Page 24 of Sun, Moon & Shadow

Twelve

Two hours later, Nova stood drenched with sweat, her arms unbearably heavy. Callan had kept her busy, first with learning different grips, then switching between grips, followed by practicing strikes on a sandbag strung up on a post at chest level. She’d nicked herself a couple times, but the shallow cuts on her knuckles would heal quickly.

Nova dropped onto the ground and leaned back on her hands, enjoying the cool breeze as it ruffled her damp shirt. Callan crouched beside her. Out the corner of her eye, she spied an iridescent glimmer flickering against the open sky over the field.

“What is that?” she asked, pointing to the phantom waves bobbing along the expanse of blue just as they disappeared from view.

“The shield,” he replied matter-of-factly. Evidently reading the confusion written on her face, he shook his head. “Forgive me. I forgot you’re newly arrived here. It’s a guard of protective magic that defends the entire Estate from outside magic and attacks. Every Estate has one.”

He tugged at a clump of yellowing grass, pulling the blades out at the root as he stared off into the sky, his dark brows drawn together.

“Where do they come from?”

“The rulers of each territory weave the shields around their Estates. The Noble bloodlines are powerful enough to cover large areas, though it requires considerable effort.”

“How long have the Nobles been maintaining the shields?”

“Centuries.”

“That’s unbelievable,” she said. “Why?”

“The Realm hasn’t seen open war for more than a millennium. But the shields were raised as a defense against Omen of Raven’s Isle. The Shadowbringer.”

“Omen of Raven’s Isle?”

Callan lowered himself to sit on the ground beside her, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his bent knees.

“Do you enjoy faerie stories?” he asked. Nova nodded. “Then I’ll tell you one, though I should warn you, this one is rather grim.”

Callan shifted his gaze back to the cloudless sky.

“Omen was the middle son of Onyx of Silvergard, a Noble Lord known throughout the Realm for his cruelty. Omen was born with hair and eyes of silver. Those are rare features among the Fae of the Lunar Court, signifying great power. For this reason, folk said Onyx feared his son.”

A chill crept like an icy fingertip along Nova’s spine.

“He sent Omen away to Sonnend, where he served as an aide in the Court of Siris and Sienna. During his time there, it was rumored that Omen was taken with one of the courtiers and wished to wed. But his father soon announced the arranged union of the female and Omen’s older brother, Sable, instead. On the day of the ceremony, Omen attempted to overthrow Silvergard in retaliation, murdering both his father and his older brother before vanishing.

“Not long after, a quake shook the ground of Silvergard. The northern peninsula of the territory broke away from the mainland, forming the island territory now known as Raven’s Isle. For more than a century afterward, the other territories of Aemoria faced attacks by lycane and other dark creatures orchestrated by Omen. Sometimes entire villages would vanish, the residents disappearing without a trace.”

“Why is he called the Shadowbringer?”

“Because his darkness consumes everything, leaving nothing but death and desolation in his wake.”

Callan paused, seemingly lost in thought as he stared up at the shield, completely invisible for the moment.

“And so,” he continued, “the Nobles concentrated their power, creating strongholds in the capital of each territory to protect as many citizens as possible behind the shields.”

Callan tossed away the withered grass he’d been twisting in his hands. Nova swallowed hard, her throat suddenly bone-dry. She wanted to know more.

“The shields prevent anything dangerous from getting through, then?”

Callan shifted on the ground, squaring his shoulders as he glanced at the high stone walls surrounding the Estate. “In theory. Think of the shield as a bolt on a door. If someone with great power wished to get through, it wouldn’t necessarily prevent them from slipping through the keyhole. I worry the Nobles have grown lax in their practices over the past several decades as Omen’s attacks have dwindled.”

Nova recalled the creeping black mist in her chamber and wondered whether she had only dreamt it, or if perhaps it had truly been in the room with her.

“How are you feeling?” Callan asked, startling Nova from her thoughts.

“Honestly?” She exhaled sharply. “Like a failure.”