AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Taking short, quick looks to make sure eyes were averted, she moved swiftly behind the next obstruction. There was so much movement, few would notice her if she didn’t draw attention, but she hugged her cloak regardless. Luckily, Ladrien had foregone any kind of uniform in the place of rough armour—leather, wood, the occasional bit of metal. As long as her black cloak hid her palace uniform and her human features, most would assume she was one of them.
Most.
She ducked into an alcove behind a cart being loaded by a couple of trolls, and glanced down at where the explosives were. There was a limit as to what she could carry, and a specific number they would need. Dillon had recommended taking several trips. Juliana wasn’t sure how much to press her luck.
She did a quick calculation of how far away the explosives were from the ledge hanging over them, did a cursory glance to make sure no one was watching, then locked her legs around one of the poles, dipped down and swiped a projectile from the top of the cart.
Seconds. It took seconds.
Spurred by her success, Juliana concealed her prize beneath her cloak and started back up the path, the force of gravity making the return trip much longer, making her calves and lungs burn. In and out of the crowds she wove, past armoured ogres and saddled barghests.
I am a shadow. I am without form.
She reached the top of the quarry and slid back to Dillon’s side, panting hard. “You got it,” he said, taking it from her.
“One down, three to go.”
Dillon hesitated, his face stony as he appraised the explosive. “I can’t cover you while I position this.”
Juliana waved it away. “I’ll be fine.”
She took a few minutes to gather her breath, and slid back down into the quarry, her heart lurching when she realised that the cart carrying the explosives had been moved away… further into the quarry. Juliana was skilled, but she didn’t fancy her chances getting all the way into the centre of the pit and out again without anyone noticing… at least not looking like this.
A proper disguise. She needed one.
She scanned around, noticing that parts of the quarry had been hollowed out, fashioned into tunnels. Clearly, this army had been here for a long time. They’d had barracks and stores—somewhere where clothing and armour was kept.
Was she really going to walk inside?
She didn’t see what choice she had, but as an added precaution, she picked up some of the red dust littering the floor and smeared her features with it, obscuring her face.
She dipped inside the first tunnel.
It was poorly lit. Of course it was—Unseelie eyes were far sharper than hers. She stumbled on in the dark until she came across a torch, and used it to wind further down the passageway. She passed a mess hall and a kitchen, squirming with the noise of banging pots and the smell of roasting meat, mingling with the dark, earthy scent of the halls.
Eventually, she came to a crude dormitory, not much more than a dozen poorly-constructed cots and a few trunks for belongings. She set down the torch and began to rifle through the trunks, searching for anything her size. She found some black face paint which she used to further disguise her face, but any clothes she came across were far too big.
The banging of the pots echoed down the hall. Juliana had a sinking suspicion that dinner was not far off, that soon these halls would be packed with Unseelie warriors and her luck would permanently run out.
Finally, her fingers fell across some rough armour that worked just enough to hide her uniform, to allow her to move more freely without holding the cape around her all the time. She buckled it on and readjusted her weapons. There were no mirrors; she had to hope this did the trick.
She pulled her hair down over her ears, lifted up her hood, and dissolved back into shadows.
Mercifully, the explosives cart had yet to move. With her disguise adding to her confidence, Juliana slunk down to the lowest level, weaving through the crowds towards her target. Could she honestly just lift them out of there and back again? Wouldn’t that look suspicious?
She approached the front of the cart. No one was yet sitting in the seat behind the giant toad. She offered it an affectionate pat out of habit, eyes still on the prize.
“You, louse, what are you doing?” barked a cold, hard voice.
Juliana stilled, blood turning cold. She knew that voice. She’d heard it speak only once before, but she knew it, in the way one remembered the feel of a blade that stabbed them.
She turned carefully, keeping her face down, not daring to look up.
Ladrien towered over her, skin gleaming wetly in the faint light. His wings and horns shone like the thorns surrounding the quarry, the feathers of his black robes now replaced with fur.
For some reason, her father’s words came back to her—the echo of some old storyteller.
He never liked the cold.
