Chapter 25 Boy
twenty-five
Boy
Boy had never seen his Shadow look anything other than composed and thoroughly in control, so this version of him—the magnificent geist who knelt on the damp floor of the prison cell and was lost for words—unsettled Boy.
Despite that, he kept his hand where it was and tentatively carded his fingers through the Shadow’s inky black hair.
He might have imagined it, but it seemed to Boy that his touch helped ground the geist, and he was more than willing to be that anchor if he could.
“I came back for you because…” His usually deep timbre rasped, and wisps of smoke curled up from his black and leathery form. “Because you are my Heart.”
Boy’s hand, tangled in a thick length of dark hair, froze. He was his what? How could he, the simple son of a miller, be the Heart of a shadow geist? What did that even mean?
Boy looked down at his chest. He could just make out the off-white cotton blend of his tunic through the shadows that hung from him like a cape.
A low and throaty laugh permeated the air. A gloved hand reached through the shadowed cloak and pressed flat over Boy’s left pec. “No, this heart is all yours, and perfect right where it is.”
His Shadow had aimed for reassurance, but Boy remained unconvinced.
That same hand trailed languidly up to his collarbones, where the tips of his fingers brushed over their prominence, before they cradled the back of Boy’s skull. In this mirrored position, the geist had risen on his knees and moved closer, and Boy relaxed into his proximity.
“I was as surprised as you when I realised. I’d spent my entire existence searching for a trinket.” He huffed a sardonic laugh. “And yet….”
Black eyes that swirled with all the vitality of a clear night’s sky scanned him from head to toe, and Boy shuddered.
“Yet what I found was far more vibrant, more beguiling, and more precious than any other artefact in Falchovari.” His Shadow punctuated each description with a gradual tightening of his hold on the back of Boy’s neck.
Almost subconsciously, Boy felt himself nod. Then he stiffened. Then he shook his head. “I still don’t understand,” he whispered.
The geist nodded once. “I am not human, and so not from your realm.”
As if a further explanation were needed, shadowed tendrils thickened and pulsed around Boy’s waist and thighs. Boy arched his eyebrow as if to say “no kidding,” and his Shadow quirked his lips.
“I come from the shadow realm, where only the strongest of us can cross through the veil, but in order to remain in the human realm, I need a tether.” The geist squeezed the back of Boy’s neck. “A special artefact from this realm made to bind with my magick. A—”
“A Heart.” Boy cut him off.
His Shadow smiled. “A Heart.”
That smile faltered, and Boy felt the echo of his sadness through to the core of his being.
“Without a Heart, my time in the human realm makes me vulnerable.” His Shadow removed his hand from the back of Boy’s neck and placed it on his own chest. “The space where it should be is my only weakness.”
Weak and vulnerable were not words that came to mind whenever he thought about the geist, and the admission caught Boy off guard.
Then he remembered the way his Shadow had dropped to his knees when the Queen had summoned him last night.
How he had clutched at his chest as if he wanted to tear through his skin and rip something out from the inside.
Boy had been desperate to help, had wanted to do anything that could ease his suffering, and when he’d asked what was needed, the answer had been, “my Heart.”
As if he knew Boy’s thoughts, his Shadow nodded solemnly. “Queen Schon did as you suspected; she used the Law of Names in a spell to infect me with black magick.” The hand on his chest formed an angry fist. “That’s how she enthralled me.”
A heady mix of validation and nausea swirled violently in Boy’s stomach.
Knowing he’d freed his Shadow from such an existence was a moment of pride and immense relief, but the gnawing pit in his gut ate up those positive emotions as fast as they occurred.
Now that the shadow geist was no longer enslaved, his time in the human realm was limited.
He’d said he needed his Heart to stay, and from his evident discomposure, Boy didn’t think he would like whatever his Shadow was about to say next.
“But she could only do that because I hadn’t yet claimed my Heart.”
Boy exhaled.
“And because I still haven’t, she’s in her private rooms working out how to cast it again.”
Boy stiffened. Could she do that? Boy was ashamed to admit he hadn’t thought of that possibility. He chewed on his bottom lip.
The whole while, dark eyes willed Boy to understand. He could sense their urgency as if it were his own. Boy was missing something, and whatever it was, his Shadow was desperate for him to arrive at the conclusion by himself.
Boy gasped. “But you said that I’m your Heart!”
“You are,” confirmed the geist, his eyes ablaze with possession.
“So then, you need to claim me? If you don’t, the Queen could enthral you again, or you have to return to the shadow realm.” Boy’s heart pounded rabbit-fast in his chest.
Those piercing black eyes were cast downward when his Shadow nodded. “Yes.” The admission was quiet, but Boy felt the impact as if it had been shouted. “Yes, from the moment I knew what you were to me, I’ve wanted nothing more than to claim you—to keep you.”
In the dark reflection of the shadow geist’s gaze, he saw the glint from the golden thread around his neck, and the breath in Boy’s lungs froze.
His Shadow uncurled a fist and hooked a finger through the delicate necklace that he had been gifted.
“The black magick that infected me made it impossible to claim you.” His Shadow tugged on the golden thread, and Boy felt it press into the back of his neck.
“That, and I hadn’t expected you to be so…
” He let the thread fall back into the hollow of Boy’s throat. “Mortal.”
Boy winced at the candour, and the geist’s lips drew into a thin and determined line.
“I infused this collar with my magick because you are mine, and I wanted to keep you with me, always.” His Shadow took a long and slow inhale. “But also, because I lacked the courage to tell you the truth.”
The long pause that followed filled Boy’s veins with ice.
His Shadow rested back on his heels, and silence stretched between them.
Slowly, and with trembling hands, Boy shrugged off the shadows that cloaked him and pulled at the golden thread around his neck until it snapped.
He brought the elegant collar to his lap, where he examined it closely.
It was a simple and clean design, not much different at all from the thread he had watched being spun from straw.
Except this one had very faint shadow wisps emanating from it.
Boy held the golden thread in one hand, and with the other palm up, he called the shadows to him. They came without resistance and formed a small ball of darkness that hovered just above his skin. Despite his heavy heart and racing mind, Boy smiled at the wonderment of magick.
He heaved out a sigh. At least he had his answer as to why Falchovari’s most powerful shadow geist had chosen to deceive the Queen and spin the straw into gold. Boy was his Heart—without whom he would be reclaimed by the shadow realm.
Except—no. Maybe that explained why his Shadow didn’t kill him that first night they met, but it wasn’t the full picture.
It didn’t explain the conjuring of the best food Boy had ever eaten, nor the insistence that he eat each day.
It didn’t explain the gentle thoroughness with which he washed Boy in the Merchant’s Quarters.
Neither did it explain the loving care that his Shadow had exhibited, even now, when he commanded his magick to raise Boy from the stone floor and wrap around him to guard against the chill.
No. His Shadow still wasn’t being truthful, despite his words, because he remained blind to himself.
With his eyes trained on the length of golden thread in his hand, Boy whispered, “You still haven’t asked me why I did it.”
A low rumbling sound came from his Shadow’s throat. Then a brief pause. Then he quietly asked, “Why did you do it?”
Boy hid his small smile by biting on his bottom lip.
“My whole life, I’ve never had any power.
I was born into servitude and was destined to dedicate my life to my family’s flour mill.
I love my brothers and sisters, and I didn’t mind the workload much, so I accepted that.
” Boy sent the ball of shadows back into the golden thread and watched in awe as they swirled around it like snakes.
“I accepted when Father wanted to send me to the palace as tithe. I accepted when the Royal Guard locked me in this cell. And when the Queen came and decreed my inevitable death, I accepted that too.” Finally, he raised his head and sought out the onyx gaze of his Shadow.
“And then I met you.” Boy felt a blush creeping over his cheeks.
“And in just three days, you showed me more kindness, more attention, and more pleasure than anyone else ever has.” Thick shadows dared to ease back around Boy’s waist, and he welcomed them.
“But the Queen had marked me for death, and it was only a matter of time before she discovered our lie.”
The shadows grew larger until they surrounded Boy almost completely. “I was worried I had nothing to offer you until I realised that I held the power of knowledge. While I couldn’t prevent my death, I could release you from your bond.”
The shadow geist rose up on his knees and stretched his arms forward, his larger hands encased Boy’s where he still clutched the thread.
A myriad of fleeting expressions crossed his features, and Boy pressed his point further.
“You say you want to keep me, but as what? As your slave? Like my father kept me just to help staff his mill?”
His Shadow’s lip curled into a sneer of disgust, his brow drew into a deep furrow, and he shook his head. When he opened his mouth to speak, Boy spoke first. “Does being your Heart mean that I lose your affection?”
His Shadow leaned forward in a move so sudden that Boy didn’t see it coming, and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “No,” he whispered against his skin. “You will never lose that.”
Boy’s blush intensified and his Shadow pulled away a fraction, just enough to search Boy’s eyes. “I may be the geist, but as my Heart, you will always hold the real power.” He gently squeezed Boy’s hands. “I may be the one who wields magick, but you have bewitched me with a magick all your own.”
Another soft kiss on his forehead. “You have already saved me, my Heart.”
Boy’s eyes welled with tears at his Shadow’s declaration.
The geist shuffled closer on his knees and spoke right to Boy’s soul. “You have shown me that there is more to life than living, and I vow to always care for and protect you, whether you choose to be my Heart in return or not. Queen Schon will never harm you as long as I haunt this realm.”
“You would save me from the Queen, even if I choose not to be your Heart?” Boy’s voice broke on his words. Did his Shadow really mean it? Was he truly offering him that much power?
The geist’s eyes softened, and he brought one hand up to wipe away the wall of tears from Boy’s lashes. His shadows sizzled softly, and he nodded once. “Say my name.”
Boy’s shocked breath, mixed with his tears, came out more like a hiccup. “You would give me this power over you?”
“You already have it.” His Shadow stroked his thumb over Boy’s cheek.
The truth of those words propelled Boy into action. He fumbled in his haste, but he managed to withdraw his hand—that still held the golden thread—from under his Shadow’s larger one. When he emphatically nodded his head, more tears fell, and Boy presented the geist with his magick-infused collar.
His Shadow looked back and forth between Boy’s eyes and the golden thread while he processed the intention. Boy knew the moment realisation dawned, because those black eyes swirled with shades of grey and a small smirk tugged his Shadow’s mouth upward.
The most powerful shadow geist in Falchovari knelt before him, and when he reached to once again secure the golden thread around Boy’s neck—where it belonged—Boy whispered…
“Rumpelstilzchen.”