The Underworld Crown (Series)

Chapter 14

The streets around Artemis' building were dodgy. It was clear that Artemis was much the same as her mother – greedy for her own power, and utterly careless about the wealth of those around her. Her building stuck out from the scenery like a sore thumb. Neighbouring houses were dilapidated and composed of crumbling bricks, which fell onto the streets and blocked the path of travel.

The morning was now growing over the city and the streets were significantly more crowded. Prowling eyes of men dressed in rags raked my body. I wrapped my arms around my upper body, all too self-conscious of the conspicuous camisole I wore now that Artemis had my cloak.

I took a deep breath, kept my head down and took a right when I exited Artemis' building. I reminded myself that a little unwanted attention was a price I was willing to pay. I had a life on Earth that I wanted to get back to. And I'd so far decided I would risk anything for it. Even if it meant contracting one of the deadliest warriors in Hell.

The only problem was; it was clear this guy operated on a transaction-basis only. If I wanted his services, it was clear I'd need to provide something valuable in consideration. But the problem was, I had nothing valuable on me.

Why did I have to end up here? I wished for nothing more than to be back at Milton High, milling around the front lawn with Camilla before class begun. I missed her so much. A tear slipped down my cheek before I even realised I was crying. I swiped at it angrily, keeping my head down low. Then I remembered; perhaps the people on the streets weren't looking at me for my outfit – but for the colour of my hair.

Artemis had made it clear to me that my red hair would be one big, fat target. I looked at a pile of dirt and debris on the ground and an idea popped into mind. I'd always loved my hair; it was unique and helped add a feminine feature to my appearance, so it was with a heavy heart that I knew that what I was about to do would be removing me one step further from the life I knew on Earth. I choked back the tears, reminding myself again of home, when I scooped up a handful of dirt into my hands and layered it onto my head. Hidden beside a mountain of trash, no one spared me a glance.

I plonked the dirt on the top of my head, and it fell down my face, getting in my eyes and making me cough. With some reluctance, I reached up and scrubbedthe dirt into my hair, running it through my strands until they turned a darkbrown. It was impossible to see what I was doing, but I scrubbed for a few minutes, piling on new handfuls of dirt once a lot of it had already fallen across my shoulders and down my arms, dirtying me completely.

I was grateful there was no mirror to reveal my much shabbier appearance. I bit my lip to try to stop me from crying. It was superficial, but changing my hair and smothering it in dirt made me feel more alone than I ever had in the past week.

I'd just stepped off the street curb into a T-intersection when I overheard scuffling. In the adjoining alleyway, people clustered together in what looked like a physical confrontation. I hesitated, though no one else around me gave the scene any attention. I peered closer, trying to see the details clearer. With any luck, I was mistaking a friendly encounter for a nasty one. However, I was too far from the confrontation to be able to make out anything in the darkness.

Damn red skies.

I darted behind a pile of rubbish, using it as my cover. I wasn't too much closer, but I was close enough to be able to see what was going on. Four men holding different forms of weaponry cornered another man, whose face I couldn't make out from his position in the darkest recesses of the alleyway.

One of the four men clutched a sword with a black and gold hilt. The light reflected off the sharp blade, making me wonder how a gang decked in shabby clothing had come across a weapon so beautiful and obviously expensive. I eyed the sword with a newfound interest.