Secrets watch. Darkness listens.
Story 3: The Friend Who Counted Seconds
Kesh always counted when he was afraid.
No one noticed it at first.
When storms came, he counted the seconds between thunder and rain.
When guards passed too close, he counted their steps.
When doors closed behind them, he counted the heartbeats before silence settled.
Right now, as boots scraped closer outside the record-keepers’ room, Kesh was counting again.
One… two… three…
“They’re not rushing,” he whispered. “That’s bad.”
Mira glanced at him. “How many?”
“Six,” he said. “Six people. Heavy armor. One leader who doesn’t like being surprised.”
Aryn looked at him sharply. “You’re sure?”
Kesh gave a thin smile. “I’ve been wrong before. This isn’t one of those times.”
The voice outside spoke again, smoother now.
“You don’t need to hide,” it said. “You’re not in trouble. Not yet.”
Mira snorted softly. “That’s always how it starts.”
Aryn felt the map press warm against his side, like a warning pulse. His mark burned faintly.
“They’re buying time,” he said. “Waiting for something.”
The door handle turned.
Stopped.
Turned again.
Click.
Kesh’s voice dropped. “He’s counting too.”
Mira moved first.
She kicked the table sideways, sending parchment and ink crashing to the floor. As the guards burst in, blinded by flying dust, she hurled a candle. Fire flared. Smoke bloomed.
“Now!” she shouted.
They ran.
The corridors twisted like a living thing.
Left. Right. Down a spiral stair that smelled of damp stone and old water. Shouts echoed behind them. Metal clanged. Orders snapped through the air.
Aryn’s lungs burned.
“Kesh!” Mira yelled. “Path!”
Kesh skidded to a stop at a split hallway, eyes darting. “Three seconds,” he muttered. “Give me three seconds.”
Aryn trusted him.
That was the problem.
“Left!” Kesh said suddenly. “No—wait—right. Right now!”
They turned just as a net of glowing threads slammed into the space they’d almost chosen, sizzling against the wall.
Mira laughed breathlessly. “I like him.”
They burst into a narrow passage that sloped downward.
Too steep.
They slid.
Stone scraped skin. The air grew colder. The sound of pursuit faded… then vanished entirely.
They landed hard at the bottom, sprawled and gasping.
Silence.
Not safe silence.
Listening silence.
Kesh was the first to speak. “Okay. Good news—we’re alive.”
Mira groaned. “Bad news?”
“We are absolutely, completely lost.”
Aryn pushed himself up slowly.
The walls here were different—older, etched with symbols half-erased by time. Water trickled somewhere nearby, rhythmic and steady.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Then the sound stopped.
Kesh froze. “That’s… not good.”
From the darkness ahead, something moved.
Not rushed. Not loud.
Measured.
Aryn felt the map shift against his ribs.
Mira lifted her blade. “Whatever you are,” she called out, “we’re not here to fight.”
A figure stepped into the faint light.
A girl.
About their age. Barefoot. Cloaked in grey. Her eyes were sharp and tired, like someone who’d been running far longer than they had.
She looked at them, then at Aryn’s mark.
Her expression changed.
“You brought it,” she said softly.
Kesh blinked. “Brought what?”
She smiled sadly.
“The lie.”
Before any of them could speak, a deep rumble rolled through the passage.
The floor shuddered.
The girl backed away. “You shouldn’t have come here yet,” she said. “They’ll feel it now.”
“Who will?” Mira demanded.
The girl met Aryn’s eyes.
“The ones who wake,” she said, “when the shadows stop pretending to sleep.”
The ground cracked.
Aryn grabbed Kesh’s arm as the floor split open beneath them.
And as they fell into darkness, Kesh’s voice echoed—
“Next time,” he said breathlessly, “we listen to the map after we run!”
Review Shadows Don’t Sleep – Story 3.