The Dark Shadow of Spring (13 page)

Alex didn’t eat much for dinner and his mother noticed his appetite as his father noted his lack of conversation. Alex explained it away as preoccupation with thoughts about an essay for homework. But he didn’t do his homework that night. Instead he sat on his bed thinking about how to get the books he needed from the library and wondering what he would do if he finally managed to gain entrance to the restricted room, only to find that the town library didn’t possess copies of either tome.

That was how he fell asleep, lying fully clothed on the comforter. Something felt odd to him, though. Like he was sleeping, but not sleeping. Like something was tugging at him in some strange way. He opened his eyes, expecting to be staring at the ceiling, only to find himself looking down at his own body stretched out on the bed. He was somehow hovering above his own body. His physical body, at least. In shock, he looked down where his body should have been to see a ghostly blue outline of his torso and arms. Floating above the bed, above his body, Alex suddenly realized what was happening.

He was not dreaming. He was in his astral body.

Chapter 11: Accidental Astral Traveler

Astral travel — the ability for the soul to slip from the bonds that normally held it fast to the human body and move at will in the world — was a rare and fabled magical ability known to be performed only by experienced Spirit Mages. Or so Alex had always been told. But there he was, floating above his own body.

He knew that he should have been terrified, but he felt oddly calm. His soul-essence, his consciousness, his essential being, was untethered from his physical body, asleep on the bed beneath where he seemed to hover. It occurred to him that this might be a dream. But it did not feel like any dream he had ever had. It also occurred to him that he did not need to remain where he was, that he could go anywhere.

Alex focused his mind the way he did to control magical energy and willed himself to move away from the bed and toward the bedroom door. Slowly, Alex’s perspective shifted, moving closer to the door of his room. When he reached the door, he willed himself to spin again, looking back at the body on the bed that belonged to his now-free soul. He looked at the mirror beside the bed and saw nothing. No reflection. He could still see a pale blue ghostly outline of his arms and body, but nothing of that reflected in the mirror. Not only could he go anywhere, he could go anywhere unseen.

He focused and floated through the door of the room. He knew intuitively that he could not affect anything in the real world while in this astral state. He passed through the door, sensing its density, but feeling nothing, and moved into the hallway. He drifted down the dark hall, moonlight falling softly through an upstairs window, and slid through the door of his parent’s room. He watched them for a moment from near the ceiling, the two sleeping forms huddled beneath a large quilt.

Willing himself to move again, he passed through the bedroom wall and into his sister’s room. She, too, was fast asleep. A sudden fear flitted through him that maybe he would not be able to wake up and would be trapped like this forever, but he pushed the thought away and willed himself upward, through the ceiling, the attic, the roof, and out into the night, floating above the house.

From the vantage point above his house, Alex looked around the sleeping town. The moon was only a quarter full and the light it provided was dim and insubstantial, but he could make out the town clearly. The houses along Magnolia Street, the church and the cemetery, the town center, even the school across town. And the library. Seeing the library, he knew that he was grinning even if he had no body to accomplish it with.

Alex willed his astral body toward the town library, focusing on it with all his concentration and was surprised to find that he did not fly through the night air above the town, but was instead suddenly present at the entrance arch of the library, suspended before the door. That was interesting, he thought. He could not only move through spaces, but could travel directly to them. His non-existent grin widened.

He passed through the door of the library as easily as he had the others and continued through the main entrance, floating over Mrs. Yaaba’s desk and through the wall of the restricted room. This was what he had waited for since he had learned of the existence of the restricted room; all the time he wanted to peruse the books that were hidden from most of the town.

Instinctively, he grasped his ephemeral hand at a large tome on the round maple table in the center of the room, but the pale outline of his fingers slipped right through the cover and the pages. He suppressed the frustration that arose. He had known as much. He could look at the titles of the books on the walls around the small windowless room, but he could not open them. In truth, there was barely enough errant light coming through the glass air vent above the door for him to see the titles of the books. He tried casting a spell of air and motion, but was rewarded with only the faintest shudder of the book’s cover. Either spells did not work the same way while in astral form, or he was not a strong enough mage to ply them.

He had no eyes to strain in the dim light, but he examined each title along every shelf, looking for the two books he hoped to find. He slid past books with titles like
Dark Runes of the World
,
Fallen Mages of the Middle Ages
, and
Banshee Blight: A Survivor’s Tale
. It was hard to tell how time passed in this astral state, but it felt like nearly an hour before he found
A History of the War of the Dark Age
on the top shelf of the bookcase opposite the door. He noted its location and continued to scan the rest of books. It took what he thought might have been another half an hour, but he finally finished searching all the shelves. There was no sign of
Radiant Spirit: Ka’Neff Magic Uncovered
. He was more disappointed than he would have been before he knew he could astral travel. Clearly he had the makings of a Spirit Mage. The book might have answered a great many questions he was certain would arise now that he knew the nature of his magical talents.
Like how to get your astral soul body back into your real body
. He ignored that thought and slipped through the back wall of the restricted room and out into the small yard behind the library.

Rising above the tops of the buildings, Alex again marveled at the vantage point of the town he beheld. As he slowly rotated, he noticed something a few blocks away. Something moving in the shadows. No, the shadows themselves were moving, flowing down a side street like an undulating black wave. The shadowy wave headed for Raven Street. Victoria’s house was on Raven Street.

Alex willed himself to Raven Street and was suddenly there. Scanning the street in every direction, he saw no sign of the living shadow that had so frightened him. The shadows of the street, cast by moonlight and streetlamps, seemed perfectly innocuous. He recognized the house before him. It was Mr. Fallowtooth’s home. He looked up the block at Victoria’s house. It was the first time he had seen it since her family had moved in. He wondered which room was hers.

Unexpectedly, he sensed something beside him and looked to see an old woman in a long white gown standing ten feet away. She glowed in the same insubstantial way that his own astral body did, floating a few inches from the ground. Her face was all sharp angles, softened by deep wrinkles. A long mane of pale gray hair fell across her shoulders. Her eyes were a deep blue-gray and Alex found it impossible to look away from them.

Alex recognized her. His father had taken him on a trip to the White Forest once to see her. His father had gone inside her hut while Alex had waited outside, but he had caught a glimpse of her through the doorway. She was Old Batami, the Soothsayer. There had always been rumors in town that she was a Spirit Mage. Obviously those rumors were true, for she was in her astral body as clearly as Alex was. He noticed a small glowing orb within her chest where her heart was. It was just visible through the translucent folds of the long shimmering dress she wore.

“You will come to see me, Boy,”
Old Batami said, her lips not moving, but her voice ringing in Alex’s mind.

“You are a Spirit Mage,”
Alex thought back at her.

“As are you,”
Batami said.
“And there is much for you to learn. There are many dangers, especially when you travel like this.”

“Will you teach me?
” Alex asked, feeling excitement flow through him like electricity.

“I will show you what I can with what time you have,”
Batami said, moving slowly closer to him.

“What do you mean?”
Alex asked.
“I have all the time in the world.”

“No,”
Batami said. Alex could see the sadness in her face.
“You are marked.”

“The Shadow Wraith,”
Alex said, the fear feeling just as real in his astral body as it did in his physical form.

“Yes,”
Batami said.
“Your affinity for Sprit Magic will offer you a slim protection for a short time, but eventually…”

“We have to destroy it,”
Alex said.
“You have to help.”

“I don’t know that it can be destroyed,”
Batami said.
“Greater mages than I were only able to banish it. Besides, it has marked you. There is a reason for that. And I am confined in ways that make my service to you limited. I cannot leave the White Forest except to travel in this way. And we are vulnerable in our astral bodies.”

Alex was about to ask her how they were vulnerable when he sensed another presence on the street. A presence he had felt before. Back in the cave. He looked and saw a black wave of shadow flowing out of a dark alley and roiling down the street like thick boiling oil poured from a cauldron.

“We must flee!”
Batami shouted in his mind, her right hand flashing out toward him, palm open. A burst of blue-white light erupted in his mind and he found himself sitting up in bed, gasping for air and gripping the down comforter with his balled-up fists.

He was back in his body. Back in his room.

Batami!

Alex leapt from the bed and ran to the window, throwing open the sash and sticking his head out in to the cool, April night air. He strained his ears to listen, but could hear nothing but the normal sounds of the town at night. A few hardy crickets, tree branches clacking against each other, and the gentle lap of the Azure River against the docks in the distance. The cry of a bird cut through the night air, but that was not entirely unusual.

She must be alright
, he thought to himself as he closed the window and sat back down on the edge of the bed. She was an old and experienced Spirit Mage. She would know how to take care of herself. But what did she mean that she was confined to the White Forest? And what about Mr. Fallowtooth? Was he the target of the shadow creature in the street? Was that the Shadow Wraith? It had felt similar to what he had sensed in the cave, but not nearly as powerful. More like a small finger of a powerful hand reaching forth from a mighty arm. Was Mr. Fallowtooth safe? Should he wake his father? Would his father believe him? Would anyone believe him?  And Victoria. Was she alright?

Alex fell back on the bed, struggling to stay awake, to remain conscious, and to keep his thoughts straight. He was so tired. So very tired. He realized, vaguely, that he had not yet slept this night. Maybe astral travel was not like being normally awake. Maybe it drained the body to be separated from its soul-essence for so long. It had been a long time, it seemed. But he should warn someone. Warn them about…About? What had he been thinking? Warn who?  So…Sleep…

Alex awoke to his body juddering.

Blinking his eyes open, he realized that his father was leaning over the bed, shaking his shoulder.

“Wake up, Alex,” his father said, his voice filled with a hard concern.

Alex shoved himself up on his shoulder and looked up his father. “What?” he said, rubbing the sleep seeds from his eyes.

“I’ve been trying to wake you for nearly a minute,” his father said. “You had me worried.”

“Just tired,” Alex said. “Didn’t sleep well.”

“I’m not surprised,” his father said. “In your clothes and only half on the bed.”

Alex looked down to see that his father was right. He was still in his clothes, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed. “Guess I passed out.”

“Well, take a shower and get changed quickly,” his father said, giving him a quick kiss on the head. Alex shrugged off the kiss. For a man so usually gruff, his father was oddly affectionate in some ways, which Alex had deeply appreciated until he’d turned twelve and started thinking himself too old for such displays of affection. His father ignored him and went to the window. “I wasn’t just worried because you were hard to wake. Something’s happened in the town.”

“What?” Alex said, standing up, fully awakened by the tone of his father’s voice and the look on his face as he stared out the window.

“Come see for yourself,” his father said.

Alex stepped up to the windowpane and looked out. His window overlooked Marigold Street from the front of the house and he could see up and down the block several hundred feet. Something was strewn along the street, like hundreds of small black rocks. Alex stared at them, taking a moment to realize what they were. He gasped aloud when he understood what he was seeing.

The street was littered with dead birds.

Chapter 12: Dinner Plans

The talk at school was all about the dead birds, even though most had been cleaned up by townspeople before the school bell rang. What could kill so many birds all at once? Was it some kind of creature? Had they been poisoned? What did it mean? Who was responsible? Was it a sign of something?

Alex knew exactly what it was a sign of, but he didn’t say. He had been on the verge of telling his father everything, about the astral travel, about meeting Batami, about the living shadow, but he had held back. Nina was right; if their father even suspected that he was marked by the Shadow Wraith, as Batami had said he was, as the dragon, Gall’Adon’s destiny seemed to imply, Alex would find himself locked up for his own protection until he was old enough to need a walking cane. No, the Shadow Wraith had marked him for a reason, and he would have to find a way to deal with it. First, he would need to deal with the rumors.