Page 53 of Shadow's Claim

When my vision clears, I find we're standing in an alley between two massive buildings. The architecture is distinctive—smooth black surfaces that absorb light rather than reflecting it, windows positioned to maximize shadow rather than illumination. We're in the academic district, much closer to the Umbral Academy than I expected.

"How far did we—" I begin, then stop as wave of dizziness crashes over me. My knees buckle, and only Kael's firm grip keeps me upright.

"The shadow transit requires significant energy," he explains, his four arms arranging to support me more effectively. "Especially for non-shadow demons."

"You could have mentioned that," I mutter, leaning against his solid form as another wave of exhaustion hits me.

His rumbling chuckle vibrates through his chest. "Would it have changed your decision?"

"No," I admit, glancing behind us where shadows still dance with unusual activity—aftereffects of our impossible transit. "But I might have prepared better."

"There is no preparation for first shadow travel," he says, multiple arms working to create a cloak of darkness around us both. "We must move quickly. The energy signature of our transit will attract attention."

I straighten up with effort, focusing on steadying my breathing. The hybrid's consciousness pushes against my mind with determined energy, somehow helping me clear the disorientation faster than I expected.

"The Academy is three blocks north," I say, orienting myself. "We'll need to cross the main thoroughfare."

Kael nods, already guiding us deeper into the alley's shadows. "Night curfew works to our advantage. Few witnesses."

We move carefully through narrow passages between buildings, staying within densest shadows whenever possible. The Umbral Academy's distinctive silhouette grows closer—its central dome rising above surrounding structures, the specialized research wings extending from the main building like dark tentacles.

The main thoroughfare presents our greatest challenge. Unlike the abandoned alleys, the street features constant shadow demon patrols, their glowing eyes scanning regularly for curfew violations. Humans caught outside after nightfall face severe punishment, especially in the academic district where security remains particularly tight after previous resistance infiltrations.

"Wait," Kael whispers, his massive form melting into shadows beside a service entrance. "Patrol approaching."

I press myself against the cool stone wall, watching as three shadow guards move down the street with methodical precision. Their four arms manipulate darkness around them, creating sensory extensions that probe every doorway and alcove. If we attempt to cross now, they'll detect us instantly.

"Can we use shadow transit again?" I ask, voice barely audible.

Kael's glowing eyes dim slightly, his equivalent of a frown. "Not so soon after the first. Your human physiology requires recovery time."

As if to confirm his assessment, my legs tremble with lingering weakness, and the shadow patterns beneath my skin pulse with dull rather than vibrant energy. The hybrid shifts restlessly, its consciousness projecting emotions that feel like frustration and determination in equal measure.

"Then we wait," I say, settling deeper into our hiding place.

But waiting carries its own risks. Each minute increases the chance that Constantin's team will regroup, that Obscura's forces will track our escape from Kael's domain, that shadow demon patrols will change patterns and discover us. Time works against us from every angle.

The patrol passes our position without incident, continuing down the thoroughfare with measured steps. Just when I think we might attempt crossing, another group emerges from a side street—not regular security but specialized shadow enforcers, their midnight-black forms distinguished by complex insignia that glow with purple energy.

"Obscura's elite guards," Kael whispers, his massive body tensing beside me. "They're searching for us specifically."

My heart hammers against my ribs as I watch them move with focused intent, their shadow senses extending much further than regular patrols. They're tracking something—following traces of our shadow transit perhaps, or responding to alerts from Kael's domain.

"We can't cross," I say, stating the obvious. "And we can't wait."

Kael's four arms move in complex patterns, manipulating shadows around us to deepen our concealment. "There's another way," he says after a moment of consideration. "Less direct, more dangerous, but potentially unmonitored."

"What do you mean?" I ask, even as the hybrid's consciousness pushes against my mind with sudden intensity, as though recognizing Kael's intent before I do.

"The underground maintenance tunnels," he explains, gesturing toward a service access point partially hidden beneath accumulated debris. "Remnants of pre-Conquest infrastructure, largely abandoned during reconstruction."

I stare at the rusted access hatch with growing unease. "Underground tunnels," I repeat, memories surfacing of resistance hideouts in similar locations. "Dark, enclosed spaces where shadow demons would have significant advantage."

"Yes," Kael agrees simply. "Which is precisely why Obscura's forces rarely patrol them. Shadow demons prefer to move through shadow paths rather than physical tunnels."

"Then why would we—" I begin, then understand. "Because they wouldn't expect it."

His glowing eyes flare with approval. "Precisely. Sometimes the most obvious route provides best concealment."

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