Excerpt: Shadow's Fall: Light and Shadow

He could even see the way out of his situation, only ten feet away. For once, the path to it was even clear. No enemies, no antagonists blocking the way out. But it wasn't a way out he was looking for. He ducked behind a table and looked up toward the throne. He drew his pistols, watching, Tari, Tristan, and Zyianna fight.

The sounds of screams, gunshots, and the clang of metal against metal filled the air. A few more shots wouldn't be noticed immediately, not when the loyal side was so outnumbered. He took careful aim at the traitorous royal guard members up on the dais, picking them off so that it seemed natural and allowing Tari time enough to get Zyianna and Tristan in a more defensible position. He watched his rulers and their bodyguard for a couple seconds longer, then moved to another table, closer to the action. It was time for him to act.

The Shadows were some of the very few people allowed to go armed in the presence of royalty. He would have to be careful, else whoever orchestrated this barbarism would figure out just who he was. He shot down one of the guards who was menacing a frightened noble, then spun around, and shot someone who had snuck up behind him with his last bullet.

He pushed his glasses up, studying the action, the whirled behind some cover as bullets and arrows started flying his direction. He let his pistols drop and drew his swords in the same fluid motion.

Keep on the move. Stay still too long and you become a target. Dmitri exploded back into the fray with barely a pause in action, catching a guard across the throat with a sword before the guard knew what was happening. His compatriot behind Dmitri got a spinning kick to the chest and Dmitri moved toward the throne. Of course, he had been toward the back of the room when the chaos erupted.

He made his slow but steady way through what seemed an endless tide of traitors. There were so many of them... and so few loyal. Some of them may have even been loyal when this chaos started, even. Oh, they were all loyal to the country, Dmitri reflected, elbowing a man in the throat, but Country was not the same as King and Queen. The country would go on no matter who was on the throne.

He blinked and found himself nearly surrounded. A sudden, but not unexpected move. He looked around at the royal guard surrounding him, bloody blades held loosely, then kicked one of them and spun around in a circle, blades slicing two of the men. Now this was manageable. They closed in around him, and he fell into a defensive position, then leaped forward and touched the men in front of him, deep blue fire blossoming on his palm. It started to burn their armor as soon as it touched them, and those men screamed and fell back. He darted out of that deathtrap and somersaulted to avoid the darts, bullets and arrows, coming out of the roll with a slight grin on his face. He'd made it that much closer without dying, at least.

Only a few more battles, then he'd be at the dais, able to help, to protect. Possibly to change the future. He ran forward. A petite blond woman stepped in front of him and smiled sweetly. He skidded to a halt, feeling the blood drain from his face. No, this wasn't right. She hadn't been here, wasn't here at all. He could feel his scars start to ache just looking at her.

"How are you, Shadow?" she asked him conversationally, ignoring the screams and shouts, arrows and blood. It was as if they were sitting in a parlor together.

He stood in front of her, unmoving, hands clenching and loosening on the hilts of his swords. He couldn't move, couldn't look away, oh gods, why not?

"Shadow," she said, taking a step toward him. His breathing quickened and his eyes grew wide: a frightened rabbit. "Look up." She touched his shoulder and pointed to Zyianna, Tari, and Tristan.

He knew what would happen; he'd seen it happen so many times before. Zyianna, Tristan, and Tari fighting desperate and dirty, nearly overwhelmed. Zyianna in the most defensible spot, likely at Tristan's insistence. He wouldn't get there in time even if he tried.

"Look, Shadow, watch as the great Briniel gambit begins. See it, and know you've failed," she told him, her voice almost gentle.

He watched as the guard broke through even Tari's defenses, a sword flashing in the light, suddenly buried to the hilt in Tristan's chest. A moment of silent shock, then the great mage and king's last spell devastating the traitors. Zyianna fainting. Those loyal and remaining fighting with renewed vigor. Zephyr crying at the corner of the dais. Zephyr... Dmitri went to take a step forward, face twisted.

Suddenly, he cried out and jerked over.

The woman removed her knife from his stomach calmly and wiped it off, looking at him thoughtfully. Then she stabbed him again, the knife sinking up to the hilt in his abdomen.

He gasped, falling to the floor, and held the wounds rather uselessly. There was burning, searing pain.

"Personally," she told him, nudging him with her boot, "I would rather have kept you a while longer, played with you a bit. You're so tough, Shadow. A nice toy, but I could think of some uses for you, add to your nice collection of scars."

He coughed, and felt blood touch his lip. No... he had to stay alive this time. He could feel all of his old scars flaring up, even past the pain in his stomach, past the warm, wet blood. She would never capture him again.

"It's really too bad my orders were so clear." She knelt down and pulled his head up by a lock of silver hair, looking into his rapidly dulling blue eyes. "And so, you see, the Shadow dies."

He felt his vision begin to blur, the world turning into shades of gray. This was how it ended, then, a failed Shadow dying alongside his betrayed king. Who would they find to replace him? The room spun. Dmitri closed his eyes.