Page 56 of Shadow Kissed
I’m almost there.
I am looking behind me to check no one is following me when someone reaches out and grabs me. Just as I’m about to scream, a hand covers my mouth and I fix upon two familiar blue eyes.
“Mother Goddess, Ark! You scared me to death,” I chastise him, punching him lightly on the arm.
He chuckles quietly. “I like to keep you on your toes. You ready?” he asks, holding out a bundle of clothes. “These should fit you, and this hat will hopefully help cover your hair.”
I take the clothes from him and gesture for him to turn. “What about my eyes?” I ask him as I slip off my own clothes and change into the jodhpurs and boots.
“If you keep the hat pulled right down and your head low, you should be fine,” he reassures me. He leans against the temple wall with his back to me.
“Ready,” I announce, and he turns and runs his eyes over my outfit. “Not bad.” He takes the hat from me and places it on my head, pulling it down so that it sits low on my forehead. With the wide brim, it should help keep my eyes out of view. He sighs and I look up at him.
“What?”
He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair and scuffs at the dirt with his boot. “Even in men’s clothes, you look good.”
“We should get going,” I suggest, clearing my throat. Desperate to change the subject. Arkynn nods and gestures for me to follow his lead. We wind through the trees at the back of the temple until we come to a large Crace tree. I double take as he clears ground behind the tree, revealing a round metal lid. He winks at me. “Secret tunnel into the village.”
He opens the hatch and gestures for me to climb down onto the ladder.
“Are the Shadow Borne aware of this passage?” I ask him as I step down into the dark tunnel space, gripping the ladder with my hands.
“If they are, they have forgotten about its existence. It was sealed off years ago, but the rebels opened it again.
I’m about to ask him how we are supposed to climb down with no light to guide us when he pulls out a citrine lantern to light the way. Citrine could store sunlight and is a great crystal to have to hand when sneaking around in the dark.
We climb down the ladder to what feels like about thirty feet below the ground. Arkynn lands beside me and—holding up the crystal—reveals a long dark tunnel that looks like it goes on forever and a day. It’s surreal to think we are currently walking underneath the valley. If anyone were to enter this tunnel now, we would have no way of escaping them.
We eventually come to the end of the tunnel and climb a metal ladder. Arkynn turns the large metal wheel, and the door opens with a resistant groan. He climbs out first and then reaches down to help me out. As I dust off my trousers and take in our surroundings, I see that we‘ve emerged in some sort of workshop.
“How far are we from the meeting point?” I ask Arkynn as he puts the hat back on my head, ensuring it covers my eyes as much as possible.
“Only a few minutes’ walk,” he replies, constantly looking around to see if anyone has seen us. “Now remember, keep your head down and don’t make eye contact with anyone, not even when we’re inside the meeting.”
I nod my head, and he gives my hand a quick squeeze before gesturing for me to follow him. “Let’s go.”
We keep to the tree line as much as possible and exit up the side of the factory. We come out onto a busy bustling street, with villagers going about their day. Arkynn slows his walk to a casual stroll, and we walk side by side in silence. I keep my head down, but I’m itching to look around. My sheltered life means I’ve seen little of life outside of Terleigh and I’m brimming with curiosity. Arkynn veers left into an alley and makes his way towards a small inn positioned just off the path.
When we enter it’s full to bursting with men and women enjoying a tankard of krim after a hard day’s work. A woman sings of longing for her lost lover while two men arm wrestle by the window, cheered on by their colleagues. Arkynn pushes his way through to the bar and orders us two mugs of krim then, handing me one, he guides us through the pub and out towards the back of the building, where we turn off down another corridor. He checks over his shoulder before rapping on the door. Three quick knocks followed by two longer ones. The door inches open a fraction. One brown eye peers through, falling on us before the door swings open and we’re ushered inside.
The room is compact, yet sufficient for the number of people here. There looks to be around twenty men and women in here. A man in a flat cap stands at the front of the room. He’s small in height for a guy, I reckon only five-foot-seven, but his arms are muscular, and he wears a wicked scar across his face that runs from just under his inner eye and out towards his jaw. He gives Arkynn a nod of acknowledgement when he spots us finding a spot at the back of the room.
He claps his hands together. “Okay, let’s make a start, folks! We’ve all got families to get home to and bellies to fill. Some of you may have heard about an attack on a scath convoy the other night. Now, I’d love to say it was us. That we planned and executed the whole thing, but that’d be a lie.” The crowd rushes him with a barrage of questions, and he holds up his hand to silence them. “In answer to your question, Rooklin, we don’t know who was responsible. Rumours are whoever attacked had night mutts working for them.” Again, the crowd erupts in conversation at this revelation. “That’s all we know so far. Now tonight we move our operation to the next step. Wheels are in motion to disrupt the reaping of our females!”
This draws a round of cheers and enthusiasm from the avid people around us. “They come here, take our women, and fill their bellies with their poisonous offspring. Now we make a stand and say no! These are our women, and we’ll no longer sit quietly whilst they take them from their homes and their families!”
“Aye! Bastards are nowt but thieves!” shouts out one man, shaking his fist. “My lad died in their bloody war!”
This draws more rumbles of agreement and shouts for justice.
“I hear you, my comrades! Which is why tonight we will strike them where it hurts. They’ll stop misjudging us and take us seriously after tonight, I promise you,” says the man in the centre, who I assume is the leader.
Arkynn leans into my ear. “That’s Corlan. He’s the rebel leader here in Hestwalde.”
I nod my head, my eyes drifting around the room. There’s a mix of ages, from the old to some who only appear seventeen or eighteen years in age.
“I can’t share too much with you, but we have a new spy on the inside. Someone who can get close to the scaths andhopefully bring us valuable intel. This could be the breakthrough we’ve been waiting for! Now, news from our comrades over in Wymondale.”