A Latent Dark (53 page)

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Authors: Martin Kee

Tags: #Horror, #Fantasy

BOOK: A Latent Dark
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I think you, Melissa, understand that now.

*

The vast, serpentine hall reappeared around them, and Rhia was silent. After a long, pregnant pause, Melissa spoke.

“So Skyla’s mother is dead?” Melissa asked.

“Not anymore dead than you are,” said Rhia. “That is, until the machine finds this place.”

“Can it?”

“If it looks hard enough. If Skyla leads it here.”

“Can’t we just break it?” she said. “Send her a message, tell her what plug to pull?”

“I can’t get to her,” Orrin said. “There are no safe shadows in that lab, not to mention the guards. A raven hopping through their hallways wouldn’t exactly go unnoticed.”

 “The machine doesn’t work like that,” said Rhia. “It will run as long as it can feed. It responds to her just as it did for me. It is using her as a way to focus on its prey. Without Skyla it will eventually run out of food and sleep.”

“You make it sound as though it were alive,” said Dale.

Rhia said nothing.

“What happens if it overeats?” Melissa said. “What if instead of stopping it from eating, it eats anything it wants, like a mosquito? What if it gorges itself?”

“The idea is to keep it from destroying souls,” said Rhia. “Not encourage it.”

“But that’s what the machine wants,” Melissa said. “It wants to eat. It wouldn’t stop anyone from letting it do more of what it wants. One time I ate so much candy I puked. What happens if it pukes?”

Orrin cocked his head, then lifted from Rhia’s shoulder and vanished up into the ceiling, turning black as coal as he flew. A cloud of dust motes caught in the shaft of light as he disappeared. The only sound was the flapping of his wings.

“How does he do that?” asked Dale.

“Do what?” said Rhia.

Dale pointed to the opening in the sky. “He goes between the world of the living and the dead. That doesn’t seem unique to you?”

“He’s the raven,” said Rhia, as if it were obvious.

“But how can he do it and we can’t?”

“Dale,” she said, looking less like a goddess and more like the teenager she was when she died. “He can do that because he is the raven.”

“I know he’s a raven—”

Rhia pressed a finger to his lips. “You didn’t hear me,” she said. “He’s
The
Raven.”

All folklore is rooted in facts, even when distorted and filtered through the generations using a form of communication as inefficient as language. For most people, the idea of The Raven, who stole the sun and gave it to humans, or the ravens that told Odin the secrets of the gods, means nothing. To the few people who traded with the indigenous peoples who passed through Lassimir, it rang a bell.

Dale’s eyes grew wide.

Rhia smiled.

Chapter 38

 

They took her rucksack along with her coin. After her little stunt, Ostermann had been furious. Stintwell stood over Skyla, holding the goggles. At least she was getting these back.

“Do you know what these are?” Stintwell asked.

Skyla shrugged. “They make my head hurt,” she said. “Sometimes I get sick.”

Stintwell sat next to her. “That’s because they haven’t been calibrated for you.”

“What does that mean?” Skyla said, her eyes shifting between the Tinkeress and the goggles.

“It means that in order for them to do what they are supposed to do, they have to be set a certain way. Like this.”

The woman adjusted the ring around one of the lenses with a series of clicks. She picked up her clipboard, looked at it, and then made one last adjustment to the lens.

“There,” she said. “That should do it.”

Skyla reached for the goggles, but Stintwell pulled them back. “Skyla,” she said, her tone serious. “These can only be used during tests. Do you understand that?”

“Why?” asked Skyla, pouting.

A horrified look passed over the woman’s face. “Because they can be very dangerous if you don’t use them correctly.”

“I used them before and nobody got hurt.”

“You were lucky,” Laura said.

“Will they help me to see the shadows better?”

“Yes they will,” Laura said. “And they will also help us to measure the shadows.”

“Measure them?”

“That’s right.”

She got up and led Skyla down the hallway. As they passed the two old doors with the ornate handles—the rooms that once had Lynn’s and Rhia’s names nailed to them—Skyla felt her finger throb again. She looked up at Laura.

“It’s not dangerous, you know,” Skyla said. “It’s just a doorway.”

“Of course it is,” Stintwell said, completely missing the point. “Maybe one day after this demonstration is over, we’ll have someone clean up the broken glass and make it safe for you.”

“What glass?”

Laura looked at her. “Your finger…”

Skyla looked at her hand. She had a smaller bandage, now that the wound had scabbed over. She looked back up at the woman. “This is from the girl-shaped doorway.”

Stintwell gave her a blank stare. “You slammed it in the door?”

“No,” Skyla said staring at the doors. “The doorway in the room. I had my finger in it, but then the guards killed all the shadows and it closed.” She shrugged. “At least nothing got out this time.”

The girl looked up at her and smiled. Laura returned a nervous one and placed a hand on Skyla’s shoulder, turning her away from the doors. A group of men were filing into a nearby room. They all wore lab coats and fancy church robes.

“Who are all those men?”

“They’re here to see how well you do in your tests.”

Skyla didn’t recognize any of them, except for one. He was an older man, wearing a white on white suit. He was so camouflaged he almost disappeared against the walls, a disembodied grinning head. Skyla shrieked and froze. The Reverend Lyle Summers stopped and turned. He grinned at her.

“No!” Skyla screamed.
“No, no, no, no!”
She slipped backwards, almost falling over, scrambling and clawing to get away from the smiling man in white.

Lyle began walking towards them, his shadow long and menacing along the walls, even against the bright light. Smoke billowed from his nose and mouth like a dragon.

“Skyla!” Laura said, grabbing her, steadying her. “It’s all right. It’s okay. You’ve never met the Reverend Lyle Summers.”

Skyla was crying now, tears of horror streaking down her face. Laura held her fast, staring into her eyes, shaking her gently by the shoulders.

“It’s him,” the girl sobbed. “The man who… who…”

She couldn’t even speak. Lyle approached her in slow motion, a walking nightmare, the man who killed and burned and bled anyone who got in his way. His shadow told so many tales of cruelty and grief it was like a kaleidoscope in a haunted funhouse.

He reached them and stopped, taking a leisurely drag on his cigarette. He regarded Skyla with impossibly blue eyes. He looked at the Tinkeress.

“Hello, Laura,” he said.

“Reverend,” Laura said with a slight bow. “I’m sorry for the trouble.” She held Skyla in a vice now.

“Oh, no trouble at all,” he said, taking another puff on the cigarette. He kneeled down. “And this must be Skyla. I’ve been waiting a very long time to meet you.”

His smile was too perfect, an aged fashion model cast in leather. Skyla could only stare at him.

“I guess you and I have gotten off to a bit of a bad start,” he said. “Your mother and I were very close, Skyla. If you had given me a single moment to explain instead of leading me all over hell’s half acre, I could’ve probably told you that.”

Lyle smiled and so did his shadow. A vortex chorus of faces peered out from around the edges of his head. “We’re all looking forward to your demonstration today. I hear you’re as good as your aunt.”

“Y-you can’t see
wh
-what I see,” she said. “But I know what you are.”

“You know what?” he said, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Your Aunt Rhia said that exact same thing to me once.” He smiled again, and Skyla felt her skin crawl.

“She’s been through a lot,” Laura interjected. “I’m sorry if—”

“No!” Skyla yelled.
Ostermann’s
head peered around the hall, glaring. “He’s not what you all think he is! He’s awful.”

“Skyla!” Laura snapped. “That’s enough. The Reverend Summers
owns
this facility.” She looked at The Reverend, apologetically. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”

“Oh, I understand, believe me,” Lyle said. “It’s been a harrowing couple of months for everyone. It looks like you even hurt yourself.” He eyed her truncated finger. “I hurt myself once too.”

Skyla only glared at the man, her lips pursed. Lyle smirked and removed his jacket, handing it to Stintwell. He rolled up his sleeve, all the way to the shoulder. A gash ran across his upper arm just below the shoulder.

“I know a few things about demons, Skyla.” His eyes were cold fire as he said it.

Skyla watched as black ink seeped from his shoulder into the air between them. It was as if the man was a walking balloon filled with nothing but smoke. She stared at the scar, knowing full well nobody else could see it.

“How…” was all she could squeeze out.

“Oh, it’s a long story,” he said, rolling his sleeve down. “Maybe if the demonstration goes well, we can talk about it over a nice cup of tea.”

Skyla fought back a shudder. It was no use. Nobody could see what she saw in the man, except maybe her mother and Rhia. Were they this scared of him? Could they see how vile he was, what he had done to people? What he
made
people do to each other?

“I’m not doing the demonstration,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “You can’t make me.”

“Skyla—” Laura began again, but Lyle held up a hand. He knelt down again until he was eye level with her. He reached out and took her by the shoulders. Skyla muffled a scream as he pulled her close to him, his shadow licking at her arms. She grimaced.

“I know where your mother is,” he whispered in her ear. “And if you don’t do this for me, I guarantee that you will never see her or your aunt ever again. That’s a promise.”

He pulled back, looking into her huge, terrified eyes. With a slow grace, he stood and took his jacket from Laura, putting it back on.

“Now,” he said. “I look forward to seeing your work.” He gave a curt nod and returned to the room packed with Tinkerers and clergy. Skyla stood frozen as the man floated down the hallway and out of sight. Laura took her hand, ignoring how sweaty it was. Skyla did her best to crush it in her grip.

They turned a corner and stepped into a huge circular room. The walls and ceiling were covered in white tile. A metal chair sat the center of the floor. Ostermann approached her from a side room where the men were gathered.

“Have a seat,” he said as she eased herself into the chair. “Are you ready for your big test today, Skyla?”

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