Page 39 of In Between Darkness
‘The child, bitten by a serpent, is thought to have enough venom to kill two grown men running through his veins. Healers are working on him as we write this, though it is unlikely he will make a full recovery.’
My body goes cold while reading this. I scan the rest of the page, then flick through the rest of the pages. There are more; more names and more convicted parents brutally murdering their children. I didn’t think Sunkind were capable of such evil. I put the pages down and shut them in the drawer, encasing the sickness inside. Do I even want to know what’s in the other one?
My curiosity gets the better of me. I slide open the stiff drawer slowly, not wanting to peek over its edge. I hastily glance over its wooden wall and stare inside, bracing for the contents to scar my mind, but it isn’t what I was expecting. A dark wooden box is the only thing in this drawer. It has metal straps drapedover the top of it, almost in a medieval-type design. I pick up the box and blow the dust off it. It’s heavier than it looks. Studying the box, I see more carvings littered on its outside around the rim of the bottom half of it. I look back at the desk and mentally align the carvings; they’re the same. An enlarged sun, moon and stars surround the box, repeating themselves the whole way round. It looks like aged oak, the same that is used all around the castle. This could be hundreds of years old. There is a clasp on the front of the box. It’s not locked, but the mechanism does have to be twisted in order for the clasp to be released. It is star-shaped, and I pinch my fingers around its points and twist it in a clockwise direction until the star’s points line up with the gaps in the metal. I lift the clasp over the mechanism and lift the lid. A thick black hardback book resides inside. How mysterious. Why does a book need such armour? I delicately pick it up, its cover is almost velvety; I trace my fingers over its title: ‘The Soldark’.Why does that name feel familiar to me?
“Slow down, Ty, the archives aren’t going anywhere,” I hear a voice chuckle in the distance. Shit, that’s River. I can’t explain myself being down here alone.
“You know me and my char root,” Ty explains, a symphony of laughter echoing around the archives.
I hear the click of the door and know they are coming this way. Startled, my instincts take over, and I slam the drawer and run to the only place I know they wouldn’t dare to go: The door that leads to the Moon Castle.
I crouch down behind the door and let out a quiet exhale as they enter the office. That was a close one. I turn my head towards the muffled voices. There is a small crack in the door, and I can just about see River and Ty lounging on the burgundy sofa. Ty has the rolled up char root pursed between his lips, he struggles with his lighter, flicking it a few times before it sparks and abright flame burns at the end of the rolling paper; he breathes in deep and sinks his back into the sofa, taking a few pulls before passing it to River. The faint smell of burning char root wafts into my nostrils. How long are they gonna be here? I lean my back against the cold wall of this lengthy corridor and a chill runs down my spine. It feels as though it is made up entirely of darkness; the only thing breaking up the shadows are the needles of light sneaking through the cracks in the door. I sit for a moment, trying not to breathe too loudly and turn my head away from the door, staring into the darkness. I think about the distance from Campus A to Campus B; where the sweet cherry trees meet the thick and twisted pine woods, and the combat platform where I first saw Ryder, and then their courtyard. It must be at least a fifteen-minute walk through this tunnel of darkness to get to Moon Castle. I gulp at the thought of this. In the distance, I can hear the faint tapping of water dripping from the ceiling and onto the hard brick floors. The air feels damp and cold, each brick like an ice cube that refuses to melt.
I begin to shiver as the cold vibrates through me and my teeth start to chatter. I can’t stay here, the sound of my teeth clanking will surely expose me, and my brain is tormenting me with thoughts about sneezing or coughing and alerting them to my presence. I’ve got to keep moving. I stand up and tread carefully into the unknown, the darkness swallowing me up. I can no longer see the needles of light creeping through the door or even my own hand in front of my face. The deathly silence is interrupted only by the shuffle of my footsteps leading me further into the shadows. What am I doing walking into the abyss? It is still dark outside, so the Moons will definitely be awake. I need to go back. My brain tries to reason with my legs, but they ignore her, my feet dragging us closer and closer to Moon Castle. Time is disoriented here. I can’t work out whether I have been walking for ten minutes or ten hours. I can feel thewalls of the corridor on either side of me now. It wasn’t this narrow at the start of my journey. I could spread my arms out level with my shoulders and only just about reach both sides before, now I can only lift my arms out a few inches before they are met by the cold brick. The narrow walls squeeze me in, and the brick path continues. If a group came down here, they would most definitely have to walk in single file. I carry on ahead. Until I can see the glow of a thin rectangle shape outlined in the shadows ahead.
Chapter Fourteen
I pause in my tracks and debate turning back, looking over my shoulder into the black abyss as a breeze whispers at my neck. No, I can’t turn back. I’ve come this far already. I slowly edge towards the door, dragging each reluctant foot in front of the other until I can smell the oak radiating off the wooden door. Muffled voices vibrate through it, making me rethink my earlier decision to wander this far. Despite my hesitation, I place my ear against the rough wood to try to decipher the voices.
I know that voice. Just the tone of it triggers butterflies to run riot in my stomach. I hold them back, metaphorically clipping their wings. The voices are clearer now. I hold my breath as if breathing would smudge the clarity of the words.
Ryder’s voice projects loudly. “Three more Moons have gone missing this month.”
A series of gasps fill his pause. “Same as the last, here one moment, gone the next.”
Quiet chatter hums around the room. I can’t see how many people there are, but judging by the ambient noise, I imagine around twelve.
“How many more of us is it going to take before they actually do something about it?” a male voice counters.
“I know it’s frustrating, which is why we have to be vigilant.”
The chatter around the room quietens as Ryder’s voice cuts in, louder. “The school isn’t taking this seriously. They expect us to believe that students are just dropping out… but Tommy islike a brother to me, and I know he wouldn’t have just left.” I can hear the concern in his tone.
Moons are going missing? This is the first time I have heard of this.
“Why are no Suns going missing? They obviously have something to do with this!” an angry man shouts out into the crowd, and unrest erupts around the room.
“It’s statements like that that will get you killed,” Ryder raises his voice and silence envelopes the room. “We will find out what’s going on, but until then, keep thoughts like that to yourself.”
“He’s right. We need to keep a low profile. We don’t want to give ourselves a reason to go missing like the others,” another says, backing Ryder up.
“Whatcanwe do then?” a strong female voice questions.
“We can train like we’ve never trained before, and I will be leading search parties throughout the week to look for Tommy and the others.”
I press my ear against the wooden door to hone in on their conversation.
“It’s not just here. Moon students have been disappearing all over Palidonia. One went missing from Briverna last week,” a female voice adds to the chatter.
Briverna… that’s only a stone’s throw away from my village. I think about my dad and begin to worry. I hope he doesn’t get tangled up in this.
“As many of you know, my father leads the Xoro Army; they have been investigating this. His view is that whoever is doing this could have help from someone on the inside, so be careful who you trust.”
A series of gasps echo around the room, and I can imagine them all analysing each other’s intentions.
“Does your father have any leads?” The room falls silent, hanging on Ryder’s reply.
“My father and I have a complicated relationship. We don’t talk much, but he tells me what’s important. I’m sure he’ll tell me when he does.”
