Shadowhunter (Nephilim Quest Book 1) (22 page)

"Nephilim do have ordinary human lungs as well," Lilith explained, "but also another breathing system, which is connected to the wings. They can extract much more oxygen into their blood stream through their wings, and remain functional in situations where ordinary people would have lost consciousness for lack of oxygen. Such as under water."

A whole new series of questions developed in my mind, regarding mermaids, but there were too many to put into words right there and then.

Daniel was standing next to me, and I think my arm twitched a little – I could not help it, I so wanted to touch those beautiful wings again. In a snap his wings disappeared and his chest began to move with the rhythm of normal breathing again.

"OK, that's that. Wouldn't it be time to show Dana what we do here?" he asked lightly.

Somehow I was certain that he closed his wings so hastily, so that I could not touch them again. He turned to face Lilith, careful not to meet my eye.
 

Oddly, I felt insulted.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

27. Shadow on the Scent

The shadow ran tirelessly, casting back and forth. It had been seeking for clues along the four other major roads without stopping, but still hadn't found the scent of its prey. It was now heading for the fifth. It was patient. It knew eventually it would find the trail.

"Bring her unharmed," the Hunter had said, "she is important."

The shadow did not question its Hunter – but because of their connection, for a while it caught a glimpse of a memory in his mind. Buildings fell down, the sky filled with flame, shadows flew through the air, and there was a baby the Master wanted badly. Finally, the body of a young woman, twisted in an unnatural position on top of debris. Then the pictures disappeared, leaving only huge disappointment that something that should have been theirs had disappeared. It was a scene the shadow knew well, because it had been there too.

Probably the most terrifying thing about the shadows was that they lacked awareness of their own true nature. Their consciousness extended so far and no further, as if they were creatures that had been deliberately stopped at a particular stage of development.
 
Their belief in their own existence meant they would do anything, just like any other living thing, if they needed to fight for survival. They existed and ceased to exist in an illusion of individuality.
 

The shadow would please the Masters. It would find the one it was sent to fetch. That way it would live. Life was the goal - its own life.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

28. Grandma and the Book of Watchers

"This library is in the upper levels of the buffer zone, and we work constantly to keep it located there too. If you see people just sitting here with their eyes closed, they aren't sleeping! They're doing energy work to keep the library afloat in the higher levels of the buffer zone. It in a way floats in the mist, and it is not likely the creatures of lower levels could find it, as long as we manage to keep it up. Its existence has seeped into legends, though, and some call it the Akashic library," Grandma explained to me when I tried to take in the vastness of the library, swirling around like a dervish almost. "These books come from every age of history. We have saved many irreplaceable books from destruction. When we know there was a major fire in history, for example, that could destroy valuable texts, our teams travel back to try to reach the books before their destruction and bring them here. They do not belong in the physical world anymore, but they are kept safe here in the buffer zone."

We were walking through the library. Each apparently endless corridor was lined with bookshelves from the ceiling to the floor.  

"Don't you ever run out of space here?" I asked

"No. We create more space whenever necessary."

 "How?"

"That's something we teach to all our groups. How to master the material of the buffer zone with your thoughts. It is moldable energy after all. You just need to learn to use your mind as the tool to shape what you need."

"Really?"

"Yes. What you create, remains solid, as long as you keep on paying attention to it. That's it in a nutshell, but of course there is lot more to it, which you will learn with time, I am sure."

That sounded so sci-fi I thought I'd better not probe any further. Not now. To me thoughts weren't material. They were just... thoughts. How could they have substance? How could they create anything solid?

"Can you show me?" I asked Grandma.

"Of course - that's the best way..." She stopped and bent down so her palms touched the floor. She remained there, concentrating with her eyes closed. I noticed a slight smile on the corners of her mouth and at the same time the solid floor under her hands changed - it looked like plastic putty almost. She scooped it into her hand and straightened up. Then she put her other hand over the putty-like material and smiled, at her inner joke it seemed. The little hole on the floor slowly disappeared and soon the floor looked like it had never been touched.

I could see the material moving between the palms of Grandma's hands, changing color too. Then she opened her hands and there was an ornament - a little red cat sitting on her hand. It looked just like Nugget. I took it in my hand - it was perfect.

"You concentrate on what you want to create, take enough material to make it, and then think about your chosen object. It may not turn out what you want it to be, though. Depends on your emotions at that moment," Grandma wiped her hands on her jeans.

"Amazing... you even managed to create the exact look in Nugget's eyes!" I lifted the little ornament up to my eye level. Did I even see whiskers?

"Oh well, it's nothing much..." Grandma belittled her creation but I could see she was pleased at my reaction, "Now, let me show you something interesting."

She led me further into the library.

"Here is a part of the library we are especially proud of," Grandma pointed as we proceeded deeper into the library. "See all these scrolls?"

Indeed there were rows upon rows of scrolls on the shelves. Ancient looking in their shape, but not worn or crumbled with age as truly ancient manuscripts would be.

"These are from the library of Alexandria in Egypt."

I stopped in my tracks.

"Really?"

"Yes. The library demanded that every scroll that entered Alexandria was to be copied and put into the library collections. Every ship that came to the harbor had to comply. Scribes copied the texts and created one of the most fabulous libraries in the world, filled with knowledge from all the surrounding ancient kingdoms. The library burned down, and there is a saying circulating that you know you are a historian if the thought of the burning of the library in Alexandria still makes you cry."

I could relate to that.

"And you managed to save the scrolls?"

"Not all the scrolls, but these ones, yes. It was very dangerous - that was the farthest we have ever gone in history, and that's when you discover that the phrase 'the mists of time' is not just a meaningless one.
 
Reaching back so far is full of issues, but we sent one of our most experienced Time Walker teams to the scene and managed to get there. Local people were trying to save the scrolls, and they joined in the effort, dressed in the clothing of the time. They took as many scrolls as they possibly could, and brought them here."

"But shouldn't these scrolls be given back to the world?" I bent closer to see the scrolls nearest to us, not daring to touch them.

"That could change history. Besides, they look too new to convince anyone they are ancient, for the obvious reason they were brought to the buffer zone when still relatively new. No radiocarbon dating would show they are old.
 

"We only take books when they are about to be destroyed, and bring them here. And we bring many of them here because in some book or scroll, somewhere, there has to be something written about the location of the Book of Watchers. We need to find it."

"Lilith said that you were the one who found out about the Book of Watchers. That you hunted down a shadow and..."

"Yes... You see, Dana, I have been a Huntress since I was a teenager. I was invited to join the Time Walkers just like you - given the same dream book as you. It appeared one night on my desk and I thought it was my mother's - she was very interested in dream interpretation. So I read it and passed the lucid dreaming test. My skills were obviously in the hunting of shadows, and that is what I have been doing ever since. I suppose I have somewhat of a reputation in the world of shadows, and that is why I was so surprised a shadow had crept into your garden... they fear the Time Walker Hunters so much, and me especially, that I would have expected them to wait until I was somewhere else before approaching you."

"Approaching me? Why would they want to approach me?"

"All in good time, Dana..." Grandma said. "You'll hear it when the time is right. We'll see."

"Won't you just tell me what it is? Why all this cryptic we-shall-see-stuff?"

"I know I am right in certain things, but I may be wrong in others... I prefer not to talk about something until I am sure. But whatever the case, you need to stay here in safety for a while. We have actually come up with a plan with Reggie about how to get you away from your little town without drawing too much attention to the matter."

"Reggie?"

"That would be our history professor. Reginald Rowan. The same one who keeps on pulling out his hair after reading all the wonderful books and scripts in the library and not being able to use them as source material in his research. Can you imagine what it is like to a history researcher to hold the actual ancient proof that something happened in history, and because it is in this library and nowhere else, not being able to ever use it in the scientific circles of our ordinary world? Reading the theories of others, seeing their errors and knowing the actual truth, but never being able to say so?"

I had a feeling Grandma was trying to divert my thoughts away from why the shadows found me interesting. I let her. I would find out.

"Fill me in on the shadow and the Book of Watchers," I asked instead.

Her face grew serious.

"I was hunting shadows in the human world with my trustworthy red steed," she began. "My car," she specified with a twinkle when my face obviously showed I had no idea who or what the steed in question was.

"Oh, OK. Right. You chase them in your car?"

"Of course. The shadows are very, very fast, but they cannot outrun a decent sports car. After all they are semi-physical forms and subject to the laws of gravity like the rest of us. So they run using the surface under their feet, bouncing forward with their legs, just like us. This gives us an advantage here. Our form is more solid, and thus we have more power in our movements and deeds. Imagine someone jumping on the moon - they move like that, and can't quite use gravity to their advantage, even if they are still very fast."

We kept on walking along the corridors of the library. There were no lamps here, but light seemed to seep in from somewhere anyway. Everywhere, really.

"So, I had just bought my red sports car, and was on my patrol duty where we knew the shadows liked to appear, when I spotted this particular one. He was lurking in an alleyway, near a bar. That's one of their favourite locations
 
– the energies of intoxicated people draw them like a magnet. When drunk people leave the bar, they follow them so they can steal the person's energies, and if possible, reveal themselves - a downright terrifying sight for the drunk. They come in different shapes and forms, but they are all like something out of a horror movie. You were able to see them, when you were a child, do you remember?" she asked suddenly.

I stopped short. It was one thing thinking of drunks seeing demonic shadows and being convinced it was down to the drink, but this was now touching me personally. All the old night horrors sneered at me from the darker regions of my mind. I remembered the twisted forms, and the half-human, half-animal faces, the evil grins. Wherever there was a deep shadow, I'd been able to see them there as a child.
 

"You mean... they were not nightmares like mother said?"

"Oh they were nightmares, all right, only real ones. You refused to sleep in a dark room, because you had the ability to sense the shadows. And if they came close, you saw them too. Luckily for you, you were strongly protected, and they did not realize who you were. They were only drawn to you because of your ability to see them. Of course they thought they could scare you easily because of that, and that would make your energy easy to steal. They like stealing the energy of children, because it's so strong. They don't usually kill them, but they can come to drink their energy again and again, because children create new strong energy so quickly. Eventually, though, they cause the child to become ill, and maybe even die, if they feed on them too often."

"Ok, that's it. What do you mean by that? Who you were... and who protected me? I want an explanation right now." I put my foot down.

"No, I won't do that. Not yet. We shall see in a short while. I need to tell you about the shadow, the Book of Watchers, and our plans with Reggie for you first. All in good time."

Grandma was so frustrating! I actually stomped my foot against the floor, like an angry child, but she just smiled.

"So, I noticed this shadow, waiting in the alleyway near a bar. It wanted to scare someone, maybe even kill them, to feed on their energy. If you encounter a shadow doing this, you can actually watch the energy transferring from one to the other. It just leaks out. The scared person almost shoots out energy and the shadows roll that energy into a shape like a ball."

Revulsion probably showed on my face, because she continued, "Yes, the best way to describe it, strange though it sounds, is that it looks like a dirty snowball. And then they just eat the energy, leaving the person depleted of it and ill.  If they manage to scare someone to death, they get an enormous amount of energy - they can survive on it for weeks."