Chapter Seven #2
The smell hits me before the sight does.
A putrid odour eating away at my nostrils and stinging my eyes.
A fragrance no doubt derived from the musk of a thousand bodies living side by side in a place with no sun or fresh air to smoke out the lingering scents.
I scrunch my nose to adjust myself to it and blink back the watery sensation in my eyes. Ryder looks over at me and smirks.
“You’ll get used to it.” A slight chuckle leaves his lips, and I send him a sharp stare. This is definitely not the type of smell I would like to get used to. “Come on.” His eyes narrow as he ushers me to follow him out of the elevator. “You don’t wanna get lost down here.”
I don’t doubt him. In this place, getting lost means never coming back.
“Name and Gift.” A tall man snarls from beside us, guarding the entrance to the eluded city.
He is wearing a cloak not dissimilar to the ones we are wearing, the hood carving most of his features into shadow.
His eyes, however, can be seen through the smudge of darkness—narrow and unforgiving—eye contact so direct it feels as though his eyes have hands and they are squeezing my chest. Ryder steps forward first, sure and certain.
He eludes an energy like he is supposed to be here, his very breath feeding into the very darkness of this place as his shadows unfurl around him.
“Sebastian Arrow, Gift of Shadoro.” His voice is sure and sparks not even an ounce of doubt in those unblinking eyes watching his every move, even though he gave a fake name.
I can’t help but wonder if this Sebastian Arrow was a real person he had known, or if he was just a figment of imagination—two words randomly strung together to create a person.
We hadn’t spoken about giving fake names before, and now the thought of giving myself one, convincing enough, made my stomach twist.
The hooded man turns to me.
“Ava Karrin, Gift of Shadoro.” The name just flew out of my mouth; I hadn’t known that the syllables would actually form words as they did.
But my breath steadied at the realisation that the name sounded…
good—It sounded real. A shadow, like Ryder’s, sways like a flame in my palm as I wait for the hooded man’s verdict.
Had I been convincing enough? I had to be.
The shadows seeping from me were undeniable; they were Moon. In this moment, I was a Moon, and I was Ava Karrin.
The hooded man’s eyes dragged slowly up my body and then back down again, as if looking for loose threads in my woven lies. His eyes linger on the shadows whirling like black liquid on my palm before finally he steps to the side and nods, my breath finally releasing with him.
The shadow realm vibrates with a strange electric life, a city buried beneath the surface, lit only by flickering neon signs and the glow of torches wedged into crumbling walls.
It’s not dirty, not really, and nothing like I had imagined; it’s raw—a twisted kind of thriving.
The smells in the air change the further we walk into the realm.
Hints of smoke, sweat and sizzling meat waft from the food stalls that line the crooked streets where vendors shout over each other, selling skewered lizard meat and spiced rat broths.
I stifle a gag and peel my eyes away pretty fast.
“Sebastian Arrow?” I mutter once we’re safely out of range of the hooded man’s chilling stare.
“Ava Karrin?” he shoots back with a smirk, and heat floods my cheeks.
“We didn’t discuss the fake names,” I hiss, clinging to his arm a little tighter as I force myself to stare straight ahead.
“That’s because you didn’t need one. They don’t know you here.”
He chuckles—soft, smug, infuriating—and his eyes crinkle with amusement. My cheeks betray me again, warming even more.
“You asshole,” I grumble, giving him a sideways glare.
“But you love me anyway… Ava.”
His laughter spills out louder this time, echoing down the dim streets. I shove his arm, breaking my grip on him, though a smile threatens to betray me.
“I may love Ryder,” I say, lifting my chin, “but I’m starting to hate Sebastian.”
He laughs again—deep, warm, and annoyingly beautiful. Even in this place, drowned in noise and shadow, Ryder’s laughter still finds a way to glow.
Asshole or not.
Children dart between the crowds, grinning with quick hands and quicker feet, tugging at pockets and slipping away before anyone notices.
The men here are carved from chaos, faces bruised, lips split and knuckles wrapped in cloth or blood.
I try not to make eye contact with them and keep my head down just as Ryder told me to.
A small tug grips the sleeves of my black robe. A sharp-faced child with soot and grime smudged on her cheeks looks up at me with wide eyes.
“Got any change, miss?” She begs, and I look up to notice Ryder a substantial way ahead of me.
“Sorry, I wish I did.” I simply say to her as guilt twists in my stomach. Her face saddens but changes slightly as she gazes upon my face under my hood.
“Those earrings look nice.” She comments, making the guilt even more prominent in my stomach. I give her a small smile and unclasp them from my ears, placing them in the soft palm of her hand. These earrings have no sentimental value, and she looks like she needs them more than I do.
The minute the sterling silver makes contact with her skin, she is gone. A ghost in the wind. I gaze up again and cannot see Ryder anymore. My heartbeat quickens.
Shit. I have broken the first rule already.
Ryder is going to kill me if these streets don’t get to me first.