The Light Within (Shadow and Light Duology #2)

25. Julien

twenty-five

Julien

I t took three hours of brisk walking from the crash site to reach some semblance of civilisation. It took a further two hours to locate a rental car office.

The woman behind the counter gave them a horrified gasp when they staggered through the door. It might have had something to do with their bloodied clothes, or the thick layer of ash that still smothered their faces.

When Julien politely asked if she had any painkillers, she passed them wordlessly over the counter.

Though, shortly later, she was extremely reluctant to hand over the keys for the car Julien selected. Julien himself was reluctant to take the keys from her, because since when did he drive a Renault Clio? Sacrilège .

An attendant brought the car around for them. It was a good thing they didn’t still have possession of their two dead bodies, because the tiny boot wasn’t up to the job of housing even half of one.

Julien slid into the driver’s seat. He was already cramped as hell. The tacky plastic interior only added to the insult, and the faint odour of cheap air freshener almost made him gag. He opened his mouth—

“Don’t,” Cinn warned. “Just drive.”

Julien pulled out onto the road with a rough jerk, gritting his teeth at the Clio’s attempt at acceleration. “I could pedal faster than this,” he muttered.

And so began their very slow journey back to Talwacht. Although he originally intended to drive flat out, no stops, Julien’s eyes kept betraying him by fluttering shut. To avoid car crash part two, he pulled over to sleep, although the experience of trying to nap in the hire car was anything but refreshing.

It was mid-morning by the time they reached Darcy’s cottage, avoiding Cinn’s house, lest any more badly trained assassins pop up. They’d rung Darcy to forewarn her from a payphone before collecting the car. She’d been surprisingly sympathetic about Maz. But then, the car was her daily ride to Auri.

Elliot’s motorcycle claimed its usual spot outside Darcy’s, frost spreading like cracks across its mirrors. When they reached the living room, it was as if they’d never left—Darcy was sprawled out on the worn armchair near the fireplace, one leg draped over the side, a book in hand. Elliot perched on the edge of the sofa, his hands extended towards the flames.

Darcy looked up from her book. “You two look like shit.”

“Thanks, Darce.”

She turned a page. “Let Cinn have the first shower, else you’ll steal all the hot water and his will be cold.”

“You know, I’m beginning to wonder why we came here.”

“Because you have literally nowhere else to go?”

Darcy grinned at Julien.

He crossed the room to kiss both her cheeks.

Ten minutes later, Cinn returned, looking slightly cleaner, although the gash on his forehead looked more prominent now that his skin was grime free. He scowled when he caught Julien staring at it, tugging his beanie down to hide it. “No, it doesn’t need looking at. Neither does my arm.”

“So, you guys really took out two people?” Elliot said, then whistled.

That particular delight already felt like a lifetime ago. Julien leaned his head against a bookshelf, his eyes slowly closing .

“He did,” Cinn confirmed. The pride in his voice made Julien feel nauseous, the image of the bullets unexpectedly exploding ricocheting around his mind. Cinn could protest that the fragment that hit his arm caused ‘just a scratch’ all he liked. Julien wouldn’t forget it in a hurry.

“So, it wasn’t only you two off having all the fun.” Darcy closed her book shut with a snap, then leaned forward. “Tell them, Elliot.”

“Yeah…” Elliot began. “So I tracked down that dude who was stalking us. The one Cinn overheard Eleanor tearing into. He’s been tailing us for months. It was a really weird exchange. He claimed he wanted to be caught. Introduced himself as well. Admitted everything.”

“That’s weird as fuck. Does he not want to work for Eleanor any more? She sounded proper pissed at him,” said Cinn.

“Well, I asked that, but he said some random rubbish I didn’t understand. Then he left it by telling me to wait for a message.”

Darcy laughed. “But the best bit is—”

A loud cough from Elliot cut her off.

“What?” asked Julien.

The other two side-eyed each other, then kept mute. Without warning, Darcy’s fire crackled intensely, sending sparks dancing across the cottage floor. One landed on Julien’s trouser leg, singeing it slightly—as if his poor clothes hadn’t been through enough.

The flames flickered and danced. A small piece of parchment slowly materialised within the glowing embers, rising from the hearth, pulled from the depths of the fire itself. It drifted gently onto the stone.

Elliot dove from the sofa to snatch it up, knocking Julien rather rudely out of the way.

“Hey!”

Ignoring Julien, Elliot poured over the note, his face falling slightly. “It’s not that interesting. Just a location and time.”

“How is that not interesting?” Julien seized the paper. The note read: Midnight. Where the shadows guard the ancient whispers .

“Oh, come on.” Cinn read the note over Julien’s shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean? Is he having a laugh?”

“What? It’s pretty obvious,” said Darcy, in that infuriating know-it-all voice she knew they hated.

Julien refused to ask her, so instead said, “Should we go, though?”

Elliot’s head whipped towards him. “What? Why not?”

“Well, Cinn and I have almost died twice in the last two days. This might be a third time unlucky sort of thing.”

Cinn frowned. “Elliot said this guy is on our side.”

“What? What side ?” Julien retorted. “Our ‘side’ is just us wanting to live.”

“I agree with Cinn.” Elliot claimed the parchment back, to flap it in the air. “We have to see what this is all about.”

“Alternatively, let’s all pack our bags and do a beach holiday in the Bahamas. I hear it’s nice this time of year.”

Darcy bopped Julien on the head with her book. “Stop. We’re going and that’s that. You’ve got twelve hours to get over it, or you can stay here and sulk.”

Julien pouted at Darcy, who sounded confused about how things worked around here. “I thought I was the leader of this ragtag group of merry men.”

Darcy let out a laugh so exaggerated and theatrical, it echoed through the room like a villain in a pantomime. “Oh, you do make me laugh!”

“There he is.” Elliot jerked his head towards a dark figure leaning against the library’s portico. “There’s Malik.”

Oui , there he was, the mysterious American man who’d apparently had the edge on them for months .

Malik peeled himself away from the column, walking a few paces to greet them. It was a moonless midnight, the street lit only by a pair of lumenmote columns either side of the building. Julien studied the man in the dim light. He hated to admit it, but the guy didn’t look the slightest bit familiar.

The four of them stood opposite Malik, a silent impasse.

“Hold on.” Cinn screwed up his face, looking between Malik and Elliot, who was hanging back in an odd, hesitant manner. “Aren’t you the one from New Year’s? The one Elliot chucked up all over?”

Elliot groaned, and Malik grinned at him, a sudden flash of white teeth. “He owes me new shoes.”

Julien stared at him again. Non , his face definitely didn’t ring any bells from that night. But then, by the time Elliot had reached peak drunkenness, Julien was solely focussed on physically restraining Cinn, who kept trying to request songs from the DJ that nobody wanted to hear. Genuinely, nobody.

“What have you been playing at, mate, messing with us like this?” Cinn demanded. “Was that you in Paris yesterday?”

Malik tilted his head to one side. “Yesterday? No, I can’t say that it was. I was too busy with Elliot here. Look, if you just follow me, all will become clear.”

“Follow you where, into the library?” Julien eyed the dark building dubiously. Maybe he was still bitter that Darcy had deciphered the ridiculous clue.

“No.” Malik barked a laugh. “Auri’s library would be way too obvious. This was just the meeting spot to see if you’d actually show up.”

Malik seemed less of a dangerous assassin about to knife them, and more of an annoying prick, so Julien humoured him.

“Where are we going, then? We don’t have all night, and you’ve already wasted our time dragging us out here,” Julien said coolly .

“It’s a bit of a drive, I’m afraid,” Malik said, then strolled on past them without looking back.

Julien already wanted to punch this guy. He met Elliot’s gaze, silently asking him, ‘ Who is this clown?’ but Elliot only shrugged, not giving Julien a second glance before jogging to catch up with Malik.

Dropping his voice low, Julien fell into step with Darcy. “I don’t trust Elliot’s judgement on this. This guy has got him bewitched somehow. He barely knows him.”

All he received in reply was Darcy’s indecipherable look, so Julien shut up and dutifully followed Malik down the path, heading back towards the car park.

When Julien unlocked the rental car, Malik stopped short. “What happened to your nice car? I thought we were riding in that.”

Malik sounded so genuinely disappointed, Julien had to laugh.

“You definitely picked the wrong time to stop stalking us. If we’d had some backup yesterday, maybe Maz would have survived.”

Malik directed them out of Auri, through the countryside and the town centre, constantly looking behind them to see if they were being followed. Then, they took a convoluted route around the northern residential area.

Cinn tapped on the window. “We’re almost back at my house!”

“Yeah. That’s not a coincidence.”

Quiet for a moment, Cinn then asked, “Have you watched me through my window?” to which Malik violently shook his head in a very unconvincing way.

They drove on. Just when Julien thought they were genuinely heading to Cinn’s house of all places, Malik instructed Julien to pull the Clio up to the kerb outside a small grocery shop, complete with grimy windows, faded posters and peeling paint.

“This is us. ”

Julien turned off the engine, then stared at Malik. What on earth was going on here? He half expected some sort of camera crew to jump out and announce they were all on a prank show.

“This corner shop ?” Cinn gave a disbelieving huff. “I come here every other day for cigarettes!”

“And that awful store-brand lemon shower gel you love so much,” Malik said, wrinkling his nose. “Can’t forget that.”

“It’s shut,” Julien informed him.

“Of course it’s shut. It’s past midnight!” Malik jumped out, slamming his door.

Julien twisted in the driver’s seat. “Do we take our leave and run now? I’m sorry, Elliot, I know you two have your little thing going on, but I make a habit of not trusting Americans. I don’t fancy murdering him if he’s led us to some sort of underground torture dungeon.”

“Yes, I’m sure there are whips and chains waiting for us in between the packets of crisps,” Darcy deadpanned, before opening her door. “Come on.”

Leading the way, Malik took them around the back of the shop, revealing a narrow alleyway cluttered with discarded crates. Stale dampness clung to the air. The shadows tucked a heavy metal door into the brickwork, nearly rendering it invisible. The door had no discernible handle.

Malik paused briefly, glancing back at them with a look that offered no reassurance, before pulling out a small, sleek device from his pocket. Its subtle blue glow alluded to motetech in play. He waved it in front of the door, and with a soft, mechanical click, it swung open.

“Follow me,” Malik said, slipping into the darkness.

Julien hesitated, his gaze shifting to Elliot, who nodded firmly before stepping through the doorway. The others followed, with Julien bringing up the rear, feeling the weight of each step as they descended a narrow flight of stairs. The further they went, the darker and cooler it became, the faint hum of hidden mechanisms filling the silence .

Malik moved confidently, leading them down a series of turns that seemed more labyrinthine with each corner.

Each step frayed Julien’s wrought nerves. This frustrated him. There was no logical reason to be growing more and more tense. This nut job was probably just going to lead them to a dead end, then laugh at them. The on-the-edge feeling was very likely a continued response to their Paris trauma. Yet knowing that didn’t uncoil the tension in his gut or silence the alarm bells ringing in his ears.

“Come on,” Cinn hissed, reaching back to grab Julien’s arm, as he’d started to lag behind the group.

But he could see another door, this one far more imposing, with a panel beside it.

He knew there was something behind it.

Julien had no energy for any more somethings .

None, nada .

He allowed Cinn to drag him along as Malik placed his palm on the panel. After a brief pause, the door slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing a dimly lit corridor beyond. The atmosphere inside was charged, the air buzzing.

Julien’s heart pounded in his chest. He was too tired for this next goose chase. He should have waited in the car.

“We’re almost there,” Malik tossed over his shoulder, his voice low. “This is the last door.”

Malik must’ve led them about three floors underground, all in all. Your average grocery shop basement, this was not.

“Are you okay?” Cinn murmured into Julien’s ear, having possibly realised that no, Julien was, in fact, not okay. He hadn’t been okay in a long time. A very long time.

Unable to muster the energy to reply, Julien watched as Malik knelt down to open a wooden trapdoor, of all things. What now? Were they descending into the nine circles of Hell ?

Malik sank down into the darkness first, followed by Elliot. Darcy finally had the good sense to look afraid—glancing nervously down at the ladder—so Julien pushed his way past her to go next.

As he climbed down the cold metal rungs of the ladder, the sound of machines whirring softly reached his ears, growing louder the further he descended. A faint blue light pulsed rhythmically from below, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

Julien jumped the last two rungs to land on a concrete floor. The room was empty, except for a lone figure seated in the centre.

The chair slowly swivelled around.

He locked eyes with its occupant.

Now he was looking at her, Julien wasn’t sure who else he would possibly have expected Malik to lead them to.

But what he wasn’t expecting were the words that tumbled effortlessly out of Eleanor’s lips.

“Welcome to the Arcane Purifier’s headquarters.”