Chasing Shadows (Saving Galerance, Book 1) (20 page)

With that, the man was gone, slamming the door behind him
and leaving the kitchen in silent sobriety. For a minute, a cold mist seemed to
hang over the kitchen like a blanketing winter fog. The joyful spark of the
Spinning Sugar seemed a whole season away.

However, the tension in the room didn’t last long as one of
the officers commented, “He’s just mad cause he doesn’t have any real horses to
whip anymore.”

The guys let out a nervous round of chuckles, slowly
overcoming the icy wave that the older officer instilled in them.

“I’m glad I’m not Fletcher,” Creason said, shaking his head
and staring at the kitchen door.

“Me too, but it’s got nothing to do with ol’ icy-stare back
there,” Kade joked.

“He wouldn’t really horse-whip you guys, would he?” Norabel
asked, her eyes wide with concern.

“Nah,” Kade waved his hand in dismissal.

“He did it to Emmett once,” Finn added quietly.

Norabel spun to where Emmett stood. He had his head hung to
the floor, and his cheeks were turning pink.

Kade, seeing that his friend was growing uncomfortable,
decided to change the subject, saying, “Well, we should really get you home,
Norabel. Don’t want any of our other crusty officers walking in here and
yelling at you.”

She gave him a smile and then promptly went to the oven to
take out the sweet bread for Delia’s present. Handing it to Creason, she
instructed him on how to handle the bread and the sugar domes until it was time
to light it.

Kade then offered to escort her back home, when Emmett cut
in, saying, “Hey, you had your turn!”

“There’s no turns here!”

“Well let me remind you who it was that met her first.”

“Oh, you’re pulling that card, are you!” Kade said,
playfully cuffing him over the head.

Emmett shoved him back, but Kade relented to him a moment
later.

“Alright, Emmer. Go on and get her home safe.”

Emmett straightened his shirt, ruffled his hair back in
place, and turned to Norabel, who was trying not to laugh at the boys’
interaction.

“Norabel,” he said, giving a gentlemanly sweep of his arm.
“Will you allow me to escort you home?”

“I’d be honored,” she told him, giving him a smile.

He led the way out of the kitchens, choosing not to link
arms with her as the more confident Kade would have done. When they were
walking along the hallway, away from the noise of the other officers, Emmett
glanced over at her and commented, “You seem to have a real knack for helping
people.”

“It’s an addiction, really,” she said, referencing to the
first time they met.

Emmett motioned for her to follow him down a north-ward
facing hallway, leading her to a part of the castle she hadn’t been to with
Kade and the others. As they walked in silence, Norabel couldn’t help but
wonder what kind of suffering Emmett must have gone through when he was
horse-whipped by that angry man. It must be horrible, she realized, having a
job in which your boss was allowed to physically hurt you if you made a
mistake. She wanted to ask him about it, but she knew it would only make him
more uncomfortable.

A minute later, Emmett led her to a door that opened out to
a courtyard in back of the stronghold. From here she could see the grate that
led underneath the castle, and her stomach tightened at the thought of it,
hoping she wouldn’t have to use that entrance in the future.

“So uh,” Emmett stuttered, coming out of his silence. “H-how
did you say you knew Creason’s girl again?” He ran a hand down his hair as he
spoke, self-conscious of how it might be sticking up in the back.

“We both work at the Potter’s Workhouse,” she answered.

“Oh, you’re a potter,” he said, nodding. “Sounds
interesting. So what do you make, like pots and mugs?”

“No, just bowls.”

“Oh, just…” he trailed off and stopped walking. “Bowls,” he
said, his shoulders falling in disappointment.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. Emmett seemed to have come to
a realization that did not make him happy. But she didn’t know how her making
bowls could have triggered it.

“You’re the bowl maker,” he whispered under his breath,
shaking his head.

“Is that bad?” she asked, concerned.

He finally looked up to her and offered her a sad smile.
“No, I just…remembered something is all. Come on,” he said, starting to walk
once more. “Let’s get you home.”

When Emmett escorted her to her street, he made sure to stay
out by the dirt of the road as she walked to her front door, respecting her
privacy. Then, giving her a wave and bidding her a goodnight, he headed back down
the road. She watched him go and then turned back to her home, glad that
Fletcher had not been waiting for her. Though Emmett was a Pax official, she
didn’t want to mix him up in her problem with Fletcher. If he tried to stand up
to him, Fletcher would probably end up making his life a nightmare.

However, as she entered her house, ready to go to bed early,
she noticed that a candle was lit inside her living room. At once, her heart
shot up in her throat. It was too dark to see anyone inside, but she knew that
he
was waiting for her. Though her short interaction with his boss earlier filled
her with pity for him, it didn’t make her any less afraid of him. Glancing back
to the open doorway behind her, she wondered if she should just go and leave
him to himself.

Before she could decide, Fletcher’s voice called out, “Shut
the door, Norabel.”

She took in a shaky breath and closed the door with a quiet
thud. Now it was even darker inside. The single, flickering candle in the
living-room seemed to only enhance the darkness of the night.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said. A chair squeaked, and
she realized he was getting to his feet. “Walking home with Emmett,” he mocked.

The floor moaned as he drew closer to her. Norabel didn’t
know what to do other than to stay by the door. At least it offered her a means
of escape if she needed it.

Fletcher’s smug laugh danced through the house and sent
shivers down her spine. “You think that a little boy like Emmett can stop me?”

“I don’t know what,” she started to say, but gasped when
Fletcher leaped out of the shadows, pinning her to the door.

His fingers dug into the skin on her shoulders as he said,
“Or maybe you’re waiting on someone else to come riding in to save you.” He
shook her, causing her head to bang roughly into the wood behind her. “Well, it
isn’t going to work. Once he gets back, he can’t do a wretched thing to stop
me. And if he tries, then he better sleep with a sword in his hand, because
I’ll run anyone through that tries to stop me.”

Through the terror coursing through her, she tried to make
sense of what he was saying. Could he be talking about Hunter? Was that why she
hadn’t seen him in a while? Because he had been gone on a trip? But how would
he know that she and Hunter knew each other?

“I-I know,” she stuttered out, “I know about your boss,
a-about w-what…”

“What do you know!” he growled. “You don’t know anything!” He
lifted a hand up and held the side of her face, whispering, “You have no idea
about me and my life.”

His hand stroked her cheek, and Norabel tried to turn her
face away from him, straining her head so far that her cheek was pressing into
the door.

“Please stop,” she whispered. She shut her eyes and imagined
Mason charging through the door, ready to fight this man off her. But she knew
it was just a fantasy. Mason wasn’t coming. He was no more a part of her life
than a boss was to a worker.

She moved her hand to reach for the knob on the door, but
Fletcher saw it, taking his hand away from her face to seize it. In her chest,
she could feel her lungs tightening up. She didn’t know which would be worse
right now, facing Fletcher, or an attack from Jotham’s.

“Listen Norabel,” he said, pressing his lips to her ear.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me. You can carry on as you were, talking about
beams of light in the morning and the smell of wet clay. I like all that talk.”

“Then what do you want?” she asked, feeling the skin on her ear
burn from where his hot breath scorched it.

He finally pulled away from her and grabbed her chin so that
she would face him. “Compliancy,” he answered in a single, decisive and
sickening word. “So next time, make sure you’re home when I come calling. Because
I don’t like to be ignored.”

Then, keeping her hand pressed to the doorknob, he twisted
it and opened the door. Norabel nearly collapsed as the support behind her was
taken away. Her knees fell to the outside dirt, and she looked up to see Fletcher
standing over her.

“I’m just telling you now,” he said, shaking his head. He
stuck his hands in his pockets as he walked away. “I don’t want you to get hurt
in the future,” he called out over his shoulder. A thin smile curved up his
face, and a glint flashed in his eyes that said he was very much looking
forward to the coming days.

The second that he was far enough down the road, she
scrambled to her feet and ran back inside, shutting the door behind her. Her
hands shook with silent sobs as she rushed to lock the door. Then her strength
gave out, and she allowed herself to give into her tears as she crumpled into a
ball on the floor.

“Please help me,” she cried softly, reaching her hand out to
the wooden floor behind her. “If you’re there.” She looked blindly to the dark room
in front of her. “Please make this stop.” She sniffed and wiped at the slick
skin underneath her eyes. “I know you’re real…but I could do with a little more
proof right about now.” She sniffed again and waited. “Please,” she squeaked.
“Just this once.”

But the little shack on the western edge of Breccan was
silent, and suddenly Norabel felt as if she had made a very big mistake, not
following her parents back home. They had never seemed so far away from her,
and she had never felt so alone.

The sun had nearly disappeared behind the mountain cliffs
when Norabel arrived at the rocky meadow. A small fire had been lit on a bare
patch of dirt, but her team was not gathered around it, waiting for her in
quiet conversation. Instead, they were all four in the middle of the meadow,
paired up and engaging in what looked like hand-to-hand combat. In the dancing
flicker of the fire and the dying light of the sun, Norabel saw Logan try to
take a swing at Archer, while a few feet away, Ashlin sent Mason flying to his
back. She winced at the harsh impact, but Mason promptly got to his feet and
threw Ashlin a smile as if he had rather enjoyed the experience.

“Uh, guys?” Norabel called out, taking a few cautious steps
towards them.

“Norry!” Archer exclaimed pleasantly. “You’re just in time
to see me pummel Logan to the ground!”

The two boys circled each other for a moment, readying their
fists for action.

“I think the more accurate term,” Logan said, lunging out
for Archer’s arm, “is getting your sorry backside kicked!”

Logan managed to twist Archer’s arm behind his back, but
Archer broke out a second later and tried to swipe at Logan’s feet. Neither of
them were very successful in making contact, and they continued on in this
futile manner for several moments, having quite forgotten about Norabel.

“I-I snuck into the stronghold last night,” she offered,
raising her voice slightly so they would be able to hear her over the grunting
of their fight.

“Great,” Mason commented in a strained voice. He tried to
lunge out for Ashlin, but she ducked out of the way. “Why don’t you tell us
what you found?”

Norabel blinked at them in confusion, wondering if she was
supposed to tell them all while they were still fighting.

“Oh, okay,” she said. She stepped back as Ashlin suddenly
flipped through the air, landing close to where she had been standing. She
hoped they wouldn’t ask her to practice fighting. She wouldn’t be able to last
a minute in her condition.

Trying to speak over the sounds of both their fights, she
began to recount to them everything she had learned about the stronghold’s
layout. She let them believe that she had entered the castle through the water
grate, and gave them only tactical information, labeling rooms and corridors,
and describing where they were located. However, she wasn’t sure if they were
really paying attention. She was almost tempted to tell them that a giant
chicken enrobed in a velvet cloak laid at the heart of the stronghold, just to
see if they would notice.

It hurt to see them paying so little attention to her when
she had risked her neck to get this information. More than that, she wondered how
the team was planning on getting around the stronghold if they didn’t listen to
her directions.

Things suddenly became clearer when Ashlin looked over to
her in between attacks, saying, “That’s really great, Belly. Course, you’ll
need to be with us when we do the job.”

“What?” Norabel asked, her hands feeling very cold in the
evening air.

“Well yeah,” Ashlin said, expertly grabbing Mason in a head
lock. “I mean, it’s one thing to be given a map, it’s another…” she let Mason
go and readied her hands, “…to have actually been there before.”

“I thought you wanted to be let in on more jobs,” Mason
said, avoiding a punch from Ashlin and grabbing her arm in the process.

He managed to lock her arm behind her back, and she threw
him an encouraging smile, saying, “That’s good! You’re getting it!”

“Only cause you let me,” he pointed out, wiping away the
sweat from his forehead.

“Well, I guess I could come,” Norabel murmured. Her
shoulders drooped when she saw that no one was paying attention to her.

“There is one thing that’s bugging me,” Archer commented.
Logan had managed to link up both of Archer’s arms, and had them awkwardly
flapping in the air as he tried to speak.

Looking over to their fight, Mason stifled a laugh. “And
what’s that?” he asked.

Logan comically moved Archer’s arms up and down as he said,
“What I don’t get is how we’re going to release this sleeping powder without,
you know, falling asleep ourselves. I don’t really want...will you!” Archer
exclaimed, trying to wriggle free from Logan’s grip. “I don’t really want to be
found…” he wriggled even harder, struggling in vain to get free, “…to be found
curled up like a baby in a…Ah ha!” he shouted when he finally broke free.

“Don’t worry Archer,” Mason said, stepping away from his own
fight. “We’re not powdering ourselves.” He reached his hand inside his pocket
and took out a small metal tube. “We’re gonna use these to delay the release.”

He threw the object towards Archer, who held it up to his
face in inspection. “And what exactly is this?” he asked, skeptical that this
small tube would save him from harm.

“We use a form of this at the steel works,” Mason explained.
“It’s for when we want to light a furnace, but we want to be far enough back
beforehand. Inside the tube is a type of low-burning Snapper. You light one
end, and it burns slowly to the other end, where there is a higher grade of
Snapper. When it hits that point, then a bigger spark ignites. In this case, it
will set the FPS on fire. I’ve cut a series of vents on top of the box for the
smoke to escape when it does.”

“How long are you giving us before it starts smoking?” Logan
asked, smoothing his hair down from where Archer roughed it up.

“About an hour. We need that long in order to plant the rest
of them throughout the castle and be out before the first one goes off.”

“I think we should hit the officer’s spire first,” Ashlin
said. “Work our way from the top to the bottom. That way we can sneak out
easily enough when we light the last one.”

“Sounds good,” Archer nodded, bending over to catch his
breath. “Probably the best way to do things.”

“And I think we should go tomorrow night,” Ashlin announced,
playfully coming up from behind Mason and wrapping her arms around his middle.

“So soon?” Norabel asked, careful to avoid looking at where
their arms were linked together.

“The guy I contacted about getting the Sleeping Powder just
came back to me today with them,” she said. “So, the sooner the better.” Ashlin
then stepped away from Mason in order to address her more directly. “But I
am
gonna need you to find out a few more things for me. What I want to know is where
Chief Auberon’s rooms are. Because if we don’t get the chief, then this whole
thing is for nothing. And I’m also gonna need you to find us a feasible way to
sneak inside. A side door or a tunnel or anything.”

She waited for her response, and Norabel nodded obediently.

“Right, well, I think we covered everything,” Mason said,
moving their meeting along remarkably fast considering what they were planning.
“Tomorrow after work everyone should meet at my place so we can go over it
again with more information.”

The group all agreed, and Archer was about to walk away,
when Ashlin called him back.

“Before you all go,” she said, “I feel I should tell you
something.”

“What is it?” Logan asked apprehensively.

Ashlin looked over at Mason, and he reached over and gave
her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Taking a deep breath, Ashlin announced, “What you’re doing,
with the raid on the stronghold, and even before with the stables and the
manifesto and the summer festival…well, the truth is, none of it was really my
idea. At least not originally. Every single idea actually came from my
parents.”

The group was silent as they watched her pinch the bridge of
her nose, trying to compose herself. When she looked back up, she bore the face
of a stoic warrior once more.

“A few years back, my guardians helped me find out exactly
who my parents were. They put me in touch with one of their old friends. And,
when I met this man, he told me that the reason my father had been killed and
my mother had been sent to Arkadiak was because they had wanted to start a
rebellion. They never got to accomplish much, but he said that they had thought
it all out, planned every step they would need to take in order to overthrow
Amias and the Pax.”

Ashlin looked down to where Mason’s hand was clasped around
hers and rubbed her thumb over his knuckles.

“I may not have known my parents,” she continued. “But at
least I can know them through this. And they may have been killed, but at least
they can live on through this. So I want to thank each one of you,” she said,
looking around their group and making eye-contact with everyone, “for giving me
this. For giving the kingdom this.”

She took a step forward and raised her hand so that it was
hovering at waist-height. “For Galerance,” she said, looking out at all of them
once more. “For freedom.”

Mason was the first to step forward, putting his hand on top
of hers. Logan, Archer, and Norabel took the cue to step in as well, and soon
all of their hands were bound together. The look in Ashlin’s eyes sent a fire
through Norabel, and she realized that she was just as excited about this as
everybody else. Her parents and her grandfather would be proud of what they
were doing. She was an important part of the Harbinger team, and she felt
strong for once in her life, connecting her hand with theirs.

Then Ashlin took her hand away, the group was breaking up,
and Norabel’s strength went slipping away as quickly as that. She was reminded
of what she really was. She was a Jotham, the victim of a leacher; she was a
delicate thread in danger of breaking. Even though the job was tomorrow night,
and it promised the chance to be rid of Fletcher for at least a little while,
she was still afraid. One night with him could be a lifetime.

Norabel did not move as Logan and Archer took off for the
village. She stood still with eyes glazed, staring into the fire that had been
lit at the corner of the meadow.

“You should get going to the stronghold,” Mason advised her.
“We still need vital information.”

He stomped out the small fire with his boot, and she watched
with a sinking heart as the embers died, leaving nothing more than a black pile
of dust on the earth.

“Mason,” she said, taking a few cautious steps towards him.
“I really need to talk to you.” Even though she asked the question, she knew
what his answer would be. It was almost as if she was torturing herself, asking
him one last time for the sole purpose of affirming his disinterest in her.

“I can’t,” Mason said, avoiding her gaze and going over to
where Ashlin stood. “Ashlin and I have a lot of work to do. And I promised her
we would practice sword-fighting.”

Norabel nodded to the ground, telling herself that she had
expected nothing less. But her fear told her not to give up yet.

“It’s important,” she said, taking a single step towards
them.

Ashlin, who had been holding onto Mason’s hand, took it
away, saying, “Mason, you can…”

“No,” Mason said, reaching out for her hand once more and
keeping her tightly to his side. “Stay.” Then he looked to Norabel, asking,
“Can’t this wait until after the job? We’re really busy.”

He gave Ashlin a nudge, and they started walking towards the
path that led back to the village.

“There’s this leacher,” she called out after them, speaking
to their backs. “His name’s Fletcher.”

“Yeah,” Mason said, waving his hand in dismissal. “We’ll
deal with it after the job. Good night, Norabel.”

As they were walking, Ashlin turned around and gave her an
apologetic wave. “Good luck tonight,” she offered.

Norabel bit down hard on her lip as she watched them leave.
Their shadows were disappearing in the fast approaching night, shrinking into
small, dark blue specters behind them. An angry wind blew through the narrow
canyon as she walked back to the village, and for a moment she wondered if it
wasn’t the sound of her guardian, yelling at her for not having tried harder to
speak with Mason. But what more could she do? How could she earn Mason’s help
when he seemed to treat her as though she was the enemy?

When Norabel reached the stronghold later that night, she
circled around the courtyard until she had a straight line of vision to the
water grate on the north side. There were guards marching around the perimeter,
carrying torches, but there was a gap of about thirty seconds in between. Since
there were no other torches lit, it was easy to see them coming because the
approaching light acted as a warning.

Without trying to think of the consequences should she be
caught, she waited until one of the guards had just left, and then sprinted
across the courtyard to the grate. She found the opening that Mason had made
and grabbed onto the metal bars above, sliding her feet in first. She had
gotten herself halfway through when she saw the faint light of a torch reaching
around the corner of the castle closest to her. Trying not to panic, she
hurried to push herself in deeper, the coppery scent of musty dirt and metal
filling her nose as she pressed her head inside the narrow gap.

Her head just came through into the water tunnel when the
officer finally rounded the corner. She stayed still, knowing that she would
draw attention to herself if she tried to move around. Luckily the man was
looking the other way, watching the streets to the north instead of the castle
to the south. When she could no longer hear his footsteps, she turned from the water
grate and started to walk down the narrow tunnel.

The light from the outside lasted no more than a few feet
into it, and she found herself placing her hands on either side of the stone
walls to steady herself as she walked blindly ahead. The water tunnel soon
began to slope downward, and she had to move slowly in order to keep her
footing.

She inched forward for another minute until she walked into
an old chain. Stopping, she felt around for her surroundings. It seemed as if
the water tunnel continued on, but that there was a chute directly above her.
It had probably worked as a well once, and the chain most likely connected to a
water bucket.