The Shadowlands by Emily Rodda

kind, 3-19!’
    Lief’s heart thudded. The being called 3-19 was a Grade 3 Ol! An example of the most perfect, the most dangerous, of the Shadow Lord’s evil shape-changers. Able to mimic humans so perfectly that they could live among them without detection.
    Who—or what—was the other speaker then? He burned to see what the two looked like, but did not dare lift his head.
    ‘The master has begun to think that the Grade 3s were a mistake,’ the woman was continuing. ‘Too like humans. Prone to pride, curiosity, weakness and disobedience. And you, 3-19, seem to be proving his point!’
    With that, she strode rapidly ahead of her companion. Lief slid forward and ducked hastily out of the side passage just in time to avoid being discovered.
    He could see the crouched forms of Barda, Jasmine and Emlis a few rows ahead of him. He could also see the white-clad legs of the mysterious woman, further towards the back of the room.
    With a thrill of horror, Lief saw that a corner of Emlis’s green cloak was trailing into the passage. If the woman looked ahead, looked down…
    But she seemed to be in no mood to notice her surroundings. One of her feet was tapping impatiently as 3-19 hurried to join her, murmuring apologies and explanations.
    ‘… did not mean anything by it,’ Lief heard the Ol say. ‘I would never question the master’s judgement.’
    ‘I thought that was exactly what you
were
doing!’ snapped the woman, moving into the next row of emerging Grey Guards. ‘The Conversion Project is the way of the future, 3-19. As you will find out, very soon.’
    ‘Soon?’ gulped 3-19, thoroughly frightened now. ‘But I thought—’
    ‘All errors in the process have been corrected,’ the woman said coldly. ‘Do you see any fault in
me
?’
    There was a moment of stunned silence.
    ‘I—I did not know you were one of them,’ faltered 3-19 at last.
    ‘Well, I am!’ snapped the woman. ‘Now! Explain to me why these Krops seem thinner than they should be.’
    They were moving towards the other side of the room once more. Lief, Barda, Jasmine and Emlis slid out of hiding and began crawling forward as rapidly as they could.
    In moments they had drawn almost level with the two inspectors, who by now had almost reached the end of the Krop Pod. Now was the most dangerous time. One by one the companions crossed the gap between containers. They would be in clear view of the two standing at the far end, should either of them turn.
    But neither did. Glancing sideways as he scooted from shelter, Lief caught a brief glimpse of two white-clad figures, one tall, one short and slender, standing close together at the end of the container. The short one was consulting a chart. The tall one was bending to turn one of the knobs mounted on the container’s shining metal.
    Then the figures were out of sight once more as Lief scuttled on after his friends, past the last few pods and across the back wall to the open door.
    Keeping low, Jasmine peered cautiously through the doorway. She turned and nodded to the others, then crawled through the opening. Barda and Emlis went after her. But as Lief followed, noting that the room beyond the door was some sort of workroom, he heard the Ol speak again, very timidly.
    ‘The master’s plan—’
    ‘The master has many plans!’ interrupted the woman sharply. ‘And none of them are your concern.’
    Jasmine was beckoning urgently from the other side of the room, but Lief could restrain his curiosity no longer. As soon as he could, he stood up and peered cautiously around the half-open door, back into the pod room.
    The two figures had begun their inspection of the next row of Guards. The shorter one, the female, was consulting the chart. The tall one was walking behind her, glowering.
    His thin, sour face was the face of Fallow.
    Lief gripped the edge of the door till his knuckles turned white. That is not Fallow, he reminded himself desperately. Fallow is dead. That creature, 3-19, simply