The Shadow Prince

“Bad things happen out there. Believe me, Daphne, I know.” More remorse wafts off my mother, and I know she’s thinking of her one excursion outside of Ellis Fields as a teenager—spring break, her senior year, with some high school friends. That trip was how my mom ended up with an ex she barely knew, and a baby she’d never planned on. Not to mention one of her best friends had run off to New York City with some guy, never to be heard from again.

 

“Some good things happen out there, too,” I say, and give her a look that says, “How else would you have gotten me?”

 

All the stiffness in my mother’s face melts away. Water fills her eyes and she grabs me in a close hug. “I know,” she says. “You are my everything. That’s why I don’t want to ever lose you.” Her grip on me tightens. “Please, my little sprout, stay here.”

 

I bite back the urge to tell her that I’ve changed my mind, that I am never going to leave, but I can’t fight the tears that roll from my eyes as I let my mother hold me like I was a little kid who’s fallen and skinned her knee.

 

“We now have thirteen minutes until we need to leave,” the glossy woman says.

 

I break away from my mother’s hug. Anguished notes fall off her like teardrops as she realizes that her pleading won’t keep me here.

 

“You know, you could always come with me,” I say. “Open up a new shop in California?”

 

She shakes her head, with a sad little smile. “Who would take care of all of Ellis’s strays?”

 

I’d known she’d never go for it, but I had to at least ask. “Okay, then, cross my heart and hope to die, I swear I will never run off with some random guy.” I make an X over my chest, and my mother laughs tearfully at my corny rhyme.

 

“Twelve minutes,” the woman says and takes me by the elbow again. I have no choice but to let her drag me out of the office.

 

We pass Jonathan, who gives me a sad frown, and CeCe, who acts as though she wants to try to stop me, but rethinks it when Glossy Woman throws her a look that could melt ice. Indie, ever oblivious, gives me an enthusiastic double thumbs-up.

 

The wall of heat outside the oasis of the shop’s AC hits me and I suddenly feel overwhelmed—not just by the prospect of packing up my life in such a hurry, but also by knowing that, in twelve short minutes, I have to figure out how to say good-bye to the only life I have ever known.

 

 

 

 

 

chapter five

 

 

HADEN

 

 

Morning has arrived by the time someone comes to fetch me. I’m not surprised that it is Brimstone who finds me in the screech owl roost in the tallest tower of the palace. I know she’s coming, because the owls become agitated, screeching and puffing out their feathers as she slinks into the room. She’s a tiny little thing, but a good deal bigger than the puff of fur she’d been when I rescued her from one of the owls’ clutches when she was only a few days old. As a runty newborn, she’d been tossed out of the nest by her mother, left to die in the Wastelands. That’s why I’d saved her—and that’s why she rarely left my side and could always find me no matter where I was—we’d both been rejected by the only family we’d ever really known. That made us kin.

 

Brim meows like she’s scolding me and hops onto my lap as I sit on the window ledge.

 

“I know,” I say, stroking my hand over her gray fur so she won’t get angry. “I should have told you where I was going.”

 

I slide one of my fingers over the silver bracelet she wears as a collar—trying not to think of the person it used to belong to. Brim huffs and then looks over at the door, as if waiting for someone. I know that if Brim has found me, Dax is only a few seconds behind. Not that either of them had to look that hard. Dax is the one who showed me this place, back when he was still an Underlord and everyone in my age group aspired to be just like him. It’s the one place in the Underrealm where one can see not only the royal stables and the pomegranate groves, but also the asphodel meadows, which stretch for miles beyond the palace. When I was younger, I used to sit up here, watching the owls fly in and out of the roost. I used to stand in the stone-framed window opening, stretching my arms out, and dreaming about taking flight. About being free.

 

But where would I have even gone?

 

There’s nothing beyond the meadows but the Wastelands. The place where the shades—the souls of the dead—wander, wailing their tormented cries, as they search for a way out of that final resting place of grief and shadow.

 

I may not come to the roost to fantasize about flying anymore, but it is still my favorite place to sit and think. I’d packed what few belongings I might need from my bedchamber for my quest, and then came here, where I’ve spent the entire night running through every lesson I’ve ever been taught about the Overrealm. History. Politics. Mythos. Fighting styles. Anything the Court might choose to test me on before sending me through the gate. All in an attempt to drown out the things Rowan said to me.

 

And I know it’s not enough.

 

“It’s time,” Dax says solemnly as he comes to stand in the doorway.

 

“I’m not ready,” I say.

 

“Everyone is waiting for you.”

 

“I can’t go through the gate. Not yet. I need more time. I need more training.”

 

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