The Amazon.com Breakthrough Novel Awards are underway again, and my entry this year is an old friend. With most of my novels in a state of revision, I trotted out Reality Check, which was the first novel I ever finished and is still one of my best works to this day. As of today, Reality Check has cleared the first round of the contest, surviving the cut from 10,000 entries down to 2,000.

The opening round of ABNA is not based on anything actually between the covers of the book, but rather on how well an author can promote the work. This is unfair in some ways, but does reflect the publishing industry well – if a writer can’t put together a good query letter, then the book will never, ever sell. In the case of Reality Check, I first published this book back in 2008 and have learned a lot about promotion since. The current book (on sale at Amazon.com – get the first edition while you still can!) has the following blurb on the back of the book:

In the near future, humanity has used technology to unravel almost all of life’s mysteries. The only boundary we have left is the that of death. When Anne Westfeld is shot in the streets of New Chicago, her loved ones experience that boundary of death first hand. Then something strange happens. Six months later, Anne returns from the grave. She walks right back into her life, just like she was before. Now Anne’s closest friends must work together to figure out exactly how she came back, and if she’s really the same person they lost. The reality of the situation is deeper than they know, and will take all of them to their physical and emotional limits.

This is not terrible, but it’s not great either. It doesn’t do a lot to distinguish itself from any other generic sci-fi novel out there.

The first round of ABNA requires a pitch of 300 words, which is somewhere between a blurb and a query letter. This is what got me through this round:

In the streets of New Chicago, many things are possible. But even in a world where cars can fly and cybernetics can be bought on the streets, there is always one eternal rule: dead means dead.

Anne Westfeld apparently just broke that rule.

Six months ago, Anne took a bullet to the heart. Now she’s back with a perfect body and a clear mind. She can pick her life up right where she left off, just as long as she doesn’t ask any questions.

Greg Crispin is a burned out street doctor who not only lost his best friend with Anne’s death, but very nearly lost his mind. When Anne shows up on his doorstep as good as new, it seems too good to be true. Will Greg accept what he has and cling to this new happiness, or will he reopen old wounds by trying to find the secrets of his friend’s resurrection? And if he can find out the truth, does Anne want to know?

Reality Check is a 75,000-word tale that reads like a mash-up of Raymond Chandler and William Gibson. Although it takes place in a dark, futuristic landscape, it follows the sensibilities of classic film noir, with femme fatales, a deadly mystery, and a hero that might be too inquisitive for his own good. As Anne and Greg each grapple with the mystery in their own ways, they must face a key question: if science can replace a body and mind, can it also replace a soul?

This one does a much better job of explaining what the story is about and emphasizing its selling points – rather than bill it as just another sci-fi story, I’m emphasizing the similarities between Reality Check and film noir. Some of it still reads kind of like the cheesy dialogue you’d expect at the beginning of a movie trailer, but that’s almost a necessity in the industry nowadays – it’s harder and harder to approach a book as just a book rather than trying to get it to cross over with another medium.

Reality Check still has an uphill battle to fight in this contest, since it’s a sci-fi novel in a competition where science fiction usually doesn’t do terribly well. But getting past this first round is a good sign, and hopefully some of the retooling I did to the opening chapter quickened the pace and made the beginning appealing enough for me to get past the next cut, where the books are judged based on their first 5,000 words. Stay tuned.

Comics has always had a tough time with female superheroes. In the beginning they were generally dismissed as useless. The great contributions of the Wasp and the Invisible Girl in the 1960s was designing costumes for their respective teams. Wonder Woman tended to get captured about as often as she saved the day. This was reflective of the attitude toward women in the 60s. And yet while societal views toward women have become more progressive, comics still struggle handling female heroes in a respectful way. Only now, instead of being useless, comics make women sex kittens. But hey, is that so bad? I mean, at least readers get hot women, right?

Well, sort of. I actually maintain that a lot of comic book women aren’t really that hot.

The problem really became clarified to me when I read Heroes for Hire #11 and noticed this panel:

Misty Knight's amazing talking boobs.

Yeah, that’s Misty Knight, and her breasts apparently have gained the power of speech.

This isn’t the only panel in that issue where that happens. There’s no artistic reason to have the character’s head completely cut out of the panel other than the fact that comics artists love boobies. And that’s fine – I’ve got no problem with hot chicks. However, I also notice that a lot of folks in the comics industry are quite concerned with why there are so few female fans.  I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess, but maybe it has something to do with the fact that the creators don’t seem to think that having a woman’s face in a comic is a necessary thing.

The big problem, though, isn’t with the fact that women are objectified. Men are objectified in comics, too. Want proof? Gaze into the beauty of Hal Jordan’s hypno-ass.

Hell, even I want to squeeze that thing.

But Hal Jordan also gets awesome moments like this:

I hate this story, but this is a pretty cool panel.

Finding an awesome moment for Misty Knight only yielded this in an Internet search:

Okay, not totally true, but it makes my point eloquently.

Here’s the thing with comic book women: just having them stand around posing like supermodels does not interest me. If I want to see unrealistically proportioned women waving their tits at me, I’ll look for actual porn. What I want out of my hot women in comics is some awesome.

Heroes for Hire #11 features the female members of the group doing just about nothing. They speculate on one another’s sex lives like gossip girls, then watch as Humbug kills an alien baby, douses them in its blood, and drags them aboard the alien mothership. Seriously…they don’t even offer an objection beyond “Eww.” And because of that, talking boobs aside, I just can’t care about Misty Knight. She does nothing.

I can’t pretend to guess what women want out of comics. So instead, I’ll just clamor for what I want: I want hot women, but I want them to be doing something.

You know who I think is sexy in comics? Wonder Woman. Because she has moments like these:

Walking through fire without being burned.

That’s a cheesecake shot, but it also follows up Wonder Woman walking through a blast of dragon’s fire. Call me crazy, but I think women being badass is really hot (YEAHHHH!).

I’ll allow Power Girl to further explain my stance on comic book women.

Standing on the runway?

This image of Power Girl does nothing for me. She’s just a badly-proportioned woman here. Yet this is the type of thing that typically graces a cover these days. Why do I care about some poor anorexic broad with massive tumors growing out of her chest? She’s not standing in a dynamic pose, she’s not doing anything, and she even has a vacuous expression on her face. In short, she is boring. From a sex appeal angle, I could get the same effect out of ogling women in a Victoria’s Secret catalog.

Power Girl versus Wonder Woman

This shot, by comparison, offers a lot more appeal to me. This is Power Girl and Wonder Woman throwing down. There’s something happening. In the next panel, Power Girl lifts a bus over her head. In the issue, she literally punches Wonder Woman into Canada. And while I’m enjoying the action, there’s a nice ass shot here. I don’t mind that. I can find pictures of women’s butts anywhere, but only in comics can I find pictures of an alien woman’s curvaceous bottom while she punches a Greek demigoddess into another country.

That is what comics offers. If you’re going to include cheesecake and women dressed like whores, make them do awesome stuff while they’re at it. Otherwise, comics offers nothing that the underwear section of a JC Penney catalog doesn’t.

So, in short, I have no problem with boobies. But I want the owners of those boobies to do something other than just stand around posing. There are far too few examples in comics of well-endowed women fighting robot dinosaurs. I think that needs to change.

A white plume erupted from the ground as the woman’s magical force sent a burst of snow in all directions. Garyl and Samuel separated, diving away from each other and rolling off the road to dodge the attack. Garyl found his feet quickly, but not quickly enough to dodge an attack from the newly created shadow-woman. The witch’s claws raked across his chest, cutting him as deeply as a knife and sending a familiar burn through his body. Despite the pain, Garyl brought up his own sword to bear, catching the woman’s black claws against its sharp point.

“Why did you call me Kajeel?” The woman’s eyes flickered in anger.

“Because, like it or not, that’s who you are.” He brought up his knee, catching the witch in the stomach. She gave a grunt, but only took one step back. That step was all Garyl needed to gain some leverage. He shouted a magic syllable, and the usually pale glow given off by Thiavain erupted into a column of light. The witch shouted and reeled backwards, momentarily dazed.

In the moment that the witch was staggered, Samuel raced in from her flank, his blades whirling like a steel tempest. The woman turned part way to face him, keeping one eye on Garyl all the while. For a few fleeting seconds, all three combatants looked like they were engaged in some sort of complex dance. Samuel lunged forward with one blade, missing the shadowy woman’s throat by a hair. The witch raked her claws down the blade and toward the bounty hunter’s arm, but he retreated at the last second. Then his second blade came in for an attack, only to be caught in the witch’s free hand. He pulled away, leaving only a scratch on her seemingly impenetrable skin. Then he backpedaled and lunged back forward, swinging both swords in a wide arc. The woman ducked underneath the blades, but then had to roll backwards as Samuel brought the weapons down in two quick circles, forming a rapid figure eight.

The witch stood up again, her full attention locked on Samuel. That was when Garyl made his move, hitting her from behind. He connected with the flat of his glowing blade, catching her in the shoulder and almost knocking her over. The witch looked incredulously at the bruise on her arm, wondering why Garyl hadn’t taken the opportunity to do more damage.

“She’s not our problem.” Garyl cast a sidelong glance toward Samuel, and the bounty hunter nodded. “Take care of Mitos. The rest will fall into place.”

“Gladly.” With a wide grin, Samuel changed directions and charged toward Mitos. The blonde man backpedaled, but couldn’t escape the expertly directed swords in Samuel’s hands. The blades wove around the bandit, using feints and misdirection to confuse him before finally striking toward his skull. Mitos flinched, but quickly recovered when he realized that the killing blow didn’t come. Opening his eyes, he saw Samuel straining to finish the strike. But the bounty hunter remained trapped in mid-lunge, as though time had stopped around him.

Mitos smiled and stepped out of the path of the swords. He raised the orb and gave it a reassuring tap. “You’re a decent enough fighter, Samuel. Too bad that doesn’t count for much against me.” Mitos looked toward the witch. “Deal with him.”

The woman waved her arms in wide circles, one toward Garyl and the other toward the paralyzed Samuel. A sudden gale rose, pushing Garyl backwards even as he tried to move forward. Samuel got it worse. Shade’s magic lifted him off his feet and threw him into the air like a rag doll. The bounty hunter fell to earth with a thud and a groan almost twenty yards away.

Mitos watched as Samuel picked himself up. The bounty hunter moved slowly, but his pride pushed him to move back toward the fight despite broken bones and bruised organs. Even with the swordsman’s wounds, Mitos chose to withdraw closer to his new slave for protection. The witch, meanwhile, was dealing with the other attacker.

“What do you want?” The witch’s face contorted into an ugly snarl when she asked Garyl the question. “Why are you still following me? I’m not Kajeel anymore. Don’t you understand that?”

“You mean you don’t want to be Kajeel anymore,” answered Garyl. While the nightfolk spoke, he kept Thiavain moving, using the glow of the blade to keep the witch off balance. “You don’t want to be her anymore, because you’ve figured out what that would mean.”

“Why would I want to be that weakling, anyway? I’m stronger as Shade. I don’t have to run anymore. And once I free myself from Mitos, no one will ever hurt me again.”

Garyl gave a half-smile. “You’re not Shade. Shade doesn’t even exist.”

Before the witch had a chance to understand those words, Garyl lunged with his blade. He swept it to the side when the woman dodged the blow. The second swing came close enough to cut away a lock of the witch’s hair. The black tress fell to the ground and then evaporated into smoke. Garyl’s victory was short-lived, though. A second later, he found himself fending off his foe’s increasingly furious blows.

“Why don’t you just leave me alone?” growled the shadow-woman. “I don’t need another demon in my life. Just leave me be!”

“If you really want me gone, then tell me yourself – in a form I can recognize. Show me the real Kajeel. I know she’s still in there somewhere. Give her a chance to tell me to leave with her own lips.”

“She already told you, back in the village. Deny it all you want; she still ran away from you.”

Garyl parried another blow from the witch. He went low, and kicked at her legs. She jumped over his kick and delivered a blow of her own that glanced off his shoulder. His sword caught her claws just before they dug into his neck.

“She ran away from you, too,” said Garyl. “She’s been running away from the creature called Shade from the beginning. At least she ran to me at first.”

“Garyl…” The witch’s eyes flickered, and for a moment Garyl saw the softness of Kajeel’s face through the witch’s mask of shadows. “I know what I am now. Shade’s been inside me all along. She was a part of me.” Whatever was left of Kajeel disappeared quickly, returning to the shadows. “I was foolish. I was running away from her, when I should have wanted to become her.”

Garyl staggered backwards, withdrawing from the melee. His breath formed into white steam as it came out of his mouth in short gasps. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Samuel approaching. He wasn’t about to wait for that backup.

“Foolish?” His voice almost became a laugh. “How could anyone who runs away from creatures like us be considered foolish? Look at us, Kajeel! We’re both monsters. If anything, you were brilliant to want to get away.”

“Shut up!” The witch’s arm shot out, and she grabbed Garyl by the throat. The nightfolk didn’t try to stop her, even as her claws began tightening around his windpipe. “I’m not like you. I’m not going to run away from who I am anymore.”

“You’re…still…running.” Garyl’s voice became a croak as it grew harder for him to breathe.

From behind Shade, Samuel gave a growl and swung his swords. Mitos raised a blade of his own to parry, but to no avail. A loud crack filled the air, and the bandit’s blade fell to the ground, shattered by Samuel’s expertly placed blow. Shade dropped Garyl and whirled around, holding out her hands just as Samuel’s struck toward her master’s heart. The bounty hunter’s steel crashed against the air and turned aside, as though they had hit an invisible wall. With a shout, the witch sent Samuel flying backwards again. This time, the swords flew out of his grasp when he hit the ground. The woman moved to finish the job, but stopped when she heard Garyl standing back up.

“I’ll just have to kill you both,” she said, raising one hand toward the sky and conjuring another wave of magical force. “If that’s what it takes to keep you away, that’s what I’ll do.”

“But how will you deal with him?” Garyl gestured at Mitos, who had now retreated a safe distance away from the battle. The bandit still held the glittering black orb in the palm of his hand. “He’s got the orb; he’s got your soul.”

“He’s got Kajeel’s soul.”

“You should know by now that it’s the same thing. It always was, and it always will be.”

“What is it going to take to shut you up?”

“Just one thing.” Before the witch had a chance to respond, Garyl leapt forward. He grabbed her by the chin and kissed her. Fire danced between their lips as the two magical beings came together. The witch’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t pull away. An unnatural wind picked up around them, kicking up snow and dirt in a cyclone that kept Samuel and Mitos at bay. The world melted away, and the two mages felt their minds fade beneath a blanket of darkness.

***

Kajeel…Kajeel, can you hear me?

It seemed like ages since she had known anything but darkness. Mitos had captured her, body and soul. Now she felt like she had been shrunk down and forced inside that tiny black orb.

Kajeel…listen to my voice.

She stirred. She thought she opened her eyes, but she still saw nothing but darkness. The wind howled around her, and she could feel the cold of the snow. But if the rest of the world existed at all, she was blind to it.

One image reached her eyes, isolated and outlined in the darkness. She saw Garyl, and she saw Shade. She saw them kissing, and her blood grew hot.

“What…what are you doing?” Her voice was weak, and her throat was dry.

The image of the pair faded away, leaving Kajeel in blackness. Garyl’s voice, though, lingered on.

“Can you hear me?”

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“I had to connect with you somehow. You’re trying so hard to block me out. Something drastic like that was the only way I could think of.”

“What are you talking about?”

Something stirred at her side, and Kajeel felt the touch of Garyl’s slender fingers. “Kajeel, you need to end this.”

“End what?”

“You need to take control.”

Kajeel’s next words were more reflexive than anything else. She knew what they meant, but she didn’t realize she was saying them until they were already out.

“I don’t want to.”

“You’ve already figured it out. Now you just have to accept it. Accept it, or more people are going to die.”

She finally opened her eyes, and the whiteness of the world burned. Garyl was lying next to her, touching her arm as he lay face-up in the snow. His breathing was labored, and his skin was blistered as though he had suffered a bad burn. Kajeel heard the clash of steel on steel, and turned her head to find a haggard-looking Samuel frantically fighting off Mitos, who had picked up one of the bounty hunter’s own swords to finish him off.

“You’re finally coming back,” whispered Garyl. “Good.”

“I’m sorry.” Kajeel felt a lump form in her throat as she looked at her former companion. “I didn’t mean to let Shade loose. I didn’t know what she was.”

“I know. But you can’t be scared anymore. You need to end it now.”

Kajeel pointed a finger at Mitos. But her hand trembled, and the darkness came over her again. The burst of force that flew forward didn’t hit the bandit, but instead struck Samuel. The bounty hunter’s blade cracked and burst into a hundred different shards. He dropped the hilt, and Mitos stabbed him in the side. Red blood spurted from beneath Samuel’s long coat, and the warrior stumbled.

“What I am…I can’t face that.” The world continued to grow darker as shadows enveloped her again. “I have to keep walking this path I’m on.”

“Kajeel, look at me.”

She turned her head to see Garyl’s bright orange eyes staring intensely into hers.

“I had forgotten about a legend I read before – the legend of the Shadow Queen. In the ancient days, when the elders were the only people who walked this land, there was a powerful priestess. She was a favored soul of Ameterra, and the goddess gave her great power. It was a mistake on Ameterra’s part; mortals aren’t familiar with that kind of might. To the priestess, it was like looking into the sun. There was so much power there – so much divine light – that it blinded her. All she saw was a great darkness. That darkness overwhelmed her, and she went mad. She became the Shadow Queen, and killed thousands before she was finally subdued. That woman was the first of the nightfolk; she didn’t even recognize that she was actually a being of light until after the elders took it all away.

“You have that kind of power – you’ve had it since you were born. Some part of you always knew that, even before you learned how to control it. Whatever magic is inside you, be it from the goddess or from somewhere else, it scares the hell out of you. You haven’t been able to control it or even understand it. So you created Shade. The reason no one could hurt her, the reason no one could stop her, was because she wasn’t real in the first place. She’s you, Kajeel. She’s a reflection of your fears. Like it or not, the blood she spilled is on your hands. But you can live with that. I can show you how. But first, you have to end this now.”

Kajeel closed her eyes again. She fought against her thoughts. She fought against her past. If what Garyl had said was true, Shade was nothing more than her invention. She had created the shadowy monster, which meant…

Which meant she was responsible for everything.

The people who turned her away from her home, her own father – they were all right. She was a witch, as dangerous and deadly as the legends had mentioned. And now Garyl and Samuel were about to die. Every person Shade had harmed or would ever harm was blood on her hands. She felt a sour sensation surge in her throat and almost retched at the thought. Nonetheless, she stood up.

“Stop.”

She held up her hands, and felt the force inside her spill out. The ground trembled. The world bent, and for a moment it seemed like it would break in half. Garyl, Mitos, and Samuel tumbled away against the force. Snow flew in all directions, until Kajeel was standing on a circle of brown earth.

“You understand, then?” Kajeel heard Shade’s voice in her ear. The shadow-witch was nowhere to be found, though, because she had been inside Kajeel all along. “You understand what I tried to show you all along? You need me.”

Kajeel shook her head. “I’ve been a slave to you for years. So many years of my life wasted, all because I couldn’t face my fears.”

“You don’t have to face your fears,” said Shade. “You don’t have to face anything. Let yourself become me, and the past can all be forgotten. When you’re this powerful, you don’t have to be held responsible for anything.”

To the others on the battlefield, it looked like Kajeel was talking to herself in two different voices. As each voice spoke, the light around her would shift, making her either an innocent girl or an evil witch.

“Look around you, girl,” said Shade. “These people here, they’re nothing. Garyl is a murderer and worse. He has spent decades earning the mark he wears. Samuel is a mercenary who kills for money. More than that, he’s proud of what he does. And Mitos…”

“Mitos still has the orb,” said the bandit, picking himself up. “As long as I have it, I have power over you – whatever form you choose to take. And you’ll do my bidding, no matter what.”

Kajeel abandoned her conversation and turned to face Mitos. “You took a piece of my soul. But my soul’s been in pieces for years. Which part did you really take, Mitos?”

“Do you really want to find out?”

The light shifted. For a moment, everything seemed darker to Kajeel. Then she realized that it was just the sun moving through the low gray clouds. “Yes. I do.”

Mitos held the orb high and gave a shout. The swirling silver fog inside grew brighter as he exerted his will over hers. But despite that, Kajeel felt no pain. She stepped forward again, changing form once more. This time, though, she didn’t use the shadows as a hiding place. She drove the darkness away from her, pushing out what pieces of Shade remained lurking in her soul. Her skin glowed brilliantly, giving off a white light that nearly blinded everyone else. She reached forward and touched the orb. Spark began to fly from her fingertips, and Mitos’ arm shuddered as he tried to hold onto the relic.

“No,” said the bandit. “My will is stronger. You will obey me!”

Mitos pushed forward, pressing the orb against the lady of light’s palm. A crack formed along the rock’s smooth surface. With a deep breath, Kajeel pushed forward. The energy crackled around her, and she pushed her own hand against the orb.

“You can only control something if you understand it,” she said. “I finally understand.”

“This is all I’ve ever understood!” Mitos has to shout to be heard over the thunder of energy – the tempest of his will pushing against Kajeel’s. “I control power. Do you hear me? I control—”

Before he could finish, the orb shattered. It didn’t create an explosion this time, though. The energy of the orb flowed through Kajeel, burning her but leaving her alive. The magic was pressed between two wills: hers and the bandit’s. Its only way to escape was through them. Gritting her teeth, Kajeel focused all the energy she had left into weathering the pain. She understood her power now; she knew exactly how much she could take.

Mitos wasn’t so lucky. A ghostly wail poured out of his mouth as the energy of the broken orb flowed through his arm. He saw black lightning trail across his flesh, illuminating the bone underneath. Still he pushed forward, refusing to accept his battle as lost. The energy continued to flow through him. He felt his skin burn. His bones turned black. He pushed onward, and watched his hand dissolve into dust. The magic tore through his body, consuming him. All his life, he had controlled power. Now that power and destroying him from the inside out. Mitos gave one last determined shout before he fell backwards, burned through to his bones. He didn’t move again.

The maelstrom lasted for one more moment, and then began to subside. The world returned to normal, and Samuel and Garyl picked their bruised and bleeding bodies off the ground. Kajeel looked at her feet, and found one last fragment of the black orb. She bent over and picked it up. It dissolved in her fingertips, sending a silver puff of smoke into the air.

And that was the end of it. There was no more darkness, and there was no more light. There was just Kajeel.

Previous Chapter

Kajeel woke up underneath the snow-covered pine bough of a hastily built lean-to. She felt the familiar stiffness that came with a night sleeping on the ground, but that was the only discomfort she had to deal with. Despite the snow storm and the freezing temperatures of the night, her body had stayed warm all night – a small sampling of Shade’s power.

You’ll keep traveling north today. We’re going further than Nevermoor this time. I want to get out of Blackwood and see the Northern Realms. Shade’s voice was in her head now, and she didn’t see the shadow-woman anywhere. More accurately, she saw Shade everywhere. Every shadow, every nook and cranny of the landscape that could possibly hide anyone held Shade. The witch was out there, watching her. As long as Kajeel followed her orders, no one else would be hurt. Especially not Garyl.

“There’s nothing up north,” said Kajeel to the ubiquitous voice in her mind. “The Northern Realms are just a bunch of clans and old duchies. They’re practically barbarians up there.”

You’ve been in the borders of Blackwood for too long. The men of this realm consider all outsiders to be barbarians.

Kajeel pulled herself out of the lean-to. With a wave of her hand, she snapped the ropes that tied to trees together, sending heavy mounds of snow flying across the small grove as the trees pulled themselves straight again. “But why the north? What’s up there for us?”

It’s a new world. A smaller world. There is open land there, land where you and I can find a place of our own. Then I can show you.

“Show me what?”

What I’ve wanted to show you from the beginning: your true power.

“Power…right.” Her stomach rumbled, but she didn’t complain. She just began walking north, following the mental tug of the invisible Shade. Everybody wanted power. Garyl gave up pieces of his soul in order to use his magic. Mitos risked his life to harness the strengths of others. And Shade threatened others in the name of power. More than anything, Kajeel would have liked some true might of her own. Not the few parlor tricks she knew, but the power to live her own life – to make her own decisions.

Keep moving, said Shade’s voice. I’ll find food for you up ahead. For now though, you have many miles to go.

“Miles to go, and never a chance to rest.” Kajeel put one foot in front of the other, leaving deep tracks across the snow-covered plains. Shade’s magic had kept her warm for the night, but it didn’t stop her soul from feeling empty.

* * *

Bundled in furs and walking on snowshoes, Mitos watched Kajeel from hundreds of yards away. Despite the distance, he saw every detail of the girl’s troubled face as though he were standing right next to her.

“Well, what do you know? This thing works.” He lowered the spyglass and snapped the telescopic tube shut. The novelty had come from some nameless inventor in a forgotten raid. When his men couldn’t eat it, smoke it, or spend it, they figured it was useless. Mitos himself always found a use for his prizes.

Without the spyglass, Kajeel was nothing more than a speck on the white horizon. Still, the snowstorm had done him a major favor; it had kept most sane travelers locked away inside and protected from the weather. That made it easy to find the crazy ones – the special ones who could tolerate those freezing conditions.

“You seem to be all alone. But someone like you is never alone. Isn’t that right, Kajeel?”

Making a mental path that would intercept the lone figure, Mitos strode out across the plain. This was going to be a very good day.

* * *

What’s different? Kajeel wondered. What’s changed?

She kept her thoughts quiet, if such a thing was possible. Shade seemed to control her every breath. Kajeel hoped that at least her deepest thoughts could be somewhat private.

Shade had chased her for years. Now that she had finally been caught, the shadow-woman stayed out of sight, guiding her through mental commands and implied threats. Maybe Shade didn’t want her to feel like a prisoner, and so gave her at least some illusion that she was free. That illusion was easy to see through, though. If Kajeel was really free in any way, she wouldn’t be traveling north. She would have turned around long ago and returned to the Monastery of the Immortals.

But I can’t keep running. Shade knows how to hit where it hurts now. She had spent so long running away from the woman, the demon, whatever she was. Shade had threatened many people along the way, and even killed some. The prospect of Shade’s black claws gripping Garyl’s throat made her sick with fear – a fear she hadn’t felt since she first fled from home. In a way, she hated Garyl. If she hadn’t gotten close to him, she could still be running.

Maybe he’s safe now. He certainly won’t be following me. She knew a thing or two about forgiveness – specifically, how not to get it. She knew where to cut Garyl where it hurt the most. With the right words, she had ensured that the nightfolk would never want to see her again. In a way, it was a small blessing.

“Don’t get too comfortable with that idea.” Shade’s voice echoed in her ear, even though Kajeel couldn’t see her anywhere. “A demon-mage wouldn’t be hard to track. I could find him, and I could do all manner of horrible things to him if you try to run again. Rhys Devir will never be able to hide from me.”

Kajeel stopped walking. The blood drained out of her head. Suddenly, she felt faint. “How do you know his true name?”

“I watched you with him. I was near you whenever he spoke. I know every moment the two of you spent together. You can’t hide from me. Not ever. Now get moving again. Unless you’d rather I turn around and head back to the monastery…”

Without saying anything or thinking anything, Kajeel quickened her pace. Her mind went numb. Shade could read her thoughts and see all of her secrets. With that knowledge, she let her mind go blank. She focused simply on walking, putting one foot in front of the other and marching ever northward. She went through the day without eating and without resting; Shade’s magic kept her from growing hungry or tired. The lonely numbness of the cold was all she knew. Her only companion was the crunch of snow under her shoes.

Then, someone found her.

Her eyes had glazed over, and she hadn’t really paid attention to the world for hours. When the figure began approaching from down the road, she almost passed him by with nothing more than a weary nod. It wasn’t until she was standing only a few yards away that she recognized the blonde man who approached.

“You!” As soon as she realized that Mitos was standing right in front of her, she leaped backwards, ready for a fight. She summoned the energy inside of her, preparing to lash out with all the magical force she could muster.

Mitos didn’t move to fight or flee. He spread his arms and turned his palms to face Kajeel, a sign to show he was unarmed. “I’m not looking for a battle.”

Kajeel’s body remained tense, but she held her attack. “What do you want?”

“Let me start by telling you what I don’t want. I don’t want to kill you. In fact, I don’t plan on harming a hair on your head. I want to help you.”

“How can you help me?”

Mitos ignored the question. Instead, he looked around, making sure the two of them were really alone. “Where’s Garyl? Don’t tell me he’s abandoned a pretty young girl like you.”

Kajeel shifted from foot to foot. She breathed out a long, soft sigh through her nose, and watched as that warm air became steam in the winter morning. “He’s…gone.”

“I know.” Mitos smiled darkly, as though he had just made some small joke that only he was privy to. “And you’re all alone.”

A cloud passed over the sun, making the whole world a bit darker. “No…I’m never alone.”

Mitos’ green eyes remained as shrewd and sharp as ever. He leaned forward, speaking more confidentially to Kajeel even though there seemed to be no one else around. “But you want to be alone, don’t you?”

Kajeel didn’t respond. She could feel Shade’s presence looming in her mind, waiting for an answer.

“You don’t have to say it, but I know it’s true. I know a lot about you, Kajeel – more than anybody else does, I wager. More than even you know about yourself.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I know about Shade. She’s followed you, hounded you for years. She’s driven everybody who ever loved you away. But you don’t even know why, do you? Why would someone like her bother with a frightened girl like you?”

“I’ve got power in me. She wants to use that somehow.”

“You’ve got a smattering of magical ability. You’re a thief, not a wizard. You might be able to float a few coins into your palm, but how does that power compare with the kind of magical might Shade wields every day? She doesn’t need you…not because of your magic, at least.”

“What other reason would there be?”

Mitos’ confidence pushed his grin wider. “She’s a parasite, a magical leech. She’s grafted herself onto your soul. She needs a young woman like you to feed on. That’s why she keeps you on the run. She doesn’t want you to relax and realize what’s going on. She doesn’t want you to suddenly notice how tired you are – how lonely and exhausted she’s made you.”

Mitos’ words seemed to weigh down her eyelids. She was tired. She had been for years. Could he be telling me the truth?

“I can help you, Kajeel.” Mitos reached into his pocket and removed a familiar black orb. Upon seeing it, Kajeel’s eyes went wide, and her guard came back up.

“Help me? Like you helped Garyl?” Her eyes flashed, and the energy inside her began surging again. “I won’t be your slave!”

The air folded in front of Mitos, and the bandit dove to the ground, narrowly dodging the invisible force that Kajeel summoned. “Hear me out,” he shouted. “This is different.”

Kajeel kept her magic at the ready, but stayed her hand as Mitos stood up and dusted snow off of his coat.

“Hear me out,” the bandit repeated. “Yes, I used an orb like this to enslave Garyl.”

“Then I should kill you now.”

“Wait!” Mitos held up a pleading hand. Surprisingly, Kajeel did hold back long enough for him to explain. “I captured Garyl with this because he was useful to me. He had power – power I could use. You’ve got power too, but you don’t know how to harness it. I want a witch who can do more than lift a few small objects or throw the occasional burst of force. I want Shade.

“Like I said, she’s grafted herself onto you,” continued the bandit. “This orb allows me to manipulate a person’s spirit. I can use it to reach into your soul and take what I want, while freeing you at the same time. If I take Shade for myself, you’ll be free. You can live a normal life again.” The slight smile returned to his face. “You could even go back to Garyl.”

“Garyl…” Would Garyl even want to be with her? “I…I don’t know.”

“Even if you don’t go back to him, think of the type of life you can live. You’re young and strong. You can do anything – be anything. The only person holding you back is Shade.”

The images of the people Kajeel had lost flashed through her mind. Still, she found herself filled with hesitation. She wanted to believe Mitos, but a nagging feeling inside her screamed her doubt. “I can’t trust you. You’re a thief and a murderer.”

“You don’t have to trust me.” Mitos raised the orb. The light of the sun flickered through it. It seemed transparent in the light, save for a smoky gray mist that swirled about inside. “I just needed to stall you for a few moments. I’ve been using the orb all along.”

Kajeel’s face went pale. She tried to step forward, but found that her feet were heavy as iron. Blood rushed into her ears, drowning out all other sounds with his heavy pounding. Mitos continued speaking, but she couldn’t hear a word he said. The world grew darker. She thought she saw Shade moving in the shadows, shouting something. But by then the world was spinning out of control. Her soul began draining into the orb, leaving nothing but emptiness inside of her.

* * *

The shadows grew deeper on the plain, although night was nowhere close to falling. Light seemed to drain out of the world. Then, just as quickly as it had left, it returned – save for one spot.

The spot where Kajeel once stood now held the form of a different person. She had all of Kajeel’s features, but stood draped in darkness. The shadows that clung to her seemed to change her features, making them darker and more mature. Her hair changed color from brown to black, and her eyes became a solid black mass. It was as though the creature known as Shade and the woman known as Kajeel had merged.

The new woman looked at Mitos with a gaze as black as a night sky. The bandit felt a vibration in the stone he held. The energy charged up his arm, fighting his will. Gritting his teeth, he fought back. The dull ache of the magic wore off, and he reasserted his will over the stone.

“I know what you are,” he said to the newly appeared woman. “For right now, what you are is my slave.”

The woman looked at Mitos without anger or resentment. She shrugged her shoulders, passively accepting his command. “If you say so.”

“I do. And you’ll be coming with me.”

The woman nodded casually, as though this chain of events was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “I have no other choice, I suppose.”

The crunch of another pair of feet in the snow told Mitos he wasn’t alone. The bandit and the witch both turned to see two warriors just a little way down the road. Mitos frowned when he saw them, but not out of dismay.

“You never could surprise me, Garyl.” His voice carried to the nightfolk, who stood defiantly in the snow. Next to him, Samuel drew his swords. “And you…well,” Mitos gave a sarcastic smile. “I guess your reputation isn’t as important as you said. Otherwise, you wouldn’t betray your employer.”

“My word only matters to people who have my respect,” said Samuel. “You don’t have my respect, so it was foolish to trust me to begin with.”

“But you’ll throw in with a demon instead?”

“He’s proven to be worth my time.” The bounty hunter gave a shark-like grin. “Plus, it’s more than worth it just to get you riled up.”

“Fine then. You can die, too.” Mitos felt the surge of energy coming from the orb again. He clenched his teeth and focused his will toward controlling the shadow-witch. “I’ve got your first job for you.”

The woman nodded and took a step toward the intruders.

“Kajeel, don’t listen to him,” said Garyl. “You have the power to fight back.”

“I’m not Kajeel,” said the woman. She held out her hands, and the sound of thunder filled the world.

Next Chapter

Captain America is the current site champion, standing for truth, justice, and the American ideal. Indiana Jones has a mixed record of success here, but is becoming one of the most frequent contenders in the Contest of Champions. He stands for bull whips, unprotected sex, and terrible archaeology. But they both fought lots of Nazis, which makes this a worthwhile matchup in my book.

Round One:
As several of my friends have reminded me on numerous occasions, Indiana Jones is a terrible archaeologist. He and his university assume that archaeology equates with treasure hunting, where stealing an idol out of some Egyptian tomb is more valuable to the study of history than keeping it where it is and studying the context around it. However, Dr. Jones has tenure, so nobody can stop him. Nobody but…Captain America.

Captain America shows up to teach Indiana Jones a thing or two about archaeology. But, upon seeing Cap, Indy realizes that he is looking at a living relic. So while Cap is giving him a stern talking to, Indy clocks him over the head with a sock full of nickels, throws him into a trunk, and delivers him to the Dean’s office, where he is hailed once again as a terrific archaeologist. Round One goes to Indiana Jones.

Round Two:
Captain America wakes up, wipes the blood out of his ears, and returns to confront Indiana Jones again. He blocks Indy’s sock of nickels with his shield, then shoves the good doctor into a sitting position at his desk. He then goes on a long lecture about the importance of archaeology, about how it teaches humanity their place in history and gives us as Americans a greater appreciation for what came before. He explains that archaeology is not the equivalent of grave-robbing, and that only through long hours of meticulous study can one truly learn about the people of the ancient past. Doing so increases the strength of an American education, which makes the country safer from the threats of the ignorant.

“I think I see what you’re saying,” says Indy. In actuality, he takes the time to reach for his bull whip, then lashes out, entangling Cap’s shield arm. Then he lunges forward, decking Captain America in the face. He steals Cap’s shield and delivers it to the Dean’s Office, who thought they already had this particular relic but decide to give Dr. Jones the benefit of the doubt because he is just so damned good at what he does. Round Two goes to Indiana Jones.

Round Three:
Cap comes to again, more pissed off than ever. He needs to do something about Indiana Jones, and long-winded speeches don’t seem to be working. Unfortunately, he can’t actually deliver a physical beating, due to the fact that Indy has tenure.

Or can he?

Cap goes to the University President and, after hours of negotiating, is given the title of Professor and is granted tenure. That is quite unusual, but this university labors under the delusion that Indiana Jones knows what he’s doing, so they’re obviously screwed up enough to grant what normally takes somebody years to accomplish after mere hours of negotiation. Besides, who is going to deny tenure to Captain America?

Cap then breaks into the Dean’s Office, takes back his shield, and proceeds to beat the tar out of Indiana Jones. Sure, Indy is a decent fighter and lands a shot or two, but Captain America happens to be a living weapon. Beating up Indiana Jones doesn’t make him a good archaeologist, but it does make Cap feel better. And the university can’t do anything about it because Cap has tenure. Round Three and the fight go to Captain America.

There are a lot of crossovers to World War Hulk. This time around, my reviews cover the space between World War Hulk #2 and World War Hulk #3. For an event that unfolds over the course of roughly 48 hours, it’s pretty remarkable that so very much happened between the pages.

World War Hulk: Front Line #2

Avengers: The Initiative #4 (Green Zone)

Ghost Rider #13 (Apocalypse Soon, part two)

Iron Man #20 (In Absentia)

Heroes for Hire #12 (Subjugation)

Also, the Giants won the Super Bowl! (Just had to slip that in there.)

The wound stung, but Garyl knew without even looking that it was only skin deep. The bounty hunter’s blade had cut just enough to draw blood, but no more.

“You’re sloppier than I thought,” he said, shifting in the snow to focus on the bounty hunter. “You could have severed my spine and killed me before I even knew you were there. Now you’ve lost the element of surprise.”

Samuel smirked and drew his second sword. “Do I look like a thief or a coward to you? I don’t steal from beggars, and I don’t kill helpless men. That cut was just my way of giving you a chance of drawing your weapon and dying like a man…even if you are a monster.”

Garyl tightened his muscles, but swallowed his pain long enough to give his foe a meek smile. “I don’t have a weapon,” he said, holding out his palms in a gesture of mock surrender.

“Don’t insult my intelligence.” Samuel tightened his grip on the blades. “I remember your little magic trick from the last time we fought. You might seem unarmed, but you’ve got a sword tucked away at your belt that only you can see. Now draw it, or you’ll die even quicker.”

Garyl narrowed his eyes at the bounty hunter. With a flick of his arm, his sword became visible, appearing in his hand. As the winter winds swirled snow around them, the two combatants took combat stances.

“You’re a pretty brave man when you’re fighting a battle you know you can win,” said Garyl. “I wonder how brave you’d be if you faced off against Kajeel again.”

“The girl’s got a few tricks up her sleeves, just like you. The problem with people who rely on magic is that they don’t know what to do against someone who’s seen their tricks before.”

Garyl grinned. “What makes you think you saw all my tricks the first time?”

The warrior didn’t respond. He began walking a circle around Garyl, packing down the snow under the tread of his boots and forming a makeshift dueling ring. The tips of his blades hovered near the point of the mage’s sword like a pair of small cobras watching their prey.

Then he struck. Samuel leaped forward, almost impaling himself on the tip of the mage’s blade. But he ducked at the last moment, rolling on the ground and striking at Garyl’s feet. Garyl jumped back, but his leap carried him beyond the boundaries of the packed circle, and he stumbled into a snow bank. He tripped, and his arm sunk elbow deep into the snow in order to keep him standing. Samuel lunged at the opening, and Garyl made a split-second decision to go on the offensive. He took a stab to the shoulder, but ignored the pain and struck toward Samuel’s stomach. At the last possible second, the bounty hunter’s other blade turned what would have been a decisive blow aside. The longer sword sliced through Samuel’s coat and cut a small gash in his side, but the injury was nothing compared to the deeper wound in Garyl’s shoulder. Regardless, Garyl grinned weakly, even as he hunched, favoring his injured shoulder.

“You’re not invulnerable,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the small cut on Samuel’s side.

Samuel didn’t offer a response right away. Instead, he slammed the butt of his blade against Garyl’s bleeding shoulder, bringing a shout from the nightfolk and driving him down onto one knee.

“Neither are you.” Samuel shook the snow out of his beard and raised his weapons to strike again.

Garyl sprang up, meeting the swords in the air with Thiavain. Samuel’s weapons seemed to have minds of their own; they moved independently of one another, weaving a tapestry of destruction that followed the nightfolk wherever he went. They moved with no discernible pattern. Sometimes one would strike out while the other served to parry, and sometimes both of them sought flesh, tearing toward their prey from opposite sides. Garyl quickly found himself on the defensive, frantically whirling his heavier weapon in defense and unable to find an opening to strike back. As Samuel proved a second later, the swords weren’t the warrior’s only weapon.

Samuel seemed to overextend his reach at one point, and Garyl knocked the bounty hunter’s sword out of his hands. The small victory was actually a momentary distraction, and one that Samuel used to perfection. He didn’t pull his empty hand away, but instead struck upwards, catching Garyl in the jaw with the back of his knuckles. The blow lacked force, and only made Garyl flinch. But it served to keep the demon off guard as Samuel kicked out and caught him in the back of the knee. One leg buckled, and the bounty hunter pushed his free hand against Garyl’s chest, sending the nightfolk falling backwards into a snow drift. When the burst of powdery flakes cleared up, Garyl found Samuel’s sword point touching his throat.

Samuel wasn’t about to deliver the killing blow yet. Instead, he struck lower, sinking the tip of his sword into Garyl’s good shoulder. He was rewarded with another shout from his prey.

“It’s not easy being in my place, you know.” He slammed the hilt of his sword against the nightfolk’s knee, and was rewarded with a pop and a shout. “I make my reputation based on the fact that I’m the greatest fighter in the world. When someone like you comes along and gives me trouble, it’s not enough to make sure they pay.” He grabbed Garyl’s wrist and gave it a twist. Then he stuck the tip of his sword into the nightfolk’s side, right where he himself had been injured. “They have to suffer a bit before they die.”

“You’re a liar.” Garyl’s breath became labored as pain surged in from every part of his body. The snow underneath him became a dark red slush as his blood melted it away. “I didn’t even give you a challenge last time. It was Kajeel who took you down. Since you know you can’t take her on without losing again, you’re going after me. You call yourself a bounty hunter, but you’re just a glorified bully.”

“Maybe you’re right. But, seeing as the bounty for the girl is off, I guess I’ll just have to satisfy myself with taking your head.”

In a movement that took only a fraction of a second, Samuel raised his blades for a fatal strike. Garyl rolled along the ground, scrambling to safety despite his pain. In another instant, he was on his feet with his sword at the ready. The bounty hunter’s blades crashed against the strong weapon, sending a small shower of sparks into the nightfolk’s face.

“Since when is the bounty on Kajeel canceled?” Garyl fought to gain some leverage with his blade, but the warrior overpowered him. “Did Mitos decide you weren’t good enough to get the job done?”

“Not at all. But he’s got some other plans for the girl, and the witch too. He’s not too happy with you, though, which means you’re fair game.” Samuel kicked at Garyl’s ankle, but the nightfolk hopped backwards, dodging out of harm’s way.

Garyl winced as he landed on his injured knee, but managed to stay standing despite the agony. Then he set himself for a charge, and his expression grew grim. “You’d be smart to let this one slide, too. If you walk away now, I’ll let you go without any more trouble.”

Samuel’s arrogant grin grew wider. “Do you think I’m some stupid peasant afraid of a skinny mage with black skin? For all the talk you’ve generated around these parts as the big, bad demon, you’ve only been able to give me a tiny scratch. I’m not superstitious, and I’m not stupid.” The bounty hunter planted his feet, preparing for a charge of his own. “You’re out of tricks, and you’re out of time. This fight is about to be over.”

“If you insist.”

The two swordsmen charged one another, slowed only a little by the packed snow of their battlefield. Garyl had the advantage of reach with his weapon, but either one of Samuel’s swords could parry while the other one struck. Fortunately, the nightfolk didn’t plan to meet the warrior head on.

At the last possible second before the two met in their charges, Garyl twisted his body to the side and threw himself off the path. He tilted his blade as it rang against the warrior’s parrying sword and dragged it along with him. The two weapons screeched as metal met metal, and a small shower of sparks leapt into the air. Most of those sparks died as soon as they touched the cold winter wind, but Garyl managed to catch one with his words. He whispered to the tiny fire, coaxing it back to life from the brink of death, and then made it grow. The spark grew into a flame, and the flame grew into an explosion. Samuel’s eyes went wide as the sudden blast erupted right in his face. Garyl dropped his sword and went into a roll, letting the cool, soft snow bank cushion and protect him. Samuel wasn’t so lucky; he had focused so much on the fight that he had forgotten what he was facing. The burst of fire lasted for only a second, but it was enough to catch him completely off guard. He dropped both of his weapons as the force of the fireball threw him ten feet backwards. When he landed, he didn’t get up.

Garyl picked himself up and spat out a mouthful of snow. He grabbed his sword and stalked carefully toward the bounty hunter’s motionless form. Samuel was still breathing, but the surprise and force of the magical blast had knocked him unconscious.

“I told you to walk away,” muttered Garyl. Then he sheathed his sword and got to work.

***

The snow had stopped when Samuel came to, but the cold wind kept blowing. The air was actually refreshing to the dazed bounty hunter, and it soothed his blistered face. He spent a moment enjoying the cold comfort, and it took him some time to regain his senses and notice that he was tied up and prone.

The gurgling noise of a half-frozen river met his ears next. Straining his neck to look around, he saw cold black water flowing less than a foot away from his head. Next to the riverbank stood Garyl, casually flipping through a leather-bound book. At the nightfolk’s feet lay Samuel’s two swords and his longcoat.

“Good,” said Garyl when he noticed Samuel beginning to stir. “You’re up. I was afraid you were going to be out all day. It was nice of you to give me some time to tie you up, though.”

Samuel wriggled in the ropes. He was bound well, and the fine rope cut into his skin sharply. Normally, he might be able to work his way out of his bonds. The cold winter air, though, had left his fingers numb and barely able to work at all.

“Books are wonderful things, aren’t they?” Garyl slammed the cover shut for emphasis. “There’s something written on just about every subject imaginable. Back at the monastery, I was looking through books about magic and mythology. Some books, though, have more meat to them than fairy tales. Some of them just tell you how to tie a really good knot.” Garyl grabbed Samuel from behind and hefted him onto his feet. With surprising strength for one so slender, he shoved Samuel toward the riverbank, dangling him over the freezing water. “Now, I guess we’d better get started.”

Samuel squinted down toward the water, and then looked into the gray sky. The clouds were going dark, and twilight would set in soon. “Go ahead and talk,” he said, twisting his head to look at Garyl again. “But just keep in mind that while you’re talking, I’m coming up with a plan to get loose and kill you.”

“I’m just trying to place you is all, Samuel. I know from dealing with you before that you’re an arrogant ass. But you’re also a very good fighter. You’re not one of the dime a dozen thugs Mitos usually employs; you’ve got training and finesse that I haven’t seen in decades. Someone like you could be considered one of the greatest heroes in Blackwood if you joined up with the army or offered your blade to the service of a noble. Why are you wasting your time with a criminal like Mitos?”

“When it comes to swordplay, I’m the best there is. No one has ever beaten me, except for when they use trickery like you did. I don’t have any interest in serving a noble, and I don’t plan on grinning like an idiot while some general barks his orders in my face. In my world, I choose the jobs. Usually, I go where the money is. It just so happens that Mitos had some good coin on him.”

Garyl pushed forward, and Samuel dropped toward the river. He held his breath and got ready for the freezing water to hit his face. But Garyl grabbed the bounty hunter by his bound wrists, stopping the fall just before Samuel hit the water. Even then, the proximity to the freezing cold made his eyes water.

“I don’t have a lot of patience these days. You’d best tell me the whole truth or I might not stop next time.” He pulled back, lifting Samuel back to safety.

“I don’t have any reason to lie to you, monster.”

“You don’t, but you still are lying. Mitos might have paid you for the first job, but that’s all. He’s a manipulator; once he’s got his claws into you, he’ll find ways to make you do what he wants. He doesn’t pay people when he can get their services for free. So how did he rope you in?”

Samuel gritted his teeth. His mind drifted toward the farmhouse, where Celia and Cera would only now be recovering from the effects of Mitos poisoning their water. “He blackmailed me into going after the girl. But that’s all resolved now. You’re just a regular old bounty – one I plan on cashing in once I get loose from here.”

“What about Kajeel? Who does he have after her now?”

“That’s all I’m saying.”

“Pity.” Garyl pushed again. The wind whistled in Samuel’s ears as he dropped toward the river. This time, the nightfolk didn’t stop the fall. Samuel’s eyes opened and he gave a startled shout as he felt the icy water stinging his body. He kicked out with his legs, trying fight his way to the surface, but his hands and feet were still bound and useless. Even if he could get free and swim, his numb limbs wouldn’t likely work well enough to pull him to the surface before he drowned.

Just as the last gasp of air was about to escape his lungs, Samuel felt himself rising again. Garyl grabbed the bounty hunter by the belt and pulled up, dragging him back to the surface and onto the river bank. Samuel couldn’t stop his teeth from chattering as the wind ran through his sopping wet clothes.

“I can keep this up all day,” you know. Garyl’s voice remained even and businesslike. “I won’t even break a sweat. Of course, I might slip and let the river carry you away. Then all your skill with the sword won’t do you any good. You’ll just be another frozen corpse that someone finds on the banks some day when things finally start to thaw.”

Samuel opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t get a coherent sentence out. Instead he shouted curses at his nightfolk captor, only stopping when his throat grew hoarse.

“Keep yelling,” replied Garyl in his nonchalant manner. “In this weather, nobody’s going to be outside to hear you. Now I know a place where we can get you a nice set of dry clothes and a warm fire. If you’ve got some answers, maybe we can do some business of our own.”

“I swear to the goddess, I’m going to be the one to kill you.”

“You’ll have to get loose first, and your freezing fingers will fall off from frostbite before you undo my knots. The only way out is to answer my questions.”

For a brief moment, Samuel considered risking pneumonia and frostbite in order to satiate his pride. It didn’t take him long to realize he had lost this battle, though. “Fine. He called the bounty on Kajeel off. He’s got some special plan for her.”

Garyl muttered something to himself, and then raised his voice for Samuel to hear. “What kind of plan?”

“He didn’t say. He just wants her alive. If he’s the kind of person you say he is, I imagine he’s figured out a way to control her like he did you.”

“Why Kajeel though? Isn’t he interested in Shade anymore?”

“He didn’t mention her.”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Garyl in a lower tone. “One is just as good as the other at this point.” Raising his voice again, he continued. “Then I guess he sees me as disposable.”

“Of course he does. Why else would he hire me to deal with you?”

“Good point.” Garyl pulled back and dropped Samuel in the snow next to the river – the closest thing they had to dry ground. “I’m going to let you go now.”

“You’re that eager to die?”

“If you really want to go into a fight to the death when you’re too cold to even grip your swords, I’d be more than willing to face you. But I’ve got a business proposal of my own, and I need to make it to your face.” Samuel saw a dull white glow as Garyl drew his sword. For a second, Samuel thought the nightfolk was lying, and was going to finish him off. But the blade didn’t so much as touch the bounty hunter’s skin. Instead, it brushed between his wrists and ankles, cutting the cords that had kept Samuel helpless. Samuel immediately darted toward his gear, even making the tactical mistake of turning his back on his foe. Then he grabbed one of his swords and raised it menacingly toward Garyl, despite the fact that he was shivering too hard to even keep it straight.

Garyl moved faster than Samuel’s numbed reflexes could counter. With one deft stroke, he slammed the butt of his blade against the bounty hunter’s wrist. Samuel didn’t even feel the blow, and didn’t realize that he had dropped his sword until he heard it land in the snow.

“A-All r-r-r-right,” said Samuel, hoping his chattering teeth and blue lips didn’t make him look to unimpressive. “I’ll hear you out.”

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Days after his encounter with the witch, Samuel’s body still ached all over. That pain didn’t compare to the bruises on his pride. He felt his blood boil as he return to the newly relocated bandit camp. Every lowlife who looked at him seemed to have a mocking grin on his face.

“You,” he grabbed one man by the front of his tunic, wiping the leering smirk off his face. “Where’s Mitos?”

“Who wants to know?”

“Me…and my two swords.” Samuel gave the man a shake, and then shoved him backwards. The hostility caught a few eyes, and the bounty hunter noted some other brigands advancing toward him, hands on their weapons. Let them come, thought Samuel. If they think I’m an easy mark, I’ll kill them all. But his brain told him not to listen to his ego, and he checked his tone. “I have business with Mitos. Where is he?”

“You’re the bounty hunter, right?” The bandit stood up straight and puffed his chest out, detecting Samuel’s shift to a more careful tone. “He’s expecting you. Of course, he’s also expecting you to have some folks’ heads with you, and it doesn’t look like you’ve had that kind of luck.”

Normally, the suggestion that he had failed would have been enough to irk the proud warrior into rash action. Samuel imagined his fist connecting with the brigand’s forehead, striking just hard enough to crack the thin bone of his temple. With accuracy that could find a flea on a dark beach, Samuel could easily end this man’s life. Instead, he kept his arms at his side and strode past the mongrel outlaw. There was no sense in dirtying his hands.

Mitos was holed up in his lean-to, with a heavy wool blanket hung over the hut’s door for added warmth. Samuel knocked on the thin wooden wall of the shelter and then pushed the blanket aside. The bandit leader sat at his table with his back to the door. Sweat beaded on his brow despite the cold air. He cast a quick look at his visitor, and then abandoned his work, standing up and turning around. Samuel cast a glance toward the table and saw an array of jeweler’s tools strewn haphazardly on the wood. The tools sat around a small black translucent rock that was now almost perfectly round. Seeing the path of Samuel’s gaze, Mitos moved in between the bounty hunter and the table, blocking the view of the small gemstone.

“I assume you’ve got some heads for me?” Mitos arced an eyebrow as he inspected Samuel’s ragged face. “Or maybe you’ve been drinking from the old widow’s well. You look terrible.”

Samuel’s eyes smoldered, but he kept the razor edge off his tongue. “There are a few…complications you didn’t bother telling me about.”

“Complications? What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t mention the girl was a witch.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I told you she had magic. When I mentioned a woman running around the countryside stark naked and fighting with my mage, what did you expect?”

“Not that one. The girl. Kajeel. You never told me she had any sort of power like that.”

“What are you talking about?” Mitos searched through his memories. The girl hadn’t shown anything, even after Garyl had incapacitated her companions. It had always been Shade…

“The girl’s a witch, too. I found that out the hard way.”

“Are you sure it was her?”

“I looked right into her face. She raised a hand and sent me flying backwards like I was a flea. And this shadow-woman you mentioned was nowhere around.”

“When she used her magic against you…what was it like?”

Samuel didn’t need to think on that answer too hard. His chest still hurt from where the force had struck him. “It was like an invisible hammer hitting me head on. I didn’t see anything at all, except for something weird the air in front of me did.”

Mitos’ expression grew more serious. His eyes darted to the orb on the table, and then went back to Samuel. “What did the air do?”

“It sort of rippled, like the reflection of water or steam rising up on a hot day. I didn’t even notice it at first. I thought I imagined it until the force hit me.”

Mitos’ eyes went wide. He muttered something to himself, and searched his memory for the many scraps of lore he had stolen from Garyl’s books. When he paid attention to Samuel again, the expression on his face had become something decidedly foreign.

“The bounty’s off,” he said hastily. Turning around, he rummaged through his footlocker and produced a vial of liquid. He turned around wildly and thrust the flask into a bewildered Samuel’s hands. “Give this to the widow and her daughter. It’s the antidote to the poison I used. You’ve done well; you’ve actually done me more of a service than if you had killed the brat.”

Samuel pocketed the vial immediately, but didn’t leave. “That takes care of one problem. Now I guess we can discuss another job.”

“I thought you didn’t want to work for me?”

“It’s not good for business, but it’s not always wrong to mix business with pleasure. You’ve got the women off the list, but I think you’ve got at least one more bounty for me.”

Mitos took a long look into the bounty hunter’s face and laughed. “You’re pride’s showing, Samuel. You got knocked around by that girl, and now you’re looking to save face. Go away. Nobody likes a bully.”

Samuel’s face flushed slightly, but he didn’t move. “You’re sure you don’t have anything else for me?”

Mitos’ eyes flickered back to the orb. “Positive. Go back to the women on the farm.”

“Fine.” Samuel turned around and stepped through the doorway. He held the blanket up a moment too long, allowing the winter wind to surge through the small hut. “Maybe after my trip back to the farm, I’ll stop off and talk to Garyl.”

“What?”

But Samuel had already left, letting the blanket flap fall back into place. Mitos scrambled through the makeshift portal, and found the bounty hunter waiting for him outside.

“I thought you said you didn’t have anything more for me.” Samuel eyed Mitos like a scavenging bird looking at a fresh corpse.

“What do you know about Garyl?”

“I know he’s traveling with the woman you were after. Based on everything else I know about you, I’d guess you won’t take him abandoning and betraying you very well.”

Mitos frowned and rubbed a hand through his blonde hair. “He’s almost meaningless to me now. I’ve got bigger goals in mind.”

“I’m sure he does, too. He knows all about you and your camp. Most people around here won’t give him the time of day, but if he can make one person listen… Who knows? Maybe even a demon can buy some respect, as long as he has the right kind of currency.”

“I don’t care what you say. Nobody will pay attention to him.”

“Maybe you’re right. Even so, you’re still here, listening to me. You said before that you control power. That’s what you do. But what do you do when you lose that control?”

The image of Garyl walking freely, thumbing his nose at his old master made Mitos clench his fists. After all that time, the nightfolk was the one laughing at him.

Samuel pointed at Mitos clenched fists. “Your pride is showing.”

With effort that could have moved a mountain, Mitos forced himself to relax. “Fine. Let’s talk business.”

***

The sky had grown grayer as the air grew colder, and now it looked like undyed wool. By mid morning, the wind began carrying heavy flakes of snow as it whistled through the Monastery of the Immortals. The breeze died down eventually, but the snow didn’t. By the afternoon, the ground had become painted white by the thick, wet flakes.

With nothing but the cold, unfriendly winter outside, Garyl sheltered himself in the monastery’s library. It didn’t do him much good; the building itself was old and drafty. The old books of lore were too valuable to allow near a fireplace. So the nightfolk sat in a lonely room, bundled up against the weather and surrounded by dusty tomes.

It came to pass that the children of Ameterra, the Lady of Light, sought to usurp her power. Each of the immortals sought the ability to not only rule, but to create – to shape the world in their image. They fought against their parents and battled with each other at the same time. Unwilling to destroy her first creations, Ameterra imprisoned each of her immortal children deep beneath the surface of the world, binding them in an eternal sleep. To ensure that no one would ever be able to take all of her power, the goddess gave some of her divine light to the elders of Capertia. Through the elders, the light grew and diversified. Eventually, fragments of that power came to humans, when that young race fled from the Cursed Lands of the east.

Garyl slammed the tome shut, coughing as its yellowed pages sent a spray of dust into his face. He knew all about the War of the Immortals and about the legends surrounding Ameterra. He didn’t care to read anything more. So he turned to another book, only to find more legends he already knew. Without a purpose to drive his research, he was just reliving the past.

“I expected you to be here, but I hoped you wouldn’t be.” Garyl looked up to the source of the wizened old voice and saw Master Kaoto standing at the other end of the table, his hands folded into the oversized sleeves of his robe.

Garyl closed the cover of his book and rubbed his hands together. “I haven’t changed that much since I’ve been away. Rather than get in the way of your students while they work, I might as well keep myself well-read. I’m older than you, so I figure I should at least try to catch up on your wisdom.”

A fiery light flickered in Kaoto’s eyes. Garyl only saw it for a second, and then convinced himself that there had been nothing there but the placid stare of an old man.

“Reading through those books won’t help you find any wisdom. You’ve got plenty of knowledge already, and you’ve probably read through this entire library over the past few days.”

Garyl shrugged. “There’s not much else for me to do. I don’t feel like traveling in the cold, and I’m no good at meditation.”

“If you’re looking for a way to help Kajeel, you won’t find it in here.”

“I know,” responded the nightfolk bitterly. “And I’m not trying to help her anymore. We’ve parted ways.”

“So I heard. And yet, you are still here.” The master’s eyes grew softer – perhaps in sadness, or perhaps simply from the weariness of what Garyl believed to be old age.

Garyl didn’t answer for a moment. He looked away from Kaoto and to the pile of books stacked high next to his table. “I’m more comfortable with history than women.”

“It’s easy to look into the past, isn’t it?”

Garyl made a disgusted face. “Oh no…here comes a moral.”

Rather than get upset with Garyl’s jab, Kaoto threw back his head and gave a hearty laugh. Garyl looked taken aback by the new sign of life in the old monk.

“I never could teach you a lesson, you know. You always stayed looking through those books, learning about the secrets of magic and looking to the past for everything. And no matter how hard I’ve tried, I never got you to look at the present. You live with the sins you committed decades ago. You’ve spent your entire life looking back, always looking back and regretting the things you can’t fix. When are you going to look at the here and now, and work on the things you can fix?”

Garyl looked out the library’s window at the falling snow outside. Kajeel was probably miles away by now.

“Once the snow stops, maybe I’ll step out of the library and sit through one of your lectures. Right now, though, I need some peace and quiet.”

Whatever cheer had made its way onto Kaoto’s face disappeared. His eyes grew dull again, and he seemed like the tired old man Garyl always knew. “Very well, then. I can’t make you listen.” He turned and began walking away. Before he left the chambers, though, he stopped to say one more thing. “I hope you don’t choose to live in darkness for too much longer. Eventually, even when you finally look into the light, darkness is all you’ll see.”

Garyl’s head rose so quickly that his neck gave a small crack when he looked from his books back to Kaoto. Something lit up in his brain, and then spread through the rest of him. His entire body felt the jolt of an epiphany.

“What did you say?”

Even as he tried to appear old and wise, Kaoto allowed himself a moment of confusion. He furrowed his brow questioningly. The nightfolk dashed across the table and clapped his hands on the startled master’s shoulders.

“Do you realize what you just said?”

“What are you talking about?” Kaoto tried squirming away from Garyl’s grip, but the nightfolk was still young and strong, even after all these years.

A smile – a genuine smile, unmarred by sarcasm or sadness – spread across Garyl’s face. “I know the answer now. I knew it all along. I just didn’t realize it.”

Without waiting another moment, Garyl dashed out of the library, leaving a very confused Kaoto in his wake.

“I need to leave for now,” he shouted behind him. “But I’ll be back. And I’ll bring Kajeel with me, assuming I ever find her.”

He stopped at his room only to get the barest of essential supplies before striking out through the rapidly growing blizzard. He had to make up for lost time. Pulling his cloak tightly around him, he dashed out of the monastery and down the road. He had no idea of how he would find Kajeel – the woman was adept at hiding, as she had practiced that art for most of her life. But he marched onward anyway, trusting to luck and intuition. If he could catch up to her, he could finally explain everything.

The traveling wasn’t easy, as the wind blew snow across the road in deep drifts. But Garyl pressed on, pushing his way onward until his muscles burned in exhaustion. Clenching his teeth, he endured the aches in his body and the discomfort of melting snow in his boots. He had a goal now.

He marched on that way for over an hour, pressing forward and calling to Kajeel with his mind, hoping she could hear him wherever she had traveled and praying that she wouldn’t block him out entirely. He was so absorbed in his journey that he paid almost no attention to the world around him – and soon paid for that mistake.

Long into the first day of his travels, something struck Garyl’s back, sending a biting pain through his muscles. He fell face-first into the snow, stunned by the sudden blow. Pulling himself out of the drift and turning around, he saw the white ground behind him stained with red blood. Not far away stood a familiar bearded man. The bounty hunter wore a long coat and held a single naked blade in his gloved hand. The tip of the steel was coated with newly spilled blood – Garyl’s blood.

“Bad news, demon,” said Samuel. “The rules have changed. You’re the target now.”

Next Chapter

Even if you haven’t read or seen a version of Gaston Leroux’s classic novel, you probably know the general story because it has seeped into popular culture: a young singer named Christine attracts the attention of a deranged man who lives within the Paris Opera House, and horror ensues. The familiar trappings from the novel and the silent film are still there: there’s a falling chandelier scene (albeit moved to the movie’s climax), there’s a would-be lover to Christine named Raoul, and there’s a final unmasking of the Phantom. However, this film also takes some liberties with the original work, adding in a number of unique aspects. The Phantom, here known as Erique Claudin, has a drastically changed backstory. Instead of being disfigured from birth, he was once a violin player who became badly scarred when acid is thrown into his face. Erique doesn’t show a desire to marry Christine, but rather cares for her in a more fatherly light. Finally, and much to my delight, there is an additional romantic rival thrown into the mix: a singer named Anatole who, like Raoul, seeks Christine’s hand in marriage.

I don’t think that any of these items ruin the adaptation. Quite to the contrary, they help the movie stand very well on its own, separate from the 1925 piece. (Though it is worth noting that the set from the silent film is reused in this movie, so that classic film has not been entirely forgotten here.) The problem I have with the 1943 Phantom is that the changes introduced here became pervasive enough to become a part of the public perception of what The Phantom of the Opera is. After this film, the public generally saw the Phantom as a charismatic man whose scars had driven him to madness, rather than as a man who happened to be born as a monster. The film also cemented the idea of the Phantom as a true madman rather than a potentially good person who society had turned into a monster through their prejudices.

Why did this version of the story become so pervasive? You probably could point to film’s growing influence on society. By the 40s, films had color and sound, and the Hollywood studio system was well on its way to becoming the juggernaut that it is today. What people saw in movies replaced what they had seen in books. Oh, you could say that film had become such an influence on our society, but I prefer to sum up the reason that the 1943 film forever altered the perception of Gaston Leroux’s story in four simple words: Stupid sexy Claude Rains.

Claude Rains is one of the greatest actors of his generation. From the smarmy French cop in Casablanca to the dangerously insane Invisible Man, the guy just oozed charisma. That is a good thing – you want to make the Phantom a likeable character despite his major flaws. But in addition to his natural charisma, he was a pretty damned sexy man as well. Admittedly, he didn’t have the youthful allure of someone like Gerard Butler in 1943, but he was distinguished as he aged and, if he put his mind to it, could still make the ladies swoon.

Erique without his mask. Or, as I like to call him, Two-Face.

Why does my homoerotic attraction to Claude Rains hurt this movie? Because, as I have said before, I don’t think that The Phantom of the Opera works as well as a story if the titular Phantom is attractive underneath his mask. The 1925 adaptation got it right in this regard – the Phantom is a monstrous-looking creature. He should frighten viewers, not turn them on. The sexier the Phantom gets, the less horrifying he becomes, and the less the audience sympathizes with Christine. We as audience members should understand why Christine is so frightened and repulsed, rather than admonishing her for turning down a man who is obviously very attractive despite his scars. The crux of the story is Christine’s ability to see the poor, pitiful man underneath the monstrous visage. In the original story and, to an extent, the 1925 silent film, the audience makes that journey with Christine, seeing the Phantom first as a ghost, then as an insane monster, and finally as a man who is desperate to be loved.

In the 1943 version, not only is the Phantom less grotesque (although the scars caused by acid tossed in his face are still better than the mild sunburn that Gerard Butler’s Phantom has), but we see him as a normal, unscarred man at first. In this version, he wasn’t born a monster, but rather was a successful musician. This tale is less about a man who has never known love and more about a genius’ fall from grace. That works fine for the movie as a singular entity. As an adaptation of Gaston Leroux’s original masterpiece, it hurts it a little.

Despite my objections to Claude Rains’ animal magnetism, this 1943 version does have a lot going for it. Rains is brilliant in his role as the Phantom, presenting a man who is both charming and utterly insane. By the end, when he really starts to rave, he raves, and his acting almost makes up for the relative lack of disfigurement when his mask gets pulled off. The film also has a terrific twist at the end where it turns out that the Phantom does beat Raoul and Anatole in a way: rather than marry one of them, Christine remains single and chooses to continue her career as a singer, essentially picking the Phantom over the two of them even though Erique is now dead. Remember that this is 1943 – the idea of a woman pursuing a professional career instead of settling down and getting married is earth-shakingly progressive for the era.

As good as the 1943 film is, it could have been even better had a couple of things gone differently. First, rather than pursue Christine out of romantic desire, Erique was originally intended to be her father. The studio ultimately nixed this twist due to fears of incestuous overtones from those who knew the Phantom as a tragic lover rather than a dutiful but dangerous father. Even with the details erased, though, this bit is still very clearly part of the story. Erique spends his entire fortune paying for Christine’s music lessons, even though they have never personally met. Later on, he does act in a more fatherly manner toward her instead of seeking her out as a bride.

Secondly, this movie was successful enough to warrant a sequel, which would have been a major departure from Leroux’s work and established The Phantom of the Opera not just as a single story but as something with franchise potential. Sadly, conflicts with Rains’ schedule made the sequel an impossibility, although the material did get recycled to some degree in the 1944 film The Climax, which won an Academy Award for its art direction. Instead of seeing Rains reprise his role and return to terrify Christine anew, we didn’t get a sequel to any of the Phantom adaptations until 1999, when we got The Phantom of Manhattan. I don’t want to spoil that for anybody, but let’s just say that I’ll go into the reasons why that novel makes my stomach turn in a future rant.

So that’s the 1943 version of The Phantom of the Opera. I really need to stress that it is a good movie, and in many ways is better than the 1925 silent film. Unfortunately, it leaves a slightly bitter taste in my mouth due to the fact that certain elements of the film, namely an artificially disfigured Phantom and a sexy lead actor under the mask, seeped into later adaptations, few of which matched this one in terms of quality. Stupid sexy Claude Rains.

Previous Chapter

By the standards of the monastery, the room was a luxurious one. While most quarters had little more than some tapestries, a few carved runes in the walls, and some soft mats to serve as a bed, Kajeel’s room had actual furniture – two well-made beds, which either implied a certain degree of trust or an equal degree of naiveté on the part of Kaoto. Most importantly, the monk had given them a room with a private bath – a luxury likely afforded only to important guests of the monastery.

Kajeel sank deep into steaming hot water, breathing out any tension left in her body. She drew the curtains about herself for privacy, although she hardly worried about that. Garyl was still in the library, and, considering the way he read, probably wouldn’t be back until the sun went down. Even if Garyl did make it back early, Kajeel didn’t feel that she had to worry about modesty anymore. It would be fun to see Garyl’s face flush when she raised her naked body out of the bath.

The one thing the light curtains did well was to capture the steam of the hot water. The vapors pushed their way to the side of her iron tub, and got caught immediately by the white drapes that hung in a circle around her. The only escape for the haze of humidity was to go upwards, where Kajeel breathed it in and felt the warmth open up her body.

“Garyl can have his musty old library,” she murmured. “I’ll take this tub any day.”

She sank deeper into the water, letting the warmth of the bath lick at her cheeks and run past her chin. Then she took a deep breath and plugged her nose, plunging herself under the surface. She watched the world around her from underneath the water. Then she closed her eyes, listening only to the muted rumble of her movements in the tub. She came up with a smile and a gasp. The air outside seemed colder already.

“That’s okay,” she said to herself. “I’ll just stay here until the water cools or Garyl comes back, whichever comes first.”

The floor creaked, catching her attention. Then it creaked again, and she was certain she knew the sound. Someone else was in the room, walking across the floor.

“Garyl? Is that you?”

She got no answer. A devilish smile formed on her lips.

“Surprise!” Jumping up from the tub, she threw open the curtains, exposing her naked skin to her visitor. She wondered if Garyl’s hundred-year old heart would stop out of shock.

She never found out for sure, though. Nobody was there.

“Well…that was foolish.” She climbed out of the tub, letting herself drip dry as she gathered up her clothes. “It’s a good thing nobody was actually here. The last thing I’d want to do is expose myself to some wandering monk. Kaoto would probably toss me right out of here…unless he happened to be the one who saw me.”

Still wondering where the noise had come from, she climbed out of the tub. She put on her clothes, giving one last longing look at the steaming bath. She could get back to that later, she decided, after her curiosity had been satisfied.

Again, she heard the creaking of the floor, as though someone was walking toward her. But the door was locked, and there was nobody else in the room.

Or was there? Something moved out of the corner of Kajeel’s eye. Her head jerked in that direction, but she saw nothing but shadows.

Unfortunately, it was the shadows she was afraid of.

“Oh no…” She felt the blood draining out of her face. Even her lips went white. The shadows took form, and a previously invisible woman stepped out of the corner.

“Kajeel…you’ve been hiding from me for too long.” The woman was, naturally, Shade, as beautiful and terrible as ever.

“Leave me alone.” Kajeel stood tall, trying to summon up enough of her will to fight once again.

Shade sensed the tensing in Kajeel’s body, and guessed what she was trying to do immediately. “Do you really want to battle me again, my darling girl? Do you really want to see blood on your hands? Because if that’s what you’re looking for, all you need to do is let yourself go. Strike out at me like you always have. It will be just like old times.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Silly girl, you should know. How many people who crossed our paths have died? Every time you fight against me, somebody else suffers. Don’t you realize by now that you’ve been a killer all your life?”

“I’ve never hurt anyone. You’re the killer.”

“Tell that to your father. He’s still convinced that you’re a wicked witch. If you had listened to me from the beginning, if you had accepted me, then no one would have been hurt at all. But you’re a frightened child. You always have been. You can’t stop running away.”

“I’m not running now.” She took a step forward, glaring into Shade’s ebony-colored eyes. “So let’s end this.”

Shade didn’t back up, but she didn’t move forward, either. “Oh, you’re strong and mighty, now that you’ve got another demon on your side. But how long will Garyl still be on your side? How long can you trust him? More importantly, how long can he trust you?”

Kajeel clenched her fists and didn’t respond. Footsteps echoed down the hallway, coming toward the door. Both of the women turned their head toward the entrance as the wooden entrance slid open.

“You certainly won’t be as cocky when you don’t have a wizard to protect you.” Shade’s eyes danced, and she darted toward the door.

The door opened, and Garyl stepped in, shaking his head slightly. Kajeel tensed for a battle, but Garyl slid the door shut and walked right past Shade as if she wasn’t even there.

“Kaoto told me he had set us up with a room with a bath,” he said, gesturing toward the wet footprints leading away from the tub. “I wish I could tell you I’ve been as helpful, but so far the only thing I’ve found in the library is an interesting recipe for broiled eel.”

“Garyl—”

“Don’t say anything about me,” warned Shade. She leveled her dagger-like black nails at Garyl’s throat. The nightfolk didn’t even flinch. “He can’t see or hear me, but I guarantee you he’ll feel this.”

“What is it, Kajeel?” asked Garyl, still oblivious to the danger right next to him.

Kajeel struggled to find words that could serve as a warning for her companion, but anything she could think of would have been too easy for Shade to figure out. “Nothing. I’m glad you’re back, is all.”

“You’re glad he’s back, because now you can tell him to leave.” Shade pressed her claws closer to Garyl’s throat, to the point where it was almost touching his skin. Garyl moved to the bed and pulled his boots off, and the shadow-woman followed him every step of the way.

I won’t do that. Kajeel kept her mouth shut, reaching out to Shade with her thoughts instead.

“You will, or he’ll die. I know what you two are doing. You’re trying to get rid of me. I won’t let that happen. You and I will be together forever, Kajeel, whether you like it or not.”

“Garyl, Shade is—”

“Don’t tell him! If you try to warn him again, those will be the last words he ever hears.”

“Shade is…what?” Garyl stood and took Kajeel’s hands in his. Her palms were sweating, making the grip slippery. “Has she followed you? Is she here in the monastery?”

Can’t you sense her? Can’t you at least feel the claws at your throat? As much as she wanted otherwise, Kajeel kept her thoughts to herself, and didn’t project them into Garyl’s mind. Shade, it seemed, could read her thoughts, and wouldn’t hesitate to kill again. All Kajeel managed was some fidgeting, followed by one word: “No.”

“Get rid of him,” came Shade’s voice. Her face was hidden in the shroud of darkness that surrounded her, but her voice was as clear as day.

“What’s wrong, Kajeel?” Garyl’s eyes seemed softer than they had ever been before as he looked into her face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Kajeel took one more look at Shade, and then made her decision.

“No…it’s not anything like that.” She slipped out of Garyl’s grasp, and then took two steps away from him. “It’s you.”

“What are you talking about?”

A tremble began in Kajeel’s stomach. Gritting her teeth, she hardened her body and her soul, stopping it. “I can’t be with you anymore, Garyl. I don’t want to.”

The words hung in the air, and it took the nightfolk a moment to absorb their meaning. His next words gave her a mix of relief and terror.

“You’re no better a liar than I am,” he said, seeing through her ruse. “What’s wrong? I can help you.”

Kajeel looked pointedly over Garyl’s shoulder. The nightfolk followed her gaze, and looked right into Shade’s face. But then he turned back to Kajeel, seeing nothing but empty air.

“You have to be more drastic,” said Shade. “Make him believe you mean what you say.” Her lips turned into a cruel smile. “Show me how noble you are, little girl. Save your friend’s life.”

“Look at you. You’re a monster!” Kajeel focused her attention on Shade as she spoke, but knew Garyl would think she was talking to him. “Why would I want to stay with someone like you, knowing what you are?”

“You knew what I was from the beginning,” replied Garyl. “It’s not like my curse is easy to miss.”

Taking a deep breath, Kajeel steeled herself for the coming argument. There’s no turning back now, she told herself. “It’s not about your curse, Garyl. I knew you were a demon…I just didn’t know how wicked you really were.”

“You said it yourself – I’m trying to make amends.”

Kajeel twisted her face into a sneer. “You can’t just fix things, you know. You killed your friends, your family. You slaughtered your mother, and you didn’t feel a thing. How could you ever make up for that?”

This time, Garyl remained silent. Kajeel kept going, twisting the verbal knife.

“You mentioned you’ve done worse things than kill. What were those things? Rape? Torture? Did you beat women and slaughter children?” When Garyl didn’t offer an answer, she laughed grimly and shook her head. “You probably did all those things, didn’t you? What have you been thinking of these past few days? You’ve had a glint in your eye when you looked at me. Did you think I’d love you? That I’d make love to you? How could I? You’re filthy. You’re a monster.” Her voice cracked slightly on that last word, but she recovered quickly and kept going. “Every time you touch me, I feel those crimes on you. Every time you look at me, I can’t help but wonder if you’re planning on making me your next victim.”

“I’m not.”

“Says the murderer and the liar.”

Garyl stood stiffly, as though he were made of wood. He’s like a dying tree, thought Kajeel. If I pushed him right now, he’d fall over and never get back up.

When Garyl spoke again, his words seemed dead. “If you really believe all that, why are you still here? I gave you plenty of chances to run away.”

“Unlike you, I’m not what I seem to be. I’m not a frightened girl or an inexperienced young lady. I saw you, and I figured I saw somebody who could protect me. I even thought there was some good in you, once. I thought I would come to respect you – maybe even…” Kajeel took a short breath to bite back a trace of sympathy in her voice. “Maybe even love you. But I’ve learned everything I need to know about you, Garyl Shadowslayer. You’re like a bad apple – rotten right down to the core.”

Come on, Garyl. Get angry! Fight back somehow! If she could push him into an argument, the whole matter could be easier. She knew all the ways to hurt him, but he also knew how to hurt her. If he struck back, the anger would make leaving easier to handle. But while his eyes flashed and his jaw trembled, he didn’t fight back at all. Whether it was love or sympathy or just plain stupidity, Garyl stood his ground and stayed patient, answering with more care in his voice than Kajeel thought she could handle.

“Something’s wrong. Just tell me what it is, Kajeel. I can help you.”

Kajeel shot a look of desperation toward Shade. The witch remained unmoved by her pleading gaze, and the dagger was still leveled at Garyl’s throat.

“Help me?” Kajeel let out a nervous, high-pitched laugh that almost became a sob at the end. “Like you helped your brother?”

Garyl’s eyes lit up, and his face grew taught with anger. She had found the crack in his armor.

“I remember all your stories,” she said, pouring salt in the open wound. “Your brother Vedrin was the only person in the entire world who knew what you were going through. He understood you, because you made him walk the same path you did. You convinced him to join you in your attack against your parents. That means you’re responsible for his curse. But he didn’t hold it against you, not one bit. He still followed you. He looked up to you. You were his older brother; no matter what you did, you were his hero. And how did you repay him, hero?”

“Stop it.” Garyl’s voice was a low rumble – a volcano about to erupt.

“You threw him away as soon as it was convenient to you.” Kajeel made a stabbing motion in the air. “A knife in the back…literally.”

“I said stop it!” Garyl’s temper finally boiled over, and he leapt at Kajeel. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. For a moment, she thought he was going to strike her. But his civilized mind pushed away whatever brutality his body wanted to commit. He pushed her away, nearly knocking her off his feet. Then he turned around, his body still quivering with rage.

Even then, Kajeel didn’t back down. “I was right the first night we met. Any good in you comes from Thiavain. That little voice in the back of your head isn’t a conscience. It’s a sword. Made for destruction and slaughter, but it’s still a better person than you’ll ever be.”

“Get out,” replied Garyl. The anger drained all other emotion out of his voice.

“What if I don’t? What if I decide I want to stay? Will you hit me? Kill me?”

Garyl stayed still, his arms trembling and his fists clenched. His orange eyes seemed to flicked a bright red. “Get out,” he repeated, “and never come back.”

“That would be best for both of us,” mumbled Kajeel. She felt the hot pinpricks of tears form in her eyes. She turned around, and didn’t try to stop them. She left the room, marching purposefully down the hall and ignoring any baffled monks who saw her. Shade finally lowered her claws and followed after her.

“You needed to leave him, you understand.” Shade’s voice, heard only by Kajeel, took on a motherly quality to it. And Kajeel missed her mother, now more than ever. “This is better for both of you.”

Kajeel looked at Shade. Through the blur of tears, the shadow-witch seemed more familiar than she ever had before.

“I’m alone with you,” said the defeated Kajeel, allowing Shade to lead her outside. “And Garyl’s just plain alone. I guess we’re both used to it that way.”

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