Shadow and Stone by James Hornby

Shadow and Stone by James Hornby
Illustration by Rosalie Mauer

​Chris and Jhe Sang Mi cruised down the open road, the bright orange bodywork of the Honda Element shining ever brighter in the light of the dusk sky. Sang Mi’s eyes began to droop as the falling sun became masked by a border of tall trees. 

“Get some shut-eye if you need it,” said Chris. “It’ll be some time before the next stop.”

“It’s alright,” said Sang Mi, rubbing her eyes. “It’s not fair for you to drive in the dark without some distraction.” She grinned. “Besides, my world isn’t exactly known for its lush greenery. Who knows what’s hiding beneath those trees.”

“Exactly,” said Chris, a little graver than Sang Mi was expecting. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Not a fan of the big spooky woods?”

He shuffled in his seat, adjusting the seat belt. “I’m not sure,” he said with a frown. “I’ve just got a weird feeling, that’s all.”

“A weird feeling because of the big spooky woods?” Sang Mi poked.

Chris’s frown deepened, and Sang Mi cottoned on that it wasn’t the sort of conversation to joke around in. 

“Chris, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he repeated, cracking his neck and wincing. “I can… feel that something isn’t right, like, in my bones.”

Sang Mi held back on making a joke about his age. “I don’t feel anything,” she said. 

“Hmm,” said Chris. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” He offered her a weak smile. “Anyways, the sun’s hanging low. Let’s push on and try to find a motel before morning.”

The car drove into the treeline, and after how long the day had been darkness descended too quickly. Sang Mi got a buzz of excitement watching the trees whiz past. The trees looked alien to her. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that feeling felt wrong. This was humanity’s home, or so they said. Her world had no trees, and instead huge machines provided the oxygen she needed to breathe. Somehow, she felt cheated by that. 

A blur of movement caught her attention. Sang Mi craned her neck to see a deer galloping through the woodland. She beamed at the sight. 

“Hey, look!” she called to Chris, nudging him with her elbow so hard that he almost lost control of the wheel. 

“What?” asked Chris, desperately assessing the road in front of him to make sure there wasn’t anything he’d missed.

“A deer in the trees,” Sang Mi explained, and pointed in the direction she’d made the sighting. 

When she looked back, the deer was gone without a trade. 

A twinge of disappointment washed over her. Still, she continued to look out of the window, hopeful of seeing something else in the wilderness beyond their vehicle. 

“This is really exciting you, isn’t it?” said Chris, with his amazing talent for pointing out the obvious. 

“It’s the mystery of it all,” said Sang Mi, grinning with all the joy of a child in a toy shop. “Nature is just allowed to do what it wants here. Within those trees could be absolutely anything. Back on Gongen, we sort of know what to expect: everything was built with schematics. Nature is just… wild.”

“Most people find that scary,” said Chris.

Not me, thought Sang Mi. If she had the choice, she’d have places planted like this all over Gongen. Perhaps one day she would. 

Peering out of the window once more, she studied the strips of grass at the side of the road. They had clearly been trimmed by humans to stop foliage from encroaching onto the travel route, but even so, compressed patches could be seen throughout, hinting at activity from the area wildlife. Sang Mi assumed that local fauna crossed the road often, oblivious of its significance to humans. 

Again Sang Mi’s eyes were drawn to movement. This time she gasped in terror. 

At the side of the road, peering out from behind the trunk of a tree, was a figure. 

It was around six feet tall, and vaguely humanoid in shape. Apart from that, Sang Mi could tell nothing more. Its features were non-existent. Not shadowed by the scarcity of light. Black. And as quickly as Sang Mi had spotted the figure, its rounded head slunk back behind the tree and out of sight. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Chris, this time making sure to keep his eyes on the road to avoid an accident.

Sang Mi was as white as a sheet. “There was… something out there.”

“What do you mean ’something’?” asked Chris, dismissively. “Of course there is. They’ll be foxes and all sorts out there.”

“No, no, no,” said Sang Mi, trying to convey her seriousness. “It was something else. Something odd.”

“Odd,” said Chris, not totally buying in, likely due to her overexcitement at seeing a deer. 

“It was a figure,” Sang Mi explained, or at least tried to. “Except, everything about it was just… black.”

Chris frowned. “Are you sure you don’t need that nap? I really don’t mind. After that scare you gave me with the deer, I think I will be alert for hours.”

Sang Mi was starting to get irritated. “Chris, I’m serious. There was something out there.”

“Alright, I believe you,” Chris said, in the most unconvincing way possible. 

Sang Mi rolled her eyes in annoyance, and tried to resist the urge to punch him in the arm. Instead, she took a deep breath, and refocused her attention outside. 

Another figure, ahead, peering out from behind a tree on her side of the road. 

“There!” Sang Mi bellowed, pointing.

Chris leaned over the steering wheel to get a closer look. His straining eyes and rapid blinks told Sang Mi he hadn’t seen anything. 

“Sorry,” he told her, “I didn’t see anything.” This time, however, something about his tone told her he wasn’t quite ready to dismiss it. 

“Do you still have that weird feeling?” Sang Mi asked.

“It never went away,” Chris confirmed. 

Sang Mi kept her eyes on the treeline, and sure enough, another black figure came into view, staring at them, just like the others, from the cover of a trunk. 

“Don’t worry, I see it this time,” said Chris, before Sang Mi had the chance. 

The two of them both tried to grasp something, anything they could of what the creature looked like, but again, even in the headlights of the car, aside from its otherwise human-like shape, all they saw of it was shadow. 

“What the hell is it?” asked Sang Mi. Her heart raced as she watched the figure retreat behind the tree once the car drew near.

“No idea,” said Chris. “But I’m willing to bet it has something to do with my weird feeling.”

Chris drove the Honda down the lonely forest track, and as they spied, once every ten or twenty trees they passed, more figures cloaked in darkness spied back.

“There’s more of them now,” said Sang Mi, pointing to a tree at Chris’s side of the road, where the silhouette of two heads were visible behind a nearby tree. Slightly further ahead, two more figures stood at the side of the road on the grass verge. Even in the full beam of the headlights, and obscured by no obstacle, the figures remained bathed in darkness. The only new feature they could see was that they were truly humanoid: two arms, two legs, one head. Everything else was black. 

“Chris, watch out!”

Another humanoid figure appeared in the headlights. Sang Mi only had time to notice a mop of long curly hair and a red coat before Chris slammed on the breaks. Tyres screeched and the two of them clenched their teeth. The car came skidding to a halt in the nick of time. 

Standing, bathed in the glow of the headlights, was an elderly man dressed in tattered jeans and a thick burgundy pea coat. His bedraggled grey hair and untrimmed beard made him look like he hadn’t washed in weeks. 

Sang Mi breathed a sigh of relief. Their trip across America had been weird enough without killing Santa as well.

“I don’t believe it,” said Chris, unlocking the doors. 

Sang Mi grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?” she hissed. “Those creatures are out there!”

Chris ignored her protest and yanked himself free of her grasp. He opened the door, planted one foot on the ground and hauled himself out of the car.

“Of all the places in the world to run into Charles Zoltan, a dark forest in the middle of America was the last place I would have expected.”

Sang Mi was surprised, and quietly relieved, to see that the old man was familiar to Chris. 

“Christopher Cwej!” The old man beamed with the kindest smile Sang Mi had ever seen. Maybe he is Santa, she thought. “What in the heavens are you doing here?”

“I’m on a road trip,” said Chris, by way of piss poor explanation. “What about you?”

“I think you might have a good idea,” said Zoltan, “If you’ve seen our friends in the woods.”

Sang Mi wanted to leave the car and join them, but the thought of the shadowy figures kept her inside. 

“They must be trouble if they’ve got you on a plane from England.” He paused for a moment, scratching his head. “I have got the year right, haven’t I? You are working for SIGNET?”

“Yes, yes,” the kindly old man replied. “Thought let’s try and stay light on the spoilers, if you don’t mind.”

“Sorry,” said Chris. “I forgot that you don’t like time travellers.”

“It’s not that I don’t like time travellers,” Charles explained. “It’s that I don’t like having things spoiled. Loose lips can reveal all sorts of things, and I prefer ignorance. How can life be fun if you know what’s coming?” He caught sight of Sang Mi watching from the passenger seat. “Who is your friend? She doesn’t look like Yanna or Roslyn.”

“Sang Mi,” said Chris. “Come on out,” he called to her. “Charles won’t bite.”

“What about those creatures?” she called back, heart pounding. “They don’t seem to be as nice.”

“It’s alright,” said Charles. “You’re safe enough with us.”

Something about the old man made Sang Mi instantly believe him. She unbuckled her seat belt, opened the door, and raced over to them as fast as her legs could carry her. Instinctively casting a look behind her, she started as three figures stood in the middle of the road behind the car. Motionless. Watching. 

“It’s okay,” said Charles, pulling her close. “They’re here for the same reason as me.”

“What are they?” asked Chris. “I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“They’re known as shadow people,” Charles answered. “Beyond that, I know as little as you. They show up at the scene of mysterious events. Or don’t. There’s never any pattern to their behaviour.” 

“And what brings them to the woods in the middle of Indiana is…?”

“I’m not yet sure,” admitted Charles. “But we’ll get no answers standing around here. Come on.”

He set off in the direction of the woods. 

“Hold on,” said Chris, “Let me get my rifle.”

“You won’t need that,” Charles chided. “You never do!”

“And a torch,” said Chris, paying no heed. 

Chris headed to the car and returned a moment later with his hefty space-age laser rifle and a bog standard 21st century LED torch. “Sorry,” he said to Sang Mi. “I only have one.”

“I can help you there, young lady,” said Charles, delving into the inside pockets of his coat. “I always carry a spare after watching those horror films: why do they only ever have one torch - It’s obvious the batteries are going to run out!” He handed a small, pencil shaped torch to her.

Sang Mi pressed the button on the base of the torch and a surprisingly strong beam of light came forth, lighting up the silhouette of another shadow figure in the treeline. Sang Mi’s heart skipped a beat, and to her relief, the shadow figure skulked out of sight soon after. 

* * *

The walk through the woods was arduous. Every step of the way, Sang Mi’s heart banged like a drum. Although Charles and Chris by now were happy to ignore the shadow figures as they traversed the network of brambles and thickets, Sang Mi felt the same pang of fear each time one of them came into view.

“Have they been known to hurt people before?” 

The question had been burning on Sang Mi’s mind for some time, and until now had been too scared to ask through fear of what the answer may be. 

“Not by any testimony I’ve heard,” answered Charles. “Though they are able to interact with our world with some manner of physicality.”

Sang Mi sighed. That wasn’t the answer she had wanted to hear. 

As Charles carved the path forwards, Chris dropped back to stay with Sang Mi. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

“I’m a girl from Gongen being led through a thick woodland in the dead of night by a man I don’t know with featureless shadow creatures watching me at every turn.” She looked Chris in the eyes. “I’ve been better.”

Chris threw her a look that said, “I know this isn’t ideal, but let’s just stick with it and see what happens.”

It didn’t placate her, so Sang Mi asked: “Who is Charles anyway? How do you know him?”

“Charles runs an investigative group called SIGNET, who look into weird goings on in the hopes of saving people. We left the projector with their receptionist, before, well, the whole World’s Fair thing. They’re a bit like us, I suppose, but a little more domestic. I’ve met Charles a few times over the years, battling cosmic threats, and a particularly nasty Korrovax in Manchester. His mother was a nice lady too: unapologetically kind. Losing her really affected him.”

“So he’s here investigating the shadow people?” 

“Investigating what’s brought them here!” Charles called back, from quite a distance ahead. 

Chris and Sang Mi shared a look. He must have heard everything they were saying!

“And what is that, Charles?” asked Chris. “We’re clearly heading somewhere!”

Ahead, Charles stopped in his tracks, and shone his torch in the distance. Through a jagged sea of branches, Sang Mi could make out the outlines of buildings. Chris quickened his pace, and Sang Mi followed. 

“They look like farm buildings,” said Chris as they neared the structures. 

Already Sang Mi could see shadow people gathered in groups of threes and fours around bails of hay and stacks of farm equipment. One shadow person in particular had three long, slender fingers that reached down to where Sang Mi assumed were its knees. The sight freaked her out more. 

“If they’re here for a reason, then why are they just standing around?” asked Sang Mi.

“I wish I had an answer for you,” said Charles. “Whenever shadow people have been said to interact with the physical world, it always seems to happen when they aren’t being observed.”

“Where do we go now?” asked Chris, shuffling uncomfortably. “These things are really starting to make me feel-”

“Like something bad is going to happen?” finished Charles. 

“Yeah,” said Chris. “I’ve felt it ever since we entered these woods.”

“They have a habit of making people feel like that,” said Charles, stroking his beard.
“I’ve felt it ever since I got off the plane in Indianapolis.”

“I haven’t felt like that at all,” said Sang Mi. “Just absolutely freaking terrified.”

Chris shrugged. “Must be universal differences,” he said. “I get the sense that these things, whatever they are, are very primal to our universe. It’s very likely that yours doesn’t have them at all.”

“I should hope not!” said Sang Mi. And for the first time in a while, she longed to be back in her own bed in Gongen.

Charles led them into the centre of the farmyard. Three buildings surrounded them: a shed for livestock, a barn, and a farmhouse. 

“Where first?” asked Sang Mi. 

Chris began striding towards the farmhouse. “In there,” he said. “Look!”

At first glance, Sang Mi thought she saw a shadow figure, slumped against a window. However, as Chris shone his torch over it, she instead saw a decaying face of rotting flesh staring back at her, jaw open in abject terror. She froze, and immediately turned away, stumbling. Closing her eyes, she tried to push the image out of her head, and the numbing feeling flowing through her like she wasn’t quite in her own body. She ran her hands over each other, trying to focus on the feeling and blot the corpse behind her out of her mind.

She jumped a little when she felt Chris hand on her shoulder. “Will you be okay?”

Nodding, she tried to give him a reassuring smile. “Y-yeah. I’ve got this one under control.”

“You sure?”

She nodded, and he squeezed her shoulder and walked past her to inspect the remains.
Charles was looking at her, his eyes filled with a pained wisdom that showed he knew exactly what she was dealing with in that moment. That he’d seen it countless times before. 

“Chin up, we won’t leave you behind.”

She gave him a reassuring smile too, but it had become a little more honest. “Thanks, you should go help Chris.”

In a moment, Charles was at Chris’s side, keeping pace despite his advanced age. Sang Mi steadied herself, and by the time she caught up, the two men were standing over the body, making assessments over what had happened. She kept her distance, but despite her stomach rolling over in her chest and a bit of lightheadedness, was holding it together better than she expected with the presence of Charles and Chris.

“No immediate cause of death,” Chris noted, examining the way the corpse was leaning against the window, as though trying to open the door. 

“Her clothes seem intact,” agreed Charles, shining his torch over what Sang Mi assumed, beneath the maggots and grime, was a dress.

Sang Mi cast her torch across the room, looking for anything that could have caused the unfortunate lady’s death, and eager for an excuse to look away from the body. Aside from a thin layer of dust, the room appeared to be an otherwise normal kitchen: empty worktops, a cooker, and fridge unit against the back wall. It was only when she shone her torch into the adjoining room, that Sang Mi found something else amiss. 

“Guys, in here…” 

Sang Mi’s torch focused on another body, lying face down on the carpet. He was male, so far as could be seen from his broad build. Charles was the first to reach the body, and gently rolled him over with his foot. The decaying face staring back at them was young, barely any older than Sang Mi herself. 

She looked at Chris, and saw his jaw set with rage. 

“Chris?” she asked with concern.

He didn’t reply. Instead he raised his rifle, returned to the kitchen and aimed it at the three shadow figures visible through the window. Without warning, he fired. The sound of shattering glass was almost cacophonous after the silence that preceded it. 
 
“What are you doing!” Charles bellowed, running into the kitchen.

“They’ve killed these people,” said Chris, tears of anger streaming down his face. “He was just a boy!”

Sang Mi looked through the window. The shadow people hadn’t moved, and seemed completely unphased by the laser bolt that had passed through them.

“They haven’t killed anyone,” said Charles. His tone was as soft as velvet. Sang Mi wasn’t aware of how anxious she was feeling until it soothed her restless nerves. Charles placed a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “I know it’s made you angry, Chris. The thought that he could be Sang Mi must have been overwhelming to think about. But it isn’t the shadow people who have done this. Something else is at fault here, and violence won’t be the way we’ll put things right.”

Sang Mi was taken aback by Charles’ words, his ability to think clearly despite discovering the loss of a young life. While Chris’s way of doing things was looking danger in the eye, rifle in hand, she saw that Charles’ was compassion, patience, and the conviction to resolve a situation without violence. She began to realise that much could be learned from the old man, by both herself and Chris. 

“So what do we do?” asked Chris, brought firmly back down to calm.

“What we always do,” said Charles with a wink. “Put wrongs to right.”

Leaving the house behind, Charles walked out into the middle of the farmstead, and closed his eyes. Chris and Sang Mi followed, watching as Charles slowed to a stop, closed his eyes, and faced each building in turn. As they watched, Sang Mi noticed Charles fiddling with something in his pocket. Sang Mi placed herself behind the old man in an attempt to view the contents. All she could see behind his fumbling hands was a warm glow of blue light. The sight of it soothed Sang Mi’s fears, even from the brief glimpses she caught. 

“It’s in there,” Charles announced, and strode off in the direction of the barn.

“What is?” Sang Mi whispered to Chris. “And what on earth is in his pocket?”

“It’s a pendant that once belonged to his mother,” Chris replied. “I’m not sure where it comes from, but it has remarkable divining abilities. I’d imagine it’s how Charles knew to come here all the way from England.”

Charles, Chris and Sang Mi entered the barn by way of a large arched door that had been left ajar. From the moment they entered, the stench of death was overpowering. 
The barn contained several bales of hay that dominated one end of the room. In the centre was a tractor, fitted with a large scoop. Beside the tractor was a sizable ditch, and a mound of loose soil. 

As the trio approached the ditch, they all seemed to know what they would find. Sure enough, at the centre of the ditch, was the body of a man staring up at them with a pained expression. He wore a checkered shirt, utility trousers, and thick brown boots. 
Charles held up his pendant in an outstretched hand. “Whatever caused this is here, with him.”

Wasting no time, Chris jumped into the ditch and began to examine the body. “I can’t see anything obvious,” said Chris. “Aside from the dirt on his clothes there isn’t a mark on him.” He thought for a moment. “Do you think the people inside the house were his family?”

“It would reckon so,” said Charles, shining his torch upon the body. His eyes narrowed as something caught his eye. “Something looks off about his neck,” he said. “Check his mouth.”

Crouching down, Chris pushed a finger between the man’s lips. Even this slightest of disturbances caused his jaw to snap. He leaned in for a closer look. “There’s something in here,” he said, pushing his hand in further. 

Chris turned back to his friends holding a smooth-faced stone, almost rectangular in shape. “There’s writing on it,” he added. “Not in any language I can read though, and I’m told I can read pretty much anything.”

“Give it here,” said Charles, and Chris threw the stone up to him. 

Sang Mi watched him examine the marble-like object. The colour of the stone was jet black, not too dissimilar from the shadow people, she noted. Etched upon it were a series of runes that appeared to defy observance. Each time Sang Mi tried to focus on a singular letter, its shape seemed to twist and morph before her eyes, and something in her mind willed her to look away. Charles seemed to be having the same problem, frowning and blinking as he attempted to will the words to reveal themselves. 

“It’s quite something,” Charles announced, giving up. “I can feel it tugging at my perceptions, trying to enter my mind. “I would say it’s Yssgarothic, but the runes on the tablet shard we have back at HQ are legible. Nothing like this.”

Sang Mi noticed that the pendant in his hand seemed to glow brighter as he held the stone. She looked down to Chris in the ditch, noticing how quiet he had been. The former Adjudicator stood motionless, head bowed, as if someone had flipped a switch and turned him off. 

“Chris, are you okay?”

Chris’s neck snapped around like a whip. Sang Mi gasped. 

His eyes looked to have sunk into his sockets, his skin pale and lifeless, veins visible beneath. He tried to speak, but only guttural, groaning noises were voiced. When Sang Mi looked into his eyes, he seemed to be begging her to help him. 

“What’s happened to him?” Sang Mi yelped. 

“The same thing that happened to those who lived here,” concluded Charles. “We have to do something before Chris joins them!”

Sang Mi looked around in panic. In the doorway, outside the windows, at the edges of the room by the hay bales, stood shadow people. 

“We’re trapped!” Sang Mi cried in panic. Whatever courage Charles’ stone had given her had long since melted away. Chris was going to die here, and she would be left alone here, with those things. 

“We’re not trapped,” insisted Charles. “They’re here because of the stone, just like we are.”

“Then why aren’t they doing anything?” said Sang Mi, tears of frustration forming in her eyes.

“Who says they aren’t?” Charles replied. “We know virtually nothing about them.” 

He held the stone out in front of him and tossed it up and down in his hand, thinking frantically of what to do. All the while, Chris grew more emaciated by the second. 

“The others died in the house,” Charles said suddenly. “So why is he here…”

Sang Mi’s mind raced faster than a gazelle on a dinner menu. “Because he was the last to die!” she realised. She surveyed her surroundings - ignoring the flocks of shadow people - noticing the tractor, its scoop, and the ditch. “He was trying to bury it!”

“And when he realised his time was short, tried to swallow it and threw himself in the ditch…” Charles finished. 

“So what do we do - try to finish the job he started?”

“It must have been how it was found,” Charles realised. “Somewhere here on the farm.”

He looked up to the driving seat of the tractor. “It’s been a while since I’ve used one of these, but needs must!” 

With the sprightliness of an acrobat, Charles mounted the tractor and climbed into the operator’s station. With the turn of a key the engines fired, spewing acrid fumes into the air. Sang Mi gagged - it was worse for the environment than the Honda!

A nearby thump gave Sang Mi cause for alarm. Chris had fallen to his knees, no longer able to stand. Without thinking, she jumped into the ditch after him, and began to pull him out of the way.

“What are you doing?” Charles shouted over the roar of the engine. “I was going to dig a new ditch.”

“No time,” Sang Mi replied. “The deeper it goes, the better. Hurry!”

Chris’s skin had become taught and leathery. Still, he held on, staring up at Sang Mi with apologetic eyes. 

“Don’t you get all soppy on me,” she cried. “We’ve got our road trip to finish.”

She held onto his hand, trying to ignore how much they felt like bone. 

The scoop of the tractor lowered, with impressive precision, as Charles sat at the controls, sweat beading on his brow. He cleaved several depressions into the dirt, delving deeper and deeper into the earth. Once satisfied, he cast the stone into the chasm he’d created and set to work filling it back in. Heap upon heap of earth was added on top of where the stone was buried. When the work was done, Charles raced over to Sang Mi and Chris. 

Sang Mi sobbed, holding onto Chris’s clammy hand. His face was gaunt, almost corpse-like. He tried to speak, but nothing more than a moan passed his leathery lips. 

“Why isn’t it working?” Sang Mi barked at Charles. 

The old man looked perplexed. 

“The stone is buried,” he muttered. “It should be finished, done!” He started to panic, fumbling in his pockets. His eyes widened. “The pendant!” He thrust the blue stone on its string into Chris’s open palm and closed it tight. “Come on. Don’t fail me now…”

The stone shone brighter than it had all night. Sang Mi had to avert her eyes, unable to look at it directly. Still Chris remained in his husk-like state. 

Sang Mi felt the hope drain from her soul. This was it, wasn’t it? Chris was going to die here, and she’d never be able to return home to Gongen.

In the corner of her vision, the shadow people moved back and forth. “Stay away from him,” Sang Mi cried. “Leave him alone!”

As she watched, the shadow people seemed to shuffle anxiously, like a toilet queue at a busy concert. They were closer than ever now, but didn’t seem to want to come any closer. 

“No, no,” said Charles. “We’re missing something. The stone has gone, yes, but they haven’t.” 

Sang Mi looked to the mound of dirt where the stone had been buried. Shadow people gathered around it like it was an epitaph. “They never stood near the stone before it was buried,” she said. “Now they’re all over it.” She looked behind her, spotting more shadow people there also. 

“Of course!” exclaimed Charles. “That’s why they didn’t leave when the stone was buried.” He grabbed Sang Mi by the wrist and pulled her behind him. Chris slid from her grip and hit the floor like a paperweight. 

“No!” Sang Mi bellowed. “We can’t leave him!”

“I’m sorry, Sang Mi,” said Charles. “But that’s exactly what we have to do.”

Charles dragged Sang Mi along behind him like a stropping child. Every step of the way she fought, kicked and screamed at him to release her, to return her to Chris. With each step she fought, Charles held firm, refusing to look back, not even for a second. 

Once they were outside of the barn, Charles closed the door, and released Sang Mi from his grasp. Sang Mi didn’t hesitate to try and return to the barn, but Charles stood by the door, as strong and passive as a bouncer at a nightclub. 

“Let me in!” she screamed.

“Not yet,” he pleaded. “Please.”

“He’ll die in there,” she begged, tears streaming. “I won’t let him die alone.”

“No one ever said it would come to that.”

Charles embraced Sang Mi in a bear hug. She crumbled, sinking to her knees in despair. The old man held on tight and, whilst she sobbed in his arms, he sang an old tune, of sailors lost and lovers found. Sang Mi found it oddly soothing, yet the tears continued to flood. 

Sang Mi cried for an age. She only stopped upon hearing the creak of wood. When she looked up she saw Chris staring down at her, a confused look etched across his brow.

“What on earth are you crying for?”

Sang Mi blinked, stared, and blinked again. She rubbed her eyes and looked once more. Chris was standing there, as fresh as he had looked that morning.

“Am I dead?” she asked. 

“Nope,” said Chris. “Am I?”

“She thought you were,” said Charles, releasing her from his embrace. “She just needed to have a little faith.”

Sang Mi wiped the tears from her face. “But how?”

“I’ve got no idea,” admitted Chris. “Last thing I remember is picking up that stone. Ask him,” he said, pointing to Charles. 

“Thank the shadow people. They seemed pretty eager to help once the stone had been buried. But they never do anything whilst others are watching,” Charles said with a wink.

Sang Mi couldn’t believe her eyes or ears. “I thought the shadow people were evil.”

“Perhaps they are,” said Charles. “But even the evil have a capacity to be good. We live in a universe of colour, not black and white.”

Chris chuckled. “Always the philosopher, Charles.” 

“I’ll add it to my many titles,” Charles laughed in reply. 

Sang Mi looked around. The sun was starting to rise, and to her relief, there wasn’t a shadow person to be seen. “Which way is the car?” she asked.

Chris and Charles scratched their heads in unison. “That might take some working out,” said Chris.

“When we do find your car,” said Charles. “Could I trouble you both for a ride?”

“Of course,” Chris beamed. “Where to?”

“Oh, nowhere far,” Charles replied. “The nearest phone will do. I’m not wholly happy leaving the stone here to be dug up by any old randomer. I’ll call my friends at the JDS and make sure they seal this place up as a quarantine zone.”

“That sounds like a deal.”
​
As the sun began to rise in the sky, the trio headed towards it, delighted to leave the shadow behind.

---

Next Stop:
The Search for Francis Bilge
by Theta Mandel

---

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Academy 27 © Arcbeatle Press
WARSONG, WARS TCG, Gongen, Takumi, and associated concepts © Decipher, Inc.
SIGNET and Charles Zoltan © James Hornby
Chris Cwej and associated concepts © Andy Lane
Yssgaroth © Neil Penswick
C.R.U.X., © Aristide Twain
Blue Candle Coffee Company, E.D.E.M, Jhe Sang Mi © James Wylder