Shadow Heir

When the Hemlock group had first described “peacekeepers,” the dryads had become the model in my mind. I figured we could expect to see more of the same type of obstacle: creatures or monsters that had to be overcome by magic or brute force. In some ways, the various arctic creatures we’d encountered in the blight met this description. They preyed on those who weren’t Varia’s cronies. So, I was on the lookout for living foes, not inanimate ones, which made it that much more of a surprise when the road turned into a lake the next morning.

We had just crossed into a subjugated kingdom, but such crossings were growing fewer and fewer as we approached the heart of the Yew Land. Most of our travels were now strictly in the Yew Land. Our new companions had told us that we could expect to find a road branching off this one soon that would lead toward the capital. Volusian’s rough directions matched this, so I was optimistic about finding it the next time we were back in the Yew kingdom.

Like many things in the Otherworld, the lake appeared out of nowhere. One moment we were trotting down the road, the next there was water as far as the eye could see. My horse shied and came to a halt, and I shared its unease. The water was unnaturally smooth and still, like a sheet of glass spread out before us. I couldn’t see its end.

“That’s an optical illusion, right?” I asked, gesturing vaguely forward. “The water can’t go on forever. It’s like when a kingdom seems to extend ahead, and two steps later, you walk into another one.”

“Yes and no,” said Dorian. “The water most certainly doesn’t go on forever. What’s wrong here is that the main roads of this world don’t naturally have these kinds of obstacles and impediments. Think about how even in the blighted lands, the roads stayed semi-clear. That’s their magic. They cross the Otherworld unbound. For this lake to be here, someone went to a lot of trouble to put it here.”

“Like Varia,” guessed Rurik.

Orj nodded as he dismounted and walked to the water’s edge with a sneer. “This is a peacekeeper. Most likely there’s a word or charm that the residents here use to bypass this or make it clear up. The rest of us ... we either have to turn around or find a way through.”

Pagiel tilted his head. “Is it really even that deep? Maybe we can just ford it with horses.”

Jasmine spoke before I could. “It’s deep. It gets deep really fast, actually ... but it doesn’t go as far as it looks.” She glanced at me. “Can you feel it?”

I opened up my magical senses and called to the water, trying to feel what she had. Sure enough, my illusion suspicion was correct. The water didn’t extend “forever,” but it was very deep and still enough of a distance across that it would delay us.

“Too much for me to move,” added Jasmine.

“Me too,” I agreed quickly.

Her eyebrows rose. “No way. You could wipe this whole thing out if you wanted.”

“No,” I said firmly, hoping she caught my tone. “I can’t.”

Jasmine bit her lip and said no more. The truth was, I had a feeling I could have parted this water in classic Bible style. It would take a lot of power ... but I had it. The problem was, I didn’t want to do it in front of the Hemlock people. Maybe they weren’t our enemies, but there was only a handful of people who could work magic like that with water, and I wasn’t ready to reveal my identity. We’d even given false names.

Dorian had dismounted and was pacing around. To my surprise, he’d stopped paying attention to the lake and was instead checking out the terrain we’d just come through. The kingdom—none of us were sure which one it was—had a stony landscape, with a heavy, silt soil. Vegetation was sparse, and off in the distance, rocky foothills rose from the land and eventually gave way to far off mountains. Dorian seemed to be murmuring something to himself and then gave a satisfied nod. He turned to one of the Hemlock people, a young man who looked to be a little younger than Pagiel.

“You,” said Dorian. “You have some sort of earth magic, correct?”

The boy blinked in surprise. “Er, yes. I’m able to manipulate stones and rocks. I—I sculpt them sometimes.”

“Well,” said Dorian. “You may have to lower yourself to something a little less refined, but hopefully your skills will be adequate.”

“What do you have in mind?” asked Kiyo. He made no attempt to hide the mistrust in his voice. Maybe he felt Dorian had a lot to offer on this quest, but Kiyo wasn’t about to accept Dorian’s decisions blindly.

“We’re going to build our own road,” explained Dorian. “My young friend here and I—what’s your name again?”

“Kellum,” squeaked the boy.

“Kellum,” repeated Dorian. “Right. Kellum and I are going to use dirt and rocks to create a road across. Or, well, I’ll use dirt and rocks. He’ll assist with the rocks. There’s plenty of raw material out here to work with.”

I shook my head. “Not to reach the bottom. It’s too deep.”