Dream by the Shadows (Shadow Weaver Duology Book 1)

My back was freezing. Still, I clenched my eyes shut. The day could wait.

Yes, it can wait.

But a wind, damp and bitter, wound its way into my flimsy dress, demanding otherwise. I grabbed a bit of my dress, tucking it around my exposed feet, and settled miserably against the pillows behind me. No, not pillows.

A wall .

My eyes flew open.

I wasn’t in my room. No, I was leaning against a very familiar castle .

Ornate carvings were on the castle doors this time, though they were nothing more than blurry shadows before: flowers spiraled into delicate willow tree branches, a young boy rode a cloud shaped like a chariot, and king and queen held court with a sophisticated, beautiful grouping of nobles.

But the more I looked, the more I didn’t want to see.

The carvings shifted, transforming into violent, terrible things. The flowers began to burn, shadows bubbled from beneath the willow branches, and the figures’ smiles twisted into gaping screams. The boy’s cloud spun into a surging tempest of shadow, eating him alive.

I cried out in surprise, wheeling back from the carvings, but I had nowhere to go: a familiar mud-covered creature with a tattered cape was lurching toward me from the castle’s courtyard, trapping me.

“You can see—you can see! ” the figure cried. “Horror, beauty, dreams, life. Oh, but what will you do now? ”

Shadows fell from the grooves in the carvings, forming into grotesque monsters. They rippled on the surface of the iron doors, moving so quickly that it was difficult to distinguish one from the other. Hooked claws, serrated horns, lips peeled back into malicious grins—I could feel their hatred as they poured out. Hundreds of eyes glared at me, seething with malice. It didn’t look like they had the power to break free, undulating against the door as they were, but I didn’t want to find out, either.

The mud-covered figure was moving quicker now, stumbling every few paces with his uneven gait.

“Stay away from me!” I screamed, edging closer to the monster-infested castle doors.

“Must you stare with such disgust?” The demon held out its arms, inspecting the grey, wrinkled flesh. “These bodies aren’t our own.”

I glared at the figure in return.

“You’re making me self-conscious, looking at me like that. ”

“Then leave me alone,” I hissed. I couldn’t believe it. I was conversing with a demon—and a deranged one at that.

“My mortal body died during—what do you call it?” It paused, looking at me. I didn’t respond, so it continued. “Forgive me. It’s been some time since I walked the true earth or exchanged words with a human still within it. Does your kind acknowledge you by a name? ”

“You will not trick me, demon. I’ve heard many tales of your deception.”

“Well, if you wish to be ignorant, so be it. ” It tossed the cloth that trailed from its shoulders and bent at the waist, mimicking an aristocratic bow. It stood again, a smile upon its cracked lips. The light of the moon, looming over the castle’s many spires, glowed in its eyes. “Best find haven within the castle walls, or I will devour you. ”

Then it started walking, steadily closing the gap between us.

I turned to the castle doors. The images were disturbing—this was very true—and yet something called to me from within.

It was as though someone—or something —was tugging on a single, invisible thread fixed tightly around my ribcage and needed me to go beyond the doors of shadows and monsters. The call didn’t feel evil, exactly, but it reeked of hatred and despair. It felt familiar, somehow. I stretched my hand out, tentative, prepared to have it violently ripped off by the monstrous carvings. But as soon as I reached their snapping jaws, the creatures slid away, leaving just enough room on the metal for two carved handles inlaid with onyx stones.

Behind me, the demon shuffled onward, nearly to the base of the castle stairs.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. If the entrance was locked, I would turn and face the demon. But if I could somehow pry the doors open, I’d lock myself inside. Much to my relief, as soon as my fingertips grazed the handles, the doors swung inward, sliding slowly against a marble floor. The creatures on the doors stilled, shifting their eyes to the abysmal darkness that coaxed from within.

So, not a parlor filled with chandeliers and teacakes, but a gaping maw of oblivion.

Fantastic.

I didn’t have time to deliberate my choice. The demon was climbing the stairs, so I hurried into the castle, flinching as the doors crashed shut behind me.

It sounded like the toll of a death bell.

I pulled at my sleeves, stretching the cloth as far as it would go around my wrists. I squinted through the black, hastily trying to make out a light, a shape—anything .

“Hello?” I ventured softly. Had I been wrong? Was there no one here, not a single soul living in this shadowed place? Surely someone would come out and—

Something snarled in the distance; the noise hovered in the musty air, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.

I spun around, meaning to race toward the entrance and face the limping demon instead, but there was a significant problem: the doors were gone. I lunged blindly in the general direction of where the doors should be, but found only more space, more open air.

Damn the stars, I was not about to become demon fodder.

Inching forward, I finally ran into something solid—a corner. Not a door, but something, at least. I slumped against the stone, legs threatening to give out, but the growl rang out again, low and guttural. Unhurried, even.

As if it knew I couldn’t escape.

I shivered as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. The vestibule was cavernous, adorned with dark, opulent furniture and sprawling, gold-framed paintings and mirrors. And the colors—the colors within the space, slowly emerging, were unlike any I’d seen before in Norhavellis: indigo like the sweeping night sky, emerald like a forest floor at dusk, burgundy like a bruised plum left to settle in red wine.

I clenched my teeth, attempting to muster some courage. I needed to fight. Whatever came—I had to fight. If I didn’t resist the demons intent on Corrupting me, I’d be just like Mother and Father, hollow and forced clean underneath layers of cloudy water.

And Elliot would be left alone in a world that preferred him rotting in an unmarked grave.

But the vestibule, even with its sumptuous décor, was more like a moonlit cavern than a castle, and as I searched for a weapon—preferably something extra sharp for whatever it was that wished to devour me—I found nothing of use.

Apparently, the lord of this miserable castle never thought it useful to invest in a weapon rack.

I was deliberating over a small table, wondering if I could use it as a shield, when a sudden wind ignited a series of hidden candelabras set deep into the walls. As they burst alive, their ghostly flames appeared in every gilded mirror, casting the paintings in an uncanny glow. Light filled the space, toward where it grazed—but didn’t quite reach—a haze of darkness atop a staircase cut in the center of the room. The stairs towered higher than the vestibule’s massive ceiling, winding away into the upper floors.

It was there, from within that cloud of shadow, that something began to descend.

He was the most striking—and terrifying—creature I had ever seen.

The young man was beautiful, if beauty was a thing of darkness, hard edges and hollow lines that were stained and cruel. Cloaked in black armor that clung to his body like a second skin, he moved as if he were a shadow or a ghost. His cape trailed behind him, mist-like, and across his brow was a crown of onyx, twisting through a halo of moon-white hair.

“You aren’t of the demons or the darkness,” he said to me, his low voice dripping with contempt. “Perhaps I should consider you a gift sent by the Weavers for me to kill.”

Undulating shadows sparked from his clawed gauntlets, attacking as a current of snakes and forcing me to my knees. I thrashed against the snakes’ constricting bodies and bit my tongue, focusing on the pain.

“Wake up,” I hissed at myself, biting harder. “Wake up —” I flinched, tasting blood.

Blood?

No one had taught me that a dreamer could bleed.

“Masking your abilities is pointless. I’ll draw them out one way or another,” the man said, each word vibrating richly through the chamber. He continued gliding down the stairs, leading with pointed, armored boots. “Come, let me see your power. Show me which of the Seven commands you.”

“I have no abilities. I have no power .” His words felt deliciously irrational. What abilities? What power ? The ability to knit the seams of Elliot’s shirts back together? The ability to tremble in the face of danger? “Let me go .”

He was nearly to the bottom of the staircase now, scowling at me. The snakes around me tightened, constricting my lungs with their shrinking bodies. “Don’t treat me like a fool,” he warned, his voice firm and unyielding. “Lies and mockery won’t serve you here.”

“I’m not lying . You’re mistaking me for someone else.” It was getting difficult to breathe, let alone form words. I withered under his stare but did not look away, searching for courage I did not feel. “Whoever you’re seeking isn’t here. I am no one .”

The nameless man tilted his head, looking vaguely thoughtful. “No one? That’s doubtful. Are you their servant, or perhaps a scholar they’ve cast aside?” he sneered, eyeing my clothes with disdain. “Your dress is in a deplorable state.”

“Coming from the man wearing feathers,” I snapped, some of my fear twisting into irritation. “In comparison, I’d say I’m dressed quite practically.”

His silver eyes narrowed. “They aren’t feathers. They’re scales .”

As he circled his shadows, the metal scales atop his shoulders, indeed carved to look a bit like feathers, gleamed. They cascaded down his back, settling atop the thick material of his cape, and jointed talons, made of the same carved metal, encased each of his fingers. When he was close enough to touch, the man tightened his hands. The snakes obeyed, squeezing my chest and binding my arms.

“I can’t breathe,” I gasped. The shadows loosened slightly, allowing me to fill my lungs. “Your land and this—this castle —appeared to me in a dream. A dream .”

His eyes, resembling shadowy pools of silver, grew darker. They danced between silver and grey, it seemed. “Then leave. Wake up, if you can.”

“Gladly,” I hissed, taking another small scrap of air. “I want nothing to do with you or this miserable place.”

“Truly?” With a half-smile that sent shivers down my spine, he whispered, “Then I think I’ll keep you here with me.”

I gritted my teeth, thrashing against the snakes. “Absolutely not.”

“It is the price a trespasser must pay. The darkness will become you, just as it has done with me. It will consume you, drain you of your light, and leave you cold and empty.” He held his mouth over my ear, smiling cruelly. The desire to bite him hard and make him bleed was overwhelming. “But let’s make a deal, since I’m feeling charitable.”

“This is you feeling charitable ?” I muttered.

“To earn your freedom,” he continued, not hearing me, “simply open the door to my castle and let me free.”

“Open it and free yourself,” I snapped. I really, really wanted to bite him. “Let me go, demon .”

His smile dropped. “I’m no demon.”

“Of course you’re a demon. Your powers are monstrous, and you want to kill me for some reason—”

“You’re all the same,” he snarled. “You just see me as a monster unworthy of living. A monster who isn’t any different from the beasts that roam these halls.”

“Are you any different, though?” I countered, meeting his hate-filled stare with one of my own. His clawed hand felt cold, biting into my neck and making me forget the snakes at my ribs. “You’re everything we’re taught to hate and fear. You are no different .”

The great hall, save for the flickering candlelight and my erratic breathing, went completely still. A thread tugged at my ribcage, calling me back into consciousness.

Strangely, I didn’t want to follow it.

I wasn’t ready to face what awaited me at the other end of that thread. I didn’t want to see my mother and father, even if they no longer carried souls, forced away by the Light Legion. I didn’t want to see my brother shattered and without humor or happiness.

I was a coward. I’ve never been strong. Not like Elliot thought I was.

But the thread insisted, pulling at my mind with sharp claws. I couldn’t think, couldn’t move. The pain clawed, burned, demanded , muffling the man’s voice and dimming his features.

I don’t understand—help me understand—

Then the shadows exploded, bursting outward in a blaze of light.