Shadow

Shadow spent the first hour or so after everyone else fell asleep staring up at the slats underneath Finch's bed, just thinking and waiting. Luther hadn't said much about his plans over the phone, but Shadow had heard the things he wasn't saying. The pauses. The careful word choices. He still didn't know what they were going to do about any of this. 

At least they'd be together. Or—hopefully, anyway. Shadow didn't think the two of them stood much chance against Katrina if it came to a fight, but if it did, he didn't want Luther to face her alone. Was that selfish, since Luther would probably actually prefer to? Maybe. Probably. He couldn't think of anything worse, though, than waking up one day to find that Luther was just gone. Most people had to live with the knowledge that they would lose their parents some day. Not Shadow. Luther was supposed to always be there. 

He sighed and wriggled his way out from under the bed.  

Adin sat in a chair on the far side of it, reading a book by the warm yellow light of one of the battery-powered lanterns. He didn't look up. Shadow wanted a book too. Something to do with his hands. Something to drag his thoughts away from the spiral they’d fallen into. 

He wasn't supposed to leave the room, but there was a shelf above Adin's desk just outside the door, and the house was silent, and nothing bad could happen in the thirty seconds it would take to duck out, grab a book, and slip back. Especially not if he pushed all attention away from himself. 

He crept to the door, eased it open, and slipped out.  

Adin's books leaned in tidy rows above the desk. Most of them were too academic for Shadow's frazzled brain—Spectral Horizons: A Comparative Study of Ghosts, Spirits, and Gods Across Planar Boundaries, Unexplained Worldly Resonances—and his eyes slid past them until they snagged on something thicker and friendlier-looking near the end. The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Beasts, Vol 1. A picture book. He could probably manage a picture book. 

He reached for it.

Glass shattered.

The sound froze him mid-motion. He shoved attention away from himself with everything he had, even though there wasn't any on him to shove, and took a step back toward Finch's room.

Light whited out his vision.

A screech tore through the house, high and inhuman, and a wave of heat slammed into him hard enough to push him back another step. His breath came shallow and fast. His heart was hammering in his ears.

Had he been running?

Yes—he'd been running so long, so far, separated from his family and pursued by something that didn't get tired, didn't slow down, didn't stop. The first grey hint of dawn had finally sent the creature scurrying for whatever tunnel or cave it could find before the sun caught it, and Shadow had been left lost and alone and so very, very young. He crouched and folded his arms over his head to shield himself from the heat and the light, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon and already he could feel his skin starting to—

Something grabbed his arm and yanked him up and backwards.

For half a second he thought the monster had come back, and a small part of him was almost relieved that he wouldn't have to die to the light after all. But it was a hand, and he was inside, and though his vision was still nothing but glare, the slam of a door in front of him cut the brightness down to a dim afterimage burning behind his eyes. 

A hand closed on his shoulder and gave it a firm shake, and he knew it was Finch. He wasn't a little boy anymore. That light wasn't the sun.

The house was on fire. He could smell the smoke now.

Finch left his side, and Shadow blinked enough of the glare out of his eyes to make out the shape of him sliding the window open and then knocking the screen out with a single swift kick.

Finch and Adin helped Malyn out first, then Finch grabbed Shadow under the arms and all but tossed him through the window. He hit the ground harder than he'd meant to and scrambled out of the way. Malyn was coughing viciously as he helped Tyla through from their side, and then… nothing. Adin and Finch didn’t follow.

Tyla pulled Malyn back from the house, an arm around his shoulders, and Shadow trailed behind them because he didn't know what else to do. His eyes stung from smoke and from the bright orange light spilling out of a broken window at the front of the house. Every now and then a strange animal cry tore through from somewhere inside—angry, not distressed. Shadow pressed his lips together and tried to control his breathing as the heat rolled out across the lawn in waves. 

Just when he was sure Finch wasn't coming out, his bag came sailing through the window. Then a pile of heavy black clothing. Then a safe, of all things. Finally, Finch climbed out. 

"Idiot," Malyn said, already moving before Finch's feet hit the ground. He threw his arms around Finch and walked him backwards across the lawn with the hug still locked in place, putting distance between them and the house. Then, muffled into Finch's shoulder: "Where's Adin?" 

Finch hesitated. “I don’t know. He went into the house.”

Malyn was overtaken by another fit of coughing, and when he finally surfaced from it he stared up at the burning house with such pure, hollow dread that Shadow had to look away. "Maybe he went out the back door…" 

“I can survive the burns,” Finch said. “I can go look.”

Finch made it one step back towards the house before Malyn grabbed him and wrapped his arms around him as tight as he could. “No.”

"He's right," Tyla said quietly, laying a hand on Finch's back. He was still staring up at the house, the firelight painting his pale face in oranges and golds. "I don't know any magic to put out fires. I could have learnt—I could have, I just never thought—" His voice caught. 

Malyn unhooked one arm from Finch and slung it around Tyla, turning the restraint into a group hug. The three of them stood pressed together, watching the fire eat through the front rooms. 

That was when Shadow heard it.

A rattle. Underneath the roar of the fire and the cracking of timber, a different mechanical sound altogether—a slow, deliberate one that didn't belong. He squinted against the glare. The garage door was inching upward.

"Finch!"

It came out of him before he knew it was coming, louder than he'd ever spoken before, the only time in his life he'd ever shouted. It scraped his throat raw on the way out. He pointed.

Finch ducked out of Malyn's embrace and ran. Malyn drew in a shaky, reedy breath as Finch dropped flat and slid under the gap.

Seconds stretched out. Shadow counted his own heartbeat without meaning to.

Then the door began to grind upward faster, and two figures came staggering out of the billowing smoke pushing Malyn's motorcycle between them. Adin. Finch. Both filthy. Both alive.

The moment they cleared the driveway, Malyn was on Adin, arms locked around him so tight it had to hurt.  “Thank you. Don’t ever do that again.”

They retreated to the far side of the road and Finch pulled out his phone to call the fire department. Everyone was coughing now, but Malyn worst of all—wheezing, struggling to pull a full breath. Tyla helped him sit on the curb and rubbed slow circles between his shoulder blades. 

That was when Shadow felt it.

That gaze. The pressure of it on the back of his neck, that animal sense of being seen by something that wanted him. He turned.

Katrina was walking toward them through the smoke that filled the street, unhurried, like a woman out for an evening stroll. 

He wanted to run. Instead, he grabbed Finch’s elbow and nodded in her direction.

Finch dragged Malyn to his feet and the five of them clustered together. 

Katrina stopped in front of them and set her hands on her hips. Adin's injuries were healing well, but his body still carried the marks of last night—the dark line of a scabbed-over cut on his forehead, the careful favouring of one side when he stood. Katrina's didn't. If Shadow hadn't known Adin had hurt her, he wouldn't have guessed.

"If you give me Shadow now, this ends here," she said. "I won't bother any of you again. But if you don't…" 

Shadow tried to step forward. Finch's hand clamped down on his arm. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Finch said. “We don’t like bullies.”

"And us bullies don't care if you like us or not. Last chance. You have no idea how much I can hurt you." 

“Don’t act like you’re being generous. You’d just take him from us right now if you thought it’d be easy.”

“Yes, good job, you figured out why I’d rather not fight you for him. That doesn’t mean I won’t grab your soft little human friend there the second he’s alone and find out how loud he can scream.”

Tyla's arm tightened around Malyn. Shadow felt his stomach turn over and tried again to pull forward; Finch's grip didn't budge. 

"Your strategy could use some work," Adin interjected, voice level. "How smart do you think it is to put people in situations where they'll feel compelled to find some way to defeat you?" 

Katrina looked unimpressed. “I’m not forcing you to be in that situation. You have a choice. You’re making it.”

"You have a choice here too," Adin said. "But it isn't one we're going to be able to talk you out of, and you're not going to talk us out of ours either. It seems we're at an impasse." 

Finch released his grip on Shadow's arm and slung it across his shoulders instead, pulling him in against his side. "So you might as well fuck off is what he's too polite to say." 

"Hm." She tilted her head, listening to something. For a long moment she was very still. "I hear sirens, so I think I'll do that. Enjoy the rest of your night, gentlemen." 

She turned and walked back down the street, unhurried, the same way she'd come.