The Dark Passenger (Book 1) (15 page)

“It’s not our baby! He’s not ours! I know he isn’t,” she
sobbed.

Her husband held her to his chest. “Shh,” he soothed. “Don’
say that. You don’ want to go back to tha healer, do ya?”

“But that book, that blanket, they’re not ours. That night
he appeared—”

“Shh,” her husband repeated. “You know we can’t take the
blanket. He’ll never stop cryin’. And I’ve taken care of the book.”

“But what about Edwin—or whoever that is? We should
tell the Council.”

The man shook his head. “Stop talkin’ crazy. You want them
to sacrifice our baby to the hallow tree? That’s all such talk’ll bring. You
love him, Rona, I know you do. And he’s such a sweet and innocent little thing.
Looks just like your father, he does.”

“He looks nothing like my father,” the woman said, wiping
her nose. She took a deep breath, and the fight went out of her. Trying to
crack a smile, she reach over, kissed her husband, and said, “You’re right, I’m
just being crazy. I never expected raising a baby to be so hard. You’re a good
man, Roger Goodfellow, putting up with your crazy old wife.”

From the many scattered images the spirit showed him, Edwin
saw that despite her doubts, the woman had been kind and had cared for him.

There’s more. Show me what you’re hiding!
Edwin
wanted to yell.

Then Edwin saw another vision. It was afternoon, summer by
the look of it; the window was open, and the woman’s hair was pulled back. She
was chopping vegetables in the kitchen, and Edwin saw himself sitting on the floor,
a toddler now. When he reached out to touch the fire under the stove, the woman
grabbed his arm, and he cried out in pain. She was holding his arm tight and
yelling at him, but he was too young to understand her words, and he didn’t
know that he had scared her by reaching so close to the fire.

The spirit rushed to the baby, and they bonded. Edwin hadn’t
even known they could do that without him saying the words. The woman’s hand
began to glow, and she melted into dust. Edwin saw that he had grown taller
that day, too, and his spirit’s essence became fuller.

Edwin had expected to see something bad, but the image of Rona
Goodfellow turning to dust shocked him.

Wha—I don’t—HOW COULD YOU?

As the memory moved forward, now to Hawthorne and a younger
Headmistress Vanora, he became aware of himself mumbling the fortuneteller’s
words, and he could see beyond the spirit’s memory, back to the snow and the
houses of Chardwick. Floating ever higher, he wanted it to end and tried to
scream, but he could no more control what was happening now than he could
control his heartbeat. Tears rolled down his cheeks, but still the words came
until Edwin felt so sick he began heaving.

His voice caught, just once. It was one small but
unmistakable stutter. His mouth continued moving, but he felt a change. The
spell had been broken, and heat began building in his chest. He could feel the
heat growing, but he still had no control over his body. The snow around him
took on a sickening red color as his body began to glow.

The color intensified, turning brighter until it blinded
him. Still his mouth moved, but it was no use. The spirit was breaking free.
Energy began rushing out of him. A burst of light and air pushed forward, windows
exploded, snow incinerated, and he fell to the ground. Blinking his eyes a few
times, he realized that he could control them again. It took a moment for
everything to come into focus.

He saw the moon first, followed by stars. The clouds above
him had vaporized in a perfect circle, and he felt shocked as the weight of
what had just happened sunk in.

Sitting in dirt, he found himself surrounded by a snow-crater.
Even with the windows blown from the buildings around him, there was no yelling
or screaming. There was only the sound of the fair in the distance.

“You petulant boy! You don’t know the forces you messs with,”
the spirit said, hovering in front of Edwin’s face, its form crackling
menacingly.

“I didn’t mean to. It was an accident,” Edwin stammered. “But
how could you do it? How could you kill that woman? And you hid it from me
because you knew it was wrong. How could you kill Ashton after that?”

The spirit recoiled. “The firsst time was an accident. I
knew you would never forgive me if I showed you. And the boy—you needed to
heal. You
had
to heal. I did what I had to do to save uss.”

“You’re a monster,” Edwin cried, and he scrambled up the
snow and ran, leaving the spirit and the crater behind him. He made it several
blocks before his lungs gave out and he had to stop.

As he rested, he realized he wasn’t as tired as he should
have been. That explosion had used more energy than he had ever attempted on
his own, but it was somehow different and for some reason hadn’t drained him
much. The spirit caught up with him and floated almost out of sight. It spoke
first. “You may blame me if you want, but your well-being hass alwayss been my
only concern.”

It was still hard for Edwin to breathe. “I… I don’t even
know what else I can say. I’m going back to Hawthorne. Don’t follow me. I can’t
even look at you right now.” Not arguing, the spirit stayed out of sight, but
Edwin could sense that its presence was never far.

Back at Hawthorne, when he opened the door, he only felt
numb when he saw Headmistress Vanora standing outside her office holding Walt
by the ear. He could only guess how long she had been waiting, but it had been
a while by the look of Walt’s shaking knees.

As she lumbered forward, Walt in tow, Edwin stood at the
door and awaited his fate. With her other hand she grabbed Edwin’s ear and
dragged them both down to the cellar and placed the boys in opposite cells.

“Your friend tried to lie for you,” she said to Edwin. “Let
this be a lesson for the both of you.”

The thought of saying he was out looking for Ashton crossed
his mind, that he had been so distraught at losing his roommate that he couldn’t
sit around and do nothing, but he kept his mouth shut and blamed the spirit for
such a wicked thought. He knew he could be good, truly good, if it would just
leave and get out of his life. An angry tear rolled down his cheek.

Without another word, Headmistress Vanora turned the key at
Walt’s door, then Edwin’s, and stomped back upstairs.

In a home once belonging to Mikel and Adisen Morrisey, five
witches were unpacking their chests. The house was filthy, but the witches’
dresses were unstained, and not a hair atop their heads had fallen out of place.

“I still don’t understand why we must unpack everything
ourselves,” said the triplet in red.

“We shan’t waste magic because you’d rather be lazy, Pyre,” Gretchen
said. “Patience, sisters. We have time to prepare the house before the twins
arrive.”

A second triplet, Meryl, entered with a sponge and bucket,
and began scrubbing the stairs. Her bucket quickly turned to mud. “Our child
did well,” she remarked.

“Yes, as well as we could have ever hoped. Our child herded
the Host to both tents,” Gretchen said.

“He quite fancied you,” said Meryl.

“Yes, and a good thing he went looking for Mina,” Gretchen said.
“Now he’s locked away, safe from getting into more trouble.”

“But you’re wrong,” Mina said, joining them from the other
room. “His growing connection with his
mahr
has not gone unnoticed by
the forces in the mines. I fear that as his powers grow, we should expect
greater instability from the Host’s Tomb.”

Patting Mina’s arm reassuringly, Gretchen said, “I’ve
planned for this possibility, sister. We know the villagers’ ways, and my charm
will protect him from their stolen magics, if necessary. All that remains is to
get the boy to go into the mines, and the Host’s Tomb, its knowledge and legacy,
will be ours for the taking. We shall live forever, sisters.”

“And our powers shall be returned to us,” mused Pyre.

“Our powers and more,” said Meryl, still scrubbing the
stairs. “All that was denied to us so long. Who would have guessed we would
survive the Hosts’ fall and make their legacy our own?”

Gretchen nodded. “Yes, who indeed. But there is still much
work to be done, and our risks have grown now that Mina has infused the boy
with the Host’s language.”

“I still say that wasn’t wise, and it cost us precious magic
we don’t have,” Pyre remarked.

Scoffing, Gretchen said, “The Host’s language will be
necessary for the boy to get past the Gate. Now get back to work, Pyre. The
children arrive tomorrow.”

Four meals passed before Headmistress Vanora let Walt out,
but there were another twenty-three before she opened the door for Edwin.
Carrying a lantern, she said gruffly, “Come on out, boy.”

Edwin’s bones cracked as he followed, and he felt heavy
under the weight of his own stink. The spirit weaved between his legs, but he was
too wary to spurn its advances. At the top of the stairs, Lady Nemain sat in
Headmistress Vanora’s office, and her face lit up when she saw him.

“Edwin, let’s go. I’ve got a big afternoon planned for you,”
Lady Nemain said.

Momentarily taken aback, he asked, “Where are we going?”

“Never you mind,” Nemain said, frowning at Headmistress
Vanora, which Edwin understood to mean that Vanora didn’t know her plans. “But
trust me, you’ll like it.”

Cracking his first smile in days, Edwin said, “Would it be
all right to change first?”

Headmistress Vanora began speaking: “Boy, when your elder
says now, she means now, not—”

Lady Nemain held up her hand in Headmistress Vanora’s face,
and said, “You may have five minutes, dear.”

Edwin feared to look to Headmistress Vanora for confirmation
and rushed from the room. On the second floor the hall was empty, but Edwin
heard a few stifled voices behind closed doors.

Though his room at Hawthorne had always been sparse, it felt
emptier without Walt and Ashton there. With no time to waste, Edwin grabbed a
change of clothes and towel, rinsed off quickly in the basin, threw on his
cloak and a clean uniform, and met Lady Nemain downstairs. Headmistress Vanora
was sitting in her office holding her hourglass, looking disappointed that he
hadn’t taken longer.

“Goodbye, Headmistress,” Lady Nemain said as she grabbed
Edwin’s hand and escorted him from the room.

Outside, the day was overcast and snowing, and the streets
were as empty and cold as they had been before the fair. Still wet from
washing, Edwin shivered under his cloak. “You certainly haven’t made a friend
of the Headmistress,” Nemain remarked.

“I know. Can you tell me where we’re going now?” Edwin
asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“The Lucent’s mansion. I want you to see something,” Lady
Nemain replied, hardly able to keep her own excitement out of her voice. “I
tried coming for you sooner, but Vanora insisted that you be punished for
sneaking out. Was it worth it?”

Seeing that Lady Nemain had intended the question pleasantly
enough, Edwin replied, “Absolutely. I had never been to the fair before. Did
they find Ashton?”

A crack appeared in her armor of pleasantry. “No, there has
been no sign of him. The Headmistress has taken it especially hard.”

“That’s too bad,” Edwin said. Though it pained him to talk
about Ashton, his time in the cellar had given him a chance to plan his next
move, and Lady Nemain coming for him was an opportunity—but only if he
could act normal and dispel any suspicions she might have about him. Letting an
appropriate amount of time pass, he asked, “What about Walt and Sam? Their
family came last week?”

“Yes, their aunts have taken residence at the Morrisey House,
which is Walt and Sam’s now. An esteemed family, the Morriseys. It’s hard to
believe Mikel and Adisen have barely been gone a season.”

“Why didn’t the Lucent take Sam and Walt to stay with him?”
Edwin asked.

“The Lucent must show strength, now more than ever, and he
can’t be seen as partial to family. It’s a good thing their aunts have come
down from Newick. I’ve noticed that you and Walt have grown close; I’m sure
you’ll be welcome to visit anytime.”

A weird look crossed her face, and Edwin asked, “What
wrong?”

Knowing that she had been caught, Lady Nemain blushed. “Oh,
nothing… It’s just… Well, I had a son, and he would be a little older than you
if he hadn’t… you know.”

“His name was Finn, wasn’t it?” Edwin asked, and Lady Nemain
nodded. “What happened to him?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard what happened fifteen years ago? We
had word there was something strange in the mines, and I went to investigate.
My husband had Finn when they blew the horn. Our house was right by the square,
and they were some of the first outside. After destroying our beloved Great
Tree, that monster killed them.” She wiped away a tear. “But that was many
years ago now.”

“I’m very sorry, Lady Nemain,” Edwin said, and he grabbed
her hand, surprising even himself. “Is that when you became the Mistress of
Arms?”

Nemain nodded. “I was always destined for the Council. Our
last Master also passed that night with my Finn, and I convinced the Lucent my
time to join the Council had come. Some people thought I wasn’t the right
person to fill that seat, but I’ve proved them all wrong. I train harder than
anyone in Chardwick. You know, Edwin, you have more natural ability with the
Fury than anybody I’ve ever known. My seat could be yours someday.” Edwin
smiled awkwardly, and she added, “I’m serious! That’s partially what I wanted
to show you today. Come, we’re almost to the mansion. I didn’t tell anyone I
was bringing you, so try not to be loud.”

Edwin nodded, and Lady Nemain picked up her pace. They
crossed the village square quickly, and entered the Lucent’s mansion silently,
with Lady Nemain getting them past the guards with a wave of her hand.

“This place is huge,” Edwin whispered, but Lady Nemain
hushed him. All of the Medgard’s inn could have fit in the antechamber, and he
followed her up a wide marble staircase and down a long hall. Stopping at a
door on the right, she put one finger up to her lips, quietly pushed the door
open, and they slid inside, at which point Edwin had to stop himself from
gasping. Rather than a room, the door opened onto a narrow viewing area, and he
found himself looking over a ledge at an arena below with a scene that shocked
him.

“Good, the Lucent isn’t here,” Lady Nemain said, visibly
relaxing. “And better still, the Shades are training.”

“Who are they?” Edwin asked, moving to the ledge to get a
closer look.

“Don’t get too close!” Lady Nemain said, holding him back
just in time for a burst of fire to go sweeping by his face, almost close
enough to singe his hair.

“What—How did they—?” Edwin stammered, but he
already knew the answer and his heart leapt.
They had powers like he did.

Two boys stood back-to-back in the middle of the
arena—brothers, by the look of it, each with a shock of flaming red hair—shooting
streams of fire at two girls. One girl with jet-black hair ducked behind one of
the arena’s many stone barriers, but the other girl, short and with a shaved
head, licked a black powder from her finger and the air around her shimmered. Before
the fire reached her, she raised a funnel of wind that grabbed the fire and
hurled it back to the brothers.

“Aren’t they great?” Lady Nemain asked, placing her hand
proudly on his shoulder. “They cost the Lucent a fortune, but they’re worth
every bloodstone. Look at how strong they are.”

“Where did they come from?” Edwin asked.

“Newick, of course. They’re Shades—the traders in
Newick crush the rock from the mines to make spice. For most people it’s a
drug, a scourge, highly addictive; the Council banned spice from Chardwick ages
ago. But sometimes, on the rare occasion, spice does…
this
. These four
would have been captains in the Caretaker’s Guard in Newick, but the Lucent
made the Caretaker a deal he couldn’t refuse. And now, the next time something
comes from the mines, we’ll be ready.”

The girl with the long black hair came out from behind the
stone barrier and, from a small puddle, commanded a wall of water to hover in
front of her, which she used as a shield against every oncoming fireball.

“They all control one resource,” Edwin commented.

“That’s right. The two boys are firewielders, obviously. The
girl with the black hair controls water, and the bald one air. The bald one cut
off all her hair because it kept getting in the way. I was hoping the Lucent
could negotiate a earthmover or seer, but there’s only one earthmover remaining
in the Caretaker’s Guard, and they say there hasn’t been a seer in
generations.”

“And you say they get these powers from crushed rocks from
the mines?” Edwin asked, and Lady Nemain nodded. “Why are you showing me this?”

Lady Nemain shifted away from the ledge uncomfortably. “There’s
a lot you missed up on that ledge, Edwin…. I wanted you to see what we’re up
against. You see, we have a dark history with the unnatural, and so far we have
fought back everything that’s come at us from the mines…. Sending you up to the
ledge and away from Chardwick and our traditions was a mistake—I told the
Council they should let me raise you, but Carrion had his allies and I hadn’t
the votes. I wanted you to see why people here are so paranoid, and why you
must start following the rules.”

“This is about me sneaking off to the fair?” Edwin asked.

 “Yes… But no, it’s more than that. My sister Rona was
your mother, and I care about you. You’re my family, my only… since…. And I see
my sister’s greatness in you. She was gifted with the Fury too, you know,
before she gave it all up and had you. Edwin, if you let people get to know
you, let them learn that you’re just a boy, they would let you come live with
me. Wouldn’t you like that? And I could teach you everything I know about the
Fury, and you could become an acolyte and maybe even be on the Council one
day.”

Edwin heard what Lady Nemain was implying, but he had to
ask: “Do people think I’m off—that there’s something the matter with me?”

She shook her head vigorously, and Edwin saw that she was
crying. “No, no dear, it’s not that. Not exactly. You don’t understand, I see
you don’t, and I wish I could explain it to you, I really wish I could. But you
see”—she looked down, saw that the Shades had stopped practicing and were
watching him, and dropped her voice—“Edwin, there are rules here. We’re
raised to think that—but you’re just a boy! A little boy like my—do
you understand what I’m trying to say Edwin?”

Edwin shook his head, utterly confused.

“Oh Edwin, just be careful! Please, try harder to do what’s
expected of you.”

Though unsure what she meant, Edwin said, “I can do that.
I’ll do better.”

“Good, good. That’s good,” she said. His words seemed to
calm her down, and her smile quickly returned. To the Shades below, she said,
“That’s great work. The Lucent will be pleased to see you’ve made so much
progress.”

One of the boys, who spoke with the aloof accent of someone
from Newick, said, “We’ve never had such access to spice. Our powers grow every
day.” He inclined his head forward in thanks, and Lady Nemain returned the
gesture.

Squeezing Edwin’s shoulder, she said, “Come on, let’s get
out of here.” As she led Edwin from the room, he turned one last time over his
shoulder, and saw that the Shades were still staring at him.