Copyright © 2017 T.W.Iain. All rights reserved
Cover designed by Joshua Jadon joshuajadon.com
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited.
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By TW Iain
Shadows
Shadowfall (Book One)
Shadowsiege (Book Two)—coming soon
Shadowstrike (Book Three)—coming 2018
Shadowlair (A Shadows Prologue)—Mailing list exclusive novella
Dominions
Dark Glass (Dominions I)
Dead Flesh (Dominions II)
Deep Water (Dominions III)
Gatekeeper (A Dominions Prologue)—Free short story
Control (A Dominions Story)—Mailing list exclusive novella
Expedient (A Dominions Story)
The hunger was never far away.
The creature had fed recently, back in one of the other caves. It had opened the wound and sucked eagerly, taking in as much as it could. Others had been waiting for their turn, and it would have fought them if they approached. But they didn’t interrupt. They knew it needed the energy, for what it was about to do.
But the food supply was tainted, the source already weakened. And that was why the creature pushed through the caves, so dark and cold and perfect. That was why the creature explored.
They needed more food.
The creature moved through the blackness with ease, and even when the tunnel fell away, the creature climbed as fast as it walked.
The tunnel opened into a cave. The air was different, rich with the smell of vegetation, and it blew cool against the creature’s hide. The darkness was no longer all-consuming, and the creature hesitated. But it took a step forward anyway. The shadows allowed that much.
It sniffed, and turned its attention to the outside. The atmosphere was heavy with moisture, but it sensed life, far below. That would be the large forest creatures. They would do in an emergency, but their blood was sickly, and the energy it gave was short-lived.
But there was another trace rising from the forest, and although it was distant, the scent was familiar. It rekindled the hunger, and the creature salivated.
A fresh supply of food approached, and that excited the creature almost to distraction. It yearned to sink its fangs into flesh. It craved the sharp, bitter taste hitting the back of its throat. It relished the feeling of power that would cascade through its body.
It inched closer to the opening of the cave, and could have climbed down. The clouds were heavy, and the trees were tall enough to provide shelter if they could be reached with speed. But it knew the benefits of patience. It knew about stealth. It wasn’t some dumb animal, like the large forest beasts.
And so it retreated, back into the shadows. And it waited.
The Proteus lurched to starboard, and the seat restraints bit into Brice’s shoulders. Again.
“How we holding up, Keelin?” Cathal asked, from his seat at the back of the bridge. If Brice turned to look at his commander, he knew the face would be as emotionless as the voice.
“Not enjoying this,” Keelin said as she rolled the craft to starboard. Brice switched his lenses to the internal sensor and saw her grimace, glazed eyes half hidden by strands of hair. Her hands curled round the ends of the armrests in concentration.
“How long?”
“An hour plus.” There was a whine from the engines. “Plus a lot, the way this storm’s growing.”
Over an hour stuck to his chair on this rust-bucket. Brice couldn’t wait to get back to Haven.
“You finished your report yet, Brice?”
“Almost.”
“No time like the present.”
Brice nodded. The others had probably finished ages ago, reports all filed and ready for collation. But Brice hadn’t even started, and Cathal must know that. But what could he add?
He pulled the file up through his lattice, the blank page filling his lenses. He stared at it for a moment, then recorded the bare facts. Fly out, land next to the abandoned Proteus. Start investigation, but nothing of interest on the craft besides a removed panel. No clear reason for this. Ryann tracked the missing crew into the forest, up to the edge of the gully. The trail headed down, following a line of bolts. There was no rope. Ryann said she couldn’t detect anyone nearby.
Cathal called the search off. With the increasing storm, climbing down was a risk he was unprepared to take. They returned to their own Proteus, and headed home.
Tris moaned about being cold and wet the whole time, of course. Brice was tempted to put that in his report, but he knew Cathal would remove it. He’d say the company wasn’t interested in such pettiness, but Brice knew it would reflect poorly on Cathal himself. It wouldn’t do for a commander to have dissension in the ranks.
The company had an image to uphold, after all.
“Tris, you patched in?” asked Cathal.
As crew tech, Tris sat next to the pilot—some hold-over from ancient times, apparently. Of course, Tris could work from anywhere through his lattice, and there was no need for him to sit up front. All it did was stroke his ego.
Tris swivelled his chair to face Cathal, and ran a hand over the clumps of hair he called a beard. “Signal reach to Haven’s fluctuating between six and ten bars. I’ve tried routing through freq-mod, but atmos gamma’s running at seventeen per, so that’s a no-go.”
Typical data-drivel. Brice snorted. “You mean you can’t reach Haven?”
“Think you could do any better?” Tris’ jaw clenched, and he tried to look imposing. Brice wanted to laugh.
“Keep it civil, boys,” said Cathal, stern but bored. “Tris, keep trying. Brice, if you’ve finished your report, send it to Ryann.”
“Sending now.”
He had the file on auto-push anyway. He re-read the few sparse sentences, decided it would do, and signed off. His lattice pinged when Ryann received it.
“Thanks,” she said, her voice as soft as usual, and Brice gave her a nod. She sat in the chair across from him, her eyes glazed and her face serene.
Brice still wasn’t sure
