A whip cracked and screams echoed off the decaying wood panels. Emera’s nails dug into the splintered beam. Blood streaked from the slash marks on her back. Her body trembled with each sob.

  Erador tore his sights from her, trying to compose his breathing. His blurred vision darted to the weeds in between the floorboards, and the dust floating in the sun rays breaking through the cracks in the roof. The glow reached his boots like an unwanted spotlight. He backed into the shadows and pressed into the rough wall.

  Aminria raised the whip and Erador flinched when it cracked. The leather drove into Emera’s back like Slen’s black fingers clawing his chest. Her wails ripped open the scars in his mind, allowing the night of his attack to fester. Erador ran his finger across every crack and crevice on the wall, anything to anchor himself. He was safe, but seeing Emera in distress didn’t ease his discomfort. Her chest slumped against the beam, her body too weak to pull the chains bounding her wrists.

  The whipped cracked again. Pain jolted through his face as his surroundings faded and hopelessness over came him. His sights changed to bare feet on a dirt floor, ankles tied to a chair, and rope tightened around bruised wrists. Black boots walked into view and were gone as Erador found himself staring back at the floorboards.

  Blinking, he focused on Aminria lowering the whip, and tried to ignore the disorienting images but he couldn’t blame Shade for it when he was in the shadows. That one wasn’t like the images Shade forced on him. It was another vision from Slen. Erador scratched aggressively at his scars that itched more than they should’ve when he wasn’t in the realm.

  Aminria grabbed Emera’s hair and ripped up her head up. “What were you doing in New Akthelia?”

  Emera strained to keep her head from falling. Strands of brown hair stuck to her sweaty forehead and draped into her mouth. “I never...” Her voice was a weakened whisper, “went there.”

  Aminria spit in her face. “Liar! You were carrying books down the street.”

  Emera sobbed and rattled the chains. “Let me go, please.”

  Aminria tied a rag around her head. Erador straightened and wiped the sweat off his forehead to prepare himself for an encounter. Relief found him when Aminria didn’t notice his shaking hands. Her drawn face aimed at the floor as she avoided weeds and lifted panels to reach him.

  “She won’t break.” Aminria sighed. “She can’t remember anything.”

  Erador stroked his throat to ease the choking thickness. “Maybe she doesn’t know anything.”

  “Then why did she run from us?”

  “Probably to alert the guards.”

  Aminria looked over her shoulder and back at Erador. “How does she know we weren’t going to see the king?”

  “We were unaccompanied and she knows I’ll never hand my father over.” Erador furrowed his brow at Emera slumped against the beam. Tears slid down her face. She’d been here a few days and hadn’t told them anything. His insides churned and he regretted agreeing to let Aminria whip the answers out of her. Every emotion she conveyed felt real. Pretending and lying had to be more difficult when being tortured. Not a cold heartless wench like Miraline could fake it. “I don’t think she knows anything. At least not anymore.”

  Aminria squeezed the whip, the leather creaking. “You think she had her memories wiped?” She leaned toward Erador. “How? I’ve been keeping a close eye on her.”

  “I’m sure the witch who let the Raven out has other plans in mind,” Erador said. “I think we should spy on Yuni.”

  Aminria loosened her grip and cocked her head. “How?”

  “With Shade.”

  Erador cursed himself for letting that slip. No matter how much he didn’t want to use the Shadow Realm, he had no other choice. It might be how he can find Yuni doing suspicious activity. At least Shade wasn’t around to scold him about endangering his life.

  A hoarse rumble in Aminria’s throat diminished his uncomfortable feelings as her tongue slid across her smirking lips. “Have you spied on other people before?”

  Erador’s nerves grated as her sensational gaze looked him up and down. “I’m not a pervert.”

  “You know,” she said. “You can spy on me anytime.”

  Erador rolled his eyes. “Guess I know where to go when I get the urge.”

  Emera’s body trembled. Her eyes were shut and chin resting on her arm. It felt like a whip slashed his chest. He couldn't let his feelings get in the way, but that didn’t mean she should stay like that.

  “Before you go, clean Emera, get her food, and bedding. Don’t torture her anymore.”

  Aminria nodded. “I want to come to Shade’s world too.”

  “No,” Erador said, sharply.

  “Why not?” Aminria narrowed her silver eyes that were forceful like a knife prying open the lid of a jar. “Is this about the Well Lurker?” She placed her hands on her hips. “I know more about shadows than you think.”

  He couldn’t tell her the truth. She’d laugh, thinking it was ridiculous for someone like him to be afraid of monsters. He wished he hadn’t mocked her about the Well Lurker. At least it wasn’t real, and she didn’t need intervention.

  No matter how much the sweat dribbled from his skin at the idea of her finding out, he couldn’t do this alone. Erador wasn’t leaving the manor and at least it was harder to hear lurkers outside on the upper floors. He just hoped he could hide his feelings.

  “Fine,” Erador said begrudgingly. “Get Hawth to watch her. Meet me in my room tonight.”

  Erador left the building and slid the door shut. Crickets chirped and fireflies blinked, ready for the night to come. He took a different path through the forest to avoid making a trail. He traveled without Shade’s company. The shadow would find out Erador’s plans. If he didn’t let him into the Shadow Realm, he would make him.

  ***

  Erador leaned back on the sofa and rested his head on the knitted throw. He tried to focus on the flickering light on the ceiling. The citrus incense permeated his senses, but it couldn’t purge his pores of Emera’s reeking blood. The mere thought of her location forced his heart to spasm. Shade knew as much as him, but the shadow hadn’t bothered him since they took her. His silence was a sign he was displeased with his actions, but at least he couldn’t communicate with anyone else.

  When Erador stopped worrying about one burden, another poured in, filling his grave with another shovel of dirt. He lifted his head. Loma’s knitting needles clicked as she wove colorful yarn. A question peaked on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t want to interrupt her flow, but he had to double check.

  “Are you sure he’s not going to tell anyone how the Raven escaped?”

  Loma stopped knitting and looked up. “Eli knows better. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “You’re sure it was him?”

  “Of course.” Loma set her unfinished shawl on the armrest. “It was paint, not blood on that rag. If it was the caretakers, they wouldn’t say a thing either.”

  Paint? Eli had run out of red or had he found more? Erador didn’t check the rag carefully and had Aminria dispose of it. He should’ve confirmed it was blood first.

  “I’m not sure about Pia or Mikra.” Erador sighed and leaned his arms on his legs. “I don’t know them.”

  “I think they know to avoid causing trouble.” Loma’s knees creaked as she got up. “Try not to worry about it.” She gave his shoulder a firm squeeze and kissed his cheek. “Good night.” She walked into her bedroom and shut the door.

  The light reached the statues on the end tables and shelves. He could never get away from religion, even outside the manor. Any given day they appeared nothing more than a decoration, but now they seemed to peer into the depths of his soul at his sins.

  Erador dropped his head, arms dangling on his knees. He dragged his finger across his tattoo. The green moth rested on the height of the sunflower. Loma's encouraging words called to him: You’ll rise from your fears and face the sun.

  But the sunflower and light tethered him to the place of his attack. Shadows flickered as the candle swayed. He pinched his eyes closed and steadied his breaths to keep his nightmares at bay. Feet shuffled in the room and a body dropped beside him.

  “Why aren’t you in bed?” Erador cracked open an eye and turned his head at Cade.

  Cade’s shadow, Meida, peeked from his dark shape. Shade nudged a wave, asking Erador to offer a greeting, but he ignored it. It’s not as if Meida was keen on saying hello. Cade rubbed his knees and hunched, shifting his gaze to Loma’s bedroom door. Erador would’ve chalked it up to nervousness for being up late, but Cade’s tongue slid aimlessly across his lips; an anticipating tick he had for as long as Erador could remember.

  Cade’s last punishment from Loma had no effect on him. Erador sat up, tensing his fingers on his knees awaiting Cade’s details for another one of his mischievous plans.

  “I wanted to... to show you something.” Cade’s voice stuttered eagerly.

  “What is it?”

  Cade looked one last time at Loma’s door. “In my room.”

  Erador followed Cade through the door next to Loma’s. This room was like another realm compared to the rest of the house. Cade’s bed was unmade and clutter scattered on his shelves and against the walls. Erador wanted to help clean it, but it wasn’t as if Cade couldn’t. He had his own habits, like not wanting his things touched and Erador respected that. It seemed Loma had finally accepted his clutter with how little it had changed in the last year. The only neat area was the dresser with a lit candle on top.

  “So,” Erador crossed his arms. “What is it?”

  “It’s in the Shadow Realm.”

  The air hardened in Erador’s lungs as if the tissue had turned to wood. He could only utter a soft gasp that scraped up his throat. If he was a child he wouldn’t mind. After all, they had gone in Cade's room without Loma knowing. But Erador’s stubborn and spiteful nature is what almost got him killed. He shouldn’t have tried to prove to his father that he could be in the realm alone.

  “Do we have to go there to see it?” Erador whispered.

  Cade nodded. “It’s going to take a few minutes.”

  Erador paced the length of the room, fingers tangled in his hair. It was an entire process to go to the realm. It was a time he couldn't numb himself and felt the most alive but not in a way he wanted to be. Loma's words had been branded into his mind: Breath slowly and clear your mind. But nothing could make him ready for a realm that breathed death.

  “I know it’s hard,” Cade said. “But it’ll be worth it.”

  Erador cradled that image of Cade’s dark encouraging eyes in his mind as fuel. It was one thing that helped. He checked the windows to make sure they were shut and yanked on the curtain clips. No matter how many times he checked, he didn’t feel secure. He could only hope it was and trust that the sheet he tucked under the door didn't have a small opening.

  Cade encouraged Erador with a nudge on the shoulder, but he didn’t call Shade who waited in the corner of his mind. The shadow was quiet, not bothering to protest because Erador wouldn’t go. Meida slipped from Cade’s shadow and he hobbled through the dark shape without hesitation. He disappeared from the room and a fuzzy shadow image separated from the wall. It had no distinguishable features but Erador knew it was Cade with how he walked.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Erador’s hairs stood on end, when fabric brushed his skin. The shadow figure of Cade opened the drawer, lifted the glass jar, and set it on the dresser. Erador squinted at the emanating white light. Glowing crystals the length of Erador’s fingers were in the sealed glass jar. Lumin couldn't be what he wanted to show him. Cade was taunting him with unforeseen knowledge that Erador couldn’t believe was in an evil place.

  Erador couldn’t face Slen. Yet he told himself he would take Aminria to the realm. Sweat beaded down his face. What if she found out he was afraid of lurkers? What if she knew he wasn’t brave enough to go in? More importantly, what if he couldn’t do it to catch Yuni lying?

  He shut his eyes and tried Loma’s breathing techniques, despite how little they helped. Erador stepped toward Meida, jumping as the cold sensation slid across his skin. The darkness numbed his mind and body. The feeling was gone and his feet were on solid flooring. He kept his eyes closed and listened for talking lurkers but none were near.

  “Look at this,” Cade said.

  White light shown against Erador’s eyelids. He opened them slowly. Cade’s warming smile was the first thing he saw. But any happiness drained away when his gaze panned to the jar in his hands. A lurker that looked like an insect crawled on the crystal.

  Erador’s mouth quivered and he stepped back. “How did... How did it get so small?”

  “I brought a bug into the realm and killed it.” Cade pointed at the smashed insect in the jar. Bits of it’s black and brown exoskeleton were visible with the guts.

  Erador felt ridiculous for forgetting. They did this before his attack.

  To a create a lurker, a living being had to die inside the Shadow Realm. Lurker bugs couldn't burrow in hiding places like normal insects. They needed light to live, so they were forced to remain in the open. Since they were weak, they either perished in darkness or were consumed by other lurkers.

  They used to squash bugs in the realm, but they let the lurkers go. Cade grinned proudly at the lurker bug as if it was the beginning collection of shiny pebbles or coins. For Erador, the idea of facing a tiny lurker was easier before his attack, but now it felt like the mere sight of one would kill him.

  “What are you doing with it?” Erador said.

  “Watch.” Cade unscrewed the lid and reached inside.

  Erador snatched his arm. “Do you want it to tear your flesh off?”

  “It won’t.” Cade lowered his hand inside and the lurker crawled on it. He lifted it out. It didn’t wail or change form to instill fear. It was like a bug but less afraid.

  Cade moved it toward Erador, but he stepped back.

  “Come on,” Cade said, moving closer. “It won’t hurt you.”

  Erador reached out. His skin tingled as the lurker bug crawled onto his palm. He tensed, anticipating a bite or scratch, but it did nothing. The antennas tickled his thumb, and sent confusing shivers through his nerves. He wasn't sure whether to feel safe or run.

  “It used to be a wort beetle,” Cade said. “I had it change.”

  Erador looked up. “You made it change?”

  “I tamed it.” Cade showed his palms. Small red scratches were scattered throughout his fingertips. “Took dozens of cuts until I finally got it.”

  Erador lowered his finger onto the beetles back. The silky cold texture felt like it mended to his skin. Despite the beetle's stillness, he couldn’t shake the quaking in his chest.

  “I’m holding a lurker.” Erador let out a relieving laugh as he dumped it into his other palm. “Does Loma know?”

  “No.” Cade’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell her.”

  “I wasn’t going to.” Erador slid the lurker beetle back inside the jar and sealed it with the lid. “Can you teach me?”

  “I can, but only with small lurkers.” Cade put the jar in the drawer. “Anything larger is too hard.”

  “You’ve tried?”

  Cade lifted his shoulders, giving a half smirk.

  Erador scoffed. “You’re careless. No…” He looked to Cade’s jaguar mark. “You’re brave.”

  What Erador wasn’t. Cade’s foot was turned inward, he had trouble walking, and his speech used to be worse. His body didn’t work the same and yet he could face more than Erador who only had a few scars. He was faster and stronger than Cade, at least physically. But he couldn’t handle being near a bug lurker.

  “Have other people done this?”

  “It’s a method they teach to shadow users, so they can fight back. Ma said you’re not ready,” Cade said it annoyed as if it applied to him, and knowing Loma it likely did. “I think this is how you can overcome your fear. You have to tame Slen.”

  Erador let his hands drop to his side. Tame a lurker? That sounded insane. His mind buzzed, unable to process a future without Slen hunting him. All his life, he’d been told to run from them. They were to be feared. But this insect was like a mere leaf. It didn't have a mind of its own. If all lurkers were this way, what was there to fear? Slen would be nothing but a normal shadow.

  “I want to know everything.” Erador breathed.

  Cade gave a nod. “If you can control Shade, you can control a lurker.”

  “But how? I thought I can only control the shadow bound to me.”

  “I can command the lurker bug. Not in the same way as Shade or Meida.” Cade stared at his hands. “It feels different.”

  “How so?”

  “It’s more draining,” Cade said, sitting on the bed.

  “Could it be because it’s fighting you?”

  “Yes, but it never stops. It never gets better. At least our own shadows learn to work with us.”

  Erador lifted the jar and turned it. “How did you tame it?”

  “My element.”

  “Obviously.” He twisted the jar around and set it down. “I want specifics.”

  “I don’t know.” Cade let his hands hit the bed. “It came to me. It’s not much different from taming your shadow. You have to focus... and don’t fear it.”

  Cade pushed up and moved stiffly to the drawer. He pulled the sheet aside and picked up another jar. A lurker wort beetle banged into the glass and ran erratically around the jar. As Cade moved it toward Erador, the lurker stretched long, to half the jar’s length. It’s back hunched, claws extending.

  Erador’s breathing hitched as he backed up, tripping on the leg of the bed and catching himself.

  “You’re giving it what it wants.” Cade set the glass on the dresser. “You have to be aggressive.”

  “Won’t that make it mad?” Erador said, voice rising.

  “Quiet,” Cade snapped, eyes shifting to the door. “It confuses it. Watch.”

  Erador pressed into the wall, afraid a single step would put him in danger. Cade supported himself with the dresser and bent down, eyes narrowing. The blackness stretched in different directions like a rubber band.

  “If you don't show fear, it can’t decide what form to use against you. When it’s in this phase, it’s most vulnerable.” Cade tensed his hand around the jar. “The creature melted into a puddle and reformed back into the wort beetle.

  “There.” Cade smiled proudly and leaned his arm on the dresser.

  Erador sighed in relief. “That was quick.”

  “You should try.” Cade waved his hand over the lurker jar and it shifted again.

  “I’m not ready.”

  “It’s in a jar. It can’t hurt you even if you don’t command it.”

  Erador took the jar from the dresser, holding it at arm’s length. The creature shifted. He shut his eyes.

  “Don’t close your eyes.” Cade hit the dresser and pointed at Erador. “You have a shadow element. You’re in control. It should fear you.”

  Erador opened his eyes, sweat beaded down his head. The lurker stretched tall. It’s a bug. It can’t get bigger. It can’t become Slen. He rubbed his lips together and held the jar tight to still his shaking arms.

  Singing floated outside the window. Erador jumped, dropping the jar. It shattered on the ground. He ducked in the shadows beside the bed and pressed his fingers into his aching head. His scars stung. The lurker bug clawed at Erador’s boot, unable to puncture the leather. Shade pleaded for Erador to leave.

  “My scars burn every day, sometimes at night.” Erador’s voice shook. “Slen never leaves.”

  Cade looked at the scars on Erador’s jaw. “He marked you. He’ll always know where you are. He becomes what you fear.”

  Erador looked at his wrist. What did he fear? The form Slen took didn’t look like anything Erador had seen before. Monsters didn’t exist in the first world. No matter how many times he told himself that, a hunched silhouette hovering over his bed crept into his mind. It was a dream from the other night he dozed off, but it wasn’t the first time he'd seen it. He pushed that thought away. Nightmares weren’t real. They just felt that way.

  Footsteps pounded on the other side of the door. Cade’s face paled. Supporting himself on the bed, he scooped the lurker in an empty jar, set it in the drawer, and threw the towel on top.

  The door flung open. Loma walked in, slippers crunching on the glass. She tripped over Erador’s leg, catching herself on the bed.

  “Boys!” Her aggressive eyes searched the room. “What are you doing?”

  Tightness built in Erador’s throat. He couldn't stand when he should prevent Cade from getting in trouble.

  “It was my fault.” Erador spit out words hoping his tears wouldn’t slip out with it.

  Loma looked to the spot where Erador crouched. “Get out of the realm now!”

  Erador helped Cade through Shade who was as relieved when they were through. Loma’s furious stare could be as deadly as a lurker. Cade challenged her by standing tall, but Erador looked away. It was already enough that Shade was torturing him with images of how he could’ve been killed.

  “Why are you up late?” Loma placed her hands on her hips.

  “I already said...” Erador’s gaze shifted to the light streaming from the cracked drawer. “It was my fault.”

  “It was both of us!” Cade looked at Erador with irritation. “I was trying to help him.”

  Erador didn’t retaliate. He let Cade take Loma’s attention as he shuffled backwards toward the dresser. At least what he said was true, even if Loma wouldn’t approve.

  Loma shook her head. “You scared me half to death.” She lowered herself onto the bed. “I thought someone broke in.”

  “It won’t happen again,” Erador said, pushing back against the drawer until it shut.

  “It better not.” She got up. “Clean this up, then go. I better not hear a peep from you, Cade.”

  Loma left and Cade mimicked her words in a mocking tone.

  “That was close,” Erador whispered. He examined his scars. The pain had long faded, but the singing seemed to echo off the walls. Slen was out there. Not in this world, but he was waiting. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

  “What do you mean you can’t?” Cade limped toward him, avoiding the broken glass. “You never tell me you can’t be… beat me at Warden Tower.”

  “That’s a game. Lurkers aren’t.”

  Cade’s eyebrows knit together. “So that’s what you think? You think I'm playing with them?”

  “You're playing with your life,” Erador said.

  “You’re like ma. You think I can’t do anything. What... because of this?” Cade pointed at his foot. “I may not be able to run or walk as fast as you, but I’ll get there.”

  Creases formed on Erador’s brow. “That’s not what I meant. Lurkers are...” He touched the scar on his wrist. “They’ll kill you. They’ll kill anyone.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Cade said, raising his voice. “You know why you think you can’t do it? It’s because you gave up!”

  The words hit Erador like a brick to the chest. It might as well have been true. He wanted to give up because it didn’t feel like he was getting anywhere.

  “I never gave up when I couldn’t walk.” Cade rubbed his fist down his face. “I kept trying and I will continue to try.” He ripped open the drawer and pulled out another jar. A lit crystal rattled inside. He shoved it into Erador’s chest. “Do what you want with it.”

  Erador took the jar as Cade slammed the drawer shut and sat on the bed.

  “I’m sorry, Cade.” Erador set the jar down. “I didn’t mean...”

  Cade crossed his arms and scooted to the other side. “Go.”

  Erador licked his lip and picked up the broken glass carefully to avoid being cut. The clinking shards threatened to disturb the agonizing silence. Maybe Erador wanted it to fill that void, but he wasn’t about to leave his interaction with Cade this way when it felt like the candle would light the tense atmosphere on fire.

  Cade’s stiff posture made Erador’s heart feel like it was losing bits of flesh. Cade never gave up when it took him longer to get there. He never let words bother him and never complained. He was stronger than many people. But most of all, he was there when Erador needed it.

  “I don’t know anyone who would put in as much effort as you,” Erador said, but Cade wouldn't look at him. “I’ve always admired your strength and bravery.” Erador swallowed, holding back a choke. “Thank you for trying to help.” He picked up the jar and opened the door.

  “Erador,” Cade said. “It might take you longer, but I know you’ll tame Slen.”

  Erador’s heart mended with relief over Cade’s encouraging voice, and it was his hopeful look that sealed it. He looked at the lurker in the jar. All he had to do was give it a chance.