into his palm. He remembered when Xavier had given him the dagger—just before the mission that had changed everything.
"Here," Xavier had said, thrusting a hastily wrapped object at him. "I thought—well, after everything . . . oh, just open it."
Wynn took the object and unwrapped it. The sight of the dagger with its braided leather hilt took him by surprise. It was of Montessan make, unique because only two daggers of this kind were ever created at a time, designed to mirror each other. The interlocking weaves of the matching leather hilts were meant to symbolize family and loyalty.
Emotion choked Wynn, sudden and unexpected. He pretended to examine the dagger more closely to hide the tears in his eyes. Never had he imagined that he would be given this honor. That someone would ever trust him enough to call him brother.
"We're brothers, now," Xavier had said, uncharacteristically serious for once. The twin of his dagger was already at his waist. "Not by birth, but by choice. You guard my back, I guard yours. Loyal until the end."
Pain washed through Wynn, his heart twisting at the memory. "I'll do whatever has to be done."
Octavius nodded. "I'll try to keep it open as long as I can. But remember, don't listen to the shadows. They'll only tell you what you want to hear. They—"
"I know," Wynn snapped, and the mage fell silent with an indignant air.
"Sorry. I wish I didn't have to do this," Wynn whispered, then dismounted as silently as he could manage. He hesitated, then undid the clasp of his heavy fur cloak. It would only slow him down if it came to a fight. He would just have to be quick, and hope that the shadow world wasn't nearly as freezing as this one. They each had a Fire Stone left to keep them warm, but Wynn didn't want to waste it now.
"I'm sorry, too. But he made his choice. You're the only one he might listen to," Octavius murmured. He paused, then added, "Good luck."
Wynn nodded, his throat suddenly too tight for speaking. Octavius's disturbing stories of the world of shadows, glimpses from his brief time working with an organization called the Order of the Silent, were catching up to him now.
And now . . . now, he had to venture in.
By himself.
He took in a deep breath and touched the Montessan dagger at his waist, then his Volturian-made short sword on the opposite side. A reassurance.
There was no Stone that would protect him from the shadows that wouldn't also draw attention to himself, but Wynn desperately wished he could activate something now. Octavius had told him on their frantic ride north that activated Stones drew the shadows in the shadow world like moths to a flame.
The portal swirled sickeningly in front of him, sucking in the moonlight and transforming it into utter blackness. The night grew still as he approached the darkness—an oppressive silence suffocated any sound the forest around him might be making.
For a moment, he hesitated. What if this was a huge mistake? What if it was a trap?
But if their positions were reversed, wouldn't Xavier have come after him? The thought made Wynn square his shoulders. He could do this. He could bring Xavier back.
With one last prayer to Iados for protection, Wynn strode forward into the pitch-black swirl of shadow.
The darkness swallowed him completely—he was blind, surrounded on all sides by the thick blackness. It was like tar, ensnaring him so he could only sink sluggishly through the dense pool of shadow. The air was heavy, much too heavy. He couldn't make his lungs expand to take in the air he needed—
Then the moment was over, and with a gasp, Wynn completed his first step into the world of shadows.
He looked around warily. It was an exact copy of the forest he had just left, but there was a strange, gloomy light that emanated from above, just enough to see by. Eerie bands of white and black vapor twisted and curled through the ashen branches of the monochrome forest.
At the same time, there was an unnerving sense of eyes watching him, coming from everywhere Wynn looked. But nothing was there. Just the odd, twisting mists and the sullen, silent forest.
A suffocating silence blanketed Wynn as he warily crept farther into the world of shadows. He'd thought the real world was quiet, but this was even more so. It was the silence of death.
As he carefully avoided stepping on sticks that looked more like bones, he looked intently at the ground and surrounding underbrush, trying to see where Xavier had gone.
He found tracks relatively quickly, with none of Xavier's usual careful approach to erasing them. Suspicion crept its way into Wynn—what if this was a trap? Or did Xavier just not think anyone would follow him here?
Granted, anyone willing to enter the world of shadows was crazy. Or an idiot.
So what does that make you? Wynn grimaced.
But he followed the tracks anyway. He had to give Xavier the chance to come back. His friend, his brother, deserved that much.
A drifting whisper caught the edges of his hearing. "Wyndham . . ."
The disembodied voice made him shiver. He tried to ignore the sound of his name, tried to ignore the way the mists at his feet were moving in a pattern that mimicked human faces.
"—we can give you the answers you seek, ways to make others listen to you—"
Don't listen to them, Wynn reminded himself. Don't listen to the shadows. Don't listen to them. Don't . . .
He continued forward, chanting the phrase over and over in his head. The shadows would use anything to manipulate him.
More whispers joined the first, mists curling lazily at his feet. Occasionally, they even drew high enough to form parts of bodies—a face here, a hand there. They offered him power, riches, glory, the promise that if he just surrendered to them, they would give him everything he wanted and more—
"We will give you anything you want, anything at all, only give us your body—"Wynn nearly lost his nerve at the mention of his mother. It was true that her murderer had never been caught, never been punished—
"I will not listen to the shadows," he whispered fiercely to himself as he slid forward, crouching just behind a withered bush. "I will not, I will not, I will not—"
In the middle of the dead, gray clearing, Xavier stood with his back toward Wynn. Shades whirled around him, their voices grating as they whispered their lies. Shaped only vaguely like humans, their forms wavered and twisted, like tendrils of smoke. It was dizzying to watch.
Without turning around, Xavier announced coldly, "It took you long enough to get here, Wynn."
Motionless behind the bush, Wynn swallowed hard. How had Xavier known he was there? Had he been too loud, whispering to himself? And was there any point in remaining hidden? It was no time to lose his nerve. He was here to bring his friend back, if possible. And if not . . .
Straightening, he stepped around the bushes into the clearing. "The shadows won't give you what you want, Xavier. All they'll do is consume you. They'll drive you mad."
Part of him noted the strange muteness of his voice, as if he were speaking underwater.
Xavier turned to face him, his eyes glinting. Wynn froze. His friend's eyes should have been a pale, piercing blue. But instead, they were a deep, glistening black.
"Like you would know. You've never talked with them. You don't realize what they can do for us and how easy they are to control." Xavier's stare grew more intense. "All I want is to give people the justice they deserve. People like my parents."
Wynn took another step into the clearing. "Your parents' death was wrong, but that doesn't mean—"
"Your mother was murdered. Doesn't she also deserve justice?" Xavier interrupted. "We've seen too many people who've been wronged. Mistreated. Oppressed. They need us, Wynn. We can help them. And the shadows will only help us do that—I've already seen to it."
He stretched out a hand to Wynn. "You can join with me. Help me. We can cleanse this world of injustice, but I can't do it alone. I need your help."
Wynn recoiled in horror. Xavier wanted him to join with him on his mad crusade?
"I would rather die than let myself be consumed by the shadows. It's wrong, and you know it. And I can't believe you'd be stupid enough to believe their lies," Wynn snapped.
Anger burned in Xavier's eyes. "You've never understood. You grew up in a palace, surrounded by servants to cater to your every whim. You've never known what it takes to survive on the streets. I do. I know what those people go through. With the shadows, I'll make sure no one takes advantage of them ever again. Those pathetic fools you call nobility don't deserve their titles. All they cause is death and misery, so why shouldn't I give them exactly what they deserve?"
"They're people!" Wynn stared at him in disbelief. "Not all of them are bad! Would you kill the innocent to bring justice to the guilty few? Killing them would bring death and misery, too. How does that make you better than them?"
"I never said I was." Xavier clenched his fists and the shades around him writhed. "Why did you come here, if you won't help me?"
"I came here to save you." Wynn swallowed, hating how pathetic his words sounded. "To bring you back."
Xavier laughed, a sound without any mirth that made the hairs on Wynn's neck stand up.
"To save me? Oh, Wynn." Xavier eyed him. "I don't need saving. The world does. But if you won't help me . . ." He trailed off, his hand going to the dagger at his waist. The one with its braided leather hilt, the one that matched Wynn's. It seemed to give him pause.
In that moment, Wynn knew it was over. There was no saving Xavier from the shadows, not here, and not when he'd given himself so willingly to them. And after hearing the whispers from the shadows, Wynn knew that whatever Xavier was planning, it would involve countless deaths.
There was only one way this could end.
Wynn drew his short sword at the same time he launched himself at Xavier. He would need to strike hard and fast if he hoped to win this encounter. Xavier could always best him in a prolonged fight.
But Xavier did not move, his form flickering for an instant.
Wynn's sword passed through open air, his eyes widening as the mirage faded away.
Xavier's voice drifted to him from the side. "You can't hope to defeat me here, Wynn. The shadows are mine." Wynn turned just in time to see Xavier disappear again in wisps of black and white vapor.
The next instant, Xavier stood in front of Wynn, reaching for his throat. Wynn yanked his sword up in defense, but Xavier ripped it from his hands and tossed it aside.
The shadows around Xavier loomed above him, turning darker and thicker until they blocked out whatever light illuminated the forest around them.
"Can you imagine what we could do with this power, Wynn?" Xavier's eyes burned intensely. "Just think of the possibilities. Stop being a fool and consider for a moment what we could accomplish."
"I'll never join you," Wynn snapped. "You're the fool for thinking you can control them. Can't you see they're already controlling you?"
Xavier's eyes darkened. "So be it."
Wynn tried lunging to the side to grab his sword, but Xavier was one step ahead. In an instant, unnaturally powerful hands gripped Wynn by his throat, slamming his back against a tree and cutting off his air.
Gasping and choking, Wynn pulled at Xavier's hands, attempting to throw them off. But it was useless. Wynn tried again and again, kicking and scrabbling to break free, one kick connecting solidly with Xavier's knee. Black stars danced and multiplied in front of Wynn's eyes.
Xavier swore and pushed Wynn toward the ground, tendrils of darkness swirling and thickening until they were covered in a thick cloud. Wynn resisted the crushing force, but his friend was too powerful.
"You are weak," Xavier snarled. "I never should have given you that dagger. How could someone so weak, so stupid, be my brother?"
Wynn dropped to his knees, vision tunneling.
"Xa . . . vier . . . please," Wynn choked, daring to let go with one hand to make a feeble swipe for his friend's dagger. But it was too far away, and his fingers only brushed it.
Xavier's shadow-black eyes flickered icy blue—or was that Wynn's imagination? The fingers on his throat loosened for an instant.
That instant was all he needed. He lurched again, far enough to swipe the knife still hanging at Xavier's waist and stabbed it into Xavier's side.
Xavier's knees buckled. As he fell toward Wynn's left with a gasp, Wynn yanked the knife out to stab at Xavier's heart as they fell, those crushing fingers still around his neck.
Impossibly, one of Xavier's hands landed on Wynn's knife hand, but it was too late. The knife was driven deep into Xavier's heart as they crashed to the ground.
Wynn released the knife and rolled away, coughing and wheezing.
"Traitor," Xavier gasped. Hatred twisted his features. "You didn't come . . . to save me. You . . . came to kill me. What . . . what happened to loyal until the end?"
Guilt flooded Wynn as Xavier's now-bloody fingers weakly gripped the hilt of the knife. The Montessan knot carved into the hilt mocked him, a pattern that was supposed to symbolize their ties to each other, ties that had been broken by Xavier's betrayal.
"You betrayed everything we stood for," Wynn rasped. "I wanted to save you."
"You . . . betrayed me." Xavier's lips peeled back in a snarl. Blood dripped from his mouth, staining his teeth red. "Not . . . the end," he managed to say before his eyes glazed over.
Blood oozed from his mouth and pooled under his body. With a soft exhalation like a sigh, the shadows that had loomed so ominously above Xavier fled.
Wynn crawled to his friend's lifeless body, despair and guilt clenching his heart as hard as Xavier's fingers had squeezed his throat. Hot tears spilled from his eyes, dripping onto the ground. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Iados forgive me, I had to do it. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."
He knew he'd had to do it. He had to. To save the world from Xavier's insatiable hunger for justice, for revenge. It was self-defense, part of him argued. But that didn't change the fact that he'd murdered his closest friend.
He bowed his head and managed to whisper out the only farewell he'd likely get to say in a choked voice. "Farewell, brother. You guarded my back, and I yours. Loyal until . . . until . . ." He couldn't say it. Xavier had broken his oath. Could Wynn even give him the traditional blessing, May you live with Iados in peace? Would he even be allowed to live with Iados after what Xavier had chosen? The thought twisted his heart in agony.
Around him, he could hear whispers again. The shadows were returning.
Wynn looked up, hastily wiping his nose on his sleeve. The black-and-white vapors twisted and danced in the air above him and Xavier's body. They were beautiful in a terrible, haunting way.
If he'd ever been tempted by them, he felt no such temptation now. He hated them. Despised them for what they'd done to Xavier, what they'd led him to do.
The shadows swirled around each other, seeming to deepen and coalesce. Then suddenly, they swooped down toward Wynn and Xavier, making Wynn lurch backwards and scrabble away from them.
From several feet away, Wynn watched in mingled horror and curiosity as they descended onto Xavier's body, cocooning and swaddling it. What were they doing? Would they consume his body now? Would Xavier become one of those shadows?
But the shadows sank into his body instead, making it convulse and jerk. Wisps of shadow darker than the black of night oozed from the bloody wound on his chest, closing it.
A sense of undiluted malevolence saturated the atmosphere, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He somehow got to his feet and ran, glancing backwards only once at the awful scene. He needed to get out of there.
Without any attempt at quieting his movements, he crashed through the underbrush of the dark and eerily silent forest, desperately making his way back to the portal.
What could have been seconds or minutes later, he saw the portal, with its swirling darkness indicating where the barrier between worlds was. He could vaguely see trees and bushes that moved with the wind, and even the outline of a man on a horse. It was still open, thank Iados, though definitely smaller.
He glanced behind him, and what he saw nearly stopped his heart.
Xavier, yards away, was moving toward him with unnatural speed and grace.
A sneer twisted Xavier's bloodless face. "Wynn," he snarled, making his name sound like a curse. His voice echoed strangely, as if multiple people had spoken instead of one. He reached out a hand toward Wynn, his fingers black-soaked claws of shadow. "We will kill you, we swear by the shadows, we will destroy you and everything you love—"
Wynn flung himself through the portal, willing himself to go faster as time and darkness seemed to swallow and hold him. He fully expected to feel those shadow-black fingers on his back, raking through the cloth to the skin underneath—
And then he was through, nearly falling into the cold snow as time resumed again. Scents of pine and sounds of rustling branches pervaded his senses, so welcoming and bright to him after the utter stillness of the world of shadows.
"Wynn? Is that you? Is Xavier—" Octavius sounded surprised.
Wynn stumbled as his foot caught an unseen thing under the snow. "Go. Go! Release the portal!" He tried to yell, but only choking, hoarse sounds came out as he lurched forward, striving to put as much distance between himself and that horrid patch of swirling shadow.
"Wynn, what—?" Octavius started to ask, then cut off, looking horrified at something behind Wynn. He ripped back his sleeves to expose intricate bracers of metal, studded with gemstones, and began tapping frantically at different Stones, muttering things under his breath.
Wynn whipped his head around, nearly making himself fall again.
Shadow-black eyes burning with madness and hate stared back at him through an ever-shrinking patch of darkness. Xavier's mouth twisted into a frustrated snarl as one black-soaked hand reached out, fingers twitching as if they longed to finish what they'd started only minutes earlier.
Wynn jerked away, throat burning at the too-recent memory of those hands crushing the life out of him.
The portal closed, making the awful sight vanish.
Stumbling backwards through the snow, Wynn somehow made it to his horse and got on, tremors in his muscles making the task difficult. Clasping the heavy fur cloak took his trembling fingers too many tries.
"What . . ." Octavius's bewildered voice sounded far away, like he was underwater. "What in Iados' good name happened? Wynn?"
I killed him.
Wynn wheeled his horse around and shakenly kicked it into a gallop. The icy wind cut through his clothes more than it had before, but it was a welcome bite compared to the fiery pain of his throat and the aching in his heart.
What had he done?
He had only meant to stop Xavier. He hadn't meant to turn him into a monster. He hadn't meant to give the shadows a body, to turn his closest friend into . . . into what?
Dimly, he could hear Octavius shouting something at him.
A branch whipped at his cheek, leaving a stinging trail behind.
I didn't want to kill you.
His horse stumbled in the snow, nearly pitching Wynn off. But he urged it forward.
He needed to slow down. He was putting himself and his horse at risk. But he couldn't slow down. He needed to run, to flee, to get as far as he possibly could from this awful forest.
"Wynn! Wynn, you bloody son of a shadow-kisser, slow down!"
A bare hand, fingers already red with cold, snatched at Wynn's reins. Wynn reflexively slapped at it, barely registering that Octavius had caught up with him.
The trees ahead of him thinned as he burst out into a large clearing. His horse stumbled again as it plowed into deeper snow. A particularly sharp gust of wind brought a little clarity to Wynn's mind, and he pulled on the reins, allowing his horse to slow down to a canter.
"Wynn!" Octavius maneuvered his horse in front of Wynn's in a burst of snow, cutting him off even when Wynn tried to go around. "Stop. You're going to kill your horse and break your neck, galloping through the snow like that. What happened?"
Wynn tried moving his horse to the right. Octavius blocked him.
"I . . . I killed him," Wynn said hoarsely. His throat ached fiercely with the words.
Octavius's eyes widened. "But I saw him. We saw him. He . . ."
"Stabbed him. In the heart."
Octavius's eyes flicked down to Wynn's throat. He blinked. "Good Iados, it looks like he did a number to you, too."
He tapped a Stone on his bracer, his brows furrowing. "So if you killed him, how is he still alive?"
Icy tingling in his throat made Wynn grimace instead of responding. The tingle grew to an almost unbearable level before it disappeared. He touched a hand to his throat, where the ache had mostly ceased.
"I healed the bruises, but whatever damage was done to your throat will need to be seen by a real Healer," Octavius said.
Wynn nodded. A headache was beginning to form behind his eyes, pounding with every beat of his heart. He closed his eyes, swaying in the saddle. Everything was starting to catch up with him now. Little flakes of snow blew past on the wind, stinging his face. Trees creaked, and in the distance, he could hear the sounds of nocturnal animals muffled by the incoming snow.
"What happened in there?" Octavius asked quietly.
Wynn opened his eyes. The moonlight glinted off the snow in fractured pieces of light.
Emotions threatened to choke him as he explained hoarsely what had happened, reminding him yet again of those crushing hands. He viciously shoved away the rising guilt and grief over his actions. He couldn't deal with it now. Later. He could deal with it later.
"A shadow-walker." Octavius made a sign against evil and spat to the side. "I don't know much about them, but what I do know isn't good. You're lucky to be alive."
"He said he wanted to kill me and destroy everything I loved." Wynn coughed, wincing at the soreness in his throat. "Not sure if I'm all that lucky."
Octavius was quiet for several moments. "We'll need a plan to stop him. But we need to get you to some Healers, and a storm is heading our way. We should go."
Wynn glanced behind them at the path he'd crashed through. The snow was picking up, beginning to obscure his vision.
He nodded stiffly and the two men set out, this time at a much safer pace.
It seemed they now had much bigger things to worry about.