Kip & Shadow

  Kip and Shadow

  David Pietrandrea

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  About the Author

  Also by David Pietrandrea

  Acknowledgments

  “The body is the ponderable, material, terrestrial thing, endowed with a shadow....”

  — M. M. Pattison Muir, The Story of Alchemy and the Beginnings of Chemistry

  London, 1881

  1

  The calls and screams of animals came from every cage. It was a primal sound, pure and frightening. Kip hadn’t expected this when he’d taken the job. He hadn't expected to feel the tug of anxiety as it tried to overwhelm him.

  They waited in the ticket booth at the entrance to the London Zoo. Its thin wooden panels kept out the chill of the night air. Kip’s green satchel sat on the table in front of him, his life’s work inside it. Every tonic, tincture, and powder; all the tools of his craft tucked into neat compartments. He fiddled with them as they waited.

  The small hut was a museum of newspaper clippings. They were pinned to the walls showing the parade of exotic animals that had passed through the gates.

  The striped tiger from Bengal.

  The pygmy marmoset.

  A speckled aardwolf.

  Most had been temporary residents, only here long enough to be gawked at before taken somewhere else. Others had died in their cages, not equipped for the noise and smog and stresses of London.

  The anxiety wouldn’t go away.

  He ran his fingers through his auburn hair and then pulled at his shirt, as if ordering himself would order his mind. He'd dressed up for the job, wearing a deep red tie, tucked into a plain vest with ebony buttons. His sleeves were rolled up, the trace of chemicals and powders on his hands and arms. But dressing for the part had done nothing to calm him.

  His companion, Shadow, didn’t seem to share his worries.

  Shadow’s blue-orb eyes appeared and disappeared as he turned his head, taking in the sounds of the zoo; the screech of a bird, the scream of gibbon. Kip had never seen his friend look so alert. He was especially cat-like tonight as his small, spectral form absorbed the moonlight, carving a darker shade in the night. A misty tail snaked behind him like a question mark. It was matched by a tuft of darkness on his head in place of ears. He crouched on all-fours, his compact body loaded like a spring.

  He turned his flat face to Kip.

  “Shadow always wanted to go to the zoo.”

  “I know,” Kip said. “It’s better in the daytime. They have popcorn.”

  Kip heard a sharp whistle from Constable Hewitt, two quick bursts of sound that cut through the air.

  “He’s coming back. Should we go out to meet him?”

  Shadow nodded. He breathed on the surface of a metal flask left on the table, watching his reflection appear and disappear.

  They pushed open the door and stepped outside. Massive roman columns stretched overhead and moved out in a half circle, connecting to the first cages of the park. Hundreds of rod-iron stakes made tiny worlds for every bit of exotica and all the sounds that came with it.

  Kip remembered the zoo from his childhood. He could see the map of it spreading out in front of him. He’d spent summers watching animals perform on the stage at the center of the park, or the violence of a Punch and Judy show as actors savaged their puppets. Two pools of water surrounded the stage, making a small island at the heart of the zoo.

  A large fire pit stood a few feet away, an empty copper disc inviting flames. Kip imagined it burning, the flames dancing, the crackling mingling with the sounds of animals. It was a primitive continent here in the center of London.

  He saw smoke rising from chimney tops, Londoners tucked in for the night, forgetting they were so close to an alien world. Somewhere, just over those chimneys, was his home, Alchemy House. He could almost see its low tower and shingled rooftop. He longed for it, to be wrapped in its walls; to close the door on the world.

  Footsteps interrupted his thoughts. Constable Raleigh Hewitt approached, breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed. His eyes darted in all directions as if he expected an attack at any moment. Scotland Yard contacted Kip only when it was absolutely necessary. There was a tension between law enforcement and the Great Houses of London. Alchemy House was no exception.

  The constable spoke in a whisper.

  “I checked each cage. Something’s been at them. You can see the claw marks in the door and what looks like bite marks on the metal. What could leave such marks, I don’t know.”

  “Canis Lupus.” Kip said. “The western gray wolf of North America.”

  The constable laughed nervously. “Surely not, Master Kip. The zoo’s only specimen died three weeks ago.”

  “And that’s exactly when the killing of other animals began. There’s been no evidence of break-ins, just some fierce thing slaughtering animals without a trace.”

  Hewitt paused, processing this new theory. He pulled a chestnut pipe from his jacket and filled the bowl with tobacco. Kip caught the scent of cherry.

  “Chief Sergeant Axton was skeptical of your claims, but wanted to try anything. He thought the master of Alchemy House could surely help.”

  Still skeptical, Kip thought. That’s why we’re here at night, under the cover of darkness.

  “How’s it all work?” The constable asked, speaking around his pipe as he cupped his hands over it. The flare of a match lit his face.

  Kip wanted to impress this man and his superior. He wanted to show them the power of his art form. But he’d never been a showman. His explanations always sounded too rehearsed and labored.

  “As alchemists we believe the material world can be distilled down to base elements, all matter wants to be refined to its most basic form. The wolf would be no different. It’s left an imprint of itself on this world, even if its form has been corrupted.

  “I believe the base elements that comprised it are still present, having taken another form. I believe we can call back those base elements. If we can reconstitute them we may be able to ‘summon’ a pale reflection of the wolf.”

  Pale, Kip thought. No matter how sophisticated his arts, that’s all it would be.

  He watched Hewitt’s eyes move over Shadow as he took in this new information. It was the same reaction for anyone who met him, part seeing and accepting, and part bafflement. It was as if they saw him and were forgetting him at the same time. It’s the same for me, Kip thought. Shadow fell between reality and dream, something half-remembered.

  The constable broke from his daydream.

  “You seem quite artful in these processes, for someone so young,” He’d been fishing for Kip’s age, maybe not willing to commit to someone so young, not wanting to trust his case and career to a boy.

  “I’m twenty, long past my apprenticeship. Long enough to attain the appropriate knowledge. I’m also the Master of Alchemy House.”

  The roar of a lion cut through the air.

&nb
sp; “Hell’s teeth,” Hewitt hissed. “You’d think we were in the jungle.”

  “The jungle’s come to us.”

  “So what do you propose?”

  “I think the wolf is killing other animals.” Hewitt made to interrupt him again, but Kip held up a hand. “I think it’s found a way back to this plane, chemically. Some form of it is stuck here. I intend to call it back now and then purify it.”

  “Purify it?”

  “Break its bond to this world.”

  Hewitt sighed. “You know best, I’m sure. Best get on with it, if you’re getting on.”

  Kip nodded, and saw Shadow nod in unison out of the corner of his eye. He then reached for the green satchel at his feet, cracking it open and smelling the familiar fragrance of aged leather. He reached into it and pulled out two small glass vials and a pewter plate.

  He stood, pulling down the edge of his vest, and walked to the fire pit. It seemed like the right spot for such a ritual. He set the plate in the center and emptied the contents of one of the vials onto it. It looked like a bit of crushed coal with the glint of small blue particles mixed in.

  “Two drams of borax and one of antimony, to agitate the connection between our world and the next.”

  Shadow padded over and rose on his hind legs, his paws on the lip of the disc. The glow from his eyes turned the copper blue.

  Kip pulled the cork from the second vial with a sharp pop, and poured a viscous liquid onto the plate. A sharp blaze of green flared as the two elements touched. A curling ribbon of smoke rose into the air. It flitted away, hurrying up one of the columns and disappearing into the night sky. Hewitt approached cautiously as Kip worked.

  “As you know, Constable, there’s no known process for bringing something dead back to life, but we can hope to make contact through the veil.

  “A warning though, the experience can be…disruptive. We don’t know what aspects of the wolf will emerge. A soul can be like a diamond, many facets anchoring it together. Break one and the entire stone can come apart. Who knows what will remain.”

  Constable Hewitt nodded dutifully, staring into the glowing embers on the plate. A steady stream of smoke rose from his pipe.

  “Ready?” Kip asked, turning to his spectral friend.

  “Sure,” Shadow purred with his child-like voice. He fidgeted with a medal he’d pinned to his chest, something he’d found in a drawer in Alchemy House. It had a bit of red and white-striped fabric that led to a golden disc. He looked at Kip, his lips parting for a moment, revealing his blueish, rounded teeth.

  “Very well,” Hewitt said. He reached into another pocket and pulled out a folded handkerchief. Carefully unfolding it, he handed the contents to Kip.

  It was a tuft of the wolf’s hair, a neat bundle of black and gray. Kip took it in both hands and held it over the plate. He thought he felt a tug as if the fur were drawn to the fire. He let it fall into the plate.

  Then came the blast.

  A sensory explosion, something hidden in the air between them, tugged at the very matter that bound the world together. A loud crack followed by the gathering of green light. It hung in the air above the fire pit, thin veins of green knitting together.

  Two emerald eyes came into focus above the plate. They were wild, searching back and forth.

  For prey.

  Kip felt a static charge move through the air. It crawled over his skin, giving him gooseflesh. The smell of sulfur breathed from the center of the pit.

  Hewitt backed away.

  Smoke turned to light and wrapped itself around the eyes. The green threads knitted together, the light carved shapes in the air. First just a suggestion and then a more solid form. Four paws landed on the copper disc, splayed claws scraped the surface. The ghost of bones and muscles wound together. It ended with a thick, bristling collar of fur.

  The wolf was no longer a theory. It was here, and real, and angry.

  Emerald eyes burned. They spoke to Kip.

  Why did you summon me here? What right did you have?

  The beast howled, its voice echoing as if bouncing between two worlds.

  It reared up and then fractured into a dozen pieces, blazing like green fireworks. Explosions moved in a circle around Kip, Shadow, and Hewitt; a spectral threat display that penned them in.

  The light flared on their faces, making them look sickly. Hewitt pulled a knife from his belt, its metal a tiny blaze.

  “We won’t stop it that way!” Kip yelled.

  He imagined it lashing out, its teeth on their necks before they could react. He would have to make his own threat display.

  Kip reached into his bag and pulled out a handful of tiny paper bundles, each packed with a mixture of his own invention. He threw them to the ground where they exploded with a sharp snap. The blast pulsed through every color of the spectrum, tiny explosions ricocheted through the air.

  Shadow bounced on his tiny legs and clapped like a child.

  As if injured by the explosions, the wolf’s splintered form came back together with a snap. It let out a piercing yelp, then jumped from the pit. It was a cloud of green now as it moved away from them like a ghost, speeding down the center alley of the zoo. Its green light moved out through the mist like a searchlight, disturbing each caged animal it passed.

  “Have you seen this before?” Hewitt yelled.

  “Yes,” Kip said as he thought, No. Nothing like this.

  Shadow spoke breathlessly.

  “It’s hunting, Kip. It wants prey. Shadow will be the prey and the bait!”

  He laughed and jumped from the stairs before Kip could protest. This was the part Shadow liked, the chase. Kip’s friend was coiled action waiting to pounce.

  “Lead him to the stage!” Kip yelled.

  “Why the stage?” Hewitt asked.

  “It has two pools of water on either side and the aviary behind it. I don’t think it will want to cross the water. We can trap it there.”

  There was no time for more talk. They ran into the mist.

  It was another world. Shapes moved by like passing ships in a fog. Kip imagined wooden masts and tattered sails. Some magic was at work, shrouding everything in the same in-between world where the wolf lived.

  Shadow’s voice sounded distant before it faded to nothing.

  Kip kept moving forward, reaching one hand out to find the metal bars of a cage. Snatches of Shadow’s laughter cut through the atmosphere, sharp bursts of sound, followed by the howls of the wolf. They moved in a circle around him. Distant and then near.

  His friend’s blue eyes raced towards him, two vibrating orbs. He felt the breeze as Shadow flew by, followed by the hulking shape of the wolf, an invisible force that knocked him out of the way.

  Thrown back against the bars of a cage, the cold iron dug into Kip’s back. A concussion of sound filled his ears as something slammed against the bars, sent him reeling. He fell to the ground as a massive shape reared up in the darkness. It kicked at the iron with giant, leathery feet.

  Kip covered his ears as it trumpeted again, its trunk curled in an S-shape. Flat ears fanned the mist that surrounded it.

  African elephants ears are the shape of Africa, he thought madly, his mind offering up some bit of knowledge.

  He saw the glint of an eye and the keen intelligence there.

  There would be time to ponder all of it later, time to think in the safety of Alchemy House.

  He got back on his feet and ran.

  Just get to the stage.

  The stage was the center point of the zoo, the place everything flowed to. In the daylight it was a place for laughing children and the reveal of new wonders. Poor animals paraded in front of gawking crowds, forced to perform.

  In the darkness it looked different. It looked like abandoned ruins, something left by a lost civilization.

  The water in the pool was still and black, an amphitheater carved into it.

  Stairs went from the amphitheater up to the stage. Behind it was the caged aviary. I
ts ornate bars twisted into criss-crossing patterns. Darks shapes moved inside it, calling out with shrill voices.

  Kip ran up the stairs and onto the stage.

  A papier-mâché sea serpent hung above him, suspended by thick ropes. It watched him, its leering mouth open showing white teeth. It was a prop for some children’s play, showing them danger in a tamed world. A painted curtain hung to one side, covered with images of wooden ships lost on the sea.

  Pulleys and thick ropes hung like gallows from a wooden scaffold over the stage. Kip climbed a ladder to his right and pulled himself onto the scaffold. It creaked under his weight as it swayed back and forth. He came face to face with the serpent, its mouth gaping and hungry.

  Decomposition.

  That was the key. He could break apart the wolf’s chemical trail, decompose the creature that lingered behind.

  He slipped his bag from his back and, reaching into it, found a glass jar sealed with wax. A shimmering liquid moved inside it. He removed the seal and dropped a metal ball into the jar, no bigger than a piece of gunshot. The liquid delighted in touching another element and began to smoke and hiss.

  Tools ready, now he needed the subject of his experiment.

  Kip brought his fingers to his mouth and gave a sharp whistle. He hoped it would cut through the fog.

  Laughter echoed.

  Kip pulled his Sulfur Glass from his bag and held it to his eyes. Through the dark window, he could see a new world. The Glass revealed all the invisible markers that humans couldn’t see; paths of smell, sound, and hidden auras. They mixed together in the night.

  He spotted Shadow’s familiar blue trail – coming from the wrong direction. The aviary stood between him and the stage.