Chapter Thirty-One
I felt it before I saw it. My eyes flashed open, and I shoved the covers off me as I scrambled my legs into me, and a creature hopped on me again.
My mind immediately went back to Twobble giving me the same morning greeting at the cottage, which felt like so long ago.
I sucked in a breath and sat up fully, clutching a sheet. “Who are you?”
The short creature resembled a mole or shrew of some sort, but it appeared to be about ten times larger than either of those, with flappy ears.
Why I thought it would answer should tell a person the state I was in.
“Up. Up. The Priestess doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” He hopped up and down like an eager rabbit.
“You talk,” I whispered.
The creature scowled at me. “Of course, I speak. Now, get up, or I’ll be to blame for your tardiness. And I had enough of that when your sulking mother was here.”
“You were with my mom?” I asked.
Fear struck his gaze as he quickly shook his head. “No. I didn’t mean that. It slipped out. Just get ready.” He threw some clothes at me that weren’t mine. I held up a black velvet cloak as a pair of black slacks slid off the bed and onto the floor, along with a matching turtleneck.
I picked them up and stared at them. “Does the Priestess prefer camouflage for all of her guests so we blend into the shadows?”
“You joke now, but beware, the Priestess doesn’t have a sense of humor.”
A smirk covered my face. “I’ll try to remember.”
“Good. Now get dressed.” He went to the window and shoved the curtains open, staying facing the opposite direction.
“What’s your name?” I also wanted to ask what he was, but I figured that would be rude.
“Barlen,” he muttered.
I slipped off yesterday’s clothes and stepped into the pants, pulled over the turtleneck, and tied the cloak. But what I really wanted was a shower.
I slipped the pebbles from Twobble into my new outfit and cleared my throat.
“Come. Come.” He spun around and nodded, giving me the once-over.
I followed him out the door, down the hallway, through a stone corridor, and into what appeared to be a dining room fit for a queen, or I suppose a Priestess.
The moment her eyes found mine, he scurried away.
“Take the day and get acquainted with Shadowick,” the Priestess said, standing at the end of the breakfast table. “But first, eat.”
I hadn’t slept even a wink, but I wasn’t about to let that be known.
“Please, sit,” she tried again, trying to sound somewhat maternal, but it fell flat.
Bowls of strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries sat on a silver tray, along with granola. It all seemed so…normal.
But I desperately missed Stella’s tea shop and the kitchen sprites at the Academy and…
“Eat.” Her words were harsher this time, and I obeyed.
I picked up a strawberry first. It looked perfect. Bright red. Fresh. Tiny seeds caught the sunlight. It seemed normal. But the moment I bit into it, bitterness spread across my tongue so sharply I nearly winced.
It wasn’t rotten or poisoned. It was purely…wrong. It tasted as if sweetness had been drained from it and replaced with something tainted.
The Priestess watched me from the far end of the table, one elegant hand resting against the back of a chair. She didn’t eat. Didn’t even pretend to.
“Not what you expected?” she asked. She curled her fingers into her palm, making a fist.
I swallowed carefully. “A little more sour than I’m used to.”
Her mouth twitched faintly. “Shadowick’s soil produces stronger fruit. It isn’t by choice, but a person gets used to it.”
I forced myself to eat a few more berries anyway because I had the unpleasant feeling that refusing food here would somehow become symbolic. Everything around the Priestess eventually seemed to become emblematic.
The raspberries were worse, and the blueberries tasted faintly metallic.
I missed Stella’s cinnamon scones so fiercely that my chest physically hurt.
The Priestess moved toward the doorway. “Barlen will accompany you.”
“I’m touched by the trust you have in me.” I moved my gaze to hers.
“You misunderstand.” Her eyes stayed on me. “He’s there to protect Shadowick from you as much as the reverse.”
Before I could answer, she moved from the dining table and out the door.
The silence afterward pressed strangely against my ears.
I looked down at the bowl of berries again.
I shoved away from the table and stood just as Barlen poked his furry little head around the doorway.
“You’re done?” he asked.
“I’ve suffered enough.” I rolled my eyes. “Those berries were awful. No offense.”
His whiskers twitched. “You should have eaten more. She won’t be pleased.”
“Were they tainted?” I asked.
“You mean with a spell?” He frowned. “That’s rude. Berries are a delicacy.”
“They taste unlike any berry I’ve had. They’re awful.”
“Only to outsiders.”
That made me pause, and I studied the little creature more carefully as he adjusted the tiny satchel hanging across his chest. His fur was dark brown with silver streaks around his ears, and his little claws clicked anxiously against the stone floor every few seconds.
“Do they taste different to you?” I asked. “Do you like them? Are they sweet?”
His gaze flicked to mine too quickly. “Berries are supposed to be sweet?”
Barlen’s question tore my heart a little. “Yes.”
He gestured impatiently with both paws. “Come along. The fog thickens later, and the pathways become difficult to see in Shadowick.”
I knew it was true. Every time I’d stepped foot in Shadowick, whether through dreams or reality, the thick fog settled in, making it difficult to decipher what was real and imagined.
“I’m not up for too much exploring today,” I told him, feeling like my time would be better spent at the compound.
He grumbled under his breath as he led me through a corridor, which was lined with tall windows overlooking the inner courtyards.
In daylight, the compound looked even stranger.
Towers curved in impossible directions. Bridges connected sections that shouldn’t have aligned structurally.
More black vines climbed the walls in thick twisting clusters, blooming with tiny silver flowers that opened when I passed.
I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that those were all being fed by prisoners.
My shadow mark pulsed at the sight of them, and oddly, so did my butterfly mark.
Neither were with pain, but merely recognition…again.
We passed two shadow guards standing beside an arched doorway. Their faces were hidden beneath dark masks as Barlen hurried me past.
Everything about the compound felt watchful, as if everyone had learned that silence spoke more than words.
Barlen led me down a narrow staircase and through a side hall where the stone beneath our feet changed. The polished black floors gave way to rougher cobblestones, uneven and worn with age.
“Is Shadowick safe?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“For now,” he muttered.
A pair of massive iron gates stood ahead, partially open beneath an archway covered in twisting root carvings. Beyond them stretched rolling dark hills veiled in dark gray fog.
The moment I stepped outside, cold air wrapped around me and clung to my skin with a dampness that could only be found in Shadowick.
In front of us, Shadowick’s mist curled harshly around cottages and buildings. The fog moved with intent and threaded through the hills in long, drifting ribbons that occasionally twisted against the wind as though following things unseen beneath it.
Barlen tugged nervously at his satchel.
“Stay close to the pathways,” he warned.
“You say that like there are consequences.” I tried to tease, but he looked up at me, worried.
“There are always consequences.”
The path winding from the compound was narrow and dark with damp soil.
Strange silver grass bent under the fog, brushing against my boots as we descended the hillside.
I’d never entered Shadowick Village from this direction that I could remember.
Everything looked strangely askew and just as unsettling as from the other direction.
I glanced back once.
The compound towered over everything as the dark stone absorbed the pale sun filtering through the clouds. But all I could think about was how it was feeding on the dungeon dwellers.
I tore my gaze away and brought it back to Barlen.
“What exactly am I supposed to do today?” I asked.
Barlen sniffed. “Observe.”
“Anything in particular?” I asked, letting out a deep breath.
“The Priestess believes if you see Shadowick properly, you’ll understand.”
“And do you believe that?”
His little paws tightened around the strap of his satchel. “Understanding and agreement are different things. I believe that you will find what you were meant to see.”
Interesting.
The path curved sharply between two hills covered in black trees with pale bark. Tiny lanterns hung from some of the branches, though they remained unlit during the day. Symbols had been carved into the trunks that I didn’t recognize, and I glanced at Barlen, who seemed to be picking up speed.
“What are those symbols?” I asked.
He answered without looking. “Shadow blockers.”
“What do they do?”
“They help to keep the energy within. Now, carry on.”
“Wait. The tree’s energy?”
“Well, the energy of whatever it’s placed on.”
“Is that why Shadowick always feels so…”
“Stale? Decrepit? Musty?” His furry brows lifted, and he carried on walking.
“Yeah. Exactly.” I followed him, and the farther we walked, the quieter everything became. A person would think heading into the village would make things more vibrant, but it never seemed to do that in Shadowick.
The only sounds I heard were the soft crunch of gravel beneath our feet and the distant creak of something metallic moving somewhere deep in the fog. Maybe a cart of some sort?
My fingers slipped into my pocket and curled around Twobble’s pebbles again.
Home.
I missed Stonewick.