Wraith(14)

Whatever reason the goblins had for preserving for Stirling Castle, it stood over all of us as a permanent backdrop to our lives. Those walls, turrets and towers saw everything. Sometimes I was almost jealous.

My shadow self had ventured inside, especially during the early days of the siege when we were all sure it would be finished by Easter but the Filits were too damned cautious. They had a nasty habit of regularly scanning the castle and its environs for beasties – wraiths included. On two occasions I’d almost been caught.

A while back the Filits put a bound shadow on display at Mercat Cross after its owner had attempted to assassinate one of the cannier goblin lords. It took a full day for the wraith to writhe and silently scream its way to death; at that point I promised that I wouldn’t step inside that dratted castle ever again.

I finished the dregs of my dandelion coffee. Promises, much like rules, were made to be broken. I knew that I could still walk away if I wanted to; women like Ange and kids like Becky were two a penny. Very few people would miss Ange. The only way I could guarantee my own safety would be to tell Becky that I’d tried my best but I couldn’t find her mother. She’d be sad for a while but she’d get over it. Eventually.

Standing up, I went into my small bathroom and turned on the tap. A few drips of water splashed miserably into the sink while the pipes clanked and complained. I sighed. If the water would didn’t come on again soon, I’d have to make another trip to the river. I was fast running out of supplies. Still, I thought, as I cupped water in my hands from an old jerry can and splashed it over my face, if I died saving Ange Horrocks I wouldn’t have to worry about rations or water or anything like that ever again. What a cheery thought.

Even if I hadn’t had Becky’s pleading, tear-stained face at the forefront of my mind, I’d have felt compelled to do my best for Ange. When we let the Filits arrest whoever they wanted for whatever made-up reason they wanted, we’d have given up. In that scenario the only alternative left to us was to lie down and die. I gave a wry smile. My life wasn’t worth much these days anyway. The sad truth was that no one’s life in Stirling was.

The only way I could leave the castle alive and with my shadow intact would be to avoid the areas where large groups of people congregated. The hallways and corridors of the buildings on the outer fringes would be safer, although the Dark Elf would probably be staying in the King’s Old Building in the Inner Close. In the days before the siege, important guests and visitors were given rooms there. As long as I didn’t venture too deeply inside the Inner Close, I had a chance of lurking in the shadows and finding out the information that Marrock needed.

I patted my face dry and gazed into the bathroom mirror. I looked gaunt and sickly, my freckles standing out in sharp relief against my skin. My short hair and green eyes didn’t help. I looked less like a living, breathing woman than an androgynous robot whose maker had run out of materials to finish the job properly.

I tightened my lips. Given that I might well not be coming back, I should probably break into my own emergency supplies. At least a decent-ish meal might set me up for what was to come.

***

I didn’t feel exactly nourished when I detached my shadow and set out from home but my energy levels had been buoyed by the instant noodles and dry crackers. I’d even allowed myself a couple of squares of chocolate that I’d kept hidden for months. The black market hadn’t provided proper chocolate at any price for ages, although word was that the goblins were swimming in it. I left myself just enough to savour when I got back – if this little venture wasn’t my swansong.

I used the growing dusk to mask my shape, but even so I took a slight detour and went via Mercat Cross again, double-checking that the line of nooses remained empty. I was surprised at the relief I felt when I saw that Ange’s body wasn’t swinging in the gentle breeze.

My plan was to nip back down the same street where Kanji and the other clubs lay but suddenly a suited and booted group of goblins came marching down from that direction. While my physical body drew in a sharp breath, my shadow body darted into the furthest corner to hide.

The goblins moved towards the hanging ropes in a tight group. They weren’t dragging any unfortunate prisoners with them. I watched them, feeling sick to my stomach. The only reason I could think of that they’d tamper with their execution site was to prepare for a large-scale hanging. The largest number who had ever swung at one time was twelve, which was why there were now twelve empty nooses waiting to be filled. The goblins had left them there as a stark reminder. You could avoid viewing the executions – attendance wasn’t mandatory – but the bodies stayed up for at least a week. That way no one missed seeing what would happen if you did something that displeased the goblins.

I hunkered down and wrapped my arms round myself. If any of the goblins glanced in this direction, they wouldn’t see me. The other shadows and the darkening night sky kept me well concealed. Remaining motionless, I watched while the goblins separated, one by one, before climbing onto the scaffold. When they started undoing the knots and releasing the nooses, I almost staggered. Each rope spiralled down, landing with a heavy thump onto the cobbles below. What the bejesus were they up to this time?

The goblins clambered down, huffing and puffing as if it were a great effort, then coiled up each rope to make it easy to carry. One of them, whose shoulder pips signalled that he was a higher rank, stepped back and eyed the scaffold with a critical expression. ‘Auction block,’ he grunted. ‘That’s what it can be used for now. Taking all of the rest of this down will take too long.’