Chapter Ten

Her Royal Shadowyness

 

The next morning, Aiden found himself on a boat crossing the East River. At the wheel was Siegfried.

“So, you never did find Larry?” Siegfried barked, asking him the same series of questions for what seemed like the millionth time.

“No,” Aiden shook his head.

“Or Steve?”

“He disappeared without a trace, and I haven’t been able to get a hold of him. Do you think…” Aiden paused to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. “Do you think Mr. Midnight took him?”

“That would be unprecedented. I don’t know Lickerman all that well, but judging by what you say about him, he probably just got scared and bugged out.” Aiden nodded. That would be like Steve. “You know, if you’d told me what was going on right away, I might have been able to get to Larry in time.” Siegfried glared at Aiden.

“I know. I messed up. I’m sorry.” After Aiden had gotten Ann and Josh home safely, he’d received a very irate call from Siegfried. Cleo had spilled the beans about Larry. Aiden wasn’t sure if she’d caved to the pressure that is Siegfried, given in to her undeniable urge to gossip, or simply forgotten that she wasn’t supposed to tell.

“At least the Coopers bought your story about the car accident,” Siegfried snarled. “You didn’t totally screw things up there.”

Aiden nodded again. He’d come up with a tale about running some errands, then calling Ann and asking her to bring Josh to him so they could have some “guy time” to bond. According to the story, Ann got in a cab to return home, the cabbie pulled out right into traffic, and a fender bender resulted. The cuts on her forearms were explained away as injuries she received during the accident. Since Aiden had been at the “scene,” he brought Ann home after they talked to the police. That part was somewhat true; Aiden had talked to Office Huff. Jennifer and Robert had taken enough taxi rides to believe a story about unsafe drivers. They were very concerned about Ann, and they didn’t even know the full extent of her injuries.

“So, why are we going to…what island is it, again?” Aiden asked, trying to wrench his mind from the scared look in Ann’s eyes when she didn’t know what to make for breakfast earlier that morning.

“North Brother Island. It’s a wraith sanctuary.”

Aiden looked at Siegfried. “A wraith sanctuary?”

“They’re supposedly a protected magical species.”

“What do you mean, ‘supposedly’?”

“Well, you’ve seen what Mr. Midnight can do. Does he seem like someone who needs protection?”

Aiden thought back to his training with Frank, the only time he’d gone up against a wraith one-on-one, and he’d barely held his own. And, since it was just training, he suspected that Frank had been holding back. Werewolves were supposed to be one of the few species that could match a wraith physically. Then there was the state of the office after the attack on Cleo. It looked like there had been an explosion. On top of it all was Mr. Midnight’s ability to drain powers, something Aiden had never heard of before.

“Unless Mr. Midnight is atypical of his species, it almost seems like we need protection against them,” said Aiden with a chuckle. The chuckling died away as Aiden realized this might be true. Perhaps this was the real reason the wraiths were on the island.

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” said Siegfried. It sounded more like an affirmation than a question.

“So, has anyone been out here yet? You know, to ask about Mr. Midnight?”

Siegfried nodded. “That’s how we ended up with Frank. Someone somewhere decided that we needed a ‘volunteer’ to help us. So they brought him back, but I don’t think he was too crazy about the idea. He’s done a great job so far, though.”

The boat puttered along, Siegfried making minute adjustments to the wheel while Aiden looked over the side, wondering what sort of fish were in the river, how easy they might be to catch, and what sort of illnesses he would get by eating one.

“Almost there.” Siegfried’s call drew Aiden’s attention from the river. He looked up and saw the forested island drawing near at a rapid pace. A bit too rapid. He gripped his seat and gritted his teeth, anticipating the collision with the dock.

The collision didn’t occur. The dock, designed for a much larger vessel, rested several feet over his head. Siegfried piloted the boat past its rotting structure and went toward the beach. With a forward jolt, the boat came to rest partially on the sand. Siegfried leapt from the boat and tied it to a thick wooden post. When Aiden didn’t move, he said, “You coming or were you going to wait here for me?”

With two bounding strides, Aiden crossed the small boat and followed Siegfried down onto the beach. Through gaps in the trees, he saw what remained of several large, brick buildings. They hadn’t been used in decades. The roofs were caved in, the windowpanes were broken, and there were even large sections of walls missing. Without a word, Siegfried set off in the direction of the buildings.

Aiden had grown up in the country. He was far more at home surrounded by the calming green of nature than the concrete and steel of the city. He should have felt at ease among the island’s trees, even though he was approaching Mr. Midnight’s original home. It took a minute, but he realized what was wrong. It was too quiet. There were no birds singing or small animals scurrying around in the bushes. Just to verify, Aiden took a deep breath through his nose. The only living things he could smell were the plants, trees, and Siegfried.

“Something’s wrong with this place,” said Aiden as he came to a stop.

“You noticed it. Good,” replied Siegfried, not stopping for an instant. “Nothing will live on this island. Except snakes.”

“Titanoboas?”

“No, just the regular little ones.” Siegfried glanced over his shoulder. “You better hurry up. They don’t like it when you’re late.”

Aiden picked up his pace, jogging to reach Siegfried’s side just as they arrived at a doorway, its door long since rotted and lying in a soft, decaying heap.

“Visitors for the Nosbanon,” called Siegfried once they entered and stood in a musty foyer.

For several seconds, nothing happened. Or, at least, Aiden didn’t think anything happened. He realized that the shadows were creeping along the wall, slowly getting closer. His hands went into his pockets, reassured by the Sunguard gauntlets they held.

“Prompt as usual,” came a whispering voice. “She will see you.”

Two of the shadows peeled themselves from the wall and took a semi-three-dimensional form. They walked side by side toward a hole in the floor. Siegfried followed, and Aiden followed him. As Aiden came closer to the hole, he saw that it was the top of a spiral staircase. Its railing had fallen off at some point and gotten wedged inside the steps, hanging suspended in air.

With each step, the metal treads moved slightly, though they shouldn’t have moved at all. Aiden took each step carefully, expecting the rusting treads to fall away if he put too much weight on them.

Down and down they went, two floors below ground, until Aiden found himself in a large, open, rectangular room with exquisite, if muted with age, murals painted on the walls. Holes in the ceiling let some light in from above. Not a lot of light, just enough for a regular human like Siegfried to walk around without tripping over stuff.

The two wraiths led them to the opposite end of the room. There, on a platform raised a foot above the floor, was a throne. Well, it was an old wheelchair, rusted immobile with age and bedazzled with all sorts of shiny (tarnished now, but shiny once upon a time) objects you might find in a hospital. For example, an assortment of long syringes stuck up from the wheelchair’s back. They were arranged in a circle, like a halo of light. Less impressive, hanging off one arm was a bedpan.

From the vicinity of the throne came a voice. “Come closer.”

It was the same wraith-type voice Aiden had heard in the past, but this one was a little different. It was a little higher and softer. It was, he decided, a female voice.

As they got closer to the throne, it became clear where the voice had come from. It hadn’t been visible from a distance, but Aiden could now see the shadow shape sitting in the wheelchair throne.

Siegfried dropped to one knee and drooped his head. Aiden followed suit, supposing this was the right way to greet her.

“I thought I’d see you before now. And you have brought me someone new,” she said.

Rising, Siegfried said, “Yes. This is Aiden Lynch. Aiden, this is Stelo Cysgod, the queen of the wraiths.”

Aiden stood as he was introduced. His eyes darted from Siegfried to the queen and back again. Siegfried tilted his head almost imperceptibly at the queen, which didn’t help Aiden figure out what he was supposed to do. It was his first time meeting any sort of royalty, Real or Imaginary, in a gold-gilded throne room or decaying hospital basement. At a loss, he tried to act as he would upon meeting any new person, though he tried to put a little more dignity into his voice. Taking a step forward and extending a hand, he said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“What is he doing?” Aiden couldn’t decide whether there was shock or disgust, or both, in her voice.

“He’s being polite,” said Siegfried.

“Does he think he’s my equal?” asked the queen, the last word definitely coming out with surprise attached to it.

“It seems so,” said Siegfried matter-of-factly.

“And he is Imaginary?”

“Yes.”

Stelo leaned forward and tilted her head as she studied Aiden. At least, Aiden thought she was studying him. Not able to see her eyes, she could have been staring in any direction.

“Your Highness, I’m sorry if I offended you,” said Aiden.

“He’s apologizing?”

“Yes, he is,” said Siegfried. “Sincerely too.”

“Yes, I can tell.” Stelo settled back in her wheelchair. The surprise had left her voice, replaced by delight.

Again, Aiden looked back and forth between Siegfried and Stelo. “I’m sorry, am I missing something?”

“Indeed you are, my boy,” said Stelo. “You are missing the superior, self-important manner of those who usually come calling. They are condescending at best, insulting at worst. Look around. Look at where we are kept. We wraiths are considered lesser beings by most Imaginary visitors.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” said Aiden.

“Sorry? You have no need to apologize for the discourtesy of others, Aiden.”

Siegfried cleared his throat. “Aiden here is helping to track down our wayward wraith.”

“Wizard?” asked Stelo.

“Werewolf.”

“Ah, yes. I should have guessed they would be used. Mira and I…we go back a very long way. All the way back to the beginning, actually. Do you know our story?”

Aiden shook his head. “No, I don’t think I do.”

Stelo’s head turned to Siegfried and tilted to the side. “Have you not told him of his lineage?”

“I have not.”

Something that sounded like a sigh escaped Stelo. “You of all people should understand that the boy deserves to know where he comes from. And what she intends for him.”

“It’s my job,” said Siegfried, a bit of anger seeping into his voice, “to see that he does just the opposite.”

“But he has already been drawn into our ancient war.”

“No, he’s just tracking down one wayward wraith.”

Aiden’s eyes followed the conversation. He had asked about the nature and history of werewolves, but Siegfried had always managed to avoid answering, claiming that the past wasn’t as important as the present. Now Aiden saw that the past and the present were the same. An excitement started building up inside him as he felt that he was about to get some answers.

With another sigh, Stelo gave a shrug and said, “I suppose it is your choice.” Her tone suggested that the matter would be put to rest, causing Aiden’s anticipation to vanish in an instant. “Anyway, Edgar, I don’t see what further help I can be. I have been questioned ad nauseum by countless people already.”

Aiden shot a quick, questioning glance at Siegfried at the mention of this other name. A frowning shake of the head in reply told him not to ask any questions about this. Ever.

“But not by Aiden,” said Siegfried. “He’s on the front line of this fight. You have no idea how many hoops I had to jump through to get permission to bring him out here.”

Queen Stelo put her hands together, blending into one shadowy lump, in her lap. “Very well. Aiden, what do you wish to know?”

He hadn’t been told why they were coming to the island, only that it would be enlightening. Aiden had no questions prepared. The one that jumped first to his mind was something he had wondered often over the past few months. “Um, we keep calling him Mr. Midnight. What’s his real name?”

Stelo’s head moved in a way that made Aiden think she was nodding. “Interesting,” she said. “The usual first question is how to stop him or how to trace him. In fact, I don’t believe anyone has ever asked his true name. They are content to call him by that silly nickname.” She drifted off into silence.

After several quiet seconds, Aiden said, “His name?”

“Oh. Yes. His name is Markus. Markus Cysgod.”

“Cysgod? Is he related to you?”

Stelo motioned around the room. Aiden’s gaze followed, and he saw that where there had recently been two wraiths, their escorts down the stairs, there were now more than a dozen. His hands drifted again toward his pockets and the gauntlets.

“They are all my sons and daughters,” she said, “in a manner of speaking. Our ways are rather…complicated.”

“Okay,” said Aiden. “The last thing we need right now is more complication, so I guess we can skip over that one.”

She stood from her wheelchair and floated down from the platform, motioning for Aiden to walk with her. When Siegfried took a step to join them, she said, “I would speak alone with Aiden for now.”

“Yeah, we’ll be right back,” said Aiden. “Edgar,” he added, suspecting from the look he received that this would be the only chance he’d ever have to use that name.

The two walked through decrepit hallways and dilapidated rooms, lit only by the occasional flickering candle, in silence until they passed through one last set of swinging double doors, emerging into a pristine garden. The ceilings and floors above had all either collapsed or been removed on purpose. They were two levels underground, but the bright sky could be seen overhead. Aiden looked around at the neat flowerbeds intersected by cobblestone paths. Not one weed invaded the tidy beds of sunflowers, lilies, daisies, and many varieties that Aiden didn’t recognize. In the middle of the garden, where the meandering paths intersected, were two stone benches. Someone had gone to a lot of effort to care for this garden, which was incongruous with the rest of the decrepit hospital.

“I have given all the information I can about how to catch a wraith,” said Stelo, strolling along with her wispy hand extended, brushing leaves and flowers as she passed. “I’m not sure how much more I can help.”

Neither did Aiden. He had assumed that he was given all relevant information, but the fact that Siegfried insisted on coming here suggested otherwise.

“Um, let’s see. I guess I know enough about fighting wraiths. Frank’s been a big help,” Aiden said, noticing a slight hesitation in Stelo’s pace when he said this.

“Ah, yes. How is Frank?”

“Fine. He’s fine.”

Stelo came to a stop in front of a plant that stood taller than Aiden, its bright red flowers giving it the impression of an overgrown poinsettia. She plucked off one of the red petals and raised it to her face. It disappeared into an unseen mouth. Another petal was taken and held out toward Aiden.

He raised a hand and said, “No, thank you.”

With a shrug, Stelo ate the second petal as well. After a moment, she asked, “What do you know of our history?”

“Not much.” Aiden gave a shrug of his own.

“It goes back very far. Back to Mira, in fact.”

The former feeling of anticipation sprang to life as the subject was brought up again. “Can you tell me about her?”

Stelo paused. Aiden had the feeling that he was being examined closely.

“I am afraid Edgar is correct,” she said with a hint of sadness in her voice. “It is his place, not mine, to decide upon your education. But allow me to enlighten you regarding my people. Perhaps it will help. Long ago, we traveled about the forests of England—before that place had such a name, in fact—communing with nature and enjoying the peacefulness of the green, growing things that are so dear to our kind. In time, humans came to our lands. However, our attempts to coexist with these beings did not go as well as we’d hoped.” Stelo looked down at the third red petal, which she’d plucked from the plant as she’d talked. She let the petal fall to the stone path.

“What happened?” Aiden asked.

“Many things happened. None of them good.”

Stelo resumed her stroll along the path, Aiden at her side. “After a time, we were forced onto an island just off the southern coast of England.”

“Wait,” Aiden interrupted. “Isn’t that the Isle of Wight?”

“Yes,” Stelo answered. “Wight, of course, being another term for ‘wraith.’ There have been many stories over the years of how this island got its name. None of them are correct. You are now one of the few to know the true tale.”

Aiden nodded.

“We took to the cliffs,” Stelo continued, “keeping clear of the island’s other inhabitants. We had no wish to commune with them any further.”

“I can understand that.”

“Yes. Well. The population of the island grew. We were in danger of being found out, our peaceful lives would be disrupted once more. That is when Father Andrew came to us with a plan.”

“Wait—Father Who?”

“Father Andrew, a priest with whom one of our number had become acquainted, unbeknownst to the rest. Imagine our surprise when a human walked into our midst.”

Stelo was telling the story as if she’d actually been there, but she couldn’t be that old. Could she?

“Having been told of our plight, Father Andrew proposed that we board a ship—The Dove—that would be stopping at our island on its way from England to the New World. He talked of the great magnitude of this new land, convincing us that there we would have room to roam.”

“That must have sounded pretty good.”

“Yes, it sounded perfect. Even though we had to keep to the shadows below deck, we so looked forward to our new home that we were quite happy.” She stopped walking and turned to face Aiden. “Until March 25, 1634.”

“What happened then?”

“We landed on St. Clements Island in Maryland.”

“And that was bad?”

“Rather than being free to roam, as we’d been promised, we were taken to yet another island. This new Isle of Wight—that of Maryland—became our new ‘home.’ We were confined there for three hundred years.”

Aiden couldn’t believe this. “Three hundred years? Seriously?”

“Oh, I am quite serious,” Stelo answered.

“Why didn’t you just leave? Leave the island and just go?”

It sounded like Stelo inhaled deeply before continuing. “Wraiths and water do not mix. We cannot rest on its surface as shadows. In our semi-solid form, we sink. We are unable to interact with the water to swim or float. We drown.”

It never occurred to Aiden that wraiths could drown. He never pictured them as needing to breathe. He let out a quiet “huh” and waited for her to continue.

“In 1933, a severe hurricane hit the coast of Maryland, opening up what is known as the Ocean City Inlet. This changed the water level surrounding our island, uncovering a narrow strip of marsh connecting the isle to the mainland.”

“And you guys were finally able to take off?” Aiden asked.

“Alas, no. Before we could even begin to make plans for our freedom, representatives from the newly formed Imagine Nation came to us. They told us that we had been designated as a protected magical species. They then escorted us to our new ‘sanctuary.’”

“North Brother Island,” Aiden surmised.

“Oh, not quite yet. No, we had quite a long journey ahead of us before we could settle here.”

“Where did they take you?”

“To Alcatraz Island.”

“No,” Aiden said in disbelief. “They couldn’t have sent you to Alcatraz. That place had some of the worst, most violent criminals imprisoned there.”

“That is, indeed, where we were forced to live,” Stelo said. “The conditions were beyond horrible. We witnessed things there that no creature, Real or Imaginary, should ever have to endure.”

There was silence for a minute or two. Aiden finally broke it by gently asking, “But you got off of Alcatraz, right? I mean, you’re here now.”

“Yes. When the penitentiary on the island closed in 1963, we were brought here, to North Brother. It was a considerable improvement. No longer forced to witness the horrors of prison life, no longer separated from the green growing things that we love, we at last found some measure of peace.”

“But you still weren’t free,” Aiden observed.

“No, we are still not free. The wraiths have not been free for centuries.”

“That’s an awful long time for bad feelings to build up,” Aiden said in what he hoped was a sympathetic tone.

“And that brings us to Markus,” said Stelo as she walked toward the center of the garden and sat on one of the stone benches.

Aiden sat across from her and nodded. He finally knew what he had to ask. “I can understand the resentment, the anger he must feel, but why is he doing this?”

Stelo shook her head and said, “I can speculate, but it would be little more than an educated guess. He’s doing it, somehow, for us.”

“So,” said Aiden, letting the pieces of the puzzle sort themselves out in his head as he spoke, “he’s trying to…” The puzzle remained unfinished.

“Find some way to lead us off this island,” said Stelo, reaching Aiden’s elusive conclusion for him. “If he’s found some way to absorb other creatures’ powers, I believe he is trying to strengthen himself to a point where he can overcome any opposition.”

“That’s interesting and all, but I don’t see how it helps me much.”

Stelo sounded a bit disappointed as she said, “No? I thought you were different from the others. I thought you would see that understanding your opponent would bring you closer to stopping him. And by stopping him, I believe you may be able to save him. At least, that is my fervent hope.”

Aiden thought this over. Sure, it sounded like Mr. Midnight was on a noble crusade, but he was going about it all wrong. If he hadn’t attacked two of his friends, and possibly corrupted a third, Aiden might be more sympathetic. With Larry in mind, he asked, “Would he work with a partner?”

There was a pause before Stelo answered, “He is a prideful one, Markus. It would have to be his equal, something ancient and powerful. Or, perhaps something weak he could dominate.”

* * * *

“So, learn anything good?” asked Siegfried as he piloted them away from the island. He hadn’t asked any questions before this due to the wraith escort back to their boat.

Aiden stared down at his pants, soaking wet up to the knee. The tide had shifted while they were speaking with Queen Stelo, forcing them to wade out into the river several feet to reach the boat. The thought of all the bacteria from the dirty river clinging to his legs caused him to shiver. He’d stand up to creatures many times his size, but the ones he couldn’t see freaked him out the most. When he got back home, he’d take an immediate shower and wash his jeans. Twice.

“I’m not sure,” said Aiden. Granted, he had learned quite a lot, but he wasn’t sure how much of it would be useful. “I think I know why Mr. Midnight is doing what he’s doing, but I still don’t understand how I’m supposed to stop him.” He gave a brief synopsis of his conversation with Stelo, ending with her theory about the reason for the attacks.

“Hmph,” Siegfried grunted.

“So…” said Aiden after a minute of silence, “when do I get to hear the Mira story?”

“When I think you’re ready.”

It would be no use arguing the point with Siegfried. Aiden could tell that his mind was set on this matter. Both men went silent, lost in thought as the boat sped across the river.