Shadow Road: Book 1 of the Shadows Rising Trilogy

Prologue: Shadow Road

It was the middle of the second shift, and Southend Street was quiet. Mrs. Ardeshi was sitting sentinel on her bench in her patch of yard, and a little farther down, Mrs. Reinost twitched her curtains aside.

Nosy-Rosy neighbors had their uses. Those beady, suspicious eyes would be on me wherever I went, and I wasn't going far.

Rule 1: Tell someone where you're going.

I closed the front door behind me, then waved and smiled. "Hello, Mrs. Ardeshi!"

She harrumphed and looked away, folding her lips into a disapproving pucker.

"Beautiful day isn't it? You're looking fine this morning. Is that a new shawl?"

She gave me a flat once-over from the corner of her eye, then relented, a little grin of pride creeping through. She ran her gnarled hands over the hand-knotted black and pink yarn. "Aye, t'is. My Lisse made it. Got it in the Post yesterday, all the way from Pordazh Kaskara."

"It's beautiful," I called. "I'm on my way to the corner. Can I get you anything from Grint's?"

Mrs. Ardeshi lifted her chin and sniffed. "Nay, I've got plenty ta keep me, child." Then she leaned forward over her cane. "But ye could tell that man of your'n I need 'im ta fix me stove pipe! Cain't warm me shins wi'out breathing soot."

Right on cue, my cheeks went pink. Your man. What a pathetically pleasant fiction. I pasted a flat smile on my face. "He's on a late shift tonight, but I'll send him straight over in the morning."

Rule 2: Never go anywhere that no one can see you.

I checked to make sure Mrs. Reinost was still observing everything from her window. She was.

That wasn't enough. He would be disappointed in me when he got back from the docks, but if I didn't go now, Grint's would be closed by the time my shift let out, and we both needed a more substantial meal than two-day-old gruel.

Still, I glanced around again. It really was quiet. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing. We had been hiding for months with no sign that we had been followed. Everyone believed we were dead. There were no links left to trace, no ties to the lives we had left behind. They wouldn't find us here. Nothing was going to happen if I stole ten minutes of freedom.

I patted the well-worn doorframe of 68, whispered a reassuring "I'll be back in a moment," turned, and went down the steps to our little walkway, then on down the block to the cluster of eating establishments at the corner. There wouldn't be many patrons at that hour, but the staff would be inside preparing for the dinner rush when the canning factory let out. I wouldn't be completely alone.

Grint's had just opened. Mrs. Demyrre was shaking out the mud runner on the front stoop, sending up a small billow of sand with every flap of her arms. Across the street, I came to a stop and chewed my lower lip for a moment. The shelves probably hadn't been fully stocked yet. If I waited a few more minutes, I wouldn't have to beg her to bring anything out. I also might be able to get a glimpse of 'my man' while he was working.

That did it.

Feeling a bit like a little girl sneaking away from school, I turned and headed for the public dining pavilion across from the eateries instead. It was deserted, save for a few seagulls. Grateful for small mercies, I made my way between the seats, smiling as the gulls complained and took flight on their stark white wings.

A stone wall separated the pavilion square from the sheer drop of the bluffs overlooking the bay, and I rested my elbows on the capstone, stretching up on tiptoe so I could get a better look at the wharves. It didn't take much to find the weather-beaten yellow sign of Padashiri's Shipping. The dockhands were outfitting the bulky old Camberstone-Froley steam-driven merchanteers for their return run to Pordazh Kaskara, and pyramids of crates were stacked up on the dock outside the warehouse, ready to be loaded.

There he was, shouldering a big box of fruit onto a loading trolley. He was one of the men who made hard labor look easy, and as usual, the sight of him made me grin. Also as usual, reality quickly followed, bringing with it the same, dull reminder that he didn't feel the same way about me. To him, I was only a friend, at best. At worst, a problem he had decided he was responsible for. I ground my teeth and dropped down onto my heels again, hating that hollow ache in my chest. This had only ever been a temporary arrangement born of necessity. I knew that. Allowing myself to feel anything more was only going to make it worse when he succeeded in getting me to safety, and his self-inflicted duty to my father came to an end.

I needed to get the shopping done. With a sigh, I stepped away from the wall and turned toward Grint's.

Rule 3: Keep your back to a barrier or corner and keep your eyes on your surroundings.

Up the street, Mrs. Reinost drew her curtains closed.

There was no warning, no hint that I wasn't alone. They must have taken their time sneaking up on me and hidden in the pavilion. I was about to start walking back through the seating area when I caught the blur of rapid movement behind me. On instinct I ducked and spun away, but it was already too late. They were too close, and too fast. A grain sack was over my head, and then big hands were on my waist, snatching me off the ground.

I screeched. I fought. I lashed out with my feet and elbows, slammed my head back in hopes of catching a nose or throat.

That was the end. There was a hoarse grunt and a muffled curse, and then something heavy collided with my temple. Sparks exploded behind my eyes. My body went limp as a ragdoll. The last sound I heard before darkness stole me away was a low, growled, "'Ey! Don't dent the merchandise, ya meigre!"

~~~

Clink... Clink-clink... Clink... Clink-clink.

A sliver of light appeared, painfully bright. The sliver disappeared as my eyes drifted shut, but the darkness was no longer absolute.

Clink... Clink-clink... Clink-clink... Clink... Clink...

I took a slow breath.

Oil. Hot metal. My left cheek against something gritty.

Clink... Clink-clink... Clink...

I opened my eyes again, deliberately this time. I could only lift my right eyelid. The left was stuck shut.

Ever so slightly I moved my head, blinking around as my vision wavered in and out of focus. It seemed I was inside a large, rectangular room. Light came through a small, barred window high up on one wall, creating moats of gold that hung in the air before painting the opposite wall in warm stripes.

Clink... Clink-clink-clink... Clink... Clink-clink...

Another slow breath, this one threaded with the reek of feces, urine, and stale sweat.

I gagged, then had to cringe and clutch at my skull as liquid fire went streaking through my brain, centering in my left temple.

Something dragged at my wrists, accompanied by a metallic rasp and a dull thump from somewhere in front of me.

An icy swirl of fear shot through my belly. Carefully, I opened my good eye and tried to focus.

A girl was lying there, looking back at me.

She was quite pretty, with fine-boned features, rippling wheat-blonde hair, an upturned nose and thick black eyelashes, but there was something wrong with her face. It was slack. Immobile. Her eyes were fixed and cloudy, and there was an oddly grey cast beneath the ivory of her skin.

I didn't have to look further to know that she was dead. The dull thump had been her head hitting the floor. Her shoulder had shifted when I raised my hand – there was a shackle on her arm, and the chain welded to that shackle led to a shackle on my own wrist.

My breath left me on a silent scream as I finally realized where I was.

Nearby, the song of the Shadow Road sounded again: Clink... Clink... Clink-clink... Clink... chain swaying against chain.

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Meigre: (Ronyran) An idiotic, oafish, or clumsy person