Eight Years Later
RIVEN
We step out of the portal into the Ombra.
Unbound shadows move over the mountains in the distance like clouds in a swirling storm.
Poppy’s hand squeezes mine in reassurance.
When my cousin wrote to me a few years ago to tell me my parents had been excommunicated from the family by my gran, I almost didn’t believe her, nor did I expect my gran and extended family to have been waiting all this time for me to return home.
My gran, nearly a millennium old and somehow still standing strong, steps from her shadows with my cousin and uncle. Her hands clasp around her mouth. “Oh, Riven.” The crack in her voice heals a fissure in my heart that my parents long ago split. “You made another shadow bearer.”
The combined shadows of my family swirl around Poppy. She doesn’t recoil from them and, instead, hands them our daughter to carry to my grandmother.
“Yes,” I say, slinging an arm around Poppy’s shoulders. “Turns out, I’m very talented.”
Gran eyes me, brow raised. “Still smart-mouthed, I see.”
Poppy snorts. “Very.”
“And what is the child’s name?” Gran asks.
“Aureus.” Meaning golden in the Midnight Tongue. An often-unused word as it’s the antithesis of shadows.
“Beautiful,” Gran beams. “She is to be inducted into the Court of Shadows. Come.” Her shadows swirl around her like a sweeping cloak.
I walk confidently, Poppy beside me, out of place but unafraid.
Cool air and whispering shadows, not my own, brush against my skin like watching eyes from everywhere.
We move through town to the temple. Shadow fae line the streets, eyes wide with shock, whispering witch under their breath.
For as far back as our recorded history goes, very few non-shadow fae have stepped foot in the Ombra.
I was shocked when my cousin said the king would allow Aureus to be given the shadow ceremony in the holy temple.
Partly because my witch wife would have to come, but also because we don’t even know if a half shadow fae will have shadows that want to be bound to her.
Since she’s only a baby, today she would only be touched by the shadows, and then they’d find her later in life once she comes into her power.
The temple comes into view, ancient, steepled, and shadow-wrapped. Magic and power hang thick in the cobwebbed rafters. The priest of shadows steps forward. Shockingly, he’s a male I attended primary school with. He shakes my hand and eyes the witch.
“This is my wife.” My shadows curl around her protectively. “Try not to be weird about it.”
“Of course not,” he smiles, though I can see his eyes assessing her. “I performed a wedding between a witch and the crown prince just last season.”
My eyes widen. “The Ombra prince married a witch?”
The priest nods. “Times are changing. How else do you think your half-fae child was granted access to the Temple of Shadows?” I assumed my charisma was genetic, and my cousin charmed her way into getting the prince to agree.
The blessing begins, Aureus held in my arms. Foreign shadows curl into the temple and twist around her, tentatively at first, but as if they recognize something in her.
The golden flecks in her caramel eyes glow, then the shadows engulf her for a moment.
Poppy holds her breath, knowing that when they move, we’ll either have a child promised shadows or a future witch in our hands.
If she’s to wield shadows, a circle of ash will rest on the crown of her head.
Slowly, the shadows curl away, but still linger to help cradle her.
My brows furrow, for on her head rests a semi-circle.
“Have you seen this before?” Poppy asks. My head shakes no, and I look up to see Gran and the priest equally mystified.
“The child,” Gran says in awe, “possesses the power of both.” Just as she says this, a golden glow like Poppy’s magic bursts from Aureus’s hands.
Our little family stands in shadow and light, perfectly balanced.
Once upon a time, our love was a question. Now, like our child, it is a force the world must reckon with.