Shadow Reign (Shadow Puppeteer, Book 2)

By Christina E. Rundle

Belen McKnight dreamed of the day she’d be off Ardent Island, but that didn’t entail waking up in a much icier climate. The weather suits her about as much as the harpy Reincarta leader, Kelaino, who claims to be her mother.

Kelaino is sure Belen is the reincarnation of the Goddess, Hecate, and forces her to go to the Tomb of the God’s to get Pandora’s Box. By doing so, she wakes Khaos, a Goddess that could hinder more than help.

Now she needs to stay ahead of the werewolves, find a place to hide Pandora’s Box, fight her mom, World Congress and save Rex before it’s too late.

Book 2 of the Shadow Puppeteer Series

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christina E. Rundle
• Release date: May 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781939631046

Christina E. Rundle

Christina E. Rundle is a fan of literature, zombie media and gumballs. She currently lives in Florida with her husband and two jungle babies, Darwin and Hitchens, who absolutely hate pens, which makes writing difficult. She has her BA in English, but finds herself mixed up in the very physical field of Marine Conservation. If she could convince her husband on more pets, she’d like to add an opossum, a vulture and a bat to her family.Her first novelette Growing Season can be found in the anthology Opus 5.

Book preview

Shadow Reign

Christina E. Rundle

April 2013

Copyright © 2013 by Christina E. Rundle

License Notes

All rights reserved: no part of this book may be reproduced without written permission from author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Visit the website of Christina E. Rundle at

Website: www.cerundle.com

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, places, incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be mistaken as real. Any similarities to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover art provided by maeidesign.com

Photographer: Mike Thomassen

Cover model: Maria Amanda Schaub

ISBN: 978-1-939631-04-6

Smashwords Edition

CONTENTS

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

ONE

Amber’s words echoed in my skull.

She’s so bloody.

She’s not breathing. There’s no pulse.

Amber’s wrong. I’m not dead. A dead girl wouldn’t feel this miserable. I felt as solid as the icicles that clung to the trees. My face, fingers and toes were numb. It would take more than a hot shower to defrost. Worst of all, I hated the feel of snow and the sound it made when it crunched under my boots.

Another two inches of snow fell since I climbed out of my unmarked grave. The closely knit trees caught the worst of it, but the cold made my lungs burn with every breath. My body shook so badly that I felt frozen. In the dark, I had no idea where I was walking and the trees here weren’t like the trees in Ardent. I wasn’t on the island anymore. That should make me happy, but I didn’t like the disorientation.

I didn’t just bury myself. Someone left me out here and they wouldn’t travel very far in this extreme weather while carrying a dead body. At least I hoped civilization was close. The silence left me agitated. It gave me too much time to think.

Who buried me alive? Why didn’t I go into hypothermia already? How long did I lay underground? Were Rex, Amber and D okay?

There was something important that I had to remember. It was this annoying string of thoughts that pulled at the very back of my mind. It existed as images, but nothing tangible that made sense.

One wolf cried and others followed. It added to my melancholy.

She’s dead.

No, I wasn’t.

She’s not breathing. There’s no pulse.

They couldn’t hear me laughing, because it was inside my head. I was lucky they didn’t leave me in the Ardent Asylum. A leak in the underwater levels had it sinking fast. Human or not, I wouldn’t be walking out of that watery grave.

A low wind passed through the trees chilling the last of the strength. Moving didn’t warm my body and the freezing cold left me exhausted. If I stopped now, that would be it. I wouldn’t move again. I pushed away from the tree and shuffled onward. The trees were growing more compact and climbing through them took a great deal of energy I didn’t have.

My jaw ached from shivering. I didn’t escape an explosion and near drowning just so the elements could bring me down. I was stronger than this; much stronger.

She’s dead.

Amber’s voice was so loud in my head that it startled me. Startled me to the point that it took a moment to realize I’d leaned against the tree and shut my eyes. I had to keep moving. The grave followed me. I could feel an airy emptiness in my chest like a part of me was already gone.

The snowflakes made my cheeks wet, but they couldn’t possibly make my skin any frostier. In the pit of coldness that served as my chest, my shadowy heart thudded just as the wolves howled much too close for comfort. They were hunting and as close as they were, it had to be me they were after.

In the silence, I heard paws kicking up snow. If my hearing wasn’t so advanced, the sound would be lost to me. Adrenaline, my old friend, lent me the energy to push through a group of closely knit trees, but my hips wedged. Moonlight caught fur as wolves filled the small space I stood moments ago. I grabbed the trees I was stuck between and tried to push through.

A wolf lunged at my boot and I kicked at it, catching it in its maw. It gave a yelp, but didn’t detour the others. Teeth went straight through the soggy leather, biting into my flesh. Despite my numb skin, a rush of heat encompassed that bite as blood filled my shoe. I screamed and the vibration ripped through my painfully dry throat. I clenched my teeth so it wouldn’t happen again.

My heart raced and the shadowy flutter just within my chest began pulsing too. I felt awake; alive for the first time since crawling from my grave. The wolves clung to my boots, making it difficult to kick. They tugged hard and I nearly slid from the tree before I caught myself, wrenching my shoulders terribly. The pain made the world spin around me, but pain was good. I was still alive.

Thick teeth sank into my thigh and I bit my tongue in surprise. Blood filled my mouth and I liked the taste of it; hot, metallic, salty. It spurred something inside me.

My nerves were on fire with sensory overload. I welcomed the pain. I wanted it as much as I wanted to cause it. This new feeling was frightening. I desired malice and torture.

Darkness slid through the trees and it had nothing to do with my vision. It was inky and shapeless, moving in the shadow where the moonlight didn’t reach. Every hair on my body rose in response. The wolves were tugging harder and the muscles in my arms were starting to give out. I couldn’t keep this up. My elbows screamed in agony from the constant tugging, but if I let go now, I’d fall and they’d go straight for my throat.

The inky shadows stopped five feet from me. They were faceless, but I knew what they were. I used them to fight Free-String Walkers. They were a part of me that I should be able to control, but I didn’t call them now. An empty cold emitted from their presence, much colder than the surrounding arctic.

The shadows rushed forward and the wolves yelped. The wolves released me from their jaws and the force sent me straight into the tree’s tight v-shaped bend. My sides pulsed and I scratched my elbows on the bark freeing myself. It ached trying to catch my breath, but none of my ribs were broken.

There were tuffs of fur littering the snow on the lower branches where the wolves took off, but the spots of blood were mine. I took a few steps to test the damage and my left ankle nearly sent me into the snow. My boots were pretty chewed up and I could just imagine what my ankle and calves looked like. The blood cooled in my shoes making my feet colder.

My right thigh pulsed with heat. Blood, snow and dirt had my pants plastered against my thigh. In this cold, I didn’t dare pull anything off to assess the damage. I could feel how extensive it was.

The shadows were gone and the air drew a few degrees warmer. They saved me, but I had no warning. Shouldn’t there be a sign that they were coming, especially if I was the one controlling them. I fought the memories that wanted to take root. My stomach knotted. I killed a lot of Free-String Walkers with the shadows. They might not be human, but they screamed and showed fear like a human.

I shuddered and it had nothing to do with the cold. This wasn’t the first time I wanted comfort and there was no one to give it. I hugged myself, but it left me feeling desperate for companionship, even if I was being used. Where was Rex? Did he really leave me buried out in the middle of nowhere?

Branches rattled overhead and a stench followed the black feathers that fluttered down. They were as long as my forearm, way too long to be from a common crow. Some of those feathers landed right next to me, beside my dark splotches of blood in the snow. If my blood was any color other than red, I’d flip, but there wasn’t enough light to really tell.

I dug my painfully stiff fingers into the back of my boots, relieved at least one blade still remained, but my fingers refused to grasp it. My fingers brushed over the deep wound left by the wolves and my nerves screamed. I hissed through my teeth, refusing to scream as I pulled the slick blade from its thin leather pouch. The inside of my boot was slick with blood and snow.

I was rooting for the wolves. If they killed you, it would solve my dilemma, something masculine chirped overhead.

The trees were silhouettes of shadow with their thick overlapping branches. Even with the moonlight reflecting off the snow, I couldn’t see a thing. The branches swayed and snow fell in clumps in front of my feet.

All this water and my throat and lips were dry. My body was shaking so badly, I could barely hold the handle of the blade.

The wind swept downward again and though I was prepared, the scent of rotting flesh made me gag. Whatever was in the tree was nasty. I strained my eyes to see what I was up against. The feathers were no indication.

Scream again, little hunter. I like the way sound rips from your lips, he said.

If he wanted me to scream, he’d have to elicit it. I rolled my shoulders trying to work the stiffness, but I was an hour out of my grave and the cold wasn’t helping much with flexibility.

He was hidden in the trees, but I wasn’t out of options when it came to seeing him. He smelt dead, but as long as he had some sort of living energy, I could see his pulse by lowering my metaphysical shield. My shields protect me. By lowering them, I was leaving myself open to his energy. I didn’t feel comfortable with this option, but he made it clear he wanted me dead.

When I was young, it was hard keeping the metaphysical shields in place, but now, this energy was clingy. Before the grave, it wasn’t this dark or dense. My shields were thin streams of light that gravitated around me, keeping people’s emotions out of my head.

He chuckled. The dead shouldn’t walk without a master.

That sounded like a threat, leaving me no choice. Empathy is my strongest ally and worst enemy. Using it had the potential of being a double edged sword. I could change people’s emotions, but there was the danger that their emotions would bombard my conscious. I had to cut myself to keep my thoughts my own. If I used it now, there was no telling what connection I might receive from the creature in the trees.

I didn’t take you for the shy, quiet type, he said.

I grinned. My silence was making him uncomfortable.

With him high above, it was difficult to pinpoint his location. I had no choice but to open my metaphysical self to the elements and feel him. I gritted my teeth to keep them from chattering and tried to focus on the dark strands of light that circled me. I’m sure this meant something, just like my white marbled left arm. I was changing into something, but what?

There’s something about you that I don’t like. You’re energy isn’t contained. You’re more than my mistress bargained for. You are a mistake. You should be left here to die.

He gave off such an endless stream of input. Did I really make him that uncomfortable? Part of me was glad for that and I wasn’t nearly as reserved as I usually am with my emotions.

My shields weren’t moving and the effort was making my temples hurt. I bit back the pain. What was one more ache? I’d just have to do this the old fashion way. Lay and wait.

Your smell bothers me. I’ve smelt many a creatures, but you are different, he said.

The feeling was mutual. His taunts didn’t faze me. The school yard kids said worst things.

It swung a branch lower and leaves along with feathers rained down around me. How I wish the snow would cleanse that scent. My fingers were stiff from the cold, which didn’t give me much faith in my abilities. It hurt to move, but I pulled my legs underneath me, ready to lunge when it came down.

Is it true? Did you destroy the Ardent Asylum? Did you crumble World Congress’s tower?

When I didn’t answer, the thing clucked in a manner that could pass for laughter. It sounded like a turkey gobbling.

Keep your silence for my master so I may watch her rip your tongue out.

Branches cracked as it plummeted into the small area causing a hole in the branches. The sudden light, as low as it was, caused pain to shot through my right eye socket. It was nearly impossible to ignore as I lunged to my feet and my frozen body protested the quick movement.

What landed in that small space was nearly as tall as I was, with oily black feathers and an extremely long, crane-like neck. The beak was as long as my forearm, with a hook at the tip that could tear flesh. With his head tilted, he studied me with his beady black eyes.

Some birds had the capacity to speak, but I didn’t think of him as a bird. He was something entirely different. Dangerous. Even with my shields in place, I could see his aura now, though my piercing headache made it difficult to concentrate. The aura wasn’t on the outside of the feathers, but a thin blue line that peaked out from within the confines of the feathers. Was he wearing a skin? I read that in one of the books Jose, my best mentor ever, gave me to study.

I waved my free hand in the air above my face, but that stench wasn’t going anywhere. It was thick now and even my good eye clouded with tears. I couldn’t breathe. The rot burned the inside of my nose and the back of my throat. He clicked his long beak at me.

Your move, Shadow Puppeteer.

There was that word again. What the hell did that really mean? I wasn’t with Jose long enough to understand it. What I knew about Shadow Puppeteers was first hand and it made me uncomfortable. Sometimes I could feel the shadows. Sometimes I could ask them to do something, but like earlier, sometimes they took care of things on their own.

My shoulders ached from holding my position, ready to stab him. In better conditions, this wouldn’t be such a challenge, but lying stiffly in a grave for an unknown amount of time had its downfall. With no food, water or exercise, I was doing pretty well for a girl who was meant to be dead.

Please, please don’t let me be dead, I silently prayed to the stars.

It flapped its wings, taking to the air. Adrenaline heated my blood, making me far more nimble than before. Cold air rushed over my head as I pressed upward with the blade at its lower belly. The feathers gave way like a wall of fabric. My blade hit nothing solid and despite myself, there was a tiny bit of relief. I wasn’t prepared to feel my blade rip flesh.

Wrong way to think about this. Survival of the fittest.

His claw caught my outstretched hand, digging into my flesh. I bit my cheeks, but not before a pained hiss escaped my lips. The creature clicked his tongue, amused. My blood was hot, rolling thickly down my arm. It yanked me off my feet and right into a tree before letting go.

A fresh wave of coldness attached itself to my body as I went back first into the snow. I rolled from the ground, feeling off my game. I was too slow. If that creature wanted me dead, it had plenty of opportunities. It was just toying with me. I rubbed my shoulder where it grabbed me, but my cold fingers couldn’t penetrate the muscle.

So you aren’t completely unbreakable, he said.

He flapped his wings and raced at me again. I dove towards my blade resting within a patch of twigs, but he caught my shoulders. His talons dug deep and blood burst around the sharp edges, warming my clothes for a mere second before the cold stole even that from me.

He chirped in merriment. Time to meet your maker.

I gripped its legs, trying to dig my fingernails into his skin. It couldn’t be penetrated and I was soaring upward through the trees, dangling by his grasp on my shoulders. Branches scratched at my exposed skin, leaving stinging marks, and then we were free from the vegetation. I gave up struggling so I could hold a hand over my right eye. It eased some of the pain in the socket.

The wind pushed against us, making me rock on those