Hidden Magic of Aldarae: The Shadow

It’s my job, see?

I stole the thing cause it’s my job, no other grand reason. Not for love or honor or to save a dying child. Nope. Just for the money.

I lie a lot, to a lot of people, but the one person I will never lie to is myself. I won’t pretend to be something I’m not—well, not to me at any rate. What’s the point, you know? Doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Anyway.

It seemed like an easy enough job at first, almost too easy really. A man in a dark cloak with the hood drawn up over his face grabbed my arm as I was slipping down one of the alleys to Market District and told me he had a job for me. Said he’d heard about me, that he’d been told if he wanted something the Shadow could get it for him, easy as winking. Showed me a bit of paper with a drawing on it, a silver necklace with a sort of tree design carved into the pendant. It was a pretty thing, delicate, and I’ll admit I was tempted to steal the thing for myself. Then he told me how much he’d pay and I almost passed out. Triple what I could’ve got from hawking the thing to old man Perryn, at least.

Well, nothing’s ever that good, is it? I knew there had to be some kind of catch, and I told him so. He just kind of chuckled at me--which was right creepy, coming out of the darkness of his hood like that--and promised, “No catch. Just a job, in and out.” He just needed me to steal Lady Alinore’s necklace.

Right. And that right there was the catch. I told him he was crazy, and if he thought I was going to risk my neck for a silly bit of sparkle like that I would tell him exactly where he could stick that necklace. No one had ever pulled a job on Ravenfell Manor. No one was that stupid, and those who were didn’t live to tell about it.

But the man chuckled again and told me he’d take care of getting me in. That was the easy part, according to him. I asked why he didn’t just do it himself then, and he said it was ‘cause he couldn’t risk being recognized, but me…

Well. I could be anybody, couldn’t I?

Now, I’m not stupid. If he was too scared of being recognized to get the trinket himself he must be a Somebody, some lord or duke or what-have-you, and why would someone like that need someone like me? But the money was so good…with the pay from this job, I could get off the streets for good. I’d never spend another night hungry on some doorstep, never have to use the knife I kept at the small of my back for anything but carving apples, never have to--

So I said yes. The faceless cloak nodded and told me to meet him at the golden fountain where Market Street crossed Haring Road just before dawn. Then he sort of shrank back into the shadows.

Well, I’m true to my word—when the pay’s good, at least—so I met him just as the sky started to turn gray at the edges, that time when the sun can’t quite decide if she’s actually going to make an appearance or maybe just go back to bed for a bit. My employer was waiting by the fountain, leaning back on it and looking up at the still star-speckled sky. At least, I assumed that’s where he was looking, kinda hard to tell with the hood and all.

I sidled up next to him and he asked if I was ready. That seemed a bit odd to me; was he going to just give me all the details for this job where anyone could just happen along and spot us? Granted, it was early, but the fountain wasn’t exactly a secretive place. When I voiced my concern, he did that low chuckling thing and told me not to worry. All I needed to focus on was getting the necklace. Then he began muttering in Old Tongue, and I almost ran.

I hadn’t signed on to work for a sorcerer.

Before I could do much more than blink, though, he finished whatever spell he was chanting and reached up to touch my forehead.

Next thing I knew, I was lying flat on my back in the middle of the Ravenfell gardens, the sun shining cheerily overhead, and some poor servant boy looking at me as though I’d just fallen from the sky.

I pushed myself up and the boy suddenly snapped to life, wide-eyed and quick-tongued, and he started running for the manor, shouting back that he would “Get some help, milady, just hold on a moment!”

Milady? Who calls a street-grubby, ragged-dressed thing like me milady? Only…I frowned, running my hands down my sides, feeling soft, unfamiliar fabric, and looking down at my clothes--

Or what used to be my clothes…

What in the thirteen hells?

I didn’t have long to wonder about it, because the boy was back in a flash, trailing a young man with sun-gilded hair and sharp blue eyes who was wearing clothes so fine the money it took to pay for them probably would have fed a family of five for six months. Over his left breast pocket was an embroidered insignia of a raven silhouetted against a crescent moon.

Oh cripes. I gulped and dipped into an awkward curtsy, barely noticing that I was somehow wearing heavy skirts that allowed me to do so. “Hello, milord,” I murmured as respectfully as possible.

The young Lord Ravenfell—having just inherited the title from his recently deceased father—looked me up and down curiously. He asked who I was, how I had gotten into the gardens, what House did I hail from, and wouldn’t I like some sort of refreshment. Instantly I was in my element. Lies were where I was comfortable.

So I became Lady Elaine, hailing from a small hamlet to the north—House Bluehill, such an exalted Lord as himself certainly wouldn’t have heard of it--and I had come to the capitol at the request of my father to pay our respects to the new Lord of House Ravenfell, and offer our deepest condolences. But I had run into a mysterious cloaked man just outside of the markets and he had chanted in Old Tongue then touched me, and the next moment I was waking up in their gardens. And yes, I would love some water if they would be so kind.

The best lies are furnished with just a whisper of truth, and Lord Ravenfell bought it instantly. He ordered the servant to run to the kitchens for some food and drink, then offered me his arm. He expressed his sympathies about my traumatic encounter with a sorcerer- he and the other lords were doing their best to stamp out the breed, of course, but the filthy things were like cockroaches- as we walked toward the manor. I hmmed and looked up at him with interest, batting my eyes innocently, and he ate it up. I saw his eyes wonder over my form, now cleaned of grime and clad in a sea blue gown with gold trim that had been the inspiration for my “family name,” more than once and I smiled blushingly, letting my eyes drop to my delicately slippered feet.

Men are easy. Rich, entitled men are even easier.

I met the Lady Alinore, young Lord Ravenfell’s baby sister, almost immediately upon entering the manor, a ridiculously large and lavish building, even just the few rooms I saw before being led to the dining hall. She was perched on the edge of the table, golden waves of hair pinned back and twisted into a demure plait over her shoulder, dressed in Ravenfell silver and black with a book open on her lap.

“Allie, get down,” the lord snapped, and she jerked out of her book, looking up at us with wide gray eyes. When she saw me, her eyes sharpened with interest and a level of intelligence that most twelve-year-olds didn’t possess.

“Oh, don’t snap at me just because you’ve got a new girl to strut for, Alric,” she sighed, slipping off the table and tucking the small book into a fold of her skirts. Lord Ravenfell went red and spluttered.

Instantly, and quite despite myself, I liked her.

The two siblings started bickering, Alinore clearly having the upper hand, and when she tossed her head to emphasize a point, something about her brother thinking far too highly of himself since their father’s death, I saw the glimmer of silver around her neck.

There it was. But I couldn’t just snatch it from her, I had to wait until she took it off. I needed to make sure I was around when that happened. So I cut across their argument with a carefully dramatic sigh, leaning against Lord Ravenfell’s arm heavily. He started and looked at me, blue eyes startled but quickly darkening with a kind of hunger I was all too used to.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly, widening my eyes and looking up at him hopefully with just a hint of desperation. “I’m so very tired. I don’t suppose I could lie down for a moment?”

Of course I could, of course. He would have the servants make up a room for me, I could stay as long as I needed. And he would speak to the Captain of the City Guard about increasing their efforts to track down any sorcerer within the city walls, I needn’t worry about that.

I thanked him breathily, giving a curtsy and a smile to the young Lady Ravenfell, who smiled back at me politely.

I was in.

It took longer than I would have thought. Almost three whole days before I had a chance to snatch the necklace. Every evening, when I retired to “my” chambers, there was a bit of rolled paper tucked under my pillow, tied with a scrap of green ribbon. The first night, when I unrolled it, the words “I’ve done my part, now do yours.” were scrawled across it in unfamiliar handwriting.

I wasn’t at all sure how these magic sort of things worked, so I scribbled underneath the message: “You withheld information. I never agreed to be mixed up in gods-know-what kind of magical power play. I’ll get your damned necklace, but I’m doing it my way. You’ll just have to be patient.” I slipped the tiny scroll back under my pillow and went to sleep. When I woke, it was gone.

The next night, the message was a bit longer. “You have one week. I’ll wait for you at the city gates three hours before dawn one hour each night. Meet me when you have the necklace.”

My reply was only one word. “Understood.”

When I woke the third morning, it was to Lady Alinore’s knock at my door. “Lady Elaine?” she called. “Wake up, sleepy, we’re free of Alric for a few hours. He’s gone to see the Warranhalls with mother.”

I smiled and bounced--yes, bounced, me--out of bed to meet her.

Quite against my own will, and instincts of self-preservation, I had grown fond of the young noble girl over the first couple days. Unlike Lord Ravenfell and Lady Ravenfell the Elder, she seemed like an actual person: she laughed when she thought something was funny instead of the small behind-the-hand smile, she wasn’t afraid to call out her brother on his pompousness. She liked to read, and ride, and I think if she had her druthers she’d spend every waking hour out in the gardens under the sun.

Maybe not all the gentry were total pigs.

I’ll admit my budding…fondness—it was not affection—made my job just a bit harder. Allie--Lady Alinore had told me the necklace was left to her by her late father. She didn’t really care for it, she said, she preferred gold to silver, wasn’t that ironic? But she wore it for him. I got the feeling he’d been a distant parent, but he was still her father.

So when the sun set on the third evening and Alinore had fallen asleep on the window seat next to me in the library and I offered to take her up to her room, shooing way the servants, I actually hesitated when I laid her in her immense four-poster bed, my fingers skimming over the chain around her neck with a feather light touch. She had taken her hair down earlier and it fanned around her head like a golden halo, catching and reflecting the candlelight in the room.

It suddenly hit me, why she affected me so. She was like Della, before Pa had left, before Mama had gotten sick, before we were left on the streets with no one to turn to. Before…

She was just like Della.

But I had a job to do. So I slipped my fingers to the clasp at her neck and flicked the catch, letting the chain and pendent pool into my palm. I straightened up quickly and turned to the window. No point in staying now, may as well get out under cover of darkness. As I threw one leg over the sill, heedless now of my fine dress, I looked back at Alinore’s sleeping face.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Her eyes opened and I froze. For a moment we simply stared at each other; it was as though time had stopped. Then a smile broke across the girl’s face, kind and understanding, and she mouthed, “I forgive you.”

My heart twisted in a way it hadn’t since Della’s death. I turned and slid out the window onto the roof, then climbed quickly down to the ground. I ran through the gardens to the manor gates, then up and over in a flash. I hit the cobbled street and kept running.

I didn’t look back.

I met my cloaked employer at the appointed time, in the shadow of an abandoned house just inside the city gates. We exchanged coins for necklace and he nodded once, apparently satisfied.

"Thank you."

He made as if to turn, to disappear back into the darkness. “Wait,” I hissed, grabbing at his arm.

He paused, turning his head to look back at me, and I caught a glimmer of gold from under the hood. From his eyes…? I put it from my mind. “Why did you need it?” I asked, quiet but fierce, staring up at where that glimmer had come from.

“You don’t need to know,” he responded gruffly, tugging at his arm.

I refused to let go. “Tell me, or I go to the guards and turn you in for sorcery right now,” I spat, glaring. I don’t know why I threatened him, why I needed to know so badly, but I did.

He jerked his head back slightly, like a startled horse, and for the first time I saw his face. It was only a flash, he was hidden beneath his hood again in less than a moment, but I saw enough. I saw the hooded, golden eyes and the scar that dragged diagonally across his face.

I stepped back, suddenly terrified, and now it was him holding my arm and not the other way around. “You will not go to the guards,” he said, voice low and dangerous. I felt power crackle in the air around us and my throat went dry. I couldn’t speak, could barely breathe. “You will tell no one of our meeting. You will take your money and go about your life as though I had never existed. Nod if you understand.”

Slowly, hating myself, I nodded. I hated submitting, hated the idea of following orders without being paid, but I was afraid. For the first time in a long time so, so afraid.

“Good.” He released my arm with a slight shove and I staggered back. I watched him as he began to fade into the gloom and just barely heard him murmur. “Please, do not wander far. I may need you again, Shae.”

I gasped audibly. Then I turned and ran.

He knew my name. How did he know my name? Why did he want the necklace? Why had it hurt so much to steal the damn thing?

No. I couldn’t do this, not now. I couldn’t question, I couldn’t fear, I couldn’t feel.

A Shadow doesn’t have a heart.