Read Shadows of Sherwood Online
Authors: Kekla Magoon
Robyn took a deep breath and headed up the second staircase. “Let's find out.” With the sun pendant, she keyed in through the door. She stepped into a dim chamber. The
slim, rickety ladder wasn't exactly fun to climb. The space grew narrower and narrower as she went up the throat of the tower, then it widened into a square surrounding the huge tower bell. She hoisted herself into a catwalk-like service space near the apex of the old church.
The brick walls of the bell tower had seen better days. Fresh air whispered through the cracks. Robyn breathed deeply. Her fingers played against the rusted shell of the old church bell as she eased onto a ledge of ragged bricks. The surface seemed rough but sturdy.
On the inner wall, a large painted arrow bore the familiar words above it: BREATH BLOOD BONE. And below it: AIR EARTH WATER. A few small stone carvings were scattered about the floor. Robyn nearly tripped over a full quiver of arrows, carved in the old style she had seen Nessa Croft carrying. Each was made of a feather, a stick, and a stone from the sea. They were beautiful.
Her friends crowded into the narrow space with her. Together they peered out over the buildings of Sherwood. Amazing, how this place had grown so close to her heart in such a short time. She knew now that she would never have survived if she had tried to stay near home. Sherwood had protected her and folded her in as if she belonged.
Robyn took in the familiar sights: the sagging, dilapidated roofs and colorful flapping stretches of clothesline; the dark tops of people's heads as they walked along the streets. Soul music beats drifted up to her from open apartment windows
and parks where young people had gathered. Waves of laughter and chatter rose up from knots of old men at the street corners.
She had come here to hide, but now she had a chance to make a real difference, to bring a little bit of hope and justice and power to the community, just as her father had always tried to. His dream had become her dream. She was the one who remained to carry it through.
In the distance, beyond the deep stretch of woods, stood the towering bulk of the governor's mansion. Its gold, glittery dome evoked nothing but anger in Robyn, in contrast to the beauty and sorrow that characterized Sherwood. Mom was in there, somewhere.
Robyn imagined Crown lurking somewhere in those endless marble halls, cushioned by the resources he was slowly draining from the people. Along with the food and the money, he sucked away their opportunities, their livelihoods, their independence, and even their dreams.
When you had nothing, as Robyn did now, it was easy to see through the promises Crown was making to the people. It was easy to see how much they lacked. Especially since Robyn had once had everything.
She clutched her parents' pendantâliterally the key to it all. When hunger threatened to get the best of her, she would think of Mom and Dad. When the creeping doubts threatened to let her forget what she was fighting for, she would think of them.
Robyn would never stop looking for them. But she had a bigger job now, too. It was what they would have wanted.
Soon, she and her friends would start planning the next supply run. It was all going to be more dangerous, now that Mallet had a clear picture of her face. Robyn was sure that new Wanted posters were up already. She breathed the thought away.
As long as Crown sat on his throne of power, as long as her parents remained trapped in his prisons, as long as the people of Sherwood continued to suffer, Robyn would fight. And she was no longer alone.
The people of Sherwood were counting on her. She couldn't let them down.
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Cracking the Code
The forensics lab hummed with activity. Sheriff Mallet stood just inside the doorway perusing the many posters, charts, and images plastered along the gray-green walls. Anything to avoid staring at the shouting hologram of the hoodlum Robyn. The techs had placed the sphere inside a sound-muffling glass container, but they could not shut it off entirely. The looped image danced above the glass, projecting that confident rallying cry from behind a grin so lifelike that Mallet itched to step up and slap cuffs on the insolent creature.
The lead forensic tech stood in front of her, babbling about the procedures they would use to crack the recovered hologram sphere. Mallet glossed over the technical mumbo jumbo. She understood enough. Robyn's identity would not be a secret for long. When the techs discovered what Mallet already knew, she'd have no choice but to report the truth to Crown.
“How long will it take?” she asked, interrupting his rambling.
The lead technician shrugged. “It's DNA coded in three ways: by touch, breath, and blood. Could be a few days or a few weeks.”
Mallet presided over the operation for a minute. She stared into the projected face of her enemy. A teasing, taunting child: “For Sherwood, unite. For Sherwood, we fight!” It was enough to drive anyone mad.
“But don't worry,” the tech added. “We'll crack it. And if she's anywhere in the system, we'll have her pegged. Once and for all, we'll know who this hoodlum Robyn really is. And how to bring her down.”
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Necessary Mischief
One Week Later
Robyn listened for guards as she, Laurel, and Key raced away from the supply depot on the Cannonway hefting two burlap sacks each, full of the last of their night's haul. Robyn set down her own sacks long enough to grab her TexTer and pull the pad of green sticky notes out of her back pocket.
We're clear, she told Scarlet, and the InstaScan doors eased shut as if nothing had happened. One glance down the alley told her Tucker and Merryan's distraction must be working. The two were out of sight around the corner, but so were the depot guards. Robyn could hear Merryan's pitiful wailing as she lay in the street pretending to have sprained her ankle. Not only could the girl talk your ear off, she could raise a ruckus like nothing Robyn had ever heard.
She grinned. Teamwork. It definitely had potential.
Robyn peeled off the top sticky note, with her prewritten message. She turned around and smacked the bright-green page in the middle of the glass. Right where they wouldn't miss it.
But the note didn't feel complete, somehow. Robyn hesitated, shifting the other heavy sack of apples in her hand, even though Key and Laurel were long gone and running. Robyn pulled the marker from her pocket, spun back, and tacked on one final word after her signature. There, that looked better.
Governor Crown and Sheriff Mallet and all the MPs knew who they were dealing with now. And it served them right. They had destroyed her family, threatened her friends, chased her, and labeled her. They had made her.
Robyn smiled with satisfaction. She wasn't afraid any more. Her parents' pendant rested secure against her chest, as secure as their memory rested within her heart.
But it isn't over
, she promised them.
We'll see each other again.
Standing here, she could feel their blood pumping in her veins.
Offspring of Shadows, daughter of Light
. With the moon's mixed blessing upon her, Robyn was becoming everything she was supposed to be. She patted the sticky note in place for good measure, hefted the apple bags over her shoulder, then turned and ran after her friends.
To whom it may concern
:
You didn't really need so many bushels of fruit, did you? They were just lying around, so I have returned them to the hungry people of Sherwood.
With best wishes,
Robyn Hoodlum
Many people helped in the process of taking this story from idea to reality. Thanks as always to my family for their constant support. My writers' groups pored over many a draft and version of this concept, and I'm grateful for their input. I'm sure they're as happy as I am to see Robyn finally making her way into the world: Josanne, Laurie, Wiley, Kitsy, Susan, Holly, Diana, and Vicki. Many friends took me in during the writing process and/or lent ideas to the story that still survive: special thanks to Kerry, Sarah, Kristina, Kiara, Zu, Allison, Grace, Eric, Shawn, Jane, Nicole, and Peter. Thanks to my colleagues at Vermont College of Fine Arts and my agent, Michelle Humphrey, for creating new opportunities for me. Most of all, thanks to my editor, Mary Kate Castellani, and everyone at Bloomsbury who has worked hard to transform my manuscript into a book!
Copyright © 2015 by Kekla Magoon
Map copyright © 2015 by Andrea Tsurumi
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
First published in the United States of America in August 2015
by Bloomsbury Children's Books
E-book edition published in August 2015
www.bloomsbury.com
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