I didn't sleep well. Kept thinking about the deadline. Two days left.
The barn was cold. The straw smelled like dust. I sat up, rubbed my face. My body was tired, but my mind was already working.
Morning came anyway. Dark outside. The sky was grey. I walked to Elias's workshop.
He was already there. Packing tools into a cart. The cart was old, wooden wheels, creaky. He had a rope, an axe, a hammer, nails, a small saw.
"You're early," he said without looking up.
"Couldn't sleep."
"Me neither."
Rik showed up a few minutes later. His eyes were red. He hadn't slept either. Then two other men – Tomas, who fixed roofs, and old Henrick's son, Paul. Strong men. Quiet. They knew how to keep a secret.
Tomas had a leather bag with more tools. Paul brought a sack of food. Bread, dried meat, a few apples.
We loaded the cart. Rope. Axes. Hammer. Nails. Blankets. Dried meat. A bag of grain. Elias brought his small crystal – for light, he said. He wrapped it in cloth so it wouldn't glow too much.
We left before sunrise. The village was still asleep. No lights in windows. No smoke from chimneys. Just the sound of the cart wheels on dirt and our footsteps.
---
The walk took most of the morning. We moved fast. No talking. Just footsteps and the creak of the cart.
The path was narrow. Branches scratched my arms. The cart got stuck twice. Once in mud. Once on a root. We had to lift it. Paul cursed. Tomas laughed.
My legs ached. I thought about the cell again. The bird on the windowsill. I shook it off.
After a few hours, the trees opened up. The hills rose on both sides. The valley was hidden, like a secret. Sun was high. The stream was running. Grass was green. A few white flowers near the water.
"This is it," I said.
Tomas looked around. "Good spot. Hidden."
Paul nodded. "We can work with this."
Elias pointed to a flat area near the trees. "Shelters there. Fire pit there. Storage pit over there."
We unloaded the cart. The tools felt heavy in my hands. The sun was warm, but the air was cool. Smelled like dirt and leaves.
---
We started with the shelters. Four of them. Wood frames, thatched roofs.
Tomas climbed a tree to cut higher branches. He moved slow, careful. The branches fell with a crack. I dragged them to the flat area.
Rik dug post holes with a shovel. The ground was hard. Rocky. He was sweating after a few minutes.
"Need help?" I asked.
"I got it." But his voice was strained.
I took the shovel. Dug for a while. My arms burned. Paul came over with another shovel. We worked side by side.
Elias measured the ground. Walked back and forth. "Here. And here. And here."
We put the posts in. Tied them with rope. Not perfect, but solid.
The sun moved across the sky. Slow. We didn't stop for lunch. Just ate bread while we worked.
By mid‑afternoon, we had four frames up. Wooden posts, tied with rope. We covered them with branches and leaves. Not pretty. But solid.
Rik stepped back. "It'll keep the rain out."
"Barely," Tomas said. But he was smiling.
Paul wiped his forehead. "Good enough for now. We can improve later."
---
Next was the storage pit. Near the stream. The ground was softer there.
We dug for an hour. Deep. Wide. The dirt was dark, cool. We lined the pit with stones from the stream. Flat ones, smooth.
Elias climbed down into the pit. Pushed the stones into place. His hands were dirty. His knees were wet.
"More stones," he said.
Paul and I brought more. Rik stacked them near the edge. Tomas passed them down.
When the pit was lined, we covered it with logs. Thick ones. Then dirt on top. Stomped it down.
"Food and tools go here," Elias said, climbing out. "Hidden from anyone who stumbles into the valley."
Paul asked, "What about gold?"
I looked at Elias. He nodded.
"Gold and crystals go somewhere else. Closer to the shaft."
---
The shaft valley was a half‑hour walk. We left the cart and went on foot. Rik stayed behind to guard the shelters. He sat on a rock, axe in his hand.
"Shout if anything happens," I said.
"Nothing will happen."
The walk to the shaft valley was rough. Uphill. Loose rocks. My boots slipped twice. Elias grabbed my arm to steady me.
The first valley was quiet. No skittering this time. But the claw marks were still there on the rocks near the shaft. Deep. Fresh. The hole was dark. I couldn't see the bottom.
"Stay away from the edge," Elias said.
"I know."
We found the small cave we'd spotted before. Behind a boulder, hidden by bushes. The entrance was narrow. I had to turn sideways to get in.
Inside, the cave was small. Maybe big enough for two people. Cool. Damp. Smelled like wet stone.
We put the gold inside – a leather pouch, maybe sixty coins. Then the crystals. Small ones, wrapped in cloth. Then a knife. A flint. A healing potion.
I marked the boulder with a carved X. Small. Easy to miss.
"If we have to run, we come here," I said.
Elias looked at the shaft opening. Dark. Cold. He shivered.
"Stay away from that hole," he said. "Not yet."
"I know."
---
We got back to the second valley as the sun was setting. The sky was orange. The trees cast long shadows.
Rik had started a fire. Small, just for light. He was sitting on a log, whittling a stick.
"Any trouble?" I asked.
"Nothing. Just birds."
We sat around the fire. Ate dried meat. Drank from the stream. Paul passed around apples. The fire cracked. Sparks floated up.
Tomas leaned back. "This place could work. Really work."
Paul nodded. "Better than Oakhaven. No soldiers."
"Not yet," Elias said. "But we need to be ready."
I looked at the shelters. The fire pit. The storage pit. It wasn't much. But it was ours.
"We'll come back tomorrow," I said. "Pack more supplies. Bring blankets. Food."
Rik asked, "What about the old ones? How will they make the walk?"
"We'll take it slow. Two days if we have to."
He nodded. Didn't say anything else.
---
We left the valley after dark. Walked back to Oakhaven by moonlight. The path was hard to see. Twice I tripped on roots. Elias carried a torch.
The village was quiet when we returned. Lanterns in a few windows. Dogs barking somewhere.
Lora was waiting at the well. Holding a shawl around her shoulders.
"How did it go?" she asked.
"Shelters are up. Storage pit is dug. Gold is hidden."
She let out a breath. "Good."
"Tomorrow we pack our own things. The day after, I pay the tax. Then we leave."
She touched my hand. Her fingers were cold.
"My grandmother is scared."
"Tell her not to be. We'll take care of her."
"She doesn't trust carts. Says they're bumpy."
I almost smiled. "Then I'll carry her on my back."
Lora laughed. Quiet. Tired. "You'd do that."
"Yes."
We stood there for a moment. The well was dark. The stars were out. A few clouds drifted across the moon.
"I should go," she said. "She'll be wondering."
"Goodnight, Lora."
"Goodnight, Ash."
She walked back to her grandmother's cottage. The door closed. A light went out.
---
I walked to the barn. Lay on the straw. Stared at the roof. The cracks in the wood. The shadows.
Two more days. Then we leave.
I closed my eyes.
Tomorrow, we pack.