Waking the Dark Read online

  We headed toward the West End, where the lower-class elves dwelled. Their homes were a stark contrast to ours. Even the lowest elf was worth more than any human.

  The air was thick with the scent of smoke from the factories, but something foreign assaulted my nostrils.

  A coppery scent that reminded me of one thing I hoped to never encounter again.

  The smell of death.

  I’d seen a dead body before, in a back alley. No one had paid the dead man any mind, stepping over him as they went about their day. Death was a common occurrence, but I’d never forget the peaceful look on his ashen face as ants crawled in and out of his mouth.

  I froze, holding a hand out to stop Moira as we came to a crowd of people and elves standing in the middle of the road.

  “What’s wrong?” Moira asked in a whisper. She held tight to my arm, her thin body pressed against mine as we tried to see what lay ahead.

  The silence was startling. The market was usually a place of chaos and activity, but whatever stood before us was enough to quiet everyone around.

  Stepping through the crowd, I had to see what the fuss was about. What brought humans and elves together in solemn quiet?

  When I saw it, my stomach dropped, and I froze. The chill that rose from my feet to the top of my head lingered and wouldn’t let go of its hold over me.

  Blood was spilled all over the uneven road ahead of us. So much that I almost didn’t believe my eyes. In the middle of the road lay two dead bodies, sprawled across the street, with black feathers scattered onto their corpses.

  Dead elves.

  I gasped. Someone was going to be punished for this, and by the looks of the feathers, I had an idea of who had done this.

  The Crows.

  “Did you see anything?” Moira asked, startling me. She’d come through the crowd as well, still covering her nose and mouth.

  I glanced at her. Her eyes were wide.

  Before I could come up with a reply, soldiers stormed the road, pushing past us as they ran into the West End.

  “Out of the way,” soldiers yelled, pushing through the crowd.

  Moira and I sidestepped the soldiers, too afraid to do anything more as they filled the streets.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I whispered to Moira, and she nodded. We slipped into the alley and headed back down to our end of the city. We’d just have to find food in the East End.

  Things were about to get worse. I just knew it.

  The entire human population would pay for the deaths of those elves.

  As we left the area, we kept to the alleys and avoided elves along the way. They’d blame anyone for the deaths of their kin, even when I suspected the Crows had a hand in it.

  Ford’s brother had run off when he was just a boy to join them after their father died. It was said that they stole from the rich elves and had a treasure trove somewhere in the city. For a moment, I chewed the inside of my lip, wondering if they allowed girls to join.

  I shook my head. I wasn’t a criminal.

  If I wanted a good job, I’d need to apply to one of the Great Houses of the High Elves. It was rumored that they were always in need of more laborers, and open to humans—especially pretty ones—a sure status symbol.

  The shock of the day kept us moving. There was no time to stop and marvel at the beautiful fountains with stone statues, or the tall, white-washed buildings with balconies that looked out toward the river that flowed through the kingdom and over the entire city.

  They thought they had a great view. I’d seen better from the top of the wall. It was just a shame that it almost cost me my life.

  Chapter Nine

  Our detour cost us dearly. We arrived right before the last horn blew, and I’d nearly forgotten it was time for our home to be examined.

  “Hurry,” Mother said, as she and Moira folded our blankets and stacked them onto the table.

  I set our basket of bread and minced liver on the table, and cleaned up my chalk drawings. We finished just as the door swung open. We each stood and moved out of the way of the elf soldiers, pressing our backs to the far wall, beside the hearth.

  Keeping quiet while the sun elves did their weekly rounds wasn’t the easiest task. Our little hovel shouldn’t have taken longer than a few minutes to rummage through, but they always seemed to take their sweet time.

  Still, we did our best.

  What other choice did we have?

  The pale, golden-haired creatures stepped into our flat, their swords drawn, and armor glinting in the candle light. We stood with our backs pressed to the wall, heads down as they trampled through.

  “Evening, Tess,” Sergeant Korun said to my mother, an insincere grin on his perfectly-proportioned face.

  It was always hard to tell the age of a sun elf, but I suspected he was much older than the lower-ranked soldier who accompanied him each night. I hated that he felt familiar enough with my mother to call her by her given name. There were nights when his eyes lingered on her bosom too long, or he’d give her a smack on her rear.

  I’d never met my father. He’d died when I was a baby, and my mother didn’t speak of him often. Neither did Moira. He worked in the mines and was rarely home since miners lived in the mines during the busy season.

  Despite never meeting him, I wished he was there, to tell the elves off and keep them from touching my mother.

  They went through our trunks and cupboards for any contraband; magic charms, runes, poisons. Anything that could be used in an uprising.

  I snuck a curious glance at Sergeant Korun. He was tall, and slim, like most sun elves, but his bright eyes turned to me and I was mystified. They were the same shade as my hair—silver with flecks of white. But, when they met mine, I let out a startled squeak, and tore my gaze away.

  “What was that, girl?” He asked, darting across the room.

  I whimpered as he caught me by the neck. Mother reached out.

  “Please,” she begged. “Don’t hurt her. She’s just a child.”

  Tears burned my eyes as he pressed his fingertips into my flesh.

  He sneered, canines lengthening as he sniffed my neck. A low chuckle came from his throat. “She’s hardly a child,” he said as he looked my frail body up and down.

  For once, I wished I hadn’t started developing. Though we were always on the brink of starvation, my body had begun transforming from that of a little girl, into that of a woman, hips filling out, and breasts swelling. He took a handful of my hair, letting the fine strands I’d grown to abhor slip between his long white fingers.

  He shot a look to my mother. “How old is she? Sixteen? Seventeen?”

  I gulped, eyes shooting to my mother’s in horror.

  She clenched a fist, but tears welled in her eyes as well.

  What would any of us do against two heavily armed sun elves with enough power in their veins to destroy us with minimal effort? They were powerful, but the night left them weak. Even so, a fight would be easily won by the soldiers before us, and so we knew to keep our wits about ourselves.

  “Not old enough for the attention of the likes of you,” mother said in a soft voice, and my eyes widened by her retort. I shot a frightened look to the elves, hoping we wouldn’t be punished for her speaking out.

  He huffed. “I’m sure,” he said, mocking her.

  He let me go and I gasped for air, rubbing the soreness of my neck, and backing up to stand beside Moira, who was weak on her feet.

  “All clear, Sergeant,” the other elf said.

  Korun grinned, smoothing my hair. “No worries. I’ll be waiting when you turn eighteen,” he said. “I’ll be sure to put my name on the list for the white-haired girl of East End. So don’t disappoint me by coupling up with one of those scrawny human lads, you hear?”

  He backed away, eyes locked with mine as I huddled with my mother and sister.

  “Night, ladies.”

  They left, but not before knocking over a basket of flour from the mills.


  “Dear spirits,” Mother said.

  As the sounds of the last curfew bells rang, we stood there in silence. The entire interaction had put me on edge, and left a sour taste in my mouth, and nausea in my gut.

  I’d be eighteen the next day.

  Old enough for marriage—old enough to be paired with a sun elf to breed out the human race.

  Once I closed the door and turned the lock, I spun around with a deep sigh, and pressed my back against it.

  There was little choice for what I'd have to do next. The sun elves already took our home, freedom, and hope from us—and it wasn't enough.

  They had our bodies. Now, they wanted our souls.

  It was up to me to make sure they didn’t get what they wanted.

  Not from me—not from anyone.

  Chapter Ten

  I left the cottage early the next day, dressed in my best frock, and with my hair braided into two braids that hung down my back.

  It was my birthday. I had to have a bit of luck on this special day, at least…that’s what I’d hoped.

  As I stepped off the front step and onto the stone street, I averted my eyes from the sun elf guard standing posted outside. They stared me down as I quickly scurried down the road and toward the tunnel that connected the lower end to the upper.

  Anxiety rose in my chest as I joined the masses of workers heading to their respective jobs. Before long, we were shoulder-to-shoulder, shuffling our way up the dark, and damp tunnel that smelled foul from discarded rubbish and stagnant water that collected in murky puddles.

  My bones still ached, but I ignored their groaning, and trudged up the slanted hill that led up to the upper end. Once I emerged from the darkness, the gray sky shed dim light onto them from the overcast sky.

  The hordes of humans went their own way, heading down the maze of roads and alleyways that made up the city.

  It was an intimidating place to be. The filth of our side of the kingdom was nonexistent here. Everything was clean, as if polished, and I knew why. The humans were the ones cleaning it, and our burrows went uncared for due to the curfews. Work, and home made up our routine; work cleaning up their mess.

  My sights were set straight ahead, to the great houses at the top of the hill.

  High Grove, home to the middle-class sun elves, and the half-breeds who’d been given allowances from their elvish fathers.

  By the time I reached the top, where a circular fountain stood in the center of the square, I lifted my gaze to the magnificent, stone houses that faced it. With balconies, and elaborate doors, and windows of pristine glass, they were the finest houses I'd ever seen. An elvish family sat on their balcony, around a circular table and drinking tea as a uniformed servant ladled food onto their plates. Bright eyes peered down at me, as if scolding me for intruding on their privacy.

  Quickly, I turned away.

  I'd been born in the slums where the cottages were lined up in rows, and that's where I'd live out my life. This small glimpse of beauty was enough to bring a look of wonder to my face.

  There was actually grass there. I wanted to touch it—smell it, feel it against my skin. We didn’t have grass in the East End. No trees. Just wood and stone.

  My heart raced with excitement as I bent down to smooth my palm across the soft blades laden with dew from the mists of early dawn. Brilliant. It was cool, and slippery, unlike what I’d imagined. Unlike the brown weeds we sometimes saw rise from between the cracks in the streets.

  If I could get a job in one of those houses, I could pretend that I was one of those fine ladies who lived within them.

  "Move along," a uniformed guard said, tapping me on the small of my back with his baton. I jumped, and quickened my step before he became angry.

  House Sparkes in High Grove had the opening, and so I walked toward its white gates. I was almost too afraid to touch it to push it open. The garden was immaculately kept, with lush, green grass that was trimmed and dotted with pink flowers.

  I opened the gate and stepped inside, onto the pebble path that led to the side of the house. My stomach sank when I saw the line of girls standing along the side of it in the alley.

  Shoulders slumping, I fell in line behind them, knowing my chances were now one in a hundred.

  At least.

  “A bit crowded,” someone said under her breath, but I knew she spoke about me, for her glare rested on my face and took me in from head to toe.

  I ignored her. It wasn’t worth a spat in the alley. We were here for the opportunity of a lifetime.

  This job would change everything. If only fate would give me a chance.

  We stood there for ages, while girl after girl was called inside through the servant's entrance. I waited for my turn, with the growling of my stomach echoing off the slick stone walls of the side of the house. Caiti, a girl I recognized from The Wall walked past, heading to the back of the line that had grown longer throughout the morning.

  She glanced at me, and for a second, she paused. She gave me a look as if she'd seen a ghost, and continued forward without a word.

  I frowned, watching her head to the back of the line. What was that look about?

  For some reason, it made my stomach churn with dread. What were the people on The Wall thinking of me?

  I needed to speak to Ford as soon as possible. I drank a sip of water and sighed, turning back to face forward in line.

  By noon, my legs were tired, and many of us had resorted to sitting in our spots.

  "Right girls," someone called, and we all scrambled to our feet.

  I swallowed a lump in my throat as a human woman wearing a dirty apron smudged with a red sauce of some sort stepped forward.

  She wrung her hands on a towel at her hip, and tucked a gray lock of hair behind her ear. As she clasped her hands before her, I knew what she was going to say, and my stomach dropped.

  Please, don’t say it.

  “Thanks for coming out, but we're all set for the position," she said. "You can clear out now. Check your local guild for any other openings.”

  The groaning from the remaining girls was enough to drown out all other sounds of the square. Frustrated, I pushed my way through the crowd and to the clearing.

  I'd just wasted half a day for nothing, and that wasn't the worst of it. I knew there was nothing else I could do unless I went to the employment office to find something menial.

  So much for pretending I lived in one of those great houses, and providing for my family.

  Back to the slums, it is.

  Chapter Eleven

  Heading back home was daunting. The local guilds were quite useless for matching us with proper jobs, but I was running out of options. I just knew that if I went there, they’d probably make me a bar maid in a tavern, or mine worker.

  There were worst jobs, but the pay was shite.

  I lingered in High Grove a bit longer, making sure not to loiter and anger the guards. The sun had finally decided to shine upon us, its rays magnified, warming my face as I undid my braids.

  Though I’d missed out on the opportunity, it was nice to have an excuse to stay in a nicer part of our kingdom.

  While the other girls filed out and headed back home, I took my time, and stood in the street.

  “Back to The Wall, is it?” Caiti said, her voice light like a bell.

  I could barely look at her without envy. She had short, ebony curls that framed her face, while I yearned for such thick, beautiful hair, and tanned skin. Black hair was the most common, but also considered the loveliest amongst the humans because it made them stand out from the typical elvish girl.

  I remembered Caiti being a bit snobbish, even though we worked the same job on The Wall. She and I were at the top, smoothing tar and placing heavy bricks upon it. I wonder if she’d been fired as well, or was simply searching for a better job than what she had.

  I glanced at her, and shrugged. “Probably not.”

  She grinned, and I couldn’t help but wince. Her charm was as fake
as the glass bracelet I wore on my wrist.

  “Better find something, mate,” she said. “I don’t think you’d fare too well in the Blood Lottery. I’ll be entering next year. You know how the elvish lads like dark-haired girls.”

  I turned away, ignoring her. My cheeks burned with rage as I fought to keep my composure. I knew I wasn’t the prettiest girl in Veruth, and my hair was a strange color, but I had other talents—talents that would change my life one day. I just needed to find the perfect outlet.

  The Blood Lottery was open to girls of eighteen and older to be matched with elves as mistresses, on the rare occasion, as wives. To me—it wasn’t any better than being a harlot, and I knew they only did it to keep full-bred human children to a minimum.

  Not interested.

  I knew it was a status symbol amongst the human girls to get themselves an elf suitor, but my loyalties remained with the humans.

  Shielding my eyes, I gazed upward to the next level of the kingdom where the palace looked down on us with its shining, golden towers.

  I'd seen it from the top of The Wall many times, but with it peering down at me, birds flying above, it was a different experience. Second to the Sky Keep floating in the air above the city, the Veruth Palace enchanted me and many of my dreams.

  A grand idea sprang into my head.

  What better great house to work in than the palace?

  I just needed someone to get me an introduction to the palace manager.

  Ford.

  His brother was one of the leaders of the rogue gang , The Crows, that basically ruled the lower East End.

  Yes, that was the way in.

  I turned away, holding onto that small ray of hope as I walked back downward to the tunnel that would lead me home.

  My blood ran cold as a group of masked men with black cloaks ran past. I gasped and stepped aside as they almost knocked me over.

  The response from the elves was immediate. The guards lifted their horns and blew into the air. The city shook, and as the alarm horn was sounded— before the gang of men could make their way into the inner city, armored sun elves flew in.