Dark Company (22 page)

“Did you see that?” Caddy whispered.

Poe was staring at the blood on his hands.

F
rancis, Kenji and the mouse were waiting for Skylark when she returned to the room. No one said anything, but she could feel the weight of their concern. She hoped they didn’t know where she’d been. She thought she saw something in the old man’s eyes, but if he did know something, he was keeping it to himself. Kenji was inscrutable behind his glasses, as always. The mouse scuttled up her arm and groomed himself. She decided to act casual.

“What’s up?”

“Target practice.” Francis didn’t wait for her response. He took her hand and with a quick clap, the four of them were standing in the middle of a large green space. A bull’s-eye stood at one end of the field.

“All right,” Francis said. “Aim your light at that target over there and see if you can hit it.”

“What do you mean?” Skylark asked.

Francis raised his hands to demonstrate. “Channel your energy through your hands and fire it like a weapon.” He fired a short burst of light at the bull’s-eye, hitting it right in the middle.

Skylark straightened her back and fixed on the target. Holding
her hands at heart level, she blasted a beam of light so powerful, it hit the target like napalm, her robe reverting with the impact. The bull’s-eye exploded, along with an innocent line of trees in the background, leaving a curtain of orange flames and black smoke rolling against the blue sky.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Francis hollered. He shot a dousing ray to extinguish the fire.

A charred crater smoked in the pristine carpet of green where the target had stood. Kenji shot a wry look at Skylark. She turned from the smouldering hole, tugging on her robe with disappointment.

“Why do I keep reverting like this?”

“It’s the power,” Francis said.

“You don’t revert.”

“Sure I do. When we battle, when we exert a great effort, we need all the energy we’ve got to make our shots count. That’s why it’s essential not to go in half-cocked. Once we revert, the Speaker can pick up on our energetic signature and the rodeo starts—whether you’re in the saddle or not. You’ve got more power than anyone I’ve ever seen, so it’s not a surprise you revert so easily.”

Skylark pointed at the gaping hole in the ground. “What good is all this power if I can’t control it?”

“Now, don’t get hasty. These things take practice. Let’s try reining it in a bit. Cup your hands next time.”

“Clear your mind,” the mouse advised her. “Beaming is a surgical art. It requires an equal measure of precision and power.”

Skylark shook her hands as though preparing for a piano recital, and cupped her palms. She looked at Francis for approval. He plucked at his beard and nodded.

“Aim for the hole.”

Skylark fired. Another wall of light blasted from her hands, reigniting the smoking crater and the scorched trees.

“Subtle,” Kenji said.

Francis rocked back on his heels, mulling. “We can’t go around blowing things to blue blazes all the time,” he instructed. “Our work requires more … delicacy.”

“You’re the one who told me this takes practice,” Skylark said.

“Not to worry,” the mouse soothed, patting her neck. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

“What about the Ephemeral?” Kenji suggested.

“You mean Ol’ Silver?” Francis hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “Now, that’s an interesting thought …”

“Tell me you don’t mean the Elusive Ephemeral,” the mouse said. “You’re going to need permission for that.”

Kenji ignored him. “She may give Skylark more control.”

Francis squinted at Kenji. “When’s the last time we knocked on her door?”

“Not since we got in trouble.”

“Who are we talking about?” Skylark asked. They just kept going as though she wasn’t there.

“They may not bond …” Francis said.

“We won’t know unless we try.”

Francis and Kenji nodded at each other, and finally acknowledged her.

“We’re going on a field trip,” Francis said.

Skylark shrugged. “Okay.” It had to be better than standing around demolishing things and feeling foolish.

In a heartbeat they were standing in a hushed, dimly lit room. Its pink marble walls were lined with illuminated glass cases holding all kinds of treasure—gold boxes and bowls, swords, shields, urns, vases, gauntlets, shoes, scrolls, illuminated manuscripts. It was the coolest place Skylark had ever seen.

“What is this?” she asked, her voice swallowed by the ambient energy in the room.

Francis smiled. “The Museum of Relics and Artifacts.”

He walked over to a case that looked like a magician’s prop. It was tall and thin, with gold borders and a filigreed, antique padlock securing the door. Inside the case, a bright cloud of mist hung, captured and held by an alchemist’s trick. Skylark peered through the glass to get a better look and was startled when the holographic image of a glistening bow and quiver jumped into view beside her.

“The Elusive Ephemeral,” a scholarly voice narrated. “Also known as the Bow of Ages. Believed to bestow extraordinary precision upon its owner. Characteristics—scrolling colour and light polarity serve as a form of communication and camouflage. Origin—unknown.”

Skylark couldn’t believe her eyes. The Elusive Ephemeral was exquisite—all glimmer and mystery. “How beautiful.”

“One of a kind,” the mouse said.

“Whose was it?” she asked, tapping on the glass. “And why is it hidden in that mist?”

Francis ran his hand along the length of the case. “As far as I know, Ol’ Silver has never been anybody’s. No one’s had the right touch. And that mist … it’s hers. She creates it and hides in there like a cuttlefish.”

“She’s never been held?” Skylark asked.

“She’s skittish as a filly.”

“I held her, once,” Kenji said. “But not for long.”

Skylark studied the hologram. “So … why should I be any different?”

“Why shouldn’t you be?” Francis said.

She thumbed the gold padlock. “They’ve got her locked in.”

“Then we’ll have to ask the curator for the key—politely.” Francis cocked an eyebrow at Kenji.

“Oh, I doubt they’ll give it to you,” the mouse said.

Kenji reached into his trench coat pocket and produced a small gold key.

The mouse squeaked with shock. “Where did you get that?”

“Yeah,
where did
you get that?” Francis asked.

Kenji smirked. “It’s a miracle.” He turned the key in the lock. There was a satisfying click, and the arm of the padlock popped up and swung to one side. He opened the glass door. The mist retreated cat-like to the back of the case.

“I don’t like this one bit,” Sebastian sniffed, clinging to Skylark’s hair.

“Go on and reach in there,” Francis said.

She hesitated. What if the Ephemeral didn’t like her?

“Go on. She won’t harm you.”

Skylark raised her hand, pausing for a moment longer before sticking her fingers in the mist. It felt cool and strange. It swirled around, pushing against her hand at first then wrapping around her wrist and drawing her in. “Hey!” She yanked her hand out. “It grabbed me.” She looked at Francis.

“You’re doing good,” he said.

“It feels funny.”

Francis winked. “She’s just being playful.”

Skylark poked at the mist. It curled around her finger. She laughed and offered her hand again, this time allowing the mist to take it.

Francis nodded with approval. “Feel around a bit—gentle like.”

She felt around. Nothing. Then her hand brushed against a string of sorts. It sent a charge through her fingers and she had to force herself not to pull away. “I can feel it,” she said. “It feels alive!”

Francis laughed. “She is alive. Keep going.”

Skylark reached deeper and found the bow. It shivered lightly against her palm. She traced the arc of its spine with her finger. It rose and dipped in a French curve. Mustering her courage, Skylark clasped the bow. It gripped back, forming to fit her hand. She drew it into the light, the bow trailing a veil of mist from the
case. The Ephemeral scrolled through its rainbow of colours, humming in her hand like a honeybee. Skylark was ecstatic. She turned to Francis, triumphant. “I got her!”

Francis slapped his thigh with excitement. “You did it!”

Kenji whistled. “What did I tell you?”

“Ohhhh … so beautiful,” the mouse sighed.

“Keep looking,” Francis said. “There’s more.”

Skylark reached in and found a finely carved quiver made from the most fantastic material. It looked like leather, but shone like the belly of a fish. The quiver held a sheaf of silver arrows, straight and true. They hummed and glistened like the bow. Francis and Kenji exchanged astonished looks.

“Go on,” Francis encouraged her. “Try it on.”

Quick and light, Skylark swung the quiver onto her back. It hugged the curve of her spine, mimicking the colour of her shirt so that it rested nearly invisible between her shoulder blades. Its energy pulsed, bonding with her own, and she was struck by a profound sense of love and wonder. “I can feel its life against me! I think it’s … 
breathing
.” She looked to Francis for confirmation but he seemed as surprised as she was.

The mouse shivered. “I can feel it too.”

Skylark tested the tension on the bow, plucking the string. It responded in a pure, high voice.

“There’s more yet,” Francis said. “Reach in there one more time.”

Skylark searched the mist. There
was
something else—a fingerless leather glove and laced armguard. When she took them from the case, the last of the mist came with them and dissipated. Without hesitation, Skylark stripped the gauntlets from her wrists and pulled the glove onto her right hand, pressing the hollows between her fingers until it was snug. She squeezed her other hand into the armguard. It wrapped around her skin, as cool and elastic as a snake. To her amazement, the ties
retracted on their own, tightening the brace. She was delirious with joy. Could it possibly be true? Did this magical creature belong to her?

Francis clapped Kenji on the back. “Would you look at that!”

“It appears you are its owner,” Sebastian said.

“How does it feel?” Kenji asked.

Skylark thought she would burst with happiness. “Like I’ve found a long-lost friend!” She worked her hands, clasping and unclasping her fingers. She marvelled at the bow—she couldn’t take her eyes off it—its colours scrolling from blue to red to purple then green and every colour in between, including silver. Will she really help me control my power? Skylark wondered. Holding the bow close, she felt the weight of the moment pressing down on her. The bow had chosen her over all others. They would be together, forever, joined in united purpose against evil. She was no longer an outcast. She belonged. And with that great honour came great responsibility. “I hope I do right by you,” she said.

“Why don’t we go to the practice field and try it out,” Francis suggested.

Skylark slung the bow over her shoulder and it disappeared, matching the colour of her shirt as the quiver had done. Francis reached for her hand but she stopped him.

“I can’t wear training wheels for the rest of my existence,” she said.

“Right. I’m so happy for you.” He winked again and vanished.

She smiled at Kenji, expecting him to jump too, but he didn’t. He had the oddest look on his face, as though wrestling to find the strength to say something. He removed his glasses. It was the first time Skylark had really seen his eyes. They were blue—not like Fran’s sapphires—but dark and simmering.

“I know how hard it is,” he said.

She laughed. “What? This is the best day of my life.”

He took a step toward her. “I know where you were, Skylark. You have to let him go.”

“Who?” she asked. Then it clicked. He was talking about Poe. She turned her back to him, her throat tightening. “Don’t.”

The mouse stiffened. “Oh dear. This isn’t good.”

“It’s nothing,” she deflected, but she couldn’t hide the anger in her voice.

“You can’t have him,” he said. “He’s lost to you. You must accept it. If the Council found out …”

How dare he threaten her with the Council? How dare he get in the way of her love? She whirled around to face him. “And who’s going to tell them?”

The mouse groaned. “Let’s all just take a step back.”

Skylark stared Kenji down. He held her gaze.

“I know how you feel,” he said. “But you’re just torturing yourself. It’ll be easier if you make the decision to let go—especially now. The minute you held the Ephemeral, the minute she accepted you, the contract was signed. You have an obligation to her. You have to be more responsible now. You can’t go chasing after some human boy.”

The bow shimmered in collusion, scrolling through its colours again. The quiver nuzzled against her back. Skylark was unmoved. “You haven’t got a clue what I’m going through.”

“You’re wrong.” Kenji stepped closer. “I know all too well. It’s doomed, Skylark. Nothing can ever come of it. You have to pack up your feelings, put them in a box, and never open it again.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re forcing his soul into a loop. This boy you love … he’s only one incarnation of that soul. When you hold him so close, he can’t evolve beyond what he already is. He can never experience the full breadth of his soul’s expression. By being with him, by tying yourself to him outside of time, you’re preventing him from living out his life’s natural cycle. His soul will never grow
beyond that personality. He will never reincarnate and become what he is meant to become. He’ll be trapped, a butterfly inside a jar, for all eternity. You have to set him free, Skylark. It’s the right thing to do.”