Wings of Shadow (The Underground Trilogy) Read online

  WINGS OF SHADOW

  Anna Kyss

  WINGS OF SHADOW

  Anna Kyss

  Copyright © 2012

  All Rights Reserved.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Cover art by Renu Sharma

  http://renutheartist.deviantart.com/

  Edited by Red Adept Editing

  http://redadeptpublishing.com/editing-services/

  Layout provided by Everything Indie

  http://www.everything-indie.com

  With thanks to the following sources:

  Darwin, Charles (1859), On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life.

  CONTENTS

  Beginnings

  Mind the Gap

  On the Origin of Species

  Out of the Frying Pan

  Flight of the Peacock

  Meghan-on-the-Wold

  I Don’t Believe in Faeries!

  Mr. Darwin

  Wings of Light

  The Queen’s Abode

  Twilight Rendezvous

  The Sky Tree

  The Gift of Survival

  Not the Typical Rite of Passage

  The Peacock Takes Charge

  Truth or Dare

  The Four Seasons

  A Grumpy Faerie

  The Ankh of Immortality

  The Green Man’s Mumblings

  Reunions

  The Wrong Season

  The Sacrifice

  Wings of Shadow

  A Fairy’s Journal

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Beginnings

  “Killian, please. Do not do this. The twins must not be separated, especially at such a young age,” Selena pleaded.

  “Silence, Mother! The treaty is signed. My first-born is destined to rule in my place. He requires proper training.”

  The noise of the crowd rose, and Selena looked across the meadow to see the villagers gathering around a table. Her grandsons were seated in front of a tiered cake, eyeing the sugared violets that dotted the rosy frosting. Their tiny heads leaned forward, brown curls and blond locks blending. As the crowd began to count, both brothers took a deep breath.

  “Three!” the villagers yelled, and the boys blew, cheeks puffing with their exertions. The three tiny flames glowing atop hand-dipped candles flickered out. The boys clapped in delight and reached toward the cake.

  Selena chuckled to see the twins poke their tiny fingers into the uncut cake to pull away the sugared flowers. Seemingly content with nibbling the sweet violets, the boys rushed away to play. Their hand-carved wooden plates lay abandoned.

  Her smile disappeared as her son stepped forward from the edge of the meadow.

  Killian’s ebony cape flapped in the wind. “It is time.”

  His wife, Alannah, smoothed her long gown and nodded her assent. “I expect you to honor the treaty terms.” She gazed at the two boys frolicking in the meadow.

  He laughed. “So little trust!”

  Selena stood to the side, stoically listening to their conversation. She pursed her lips together, holding in her protests. They had all been spoken before, countless times, and to no avail.

  The two boys danced in the meadow, spinning until they fell down giggling. Imprinting this last memory of the twins in her mind, Selena ignored the tear sliding down her cheek.

  Killian marched over and took her dear Kiernan firmly by the hand. Her feisty grandson resisted, but his father yanked his arm until they walked side-by-side. Selena watched as they turned away from the village and headed toward a path leading into the city. The abandoned twin threw himself down to the grass, crying and calling for his brother.

  Before father and son passed the village boundary, Selena rushed over to them, stopping her golden-haired grandson. He leapt into her arms for an enormous hug, his fingers, still sticky with frosting, clutching her neck.

  “Kiernan, remember the Light,” she whispered. “Remember the Light.”

  Mind the Gap

  ~ 1 ~

  Meghan bounced down the scratched wooden steps of the hostel. Her thoughts were on all the possibilities that tonight held. When she saw Kiernan waiting at the bottom, she forced herself to slow her pace. She didn’t want to seem too eager, even if she felt that inner anticipation brimming. Though he appeared calm, his eyes twinkled with excitement.

  “I planned something special for tonight,” he said, taking her hand and leading her out of the hostel.

  Focusing on the tingle radiating between their two hands, she barely noticed as he wove her through the crowded London sidewalks. She tried to quell the excitement that arose every time she was near him. They soon reached the river. The journey had taken place in complete silence, but he seemed just as content as she was. Did he notice the tingling, too? Kiernan guided her further down the street as a gentle drizzle began to fall. They reached the stairs leading down into The Underground, hurrying to avoid the rain.

  “The Underground? Are we riding the subway somewhere?” Meghan asked.

  “In London, we call it ‘The Tube,’” he said.

  The crowd grew thicker as they descended into the tunnel. She clutched Kiernan’s hand when she was jostled by people making their way toward the trains. She would have felt lost on her own. She could barely pay attention to what they passed due to the speed of the crowd. Closing her eyes, she found herself propelled forward. Meghan was unsure if her momentum was due to Kiernan’s strong pull as he continued to hold her hand or the push of the people pulsing around her. Finally, they arrived at the station.

  “Is it going to be this crowded on the train?” she sighed, tucking back wisps of her hair.

  Kiernan smiled and squeezed her hand. “It will seem like we have these tracks all to ourselves.”

  As the train roared into the station, the crowd pressed forward, eager to rush aboard. He held her back until the doors closed and the train shot off into the unlit tunnel.

  “Are we waiting for another train?” Meghan asked.

  Not responding, Kiernan walked over the visual warning painted on the concrete to “Mind the Gap” and jumped down into the recess where the tracks ran. He turned and reached for her. If Meghan’s heart had been thumping before, it had begun doing somersaults inside her chest, possibly even Olympic-qualifying somersaults.

  “Coming?” The corners of his mouth creased upward as his eyes bore into her.

  Meghan couldn’t deny Kiernan when he looked at her like that. His smile did something to her insides, as if she had taken an instant calming serum. Luckily, the rational side of her kicked into gear. How could she follow him, no matter how much she wanted to do so? Jumping into the area where the train passed was dangerous. Rules were invented for reasons, after all, and she didn’t want to be electrocuted or run over by the next train. Who knew what else could happen? Just thinking about all of the grim possibilities made her breathing quicken. No, jumping into that gap would be just plain foolish.

  As she gathered the courage to step back and say goodnight to Kiernan, he smiled at her again.
She gazed into his sky-blue eyes and jumped down into the recess as well. His warm hands grabbed her around the waist and eased her safely next to him.

  “Be careful of the rails,” he warned.

  After she crept over the metal tracks, Kiernan boosted her up to the opposite side of the recess. The empty station looked abandoned from across that long, wide gap. As Meghan stared at the desolate metal benches that had become unreachable, she wondered how she had strayed so far away. Why had her caution and hesitation disappeared? She had easily stood up to the temptations presented in high school—never taking a drink or trying a cigarette. But the smile of a pretty boy was enough to make her follow? Closing her eyes, Meghan squeezed her fists, nails digging into her skin.

  Appearing oblivious to her distress, Kiernan pulled himself up after her, and gracefully balanced on the narrow ledge of concrete. He led her along the edge, toward the same tunnel the Tube had just passed through.

  Meghan pulled back. “Kiernan, stop! This isn’t my thing. When you asked me out, I thought we might go out to eat or hit a club. Hopping subway tracks and heading into dark tunnels is not my idea of a fun evening.” She was determined to set some firm boundaries with the handsome boy.

  Kiernan continued to walk, tugging gently on her arm. “I’m taking you sightseeing to a part of London few ever have the chance to see. There’s even a hidden club.”

  When she hesitated, Kiernan leaned close and murmured, “Trust me.” His blue eyes held her gaze for a long moment. And then, he held out his hand.

  She was confused. She had been determined to leave, but now could think only of spending the evening with him. Setting aside her misgivings, Meghan took his hand and followed him into the tunnel. The light dimmed as they traveled further from the station. She squeezed Kiernan’s hand, trying to balance on the narrow ledge that lined the recess of the tunnel. The curve of the wall further reduced the space to walk, and she huddled against the graffiti-covered concrete, taking careful steps. As she stepped onto something squishy, her foot slipped off the ledge.

  “Careful now! Watch your step,” Kiernan teased, gripping her hand.

  She glared at him. “Look, I’m not enjoying myself. The nightclub better be amazing because right now, this is the worst date ever.”

  “Where’s your sense of adventure?” Kiernan winked.

  Meghan wiped a slick layer of sweat off her forehead. “Adventure? Interacting with whatever lives down in that black pit is your idea of an adventure?”

  “Ah… you don’t care for the resident rats.”

  As she quieted her inner squeal, Kiernan pulled her to the left. Meghan stumbled into a smaller tunnel offshoot. Regaining her balance, she looked around. This narrow corridor didn’t have tracks for the Tube or any gaping recess.

  Kiernan leaned close and pretended to nibble on her shoulder. “So, you don’t like the little rats. What about the big, bad rat leader?”

  Laughing, she pushed him away. Staying mad at Kiernan was so hard. His charm was irresistible at times.

  “So, I still have the power to make you smile, even on the worst date ever?”

  Meghan shrugged. “It’s much easier to relax when I’m not worrying about being flattened by a train. Anyway, what is this? A maintenance tunnel?” She noticed a light glowing in the distance.

  He grinned and shook his head. “Impatient, are we?”

  She sighed. “I am walking around dark tunnels underneath London. This was not covered in my ‘travel-abroad rules,’ but I know my mother would flip if she found out.”

  “What is that ‘human’ saying? Ah, yes, ‘rules are made to be broken.’” He walked further down the tunnel, heading toward the light.

  “But I like to follow rules.” Meghan puzzled over the odd phrasing that he had used. “Kiernan, did you mean ‘American’ saying?”

  He froze. His jaw clenched, and he stumbled over his response. “Um… yes. Sorry. I meant American.”

  She stared at him. Kiernan was one of those people who always knew the right thing to say. That was the first time she had heard him at a loss for words.

  Soon, they arrived at an antique gas lamp. Underneath the flickering light, a yellowing poster depicted an old-fashioned portrait. In the bottom corner was a quote written in the pristine handwriting of a different era:

  It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change.

  “Is that a picture of Charles Darwin?” she asked, looking closer at the poster.

  He nodded. “My father is a huge Darwin fan.”

  “Your father? Why would he hang a poster all the way down here?”

  “My, you are filled with questions tonight.”

  He hadn’t really answered, though. She wondered why he was being evasive.

  On the Origin of Species

  ~ 2 ~

  A heavy wooden door with a large metal knocker stood at the end of the corridor, illuminated by the yellow glow of the gas lamp. Kiernan banged the knocker three times, then tapped it two additional times.

  “Is that the secret knock to get into this mysterious club?” Meghan joked.

  Kiernan winked, and then the door opened. A strange man stood in front of them. Looking as though he stepped out of a story from one hundred years ago, he was dressed in gray trousers, a lavender button-down shirt, and a purple silk vest. On his head sat a gray top hat. Even odder, protruding from his back were thick silver wires that swirled into spiraling wings. The man raised a monocle to his eye and peered through it. Meghan stared. She was crossing that obscure boundary into rudeness, but she wasn’t able to stop herself. The man was one of the oddest people she’d ever seen.

  Still looking through his little glass, the man cleared his throat. “Yes, yes. Master Kiernan, welcome back. You are bringing one guest tonight, my young lord?”

  Kiernan grimaced. “Yes, Barnaby. The lovely Meghan will be my guest tonight.”

  “Very good, sir. Enjoy the evening.” The man turned from them and resumed his post at the door.

  “Kiernan, who was that man? He was rather odd. And why was he calling you ‘lord’ and ‘master’?”

  “Barnaby is our door man. He’s eccentric, but he’s also loyal and dedicated, which is more than you can say about many employees, right?” Kiernan led her through a narrow stone hallway.

  It wasn’t lost on Meghan that he had evaded another question. As she attempted to rephrase it, Kiernan brought her to a narrow stone staircase that wound up a stone turret reminiscent of a castle. The top stair opened onto a small, private balcony overlooking a massive stone chamber.

  She gasped. Below, hundreds of people filled the chamber, dancing to live band music.

  “Welcome to the Underground,” Kiernan whispered.

  “This is amazing! Who would have imagined that there would be a club all the way down here? How do people even know about it?”

  “Most people have forgotten these old Tube tunnels and chambers even exist. Entry is by invitation only. We try to keep it rather private.” He took her hand. “Do you want to go down to the floor? We could dance.”

  They made their way down the narrow stone steps, and Kiernan led her through a hallway that opened up to the dance chamber. As they entered, Meghan was struck by the immensity of the room. Aside from the unique location, the manner of dress of the dancers was also quite different. In fact, she and Kiernan, in their jeans and t-shirts, stood out among the crowd.

  Some people dressed in old-fashioned clothing in a style similar to Barnaby’s. Who would have imagined he was being trendy? Another group dressed entirely in black, with prominent piercings and tattoos. Everyone wore wings, but not the typical angel or butterfly wings that little kids wore on Halloween. No, the wings were creative, made of wire, metal, fabric, leather, and other materials.

  Meghan looked around, eyes wide. She felt as though she had just fallen down Alice’s rabbit hole. The anxiety she had experi
enced in the tunnel was gone, replaced with intrigue and wonder.

  “Kiernan, we’re out of place here. We forgot to wear our wings,” she joked.

  He stiffened and didn’t respond. She glanced at him. His normal carefree manner had disappeared.

  Leading her through the crowd, Kiernan said, “Let’s dance.”

  The music was fast and unfamiliar. Meghan had never been very graceful or even very coordinated, but the music was haunting and intoxicating, and she danced without remembering to feel self-conscious. She tried to pay attention to the lyrics, but soon realized they were in a different language.

  Glancing at Kiernan, she found he was watching her. Meghan matched his gaze for a moment, than shyly looked away. Kiernan danced around her, his blond hair flying in all directions, as he moved his head to the beat of the music. His tattoos—spiral abstracts swirling their way around his upper arms—glistened, despite the dimness of the light. If only she were brave enough to reach out and touch him.

  People surrounded her, everyone dancing and swaying to the unusual music. Wings of every shape and size bobbed, and Meghan couldn’t stop staring at them. A tall, dark-haired girl wearing a vintage velvet ball gown danced nearby. She had tiny velvet wings made from the same plum-colored material as her gown.

  The girl smiled, a silver lip ring rising with the curve of her mouth. “Found yourself a new friend, Kiernan?”

  “This is Meghan,” he called, still moving to the beat.

  “They call me Raine. Have a bloody fun night!” the plum-dressed girl yelled back before being swallowed up by the other dancers.

  A short man dressed in shredded black clothing stomped to the beat. Meghan suspected the shredding was a deliberate effect, as it formed too neat a pattern to have been accidental. On the man’s back was the most amazing pair of wings she had seen all night, made of gears and the faces of watches. As the gears and cogs turned, the clock faces ticked, each set to a different time. How could he possibly keep track of what time it really was?