Shadow Heir

I pulled myself from my self-pity enough to note that she was right. The temperature had dropped, and that thick, suffocating air from earlier was now in motion as fronts collided. The cute ornamental trees swayed back and forth, like synchronized dancers. Dark clouds, tinged with a sickly green, gathered above. A chill that had nothing to do with the cool-down ran over my skin. My asshole gentry father, aside from getting me stuck with a prophecy that said his eldest grandson would conquer humanity, had also passed on his prowess with weather magic. I was tuned in to all the elements that made up a storm: the moisture, the air, even the charged particles that heralded lightning. My senses were open to them, and the intensity of all those factors hitting me at once now was a bit overwhelming.

“So much for a candy run,” I muttered, peering at the angry sky. I was out of Milky Ways and pretty desperate for some. “We’ll be lucky if we don’t get drenched before we reach the gate.” Not for the first time, I wished I had a car during these Ohio trips, but it was pointless. The only real reason I came here was for the clinic, and it was within walking distance to the gate that led back to the Otherworld. There’d be no practical way to keep a car here. Plus, riding in one would probably kill Pagiel.

I’d glanced at the sky, mostly verifying that things looked as bad as they felt, when something suddenly jerked me to a standstill. If I scanned to the north, looking above a stretch of trees, I could see the edge of the storm clouds. The black ceiling above us only extended a mile, and where it ended abruptly, I could see sunshine and blue sky. I was willing to bet the air was stiflingly hot and humid there too. Looking around, I saw that was the case everywhere. Directly above us, the sky was dark, but those clouds extended in a very finite, very clearly defined way. It was like being under a perfectly round dome. All around those hard edges, sun fought to get through.

My companions came to a halt beside me, and I met Jasmine’s gaze. “I feel it... .” she murmured. “I didn’t at first. There was too much going on... .”

“Me too,” I said. Along with feeling storm elements, she and I were also sensitive to magic specifically acting on them. What we were feeling now wasn’t a natural occurrence. There were so many stimuli that the magic behind it had remained hidden to me initially—as was no doubt intended. There were Otherworldly forces at work. And with that realization came another: we’d been discovered. My Midwest safe house was no longer safe. “Fuck.”

Pagiel’s young face was grim as he glanced at me. “What do you want to do?” Pagiel had inherited his mother’s magical prowess with air, so he too had probably figured out something was amiss.

I began walking again. “We’ve got to get to the gate. There’s no other choice. Once we cross, we’re safe.”

“Whoever’s doing this must know about the gate,” pointed out Jasmine. “They could be on the other side waiting.”

“I know. But that also means they would’ve had to defeat all the troops left behind.” This gate in Hudson didn’t open within the borders of my kingdoms in the Otherworld. It was close enough to my allies, however, that the journey had always seemed worth it in order to get safe medical treatment in the human world. Still, we never made the journey without a considerable and armed escort on the other side.

The wind seemed to increase as we walked, blowing against us and slowing our progress. I could’ve used my magic to control it but was holding back until faced with the storm’s creator—or rather, creators. There were only two people in known gentry history who could singlehandedly summon and control a storm like this. One was my deceased father. The other was me. My bet was that this was the work of a number of magic users, a thought that made me grit my teeth in frustration. A lot of planning would’ve had to go into this, which meant my enemies had known about Hudson for a while.

Almost as annoying as being found out was having to deal with my own physical limitations. I wasn’t crippled, not by any means. I wasn’t even waddling. But, as I’d told the doctor, I just couldn’t quite do the things I used to. A half mile was not a huge distance, not at all, especially on suburban sidewalks. In my pre-pregnancy state, I could have easily broken out into a run and covered the distance quickly. Now, my best was a half-ass jog, and I was very aware of the fact that I was slowing Jasmine and Pagiel down.

We exited off the main road, cutting through the outskirts of a vast, wooded park. Otherworldly gates were rarely found in heavily populated, urban areas, and this one lay deep within the park’s grounds. The trees blocked the direct force of the wind, but the branches were shifting wildly, showering us with twigs and leaves. We were the only ones out here, since most reasonable humans would’ve long since taken shelter.