The Shadow Casket (The Darkwater Legacy) by Chris Wooding

Author:Chris Wooding [Wooding, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473214927
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2023-02-16T00:00:00+00:00

50

‘Hide,’ Aren whispered.

They needed no further urging. Scattering like mice, they hurried into the deeper dark of the storehouse eaves. With only moments to choose, Aren found a spot behind a stack of baskets; Fen followed, hunkering in close. Where Cade and Grub went, Aren didn’t see.

The stealthy creaking of their footfalls fell to silence, and all that was left was the drumming of Aren’s heartbeat and Fen’s breathing, rapid in his ear.

Nothing happened. The conversation outside continued, muffled by distance. More voices, raised in anger, outrage, alarm. But all that had faded in importance now. Aren waited, hoping against hope that the dreadknight would decide not to investigate the noise he’d heard.

The temperature dropped steeply, the cool autumn night turning chill. The skin on his arms crawled.

He waited. And waited. And still no sound of the door opening. Still no sign of him entering.

Fen’s eyes met his. She was thinking the same. What was Lacuna doing?

It was hard to think straight. The overwhelming wrongness of the dreadknight’s presence struck fear into the bravest. And Aren had seen what they were, underneath that armour. He’d seen how they were made. Panicked memories flashed across his mind: a half-formed thing flailing bloody and burning in the hatch of its metal womb; the horrific creature from the pit that came at its call.

He peered out from their hiding place and found Cade on the other side of the gallery, crouching behind a pile of hessian sacks. Cade made a face that was equal parts fright and exasperation. Why hasn’t he come in?

Aren looked back at the spot where they’d just been. Perhaps he should go and peer through the cracks again? Lacuna might well have returned to his horse. They could be hiding from nothing.

Fear kept him in place. These creaking boards would give him away. Better to be patient. Better to—

A sharp intake of breath from Fen. He turned to her, followed her eyes down. She’d seen something between the cracks in the planks directly below them. He didn’t need to guess what it was.

Gently, carefully, Aren lowered his head, closed one eye, peered through a gap.

A cloaked figure slid across his line of sight, long blade in hand. There one instant, gone the next.

Lacuna was inside. Aren felt panic climbing.

How? He didn’t even open the door!

An insidious frost crept through the cracks between the planks, spreading delicate fingers across the wood. As the dreadknight passed, he slowed his advance and finally stilled, a gleaming rime beneath his feet.

Lacuna was out of sight again. Fen’s eyes met Aren’s, and he saw terror there. There was nothing they could do but hold still. This dreadknight had bested Harod with a blade. If they were caught, if they tried to run, they’d die.

They waited helplessly, straining to hear a sound, seized by the pure, untempered fear of children hiding in a cupboard from the monster they imagined prowling in the dark outside.

But they were not children now, and monsters were no longer imaginary.

Where is he?

He could hardly hear the voices outside over his own heartbeat.

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