I knew it was true. Every time I’d stepped foot in Shadowick, whether through dreams or reality, the thick fog settled in, making it difficult to decipher what was real and imagined.
“I’m not up for too much exploring today,” I told him, feeling like my time would be better spent at the compound.
He grumbled under his breath as he led me through a corridor, which was lined with tall windows overlooking the inner courtyards. In daylight, the compound looked even stranger. Towers curved in impossible directions. Bridges connected sections that shouldn’t have aligned structurally. More black vines climbed the walls in thick twisting clusters, blooming with tiny silver flowers that opened when I passed. I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that those were all being fed by prisoners.
My shadow mark pulsed at the sight of them, and oddly, so did my butterfly mark.
Neither were with pain, but merely recognition…again.
We passed two shadow guards standing beside an arched doorway. Their faces were hidden beneath dark masks as Barlen hurried me past.
Everything about the compound felt watchful, as if everyone had learned that silence spoke more than words.
Barlen led me down a narrow staircase and through a side hall where the stone beneath our feet changed. The polished black floors gave way to rougher cobblestones, uneven and worn with age.
“Is Shadowick safe?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“For now,” he muttered.
A pair of massive iron gates stood ahead, partially open beneath an archway covered in twisting root carvings. Beyond them stretched rolling dark hills veiled in dark gray fog.
The moment I stepped outside, cold air wrapped around me and clung to my skin with a dampness that could only be found in Shadowick.
In front of us, Shadowick’s mist curled harshly around cottages and buildings. The fog moved with intent and threaded through the hills in long, drifting ribbons that occasionally twisted against the wind as though following things unseen beneath it.
Barlen tugged nervously at his satchel.
“Stay close to the pathways,” he warned.
“You say that like there are consequences.” I tried to tease, but he looked up at me, worried.
“There are always consequences.”
The path winding from the compound was narrow and dark with damp soil. Strange silver grass bent under the fog, brushing against my boots as we descended the hillside. I’d never entered Shadowick Village from this direction that I could remember. Everything looked strangely askew and just as unsettling as from the other direction.
I glanced back once.
The compound towered over everything as the dark stone absorbed the pale sun filtering through the clouds. But all I could think about was how it was feeding on the dungeon dwellers.
I tore my gaze away and brought it back to Barlen.
“What exactly am I supposed to do today?” I asked.
Barlen sniffed. “Observe.”
“Anything in particular?” I asked, letting out a deep breath.
“The Priestess believes if you see Shadowick properly, you’ll understand.”
“And do you believe that?”
His little paws tightened around the strap of his satchel. “Understanding and agreement are different things. I believe that you will find what you were meant to see.”
Interesting.
The path curved sharply between two hills covered in black trees with pale bark. Tiny lanterns hung from some of the branches, though they remained unlit during the day. Symbolshad been carved into the trunks that I didn’t recognize, and I glanced at Barlen, who seemed to be picking up speed.
“What are those symbols?” I asked.
