Shadows: The Penllyn Chronicles, #6

By Troy A. Hill

Originally published as "A Coil of Shadows". 

 

The enemies of the Goddess still haunt Britain...

Undead enemies – the kind Maria doesn't want to face, but only her unique skills are capable of matching – still, haunt Britain.

Barrow after barrow lay open from their intrusion. What are they searching for? What are they? Why are they in Britain?

Maria, Gwen, and Seren begin a journey for answers. A journey among the paths of the dead. Figures from their past emerge, with even more questions.

Shadows of the past begin to coil around the trio. The enemy of the goddess is moving toward an endgame, but can the trio decipher what it is? Will they survive, keep their secrets, and unravel the Whispers of Darkness that will shake the foundations of Britain again?

They uncover shadows best left hidden as the Penllyn saga takes another step toward its endgame.

Shadows is the sixth book in an Epic Dark Fantasy adventure. If you like rich historical settings, a diverse cast of characters, and a dash of snarky humor, then you'll love Troy A. Hill's captivating series. Grab your copy today.

 

This series includes:

The author has combined the Cup of Blood and the Penllyn Chronicles series into one series. The books have been rebranded with new covers and titles, but the story is still the same.
Books in the series are:

Preludes

Blood

Soul

Blink

Whisper

Shadows

Chaos

Sovereign * Coming winter 2024

• Language: English
• Publisher: Troy A. Hill
• Release date: Jun 27, 2019
• ISBN: 9798215263082

Troy A. Hill

I was not fortunate enough to have been born to Welsh parents. Instead, my melting-pot American roots run to both Scotland and Germany. I did, however, find a nice American girl with solid Scottish ancestry to marry. My interest in Fantasy literature began as an offshoot of reading Science Fiction. One of the first fantasy novels I read was Robert A. Heinlein's Glory Road. From there, I graduated to J.R.R. Tolkien. Then I discovered the works of David Eddings, Glen Cook, Laurell K. Hamilton and R.A. Salvatore.
 When I decided to begin a career in writing, Hamilton's Anita Blake series, as well the works of R.A. Salvatore's Drizzt series made me want to combine vampires and dark fantasy along with a historical setting. I chose to explore Arthurian mythology.

Book preview

1

SEEKING DARKNESS

V erpa dei! I muttered as a fresh rain of rocks tinkled down the slope.

Gwen shot a glare at me.

Our goddess doesn’t have one, she sent across our mental link. There was a hint of mirth in her tone, despite the serious set to her face. If you curse with every footfall, the sound of the rocks won’t matter.

Cursing helps take the edge off my nerves, I said. This far away from the tree line means Seren and Emlyn can’t be our backup.

We resumed our climb. The slope in this area wasn’t steep, Gwen had said. True, it wasn’t one of the cliff faces that Ruadh and Iolo were always trying to clamber up. This wasn’t, however, an easy walk.

Are you sure we’re in the right area? I sent. This is the steepest and rockiest place on Britannia I’ve seen yet. No wonder Ruadh enjoys climbing if this is his homeland.

He comes from farther north, Gwen replied. This is closer to the area where I was raised. Although my father’s lands were farther to the south and much more green.

Is it rough coming home after so long?

Not any longer, she sent. Once my birth family had passed, I could fade away.

I took longer to let go, I sent. Even though I had a new family in my undead brothers and my master, there were too many people I knew in Rome. Too many of my father’s compatriots. They knew of me, and when he passed, they stepped in to make sure I had a father figure in my life. Several hundred.

That was my case, too, Gwen sent. We continued our climb. A dozen retainers from my father’s lands looking after me interfered with my service to The Lady. That’s why I focused on my identity as a member of the convent. I asked the abbess to assign me elsewhere, out of their reach.

You weren’t the abbess? I asked. With your former station…

Arthur’s death had far-reaching repercussions, Gwen sent. I was far better off staying out of the political levels from then on.

And Arthur’s retainers?

Happy to see me move on while they fought their wars. Gwen dislodged some rocks. They bounced and clattered past me.

All of that made sense. Letting go of the old was the toughest thing I had faced in my undead life. Every time generations of those I loved died off, I had to move on. Once they aged, I couldn’t return to visit. My everlasting youthful appearance would raise concerns.

This melancholy isn’t serving either of us well, I sent. Seren hasn’t figured out how to make that spell undetectable, has she? More stones from our steps bounced down the hillside.

The one to silence noise? Not yet, Gwen sent. I had Iolo search an area with his fae senses. He was quick to find Seren sneaking up on him. She even wore Arthur’s cloak to hide herself from his sight. The ripple that the spell creates is too much like a wrinkle the shifters leave. Only more noticeable.

Did he sense the cloak instead of the spell?

No, she replied. We tried both with and without the silent spell. He couldn’t detect her when she used just the cloak. Add a spell to silence sound, and the spell ripple gave her away.

She is the best one to have the cloak, I sent. Emlyn said whatever creature is inside Dunstan’s corpse, it fought just as well as he and I. If I wore it, the cloak would risk getting sliced by those… I paused. We still didn’t know what to call the monsters that Dunstan and Baldwin’s dead bodies had become.

Other than Father Adda, who saw her in that cave, Gwen said as she crested the ridge, no other witch hunter knows of her relationship to the goddess.

I don’t wish whatever those two… creatures… would do to him on anyone other than Lecerf, I sent and stepped next to her. Before us, the ridge line continued on for another league. It climbed then, and the flattened path we stood on branched off around its side about a third of the way along.

Lecerf met the fate he deserved, dearest. You saw to that. She pointed along the ridge. The caves I sense are about halfway along.

We stayed cautious as we neared the cave opening. To our right, the slope steepened and became a cliff. The path before us narrowed, so we could only take two steps from the wall rising along our left to the drop-off at the right. This wasn’t a place I wanted a fight. Especially not against those possessed corpses.

The jagged opening in the wall wasn’t a man-made fissure. I had Soul in hand as I peered into the rocky slit. We were near evening, and I needed to let my eyes adjust to the dim confines.

Dear ones, Gwen sent, sharing her vision. I kept my eyes towards the cave. I needed my night sight, however, a shared vision would not change how my eyes adjusted.

Mortar? Seren replied as she saw the same powdered granular edge to several of the dislodged chunks of rock. It appears to not be normal… is there a sense of magic to it?

Yes, and more, Gwen replied. She rotated the piece of stone and activated her connection to The Lady. The small touch of her magic made the stone flare to life. A familiar sign showed up. Similar to one I had helped Seren draw on the walls and doors of Caer Penllyn. We only had a fragment of a larger piece.

The symbols are familiar, yet different, Seren sent. And some make no sense.

They are fae. We can ask Iolo. A word of caution, though. Gwen paused. Drawing the full copy of the complete symbol may not be wise. I’ll search for other fragments while there is still light. If you sketch it for him, keep each element separate.

Gwen picked through the rubble. I sent my magical senses dancing through its twists and turns.

Oh, Seren sent. That piece should fit between the other two.

Gwen arranged the three fragments next to each other. We now had about a quarter of a circle. The outer edge was a series of Celtic symbols etched into the stone. No tool marks were visible. The familiar symbols Seren and I had drawn showed in a repeated pattern between two curves. The pattern would continue around in a circle as large as my head.

What is inside the circle? Seren asked. Any other fragments?

No more that I can find, Gwen added. If we have time, we’ll search more after we search the tombs.

You’re sure it’s a tomb? I asked. We all knew the answer.

I pulled energy from the goddess and lit both Soul and the blade I still carried from the year before. The blade of Osmund, son of Tata, glowed with the same reddish hue I sent into Soul.

That always reminds me of blood, Seren added, still sharing Gwen’s vision.

Red doesn’t destroy my night vision, I sent. Gwen had a reddish ball of light hanging above her shoulder.

But will it harm one of those creatures? Seren sounded unsure, though the red color had been her idea.

It should, Gwen added. The power still comes from The Lady.

If Dunstan or Baldwin are inside, I’ll find out, I added. Now let me explore.

The winding passage looked like so many others Gwen and I had explored over the past year. Natural fissures widened where needed to allow human passage. Wherever there was a crack or gap in the rock, it was enlarged enough for a clay urn. Each time we came to one, Gwen sent her magical senses in, probing the contents.

Nothing, she sent. That meant no magic inside. Nothing she could detect, anyway. No undead skeleton ready to animate and attack, and no cloud of black shadowy death waiting for us. We hoped.

I led the way, farther and farther through the twist. Another half dozen niches contained a score of urns. We paused by each until Gwen pronounced them clear.

Finally, the passage widened enough for me to swing a sword if needed. That meant a larger chamber ahead. I was correct. Gwen stepped into a small cavern. I stayed at the entrance, surveying the layout. Seven or eight paces deep and four or five paces wide. Niches lined the walls. Here, they contained piles of bones. Broken crockery lay about. Something had destroyed every urn in the tombs.

There is a sense of something about this place, Gwen sent. Something odd…

I stepped in and centered myself in the cavern, blades in hand. She was the brains of our team. I was the protection. The champion of the goddess, here to protect Gwen. Together, with Seren, we protected Britain.

Gwen stepped towards the first niche.

Dearest!

A cacophony of rattles sounded around us. Ancient bones collided, stacked, and reformed. Figures lurched forward, bony hands outstretched towards us.

I used Soul to cleave a head from one. I thrust the sword of Osmund between the ribs of another and pushed the light of the goddess into the blade. A twist of the bright red sword, and it collapsed into a heap of dry bones. Another score of the undead clattered together. merda! This was a first. We’d expected to find two walking corpses with extreme fighting skills. Instead, we had a horde of skeletons fighting like they did at the abbey. Slow and lumbering. Unskilled.

Sense anything unusual? I asked as I spun through the gathering crowd. Gwen had backed against a wall. Two more light balls, these white, zoomed overhead. My swords scored hit after hit, and faded tan skulls went flying with each hit.

Something different… Gwen sent.

A residual spell, perhaps? Seren asked.

Perhaps…

The hairs on the back of my neck was stiff. A handful of skeletons remained, and I danced my blades into them.

Glowing red eyes lunged at me as the skull parted from the aged spine of the last standing skeleton.

2

SHADOWS

The shadow continued its lunge. I sidestepped, but the damn thing spun around. A dark face, covered with dark misty fur, snapped at me. A wolf-like face peered at me with those red eyes. Soundless, I could almost imagine the growl as it twisted around to lunge in again. This time I stepped aside and stabbed Soul at it.

Where the red blade struck, I felt resistance. Afon had described a similar sensation from his battles with the shadow cloud. I understood now what he meant. The wolf-shadow wasn’t substantial, and yet it was. The beast snapped its black fangs at my blade.

A white ball of light smacked its flanks. Gwen hurled another from the side of the cavern. Both of the strikes made the creature glow on the inside before its darkness consumed the energy of the goddess. Where the shadow and light met, they swirled and sparkled for a second. The wolf-creature jerked and spasmed with each hit. The glow of its eyes diminished.

Ready! I sent and plunged Soul into the beast’s side. The now-glowing sword of Osmund was my defense against the shadowy fangs. I was certain those would hurt as bad as silver if the unnatural wolf scored a bite.

With Soul in the beast, I pumped a pulse of divine energy into the blade. Seren had worked with me to learn how to gather and hold the energy, so I could make it blast out like she and Gwen used the daylight spell. I didn’t have the spell abilities of those two, but I was capable of channelling the raw energy.

The pulse burst from the sword. Gwen and I both slammed our eyes shut right before the energy ripped through the beast. No sense in blinding ourselves. The yelp of pain vibrated through my steel, though no sound reached my ears.

The creature was now half the size it was before the burst.

NOW! I sent, then I jerked my blade out and took half a step back. I had to give Gwen enough of a line to the beast, while keeping myself between it and her. And I didn’t want to get sizzled by one of those bolts.

The light-spell bolt hit the creature and sizzled through it. This time the dance and sparks of the divine light consumed the shadow-wolf instead of fighting it. My blade and pulse of divine energy had weakened it enough for Gwen’s bolt to sizzle it into nothing.

I dropped into my ready stance, one blade low and almost horizontal, the other back at shoulder level, ready to dart into whichever strike I needed. The ceiling wasn’t high enough for my normal overhead position of that blade.

I rotated, scanning for another opponent. Nothing.

I sense no other magic or creatures in the cavern, Gwen said.

Look for more glyphs, please, Seren sent.

I sheathed Osmund’s blade on my right hip but kept Soul out. Just in case. The hairs on my neck still had a tingle that took a moment to relax. Gwen sent her balls of light drifting around the cavern. The shift of the shadows on the collapsed bones of our first attackers made me wary. I jerked my eyes about the first few seconds, confident that the shifting shadows meant a skeleton was reforming. I’d seen too much of that at the battle against Lecerf at the abbey.

The pit of my stomach tightened whenever I thought of my time under Lecerf’s control. Onion Breath and his silver ropes had been bad enough. The severe hopelessness I’d felt with that damned silver torc on my neck was more than gut-wrenching. And every pile of bones here brought back memories of that necromancer and his evil collar.

Instead of dwelling on those feelings, I forced my eyes to wander over the niches on the side opposite of where Gwen searched.

One urn caught my eye. I pointed Soul at it. The urn had split in two halves. Gwen sucked in a breath in surprise. Even Seren gasped.

Although it was large enough to house a full corpse—half as tall as I and as big around as my sword was long—no bones or fragments lay within. Not even the oily residue of long-dead flesh. The vessel was just empty. Not even dust. The inside was black as night and the outside light, almost white. The outside of the vessel, however, was what made us gasp.

A smaller version of what looked like the symbol Gwen had discovered on the rocky doorway was there too. Two halves of the symbol, rather.

Move closer, please, Seren sent. I’m sketching the symbol, so keep looking at it.

Make sure you do not complete it, Gwen warned.

I have two different sheets, half on each, Seren sent. I need to thank Iolo for his portable desk and charcoal stylus.

What does it mean? I asked.

This should be familiar. Gwen pointed at one symbol.

That’s the undead symbol, I said.

It’s a variation of the death symbol, Gwen sent and then pointed to another. This is a type of the barrier symbol. My guess is that it is to contain, not to keep out.

What about the others? The additional symbols seemed to share much with the old Celtic style but were more flowing. A different style, yet oddly similar.

Fae glyphs, Gwen sent. She gave both a physical and mental shrug. I’ve seen them, but I’ve never learned their meanings.

I’ve finished the sketches, Seren sent. Uncle Emlyn says he’ll send a guard to fetch Iolo in the morning.

Assuming he and Ruadh haven’t found another rock to climb, I sent.

They understand what we’re doing is important, Gwen added.

The monks had services to lead among the villages today, Seren added. Uncle Heilyn was here at the caer and said he’s keeping Iolo and Ruadh close, and together, in case we need them. But there are too many villages and not enough monks to cover the cantref and the new churches in Mercia.

Gwen had her hands extended above the broken urn, her eyes closed. She stood and slowly walked along the niches. She kept her hand out, using her magical senses, I surmised, as she rotated through the tomb.

Here, she said and pointed.

Another symbol was etched into the stone of the wall between two nooks.

More fae symbols, Seren sent.

I don’t have knowledge of things fae, I sent.

Iolo is our best resource for fae, Seren sent.

But…? I sent. There was always a but in these discussions.

The Seelie court limits what his mother can teach him, Gwen sent.

Remember, Seren added, he’s half fae and an outcast. His mother is a fae princess by marriage, as long as he stays out of the Seelie court. The heir to the Seelie king will not acknowledge him. His mother may only spend a short time with him each year.

When is he to meet her again? I asked. There might be some word from the court from your request through his mother about those creatures in Baldwin and Dunstan’s bodies.

Another month, I believe, Seren sent. Uncle Heilyn mentioned he’d have to have Ruadh take over prior duties then.

The abbey always seem to run better with Iolo as prior, I added. Ruadh always makes Brother Hew nervous. When Brother Hew is nervous, he burns his pastries. That makes Bleddyn grumpy.

Yes, Lord Penllyn complains the loudest when his sweet breads and pastries are burned, Seren sent, her tone one of mock outrage, then she giggled.

If you two are done with your banter, Gwen interrupted, I believe I know where whatever was in that urn went.

It grave-walked? Seren asked.

To Mercia, Gwen sent. I can’t be too precise, but within a two- or three-day walk of Tamworth. It was long ago, perhaps a year or more.

Was it one of our shadow-clouds? I asked.

Perhaps, Gwen sent. The traces of its passage through the graves have a similar signature to what I sensed in the tombs where Dunstan died.

So, we’ve got a potential location of one of the dark clouds of death, I summarized. A horde of animated skeletons, and a shadow-wolf attacked us. What do we know other than that?

The cloud, or whatever that urn contained, escaped, Seren sent. It may have set a spell to animate the dead if anyone came to investigate.

What if the shadow-wolf was in the urn?

Perhaps, Gwen sent. But it seemed rather easy to dispatch. Perhaps if the urn contained one of the shadow-clouds, the shadow-wolf is connected to it somehow.

You mean those clouds living in Baldwin and Dunstan’s corpses might cast spells and have a pet shadow-dog?

Perhaps, Gwen sent.

Verpa dei! I swore again. "When I find out which god is screwing with us, I’m going to cut his⁠—"

Dearest, Gwen sent, please don’t threaten the gods.

3

OLD FRIENDS

Gwen’s tree-walk brought us out into a forest. She said we were somewhere in Mercia.

You’re the one who has a way with plants, I said. Do the trees know where we are?

Gwen turned around and glared at my jest, then stuck her tongue out and giggled. Her arm slid around my waist and pulled me in for a hug.

I’m so glad you’re with me, she said and laid her head on my shoulder. You seem to find fun even in the dark times.

That’s what I’m here for, I said and kissed her forehead. Laughter and poking monsters with the pointy ends of swords.

Gwen straightened. Her gaze swept the surrounding area. Night was pushing back the last of the sunset, and the trees were being swallowed by the dark. Gwen the leader was back at the forefront of her persona. In answer to your question, no, the trees don’t know our names for towns and villages. But they remember you passing this way.

So we’re close to where we chased after Undead Baldwin.

Likely, she said. I sense humans about half a league farther on. Let’s walk that way and see what we learn.

Gwen’s hand found mine as we walked. The touch of her warm flesh on mine was welcome. Two years into our relationship, and I still found every contact with her exciting.

I let her lead. She had been walking alone in the forests and hills of Britannia for over a century. There was little in the normal world that startled her. I still kept my hand near my belt, however, ready to grab my blade if needed. The last two years had shown us both that there were still things that could scare both of us silly.

We had covered half, or a little more, of the distance when my sense of foreboding kicked in. I didn’t have the tingle up my back that the clouds seemed to give me. Still, I wrapped my hand around Soul’s hilt. Gwen pulled her hand back from mine.

Lady Mair, Lady Gwen, a familiar female voice greeted us.

Well met, Wassa, Gwen replied. Mercia’s newest,