my face, annoyed that I'd already forgotten things Al had told me. "I forgot about the Guardian. Al said it would be the worst thing I could imagine." I paused wondering what that would be. The worst thing I could imagine wasn't possible. It already happened. Apryl already died. Collin was already in Hell. "I don't know what the Guardian will be." Uncertainty plagued my stomach, but I had no choice but to go forward. I had to take this path. There was no going backwards. "I know how to trick them into thinking we're Valefar - both of us."
I concentrated, and pressed my finger against the ruby in my ring. Shadows slinked from their hiding places in the cracks and crevices of the tomb. The cold fingers of shadows stroked my skin making me shiver. They were impossibly cold. I pulled as many shadows as I could tolerate. They coated my skin as they traveled down my throat and pooled in my stomach. The shadows would shroud me, locking in my scent, as long as I held them in place. They reeked of death and decay. That fragrance would mask my scent well enough. I'd have to get used to the discomfort of their corpse-like coldness inside of me. As for Eric, he was a pure Martis. His blood smelled like a Christmas buffet. I had to mask it with something stronger. Shadows alone wouldn't work.
Looking around the ancient tomb, I what I needed and decided to do it. There were no other options. Surely the deceased wouldn't mind. I walked to a pile of bones stacked neatly to the ceiling, and squatted down. I pressed my fingers into the dirt looking for something that would work - something that would be small enough.
I needed a shard, a single small piece of human bone. The bones of the dead would amplify the shadow's ability to conceal Eric's scent. It would smell of someone long deceased. I honestly didn't know what I was doing, or if it would even work. But, it had to work. Something inside me told me that it would. But, I needed something to bind the shadow to the bone, too. What was powerful enough to do that? And it had to be something within my reach. Just find the bone, Ivy. I thought to myself. Figure out the rest later. My fingers pressed against something smooth and hard. I dug it out of the earth. Eric asked what I was doing. I ignored him, and continued to dig it out. The bone shard was the size of my pinkie, and perfectly smooth. I cracked it in half and threw the other piece on the ground.
Turning to Eric I held up the bone and said, "You'll have to wear this around your neck." He looked at me oddly for a moment, and then nodded.
Now the hard part. I had to infuse the bone with shadow and keep it there. I focused and called the shadows to me, and when they responded I redirected them into the bone. I felt the shard turn icy cold in my hand. It worked! But, when I stopped focusing and trying to control them, the shadows spilled out. A bone wasn't a shadow container. It wasn't enough. There was nothing to hold them in place. What kept the shadows inside of me from spilling out?
Nothing.
They just stayed because I told them to. I looked at the bone. Talking to it wasn't going to do anything. No, that had to be only part of it. The shadows came because I called them. But why did they stay? What held them inside of me? I rubbed my finger along the sharp edge of the bone. It was a nervous habit. I fidgeted when I was tense. And it was a good thing too. By accident, a spike on the shard snagged my pinky and opened up a bright red wound. Blood seeped out and the bone soaked it up like a sponge. I looked at the bone, still white, but the tiny drop of blood was gone.
Acting on instinct, I pressed my finger hard across the jagged edge of bone. The flesh tore open and a scarlet drop of blood appeared on my fingertip. The bone was old and porous. Its tiny holes absorbed the blood flowing from my finger like a dry quill soaking up ink. Eric and I both knew that the substance that flowed through my veins was nearly entirely