Shadow War: Book 3 of the Shadows Rising Trilogy (WIP Rough Draft)

2. Drowned Rat

4th of Eylestre

I stood with my back against the open door, chewing my lower lip and waiting.

The 'mark,' a greengrocer named Farro Killspear, leaned his short bulk against the door jamb behind me, watching over my shoulder as Orrelian went through the 'office' – a storage room on the top floor of the apartments above Killspeare's shop.

After a moment, Killspear tipped forward a little farther and whispered, "Didn't hear a thing, ye were that quiet."

Orrelian opened the secret compartment in the desk, peered inside, then jotted a few notes in his little black book.

"Out of curiosity, did-ee know it would be me a'bed?" Farro asked, a little louder. "T'night, I mean. Not that-ee do know a'fore, right?" When I didn't answer, he went on with, "I din't. Right surprised I was when Orrelian comes in an' wakes me up from sound slumber wi' news it were all over, like."

I glanced at him, my attention torn between the intense expression on Orrelian's face, and Farro's apparent need to strike up a conversation.

Farro offered a jolly, gap-toothed grin.

Relenting, I responded. "It's a random draw. I don't know who is going to be in the room, or even which room I have to go in through until the night of the test."

His grin widened. "Lah, but ya do talk pretty Miss. I'd sit an' listen t'ya all day, I would."

I cocked an eyebrow, hiding a smile as I turned back to observe Orrelian's progress.

He was checking the bookcase. He made a final note, then shut his black book with a snap, and wheeled to look at me, thick black brows locked in a stern frown.

I had missed something. I swallowed and looked down, preparing for a lecture on how many things I should have done.

"I'll take my leave, I think," Farro had the grace to mutter before ducking off down the hallway.

None of Orrelian's 'marks' ever stuck around for this part, and there had been days at the beginning that I had wanted to run away too. Orrelian's time in the army did not make for pleasant teaching moments. Somehow, though, being repeatedly told on no uncertain terms that I wasn't good enough, and that my stupid mistakes were going to get someone killed, had only made me dig in my heels and try harder.

He was in fine form tonight, letting the silence grow till I was fighting the urge to fidget. For once, though, he didn't start shouting. Instead, one corner of his mouth twitched. Then the other.

"I passed," I whispered. When he didn't say 'no,' I stood up a little straighter, meeting his eyes. "I passed?"

He hesitated a beat longer. Then, abruptly, he announced, "Ya did," and started forward, stepping around me into the hallway.

For a moment, I stared into the empty room. Then I about-faced and hurried after him.

Arramy was standing watch at the bottom of the stairwell at the end of the hall, and as I came down the steps his gaze met mine, his brows raised in unspoken question.

A grim smile and a lift of my hands was all the answer I had before we both followed Orrelian down the rest of the stairs, descending into the basement and slipping out through Killspear's hidden access to the war tunnels. Then the three of us were winding our way unseen beneath the city streets, jogging home through damp concrete passageways by the light of Orrelian's military lantern.

I kept pace with them easily enough, thanks to the brutal physical training Marin had me doing. Elation wasn't the right word for what I was feeling. It wasn't victory, either. I had passed a test, yes, so there was a flicker of dull relief, but it was more like finishing one lap of a marathon. I still had miles to go.