Lindell went back into Shale, to the big building in the middle district, close to the edge of the upper district. The library looked older than the buildings around it. The inside was dark, but not too dark. He searched for any mention of the Ivran rod, mostly looking for pictures that matched it. He found nothing, and he didn’t come across whoever Bazza had planned on sending to the library. Lindell went home around sunset. He slept so deeply that night he had a later start than he meant to in the morning. The sun was already fully up when he left, but he wasn’t alone on the road. He tensed when he glanced at the man who came up beside him.

  “Phoenix has business in Arkose?” Lindell asked.

  Wallace sighed. “We were hired to look into shadow related occurrences there. I now assume the cause is whatever you’re headed there for.” He raised a brow, waiting.

  Lindell was going to keep him waiting. “It could be something entirely unrelated.”

  Wallace sighed. “Yes, that will be the day.”

  Neither Lindell nor Wallace said anything more. By midday they had caught up with a group of four, but it wasn’t long before Lindell and Wallace had left them behind. Night came and the two made camp at the side of the road. They still hardly spoke to each other. In the morning they were off again, reaching Arkose at sunset. The town was at least the size of Shale, though possibly a little smaller. Lindell knew Wallace was following him, but didn’t look back at the other man on the way to the shop. He was dreading Wallace was right, that the artifact he had come for was dangerous.

  The shop was at the far end of the market. Lindell almost missed it, the entrance in an alley off to the side of the market. That was never reassuring. The shop was dim and dusty, the ceiling low. There was hardly room to walk with all the tables piled with various objects. Such things used to excite him. He used to find them fascinating, but now he just wondered if any of the objects were cursed or had other dangerous magic. He had seen too many terrifying objects.

  Lindell found the shopkeeper, a short older man, at the far end of the shop. The man stood behind a counter that was no less crowded than all the other surfaces in the shop. He had been expecting Lindell. He cleared a space on the counter and set a stone sundial there. There were strange carvings at the edge of the sundial. The stone was dark and dirty, but not at all cracked.

  “This was found buried in the ruins of Basalt,” the shopkeeper said.

  Basalt was a village out by the cursed desert. A village that had burned many years ago.

  “This doesn’t look old,” Lindell said. That wasn’t a good sign. It could mean some sort of magic was protecting it.

  “When was the sundial brought here?” Wallace asked, coming to stand beside Lindell.

  “Fourteen days ago,” the shopkeeper said.

  Wallace frowned. “That’s when the shadow occurrences on this street started.”

  The shopkeeper glanced at the sundial warily. “It’s cursed.” He looked at Lindell. “Half price. Four thousand coin. That’s as low as I will offer.”

  Four thousand? Had Bazza expected the museum to pay eight thousand for the sundial, or had he not known the cost?

  “Would you rather keep it?” Wallace asked. “I assume the shadows have been tormenting you as well?”

  The shopkeeper shivered, glancing at the sundial again. There were dark circles under his eyes, as though he hadn’t slept. “Take it then. Just take it.” He went through a door behind the counter and didn’t return.

  Wallace looked at Lindell and raised a brow again, waiting.

  “How certain are you this is the cause?” Lindell asked.

  “Mostly certain.” Wallace sighed. “I can see its magic, but we’ll take it to the inn. The two of us will watch it tonight and see what happens.” Witches could see magic. Lindell didn’t know what kind of magic Wallace had.

  Lindell nodded. “Alright.”

  Wallace took the sundial from the counter. Lindell was relieved he didn’t have to touch the thing. The two of them left the shop, going to the nearest inn. They got one room. There was a single bed and a small round table with two chairs. Wallace set the sundial on the table, then he and Lindell sat in the chairs. The sun had almost finished setting. Lindell lit a candle on the table, the flickering light casting shadows all over the room.

  “What sort of shadows are you expecting?” Lindell asked.

  “The kind that come off the wall and attack people,” Wallace said. “Though some just stalk and watch menacingly.”

  Lindell sighed, glancing at the sundial.

  “How did you hear about the sundial?” Wallace asked.

  “Bazza heard of it,” Lindell said. “I came to retrieve it.”

  Wallace stared at him without expression, watching closely. “He sent you. He sends you to find the artifacts, but he is the one who hears about them.”

  Lindell nodded. “I suppose so.”

  “Do you enjoy traveling?” Wallace asked.

  “You’re the second person to ask me that,” Lindell said. Cory had been the first.

  “Do you?” Wallace asked.

  “I don’t know,” Lindell said. “Sometimes. Sometimes I wonder if this is all a mistake. Other times I wonder if I want to do this, even if it isn’t a mistake.” It was a relief to say that out loud.

  “How did you meet Bazza?” Wallace asked.

  Lindell hesitated.

  “Just curious,” Wallace said, with one of those rare smiles. Usually he only smiled when he wasn’t dealing with the museum.

  “I met him two years ago, when he first came to Shale,” Lindell said. “He’s from Ivra, but he decided to settle in Oenum, in Shale. He was lost in the middle district, and I helped him find the inn. I saw him again at the market the next day. The two of us just started talking.” He hadn’t thought of back then in a long time. “Before long, we were friends. He bought a house in the upper district and decided to stay in Shale. The two of us found my parent’s journal in the old house, the one that’s now the museum. They wanted to open a museum with artifacts they had gathered on their travels. Bazza suggested the two of us do that. I ended up traveling to find new artifacts.”

  “Then you’re living your parent’s dream, not your own,” Wallace said.

  Those words hurt. Probably because they were true.

  Lindell hesitated again, but Wallace was as good a person to tell as any. Probably a better person to tell than most, seeing as he worked for Phoenix. “I’m worried the artifacts at the museum are dangerous. The ones I haven’t retrieved are horrific, and now I’m worried about what I may have brought home to Shale, not realizing how dangerous it is.”

  Wallace’s expression softened. “Phoenix believes at least some artifacts at the museum are dangerous, if not all the ones on the upper floor. We have a lot of experience to back up the belief that the artifacts are dangerous.”

  Lindell nodded. “Phoenix has had to intervene to destroy something five times.”

  “Have you talked to Bazza about this?” Wallace asked.

  “He says the artifacts are secure,” Lindell said. “I think he’s fonder of the museum than I am. I don’t want to disappoint him.”

  Wallace nodded slowly. “One of these days, the court is going to shut you down. Phoenix can only intervene so many times before your museum is deemed too dangerous to remain.”

  “I know,” Lindell said. “I’m afraid I’m looking forward to it.”

  A heavy silence settled over them. The shadows were still normal, cast by the candlelight. The shadows remained on the walls, how they should.

  “Living shadows probably aren’t the strangest thing you’ve seen,” Lindell said.

  “Or you,” Wallace said. “Cory told me about the Cave of Blood.”

  Lindell shivered at the memory. At least he had stopped having nightmares. “If Cory hadn’t been with me, I’m not sure I would have made it out of there.”

  “At least there was only one artifact so far that required a god to destroy it,” Wallace said. “The amulet.”

  Lindell tensed at the mention of the Amulet of Nightmares. Some didn’t believe anymore that the gods were real, but Lindell had met Vedrix, the God of Magic. Vedrix often worked with Phoenix. He had saved Lindell from the amulet. Anything else Lindell might have said left his mind when a shadow detached itself from the wall by the bed. Lindell and Wallace were on their feet swiftly. More shadows came off the ceiling, hovering in the air. They were shaped like birds, people, and even two fish that swam through the air.

  “There’s too many of them,” Wallace said. He glanced at the sundial. “We need to get out of here.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The runes on the outer edge of the sundial glowed with an ominous dark blue light. The shadows crept closer to Lindell and Wallace. Shadowy hands grabbed Lindell by the shoulders from behind. A shadow person had come off the wall behind him. Lindell pulled against the hands, but they were unnaturally strong. The hands moved to his throat and squeezed.

  The shadow let go suddenly, breaking apart into a dark mist that disappeared. Wallace grabbed Lindell’s shoulder, pulling him toward the door and out into the hall. Wallace shut the door and locked it behind them. Lindell wasn’t sure how much good a lock would do against shadows. Wallace turned to face Lindell, but something was different. Very different. It took Lindell’s mind a moment to catch up. The hall was lit by candles in holders along the walls. The light was dim, but it was enough to see by.

  Wallace’s skin was dark purple. His fingers were long and narrow. His eyes were a lighter shade of purple. He turned away and breathed in sharply, like something hurt. When he turned to face Lindell again, he was back to his usual self, and his fingers were a normal length again.

  “I suppose I should explain,” Wallace said, “but not out here.”

  The two of them got another room for the night. Wallace lit several candles, so there were as few shadows as possible. The two of them sat at the table, much like the one in the other room. This room had two beds.

  “I’m a corrupt soul mage,” Wallace said.

  Lindell didn’t know what that meant. “What’s a corrupt soul mage?”

  “Rarely, there are those who can use the magic inside of them, rather than just the magic of the world around them,” Wallace said. “They are soul mages. Their souls, and their magic, can become corrupt. I am not a danger to you. I can hide my corruption, but not if I need my full magic. I prefer to keep it a secret. The members of Phoenix know, and Kath of course.” Kath Vine was Knight Captain of Shale. She and Wallace were close.

  Lindell nodded slowly, thinking. “I trust you, and not only because you just saved me from that shadow. I won’t tell anyone.” He knew that included Bazza. He didn’t want to keep things from Bazza, but this wasn’t his to tell.

  Wallace looked relieved. “Thank you.”

  “Does it hurt?” Lindell asked. “When you release your corruption?”

  Wallace nodded. “And when I hide it, but it must be done.”

  “Phoenix can have the sundial,” Lindell said.

  Wallace looked surprised but also relieved. “The sundial likely has to do with Umbrunis, the God of Shadows. Phoenix will take a look at it. We will also look at the museum ledger. We’ve been trying to for a while, but Bazza has refused.”

  “I’ll talk to him about it,” Lindell said, the words coming out quiet. How many artifacts at the museum were like the sundial?

  He didn’t sleep, and he doubted Wallace was sleeping either. Lindell stared at the one shadowy corner, but nothing came out of the shadows. In the morning, the shadows were gone and Wallace retrieved the sundial. He wrapped it in a cloth that was a woven spell to suppress magic. The two of them left Arkose, stopping for the night without any trouble from the sundial, and reaching Shale the next sunset. Wallace headed for the office of Phoenix.

  It was late enough that Bazza wouldn’t be at the museum, so Lindell went home. He slept little that night, despite being exhausted. Bazza wouldn’t be happy about the sundial, but Lindell had no doubts the artifact was dangerous. In the morning, Bazza was in his office, looking through papers on his desk. He looked up with a smile when Lindell sat in the chair across from him.

  “How did it go?” Bazza asked.

  “The sundial was dangerous.” Lindell hesitated, then felt like a coward. He forced himself to sit up straighter in the hard wooden chair. “It’s with Phoenix.”

  Bazza’s smile vanished, a stormy look in his eyes. “Then we’ll have to get it back after they take a look at it.”

  Lindell thought of the shadows he’d seen at the inn in Arkose. Phoenix would likely destroy the sundial. He didn’t mention this, knowing it would only make things worse.

  “Things have gotten worse between the museum and the nobles,” Bazza said, frowning hard. Lindell knew that frown wasn’t just about the nobles, but at least half about the sundial, if not more.

  “Have they done anything yet?” Lindell asked.

  “Not yet,” Bazza said, “but Irwin is riling them up. He has them all against us.” He scowled. “I’m sure Hector is helping him.”

  Hector wouldn’t work with Irwin, even if they had a shared goal.

  Bazza sighed, looking back at his papers. “The court wants a full list of our artifacts.” He glanced at Lindell and smiled a little. “I’m sure you want to see Eireen, if she’s still around Shale. I can take care of this.” He patted the black book next to the papers. “It won’t take long with the ledger.”

  Lindell knew that meant Bazza would prefer to do it alone. He left the museum, going into the forest. Eireen was at the ruins, enjoying the morning sunlight. This time she was sitting on the ground in front of the well, but she stood when she saw him and hugged him tightly.

  Eireen pulled away after a moment, frowning hard. “Things have gotten worse while you were away. Nevyn and I have been listening around Shale. For now the court is busy with other matters, but eventually they will turn their full focus to the museum.”

  Lindell tried to be upset, but couldn’t muster it. “Maybe that’s for the best,” he said quietly.

  Eireen smiled slightly, a sadness in her eyes. “You should talk to Bazza.”

  “You know how much he loves the museum,” Lindell said.

  Eireen sighed. “Yes, but he’s constantly putting you in danger to keep the cursed place running.” She put her arms on his shoulders, looking up at him. “I worry he wants magical artifacts for a reason, that he’s seeking them out on purpose. Though I have no idea what that reason could be…”

  Lindell was about to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. Eireen’s words were exactly what he thought at night while lying awake. He didn’t want to believe that about Bazza.

  “It’s hard to believe so many dangerous artifacts are a coincidence,” Eireen said, voicing another of Lindell’s late night thoughts. She sighed. “Be careful.” She kissed him.

  As usual, it felt too soon when she pulled away. Lindell caught sight of someone standing among the trees. The man was taller than Lindell, and even taller than Hector. His long light brown hair was tied back, and his eyes were a darker shade of brown. His antlers and ears were just like Eireen’s, as well as his brown robes. Nevyn frowned at them before turning and walking back into the forest.

  Eireen sighed. “I should go. Sorry.” She leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “I love you.” She turned and walked away before he could say anything.

  He loved her too.

  -- --

  Lindell spent the rest of the day looking for anything on the Ivran rod. He still didn’t see anyone from the museum at the library. Had Bazza actually sent someone to find out more about the rod? Maybe they had tried while Lindell was away and had found nothing. He found nothing. The sun had already set when he left the library and headed home. Hector was waiting outside Lindell’s house.

  “Out late,” Hector said.

  “I was at the library,” Lindell said, unlocking the door.

  The two of them went inside without a word. Hector followed Lindell into the sitting room, where Lindell lit a fire in the hearth.

  “Tea?” Lindell asked.

  Hector shook his head. “No, but we need to talk.”

  They sat in the two chairs before the fire.

  Hector hesitated. “I’ve been looking into the murder of our parents.”

  Lindell didn’t know what to say. “The Knights of Shale searched—”

  “I know,” Hector said. “That doesn’t mean I can’t. They didn’t find out who did it, but maybe I’ll find something if I keep searching. We know they were traveling, that someone attacked them just outside of Basalt.” He looked away.

  “What did you find?” Lindell asked. Maybe that was why he’d been away for so long.

  Hector frowned hard. When he looked at Lindell, there was an odd sadness in his eyes. “I know I haven’t been a good brother over the years. After our parents… I’m sorry. You had no one. Maybe that’s why you think what you and Hardy have is friendship.” He was changing the subject.

  “It is friendship,” Lindell said.

  Hector shook his head. “No, it isn’t. I know you’re the one who gathers the artifacts, but he’s the one who sends you to retrieve them. I’ve been talking to people, asking around. I know the sort of places he’s sent you because he was too much of a coward to go there himself. He’s using you, and I’m worried he’s up to something terrible.”

  “He’s not using me,” Lindell said.

  “Then you wanted to gather those artifacts?” Hector asked. “Did you enjoy visiting the Cave of Blood? The North Cliffs of Ivra? The remains of Blackridge village in Luna, where feral wolves wiped out the entire village?” He leaned closer, anger in his eyes now. For a brief moment, by the light of the fire, his eyes looked different. It was over so quickly Lindell wasn’t sure what he’d seen. “Did you enjoy retrieving the cursed Amulet of Nightmares? I know anyone who touches it sees their worst fears, is lost in them.”

  “Phoenix broke the curse,” Lindell said, quickly pushing away the memories of that experience.

  “Hardy didn’t have to touch the damned thing and see its visions,” Hector said. “You did. Did he apologize?”

  Lindell hesitated.

  “No?” Hector didn’t look surprised. “He was disappointed, wasn’t he? Disappointed Phoenix had to destroy the amulet to save you.” He stood. “Think about it, Lindell. Are you alright with having been cursed, having seen things no one should have to see? All this for a friend who was more concerned about the artifacts than about you. What do you actually know about Bazza?” He didn’t wait for an answer, leaving the room and leaving Lindell to unpleasant thoughts.

  Lindell heard the front door close. He went and locked it, trying to banish those thoughts from his mind. He sat back before the fire, staring at it. There was something Hector hadn’t told him, about what he’d found looking into their parent’s murder. It was hard to wonder about that with everything else his brother had said. Now Eireen and Hector had both questioned Bazza’s motives. He put out the fire and went upstairs to bed.

  Lindell didn’t believe Bazza was up to something bad, or maybe he didn’t want to believe it. He quickly silenced that last thought. He would talk to Bazza about the artifacts. Even if Bazza wasn’t up to something, there had been too many dangerous artifacts. How many of the artifacts at the museum were dangerous and they just didn’t know yet? That thought followed him into another restless sleep.