Moonshadow (Moonshadow #1)

“I’ll tell you after I’ve gone all the way around.”

They strode the circuit around the massive house in silence. For the first time since she had arrived, she caught a glimpse of the small lake behind the house. Nikolas remained watchful, his expression grim. It must still be difficult for him to be in the place of such a painful defeat. He had lost friends and comrades here. She couldn’t imagine how that must feel, actually, and since she couldn’t find the right words to say in sympathy, she left him to his own thoughts.

When they finally stood in the same spot in front of the house again, she said, “How many did you see?”

“Still five,” he told her. “What about you?”

“On this side of the house, I can see seven. But there’s an eighth gable tucked around the back.”

“I want to say that’s impossible, but mostly I think it’s inexplicable,” Nikolas muttered. “How do you see more gables than I do?”

She held up her hands and gestured around her. “I think it’s the land itself. The crossover passageway is broken, but all the pieces of that magic are still here. Kathryn, the surviving member of the Shaw family, said that when her father was young, he was able to get into the house, but that was quite some time ago. She didn’t say exactly when, but she indicated it had been hundreds of years ago.”

“They’re not human,” he said.

“No, they’re Wyr. From the story she told me, I gather her ancestor fought for the Light Court. The last time her father tried to get into the house, the key turned in the lock but the door wouldn’t open. Nobody can break a window, she said, or make the door budge.” She turned sparkling eyes to Nikolas, who was listening to her with close attention. “I think it’s because the house isn’t fully here. It’s mostly here, but it’s slightly—ever so slightly—not in sync with this Earth where we stand.”

He frowned. “But we can see and touch it.”

“You can see some of it and touch some of it. I can see more of it.” She put her two fists together, side by side and aligned the knuckles of each finger to their opposite. “Think of tectonic plates, and then the earth moves. Maybe it’s a massive earthquake, or maybe it’s just a small shift.” She moved one fist slightly. “Then all of a sudden, the two plates don’t match up the way they had before and the land isn’t quite aligned as it was. I’m wondering if this is something like that, only more so. This isn’t just a place shift. This is a time, place, and dimension shift.”

He was wholly engaged now, listening closely to every word. He jerked his chin at the house. “Do you think you can see more of it because you’re part Djinn?”

“Yeah, maybe. If I’m right.” Looking back at the house, she chewed on a thumbnail. “Kathryn said the family had gotten experts to try to get into the house, but she didn’t say who those experts were or what they were experts in. It had all happened so long ago, and nobody had kept decent records of what they had done. I’m guessing they didn’t engage a Djinn as one of their experts. Why obligate yourself in an unnamed, possibly dangerous favor to a Djinn for something that was, to them, merely an exasperating mystery?”

“And why would they consider a Djinn for the job anyway?” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “They could see and touch the house, just as we can.”

She nodded. “Exactly. But I noticed the anomaly in the photos Kathryn showed me. The camera had captured something of the magic in this place. I’ve been thinking about it ever since, and I’ve been dying to see it in person.”

His dark eyes studied her. “And you still think you might be able to get into the house.”

“Maybe. I’m not a full Djinn. I can’t dematerialize—not fully—and whisk off to the other side of the world within a few moments, but I do have a certain affinity for manipulating my placement in time and space.”

“You can’t dematerialize fully,” he repeated. Fascination gleamed in his eyes. “Are you saying you can dematerialize partially?”

“No, not that.” She paused, frustrated with the limitations of language. “I can slightly shift things around me. Or a better way to say it is, I can shift myself in relation to everything else around me. Slightly. Not enough to really dematerialize, but enough sometimes to go unnoticed when I want to.”

“Is that how you hid with Robin from Gawain?”

“Yes. In my mind, I say that I pulled shadows around me, but really what I’m doing is stepping into shadows that existed at some time in that specific place. It’s—it’s like turning a corner. I know that sounds kind of mind-bendy, but believe me, it’s nothing like listening to full Djinn carry on a conversation. They literally don’t experience reality the same way we do.”

He shifted his weight onto one hip and gestured to her. It was as princely a gesture as she’d ever seen him make. “Show me.”

She scowled. “I’m not a trick pony to perform on your command.”

“No, a trick pony doesn’t know how to talk back like you do.” The exasperation was heavy in his voice.

What on earth did he have to be exasperated about? It was enough to make her exasperated with him.

She rolled her eyes. “Besides, it doesn’t work very well out in the open, in full sunlight. You know I’m standing here, and you’d be watching for it, so I wouldn’t be able to fool you. So getting back to what is actually relevant, what if the house is ever so slightly out of alignment with this Earth? And what if I could shift slightly enough to align with it, open the door, and get inside? If I’m right, a full Djinn could do it, but again, who wants to owe an unnamed, possibly dangerous favor to a Djinn? I certainly don’t want to ask one, and I don’t want to suggest it to Kathryn, because if I can do it, I win the land and the annuity.”

“If you’re right, the house is dangerous and probably unstable,” he pointed out. He turned to study it again. “According to the story Kathryn Shaw told you, it shifted even further while her father was alive. Parts of it must exist in different broken pieces of land magic.”

“Kathryn called it a Rubik’s cube, but all the colors don’t line up. It might be more like a jigsaw puzzle, with pieces sitting on different planes. All the pieces together make up a full house, but the separate pieces themselves exist in different time-space-dimensional realities.” She shrugged. “As far as it being unstable goes—it hasn’t gone anywhere for several hundred years, so I’ll take my chances. I mean, who knows what’s still inside there? There could be anything. The family didn’t keep records of what they had left behind.”

“You said nobody could break a window when they tried,” he said slowly. There was something dawning in his expression, an extra alertness or a comprehension.

“That’s what Kathryn told me. Apparently, the house as it stands right now is pretty impregnable.” It was her turn to watch him closely. What was he thinking?

He said, “Okay if I give it a try?”





Chapter Ten