Play of Shadows

00.2 The Smiling Man

The rocking of wooden wheels over a dirt path shook Ann awake. She blinked blearily, attempting to make sense of the weathered wagon rattling steadily up a deserted mountain road. There was a cliff on one side and a sheer drop on the other. Ann swiftly moved as far away from the chasm as possible, turning her eyes resolutely to the front.

"Excuse me," Ann called to the coachman spurring on a tired, whining donkey, "Where are we headed?"

"Town," the man replied shortly.

Ann studied the stooped line of the driver's shoulders. He wore a low-brimmed hat and sat hunched onto himself, his face hidden in shadows.

All in all, not the most reassuring set of circumstances for a lone girl to wake up to.

Ann ran her fingers over the line of her own jaw. Her skin gave way to cold porcelain that fit snugly over her face. She exhaled softly; the mask had made it through the VELES firewall.

The wagon trudged on. The sky darkened to pitch black above them, the moon a ghostly crescent behind a veil of clouds. Ann could no longer see the road. The sole lantern hanging from the driver's seat glowed dully, the glass stained with smoke.

Ann hugged her arms. She wore a thick dress and a patched coat over that, but the season was late and the mountain wind, unforgiving. The mask was ice cold when she dared to touch, scalding her bare fingers.

"How much further?" she called.

The coachman did not respond. Worse, the wagon stopped moving entirely not long thereafter.

Ann tensed. They had not reached town and the driver had not spoken of any detours. She waited quietly, straining her ears for any stray sound. As minutes slowly slipped by without movement or change in their surroundings, she prepared to seek the cause of the delay herself.

"Requesting Miss to remain seated until arrival," the coachman rasped.

Ann sat back down slowly. There was a threat in the man's voice; exploring the area was obviously not the way out of the predicament.

"Why have we stopped?" Ann asked, hoping for a clue. She truly was very cold and aside from that, growing pretty restless.

The coachman answered with delay, the words begrudging. "The path is blocked. We will move once it clears."

Ann craned her head, but could not make out anything in the dark. She scooted toward the driver's seat and, seeing that the driver had no reaction, plucked the lantern from its hook and leaned forward.

A grinning face swam out of the shadows.

Ann fell back with a shout. The lantern dropped from her hands, the light dimming to nothing.

The coachman's flat voice rang like a knell in the silence. "Miss has broken the rules."

Ann raised her head. The coachman had turned to face her. His mouth was visible under the brim of his hat, filled with sharp, glinting teeth.

"Miss has broken the rules," the man repeated. "Miss must pay the price."

Ann's heart jumped. The wagon lurched before she could get her bearings, breaking the tense moment. A man clambered onboard. The lantern swung from his hand, glowing merrily.

"It's not even broken," the man said. The light reached his jaw, illuminating the same hooked mouth that had smiled at Ann from the dark. "What's all the fuss about?"

He handed the lantern to the coachman. The coachman hooked it back in its place and spurred the donkey forward without a word.

Ann did not relax her guard. She eyed her new companion, wondering about his purpose.