Page 88 of Shadows of Nightshade
“No, but…” Finn’s protest faded. It was too late—I was already halfway down the stairs. I didn’t stop until I reached the landing, relying entirely on the handrail and feeling to guide my way, and glanced back. He still stayed at the doorway, the bright kitchen lights reflecting from behind him, before he finally began to grumble.
“Fine,” he said, stomping after me. But he knew me—even though we didn’t ever talk about it—and the next time he spoke, he was louder, voice easier to distinguish. “There’s not even a light switch,” he complained. “Is there one down there? Someone is going to fall and break their neck.”
“No one is going to break their neck,” I muttered, running my fingers over the soft, uneven wall to my left. “There’s no light switch. Do you have a flashlight?”
So early into my mission, and I was already unprepared.
But it wasn’t like I’d had notice.
He paused halfway down and complained under his breath once more. But I knew him, and despite our differences, that in a pinch, he’d find a way to come through. Sure enough, he began to pull at his coat, and a moment later, a small, warm glow erupted from the palm of his hand.
That was no flashlight.
“What do you have?” I asked, watching him as he joined me at the bottom of the staircase. Now that he was closer, I could make it out—a piece of paper, burning with soft orange flames. I frowned at it—at him—and at the way that he was clearly not burning to a crisp.
“You can control fire,” I pointed out. This was even more of a betrayal than anything. To think of all the times this power could have come in handy.
“That’s not what this is,” Finn protested. But even though the light wasn’t bright, the guilty movement of his Adam’s apple was clear. “Technically. We’ll talk about this later.”
Yes, we would. But that did answer my question about Damen’s elemental abilities.
“There’s an old magic down here,” Finn remarked, changingthe subject. “What do you think you’re going to find?” He held out his hand as he illuminated the space around us.
“I—” I stepped forward, careful not to touch anything. Not that it was difficult, because while the basement was massive, there was no end to the darkness outside of the half-stone, half-mud walls to our left. There was also a lack of items to contend with within the space. Small, unseen pebbles dug into the bottom of my bare feet, and the earth felt wet against my toes. Surrounding us, however, was nothing but an empty room.
Shouldn’t there at least be mold damage? But I didn’t smell it.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
There was nothing here. But if that were really the case, then why was my heart beating so frantically? I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten to this place, or even why, but the same drive pulled at me regardless.
“Run, hide,” the old woman’s voice rang through my head. “Don’t let yourself be eaten.”
My breath caught, and I turned. Eaten?
When had that become an option?
But no one was around besides the onmyoji who was once my best friend, and while he’d startled at my quick movements, it was only to look at me. “What’s wrong?” Finn asked, obviously unaware of the words floating through the room.
The kitchen lights at the top of the stairs looked so bright and inviting. In comparison, the darkness throughout the rest of the space made the hair on my arms stand straight. There was a resistance pushing against us, and every step was met with struggle.
But, in my heart, it didn’t feel right.
I was here for a reason. I couldn’t leave now.
“Summon your shikigami,” I told him.
“What?” Finn looked at me and scowled. “I told you, I can’t—“ As he moved, the path of the light shifted, and finally, thefurthest end of the rectangular room flashed into sight. I grabbed his forearm, interrupting his protest, and pulled him after me.
He still complained even as we walked.
“Where are we goingnow?” he asked, trying to sound ever-so-patient, but failing. “There’s nothing here.”
I ignored his feeble attempts to deter me. I was used to his constant pessimism. In most cases, he was a begrudging but willing participant in our adventures. He would get over it, and, in the end, we’d usually see eye-to-eye.
I pulled him to my side and held my hand out in front of us, trying to use the light. The vision that’d captured my attention swayed like ripples moving over once-still waters.
“Bianca?” Finn narrowed his eyes, finally noticing what I’d already seen. “What are you…” As he spoke, the silver mirage lifted, and, before another breath could pass, he was in front of me. “How did you do that?”
