Shadows of the Night | BOOK 2 DRAFT

35

35.

The clearing at the foot of the castle is bathed in sunlight, the warm glow mocking the reality of our situation. The villagers are gathered around us, all shoved to their knees by hollowers or Malik's guards patrolling behind them. I tug against the topes binding me to the pole, darting my eyes to Malik who stands at my side. He won't meet my eye. Across from me, Elias stands, attached to the pole similarly to me, except the brace around his neck keeps him from moving. Cynthia paces the space between us, eyes scanning the crowd. I can see the thoughts ticking over in her head, a cunning plan fuelled by revenge lining her every step. When she meets my eyes, my blood runs cold. An audience is gathered around us. My execution is the show.

"Don't let her do this." My voice is low, so only Malik can hear. "She's going to hollow me." He ignores me. I tug against the rope as Cynthia starts to move towards me. "How could you do this to us, to me?"

He looks at me then, eyes dark. "The pain won't last long, I promise."

"You think I care about the pain?" I glare at him, my eyes blurry. "You're a coward, Malik. A coward and a traitor."

He looks away, jaw ticking. I want to scream at him, to grab his shoulders and shake him, but all I can do is stare. Soon, Cynthia's blocking my view of him, standing so close I can smell the sweat on her clothes. Deep lines etch her face as her gaze meets mine. She says nothing, she doesn't have to, the words are written in her eyes—the internal turmoil, the pain, the brokenness.

I don't break eye contact as she places a sweaty hand on my chin, forcing my head sideways. Her hair tickles my skin as she leans in, nails digging in when I struggle. Elias shouts something—too muffled for me to understand, as a sharp pain flourishes at my neck. My back arches as I squeeze my eyes shut, letting out a cry.

But Malik was right. The pain is short and sharp till I can't feel anything anymore.

~

I'm burning.

Every inch of my body feels as though it's on fire, sweat drenches my skin as I shoot up, a wave of dizziness washing over me as I blink my eyes open. I grab my chest, throwing the scratchy sheets off my legs. The room feels too small, like the dirt walls are caving in. I grab my chest and stand up, running a hand through my hear. Aboveground, I hear the yowls of the creatures, prowling around us. A chill runs down my spine.

As a child, I'd have nightmares about them coming down below and snatching me from my bed. I used to run to Charles' room and he'd assure me it was nothing more than a nightmare. But I'm older now, Charles would only scowl at me for approaching him in the middle of the night. Besides, I can't even remember what my nightmare was about.

I grab a sweater from the floor and throw it on, approaching the doorway in search of Flo's quarters. They're not much different than mine, aside from a few books her parents gave her. But she's always welcoming when I come in the middle of the night, holding back her covers for me. We used to sleep together a lot as children, now, not so much. Only when one of us can't sleep.

I pull the sheet back, leading into the tunnel, jumping in fright. Charles stands before me, stoic, as if he was waiting.

"Charles." I put my hand over my heart. "You scared me. What're you doing up?" He doesn't say anything, just stares at me, face still. "I had a nightmare, I was going to find Flo but... are you okay?"

As I blink, his face distorts. His eyes hollow, cheeks sinking like wax held too close to a flame. I take a step back. "C-charles?"

From behind him, he brings out a machete, raising it overhead and sending it sailing towards my chest. A strangled cry escapes my throat as I lunge backwards, a millisecond too late. The machete punctures my chest. Pain flourishes from the wound as I stumble to the ground, hands reaching for the whole in my chest as the world around me darkens.