Shadows of the Night | BOOK 2 DRAFT

29

29. 

I don't know where the hollower is leading me. His hand stays tight around my wrist, tugging unnecessarily hard each time we round a corner. But I follow, like an obedient child, my blood thrumming in my veins. The gravity of the situation weighs heavily on my chest. I've handed myself over to them, Elias is alone, I could've signed both our death warrants.

Our shadows stalk us as we go past the library, down the stairs, through the hall. It's only when we reach the top of the staircase leading into the castle foyer that we see another person.

The foyer is dark, lit by a sole lantern strung up along the wall. Outside, humidity hangs in the air, but the castle walls keep it out, instead welcoming a cool draft. The hollower tugs me closer, to the top of the staircase. Two hollowers stand guard at the castle doors, machetes in their hands. Another two stand at the entrance to the hall leading down to the prisons. My eyes flick across their face, panic pulsing through my body. I'm screwed if one of them recognises me. This will all be for nothing if I am not anonymous to them, if I don't manage to escape before Cynthia gets back. Because if they don't know me, she will. And she will kill me.

"What've you got there, Truey?" One of the hollowers asks when he notices us. He steps slightly forward, into the light cast from the lantern. I duck my head so my hair falls across my face. I don't know him, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know me.

"Got a runner," the hollowers, Truey, says, shoving me forward. I hold my breath as all four guards stare at me, waiting for a flicker of recognition, of something. But they all just stare.

Truey grabs my arm and tugs me down the staircase. When we reach the ground, the hollower who'd stepped forward moves even closer. His hair is blading on the top of his head, and deep wrinkles line his face. "Human or creature?" he asks.

I glare at him in response.

"Fine, don't tell me." He steps forward, raising his machete and turning it so the blade glints beneath the light. My stomach twists in knots when he pokes it towards me, but the Truey grabs me from behind as the hollower slices the machete across my upper arm, drawing blood. I let out a sharp cry, gritting my teeth.

"Human. " The hollowers grins.

"Yeah yeah, enough games," Truey says. "I'll chuck her down with the others."

"Don't even wanna go outside and teach her a lesson first?"

"Cynthia wants everything ready for the morning," he says. "All of them." He tugs my arm past them. "Come on."

The hollowers were talking about the next morning when Elias and I were hiding in the cupboard, too. Cynthia wanted things to be ready. But what for? A chill creeps down my spine as he guides me towards the entrance to the training room, behind the staircase and away from the prying eyes of the hollowers guarding the doors. Whatever they have planned for the morning, I can't be around to find out.

The slice on my arm stings as he tugs me down the staircase, into complete darkness. I count each step we take to distract myself. Surprisingly, we don't come across any hollowers guarding the staircase below, and when it widens into the training room, no hollowers jump out at us either. Why isn't this being guarded like the entrance to the prison rooms?

The room is so dark I can't make much out. I squint my eyes. The weapons have been stripped from the walls but the obstacle course remains where it always was. On the ground, bodies huddle together, heads hung. I swallow the lump in my throat, stepping forward as the hollower grunts.