Page 15 of Sanctuary of the Shadow
I made the wrong choice!I want to go back!But it was too late to go back. She had no choice but to be consumed entirely by shadows as her mouth opened in a silent scream—
She sat bolt upright in bed.
Chest heaving, she stared around the inside of her dark caravan and had never been happier to find herself there. With shaking fingers, she snatched up the matchbox from beside the bed and lit the candle.Light.She needed light to remind herself she wasn’t in that inky void any longer.
What was the Water trying to tell her? Was it even the Water, or just an ordinary dream? It certainly didn’t feel ordinary. It felt…loaded, somehow. Full of meaning she couldn’t decipher.
She had been sure in the dream she’d made the wrong decision. If so, what were the consequences? And if it was wrong, why had she been drawn to the darkness in the first place?
First, she’d seen flashes of her lost memories. And now this. There had to be a connection.
Though she hadn’t remembered anything from the night of her clan’s deaths until recently, such a traumatic event couldn’t help but shape a person forever, no matter how much love and care they received afterward. And Harrow had been cared for—by Malaikah and even by Salizar, who had taken her into his circus without question, feeding and sheltering her before she’d been able to work to pay for her keep.
And now? She’d thought she was all right. She slept soundly through the night, free from troubling dreams. Well, she had…until tonight.
Throwing off the covers, Harrow grabbed a silk robe from the wardrobe to put over her nightgown and then folded a patterned scarf into a band and tied it over her ears. A walk would help her regain calm.
Shutting the caravan door behind her, she crept down the steps on bare feet, through her fortune teller’s booth and out into the open. The moon was glowing brightly, at the phase in her cycle when she looked as though she’d been cut in half. What remained of her naked face cast the rounded sides of the caravans in a bluish glow.
Allegra’s fairgrounds had room enough to fit all their wagons and tents, yet they were still only steps away from the chaotic central market. Silhouettes of dark buildings surrounded them. Tonight, it felt like being trapped.
Harrow headed toward Malaikah’s caravan. She would wake Mal up and tell her about the dream. Mal would listen and offer advice. It was always what they did for each other.
Except something made her stop abruptly.
On a whim, she turned toward the big top and started walking. Why? Because she had a feeling that was the way she needed to go.
She ended up around the side, standing outside Salizar’s tent, of all places. She’d never been inside the area where the ringmaster conducted most of the circus business. No one had, except Loren and the kitchen staff. Salizar’s private workspace was of little interest to her. She had everything she needed, and risking falling out of her boss’s favor wasn’t worth it.
But suddenly, she was fighting an urge to go in so strong she had to clench her hands into fists.
The tent was tied shut by little strings hanging down the edges of the entrance flaps. There was a lantern on the ground with a box of matches beside it. She would just light the lantern. That should satisfy her strange compulsion.
She struck the match, lit the lamp, and then stood, facing the canvas. Unfortunately, candlelight shining upon those neat little ties didn’t quell the urge to enter in the least. Yes, a Seer listened to her urges, but she also needed to have a good sense of self-preservation.
So what did Harrow think she was doing?
She would just undo the ties and peek in. That would satisfy her. She was probably just bored, seeking a little rush of uncertainty.
Her fingers worked the knots until, soon enough, the tent was open. Immediately, she knew peeking in wouldn’t be enough. She needed to go inside. What could it hurt, really? She’d go in just for a split second, look around, and then leave and forget this entire incident ever happened.
Before she consciously made the decision, her hand was lifting the canvas and her head was ducking as she stepped inside.
It wasn’t at all what she expected. There was no work desk or papers. From what little she could see in the dark, the tent was empty save for a large board leaning against one wall and what appeared to be an enormous cage. From its base on a four-wheeled cart, thick steel bars ran vertically upward, nearly as tall as the ceiling.
Dear Goddess, a man could fit comfortably inside that monstrosity. What was Salizar doing with it?
Cautiously, Harrow approached, holding the lamp out to see better.
A pair of eyes suddenly reflected the light from the darkness.
She lurched back, nearly tripping on her own feet. Swallowing the scream that stuck in her throat, she froze and waited for whatever monster lay within to attack.
It didn’t attack. It just watched her.
The eyes were impossibly bright, like two rings of fire burning. A sudden urge struck Harrow from within.Go closer, it said.Investigate.She obeyed.
As she stepped forward, without warning, several lamps flared to life around her. The lanterns stationed throughout the tent seemed to have spontaneously lit themselves.
