Page 33 of Shannon in Sombra
I blink.
Sombra has butterflies?
Now, I haven’t lived in Sombra long. Only a couple of months since I gave birth, though I’ve had to make pretty frequent trips so that Azazel could check me out during the pregnancy. I’ve never once seen a butterfly. To be fair, the only animal I’ve seen is Kennedy’s pet squirrel-cat-looking shadow animal, Freya, and if I wasn’t shitting bricks over my missing baby, I’d marvel over witnessing Sombra’s version of a butterfly.
But then, over the roar of panic in my ears, it hits me what Damien said. Something aboutlead the way…
I clutch Mal’s arm. “Do we follow the butterfly?” Hope swells in my chest. This… this might work. Lucian saw it, right? So did Damien… thishasto work. “Will it lead us to Alana?”
The ridges over his brow scrunch together, water dripping slowly down his solid skin, beads of moisture welling in the smile creases above his upper lip. He’s not smiling now, though; concerned and confused, he narrows his golden eyes on the butterfly. “What is this creature?”
“One of the faripoz,” repeats Lucian. “And a sure sign that the spawn is in control of her own fate.”
CHAPTER14
IN THE SHADOWS
SHANNON
Idon’t know what the hell that’s supposed to mean. Honestly? It doesn’t matter. All it takes is one of the creepy psychic twins confirming that we’re supposed to follow the butterfly into the shadows before I’m dipping into the darkness.
Join me if you want. Lucian says we’re all supposed to go together? Sure. Let’s go.
Just like I figured, Mal is right behind me, hovering near me, though he’s instinctively shifted to his shadow form again to match my step without accidentally bumping into me or knocking me over. Sometimes I forget that my mate is more than seven feet tall, with the muscular bulk to match such a build. He’s always so careful with me, but the way we’re running blind into the pitch black shadows, if I fall under his foot, he could really hurt me.
It wouldn’t be on purpose. Mal loses his ever-loving mind if I so much as stub my toe in his presence. All the more reason for him to fade to his transparent shadow form so that he can keep up with my pace without the threat of his big body knocking into me.
I can’t tell if it’s easier for him to navigate just how fucking dark it is in here. It’s cooler, too, which is saying something when we live in a demon realm made of fire, lava, and ash. Cooler means it’s a balmy seventy instead of a dry ninety-five degrees Fahrenheit, but after getting used to the heat of Nuit, I shiver as the shadows envelope me.
There are bones beneath the ash under my feet. It’s dark, but I can kinda see where I’m going, and the bleached white femurs and who-knows-what-else poking through are definitely hard to miss. I mean, I thought the horned skulls were bad. Crunching on something I can’t exactly see… nope. This is worse. So much worse.
Only one moon rises high in the black sky, providing some light. Normally, I’d say that the reddish, shadow-filled world turns their main moon the same color. Now that I’ve seen what a blood-red moon looks like? It’s more a pale orange than anything our first few steps before it takes on the shadows. It’s still bright, still giving us enough light that I’m not completely blind, but the moon’s a foreboding dark color that’s outlined against the sky the same way those butterflies gleam against the shadows.
Mal’s shadowy hand ghosts over my arm, brushing against my sunflower tattoo. I jolt, his emotions—fear and worry and a determination to get our baby back—echoing mine as we touch. Our bond sings out as I assure Mal that I’m here, that we’re in this together, even with our friends joining in on the chase.
We left the drizzle outside of the shadows. That’s the one good thing about willingly entering the dark. As though the shadows themselves are a living, breathing thing, we’re consumed by them. A sliver of moonlight high over our heads is the only illumination we have. It’s enough to make out vague shapes; otherwise, all I can see are the glowing eyes that belong to the other Sombra demons.
Gold. Red. Purple. Green.
One of the purple-eyed demons does something. He shifts his body, and when he’s done, an orb about the size of a baseball is hovering over one of his palms. A faint white light emanates from the orb, providing enough of a glow that I recognize its holder as Loki.
Kennedy is holding tightly to his bicep. I’m sure he conjured the light so that his heavily freaking pregnant mate can see where she’s going, but I don’t give a shit. It helps the rest of us, too, and since we’re a (hopefully) lucky thirteen, I’ll take it.
The last thing I want is for one of my friends and their demon mates to find trouble in the shadows while helping me search for my daughter. Well, no… the last thing I want is to get lost in the dark and never see Alana again, but I’ll feel guilty as hell if anyone else gets hurt.
Loki is at home in the shadows; after all, he spent a hundred years inside of them as a demonic beast. Even Kennedy spent her first few months in Sombra in here because that’s where Loki brought her to his demon world with him. Of course, Kennedy’s also told me about the giant black shadow bear that nearly ate her so… I’d like to avoid one of those if we can.
And then there’s Billie. Before she arrived in Nuit with Glaine, the two of them journeyed from the capital in Mavro, halfway across Sombra until the creepy, psychic twins picked them up and basically gave them a ride closer to our village. Part of their trip took them into the shadows along the edge of Sombra where a different fully demonic Sombran decided he was going to take Billie away from her grumpy soldier mate.
Glaine wasn’t a big fan of the idea. That’s how I found out the guard I’ve loathed ever since he threatened Mal outside of Turn the Page carries an enchanted sword that can kill immortal demons.
Luckily for us, he’s on our side. If anything in these shadows targets Billie, they’ll be dead before we know it. Glaine already has his sword pulled out of the shadow pocket where he usually keeps it stored. I catch glimmers of it out of the corner of my eye whenever Loki’s orb glances off of it.
Another plus? The light does a good job warning some of the white-eyed shadow critters back. Dagon assures us that all of the white pinpricks peering out at us from the pitch-black darkness are prey beasts. The kind of slow, skittish shadow animals that make up all of the questionable meat that we eat in Sombra. I like to think they’re, like, shadow chicken and shadow beef, but considering one of the delicacies is ungez like Kennedy’s pet, Freya… I’d rather not see what I’m chowing down on as the ‘before’.
I already refuse to eat ungez out of solidarity with the adorable squirrel-cat. If I discover that bronwyll is a cute raccoon-beaver or something, I might go veggie after all…
The predators claim the territory deeper into the shadows. If the butterfly leads us that far, that’s something else to worry about. Part of me hopes that one of those arkoda-bear things finds that prick who thought he could take Alana. But when I realize that means my baby would be at the mercy of a mindless shadow beast, I don’t know what’s worse: being in the clutches of her abductor or a wild animal.
