Garen was no longer focused on Muffin, but was staring behind me. I know he saw Lochlan, who currently had a possessive arm around my waist. Geez, he might as well piss on me to stake his claim. Muffin licked Garen, who laughed, breaking the tense mood.
“Come in. You wouldn’t come all this way for a social call,” said Garen. “And you’re in luck since my next customer isn’t for another thirty minutes.”
Garen led us to his side room. It was the same room where my sacrifice to Livinia, a.k.a., the chinchilla had escaped. It felt different this time.
“So what brings you here?” asked Garen.
“I wanted to check if you heard back from the other rune mages about the shadowy tattoos that move.”
Garen started pacing and didn’t stop as he started talking.
“You never said anything about shadows before. That’s different than the moving runes you described.”
“Does that mean you can help us?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. Let me check a book I have. I’ll be right back.”
He came back carrying a dusty and ancient tome. The title was faded, but the letters I could make out didn’t look like English.
“You have a copy of the Book of Shadows?” asked Lochlan.
“You’re familiar with the dark arts, then?” asked Garen.
“Not familiar. There aren’t enough lifetimes to truly be familiar with it. But, I have a passing knowledge of it. I didn’t connect that to what Marty saw, but it makes sense,” said Lochlan.
“Are either of you going to explain what you both know that I don’t? And since when do either of you dabble in the dark arts, Lochlan?” I asked.
“Rune Mages are practitioners of the dark arts. That’s how we use blood and symbols to grant people access to the spells, powers, and protections of the runes we tattoo on them,” explained Garen.
“I already knew that. How does this relate to the shadow runes or whatever it is we’ve seen?” I asked.
“Before I give you my thoughts on that, can you tell me more about the mage wearing these runes?” asked Garen.
I squirmed. I wasn’t about to spill my guts and tell him how monstrous my father was. And, I knew nothing about his recent activities. I’d tell him what I could. Hopefully, Lochlan noticed my intentional omission of certain details and take the hint that I only wanted Garen to know parts of the story.
“This mage is someone we’ve encountered again recently. He’s a strong magic user and has magic similar to what the Crimson Fiend had.”
“That’s very bad,” said Garen.
“He was surrounded in shadows that blurred his body and mingled with the runes. I think that’s what made them move or appear to move,” I said.
Garen took a deep breath. “Okay, what do you know about shadows and the Shadow Realm?” he asked.
“Nothing beyond the obvious. I’ve always known shadows to be the protections of people and objects that are cast in light. Something tells me there’s a lot more to it than that.” I patted Muffin, so Garen didn’t see the lie in my eyes, “And, I don’t know a single thing about the Shadow Realm,” I said.
Garen opened the book in his hand and paged through it before stopping.
“I’m going to read you a passage that I believe you need to hear, but before I do, I’ll need a blood oath from each of you. I want you to swear to never speak of what I reveal from this book or about the shadows.”
“Yes,” said Lochlan without hesitation. Did he always have to be the agreeable one? This was important, but I didn’t want an oath keeping me from using this information against my father.
“That’s a bit extreme. Why do we need a blood oath?” I asked.
Even as children, all supernatural creatures were warned against the spilling their blood and the risks with doing a blood oath. Blood held so much more than the iron-rich nutrients that fueled our bodies. For any supernatural, it also contained the source of our magic.
By swearing this blood oath would bind Lochlan and me from speaking of whatever Garen told us. If we broke this oath, there were dire consequences, which usually resulted in death.
“It’s one hundred percent needed. I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t think it was. I know you’re not comfortable with this Marty. And, I hate making you feel that way, but this is how it has to be,” said Garen.
Lochlan pulled out a knife and slit his palm, Garen and I did the same. We repeated the ritual words that created the blood oath. Please don’t let me be making a mistake.
“The Book of Shadows was written during a time of turmoil and bloodshed. It was entrusted into the care of a select group to preserve this knowledge, so it wouldn’t be forgotten should the shadow threat rise again.”
“Why doesn’t anyone know this?” I asked.
“Because as much as the book was written in case this started happening again, the writers of the book hoped it was a time that would never come to pass. It’s been thousands of years and as time passes, the fear lessened. It makes people complacent.”
“Are you saying this book talks about this mage?” I asked.
“You know books aren’t that obvious, Marty. They leave a trail of bread crumbs to follow. Here is the passage I thought of: ‘When the bindings of the world weaken, a great evil shall rise. The merging of shadows starts the beginning of the end. And, the shadows shall rejoice in the reign of unleashed darkness.’ With more time, I can find more references. I’ll keep checking.”
“What about the shadows at the Sisterhood?” I asked. I figured they were different since they weren’t the true shadow creatures according to Zander. I wanted to rule out that connection.
“Since when do they have shadows. Are you sure?”
“I couldn’t be more sure. I was covered in scratches and bruises.”
The doorbell rang.
“And, I’m out of time. I’m sorry, but that’s my customer. There are no good or safe shadow creatures. If
