O’Leary

Asher, don’t trust Cheddar.

Asher

Paranoid much?

Cheddar helped you save me.

O’Leary

Yeah, I don’t get it.

They work for Lady Wraith…

Asher

And you haven’t had a shitty boss?

We need friends, buddy.

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Terri

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Terri stood behind the counter of Shady Pawn, facing her shade as it obliviously added a roll of quarters to the cash register. It looked near identical to her in clothing, footwear, and hairstyle; that was intentional.

Terri hunted and scavenged clothing to match her shade’s wardrobe; matching wasn’t necessary for her magical art but made possessing her incorporeal counterpart easier — there was less for the Law of Observation to correct — she even chose how she did her hair based on what her shade chose. Beyond color, the only major difference between her and the shade was the scabbard strapped to Terri’s right hip and the sword, or nimcha, held in her left hand. Glyphs carved along the hilt and blade glowed a deep purple as she raised it to strike the shade.

Once cut, she would have only moments to reach through the surgical slice and take control. There was always a chance her shade would form faster than she worked her spell, but that was a risk Cutters took. Well, a risk she took; she was the last of the Cutters.

She wasn’t sure if going out to search for Asher was a good idea, but he should have found his way here by now. Miranda had already arrived after losing his tail and set off to scout around City Hospital in case he went looking for Susan, but Terri waited at Shady Pawn. A decision she now regretted.

Asher was capable. He could handle himself, but…. It was the many answers to the ‘but’ which slowly convinced Terri to strap her family’s sword to her hip and…. No, she was being foolish. She lowered her blade. He could be anywhere by now, or already cycled, and he would most likely go to her store or to the hospital. Plus, there had been no new info since he fled home.

Injured.

Fled home with no food… and injured.

Her brow creased as she raised the nimcha’s clipped point. “Logic be damned.” She widened her stance, squared off with her shade, and readied to strike. “I’m coming, Kiddo.” Terri said the words of the shade possession spell as each glyph lit up along the blade.

“Terri!” Asher's scream broke her concentration. It was coming from outside. The glyphs on the blade dimmed as her gaze shot to the storefront window. There! Three of them were coming around the corner. O’Leary led, holding something woven between his fingers; his hand slapped down, the twig snapped on his leg mid-stride — green light flashed. Terri’s eyes flicked closed as a rumble threatened to knock her legs out from under her. Steadied, her eyes blinked away the bright flash in time to see the door burst inwards as a conglomerate of concrete, soil, and rock slammed through it. Asher followed O’Leary past the repairing door, and… Cheddar was close behind.

O’Leary tripped on the earthen battering ram as they scrambled inside; his head jerked, nose bloody from the face-plant. “We tried to lose them, but there’s too many.” He spat, blood touching his lips.

“Eight crossroads, and there are still dozens of them.” Cheddar grabbed O’Leary under his right arm and helped pull him back to his feet. “They, they, they’re right behind us.”

“Aunt Terri?” Asher’s eyes were wide, the bottom rims puffed from tears. He cradled a furry gray form in one arm against his bare chest. His other dragged Hyrum’s old bat. “He’s almost gone.”

Terri’s mouth dropped open as she stared at the trio — words lost — it wasn’t like her to be stunned, but that’s exactly what she was. Nearly spent, O’Leary and Asher only had flecks of color and she could see the pursuing shades through the window, past her nephew’s trembling shoulders, a near-ended bunny in his arms. Some shades swirled between states in the intersection. A few regained their unbroken forms and wandered off, but many sought their quarry and were scanning the street in front of Shady Pawn — those were still on the hunt.

Crossroads, intersections of civilization or magic, caused a shade to forget what they were doing and revert to their unbroken role. Terri liked to compare it to forgetting what you were doing after walking through a doorway; like people and doorways, a shade could recover and remember what they were doing, but it often depended on how powerful they were. If they had moved through eight crossroads and there were still this many — not good. She would have to convince the hunters that their prey was gone. But first she needed to close her damn mouth. She swallowed. “Did any of them see you enter?”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“I, I, I, don’t think so,” said Cheddar as O’Leary pushed off them to stand on his own.

A few of the unbroken shades in the store sensed the group and wandered towards them. Shade Terri looked up and tsked as if something was out of sorts and turned from the register.

“Stay still. Stay quiet.” Terri turned back to her shade and said the spell one more time, the glyphs flared to life on the blade and hilt as she executed an upward vertical slice, drawing a razor thin line of purple from her shade’s hip to armpit before it stepped towards them.

“Terri?!” Asher sprinted for the counter as the sword made contact. Her loveable fool nephew thought he needed to save her, but if he touched her mid spell — not good.

“No!” O’Leary launched himself forward into a tackling dive, taking Asher to the ground before he could touch either caster or her target.

Asher twisted as he fell, the bat clattered to the side as the second arm pulled into secure Green close to his chest. His back slammed into the floor and the momentum drove his left shoulder into the rickety, currently unmovable, DVD rack. He gasped in pain, struggled, but O’Leary had a firm grip on his waist and no arms to push himself up. “Let me go. Terri!”

The sword slash froze the shade in place. Her heart felt like it was about to burst. “I’ll explain all, Kiddo.” She looked at Cheddar. “Keep them safe.” She knew by the way Cheddar shivered at the command; they understood it wasn’t a request. Then she dropped one hand from the blade’s hilt, twisted her hips, and thrust an open hand into the shade’s wound. It broke around her arm into an amorphous gray cloud and tried to assemble its hunter form.

“No!” Asher writhed on the ground. “Terri, it’ll eat you. Terri! Beast let me go, Beast!” O’Leary released Asher’s waist but crawled up before he recovered and wrapped him in a big-spoon-hug holding him steady at the shoulders, his arms helping support the already fragile form Asher held as his legs and bulk held his friend in place.

Cheddar slung their shadesack to the ground and started digging through it. They looked warily around at the approaching shades, “shhhh, you need to be quiet. Terri is a Cutter, she’s okay.” The backpack’s shade arms offering items they thought the Finder Keeper looked for. O’Leary whispered something Terri couldn’t hear to Asher, but the shouts turned to sobs as the unbroken shade-shoppers closed in. It was working, but not fast enough. No, that was for them to deal with; she couldn’t; the horde was getting closer. She watched the first shade streak by the window — they would be inside in moments. The magic infused wound anchored her shade, making it look less like a ball of mist and more like a flag of swirling gray. She blocked out the sound of Asher’s distress, ignored the instincts screaming at her to run to his side and tell him everything was going to be alright. The shade lashed out, trying to pull free. Focus!

She grit her teeth, sheathed her nimcha, and grabbed hold of the wound’s edge with her other hand. The wound was a portal into the shade’s mind, and it lashed at her, trying to break free with thoughts of failure, despair, and grief manifested to either pry her hand free, or pull her in before she was ready. To anyone watching, it was as if she battled an unseen wind trying to rip a flag of storm clouds from her grasp. Mouth, eyes, and limbs of a broken shade tried to form, but Terri forced them back into the mass with her will, she held the shades unbroken image, her image, in her mind and one wisp at a time hammered and molded the shade back into its unbroken form.

She took a step towards it; this reality wavered, and with a last glance beyond the counter, she watched Cheddar kneel, open, and gently feed a candy bar to a sobbing Asher. His sobs quieted as the food renewed him. She took another step, and they faded from sight. The Fink, Cheddar, was feeding them? Helping them? Using a shadesack in her store! Terri felt the spell slip. Shit. She growled and finished her casting with the force of a mental haymaker. Her physical form became weightless, and she gave into the pull of the reformed shade, merged with it, and claimed the driver’s seat. She was Grayside now, had fully crossed the threshold from the Belly, and would remain until she dismissed the spell or lost control. The Law of Observation smoothed out inconsistencies of her form, so the nimcha sat still sheathed on her hip. A few shoppers moved towards the DVDs, where she knew her, nephew laid. She felt a desire to move in their direction, break and feast on his energy, but she shook the thoughts away. “Family emergency. We’re closing early today. Sorry, but I need to lock up. Everyone out, quickly now.” Terri moved around the counter to the door and opened it for the shopping shades, urgently hustling them out with her hand.

She had a plan. It wasn’t a brilliant plan, but the broken use unbroken as a sign that everything is as designed. After all, how could their quarry be in the store if unbroken were leaving and one stood in the doorway going about its business? She hoped that after chasing prey through eight crossroads, the broken shades would be flustered enough to think less and keep to their instincts. That’s if the Fink isn’t helping them. She glanced over her shoulder. What game was Cheddar playing? They weren’t the most zealous of the bunch, but their love for Lady Wraith was absolute.

Terri couldn’t see broken shades while Grayside, but after a few minutes of standing in the doorway, she noticed an increased presence of unbroken shades on the street. It either worked or it didn’t; she wouldn’t know until she crossed from Grayside to the Belly, so she moved from the store's door, closed, and locked it before moving behind the counter. This part always sucked — she took in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and clenched her fists in concentration as she took a painful step back. A ripping sensation lanced through her body; her weight returned, and a bolt of lightning flashed in the darkness between worlds as she staggered back from her shade.

Her mind swam, but she forced her eyes to focus as she scanned her store.

Asher had to be okay. He had to be.