Net of Shadows: Shadow Kingdom, #2

By Naomi Kuttner

"You'll find out how the Order works, Ivan. The hard way."

 

Ivan thinks he's left the chaos of last summer behind him. Until the night he stumbles on a secret order of knights sworn to keep supernatural London safe.

Now Ivan's been forced to join them under the protection of an old enemy. The only problem?

If anyone finds out what Ivan can do with shadow power, he's dead.

Threats are gathering on every side, and in this hidden world, no one is who they seem to be.

Will Ivan be able to keep his secret safe while he learns to control his power? Dive into the world of shadow magic, where intrigue, mystery, and danger lie in wait for the unwary.

A fun, adventure-filled urban fantasy series perfect for fans of Holly Black, Neil Gaiman, and Stranger Things.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shadow Kingdom Books
• Release date: Jan 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223052388

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Ivan stared down the blade pointed at his throat. It throbbed and hummed with an otherworldly power, and he knew it would part his flesh with ease. 

This wasn’t how I thought my evening would go. The thought was almost funny, and it distracted him from trying to tense his throat against the inevitable.

The stranger holding the sword wore a visor, mirrored and unreadable. 

Ivan’s neck muscles tightened as the stranger’s hands flexed around the hilt of the sword.

If this is how I go, I want my epitaph to read: Here lies Ivan, a guy who just could not leave well enough alone. Even when he was on a date. Damn it all.

1

One day earlier…

Ivan’s alarm clock startled him awake at 6:00 am. He groaned and rolled out of bed, wincing as his feet met the icy floorboards.

Why do mornings hurt?

The Raven regarded him from the corner of his room with one black eye. It perched on the hat rack Ivan’s best friend Anders had found in a second-hand store. Carrying the hat rack up the staircase of their London flat, Ivan was sure it was the only thing about them that had their ancient landlord’s approval.

Ivan pulled on thick woollen socks, track pants and a jersey, and padded down the hallway to the kitchen.

The flat he shared with Anders and Amelie was on the third storey of a ramshackle Edwardian mansion. Successive university students had rented this place for untold years, and it showed in the faded wallpaper and peeling paint.

It was still dark outside, but Ivan didn’t bother turning on the light. Since last summer, he found the dark didn’t bother him. It wasn’t that he could see in the dark, exactly. He simply knew where things were when they were hidden in shadow.

He hadn’t told anyone yet, because it might seem spooky. Actually, it is a bit spooky.

Also, keeping the light off meant he wouldn’t risk waking Amelie or Anders, whose bedroom was just by the kitchen. That was another new thing.

Ivan found he was less clumsy in the dark. Usually, making breakfast meant at least one dropped teaspoon or milk spill. In total blackness, he felt sure of himself. That’s edging the spook factor up a notch. I’m becoming a creature of the night. Cue the twilight zone soundtrack.

As always, grinding the coffee smelled wonderful. He poured warm water on his cereal (no milk in the budget till next week) and chewed meditatively while the coffee brewed.

His thick black hair flopped down over his eyes as Ivan stared out the small kitchen window that overlooked an uninspiring alleyway filled with rubbish bins and heavily chained bicycles. If I have to choose between coffee and milk on my cereal, coffee wins. Every. Time.

Dawn was brightening the brick walls when Anders emerged from his room, yawning cavernously, his curly blonde hair dishevelled.

Kettle’s boiled, said Ivan and beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom before Amelie could get there. There was a running argument over who used more hot water - Ivan or Amelie. Ivan tried to cut his showers short, but it was the best place to think.

He was still processing, he supposed. That was the word psychologists used on the talk shows he’d taken to watching late at night when he couldn’t sleep. Amelie disparaged the ‘pop psych quacks’ as she called them. But Ivan found their patter helpful.

I have a lot to process from last summer. Amelie and Anders probably do too, but I don’t want to talk to them about it. That’ll just open a conversation I’m not ready for.

In the unlit bathroom, the warm trickle of water hit the nape of Ivan’s neck and ran down his back. The water pressure in the aged flat ranged from poor to abysmal. Right now, in late autumn, it was still bearable. But by wintertime, showers would be an exercise in endurance, as there was simply not enough water flow to keep a body warm.

This was London, though, and affordable flats were hard to come by. Flats where a Raven could be hidden and then let out to fly around Regent’s park at night were non-existent. So be grateful for this lukewarm shower, Ivan.

He gave a drawn-out sigh. I think I have PASD. Post Adventure Stress Disorder. Ivan had dreamed up this term after a late-night talk show session. It seemed accurate.

Since the crazy night when the world had almost ended, Ivan had wanted more than anything to do things with shadow power. But nothing had worked. He was as far from being able to access the strange abilities he’d briefly had as he was from outer Mongolia.

Ivan dried his thick black hair and dressed in what he thought of as his university uniform. Skinny black jeans, black t-shirt, black jersey, black canvas trainers and a black hooded jacket.

Regents University was a leisurely half-hour walk from home. As Ivan left the house, part of his mind registered the presence of the Raven back in his flat. It was odd how he could sense where it was. Maybe because it’s a shadow creature. It seemed the craziness of last summer had left him with a few random abilities and not much else. But you’re still alive. Count that as a win.

The gracious ivy-covered brick buildings of Regents University welcomed him in. It was, he thought, everything a university should be.

He slipped inside the lecture hall to listen to Mr McKinnon unpack the Ur-myth, the original hero’s journey of Gilgamesh the god-king who sought immortality.

Ivan had taken this paper on myths and legends because he hoped it would shine a light on the strange things that had happened last summer.

It had seemed like a good idea when he first signed up. But at some point during the lecture, Mr McKinnon always turned the lights off, leaving only the projector on while he talked.

Ivan liked these lectures. Each time the lights dimmed, he tried hard not fall asleep.

Most days, he failed.

The other students’ breathing, his chronic lack of sleep, and the pleasant darkness always lulled him into a semi-conscious state.

This time as the lights came on, Ivan sat up, blinking and wiping drool from the corner of his mouth. His notes curved down the page in an illegible scrawl. Damn. It happened again. Maybe Amelie’s right about my midnight walks and sleep deprivation.

Mr McKinnon cleared his throat and started to read a poem to the class.

"Between the idea

And the reality

Between the motion

And the act

Falls the Shadow."

Ivan jolted into alertness. His heart pounded, and icy adrenaline raced across his skin. His vision darkened at the edges as if the words were a magic spell, triggering something deep inside him. As if I’d always known them.

Mr McKinnon paused and adjusted his thick glasses. What does this mean? What is the poet T.S. Eliot trying to say? he scanned his audience, and Ivan knew he was about to be called out.

Sure enough, the professor’s mild brown eyes fixed on him, and Ivan didn’t have the heart to hold out on him.

Anyone? Ivan.

Ivan struggled for clarity, trying to get himself calm again. What did the words mean?

Ah, he said, hoping inspiration would strike before he had to finish the sentence. Behind him, Anit, the literature whiz, give an exaggerated sigh. It means that there’s a shadow between everything.

Yes, prompted McKinnon. And what does that mean?

Well, there’s a gap, Ivan tried to kick his muddled thoughts into order. A shadow that...messes with things. Makes things turn out differently than you planned.

Yes, said McKinnon musingly. But there’s more than that. Anyone else? Ah, Anit.

Anit had his hand raised high, a superior smile on his face.

It’s about the space of potential. The shadow is where the imagined world meets the real world, the gap where anything can happen, anything is possible.

That’s what I said. Just not as well.

An interesting theory. Thank you, Anit, said McKinnon. Anyone else? I want one more.

A clear voice sounded from the back of the class, and everyone turned around to see who had spoken. It was a young woman Ivan hadn’t seen before. She had vivid red curls, bright red lipstick, and a pierced eyebrow. She would have looked like a 1920’s filmstar if she hadn’t been dressed in stylish punk rocker gear.

It means that whenever we go to do something, there is a force stopping us. Her voice was lilting, with a hint of Irish brogue. The world we live in will never be perfect, never be pure, because of this darkness.

In a heartbeat, Ivan felt like he was suffocating. He was back in the cave when the lightning struck him, seeing time progressing moment by moment, and in between each moment...was the shadow.

The cold flood of adrenaline washed across him again. Did I just get triggered? Forget PASD. Is this what a panic attack feels like? Then, the thought behind the thought. Has using shadow power made me evil? Darkness and shadows are meant to be bad, right?

Ivan carefully unclenched his hands and took a slow breath through his nose. It’s ok. I’m ok.

He looked around. No one appeared to have noticed his reaction. But when he glanced over his shoulder, the red-haired punk lady caught his eye. She shot a sardonic look in his direction.

Play it cool, Ivan. Just act normal. Ivan shuffled through the notes on his desk, his hands shaking. He concentrated on taking even slow breaths till the end of the class, trying to ignore the darkening around the edges of his vision. Has anyone else noticed? Am I officially losing the plot?

The chiming of bells outside sounded the end of the hour. It rang like a release from jail for Ivan, who jumped up and started gathering his stuff.

The punk lady brushed past him as the other students filed out of the room. Ivan was sure she’d done it on purpose. Did she see me freaking out? Or does she know something about shadows? I’m being paranoid. Calm the fuck down, Ivan.

Ivan told himself everything was ok, but the cold sweat down the back of his neck said otherwise. All he wanted to do was go home, sit on his bed with the Raven nearby, and think about nothing. Instead, he checked his timetable and figured out where he needed to be for his next class.

If this is how my powers come back, I’m in trouble. Because I’m not handling this well. And I don’t know how to handle it better.

His phone beeped with a message. Ivan checked the sender: it was Ida. The day outside brightened.

> You and me Viking boy. Tomorrow night. Wear a tie. (No, don’t.)

2

W ell? Ida stood before Ivan, a diminutive pixie in combat stance with shoulders back, hands on hips, and brown eyes alive with purpose.

Ivan shoved his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets, pulling the hood down on his head. Well, what?

You’ve been in London for nearly a month now. I’d given up on you ever calling me. Has weird stuff gone down?

I, ah, said Ivan. His face heated. This is not the way I imagined the date starting. He ran his hand through his hair, pushing back his hood. Look, can we talk about something else? Anything else? It’s just…

Your life is a mess right now, and you want to forget about it for an evening? Okay, I get it. Ida smiled revealing a small gap between her front teeth. Join the club. With a hop, she joined him on the footpath, hooking her arm through his. Stick with me, kid, and you’ll be okay.

With a tug, she swung him around, and they walked down the street towards Soho. Despite their height difference, their strides fit together easily. Ida walked the way she did everything, quickly and with purpose.

What’s the plan for tonight then? asked Ivan.

We’re going to go to my favourite pizza joint in Soho, then we’re going to see a classic movie, then we’re to get an after-movie cake, and then you can walk me home. She widened her eyes slightly at the last bit, and Ivan felt a small lurch in his chest.

That sounds good.

Ida tucked his arm more tightly against her, and they proceeded down Broadwick towards Hopkins Street.

The pizza parlour was warm, and the wooden table was golden, and Ivan sat across from Ida and tried to calm the butterflies in his stomach. I really like her.

Ida took a bite of pizza and then pulled the rest of the slice out to arm’s length, the cheese stretching the distance.

See? she said, mouth full. Real mozzarella can stretch to any length.

Any?

Any.

Ivan tried the same trick, and Ida laughed at his longer arms. She leaned over, took the piece of pizza out of his hand, and stretched the cheese even further out behind her. Then she swooped in and kissed him on the mouth, cheese and all. Ivan nearly choked as he tried to swallow the pizza and kiss her back.

Ivan wiped cheese from his chin, a warm buzzing feeling in his chest, and Ida’s eyes shone in the light of the tin lamps. The silence stretched like mozzarella, and he felt the need to fill the quiet before it became a solid thing between them.

So tell me… he trailed off, wracking his mind for a topic. Are you still into Viking stuff?

Ida shifted in her chair, and Ivan’s heart sank. That was the wrong thing to ask.

Not so much. I think the reenactment thing was about, well, getting away from reality. Then last summer, when all that shit happened, escaping from reality wasn’t an issue anymore.

And here we are. Ivan expected her to ask about his lost shadow powers, but she didn’t. Instead, she cupped her chin in one hand and studied him.

What did you want to be when you grew up?

You mean when I was a kid? Ivan sipped his beer and considered. I wanted to be a fireman for the longest time. Then a beekeeper for one summer. Then a ship’s captain. Then a detective. It all depended on what I was reading or watching. I wanted to be a Jedi pretty much all my childhood. What about you?

Ida blew bubbles into her milkshake and made a face. I wanted to be a ballerina. Yes really. From ages 5 to about 8. Then a wizard with a winged horse ages 9 to 10. It was a thing. I made about a thousand drawings and paintings of it. Then a cat burglar from 11 to 16.

Cat burglar is a specific and recent ambition.

She wrinkled her nose at him. I’m studying law.

Ivan groaned. That's so sensible. Like, a proper profession. Not like my weird bundle of courses that add up to nothing in particular.

At least one corner of my life should make sense. That’s the deal I made.

Deal with who?

Whom, not who. And it was a deal with the devil, she said in a stage whisper.

Despite himself, Ivan shivered. The face that phrase conjured was Magnus, bearded and smiling, armed with fanatical certainty and a razor-sharp knife.

I’m just kidding, said Ida, catching his expression. Although considering the things I’ve seen, perhaps I shouldn’t joke like that. I just meant it’s a deal with my uncle. He’s the head of the family dynasty. So, did you get to the bottom of the whole Norse connection? The Viking mythology thing?

Ivan wanted to ask about her uncle, but she’d glossed over it for a reason. See, I can be tactful.

The Norse thing? Odin’s ravens and wolves? No idea. I mean, I’m taking a course on mythology, but...I don’t know. I think the Wolf and Raven are archetypes. Older than us. It could be they came first and were included in the Norse myths because they were already there, not the other way round.

I see. Chicken and egg question. You’re saying humans might not be the centre of the myth and legend world after all?

Ivan swallowed a mouthful of pizza, relishing the thick mozzarella shot through with jalapenos. Could be. The Raven is fairly independent. When it came with me to London, I thought it was because I’m clearly not qualified to adult on my own yet. But recently, it’s been gone quite a bit. Amelie thinks it’s discovered the Tower of London and is hanging out with its fellow ravens there.

Stealing hot chips from tourists.

Defo. It loves chips.

They talked more, but Ivan kept getting the sense they were skirting a significant topic that sat between them like an invisible barrier. He couldn’t tell if he was avoiding this topic or she was, and he wasn’t even sure what it was. The words ‘shadow powers’ and ‘evil cults’ were good candidates, though.

What he did know was that his eyes kept being drawn to small details of Ida. A stray blonde curl by her left ear bobbed as she talked. One eyebrow always rose higher than the other, and her fingers never kept still. Right now, they were folding the brown paper napkin into a rough origami crane.

Ivan’s mind kept flashing back to their kiss like a skipping record. And she said I can walk her home. Maybe she wants me to stay the night. The thought was thrilling and daunting in equal measure. Each moment of this evening brought him closer to the point in time when he’d stand outside her door, and she’d either invite him in...or not.

What movie are we going to see?

Casablanca, said Ida. Here’s looking at you, kid. She continued at Ivan’s blank look, It’s a classic. You’ll thank me later. Let’s go.

3

Ivan exited the cinema with Ida, enjoying the feeling of her arm linked to his.

You liked it? said Ida.

Yeah. I liked it. Ivan felt like a small heater had turned on in his chest. Nothing can go wrong now. Everything is going to be alright.

They were walking towards the tube station when Ivan stopped.

There was something…a weird feeling of vertigo and then a tugging sensation in his chest. Ivan stumbled against Ida as a wave of weakness swept through his body. He felt siphoned as if a faucet had opened inside him, and power drained out.

And now, he sensed a shadow creature away to his left. It wasn’t the Raven, who had a distinct signature. This creature was larger. Is the Wolf back? What’s it doing in London? What just happened?

What is it? asked Ida.

It’s...I think it’s a shadow creature, said Ivan, straightening up. The weakness had gone, but the unease remained. It feels big, like the Wolf. But different. His heart started racing, fuelling up for something. A fight? A chase?

Ida, do you mind if I go right now? I need to find it. Find out what it’s doing, how it got here. He shifted from one foot to the other, the urgent need to find out what was going on pressing in on him. Thanks so much for the movie. I loved it. And I’m so sorry, but I have to go.

Ida tilted her head as she looked up at him, eyes narrowed. If that’s what you need to do.

I do. Ivan couldn’t explain exactly how or why it seemed so urgent. But it was like an alarm bell going off in his head. A shadow creature, loose in the streets, and it could be the Wolf. Whatever it was felt like an extension of himself, and he had no idea how it had gotten here. Thank you! And sorry!

He pelted down the road towards the shadow being. Whatever it was, it was moving fast, but not directly away from him. I can intercept it somewhere up ahead if it keeps on that pathway.

Five minutes later, his breath rasped and a stitch knifed in his side. But he kept going.

He had no idea where he was in London, but he did know the shadow creature was near now, just a few blocks ahead. Strangely, above the noise of his gasping breath was another sound: motorbike engines. They would fade in and out of hearing as he passed intersections and turned down streets in pursuit of the shadow creature, but they did seem to be getting louder. Is this a biker gang hangout?

Ivan pounded down the street, and the revving motorbike engines sounded closer. There were splattered droplets of shadow on the sidewalk. Something hurt the shadow creature. It’s bleeding.

He turned a corner and faced a dead-end alleyway with buildings on every side except for one, which was an eight foot high wall. Shadow wreathed the back of the alley, and he heard the heavy snorts of something large.

Hey, he advanced slowly, hand raised in the universal gesture of ‘I mean you no harm.’

I’m not going to hurt you. I just need you to let me get close—

A growl deep enough to rattle the windows of the buildings emanated from the shadows. An icy rush of adrenaline flooded his veins. Whatever it is, it’s big.

Hey, he inched forward again. I need to get you home before— the motorbike engines were abruptly louder, as if they’d come around a corner and were heading straight for them.

Ivan glanced over his shoulder, but they weren’t in view...yet.

For months, despite being able to sense the Raven, and knowing where things were in the dark, Ivan hadn’t felt a whisper of shadow power.

But now Ivan felt it. The sense of something alive in the shadows. Something fierce. A whole other world, just a whisper away.

Ivan grinned through the pain of the stitch in his side. The streets at night are full of shadows. And I can feel them. That...power I had. It’s coming back.

He gathered power to himself, and shadows darkened the whole alleyway. Maybe that would calm the creature down so he could help it.

There was a snuffling sound in the shadows, and Ivan made out the curve of a vast back and haunches.

His first thought was of a bear, but it was bigger than any bear and had tusks, horns, scales and a shaggy muzzle.

A mythical shadow creature.

Shadow dripped from a shining spear stuck into its shoulder. The spear glowed faintly in the dark with an ethereal light.

I’m so sorry they hurt you. Ivan took another cautious step nearer.

The beast growled again, but to Ivan’s ears, it wasn’t angry. Now it sounded frightened and unsure.

I need to get this creature out of here before whoever stuck a spear in it catches up with us.

Ivan thought of the Shadow Realm, the miles of ebony sand, the massive creatures that swum above him in the sky, and the giant shadow wolf who’d saved his life. You can hear the sea when you put a seashell to your ear. The ocean, living inside a shell. That’s the answer. I can put a small piece of the Shadow Realm inside this alley and send this creature home.

He remembered how he had created a portal to the shadow world last summer. The memory was a tug deep in his chest. I know the shape of it. This is something I can do. In his mind, Ivan reached out for the shadow realm. It lay where it always was, just a heartbeat away in a direction that didn’t exist.

Here goes.

Ivan reached inside himself and, at the same time, imagined matter coming together in a pattern that was both perfectly solid and as real as a mirage.

The motorbike engines were not helping his concentration.

Come on!

Ivan raised his hands. It probably looked stupid, but it helped him concentrate. He shaped a circle with his hands, and in front of him, a dark passageway began to form. He squashed down his excitement.

Focus.

Ivan felt the connection to the other world, the vast distances only a shadow’s thickness from him. He joined his hands together, and the two worlds locked into place somewhere in his chest.

Now, to get you home.

He hesitated. It took concentration to hold the gate open. He wasn’t up to doing any more than that. In the back of the alleyway, the beast growled and shuffled.

Come on, beastie, I can’t keep this up forever.

The roar of a motorbike rose in volume, and the creature roared a challenge.

Shit! Ivan flailed around, looking for a way to make the creature enter the path home he’d made.

Help! I can’t do this alone. The shout was in his head, but Ivan felt that it went through him into the portal. Into Shadow Land.

As if in answer to his thought, out of the portal to Shadow Land shouldered the one he’d missed most in the last few months.

Shaggy fur, black as midnight. Sloping shoulders and a massive muzzle with jaws that could fit his head inside them. Ivan’s heart leapt as the Wolf stepped out onto the pavement.

With a quick movement, it took in the scene. Its golden eyes met Ivan’s, and then it darted round to snap at the shadow beast. The beast bellowed and surged forward, right into the portal, and then...nothing.

The creature vanished into it like a shadow into the night, leaving the spear to clatter on the pavement.

Ivan held the portal open but the Wolf ignored it.

Are you sure? You’re staying here?

The Wolf blinked its golden eyes at him, then raised its muzzle to sniff the air.

Ok, then.

With a gasp, Ivan released his hold on the Shadow World, and the portal vanished.

The motorbike roar doubled. They’re just around the corner. We’re out of time.

He ran to kneel by the Wolf, hugging it fiercely.

It’s so good to see you. Now, can you please get out of here? I don’t know who’s hunting shadow creatures, but I can’t let them see you.

The Wolf delivered a swift lick to the side of Ivan’s face.

Ivan had the ridiculous thought that he could say, ‘I’m at 45 Blackberry Lane. Meet me there in half an hour.’ And the Wolf would trot down the streets, reading road signs to get there. It probably would.

Please, can you go now? I’ll find you later, I promise.

The Wolf looked deep into his eyes, its golden gaze intent. Then it trotted to the end of the alleyway. With a lithe movement, it jumped on top of a garbage bin and disappeared over the wall.

Ivan let out a breath of relief. I should probably get out of here too. I just want to see that spear.

As he walked over to pick up the glowing spear, Ivan tripped over a drain he hadn’t seen and went sprawling, landing with his face in a pile of unmentionable trash. He pushed himself to his feet just as a motorbike entered the alleyway, its rider stopping with a stylish skid.

It was a black bike, sleek and metallic. The rider wore kevlar armour, but styled in a way that reminded Ivan of a medieval knight.

The armoured figure swung off the motorbike and stepped forward, smoothly drawing a glowing sword.

Uh, said Ivan.

The visor turned to face him, and Ivan found himself the focus of the knight’s attention.

Where did the monster go? said the knight.

It...um....vanished.

The knight strode forward, sword held expertly, its point levelled at Ivan. This was no fancy dress sword, and its owner held it like he knew how to use it.

Vanished? How?

Ivan’s mind supplied the alibi, inspired by a long-ago childhood escapade. There was a big thing...like a giant bear, and then this man came and made a shadow door, and they both vanished. Wincing, Ivan rotated his shoulders. His elbows smarted where he’d hit the pavement. The stuff on his jacket smelled foul.

As he stepped into the light of the streetlamp, the figure took a step back in surprise, its sword coming up again. Do I look that awful? What did I land in? As far as Ivan could tell, it was typical alleyway trash - rotten food, used tissues, assorted junk. Charming.

An echoing roar told him the rest of the motorbike gang was coming their way. The knight cocked his head and looked around the alleyway as if seeking an exit.

He seemed to come to a decision because he sheathed his glowing sword and hurried forward to grab Ivan’s arm.

Listen to me. The rest of my squadron is coming now. There’s no time for you to leave before they get here. They will kill you if they think you’ve seen too much. So follow my lead if you want to live.

Wha—? Ivan tried to pull his arm free of the knight’s grip, but it was like trying to shift an iron bar.

The rest of the motorbike riders arrived, skidding to a halt in that same stylish way. They dismounted in seconds, drawing swords and spears to stand in a v-shaped formation facing Ivan and the knight.

The weapons slowly lowered as they took in the scene.

The knight released Ivan and strode forward confidently.

Brothers. The monster got away, but I have something to declare. This civilian saved my life. He gestured at Ivan.

Ivan brushed potato peels off his jacket and tried to look as if this wasn’t news to him.

The lead knight flicked up his visor, revealing an older man, grey-bearded, with a handsome, square-jawed face.

Saved your life how?

He pushed me out of the way when the monster struck. I didn’t see it in the shadows, and it would have killed me.

Ivan supposed this sounded convincing, as he was covered with garbage from half the street.

So where is the monster now? said the older man, sheathing his sword with practised ease.

The Shadowmaker, spat the knight with sudden venom. He came to rescue his creature, and they both disappeared into the shadow realm before I could close with them.

I see. The older man’s face was grim, but Ivan saw an intelligent mind working behind his eyes. You, he looked at Ivan. What is your name?

Uh, Ivan, said Ivan. I was just…passing by. Idiot! How is that an alibi?

The older knight’s sword was suddenly in his hand again as he strode toward Ivan. Intruders are not tolerated here. The penalty for trespassing on our affairs is death.

Ivan tried not to roll his eyes at this. It’s like I’ve stumbled into another historical reenactment. Still, he felt the chill of danger. The man’s eyes had a steely focus. Unlike the Viking crew, these guys have magic swords. They know more about what’s going on than I do. I had better tread carefully here.

I was happy to help. I’ll just be going then…

The older knight ignored him and turned to the first knight Ivan had met. Do you vouch for this one? he pointed his glowing sword at Ivan, and Ivan resisted the urge to step away from it. It looked laser sharp. Like an Arthurian lightsaber.

I do, said the knight. His voice took on the formal tones of a ceremony. Or an oath.

The older knight sighed. On your head be it, he muttered. Then he raised his voice. Then I declare that Ivan is your charge and sole responsibility. He shook his head and sheathed his sword again. I’ll see you both on Monday, 9 am sharp. Fall out!

A sudden whir made Ivan look up. Above them, a small drone hovered. Its tiny lights flashed, and Ivan was sure he was being photographed. The older knight strode back down the alley, waving his hand in a circular motion at the rest of the knights. They remounted their bikes, and with a roar of engines, the alleyway was empty except for Ivan and the unknown knight.

What the hell was that about? asked Ivan.

The knight whirled and kicked a can back down the alleyway, its tinny sound echoing around them as it bounced into the gutter. He growled in frustration.

It means, Ivan, you idiot, that I’ve stuck my neck out for you, and now you’re going to ruin everything! As per usual!

Hey, what the hell?

The knight didn’t answer. Instead, he popped a clasp on his neck and pulled off his helmet, shaking out white-blonde hair. He turned to face Ivan, gaze sardonic.

Owen, said Ivan.

Owen. His best friend all through childhood. The son of the man who’d tried to kill him. And the person whose betrayal had nearly cost Ivan his life.

And damned if his first reaction wasn’t delight, followed by anger, followed by dismay as he smelled the fresh aroma of reeking trash dripping off his jacket. Not how I pictured our reunion.

Yes, Owen, said the knight, his voice sharp enough to cut. How nice to see you again, Ivan. He stalked into the shadows to pick up his lance.

Nice to see you too. Quite a gig you got going on here.

Owen’s handsome face twisted in a sneer. A gig. What do you think this is, a sort of advanced cosplay?

Ivan was about to make a smart remark when Owen’s sword leapt out, halting a millimetre from Ivan’s throat. This close, he could feel the hum of power from the blade. That sword could cut a shadow. Also, he’s fast. I barely saw that coming.

I vouched for you, Ivan. If I hadn’t, those knights would have killed you in the name of protecting the Borderlands of London. It would have been quick and painless, but you would have never made it home. You owe me, Ivan.

No, breathed Ivan. If that’s true, I reckon this makes us about even.

Owen blinked, and the sword wavered slightly in his hands.

Ivan stepped back from the sword and crossed his arms. I just want to go home and sleep. Forget this ever happened.

I appreciate you covering for me, Owen, he said levelly. Seems like you’ve made some interesting friends in London. I’m going home now. Let’s never do this again, ever.

Owen’s mouth stretched in a smile that never touched his eyes. That’s where you’ve got it all wrong, Ivan. What you just stumbled into, this… his arm swept around the alley, his glowing armour, the gleaming black motorcycle, Is a whole new ballgame for you. And now you’re in, there’s no backing out. I mean it. His face was deadly serious. I vouched for you. If you cut and run, it’ll be my head on the chopping block.

Not again. It said a lot for Ivan’s state of mind that stumbling on a secret order of shining knights in London just made him feel tired. Been there, done that, bought the frigging T-shirt. He rubbed his eyes.

So what, this is like a...secret society? Can’t be worse than the one Anders and I stumbled on last summer.

Yes, said Owen shortly. His pale hair was damp with sweat from his helmet, but it still fell in a style fit for a movie star. You saw the shadow beast. We protect our world from dark creatures. And now you’re a part of it. Congratulations. Heavy irony dripped from that last word.

Huh. Sorry to rain on your parade, Owen, but I already have a life. Uni studies, campus life, part-time job on the way. And hopefully a love life too. I suppose I could fit your lot in around my other commitments, but truthfully, I can’t be arsed.

Owen’s laugh was sinister. That’s what you think. You’ll find out how the Order works, Ivan. The hard way. This is going to be fun.

He shouldered the glowing spear and strode back to his gleaming motorbike. I’ll see you Monday, 9 am. Don’t be late.

Ivan thought of asking for more details, then didn’t. Because I’m not going to their stupid meeting. I didn’t ask for this, and I’m not about to have my life bulldozed into someone else’s plans. Again.

Owen straddled the motorbike and ducked his head as he organised his helmet straps. Silhouetted against the streetlight, he looked like one of the statues in Westminster Abbey: straight nose, fine features, aquiline profile, the face of a young warrior knight who’d somehow wandered into the twenty-first century. Then he pulled his helmet on, kicked the engine into life, and roared away, the back wheel of his bike throwing unidentified muck into Ivan’s face as he left.

Ivan stood there in the gloom, feeling blood trickle down his knee where he’d scraped it. He wiped mud off his face and flicked it onto the pavement.

The hand he pushed through his thick black hair came away smelling faintly of garbage. Eau de London. What. The. Hell. Just. Happened?

4

Ivan walked back out the alleyway. Chasing the shadow creature had taken him far outside his usual route home, and it was close to midnight. Underground’s going to be closed by the time I get down there. I guess it’s the night bus or walk home.

Briefly, Ivan thought about making a shadow portal to get home. But the way things had been going lately, it was a bad idea. Because I have no idea where it’d take me and what kind of attention it would draw.

And Owen! What the hell is he doing with a bevvy of shining knights? On motorbikes! I guess London is weirder than I knew. Just like my home town. Oh, wait. Maybe I’m the common factor?

Ivan trudged down the lane, looking for a familiar landmark. The night was colder, the dampness from the street seeping into his bones. He kept looking around for signs of the Wolf. When he tried to sense it, he got a dim feeling it was away to the North. At this rate, the Wolf will probably make it home before me.

Finally, Ivan recognised the A501, and from there, it was a straight run down Hampstead Road to Camden, where the usual homeless crew crouched in the underpass. Ivan searched his pockets for change but found only empty chewing gum wrappers.

Psst! Ivan! The whisper came from a figure wrapped in a tattered brown blanket. The blanket was shaggy, and for a moment, it looked like the bearskins worn by Roman centurions. Then the man inside it moved, and Ivan saw it was just a cheap polyester throw rug.

Oy! Shadow boy!

With a sigh, Ivan walked over and leaned against the tiled tunnel wall. Usually, he’d be careful where he leaned, but right now, his jacket was about as clean as the street.

How’s things, Cal?

Cal grinned, showing surprisingly even white teeth. When he smiled, he looked far younger than the filthy beard and ragged clothes suggested.

Want a smoke, lad? Cal rolled a cigarette on the inside lid of his tobacco box, his hands deft in their fingerless gloves.

I’m good, thanks. Ivan stuck his hands in his pockets. He’d gotten warm from walking fast but was cooling down again.

Where’s your Raven?

Cal was one of the few people who noticed the Raven was, well, a Raven. Most people seemed to think it was a sort of black parrot. It wasn’t ignorance. Ivan was sure the Raven (or maybe himself) did a thing so that people’s eyes slid off it. But not Cal’s.

Right now, though, the bearded man’s eyes were dreamy. They saw right through him, or maybe saw something else entirely.

The Raven’s at home, I think. Unless it went for a flight around town.

Cal hummed. One like that should be out and about more. ‘Specially now it’s cold.

Yes, I know it’s cold, Cal. Thanks for reminding me. Ivan’s eyes adjusted to the low light, and now he saw a small stack of items next to Cal’s pile of blankets. There was an expensive-looking rain jacket, neatly folded, and on top of it, a small travel toothbrush and a shaving kit. Everything was brand new, still in its wrappers.

You got new deliveries, he said, pointing at the items. I’m glad I’m not the only one looking out for Cal.

For a moment, Cal looked desperately sad, and Ivan immediately regretted mentioning the gifts. He changed the subject. Gotten any good songs lately? Cal collected poems and songs like a magpie. He’d once recited the first fifty stanzas of the Iliad before Ivan managed to escape.

A few, a few. And you, shadow boy. Keeping up with your studies? Cal held the finished cigarette up to light it, revealing a raven in flight engraved on the lid of his silver tobacco box.