Page 47 of Shackled By Shadows

Chapter nineteen

Let’s Begin

Bang, bang, bang.

“Lyra, get up, sleepyhead!” Ash’s voice rings through the door.

I groan, cracking my eyes open, still groggy with sleep.

Bang. Bang.

“Come on, we’ve got places to be, people to see, shit to do,” Ash calls again.

I yawn, stretching lazily. “Okay, okay, I’m getting up.” It takes me a moment to fully wake, but when I do, the weight of today settles over me.

Shit to do suddenly has a very real meaning: the rebellion meeting.

I want to be excited, to feel the rush of purpose to finally be playing my part in fixing this world. Instead, nerves twist painfully in my stomach.

I’m not sure why. Maybe it is the crowd, the possibility of not being accepted. Or maybe it is the sheer concentration of powerful people gathering in one place, a force too strong to predict or control. Whatever it is, it sends a whisper of unease curling through my chest.

Shaking it off, I hastily throw on my clothes and storm out the door.

Ash is still standing there in the hallway, arms crossed, smirking.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than stand outside my door like some kind of guard dog?” I mutter, brushing past him.

Ash lets out a roaring laugh. “Oh, how the tides have turned, Lyra. Here you were thinking you were the pet, but apparently, it was me all along.” His grin deepens. “Does that make you my master now?”

I roll my eyes, refusing to dignify that with a response. Instead, I start down the hallway. “Where are we going today, anyway?” I ask over my shoulder.

Ash hesitates for a beat, like he is deciding whether to tell me or let it be a surprise. “Wraithmoor,” he finally says. Then, with a glance at me, he adds, “It’s the rebellion’s main stronghold. We gather there once a month to strategize and pool information.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What is up with the creepy town names?”

Ash smirks. “Keeps the tourists away.”

I snort. “Yeah, no kidding. Between Umberfall, Wraithmoor, and whatever other ominous-sounding places you lot frequent, I’m starting to think you want people to believe you're some kind of cult.”

Ash presses a hand to his chest, mockingly wounded. “A cult? Lyra, please. We prefer the term exclusive revolutionary society—it sounds more refined.”

“Uh-huh,” I say dryly. “How far is this exclusive revolutionary society’s secret lair, anyway?”

Ash doesn’t answer. His smile only darkens, and my stomach drops.

We left the village the same way we entered, veering away from the river he took me to yesterday and back into the forest where the abyss spat us out.

The deeper we go, the quieter it becomes, the hum of village life fading into the rustling of leaves and the distant call of some unseen creature.

I know what is coming.

“We aren’t—” The words fall flat as Ash’s mischievous grin widens, telling me everything I need to know. “If this was the plan all along, why did you make me walk all the way here?” I demand, more than a little irritated.

“It draws too much attention,” he answers casually, like dragging me through a nightmare vortex is the most normal thing in the world.

“No.” I plant my feet firmly. “Nope. Absolutely not.”

“You’re going to have to get used to it.” Ash makes a dismissive gesture.