top of page

Chapter I

 

Shay noticed a tiny gleam from the black metal buckle near her stirrup and carefully smudged it with a bit of soot, knowing how dangerous even the slightest bit of reflective material could be. Nickering inquiringly, Onyx turned his finely boned head as she fussed over his tack, and absently, she smoothed over his forelock, stroking a line down to his ebony muzzle. Around her, the Rider station was already bustling with the foundlings mucking out the nearby stalls, grooms feeding and watering the horses, and the station master in the office grumbling about the early start to his day.

Beyond the large open door, mist drifted, making the predawn morning seem even darker as the white tinge to the vapor lights seemed to glow with a sharp, sparkly radiance. The warm smell of horses and manure and hay filled her nostrils as she gave a final tug to Onyx’s cinch and slapped him on his neck, running a hand along his dark hide. Shay was about to mount when approaching footsteps and heavy exhalations made her pause and turn.

He was clearly a merchant, bearing several envelopes in his meaty hand. “Rider, I wish a word.”

Frowning, she drew back her hood, letting it fall about her shoulders as she stared sternly at him. He didn’t seem disconcerted by her gaze, as so many were, and she wondered if he dealt with Riders often. With an effort, she forced herself to be polite. “How may I help you, sie?” With no way of knowing if he bore title or not, she could only use the general if rather formal form of address.

He thrust the letters toward her, though she made no move to accept them. “I need these taken to Vokanus immediately.” His voice was harsh, his manner abrupt, disdainful, as if he didn’t really want to deal with her but was doing so only out of necessity.

Fury roiled in the pit of her stomach, but she merely stepped to the side, moving away from Onyx so the royal seal on the black saddlebags was clearly visible. “I’m not riding to Urodela,” she said, trying to make this situation as least awkward as possible. “I ride to Zephyrus.”

After all, the Merchant Cartel held no little power here in Naiad. It wouldn’t do to unduly upset the members. But he didn't cooperate, apparently oblivious to the insignia that indicated she ran messages for the Queen and Council only. She was aghast when he dug out a small bag that clinked as he handled it, indicating it held coins, and thrust it toward her.

"I’m Shop Master Murross, and these contracts are important, girl,” he said, impatiently, apparently misreading her reticence. “There’s sufficient gold in it for you.” As if that were her only motivation in life.

She knew those in Aquas tended to the myopic about those from elsewhere, but this was ridiculous. He was so intent on being superior, he didn’t see what was right in front of him. She straightened, injecting a note of authority into her tone.

“I ride only for the crown,” Shay said, no longer trying to spare his pride or avoid the uncomfortable situation. "I do not carry for a—” she barely avoided injecting the word mere before adding “shopkeeper.”

He stopped and looked at her for undoubtedly the first time, seeing beyond the dark hair, dusky skin, and strange eyes that marked her as from the Shadow Lands, and at the leathers and cloak that bore the badge of royalty. He paled somewhat and lowered his hand.

“My apologies, Rider,” he stammered. “I thought—”

“That I was merely a courier? Even the most inexperienced of us deserve more respect than you have shown, merchant.”

She no longer held rein on her temper. She knew the rest of the world held her people in little regard, even though they birthed the only individuals gifted with the ability to navigate the Shadow Realm. It didn’t seem to matter that without Riders traversing in minutes and hours what would normally take caravans days, weeks, or even months, much of the Five Nations’ economy would be significantly different. She raked him up and down with a furious look, taking in the fine clothes, the fat belly straining his belt, the hearty jowls indicating he ate often and well.

“I must ride,” she said shortly, instead of releasing the flood of invective that filled her throat. Turning her back, she gathered the reins and mounted Onyx in one, sinuous motion. As she touched his sides lightly with her heels, he sprang forward in an immediate gallop, leaving the merchant behind in a rain of dust, straw, and a strategically placed clot of manure that just happened to be by Onyx’s near hind hoof.

She slowed Onyx to a steady trot when they reached Naiad’s main thoroughfare, falling in with the early morning traffic as the vast capital began its day. As she rode, her temper cooled, and she regretted that she had allowed it to get away from her in the first place, hoping there would be no lasting repercussions. It would be too bad if that merchant turned out to be as important as he thought he was. The wealthy had influence even over the court. She tried to focus on her mission as, around her, people bustled about their business on the sidewalks, and carts, carriages, and wagons filled the streets, along with individual mounts winding their way while the early rays of the sun broke through the mist.

Up on the cliff overlooking the harbor, the white marble walls of the palace and the nearby step-pyramid of the Academy gleamed brightly, both powerful symbols of the city’s importance. Not just Aquas’s crown city, Naiad was capital to the entirety of the Five Nations, its wealth and power understood by all. Down by the water, the sounds and smells of the docks filled Shay’s senses, making her itch to be free of all these people. Ignoring the shouts of shopkeepers hawking their wares and workers unloading goods from the high-masted ships snugged up against the wharves, she touched Onyx with her knee, guiding him up one of the side avenues leading to the city’s main entrance.

Once she was free of the gate bureaucracy and riding along the dirt road winding west through the surrounding farmland, the tension in her shoulders began to ease. By the time she reached the towering obelisk that marked the beginning of the Path linking Naiad and Zephyrus, she felt like herself. The sky was cloudless, providing a sharp contrast between the thin shadow cast by the stone spire and the sunlight blanketing the verdant meadow, providing her the easiest of access. With a minor exertion of thought and energy, she rode Onyx into the shade at the base of the obelisk, and suddenly, she was in the Shadow Realm.

It was the place between places, where time and distance didn't quite exist, where stepping into a specific spot in one part of the world could take a Rider to another spot hundreds, even thousands of leagues away, bypassing jungles, crossing water, and traversing through mountains with ease. Many Paths ran between the various major towns and cities in the Five Nations, connecting them financially and politically, but only the Shadow Riders could follow them, carrying time-sensitive communications and precious goods. Shay had proved herself reliable and honest over the years, rising through the courier ranks until she’d finally been assigned elite status, riding for the crown itself.

The darkness surrounding her was impenetrable to non-Riders, but she possessed the unique ability to see through the greenish murk, though there was little to see beyond jagged, rocky, crystalline outcrops and the occasional spindly growths that weren’t plants. The air was so arid and bitter that it was uncomfortable to breathe, and she pulled her scarf up over her mouth so that the moisture leaving with her exhalations was trapped and remained with her. Onyx, trained for these unnatural surroundings, responded obediently to the touch of her knees and heels as she guided him along the path that lay marked before her. Sound was muted, with the creak of saddle leather and even the thud of Onyx’s hooves on the ground barely audible. Beyond that, the Shadows was oppressively still, though in that unknown expanse, things roamed freely. She didn’t want to say lived, because she wasn’t sure the entities that inhabited this place were alive. Despite that qualm, despite the constant sense of otherness, she didn’t urge Onyx to move faster. She enjoyed the ride more than she perhaps should.

Barely minutes into her journey, the faintest trace of foreign sound brushed her ears. Shocked, she drew Onyx to a halt, her head swiveling as she sought to pinpoint the noise. As she listened, it grew more defined, finally becoming recognizable as the sound of battle. At first, she wasn’t sure what to do, knowing full well the dangers of leaving the Path, of becoming hopelessly lost and never finding a safe exit from the Shadows. But she was also keenly aware that, as a Rider, she was duty-bound to aid anyone who might be in trouble, especially if it was a guide with a civilian. Sailing or traveling by caravan might take longer, but it was infinitely safer and far less unpleasant than to travel the Paths. Only civilians with the most urgent need ever made the attempt, so whoever it was could be rather important. Not that she valued them over a fellow clansman.

Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders whilst ignoring the uncomfortable sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, she nudged Onyx off the Path and into the darkness, straining her eyes to pierce the murk. She rode carefully over the uneven terrain, guided by the grunts and clashes of metal on metal. When she was finally able to detect motion ahead, she swiftly reined in Onyx and jumped from her saddle, landing lightly on the ground as she drew both daggers from her belt. With a touch, she bade Onyx to remain where he was, knowing that he would obey, and cautiously approached until she was near enough to see what was going on.

Her heart sank as she saw the darting shadows. Wraiths. Formless creatures with red eyes that glowed as they attacked and razor-sharp claws that formed out of nothingness. One on its own was dangerous, but beatable. Two or three working together could take down a Rider and her mount within seconds. Except they didn’t usually work together, nor were they found so close to civilization. Certainly not so close to a warded Path.

Yet, Shay could see five of them, collectively fighting a woman who was not wearing the garb of a Shadow Rider. In fact, she didn’t look like a Rider at all.

Solidly built, yet incredibly graceful, she was armed with a sword and shield that gleamed in the dimness, much to Shay’s dismay. Any hint of light was lethal in the Shadow Realm. It attracted...well, it attracted wraiths at the least and, at worst, much larger and deadlier things. Even the woman’s armor was reflective, shimmering in the dark, a silvery mail tunic over a black shirt with insignia that Shay belatedly realized was part of a uniform.

The woman was a marshal, a keeper of the law.

But it was more than that, to Shay’s considerable consternation. The woman, though no older than Shay, had pure white hair, held back in a plait that fell halfway down her back. And though the irises were only a thin ring around pupils blown wide in the blackness, her eyes were a distinctive brilliant blue.

The woman was Undine.

Only one in a thousand were born Elemental. Sylphs commanded the air; Chthonic shaped the earth; Salamas forged fire; and the Undine wielded water on a world that was primarily ocean, making them the most powerful of all. Elementals used their abilities to make themselves extremely wealthy and politically powerful. All the nation’s rulers outside of the Shadow Lands were Elemental. The Queen was. Practically all in the Ruling Council were. Shay had never heard of one who would work for as little gold as a marshal made.

What in the Lady’s name was she doing in the Shadows?

But the question had to wait as Shay moved forward and slashed the nearest wraith, her blade digging deep. It wasn’t like cutting flesh or bone. This substance was spongy and sinewy, like digging through sand, but the creature screamed in agony and turned on Shay, who dispatched it with a swift slice across the throat, although as far as she could tell, wraiths didn’t breathe. But they did eat. If she and the stranger couldn’t defeat these creatures, they’d be consumed. In the next step, she was ducking beneath the swing of the sword and snugging up behind the woman.

“Who’s there?” But even with the terse demand, the woman fell naturally into the defensive position of them back-to-back as they faced the remaining four wraiths.

“Courier Rider Shay Kendrith,” she stated, slicing through the air and catching a wraith, causing it to shriek, a sound that made her ears hurt and fearful of what it would attract.

“Marshal Keagan Riley.” She slammed her shield into an approaching wraith, forcing it back. “I can’t see.”

Shay wasn’t surprised. She was, however, considerably astonished and impressed by Keagan’s ability to have survived this long with her senses hindered, all the while defending herself against this many wraiths.

“We can’t stay here,” Shay said, parrying a strike from swiping claws, the clash causing a streak of sparks. “This battle will draw more of them.”

“I’m open to suggestions. Not even sure how I got here.”

Shay filed that remark away to consider later. Then a flicker caught the corner of her eye, and she glanced over to see one of the wraiths draw something from within its form. It looked like a crystal, clear, cut into a diamond shape with ruby veins laced through it, about the size of a goose egg, but apparently heavy enough that the wraith needed both appendages to hold it.

Dear Lady, they were using tools now? She’d never heard of such a thing and braced herself for it to wield it like a hammer to crush their skulls, or to throw it at them. Instead, the wraith raised it into the air above its head, almost as if it were offering it up to some unknown deity. Shay barely had time to goggle at that oddity when the rock emitted a sudden flash of reddish light that blinded her. She cried out, looking away, spots dancing in her eyes. Behind her, she felt Keagan stagger, then slump back against her, downed from some unknown injury.

“Onyx, to me, now!” Shay screamed, panicked. “Come to me!”

Hoof-beats thundered toward her, the horse’s dark form appearing in the murk, knocking aside two wraiths. Slashing wildly with one hand to keep the wraiths at bay, Shay dropped her other dagger and slipped her arm around Keagan’s waist. In one motion, Shay heaved her up into the saddle before swinging up behind her and digging her heels deeply into Onyx’s side. He sprang forward, ever trusting her lead, lunging into full gallop without hesitation.

Without direction, wanting only to escape, Shay didn’t slow, shuddering as she heard the shrieks of the wraiths in pursuit. Worse, she began to hear other cries from around and in front of them as tiny sparks of red began to appear. At this point, she couldn’t feel the location of any Path, nor did she think they’d be safe on one even if she could. The whole situation was so far removed from what she knew and understood about the Shadows that she was terrified. That left her few options. It went against all her training, her years of experience, and every instinct of self-preservation, but she could see no other choice.

With a surge that left her head aching, she tore open an entry immediately in front of her, a profoundly desperate and dangerous action. They could come out of the unmarked Shadows anywhere. Inside a rock face, over a yawning chasm, or even in the center of a city building. But since she was probably still near the island nation of Aquas, the chances were that they’d exit—

She barely had time to register the heaving swells below before they were plummeting twenty feet down into the turquoise depths of the Paracelsus Sea, the section of ocean separating Aquas from the rest of the nations. Losing her grip on both Onyx and Keagan, Shay forced herself not to panic, grabbing a deep breath before she hit the surface with a mighty splash. For a few seconds she remained still until she could right herself, natural buoyancy causing her to rise. Salt stung her eyes as she breached with a shout, drawing in sweet gulps of air to the very pit of her lungs. Whirling, she found Onyx gamely swimming near her, but no sign of the marshal. Sucking in another breath, she ducked below the surface, searching the sea water that seemed remarkably bright and clear after the Shadow Realm.

She spotted Keagan, a strangely graceful mass drifting down, unresponsive. Swimming strongly, Shay dove down and snagged the trailing cloak, yanking Keagan upward with her. Once they surfaced, she thumped Keagan on the back, gratified when water spewed from her mouth and she began to breathe raggedly, though Shay was unsure if an Undine could actually drown. She remained unconscious, however, and had a disturbing tendency to sink because of her armor. Treading water as she held her up, Shay tried to see how she was injured or, worse, if she was bleeding. That would attract as much undesirable attention as light did in the Shadows, but she couldn’t see any obvious trauma or any trace of blood in the water.

Holding Keagan under her arm so she was easier to pull, Shay looked around, tremendously relieved when she saw land a reasonable distance away. Onyx was already swimming toward it, but he stopped when Shay whistled, waiting until she could swim to him and take hold of a strap on his saddle.

“Go!” She urged him on.

It was a miserable swim, with the horse taking most of the burden, but finally, she felt the bottom beneath her feet as they emerged from the gentle waves breaking around them. With an effort, she released the strap, took a stronger hold on Keagan, and began to drag her up onto the sandy beach. Staggering around rocks and driftwood until she felt safe enough to fall down, she dropped Keagan and splayed on her back as she stared up into the sky, wondering where she was.

Not far away, Onyx shimmied violently, shaking off the water as his penetrating whinny disturbed nearby gulls, sending them shrieking into the air. With a groan, Shay rolled to her feet and stumbled over to him. “Good boy,” she said, thumping him lovingly on the neck before hugging him tightly. “You saved us all.”

Digging into the salt-soaked saddlebags, she drew out a couple of carrots, feeding them to him as she praised his strength and courage. Then she stripped off his tack and dropped it onto the sand, freeing him to trot toward the nearest bits of grass growing sparsely at the edge of the jungle. From within the depths, sounds from more birds, mammals, and reptiles echoed, indicating an immediate lack of large predators, and, feeling herself relax just a little, Shay turned to the motionless form lying in the sand.

She supposed she should have attended to Keagan immediately, but she was a Rider and looked to her mount first and foremost. Besides, the woman would either survive or she wouldn’t. Shay’s medical skills were rudimentary at best, and if Keagan was seriously injured, she couldn’t do much about it. But as she looked Keagan over, she couldn’t find anything major—no slashes on her body or bruising on the head, no obvious wounds—yet she remained oblivious, unresponsive to Shay’s exhortations.

She was pretty, though, Shay thought idly, even looking half drowned. Keagan’s snowy hair framed strong, well-defined features, her long eyelashes throwing whisper lines across the high-boned cheeks. Her lips were thin, but it was a sweet mouth, a slight curve up at each corner even while she was unconscious.

Shay shook her head, realized she’d been staring, and forced herself back to the situation at hand. Unstrapping her bedroll from the saddle, she carried over the blanket that had remained dry within the sleeping pad and draped it over Keagan. She didn’t know if it would do any good, but it made her feel like she had accomplished something useful. They were both drenched, but the day was warm, and neither was in danger of hypothermia. Their clothes would dry. In the meantime, Shay concluded that they weren’t going anywhere unless Keagan showed some sign of regaining her senses.

Until then, she built a fire, not for the heat, but for the protection from predators, dragging over as much driftwood as she could find. Then she sat and began sorting through her saddlebags, taking inventory. Besides the carrots and apples she carried for Onyx, she had some dried meat, a few cornmeal wraps, and a small bag of travel mix comprised of nuts, seeds, and dried fruit. Not a lot, but enough to feed them for a couple of days if they rationed it. In addition, she had a few changes of undergarments, her throwing stars, some travel soap and shampoo, and brushes for both her and Onyx. She also had the standard survival pack that she had never used but was expected to always carry, which contained hand-drawn maps of the Five Nations, a compass, fishing line, hooks, bandages, medical ointment, and a small cooking pot. Strapped to her saddle was a sealed canteen full of drinking water and a coiled rope.

Last, but not least, was the courier packet that she’d been assigned to deliver that day to the court in Arias. That wouldn’t happen now, she thought with a wince. Knowing the protocol, she inhaled sharply and tossed the packet into the fire without opening it, watching the flames turn violet as they consumed the pouch and its undoubtedly very important, very crucial diplomatic paperwork. Not only would she lose the commission, she thought morosely, but she would also have to pay a hefty fine for non-delivery.

Slumping back against the silvery bulk of a log, she sighed and stared grimly at the fire. How in the Lady’s name had she managed to get herself into this mess?

Shadow Rider will be released in September, 2024

bottom of page