Shadowlark

clear again, all signs of the dark grey veins and semitranslucent flesh gone. Long, fair eyelashes, stubborn jaw, sandy hair that fell wildly over his forehead.

Despite the evidence of my eyes five minutes ago, it was nearly impossible to believe he was a monster, looking at him now. I tried to remind myself that no matter how human he seemed when he was feeding off my magic, he was a shadow and always would be. The moment he left my side, he’d become mindless, dark, and hungry. The moment I ran out of magic to keep him human, I’d be dead.

My mind was blank. I’d thought I would never see this boy again. Or, at the very least, if I did, he’d kill me before I had a chance to figure out what I thought of him.

I’ll find you. His last words to me hung so vividly in the air that for a moment, I thought he’d woken up and spoken. Even in the dark, you shine.“My pack.”

I jerked away from my inspection of Oren’s face and turned to see Tansy, half-propped awkwardly against the wall, one eye swollen shut and her arm still dangling uselessly at her side.

“My pack,” she moaned again. “I need my pack. I need my pack.”

I left Oren’s side and crouched, fumbling with the straps of my own pack in my haste to take it off. I knew what she needed. To regenerate magic required energy, and that required food.

“Your pack’s in the house, Tansy. But I have food here. See, look—cheese. Take it.”

But she shoved my hands away, trying to stand. “No—my pack. I need it.”

“Tansy!” I hissed, trying not to shout and alert any other shadows who might be nearby. “We can’t go back. We have to leave it. Even if the shadows didn’t return there, we can’t get past those barricades and we can’t climb up to that window to get back inside.” I reached out and took her good shoulder, giving her a squeeze. “It’s gone. Accept that. We have to keep moving, we can’t stay here.”

She’d started to shiver, and I realized I had too. Neither of us had had time to grab our jackets before fleeing the building. If we didn’t find shelter, and soon, then Tansy’s shock was going to be the least of our worries.

I heard a familiar sound and straightened, letting Tansy slump back again. A weight lifted, letting me take my first full breath since the Molly-shadow had lunged for me. Nix came winging fitfully up the alley, the grind of its gears harsh and irregular. I moved toward it and held out my hands. It shifted midair, spiky form reverting to that of a bee, and dropped gratefully into my palms.

“I followed them,” it said, voice unusually tinny. “They’re gone, they didn’t turn around to come back. That one scared them off.” Its blue eyes turned to the motionless form lying unconscious in the middle of the alley.

“And you?” I whispered, lifting my hands so I could try and inspect the pixie in the meager moonlight. “Are you okay?”

“I will require some time to repair myself, but I will soon be fully functional.” Already I saw it shifting, tiny needlelike arms emerging to begin bending damaged panels and pieces back into the correct shapes.

“Thank you.” Carefully I transferred the little machine to my shoulder. “You saved us.”

It clicked with irritation as it inspected my torn earlobe. “Keep Lark alive,” it said absently, dismissively, in its programmer’s voice. Kris’s voice. I tried to ignore the surge of hurt and confusion that sound brought and turned back for Tansy.

“We can’t stay here, Tansy. Can you walk? Did you eat?”

She took a bite of the cheese, uninterested but following orders. Only after she swallowed did a little spark return to her eyes as she discovered her appetite. She finished the rest ravenously and licked her fingertips.

“Your arm?”

“I think my shoulder’s dislocated,” Tansy said with a grimace, picking herself up with some difficulty, but managing to get to her feet on her own power. I was never so functional after my own experiences with having my power harvested from me.

“What do we do?”

“Pop it back in.” Though the grin she flashed at me was nearly feral with exhaustion and pain, it was still Tansy’s grin, and a second wave of relief washed over me. We could do this. Recover. Survive. Find a way out of this cursed city.

“Tell me what to do.”

By the time it was done, I was the one who had to stagger away and put my head between my knees, sweating and trying not to throw up. I could still feel the scrape and pop of bone under my hands radiating through me like the scratch of nails on a schoolroom chalkboard.

When I felt more sure I wasn’t about to lose the dinner I’d eaten not two hours before, I helped Tansy make a sling for her arm. She’d regained a little color in her face, but it was clear her arm wasn’t going to be useful for some time.

“My bow is outside the house,” Tansy said, remembering. “Not inside. They made me leave it. We can go back for it.”

“No. You can’t draw it like that,” I said, nodding at her arm. “It’d be useless.”

“But—it’s my bow.” She was staring at me like I’d suggested she leave one of her legs behind.

“I know. But Tansy—it’s just a thing. If we go back that way we risk the family finding us again. What if the entire city is full of people who turn into shadows at night? That whole street will be full of shadows trying to break through their own doors to get to us.”

She shook her head, closing her eyes.

“Your bow, your pack—they’re just things. You’re what’s important. You can make another bow, another pack. But there’s only one you, and I need you.”

“Would you be saying that if it were your pack? If it was Oren’s knife, or your brother’s bird, back there?”

I bit my lip, but nodded. “Yes. I would leave them behind.”

Tansy swallowed, the fingers of her good hand twisted so tightly together that the knuckles gleamed white in the moonlight.

“We need to move,” I whispered, taking that for agreement. “We have to wake Oren.”

Tansy’s jaw tightened, and her eyes moved past me. I knew she was looking at Oren’s unconscious form in the middle of the alley.

“Leave it,” she said, coldly. “It’s just a monster.”

I fought the urge to clench my own jaw. “Tansy, you saw those people in there. They didn’t know. None of them know. Oren may be the first self-aware shadow ever, and only because I told him. When they’re human, they’re human. You sat at their hearth, ate their food, told them stories.”

“And they betrayed us.” Tansy’s lips pressed together in pain and determination, confusion and fear.

“It’s not betrayal when you don’t know,” I insisted, moving so that I’d be in her line of sight, force her to meet my gaze. “They knew something happened at night. They thought we would be safest indoors. They were doing their best.”

“There’s no forgiveness for betrayal,” muttered Tansy, looking away.

I groaned. “We don’t have time for this. Help me get him up.”

“No.”

I sucked in a deep breath. “If you want to come with me, then he comes too. It’s that simple.”

Tansy’s eyes flicked from me to the unconscious Oren and back again. After a long pause, she sniffed briskly and nodded. “All right. Wake him up.”

She got to her feet as I crossed back to Oren and gave him a shake. He didn’t move—not even a groan. I called his name, shook him some more, pinched the skin on his arm, and—in desperation—slapped him across the cheek. Nothing.

“Lark,” Tansy breathed.

“I know what you’re going to say. I can’t leave him. He saved us.”

“No—Lark—” She reached down and touched her fingertips to my shoulder.

Something about her touch triggered an alarm at the back of my mind, and I tore my gaze away from Oren’s long eyelashes.