The Shadow: The Poisonwood Shadows Book One

by Christina Crook

  Chapter Thirteen

  During the days that followed, a terrible sickness set in. William was mainly confined to bed. He lingered somewhere between sleep and awake, in a near constant state of feverish hallucination. Sometimes he slept, sometimes he lay awake shivering and sometimes he attempted to get up with a blanket secured around his shoulders, to walk around the room or sit in the armchair and read. The sickness felt eternal. His other life seemed so far away, and somewhere beyond the mist of delirium, William couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever be back there.

  Sometimes he felt Scarlett watching over him as he slept. She did her best to take care of him, even reading to him in the evening’s when he was alert. Her manner was never anything more or less than courteous and well intentioned. Of course, William's take on the goings on around him was influenced by his fever. He was often disoriented, stuck in waking dreams and unsure of what was real and what wasn’t.

  “I hope you don’t think less of me,” he whispered one evening, his eyes closed as he drifted off to sleep.

  “I couldn’t.”

  William felt at peace as she leaned over and gently ran her hand through his hair, briefly resting it on his neck.

  “Thank you,” he said, so quiet that the words were barely said at all.

  William drifted off into the best sleep he had experienced in very a long time. The next morning he woke feeling as if the fever had finally broke. His head felt lighter than it had in days and the pain which he had felt throughout his body was almost gone. The cuts were healing up and William was slowly beginning to feel like himself again.

  After breakfast he slowly dressed himself and made his way out onto the balcony for some air. The thought of standing atop the city, looking out over the skyscrapers and the skyline caused a stir of excitement in his stomach. William wasn’t sure how much time had passed while he had been caught in the grip of the fever. Was it days or weeks? Time had seemed none existent for a while. In fact, many things had disappeared out of his mind during the days he had spent delirious and bed bound.

  Of course they all came flooding back now. Did the Shadow Army know that he had escaped from Silverwall? Did they even know that the Poisonwoods were being kept prisoner? William leaned his head back against the cold brick wall.

  ‘I have a lot ahead of me,’ he thought.

  *

  When Scarlett returned later that day, she was shaken and distracted. “Hi,” she greeted him quietly, before busying herself with a pile of blankets.

  Unsure if he should talk to her, William loitered by the door. “Are you okay?” He asked finally, chewing on his lower lip.

  “Yes. It’s just…Winifred took a fall today and now I’m a bit worried about her,” Scarlett responded placidly, keeping her eyes on the bed.

  “Is she hurt?”

  “She was a bit bruised, but she seemed alright. She’s unsteady on her feet, but still tries to help out around the house and she shouldn’t.” Scarlett shook her head. “I just put her in bed and made sure she had everything she needed. I’m going to sleep down there tonight.”

  “Can I do anything?” William asked sympathetically, having no real idea what he could do or say to make her feel better.

  “No. Thank you though.”

  “Okay. I’ll leave you then,” he said at last. As William turned to go back to his own room, a thought occurred to him. “You know, I feel much better now. Perhaps I should leave tonight?”

  Scarlett stood to look at him, her expression pensive. “Tonight?” She ran a hand through her hair, trying to pull out and untangle the knots.

  “I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be taking up your time like this. You’ve got family to take care of.”

  “Well, I think you’re still sick. It’s not a good idea.”

  “I feel okay. Like I said, I’ve been much better today.”

  “If that’s what you want.” Scarlett sat back down and focused her attentions on the bedcovers, absentmindedly pulling at a loose thread.

  It wasn’t what he wanted. Truthfully, William didn’t think he would make it up onto the roof, but the last thing he wanted was to continue to be an extra burden for Scarlett. He crossed his arms tightly around his chest. “You’ve already done too much for me,” he told her.

  She smiled a tight, sardonic kind of smile. “You’re not in the way, Will. You can barely walk.” She watched him with piercing eyes. Somehow he had made her angry.

  “Shall I stay then?” William asked, in a quiet, low voice, doing his best to hide his confusion.

  “I want you to stay until you’re well enough to leave.” She paused and looked at him. “I like having you here to come back to after a bad day. Please stay. Until you’re ready.”

  “Okay,” he said with a small nod.

  Scarlett watched him, her troubled expression crossed with something undefined that only increased his desire to remain. Standing again, she concentrated on the blankets once more. Eventually, she turned to him, caught up again in her whirlwind of activity. “I’ll bring up some food for you, but then I’m going back down to Winifred.”

  “Scarlett.” William grabbed her arm. “Just…stop for a second. You never stop. Come on.”

  “I can’t stop, Will,” she responded shrilly.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’ll cry, that’s why. I have to keep busy.”

  Still, she stopped, pausing hopelessly to look down at the bed. She sat back down, dropping her head heavily in hands.

  “I’m just so tired,” he heard her say, her voice muffled.

  He waited for a moment, his head full of empathy, wishing he could do anything to make things better. Though everything warned him against it, William sat down next to Scarlett, put his arm around her and drew in closer. It felt nice to comfort a person. The years spent being a Shadow had thrown up an emotional barrier. He had forgotten what nearness felt like, just as he forgot all about the vows he had made for a moment. He held her as she attempted to overcome the urge to cry, listening to the tick of the clock and creaks and slams coming from the floors beneath them. She seemed so soft and fragile. He wanted to hold her tighter. After a while, she pulled back and looked at him.

  “You’re not supposed to do that,” she said shakily.

  William fought for a response, but he had none. Instead he shrugged, staring down at the worn carpet. Noticing that his bloodstain was still there, he said, “I’ll clean that up for you.”

  As pathetic as it sounded coming out of his mouth, he still managed to raise a faint smile from Scarlett. “Don’t go yet,” she finally said, wiping her eyes. “I just…I feel like you should stay. You know?” He noticed as she briefly glanced down at his lips, before she looked away and stood.

  William swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay. I’ll stay. Until I’m well.”

  Scarlett folded her arms and smiled. He noticed the curve of her hips and waist beneath the black dress she wore, then clenched his fists tight, insisting he snap out of it.

  After dinner, William lay back on his bed and watched as dust motes floated by, caught up in the evening sunbeams. He knew that he had taken it too far. He would be leaving soon. Back to the Academy, back to the streets, back to the darkness. This wasn’t his life. This was a sickness and nothing more. It would pass and then normality would resume. Shadows didn’t feel anything. Shadows were never there to begin with.

  *

  The next day was spent performing chores, running errands and fussing over Winifred. Scarlett slipped upstairs at lunchtime with food for William. He was reading in the chair once again, though something seemed different. When they spoke, his tone was painfully civil, as if he were talking to a distant acquaintance whom he rarely saw. It would be pointless to bother attempting a real conversation.

  In a way, this made things easier. Scarlett knew he had big things to worry about. Immense problems. William had a whole life that had to come first; a life she wasn’t a part of. She wanted to be gracious a
nd kind, but knew that eventually, she would resent him. It wasn’t William himself that she would resent though, not really. It was more the fact that everything was a version of something else; a weaker, greyer version of how things were supposed to be. Reality could never be as exquisite as what she saw in her imagination, and Scarlett cursed herself for never having the courage to change things.

  Feeling uneasy, she went to check on Winifred again. The old lady was still in bed, though her eyes were open and she seemed alert.

  “Are you okay? Has Betty been taking care of you?”

  “Yes, I’m just fine,” Winifred nodded.

  “Do you need anything? Have you had lunch yet?”

  “I’m okay. I have my bell.” She patted the bell on the table beside her to show Scarlett.

  “Do you want to sleep then? I can close the curtains.”

  “Maybe later." She paused, watching her. "You’re sad, aren’t you, Letty?” Despite her weakened condition, Winifred could still recognise that something was bothering Scarlett.

  “No, Winnie. I'm okay, I promise. Don’t worry.”

  “I do bother, you know? I'm not there to look after you anymore,” she whispered. “You look so tired.”

  “I look after you now. I’m fine. I'm happy.” Scarlett shook her head, holding back tears.

  “It’ll all work out okay. I promise.”

  Somehow Winifred always knew.

  “I know, Winnie. I know.”

  Later that evening, with an ill feeling in her stomach, Scarlett slowly prepared a hearty dinner for William. She tensely knocked on his door, wondering if he would respond after the way he had acted earlier. To her surprise, the door flew open, a surprised expression on William’s face.

  “I brought you some dinner. Are you hungry?”

  William nodded, then stood back and held the door open for her. Scarlett set the tray down in the usual place, before heading back into her own room. Afterwards she collected his plates again with that same restrained politeness he had initiated earlier in the day. When she returned, Scarlett found him stood statically in the doorway to her room.

  “I was thinking…” he began, before trailing off. “I need to leave. I really do.” He kept his eyes on the worn out carpet and spoke in a quiet, but serious voice.

  “Are you well enough?” Scarlett asked, matching his clipped tone.

  “I slept well last night. And I’ve rested all day. I feel strong.”

  “Well, if you’re sure.”

  “I am. It’s best if I slip out while it’s dark.”

  “Okay then.” She picked up a small pile of clothes which sat on the dresser by her bed and handed it to William. “I sewed them up last night. They’re clean.”

  William took it hesitantly, a second later recognising the pile as the clothes he had been wearing when Scarlett found him passed out on the floor.

  “Oh. Thank you,” he said, taken aback, the wall down for the briefest of seconds.

  “So, you’re leaving now?”

  “I will do. I think it’s just about dark out.”

  “Okay.” She paused and smiled at him, unable to think of anything else to say. Suddenly he had rendered her shy and speechless again.

  William returned the smile and winked. “I’ll just change.”

  Scarlett nodded distractedly and watched as William shut himself up in the next room. Crossing her arms with a sigh, she sat down on the end of her bed and waited for William to re-emerge as his true self. When he appeared, now truly intimidating in his Shadow uniform, he was clutching the clothes she had bought for him, each item folded neatly on top of the other.

  “Um, what shall I do with these?” He asked awkwardly.

  “I’ll take them,” Scarlett said, standing again. She set the items down on the bed. “Are you ready then?”

  “I think so,” he whispered, finally meeting her eyes. “I’m really sorry for everything. For all of this.”

  “It’s okay,” Scarlett replied with a casual shrug. She sat back down on the edge of her bed and stared at the carpet. It was easier to pretend not to care.

  “Well. I’ll go then,” William said. “Thank you for all that you’ve done. I won’t forget it.”

  Finally she was able to look up at him. The lamplight of the room reflected in William's bright, sincere eyes and everything felt too raw and real. Scarlett gripped her arms with her hands, crossing them over her body in an automatic defence mechanism.

  “I can’t come back,” he whispered cautiously.

  “I know,” she replied, nodding. Of course he couldn’t come back and he knew that she knew that. Scarlett stood and looked out at the city. Distant lights shone and everything seemed far away. “Be careful out there,” she said, turning to look at William again.

  “I will be. You too.”

  With another nod, Scarlett opened the balcony door. Moving suddenly seemed difficult and she became very conscious of her limbs. She looked up to the roof, upon which he would shortly be ascending. Scarlett had what seemed like a thousand questions and things that she wanted to say in her head, but none of them made it out of her mouth.

  William looked all around, across to the buildings opposite and up at the darkened rooftops. With narrowed eyes, he took a step nearer to Scarlett. He was so close she could almost feel him, though he wasn’t quite close enough to touch. What she could feel was something else that emanated from him. Back inside her room there had been enough distance to keep her pushed away, but being this near only seemed to draw her closer and he didn’t step back. He leaned his head to hers, then closed his eyes and breathed in sharply. “What is it about you?” He murmured.

  Scarlett watched him for a moment. It was a long moment, both painful and repressive, before finally setting her gaze down to the ground. “Just go, Will,” she said quietly. She breathed in, catching the scent of lavender and rosemary in the air.

  He stepped back, beautiful and iridescent as the night sky. His pale skin cast a perfect contrast against the black fabric of his uniform. With one final doubtful look, William jumped nimbly from the balcony up onto the roof. In a split second he had disappeared into the night, just as he had done the last time, once again a part of that intricate network of darkness.

  Whatever it was, electricity or magnetism, something unseen and unexplained, there was nothing that Scarlett could do about it now. Instead it would stretch out across the city or wherever life happened to lead William. She would always feel this - a pull somewhere deep inside of her, a numbing pain that she would be able to crush down and ignore most of the time, but it would be there constantly. It was a fire that would catch her unawares at the most unexpected of moments and she would wonder where he was, what he was doing, who he was with. She would wonder if he ever thought about her, and if he did, would it be a fleeting thought, a passing daydream or would he think of her the way she thought of him? She saw the future inside of a few seconds and it looked heavy and heart sickening.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I’m sorry, Will. Truly. But we can’t allow the Army to rescue your family. We’re under the strictest of orders,” Captain Summers said.

  “That’s ridiculous,” William responded shortly.

  The Captain looked around uncomfortably. “It’s an order I have to follow. My hands are tied on this. You know I would go in if I could.”

  William shook his head in frustration. “This isn’t what the Shadow Army is about. Who gave you these orders? The Council? This is my family we’re talking about!”

  Captain Summers watched William as he paced the room impatiently. An impossibly tall man in his late thirties, the Captain had knowledge of both the city and the Outside that most of the other men could only dream of. He had joined the Shadow Army at sixteen, a year after his banker father had been tragically killed by a drunk on his way home from a late meeting. From there, he had effortlessly worked his way up through the ranks, dedicating his life to the safety of his city. With sandy blond hair, ice
blue eyes and a cool, quiet exterior that served to intimidate most of the people he came into contact with, there was certainly something striking about Gabryel Summers.

  He stroked his bristled chin and gave a long sigh. “These are your grandfather’s orders, Will.”

  William stopped suddenly and stared at the Captain, his brow furrowed in disgust. “What? Are you serious?”

  The Captain nodded and shrugged, his expression solemn. “There’s been communication between your grandfather and the Council. He stated explicitly that the Shadow Army was not to attempt a rescue under any circumstances. You know how stubborn Walter is. He’s trying to sort this out himself.”

  William had no words and stood dumbfounded for a moment. “I don’t know what to say, Gabe. Is he planning on staying there forever with my parents? Do you really expect me to leave her there?”

  “Negotiations are going on right now, but Silverwall aren’t happy you got out. The Council have it in hand. You know they won’t be there forever,” Captain Summers said gently.

  “They don’t have it in hand. You should know better than this by now. They won’t be doing a thing to resolve this, I promise you,” William told him brusquely.

  “We’re operating under the orders of our leader. What more can we do?” The Captain replied sharply.

  “Walter’s orders don’t mean a thing. I was there and Vale admitted he was blackmailing my grandfather.”

  “Who would admit to blackmail?”

  “Oh, he was very open about it. Whatever it is, it must be big if Walter would rather rot in prison than have the secret revealed to the city. But I don’t care about any of that. I need to rescue my parents and that’s exactly what I’m going to do, whether I have the Shadows or not. We’re meant to be more than this, Gabe. We’ve become shackled down by all of this political nonsense between the cities. We both know that Silverwall are playing dirty, but now they have taken it too far. They can’t stamp all over Poisonwood just because they think they have something on us.”

  Captain Summers scratched his head and sat down, still dubious.