Shadow Duel (Prof Croft Book 9) by Brad Magnarella (ereader with android .txt) 📕

Several friends visited, including Mae and Bree-yark—though separately, I noticed. Tony, back from his cousins’ now that the apartment was deemed safe, popped in and out of my room throughout the week. He’d discovered Mad Libs, the choose-a-noun, choose-a-color game, and we laughed through an entire book together.

“Can this count toward my summer reading?” he asked.

“You’ll have to check with your mom, but I’m thinking probably not?”

Undeterred, he flipped the page and we started on the next one.

Claudius showed up too. By his surprised reaction, I suspected he’d meant to transport somewhere else, but he played it off well. He fished a couple Werther’s Originals from a pocket, and we enjoyed them together, him sucking and slurping contentedly, before he had to leave for wherever he’d intended to go.

“Oh!” he said, popping his head from the closing portal. “I’m supposed to tell you someone from the Order is coming tomorrow…”

I finally wrote my review for Gowdie’s. Giving the antique store four stars took an inordinate amount of willpower, and praising it, modestly or not, more still. But a deal was a deal, especially with swamp hags. In the end, I described their store as “enchanting” and the sisters as “colorful,” but I made sure to mention their aversion to haggling. The city didn’t need any more Doug the Shrubs.

I happened to be alone in the apartment the following day when a knock sounded on the door. Remembering Claudius’s parting message, I expected Gretchen. I was surprised to find one of the most powerful magic-users in the world standing on my threshold instead. She was dressed in slacks and a fern-green blouse, her long white hair braided neatly.

“Arianna,” I stammered.

“Hello, Everson,” she said in her strong, maternal voice.

She had been very close with my mother. In fact, she was the one who had delivered me in the Refuge. We hugged, and I showed her into the apartment.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Still tired, but improving every day.”

“Well, let’s see what we can do about that.”

With a few softly spoken words, she sent an invigorating charge through me. When the sensation settled, I felt like I’d just awakened from a power nap. My nerves hummed, rested and alert.

“Thanks,” I said, testing my legs. “Hey, would you mind taking a walk? I know you just got here, but I’ve been cooped up inside all week.”

Tabitha stirred enough on the divan to murmur, “You haven’t suffered alone.”

Arianna smiled. “Say no more. I know the feeling,” she added, perhaps referring to her time in the Harkless Rift.

We descended to the street and strolled through the West Village. It had rained earlier, and the air over the damp sidewalks smelled fresh. My legs bounced in a way they hadn’t in many days. Though Arianna said nothing, I suspected she’d restored at least part of the year of youth I’d bargained off to the hag sisters.

“You must be wondering why I never came,” she said.

“It did cross my mind,” I admitted.

“Our work in the interplanar realms has been eye-opening, Everson. At first, we believed the damage Chaos inflicted to have been limited, and that’s where we’ve focused our efforts. But the interplanar layers aren’t static. They’re always in flux. And with each shift, more breaches are exposed. Some resulted from that seminal event, but others are much older. Tens or even hundreds of thousands of years, in some cases. They explain why certain events occur cyclically. Some breaches we can close and others, we’ve learned, we cannot. We’re updating our maps to note the cycles. What this all means is that in addition to our work on the tears, we must remain in constant motion ourselves, shifting senior members to the episodic breaches we can’t close to repel anything coming through.”

“Are you saying you won’t be able to help down here?” I asked in concern. I always felt like a kid in Arianna’s presence, which wasn’t so strange when you considered she had a few centuries on me.

“We’ll help when and where we can. But given the state of things, you should never expect it. Always remember, the same magic that moves through us moves through you.” She looked at me meaningfully. “You’ve proven yourself more than capable, Everson. Just look at the events of last week.”

Sure, I’d listened to my magic, but I’d also gotten caught up in the flurry of events and moving pieces. I knew what she was saying, though. The ability was there. It was a matter of continuing to develop it through practice.

“Has this ever happened before?” I asked. “An entity threatening from a shadow present.”

“Not like this, no. Though the layer between the actual and the probable is thin, the ability to bridge the two was only developed one time, in one age, and then it was lost. Until the item reappeared.”

There was the Hermes Tablet and the Scythe of Cronus, so why was she using the singular?

“I’m not referring to either,” Arianna said, picking up the question. “I mean the container. The box was the work of superior magic, craftsmanship, and intense worship, while the Hermes Tablet, as well as the Scythe of Cronus, were manifestations of the realms being worshipped—gifts from the gods, as it were. Do you remember what I told you about your mother’s emo ball after it was destroyed?”

I pulled the glass orb from my pocket. The glowing mist inside shifted, filling me with her love.

“This is an object, but because my mother created it in a thought realm, it still exists there as pure Form. If it were to break again, another could be created from that Form.” The emo ball dimmed slightly as I understood what Arianna was telling me. “The same’s true of the Scythe of Cronus?”

“And the Hermes Tablet,” she confirmed. “They’re objects—powerful objects—but they came from Forms that still exist in their original realms.”

Which meant the Scythe of Cronus could reappear. I remembered the giant shadow that had appeared opposite me the moment before the scythe’s destruction. In that moment, I’d