A Touch Of Darkness

25 || The Fight

Once the women have taken twin swords of their own and shuffled into place, Cody steps forward. "We'll need to act quickly if we're going to keep the element of surprise," he says. "They saw us run, but they won't yet know how much we stole or what we're planning."

A smile tugs at my lips. I hurry to hide it, afraid of giving the wrong impression, but the swell of pride lingers. Cody might have been reluctant to take this action at first, but now we are in the midst of it, he's taken on an entirely different role, and he practically glows with the pleasure of it. Aside from the fire, much of our plan stems from him. He has a real knack for it. He'd make a good army captain with the way he carries himself.

In front of the others, he continues on to explain our system, the control we aim to take over the fight to make up for our lack of expertise. Most of the gathered residents nod in earnest. A few appear more doubtful, but they are a minority. Cody knew some would be less keen. He is doing his best to smooth out that certainty with some semblance of a careful plan.

The older man who entered with us displays less hesitancy than disdain, his nostrils flaring, his finger rapping at the hilt end of the slim axe he rests beside his foot. But that may be not entirely due to what is to come. From his stature, the ease in which he stands stationary at the opening, I can assume he is the blacksmith Cody referred to when we outlined the happenings earlier. This is his workspace. I suppose it's fair for him to feel a stab of irritation at letting us take over.

Cody finishes his makeshift speech with a nod, and gestures to me. I don't need prompting. With a glance at the ashes in the hearth, I follow him out, wringing my hands as I squeeze past the blacksmith. I try not to notice the way his stern gaze zeroes in on my gloves.

Outside is strangely quiet. It takes me a moment to realise that the roar of the blaze is absent, the reassuring pop and crackle of flame swallowed by an unsettling void. My hand strays to my dagger, then to the sword, caught between the two.

By the perk of his head, Cody has noticed it too. He grabs my arm and steers me out into the square. I snatch it back as soon as I can, trailing instead as he jogs to the other side, although I note the shakes that loosen his grip. His gaze flicks briefly to the path to the forest before wrenching away as we pass. Despite his straight back and lifted chin, he's still frightened.

Heat writhes in my stomach. Fear has become a constant for me, it seems, a tidal wave inching higher with every step we take. At least I'm learning to quell its effects.

Ahead, Cody slows. We're in position. When I crane my neck, I can make out the ragged top of the inn, jutting above the rooftops as if sketched atop the skyline by a stick of charcoal. We now stand on the main path through Katamen, the one the soldiers would have expected us to sprint down had we not used the hidden alley. While the residents may not have an advantage when it comes to battle experience, they know this village far better than a group of foreigners.

As if on cue, a shape skids onto the street ahead, pointing a sword in our direction. The wave within me teeters, currents swirling. Before Cody can tug my arm again, my feet spur into action. His loud shout of, "Run!" is rendered useless.

We tear along a sidestreet, lingering only long enough to ensure the soldier laid eyes on us. Cody soon overtakes me. I clutch the sword sheath to prevent it from swinging, my legs protesting at its cumbersome weight. When I took the decision to take a larger blade of my own, a different weapon still to defend myself with, I failed to consider how much strain it would require to carry.

In front, Cody stumbles to a stop. It takes me a bare second to see why.

This street is a dead end. Rough-hewn bricks of grainy stone climb upwards, parting around a bolted door, straw dislodged by past winds dappling the cobbles beneath. The roof is just out of reach. The wall has its cracks, but it is too difficult to climb, especially for the weapons weighing us down. We're trapped.