A Culling of Shadow (Echoes of the Untold Age Book 3) by JM Guillen

Author:JM Guillen [Guillen, JM]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Irrational Worlds
Published: 2019-04-09T22:00:00+00:00

“My love is one who has no name,

skin so fair, our passion flame.

Her golden hair dances with the wind.

Warmth and sweetness, without end.

She dwells in darkened cranny-nooks,

protects children, studies books.

Even come the Coldest Night,

her beauty brings forth love and light.

Stooped and short at the end of days,

still she'll draw my loving gaze.”

Those words echoed softly in my heart, as I knew they ever would. I would remember them for all time.

“Ciaran.” I turned to her, a weary smile on my face. “It’s a good thought, Jax speaks true. Yet you are human born. It cannot be expected that a riddle of the fair folke—”

“A candle.” She stared at Jax, eyes solemn. “That is my answer.”

“What.” My mouth fell open.

“I only accept correct answers.” Jax gave me a lazy, mocking smile.

“The golden hair represents the flame, fair skin the wax. She keeps one warm, brings light. In her old age she stands stooped and short,” Ciaran said.

“Yes!” Jax crowed, his laughter pealing like a bell in those shadows. “Oh yes, Ciaran of Unterfels. Very well done!”

“I mean.” I stared at them both, my eyes like a cow’s. “How could she not know? Obvious.”

An uncanny tingle sang in the air; my head swam as if drunk on wine.

Jax’s eyes grew light again, shining brilliance. He turned his gaze upon her, smiled wide and wicked. “Ask, Ciaran.”

“Ryker Carrows prepares a blasphemous ritual, plans to perform a casting of pain and darkness Samhain night.” She glanced up at me, just for a moment. “Where is this ritual to be conjured?”

I couldn’t help a tiny, fierce smile. This phrasing would do my own kind proud. Likely, we would find Carrows and the victims both with this question.

If fortunate, we might find the Canny Man, who languished yet.

Jax nodded.

Colorless light danced within his eyes, a shine that hinted at patterns none could understand. For a moment, Jax stared far away and grew still as stone.

When he spoke, his voice no longer belonged to him. Gone the poetic cadence that wove through Jax’s words, instead it resounded with a deep baritone. Strangeling whispers echoed at the edge of his syllables.

“The ritual is cast in the shadows… of the human village of Gilead… in the northern reaches of this wilderness… seek there a crimson temple of depravity.” Jax shook his head, wincing a bit, as if he saw something he did not care for.

“Gilead.” Ciaran bit her lip. “I’ve heard of it but never have I been.”

For a long moment, Jax paused and stared into nothingness with those empty eyes. Within their depths, colorless flame danced.

After a moment they grew dark again. Jax blinked rapidly.

“Gilead,” I repeated. “I believe I passed that way as I entered the wood, but…”

“But?” Ciaran raised an eyebrow.

“I took no road. I wandered in the wilderness.”

“So we have no way to find it.” Ciaran twisted one braid, thinking.

“In troth, we need not know.” Jax shook his head, as if to cast away the cobwebs of Telling. “Any human village will inform us.”

“And how is that?” I pulled my cloak tighter around myself; the wind grew sharp.

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