holding them captive in the small space they filled. Beyond the unseen barrier, the everyday world faded until there was only dusky night alive with that terrible sound. Shealy clapped her hands over her ears and so did Donnell, both of them turning in place, searching for an exit. Seeking an explanation.
Beneath her feet the asphalt began to rumble and shake. Pieces of the parking lot cracked, spidering like a shattered windshield. Was it an earthquake? A car alarm joined the melee, as if in response to her panicked thoughts. She grasped at a perverse sense of comfort the explanation brought. Earthquakes were real. Shadows that hemmed people in weren’t.
But even as she thought it the darkness to her left split down the middle, like a huge piece of velvet ripped in two. She heard the sound of it tearing, felt her breath seize in her chest as she watched the fissure grow. Felt again that unfathomable sense of déjà vu. Through the rent in the night, she saw a rock and shale wall shooting straight up and perpendicular to the earth. At its base there was a huge stone plateau and on it stood a man and teenage boy.
Mouth dry, Shealy saw the man suddenly look up, his golden brown eyes wide with shock. For an instant they stared at one another, Shealy and this man, and she felt the touch of that glance like she did the heat, the fear.
A queer sense of recognition staggered her.
There was no way she’d met this man before and then forgotten him. No possible way. He stood well over six feet, perhaps even six-five. Tall and muscular, so perfectly sculpted the Greeks might have used him as the model of Atlas, holding the world on his shoulders. A wound seeped blood into the fabric of his open shirt and splattered the burnished skin of his tight massive chest and muscular abdomen, but he stood tall and strong. And those eyes...those incredible eyes....
Who was he? Where was he?
Donnell muttered something that sounded like Tier Nawn and squeezed her hand tightly. She jerked her gaze from the man to her dad, saw the anger and . . . recognition in his face.
She’d barely had time to process that not only did Donnell see the man, but he recognized him too, when a second section of darkness shredded to her right and through the gaping hole she saw another man, standing alone in a white room that gleamed with marble. Like a photonegative of the dark and powerful warrior to her left, this one had pale skin with blue eyes that blazed with rage and...triumph.
“Feck,” her father shouted and tried to put Shealy behind him, but the world shuddered violently and nearly knocking them off their feet. As if looking through windows, the two men caught sight of one another and the reaction was instantaneous. Murderous.
The one with the golden-brown eyes lunged forward, exploding from the gash in the darkness like a demon. The pale man moved only seconds slower. In a heartbeat they stood in the swirling circle of confusion with Shealy and her dad trapped in the middle between them.
The blond man made a grab for Shealy, but her father blocked it. Enraged, he struck Donnell hard in the face, making him stagger back. Shealy’s screams joined the chaos as she tried to get around her father and stop his attacker. Her dad was not as strong as he used to be—illness had withered away much of the brawn that he’d once worn so easily. But he seemed determined to keep her safe.
The pale man came at them again, but the dark one with the luminous golden eyes—the one her dad had called Tier Nawn—shoved the other man back, shouting something at him that Shealy couldn’t understand. It felt like the world exploded, imploded, ripping free of its moorings. Everything began to spin.
The ruptures in the darkness shrank, that gummy membrane surrounding them grew tighter, pinning them. And yet, the pale man strode forward easily, intent on Shealy. She didn’t know why, didn’t know how to evade
Beneath her feet the asphalt began to rumble and shake. Pieces of the parking lot cracked, spidering like a shattered windshield. Was it an earthquake? A car alarm joined the melee, as if in response to her panicked thoughts. She grasped at a perverse sense of comfort the explanation brought. Earthquakes were real. Shadows that hemmed people in weren’t.
But even as she thought it the darkness to her left split down the middle, like a huge piece of velvet ripped in two. She heard the sound of it tearing, felt her breath seize in her chest as she watched the fissure grow. Felt again that unfathomable sense of déjà vu. Through the rent in the night, she saw a rock and shale wall shooting straight up and perpendicular to the earth. At its base there was a huge stone plateau and on it stood a man and teenage boy.
Mouth dry, Shealy saw the man suddenly look up, his golden brown eyes wide with shock. For an instant they stared at one another, Shealy and this man, and she felt the touch of that glance like she did the heat, the fear.
A queer sense of recognition staggered her.
There was no way she’d met this man before and then forgotten him. No possible way. He stood well over six feet, perhaps even six-five. Tall and muscular, so perfectly sculpted the Greeks might have used him as the model of Atlas, holding the world on his shoulders. A wound seeped blood into the fabric of his open shirt and splattered the burnished skin of his tight massive chest and muscular abdomen, but he stood tall and strong. And those eyes...those incredible eyes....
Who was he? Where was he?
Donnell muttered something that sounded like Tier Nawn and squeezed her hand tightly. She jerked her gaze from the man to her dad, saw the anger and . . . recognition in his face.
She’d barely had time to process that not only did Donnell see the man, but he recognized him too, when a second section of darkness shredded to her right and through the gaping hole she saw another man, standing alone in a white room that gleamed with marble. Like a photonegative of the dark and powerful warrior to her left, this one had pale skin with blue eyes that blazed with rage and...triumph.
“Feck,” her father shouted and tried to put Shealy behind him, but the world shuddered violently and nearly knocking them off their feet. As if looking through windows, the two men caught sight of one another and the reaction was instantaneous. Murderous.
The one with the golden-brown eyes lunged forward, exploding from the gash in the darkness like a demon. The pale man moved only seconds slower. In a heartbeat they stood in the swirling circle of confusion with Shealy and her dad trapped in the middle between them.
The blond man made a grab for Shealy, but her father blocked it. Enraged, he struck Donnell hard in the face, making him stagger back. Shealy’s screams joined the chaos as she tried to get around her father and stop his attacker. Her dad was not as strong as he used to be—illness had withered away much of the brawn that he’d once worn so easily. But he seemed determined to keep her safe.
The pale man came at them again, but the dark one with the luminous golden eyes—the one her dad had called Tier Nawn—shoved the other man back, shouting something at him that Shealy couldn’t understand. It felt like the world exploded, imploded, ripping free of its moorings. Everything began to spin.
The ruptures in the darkness shrank, that gummy membrane surrounding them grew tighter, pinning them. And yet, the pale man strode forward easily, intent on Shealy. She didn’t know why, didn’t know how to evade
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