Free Shadow Reaper (Shadowlands Series) by Amos Cassidy Page B

probably the warmest place in Shelter, matching everything about her. It was all soft minks and pale browns and the lighting inside was never harsh. Clay found the ambience charming.
    “Here you go.” Sarah handed him a small flask. “It’s cold, I’m afraid, but it will do the trick regardless. Don’t take it until you’re about to get into bed. It takes barely a minute to kick in.”
    “Cool, thanks for the warning.”
    Sarah chuckled. “Don’t want to find you sprawled out in the streets, do we?”
    “Definitely not.”
    “Well, goodnight. Go and sleep. Tomorrow is another day. We both need to stop worrying. That light will be fixed. It’s just being naughty.”
    Clay chuckled. “Goodnight, Sarah. Thanks again.”
    “See you tomorrow.”
    “Yep, see you then.”
    Clay paused on his way back to his room.
    Something isn’t right.
    He looked down at the flask. It would be his saviour. What he really needed was to sleep. Tomorrow was another day, a fresh start. He’d feel better; he was sure of it. A clear head always helped. He’d fix that damn light and help his sister. Everything would be all right.

ASH
    We were almost at the Beyond and so far no critters, no problems. But even if we did come across a critter or two, I was certain we could handle it. Until a couple of years ago, we’d faced a bigger threat: Knightmares. Creatures made of black smoke and silver bone. They looked like horses, but were something else entirely, and they were hungry for human flesh. I’m not sure how many human Reapers had been killed or maimed by these creatures. But then one day they had simply vanished.
    Tonight, it was as if the Shadowland was holding its breath, waiting for something. The transition between the Cusp and the Beyond was quite obvious. Where there was some anaemic grey light in the Cusp, the Beyond was a veil of inky blackness, ominous and viscous and pretty scary. Bernadette was no longer holding my hand, and I kind of wished she’d take it again, but she’d moved off slightly, searching for a tether for our harnesses. I unclipped mine and moved to help her. We found a bent lamppost. Its light was smashed and its head almost touched the ground.
    “This’ll do,” Bernadette said. Her voice sounded shockingly loud in the silence, and I jumped a little before exhaling and wrapping the line closest to the flesh of my harness around the body of the lamppost. I made sure it was tight and then stepped back.
    “You ready?” Bernadette asked.
    My stomach quivered. “Yeah, let’s do it.”
    Bernadette took my hand and I was grateful for the contact. We stared up at the inky blackness, which seemed to shift and reach out to us. The anaemic light withdrew, moving behind us, leaving nothing but shadow, and then we stepped into the Beyond.
    For a moment, the darkness was absolute, a physical entity that pressed itself against me, suffocating me. I gasped for breath. If Bernadette hadn’t been holding my hand, I would probably have buckled. I felt light headed and strange, but the steady pressure of her fingers lent me the focus to breathe, steady and even. Two more steps, three more steps, and my eyes began to adjust to the darkness, and then I looked up and knew why.
    It hung in the sky, a milky glowing orb so beautiful it stole my breath and made my heart ache.
    Bernadette’s soft exhalation told me that she’d spotted it too.
    “Is that it? Is that the sun?” I asked.
    “No. That’s the moon.”
    I didn’t ask how she knew. She was a few years older than me and so she’d had the privilege and the misfortune to know what we were missing.
    “It’s so . . . bright.” I couldn’t stop staring at it.
    “Ash, this doesn’t look right.” Bernadette’s words pulled my attention back to the dark landscape. Houses stood unlit and silent on a street with tall, sturdy lampposts and even, un-cracked paving. It looked normal, as if the street were merely sleeping, but the more I stared at it, the more