The Dark Passenger (Book 1) (4 page)

Despite her large size, Headmistress Vanora moved quickly up
the stairs, and the stairs made a point of complaining loudly. Mindful not to
bang his hand against the railing, he kept it close to his chest. For days his
fear had kept him from taking off his gloves even once, and his hands itched to
be set free.

Down the hall on the second floor, Headmistress Vanora
stopped and opened the third door on the right. “This will be your room for the
time being. You’re lucky and will room with two boys. With so many orphaned
children these days it is an unfortunate truth that we sometimes have no choice
but to room boys with girls.”

Unceremoniously, she turned to leave.

Edwin hadn’t meant to ask so early, but the words were out
of his mouth before he could stop himself. “I do have one question,
Headmistress, if you don’t mind. I was wondering if you knew anything about my
real parents.”

The Headmistress scowled. “That’s another rule: no
questions.”

“Maybe just my last name, then?” he asked. He couldn’t make
eye contact. “I don’t guess it’s Medgard anymore.”

“Indeed it is, and will be until we can find you a new
family. Now that’s enough.” She turned fast on her heels and left.

Standing under the doorway and still holding his bag to his
chest, Edwin watched her go.

*   *   *

The furniture in Edwin’s room was plain but adequate; three
beds filled most of the space, each with a small wardrobe resting at its foot.
The lines on all three beds were crisp and he couldn’t tell which was to be
his, so he picked the bed in the middle, figuring it to be the one no one would
want. After placing his bag on the bed, he took his blanket off his shoulders
and watched its iridescent black folds glittering in the sunlight coming in
through the window. Bitterly, to himself, he mumbled, “
I don’t like seeing
children, I don’t like hearing children, and I don’t like smelling children.
Psh. Old bat. And my blanket isn’t
nasty
.” A twinge of cold air began crawling
up his leg, and he froze. The spirit. It floated up to his ear and whispered,
and he nodded his head almost imperceptibly. “I know you’re here,” he said to
the room.

“Don’t talk so loud,” a small voice whispered back. “She’ll
hear you.”

Edwin knelt down by the bed closest to the window and saw a
pale boy. The boy looked to be around his age with unruly blond hair and fat
chipmunk cheeks. He wore a gray uniform, was lying on a pillow, and his hand
held open a book, in front of which was a plain brown stick—a bookmark,
maybe. Edwin felt the spirit distancing itself. The boy was staring at him, and
Edwin felt his face burn red.

Trying not to stutter, Edwin said, “Erm. I didn’t think anyone
was supposed to be here. Headmistress Vanora said something about
apprenticeships?”

“I’m sick,” said the boy, who then, for show, coughed a
little. “But the Headmistress doesn’t believe in excuses. I don’t think she
much believes that people can be sick either. I’ve never once even seen her
with a cold.” He coughed again.

“I see…”

“It’s good to meet you. I’m Walt.” The boy closed his book.

“I’m—”

“Edwin,” the boy interrupted. “Everyone knew you were coming
down. The Medgards sent word a week ago that they’d be down as soon as the pass
cleared.”

“Oh,” Edwin replied. His voice cracked. He had never met
another boy his own age before.

From beneath the bed Walt reached out for Edwin’s hand. “I
wish I could come out and introduce myself properly. Hiding under a bed isn’t
usually how I like to meet people, but I can’t move. Vanora would lock me up
for a week if she heard me moving around up here.”

“Lock you up where?”

“The cellar. This building used to be a distillery, you
know. They used to keep the spirits in the cellar ’cause the temperature stays
cold down there. The cellar can get pretty lonely pretty fast… Wait, don’t go.”
Edwin stopped pulling away from the bed. Walt continued, “It’ll be a while
before the others get back. Stay, chat a little.”

Edwin laid his stomach back on the floor. “Chat?”

“You know, talk. You come from the Medgards’ inn, right?
They don’t talk up there?”

“No, not even with g-guests. They said getting away from
people was part of the reason they moved to the ledge. Managing the inn was
only a way to make money.”

“I used to look at the lights from the Medgards’ inn from my
roof at night. Lots of us down here do that. When it’s cloudy the Medgards’ inn
is the only thing in the sky to see, unless the guards outside the Black Keep
have their lanterns on, of course. But that’s less often. Light isn’t cheap.” Edwin
didn’t say anything, so Walt continued. “Me, I’m from here. I probably know
everyone in Chardwick. And then last month my parents disappeared. You’ve heard
of the disappearances? A lot of people have gone missing lately. Dark times,
the Lucent says.”

Chatting was making Edwin feel worse by the minute, and he
couldn’t control his shaking. “Erm, I r-really should unpack,” he said and
pushed himself up with his good hand.

“That’s all right,” Walt replied, and Edwin heard an almost
silent thud as he reopened his book.

Before sitting down on his bed, exhausted, Edwin grabbed his
bag off his bed and dumped everything the Medgards had given him into his
wardrobe. His hand ached under his glove. Outside the window he had the
familiar view of sheer rock. Snow covered every crevice, giving the jagged gray
rock an almost soft pillow-capped look. The Medgards had probably already made
their way back through Chardwick’s dirty little winding streets and were
heading up the pass.

“Uniforms are under Ashton’s bed,” Walt said. “Ashton’s got
the other bed and likes to think he’s in charge. He’s hoarded all the extra
uniforms, so you’d best get one before he gets back.”

Digging under the bed closest to the door, much of what Edwin
found was unrecognizable, but he did find a pair of small black gloves. In the
back were two piles of neatly folded gray uniforms, which had been separated
into large and small sizes. Edwin pulled out a small one, and Walt said, “Don’t
mention to anyone how bad they look. Nemain makes them herself, and her
feelings get hurt pretty easily.”

“Nemain?” Edwin squeaked.

“You don’t know who the Lady Nemain is? The Medgards sure
didn’t teach you much up on that ledge. Lady Nemain is the Lucent’s ward.
Everyone says she was a real beauty in her day, but now she’s tough as nails. She
spends most of her time training, war stuff and the like.”

“Lucent Weston only has one ward?” Edwin asked, trying to keep
the stutter out of his voice.

“Yep,” Walt replied pleasantly, as though glad to be
helpful. Only a few minutes ago Edwin had heard the Medgards tell Headmistress Vanora
that the Lucent’s ward had brought him to the inn, and Edwin felt overwhelmed.
He was learning more about himself in this one day than he had in the last
decade with the Medgards.

Inspecting the uniform, Edwin could tell that even the small
would be huge on him. He changed clothes quickly, but was hesitant to change
gloves. He thought it would be best to wait until he was alone.

Edwin lay back on his bed and again closed his eyes. He had
just about drifted off to sleep when he heard Walt whisper, “Edwin? What’s your
story?”

“Don’t have one.”

“What about your real parents?”

Edwin’s body tensed, and he wondered why this boy wouldn’t
leave him alone. If the spirit thought he had made a friend, he knew it would
use it against him. “I don’t know what happened to my parents. I never knew
them.”

“And you’ve been with the Medgards this whole time?”

“Uh-huh. They took me in when I was a baby.”

“I’ve met the Medgards before at the winter fair. You know,
when all the traders from Newick come down. Just a few more weeks before we’ll
have to get ready for this year’s fair. Why didn’t you ever come down? The Medgards
seemed nice, kind of stiff though. So you’ve never had a real family? Friends?”
The boy was talking a mile a minute.

“Nope,” Edwin said.

“That’s sad. Even though my parents are gone, at least I
still have Sam. Sam and I are twins,” he added, seeing Edwin’s confused look.
“And my aunts should be coming to get us any day now. So why did the Medgards
bring you back?”

Edwin was so tired he felt dizzy. “My foster mother saw me doing
something she didn’t like.”

“Like what?”

“Killing a cat.” That was true enough.

Walt was no longer under his bed when Edwin woke. Edwin’s
head hurt and he rubbed the bridge of his nose, but he needed to get up. He
hadn’t even reached the door before he heard that old familiar voice.

“You wake,” the spirit hissed in its deep but tenuous voice,
not even a whisper.

Warily, Edwin replied, “Shut up and leave me alone.”

“Now that wouldn’t be any fun. Bessides, I haven’t seen you
since yessterday. I’ve been lonely.”

“I’ve been asleep since yesterday?” Edwin cried. Then,
remembering his anger, he added, “And what have you been doing? Just watching and
waiting for me to wake up so you can start more trouble? Get out and give me a
moment’s peace.”

“You don’t want peace. You hunger. It’s written all over
your haggard little face. Don’t try to deny it.” Its words made Edwin grimace. “And
bessides, you alwayss feel better when I’m near. You say so yoursself. Didn’t
you like our little experimentss?” Black smoke fell from the ceiling and began
to circle Edwin slowly, caressing Edwin’s body with wisps of smoke, comforting
him like only it could. “You know you did. A curious boy like you? It was
beyond what you ever imagined.”

Edwin asked, his voice rising slightly, “You want me to
thank you for that? Look at my hand!” With one quick movement he pulled the
glove off his left hand. It was looking grayer and more shriveled than ever,
and the nails had fallen off. Time was aiding its atrophy.

The spirit pulled back a moment, pained. “I told you to
stop. You pusshed too hard and hadn’t abssorbed enough. Didn’t I tell you where
ambition and pride would get you?” The smoke resumed its circling. “But let’s
not quarrel. Play nice and I will show you how we can fix that.”

“How? Look at it! It’s ruined.”

“Don’t assk stupid questions. You know how.”

The spirit was right, and Edwin remembered yesterday when
the creature had chosen to show him Walt. Surely it hadn’t been trying to
suggest…. Edwin didn’t want to finish the thought.

“The cat was it,” Edwin said. Realizing how much he had let
his voice rise, he made himself whisper. “I can’t ever do that again.”

“You can and you will. It wass only a cat.”

“She didn’t deserve that.”

“Neither did yessterday’s breakfast. Bacon doesn’t grow on
treess, you know. But come now, I can see you’re in pain.”

“But—”

“You musst heal yoursself.”

“How are we going to find life down here? This place is dead.
Its cleanliness hurts my skin,” Edwin said.

“This place is many things, but dead is not one of them.”

Swatting at its essence, Edwin shook his head. “I told you,
no people. Ever.”

“Of coursse not,” the spirit replied coyly. It almost
sounded like it was smirking. “But you know I’ll take care of you.”

“I don’t want you to take care of me. You only know how to
threaten and cause trouble. Breaking things if I ignore you, the constant
distractions when I tried to talk to the Medgards or visitors at the inn… And
now look at me. If anyone speaks to me, my heart races because I’m afraid
you’ll be found out.”

“But think of all you’ve learned,” the spirit said. “And
think of all there iss more to learn. Your mother left you a book—”

Edwin’s jaw dropped. “We aren’t going hunting for any lost
book.”

The spirit’s essence crackled a menacing red. “If you would
have snuck down to Chardwick like I said, we could have found the book and
maybe none of thiss would have happened. You never lissten.”

“I don’t listen because you’re evil! I’m done learning from
you. And you’re done showing me nightmares of a mother I’ve never known to
trick me into—” He couldn’t say the word.

“Magic,” the spirit said for him. “And I didn’t trick you.
You
want
a family. A real one. I know the book your mother left you will
help you find that.”

“I never wanted that kind of family. I never wanted
this
.”
He again shook his gray hand in front of the spirit.

“You lie even to yourself, but I fear there iss no time for
thiss. You’re in danger.”

Edwin was surprised by the spirit’s sudden change in tone.
“Because of my hand?”

Gossamer threads worked its way into the smoke like lightning.
For a moment it looked like the outline of a face. It had only started making
shapes in the last few months, and giant eyes filled the creature’s essence. “Chardwick
is more than it seems. Unfamiliar forces pull at my essence,” the spirit said,
static coursing through its smoky essence. The spirit flew under his bed and
came back with the papers Edwin had found outside Hawthorne the day before.
“Read thesse.”

The pages were broken up into separate articles, but in the
center of the front page Edwin saw an etching of two corpses. He knew that’s
where the spirit meant for him to begin reading.

After a month of searching, Lucent Weston asks for calm
after the bodies of Mikel and Adisen Morrisey were found dead in the mines,
their bodies drained of life.

“It happened right in the middle of the Rosen Tunnel,”
said Molly Shurfot after discovering the Morrisey’s remains. “I walk that
tunnel everyday. Almost tripped over them, I did. I want to know how this could
happen to two from the Lucent’s inner circle.”

The Morriseys are not the first to die under strange
circumstances in the mines these last several years. One respected man, asking
not to be named, suggests that Chardwick should abandon the mines all together.

“All this talk about a sacred duty to protect people from
what lies within the mines is hogwash. We’re down there because it’s
profitable. But so many of our brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, sons
and daughters have died in the mines that I think it’s time to say enough is
enough. If we all marched up the pass, surely the Caretaker of Newick wouldn’t
stop us.”

Such talk, of course, is treason, and this reporter does
not endorse such views. Reminding us that these are dark times, the Lucent
vowed to redouble sacrifices to the hallow tree…

“Why are you showing me this?” Edwin asked.

“On the way down the pass my essence was drawn to the
tunnel. Their deaths left impressionss.”

“What does that mean? And what does this paper mean when it
says ‘their bodies drained of life’?” he asked, fearing he already knew the
answer.

“Something killed them. Something—”

“Like you?”

The smoke crackled indignantly. “Not like me. They didn’t
turn to dusst, but the life wass drained from their bodiess. I senssed this
other creature in the miness. This thing hass power like ours, but it’s small
and alone. I felt where it had floated, high in the air above the tunnel floor.”

“Another thing like you,” Edwin said, feeling sick at the
thought.

“Nooo, it’s different. I’m sure of that, but there iss a
connection. I wass drawn to its kill.”

Edwin moaned, and the spirit’s essence crackled in a way
that told Edwin that it didn’t like the news of this other creature much
either. “Did you see anything else?” he asked.

The spirit was still a moment. “There was one more thing, but
you’re not going to like it,” it said.

“What is it?” Edwin asked, unsure he really wanted to know.

“I found the Morriseys’ housse. I wondered why this thing
had chosen to drain these particular villagerss of life. I didn’t find an
answer, but insside their house I saw a picture. It wass a picture of the boy
under your bed.”

“Walt? I thought he said his parents disappeared.”

“Perhapss the boy didn’t want to burden you with their
deaths,” the spirit said as it circled and caressed him.

Edwin shook his head, confused. Walt’s parents were in the
paper, so surely he knew they hadn’t only disappeared. He didn’t think the
spirit’s explanation was very convincing.

A moment later the spirit’s movements suddenly stopped.
Whispering in its ethereal voice, it said: “We had better go. Someone iss
coming. When will I be alone with you again?”

Hastily climbing to his feet, Edwin said, “I don’t know when
I’ll be able to get away.” He didn’t say that he wasn’t sure he wanted to find
time to be alone with the spirit, no matter how much danger they were in.

“Make it soon. This place is too clean, and it hurtss my
being. I can take care of freeing uss,” the spirit purred, “if you like.”

“No…” said Edwin, but his voice hesitated more than he would
have liked. “I can wait a few more days if I have to.”

“Have it your way. In the meantime, I suggesst you eat the
beanss tonight. They will help.”

Edwin didn’t have time to ask. The smoke had faded, but
Edwin still felt the spirit nearby.

*   *   *

Headmistress Vanora held open the door and stared down at
Edwin, her girth filling the doorframe. Her eyes narrow, she said, “You’re
awake. Who’s up here with you?”

Edwin’s heart raced. He opened his mouth, but he only
managed a small clucking sound.

“Come on, out with it.”

He tried to speak, but couldn’t, not with her yelling at him.
He shook his head, as if he could shake away being timid.

“Answer me when I speak to you. Come on now. Speak!” She
grabbed him by the shoulders and shook.

“N-no-no one, Headmistress. No one is here.”

“Then whom were you talking to?”

“M-mys-myself,” Edwin stuttered, and Headmistress Vanora
stopped shaking him.

“Don’t disturb me again,” she growled, storming away and
slamming the door behind her.

Alone again, Edwin rocked back-and-forth while holding his
legs to his chest. He wished he could talk to other people as easily as he
could the spirit. No sooner had his heart stopped racing than Walt burst in.

“You’re awake!” he exclaimed.

Edwin shrunk back, surprised by the abrupt entrance. “You’re
really tall,” he said.

“No, you’re just really short,” Walt said, smiling.

Glancing down, Edwin noticed two small eyes staring at him.
It was the stick he had assumed yesterday was a bookmark; it was hanging from
Walt’s shirt from its legs. Its eyes were clustered at one end, and when Walt
petted the area that must have been its head, it crawled back down Walt’s shirt
and into his pocket.

Walt looked from side-to-side guiltily. “Like him?”

Edwin nodded but worried the spirit would think it was
another life they could take.

“His name is Walker. He never comes out on his own. I guess
he must be curious about you.”

“What is he?” Edwin asked.

“He’s my stick-bug. You won’t tell anyone, right? No one
knows I have him.”

“I’ve n-never seen a stick-bug before,” Edwin said, still stuttering.
Down the hall Edwin heard the sound of footsteps.

“That must be the others. They weren’t far behind me.” The
sound of footsteps was now close enough that Edwin didn’t dare say another
word.

A dozen boys and girls began filing past the open door. They
kept their heads down, like they didn’t trust themselves to look at each other,
but they couldn’t help but glance at Edwin as they passed. Headmistress Vanora
had said Hawthorne was full, but Edwin was still surprised to see so many other
children. The last boy to shuffle down the hall came in and shut the door
behind him.

He eyed Edwin suspiciously, but he chose to address Walt
first. In a high shrill voice, he said, “It seems you decided not to walk back with
us again.” The boy was older, had a narrow face, a pinched nose, and was a head
shorter than Walt. He already had a full beard that he tried to hide with close
shaving, and his face was lined with nicks and cuts.

Walt shrugged and said, “The new boy’s awake.”

Edwin tried to hide that he was shaking nervously as he
pulled himself off his bed.

“Edwin, this is Ash. He’s—”

“Ashton,” the older boy corrected, and he extended his hand.
Edwin shook it quickly and awkwardly. He wasn’t used to touching other people.

Walt mimicked Ashton’s tone and rolled his eyes: “Sorry,
Ashton
.
Like I was saying—”

“Ashton Hotraben. I am Headmistress Vanora’s Oculus, so I
really should be doing the introductions.”

Edwin gulped and looked at Walt. “What’s an Oculus?” he
asked.

Ashton haughtily raised his little nose to the air. “We
Oculi are Hawthorne’s best, entrusted with the great responsibility of keeping
order in the rooms. We’re Headmistress Vanora’s eyes and ears, really.”

“It means he’s a snitch,” Walt whispered in Edwin’s ear,
feigning discretion.

Ashton glared at Walt, but continued: “As I was saying, I am
the Oculus for this and another room. In fact, I am the Senior Oculus for all
of Hawthorne.” He pointed to a small homemade button clipped to his jacket.
Edwin squinted to read it:

Ashton Hotraben

Hawthorne Orphanage for Displaced Children

Oculus Superior

“Yes, Ashton is
very
important, senior to Hawthorne’s
other snitch,” Walt taunted, but Ashton wouldn’t be baited.

“Being an Oculus is quite an honor,” Ashton said. “It is a
show of trust by our Headmistress. Tell me, how old are you?”

“Fifteen,” Edwin replied.

“Oh, you look much younger,” the boy chirped, “but that
does
mean you’re old enough to be eligible. You could become an Oculus yourself, in
time. As I said, we Oculi are entrusted with a lot of responsibility. For
instance, we are allowed to leave our rooms at night, and we do so often to
find rule-breakers.”

“He’s lying,” Walt whispered while Ashton continued talking.
“He can’t hear a thing over his own snoring.”

“We also have the privilege to come and go as we please,”
Ashton added, glaring at Walt. “The Headmistress rewards those who follow the
rules, and you would do well to follow my example.”