Within the Walls [NEW VERSION]

Chapter 1

Sometimes, I am more shadow than girl. And yet, the scream rattles my bones. It reverberates through the alleyway and rakes its fingers down my spine. I quicken my pace and weave between the shadowed, dusty tight-knit brick-and-mortar buildings, passing bony beggars, and emerge into the town square. The rumbling crowd falls silent as the three Tranqs fasten bronze handcuffs to a girl's wrists and shove her into step. Their thick, black amour clank together, rippling through the silence. She mutters prayers to the Gods as they direct her through the rendered-still crowd, the spears and swords pinned to their backs mocking gleam behind them. The girl looks no older than me, 19, with knotted brown hair pulled behind her head. She tightens her jaw, and a tear dribbles down her cheek. Her dirt-stained, threadbare apron, grey tunic, and scrubbed raw fingers indicate she likely works with my sister in the laundry. Hundreds of eyes, including my own, follow her as the men shove her forward. She does not resist. As she stumbles past, her gaze locks with my own. Bile stings my throat as the watery, wide glint in her eyes sinks, like blades, into my gut.

The Tranquillity, nicknamed the Tranqs, haul the girl into a barricaded wagon, shoving her into the wooden seat. They each wear black metal helmets that conceal their face, other than the narrow slits for their eyes. Dainty, glinting knives are fastened to their belts. Spears are pinned across their backs. With each step, the clang of their metal armour rings through the square and bores into my ears. Horses snort and stamp their feet before jerking the trailer forward, drawing gasps and flinches from the thong. But the girl's eyes remain pinned on us, on me, the Convex people. Our silence betrays her.

As soon as the horse and wagon disappear around the corner, the crowd disperses at an astonishing rate. Mothers in grimy grey tunics grip the hands of their uncomprehending children, desperately tugging them away. Elderly men and women, thin and frazzled, shuffle back to their homes in knowing silence.

I duck my head, slipping into the hordes of gaunt figures staggering towards the western exit. My teeth clatter together. A freezing draft lashes into the square like a whip. Dread curls in my stomach and I brace myself as it grazes my cheeks. I gag at the pungent stench of decay. An array of buildings borders the square, built from brown brick and mortar. There's an apothecary on the ground floor of one building, leaking an aroma of pungent sage and other herbal medicines. The owner, a scrawny woman with yellowish skin, slips from the masses and slams the door shut, flipping her open sign to closed and drawing the blinds tight. A tavern, usually crawling with drunkards, flicks its warm candle lights off. The last few buildings are filled with residential apartments.

The Tranqs took the girl into the street between the apothecary and the pub. We all know what that means.

A woman with greasy hair squeaks next to me when the distant city gates ease open on their mechanical hinges. Groaning and screeching. Stone gates, against the stone ground. I hold my breath, listening for the girl's final scream. My heart thunders against my chest. The sharp pitch of her scream burrows into my bones.

I loosen my breath.

A rough voice catches my attention.

"I hear she stole food from a Concave gentleman," the man says, shaking his head. His scruffy beard and hollow cheekbones are indicative of his Convex status. His hands are calloused and stained with black oil. He's likely a blacksmith.

"She was his wife's handmaid," another man mutters. He chews his cracked, dark lip. His jawline is too sharp, and his ribs poke out from beneath his thin, tan tunic. "Stealing from a Concave man whose wife is pregnant...well, she's at the mercy of the insanity beyond the walls now."

"Not if the monsters find her first," the first man says grimly. They shoulder their way around a corner, towards the markets and their voices dissipate.