Chapter 5
At four in the morning, a gong rang out, jolting the whole Shadowmire Village awake.
Sev shot up from the straw pile—way too quick for someone who's been stuck here eighteen years.
"Hurry up! Get up and get to work!" he barked.
I rubbed my eyes and dragged myself up.
Outside, it was still before dawn, the fog so thick you couldn't even see your own hand in front of your face.
The male slaves were already lined up in two rows outside.
There were about thirty of them, ranging from guys in their twenties to old-timers in their sixties, all hunched over, eyes empty and lifeless.
Standing up front was a middle-aged witch, holding a bamboo staff, her eyes cold as ice.
"Today's chores—fetch water, chop wood, feed the Hex-Bugs, and clean out the bug chamber," she barked.
Her gaze paused on me for a moment.
"You, the new guy. Bug chamber duty," she snapped.
Sev's face fell.
"The Bug chamber?" he whispered, tugging at my sleeve. "First day and they're already sending you in there? Man, they're really giving you a hazing."
"What's the Bug chamber?" I asked.
"It's where they keep all the Hex-Bugs. Thousands of them, from the size of your finger to the size of your fist. They could bite you at any moment. One bite, and you'll be knocked out for days," he explained.
First day on the job and I'm already getting sent straight to the ER. This gig is brutal.
The Bug chamber was on the far east side of the village, a half-buried stone building.
As I got closer, I caught a strange sweet-and-metallic scent—like honey mixed with iron.
A young witch was standing guard at the entrance.
She looked to be in her early twenties, with a tan complexion, sharp features, and her lips set in a straight line.
Her name was Dawn—not that I knew it at the time.
"Get in," she said, pushing the door open, her face blank. "Clean out the Hex-Bugs' feeding bowls and refill them with fresh food. If one bites you, don't make a sound. If you scream, that's an extra day in here for you.
"Word of warning—if a poisonous one bites you, you'll be running a fever for three days. The really nasty ones will knock you out cold. And if you see any that glow, just run."
"Wait, what kind of glowing are we talking about?" I asked.
"All of them," she replied.
Alright, got it.
I took a deep breath and walked in.
The Bug chamber was way bigger than I'd imagined.
The place was dim, with stone platforms stacked along both sides, each one crammed with more clay jars than I could count.
Every jar was squirming with something inside.
An endless rustling echoed from every direction, like thousands of fingernails dragging across a blackboard all at once.
Goosebumps broke out all over my back.
With my heart pounding, I forced myself over to the first row of stone platforms and cracked open one of the clay jars.
Inside was a black Hex-Bug, about the size of my palm, with two green, bugged-out eyes that swiveled and stared me down.
I froze.
It gave a sudden jerk.
I instinctively took a step back.
But it didn't come at me.
Its antennae just gave a lazy wiggle.
Then it dropped its aggressive stance.
Slowly, it lowered its head and then it just lay down.
It was just like the one from last night.
I slowly reached out my hand, getting a bit closer.
It didn't react.
I edged in a little more.
Its antennae brushed against my fingertips—soft, almost as if it was checking me out.
Then it pressed its whole body against my palm, nuzzling me like a puppy.
Is this really a Hex-Bug? Or did I just pick up a golden retriever from the pet store?
I opened the second jar.
Inside was an even bigger one, blazing red from head to toe, looking so fierce it could've passed for a spicy chicken on steroids.
It saw my hand and it lay down too.
Third one.
Fourth one.
Fifth one.
All of them just flopped down.
I stood in the middle of the bug chamber, with two Hex-Bugs curled up on my left hand, three on my right, and a tiny one perched on my shoulder.
They were all so quiet, huddled together like baby chicks clinging to their mother.
Then I heard a sharp intake of breath from the doorway.
I turned around.
Dawn was standing there, her eyes were about to pop out of her head.
Her bamboo cane hit the floor, and she didn't even notice.
"What did you do to them?" Dawn blurted out, barely able to get the words out.
"I swear, I didn't do anything," I said.
"Impossible," Dawn's voice shook. "These are third-tier Hex-Bugs—crazy aggressive! If you get near them without a blood pact, they'd tear your hand apart—"
She didn't even get to finish her sentence.
The tiny Hex-Bug on my shoulder gave a little hop, found a more comfortable spot, and just kept lying there.
It rubbed against my neck.
It tickled.
Dawn just stood there, completely frozen.
Her expression? Well— Like someone who only believes in science suddenly seeing a ghost.
"Don't move," Dawn said, taking a step back. "I'll go get Grandmaster Raven."