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“He’s dead,” someone mutters. “What did you do?”
For a moment, nothing happens. Then Yarrow lets out a scream that fills my core with frantic, joyful energy.
Here it comes.
The transformation.
His body contorts, his back arching at an impossible angle. I hear the sickening crack of bones breaking and reforming. His wings strain, then snap with a sound like thunder and grow larger, splaying out sideways as he cries out.
Gasps and cries of alarm rise from the onlookers. Some take a step back, but most are transfixed.
Yarrow’s wings grow larger by the second. The dull grey turns to pitch black. His body grows too, muscles swelling and reshaping beneath his skin.
When he opens his eyes, they’re glowing red.
Like mine.
The shadows recede, leaving Yarrow standing there, panting heavily. He looks down at his hands, flexing his fingers. Then he spreads his wings – his true wings – for the first time.
A gust of wind sweeps through the cavern, extinguishing half the torches. In the semi-darkness, Yarrow looks like something out of a nightmare. Or a dream.
“How do you feel?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Yarrow turns to me, a grin spreading across his face. It’s not the smile I know – there’s something feral about it, something dangerous. “Powerful,” he growls, his voice deeper than before. “I feel... complete.”
He raises his hand, and shadows dance across his palm. “I can feel the magic, Finn. It’s... it’s incredible.”
I clap his shoulder and pull him into a firm, brotherly embrace.
It worked. There is nothing that can stop us now.
Turning back to the crowd, I spread my arms wide. “You see? This is what we were meant to be. This is our true form, hidden from us for generations. Who will be next?”
There’s a moment of hesitation. Then, slowly, a young Shadowkind steps forward.
“I am,” she says.
One by one, others step forward. The air fills with voices claiming their right to transformation.
I begin the process again, channelling the shadow magic into each volunteer. The cavern fills with screams of pain that gradually turn to cries of exultation. Wings unfurl, bodies reshape, eyes glow red in the darkness.
With each transformation, I feel the shadow magic within me grow stronger. It’s intoxicating, this power. Part of me wonders if this is what Eldrion felt like all the time.
Does he miss it now it is gone?
Will he mourn it for the rest of his sorry days?
I hope so, even though those days are numbered.
As the last of the volunteers completes their change, I survey the cavern. Where once stood a group of subdued, bound Shadowkind, now a host of powerful beings fill the space. Their wings scrape the ceiling, their eyes gleam.
Yarrow approaches me, his footsteps unnaturally quiet despite his increased size. “What now, my king?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.
I meet his gaze.
“Now,” I say, raising my voice and allowing it to rise and rise and echo and echo. “We take back what’s ours. Luminael will tremble before us. The Sunborne will pay for what they’ve done.” I pause, letting my words sink in. “And Alana Leafborne... Alana will see what true power looks like.”
THIRTEEN
