Strike
By Isobel Bury
“Jethro”, I hear. Time to strike.
It’s the perfect night for it. The Night Bazaar. Everyone is preoccupied by the fireworks popping above. Everyone’s heads are turned upwards, away from the action going on below.
This plan is flawless. I have thought through this plan again and again, smoothing it out. As long as everyone plays their part, all will be fine.
My shadow spirit slinks behind the crowd, running like water, then coming to a silent stop before me.
“Ready?” she asks.
“Ready” I say. I jump on her tail, and she catapults me up, up, up and over the wall.
My heart jumps in my throat when I see men guarding the wall, but they don’t see me.
“Phew” I sigh to myself. That was too close.
I sneak along the route that I memorised, and get to the Centre. The heart of the town. The Commander. The one place I need to be tonight.
I tweak the door open and sigh with relief. The lever is there. The only thing that I was unsure about.
Just as I am about to pull the lever down, I hear a deep, unknown voice.
“Stop. Right. There.”