Shadowcry - By Jenna Burtenshaw Page 0,2
Rattling sounds were coming from the kitchen, and the smell of hot porridge crept under her bedroom door. She slid her feet into her slippers and shuffled over to the mirror.
It was market day—the last market day before the Night of Souls—and the bookshop could expect to see a lot more customers than the handful that usually came through the door. The Night of Souls was Albion’s biggest celebration, when everyone dressed up and threw parties in the streets to honor their ancestors and remember the dead. Each year, Kate would defy her uncle and climb up onto the bookshop roof to hang colorful banners in memory of her parents, adding them to hundreds of others scattered around the town. Crates of fireworks had been arriving in the market square for weeks, ready to mark the stroke of midnight in four days’ time, when the spirits of the dead were said to walk the streets and speak to the living. Not that Kate really believed in any of that.
To most people the Night of Souls was all about dressing up, planning parties, and exchanging gifts. It was a time for drinking and feasting and celebrating. Raising a glass to the dead was just one old tradition hidden among the new. Far more important was the gift giving. Even the quietest shops were at their busiest that time of year, and the bookshop would have to open early to make the best of it.
Kate tied her black hair into a braid and glared at her reflection. Her eyes were wide and feline, her nose was small, and her skin was pale, thanks to the long hours she spent in the shop. Artemis insisted she looked like her mother. Kate thought she looked more like a skinny cat. Her hand went to her throat, where a small pendant hung on a silver chain: a delicate circle of precious metal holding an oval gemstone that matched perfectly the vivid blue brightness of her eyes. Her mother had worn that necklace every day and, apart from the bookshop, it was all she had left of her.
Kate closed her tired eyes against the tears that were already starting to gather there. It had been ten years, but the Night of Souls always made the bad memories come creeping back. She let them settle in her mind for a few moments and polished the surface of the stone with her thumb, making it shine a little brighter than before.
“Kate?” Artemis’s voice carried down the corridor again.
“I’m coming.”
“Get dressed. Quick as you can.”
Kate turned away from the mirror, letting the stone fall back against her skin. Then she dragged on her clothes, fought her boots out of the mess lurking under her bed, and shuffled sleepily down the corridor to the kitchen, letting her nose lead the way.
“I’ve heard something new,” said Artemis, pouring her a cup of hot milk from a steaming pan. His brow was tense; an open letter lay upon the table, bearing a black wax seal that Kate had seen many times before.
She dropped onto her chair and tried to wake up.
“As you know, the wardens haven’t taken anyone from the northern counties for some time,” said Artemis. “I contacted a few friends in the south and it turns out things have been just as quiet all over Albion.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” asked Kate, resigning herself to yet another early morning warden conversation.
“I’m not sure. The last I heard, Continental soldiers had tried to land boats on the southern coast and Albion soldiers burned every one of them with fire arrows before they even reached the shore. The war could be going well for once. Or the wardens might just have new orders.”
“I don’t suppose they’ll leave people alone for very long,” said Kate, eating as she talked. “What else did your friends say?”
“They told us to be careful, “said Artemis. “Without a pattern to follow, no one knows where the wardens are likely to go next. Morvane is doing well. We have more people here than any of the smaller towns nearby. In the High Council’s eyes we could afford to lose a few hundred to the war effort. A harvest here could well be overdue.”
“You think they’re coming back,” said Kate, her face serious.
“I think we need to be prepared.” Artemis pushed his bowl aside and stood up. “We won’t be opening the shop today,” he said. “I’ve sent a note to Edgar telling him not to bother coming in to