“Legend says,” Breckan continues, “tha first Shadowalker began as a vessel of tha Void.”
I look up just as Breckan casts a backward glance toward Isaach. A teasing, playful look. He lifts the pint that might as well be glued to his palm, then winks. Something tells me they’re sharing an inside joke meant for the two of them alone.
“Corrupt was tha vessel. Loathsome.” Her face contorts, as if she’s donning a scary mask. “Rather than fight against tha Void, tha vessel welcomed it. It began with a single bend of the will, but soon became more. Even tha Verity’s vessel could do nothing ta stop it. For when tha Void’s vessel began ta love himself more than tha one who held tha Verity, that’s when things went south.”
A low murmur passes like a wave over the tribe. Some excited. Some in awe. They must’ve heard this story before, but still they take it in as if they’re hearing it for the first time.
“When tha Void moved on ta another, tha previous vessel remained loyal ta tha darkness. Followed tha new vessel everywhere and soon convinced others ta join as well.”
Tiernan. Jasyn. Gage. All willingly surrendered to the Void. No one forced them like with Ky or the Soulless.
“Heed me warning, friends. Listen to me words. For here is tha moral of me tale. We all have a little darkness in us, but tha choice is yers. Will ya fight it?” She puts up her fists. “Or will ya bow?” She flourishes her arm in a wide sweep. Stare intense, she lets her gaze pass over us all, as if allowing her words to sink in. Then, after what seems like eons, she backs away and sits on Isaach’s lap.
He kisses his wife full on the mouth and she returns the sentiment with fervor, grabbing his face between her hands. The tribe hollers and whistles. Someone begins a song on the bagpipes. Children rise and dance in circles around the fire. Knee slaps, claps, guffaws, and giggles. All are present. All should lift my spirits.
But my mood is not so joyous. My heart droops and I lean my head on Ky’s shoulder, blocking my thoughts as I wonder . . .
Has Joshua chosen the life of a Shadowalker?
FORTY-FOUR
Joshua
Where am I?”
My eyes awaken to darkness. It consumes me, pulling me under. I see and feel nothing. I cannot recall what hour it is. Is it day or night? How long have I been out? Am I still out? Blackness is my only company, weighing heavy on my soul. I try to claw at it, but I cannot move. My arms feel pinned at my sides, and my legs are filled with lead. When I inhale it’s as if I’m breathing smoke. An attempt to choke it away is futile. The fumes will not recede. Have I died?
“In a way, yes,” a voice says, though it is not the sinister hiss I’ve come to know recently. This voice is much more horrifying, because this voice is not foreign, as this voice sounds like my own.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“Who else?” he says. “I am you.”
I try to sit, though I have no way to decipher if I am lying down or standing up. It’s as if I am in a state of limbo. There is no north or south, no right or left. There is only darkness and my own voice taunting me in my head.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You’ve kept me suppressed for so long, but I’ve longed to be released. When you finally began to unlock my chains, I knew it was only a matter of time before you allowed me to take over completely.”
Head pounding, I attempt the smallest movement. A roll of my wrist or a turn of my head. But I remain stationary, imprisoned in the darkness of my own mind.
“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” he asks. “To be trapped inside yourself? Welcome to my world.”
I want to draw my sword, but my fingers won’t so much as twitch at my sides. “Who are you? Where am I?” The desire to pass out again presses on my eyelids, but I force them wide. “Do not play games with me.”
“I told you. I am you, or a version of you. You may call me Josh, if you wish.”
A guttural sound emits from my throat. If I could, I’d clench my fists and punch this imposter in his invisible face. I always hated when someone slipped and called me Josh. It’s not my name. “Where am I? Do not make me ask again.”
“The light in your soul has been captured. Taken over by me, the most selfish, most shadowed part of you.”
It cannot be. “Release me, you swine.” My soul thrashes. “Release me or I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” Josh jeers. “You are helpless now that I have at last risen to the surface. And we have a job to do. The Elixir—”
No! What have I done? What could I have possibly been thinking? This isn’t the way. “Don’t you touch her.” The words seethe, hot coals on my own head. “You go near her and I swear I’ll—”
“Again with the threats.” I can almost envision my evil side with arms crossed and eyes narrowed, a wicked smile plastered on his face. “You have no power over me anymore. I am free. And I’ll not be returning to my prison.”
With all my might I lash against the darkness, against the Void I so foolishly allowed to spread. My muscles burn, but I don’t relent. My chest feels as if it may explode as Josh continues to hiss in my ear.
“Allow this. Welcome it.”
“No!”
“This is your punishment.”
“I can do better. I can do right. I can be good. I can overcome.”
“She deserves better than you.”
I cease my fight.
Josh isn’t wrong. After all I’ve done, lying, bartering with traitors, murdering the countess . . . do I truly believe El would have me? No doubt she’d take one look at me and see the horror I’ve become.
I exhale and rest, the darkness like a ton of bricks pressing in. I don’t think of it as giving up, but more like letting go. A release of sorts. The Void has latched onto my mind now, a virus taking over the network of my brain. I am no longer Joshua, but Josh. The Void is in control. The release lifts a burden I can no longer bear.
I close my eyes and El’s face fills my mind as I drift off to sleep.
FORTY-FIVE
Calling to Me
I can’t remember where or from whom, but at one point I heard time is like a river. Maybe it was Disney’s Pocahontas, or perhaps it was that super-nerdy kid Greg in fourth grade who always went on and on about The Legend of Zelda. Either way, I’m stealing the phrase. Because as we follow the shore along the Docolora River, one thing is certain.
You can’t stop time.
It’s always flowing and changing. You can try to pause its course, even alter it. But it continues moving and eventually builds up and bursts free, pouring over the dam you created. The flow of time is inevitable. Fight it or go with it. But no matter what you do, you can’t turn back. I think Dimitri was wrong in that regard. He said time is a loop, but how can it be?
No one can change the past.
I rub my droopy eyes, checking to ensure, once again, that I didn’t leave Dimitri’s journal behind. I read late into the night until the last flicker of campfire faded. The chapter on mirrorglass only confirmed Ky’s assumption that the crown had something to do with recent catastrophic events. I draw it to the surface of my mind, using my Scrib memory to recall every detail.
Second Day, Twelfth Month, Eleventh Year of Count VonKemp