Curse of Shadows (Arcane Academy Book 1) by Kara Silver & Veronica Shade & Rebecca Hamilton

Author:Kara Silver & Veronica Shade & Rebecca Hamilton [Silver, Kara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

The train’s brakes screeched, and the train shuddered to a halt. Murmurs broke out all around the carriage, all around me, and they got louder the longer the unauthorized halt went on.

“This is a through train!” exclaimed the old guy across from me, his moustache quivering. “t’s not scheduled to stop here!”

Yeah, if I’d had to bet money on anyone kicking off, it’d have been him.

“Something blocking the line?” A woman tried to peer out of her window and see up then down the track.

I hadn’t been on a train since I was a kid, but even I’d figured this abrupt stop wasn’t normal. For a millisecond, I was glad to have my assessment confirmed, but then the general fear that had gripped me since getting on at Manchester Piccadilly edged up a notch.

I made a mental check. I paid cash for the ticket. Kept my head lowered around the surveillance cameras, as much as possible. Spoke to no one.

“Oh, it’s inspectors!” said the woman, as if uniformed men boarding the train was fine, okay, no problem.

Maybe it wasn’t for her. But me? I was cold with sweat. I sat stiff, my gaze on the magazine spread open on the table I was sitting at as if the pages were the most fascinating thing ever. I hadn’t taken in a word and now couldn’t even focus as the carriage door whooshed open and a uniformed man strode in.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to, the way people straightened up, holding out their phones or their passes. He paused at my table, spending at least a minute examining the pass the old guy opposite held out. Neither of them said anything. People tended not to, around any authority figure. You let them speak to you.

My hand shook, holding out my ticket, and I fought not to launch into speech, not to remark bet you don’t see many of the paper ones, eh, and I fancied an impulse trip to the capital—this exhibition at the museum looks so fascinating I—

He held onto my ticket for much longer than he had the old man’s pass, and when he gave it back, slapping it into my still outstretched hand, the contact reverberated throughout my body. The second the uniformed figure passed onto the seats behind me, I sagged. I didn’t look up again until we pulled into Euston Station.

Think, Marlowe.

I couldn’t get a step wrong.

For the second time that day, I changed in a ladies’ toilet. After finding the uniform where I’d been told I would—inside the bathroom waste bin—I swapped my jeans for rustling blue trousers with an elasticated waist and peeled off my sweatshirt to pull on a loose-fitting, short-sleeved collared top over my T-shirt. It caught on the oversized imitation pearl earrings I was wearing, a match for the ring on one finger.

Now the bit I had to focus on: catching the Underground. I wasn’t used to London and certainly not its transport system. Northern Line to Kennington, get out at the sixth stop, Embankment, then walk down Whitehall Place to Whitehall.

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