Ecstasy: The Shadowdwellers. Jacquelyn Frank
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outsiders were met with a thick wall of cinderblock and brick. Beyond that, Trace knew, was a second wall just as thick. This was a Shadowdweller safe house. There were only two ways in, and you had to know them to find them. The first was a common way, the entrance he was headed for. The second was an escape, used only in moments of extreme danger or threat of discovery. There were houses like this one all over the world, hidden in plain sight and maintained by caretakers who chose to remain native to the cities in order to provide safe havens for traveling Shadowdwellers who needed to plan their way through them so carefully.
Trace found the entrance after climbing on top of a broken wall. He thrust a hand between etched bricks, the instructions in ancient Shadese, a symbolic language that appeared to be meaningless graffiti to the average outsider, if an average outsider should even dare to enter a neighborhood such as this one. He checked behind himself, all his night-bred senses telling him the nearest human body was rooms away. Reassured, he grabbed the lever behind the brick with his fingertips and with just a squeeze released the latch. The heavy brick wall pivoted away from him on a fulcrum, the weight of it becoming insignificant. It swung only wide enough to let him squeeze into the narrow tunnel between the double walls. He then had to slide sideways several steps before finding the second latch.
As the final doorway swung open, Trace stepped into a completely altered existence. Unlike entering Shadowscape, however, this was more about material improvements. It was like stepping into a sultan’s home, lush with riches like velvet and beaten gold for ornamentation. Trace entered the main parlor with a relieved sort of sigh, but kept back from being seen by the general population milling about in conversation.
There was a significant crowd in the room. This was to be expected, since the entire royal household and most of the Senate was migrating north at the present time. Of course, not everyone could be contained in the same safe house, and there would be carefully planned cycles as they all passed through and moved on, but it was posh and prestigious to claim travel with the Chancellors themselves, so it was a much coveted time and place to be. Senators, priests and their handmaidens, and quite a few other upper-class members of their society were blended together. It made the rather large parlor seem much smaller than it was.
It also reminded Trace of just how close-quartered danger could be to the royals at that very moment. The very idea chilled him through as he ran suspect eyes over senators like Garamond and Ethane, who were notorious for siding against the Chancellors whenever they could draw breath. But those were obvious choices and it would be foolish to focus there alone. As it had been during the clan wars, he was going to have to suspect everyone, from Declan the treasurer to Killian the head of security. Drenna help them if it was someone like Killian, though. As trusted as he was? As close as he was to the very safety of the twin regents?
Trace caught a familiar pair of eyes across the room. It was easy to spot the house’s hostess, really. She was the only one in the room who wasn’t dressed in dark blues, browns, or blacks. Instead, she had chosen a brilliant peacock blue satin dress that fell in luscious folds from her slim body. She could afford the luxury of the flashy colors because she rarely traveled outside of her environment of the safe house.
“Valerina,” he greeted her as she crossed the room quickly to approach him. Her gray-black eyes roamed his obviously worse for wear body with concern, her brows drawing down expressively.
“My Lord Vizier,” she returned, “you are injured. I will fetch you aid.”
She raised a hand, ready to snap one of her attendants to attention, but he caught her wrist and eased her arm back down. His dark eyes slid over the others in the room, taking note of who was watching them with interest already.
“That isn’t necessary,” he assured Valerina. “I’m almost completely healed.”
“You will forgive me for saying so, Ajai, but that is bullshit.”
Trace couldn’t help the half-hitched grin he turned onto her. She lifted a wry brow and gave him a look that reminded him quickly why he liked the sharp-witted woman. She was no-nonsense through and through, and few got away with trying to deceive her. They were good qualities in a woman entrusted to protect untold numbers of ’Dweller lives over the years.
“Be that as it may,” he countered, “I have my reasons to use a little discretion.”
Discretion and secrecy were other topics she understood well and negotiated with regularity. Her entire life was a well-kept secret from the human world that surrounded her, after all. So, without another word, she turned and led the way to a curtained alcove. She gestured to the door hidden behind the damask fabric.
“Take the hallway to the end, Ajai Trace, and use the door on your left. You will find my private bath within. While you make use of it, I will have Raul go to the secured quarters and retrieve some clean clothes from your wardrobe. And before you argue,” she continued sharply, holding up a hand to ward him from doing just that, “recall that discretion is your aim. If you enter secure quarters looking like you do and come into the presence of the monarchy thus, you will defeat that purpose.”
“But of course,” he agreed after a moment, reaching to take her stubborn hand out of the air and turning it gently up to his lips for a kiss of respect to match his short bow. This brought a smile to sleekly painted lips, the glistening garnet color flattering the clean white of her teeth and the sparkle flashing in her eyes.
“I’ll not have you dissatisfied in the slightest while you are in my house, Ajai,” she said, the statement more like a reprimand that he should even hint otherwise.
“I find the possibility simply preposterous, Valerina. Thank you.”
Chapter 3
Why did you leave me?
Why did you shun me?
I never shunned you!
Yes, she said, you did. You all do. You always do. You are all the same.
I am many things, my little mouse, but ordinary is not one of them. I am like nothing you know.
Yes, she relented. You are a man who uses a sword to kill. I have never known anyone like that.
Trace awoke with a jolt, water raining down on him hot and sharp like a shower of needles. He had fallen asleep on his feet, his exhaustion catching up with him and forcing him into a brief state of dreaming thoughts. Voices dimly whispered in his mind, a barely caught memory of barely realized concepts and visions. His head hurt, ringing with all the effort he had put into the past hours.
And for inexplicable reasons, he couldn’t get the image of the young and vulnerable Ashla’s final expression of stricken hurt and tragic dismay out of his head.
“Damn,” he muttered, reaching to shut off the taps with hard twists of frustration. Yeah, it had been a hell of a day. And it wasn’t over yet. Now he had to find the regents and break the bad news. He was already dreading the conflict. He never knew what Tristan was going to take seriously and what he was going to blow off. It was Malaya he would have to count on, the female Chancellor proving to be the more grounded of the twins. That wasn’t to say Tristan hadn’t earned his place at the head of the Shadowdweller people, but as Trace had remarked to Baylor, the new monarch suffered from an overabundance of confidence.
Trace walked out of the shower and found the clothing Valerina had promised him resting within immediate reach. He didn’t waste any more time than necessary, pulling his clothes on before he was even decently dry. The purpose of the bathing had been to not draw attention and to not alarm anyone by dragging his exhausted carcass into the inner chambers covered in encrusted blood and looking like death warmed over. By the same token, he wasn’t out to impress anyone with his grooming.
He quickly exited the bath and found his way down the twisting hallways. In as much as these buildings had once been run-of-the-mill squared-out apartments, it was Shadowdweller style to make a labyrinth of anywhere they lived. The theory was the more corners, the more hidden places they could create, the better to escape light or danger when it came. It had worked too often for them to ever consider changing their ways.