The Dark Passenger (Book 1) (7 page)

Edwin stared at her dumbly, having no idea what she was
talking about.

“And then Master Carrion wants to see you here. I couldn’t
deny him, unfortunately. Potions are important to many trades, and he has his
allies on the Council. But it’s only a few days a week. That still leaves time
for an apprenticeship. The Council will be expecting you to have one.”

Edwin nodded, but was distracted by a cloud of smoke
climbing up the wall of boxes behind Lady Nemain’s head. She was still talking,
but Edwin couldn’t focus on what she was saying. He wondered what the creature
wanted or might do. A few moments later he met Lady Nemain’s gaze and gave a
jump.

“Huh?” he said. She was waiting for him.

“I asked what you like to do. Do you have any talents?”

He shrugged and tried to keep his eyes off the spirit.

“I know every person in Chardwick. If there’s anything you’d
like to do, or anything you’d like to learn, you have only to ask.”

Edwin could tell that he was being given a great opportunity
here, but he didn’t know what to ask for. Then—

“I like animals,” he offered.

“Animals?” she repeated, frowning. “We don’t have much
livestock here in Chardwick. Newick uses beasts to haul their carts down the
pass, but they look after their own and we trade for our meat. The salt we
quarry from the mines keeps it from spoiling, and we really only have animals
in Chardwick a few times a year for the slaughters.”

“Oh,” Edwin said, disappointed. His mouth felt dry, and he
was anxious to leave; the spirit was now circling just above Lady Nemain’s
head.

“Is everything all right, Edwin? You seem distracted. You
know, if you’re having some sort of trouble adjusting, you can tell me. Maybe I
can help.”

“No, I’m fine,” Edwin squeaked. “I just… people… make me
nervous.”

Nemain looked at him so intently, so kindly, that he worried
she was going to cry. But she held herself together, and said, “I think I know
just the place for you.”

*   *   *

At the end of the day, Edwin exited Master Carrion’s shop to
find Walt waiting for him on White Foot Way. A light snow fluttered in the wind
that was so slight that it seemed to disappear before it reached the ground.
The sun had already set and all the other children were gone.

“Hi Nemain,” Walt said in a tone that Edwin thought was too
casual.

“Hello, Walt,” Lady Nemain replied. “I’ll leave you two boys
to yourselves.”

“Good night,” Walt said.

Lady Nemain handed Edwin a pile of books, and Walt rushed
forward to help carry them. Walt waited until she was out of earshot before he
said, “Where were you all day?”

Edwin was exhausted after his day talking with Lady Nemain
and walking all over Chardwick to collect these books. It hadn’t help that the
spirit had taunted him the entire day. “I’ve been with Lady Nemain. She gave me
these b-b-books to try to learn what I missed up at the inn,” Edwin replied.

“The history of Chardwick? You didn’t miss much. Listen, you
have a problem. Do you remember the tree you stepped on this morning? Someone
noticed. The Lucent is giving a speech this evening.”

The strain in Walt’s voice was contagious. “You think the
speech is about the tree?” Edwin asked, his voice shaking slightly. He wondered
if the spirit was listening. He could sense it nearby.

“It could be last night’s attack…” Walt conceded. “But
everyone’s already talking about the tree, and everyone knows that creature got
nowhere near the village square.”

“But no one saw me step on it,” Edwin stammered. “And
besides, it was an accident!”

“It doesn’t matter that it was an accident. The tree is
sacred
.”

“How can a tree be sacred?”

Walt shrugged. “This tree is different. It’s special.
There’s not another one like it in all the world. One stone cut from its amber
is worth more than all the minerals quarried from the mines in a whole year.”

Edwin’s skin itched under his new Hawthorne uniform. He
couldn’t understand why they would be more concerned about a silly tree than the
dead man lying next to it, but he was glad for Walt’s help. “What should I do?”
he asked.

“Don’t tell anyone it was you. Seriously, not anyone. If
anyone mentions it, act like you don’t know anything about it. People might
question you since you’re new here. Just tell them you were with me.”

“But I
was
with you.”

“Exactly,” Walt replied. “And I’ll tell them we didn’t go
anywhere near it.”

There were few other people on the road as Edwin and Walt
made their way through the village, but the air was tense. Anxiety was written
on the faces of the men and women they saw returning from the mines, as well as
on the opaque expressions of the people staring at him out their windows. Edwin
kept his head down; it was the first time in his life that he wanted to be shorter—small
enough that he could disappear. The more they walked, the more uncomfortable he
felt, and he tried to console himself with the fact that at least the tree was
distracting him from the spirit and his hand.

“Everyone is staring at you,” Walt said, echoing his own
thoughts.

“I n-noticed,” Edwin replied.

“Don’t worry. They would stare at you no matter what. Stop
looking so guilty. Everything is going to be all right. Try smiling. Act like I
just said something funny.”

“What?”

Walt began laughing. It came out more like a bark, but it
was still pretty convincing. “Oh Edwin, you’re hilarious,” he cried.

Edwin wanted to look less uncomfortable, but the more he worried,
the more awkward he was sure he looked. Walt must have noticed because he
suggested they race back to Hawthorne.

“Sure,” he replied, taking off.

Edwin dropped one of his books and Walt easily won, but even
so Walt teased Edwin for trying to get a head start.

*   *   *

Headmistress Vanora came out of her office at the sound of
Edwin and Walt opening the front door. “Where have you two been?” she said,
scowling. “The Lucent’s speech is tonight, and you both missed cleaning duty.
Ashton did it all himself, bless him.”

“Sorry, Headmistress Vanora,” Walt said. “Edwin didn’t know
about cleaning du—”

“I don’t want to hear excuses,” Headmistress Vanora said. “Now
hurry upstairs and get ready.”

Upstairs, Ashton was in a foul but smug mood, glad that it
was he who had pleased the Headmistress. A few minutes later, everyone from
Hawthorne was back outside, walking together to the village square.
Headmistress Vanora led the way, and somehow Edwin and Walt ended up right
behind her. Looking back, Edwin saw the other children huddled together in a
tightly moving circle.

“He didn’t!” shrieked the girl with pigtails, which was
followed by more hushed whispering. Walt nudged his arm. “Ignore them,” he
said.

The village square was more crowded than Edwin could have
imagined. Headmistress Vanora tried to lead everyone forward, but the children
scattered, heading to their own corners. She scowled, but Edwin could see that
she wasn’t really mad. She was glad to be rid of the lot of them. Only her
Oculi, Ashton and the girl with pigtails, stayed behind.

Edwin followed Walt through the crowd of fretted villagers. The
miners were covered in soot and their expressions seemed warier than they had
this morning. “What d-do you see?” Edwin asked Walt. He couldn’t see over the
wall of shoulders.

“There’s a stage over by the Lucent’s mansion, but so far it’s
empty. Do you want to get closer?”

Edwin nodded and led the way. A benefit of being small was
that Edwin found it easy to weave around people’s feet, and with his forward
momentum, he was able to drag Walt behind him. But it wasn’t until they reached
the tree, which someone had decided to rope off, that he was able to tell how
far he’d gone. Some of the snow had been cleared from around the tree’s
branches, and he saw where his foot had partially snapped its thin trunk. The
dead man’s body was gone, and the snow was scraped clean.

“Who would do such a thing?” he heard a man say as he shoved
past.

A few steps more and Walt stopped him. “The Lucent is
climbing on stage.”

“I still can’t see anything,” Edwin complained.

“Turn around. Come on, just do it,” Walt said. Edwin turned,
and Walt placed his hands underneath Edwin’s arms and hoisted him up and onto
his shoulders.

“What are you—” Edwin cried, feeling exposed. But the
view over Walt’s shoulders was good enough to make him shut his mouth.

Up on the last step of the platform, Edwin saw a
bespectacled old man shuffling forward with a kind of ageless grace. The old
man was dressed in the whitest of robes and was flanked by two acolytes. The
acolytes kept their heads bowed so low that their hoods hung over their faces,
and Edwin could only see the red of their robes.

Reaching the center podium, the Lucent stopped and clasped
his hands together. Being so old, Edwin had expected the man’s voice to be coarse
and harsh, but instead its pure, clean melody put him and everyone else in
Chardwick at ease. “My brethren, as many of you have already heard, the hallow
tree, our protector, was desecrated this very day.” A gasp lingered in the air.
“We know not who would do such a thing, but its portent could not be clearer:
dark forces gather at our doorsteps.”

Edwin’s mouth was dry, and he could barely swallow. He had
only been walking; he hadn’t meant anything by it, and he couldn’t understand
why everyone was upset by a tiny little tree. But from Walt’s shoulders he
could see the villagers’ distressed faces, and he knew he would face serious
consequences if anyone ever found out. Consumed by his own worries, Edwin
missed much of what the Lucent said until he heard the Lucent mention the
other, older tree of Chardwick.

“…for much seemed lost with the loss of the mother tree, our
ancient hallow tree, those fifteen years past. But our village survived then,
and it will survive now. Now with the hallow tree weakened, it is with a heavy
heart that I warn that the unexplainable deaths that continue to befall our
people, though already too high, may rise. To you who have recently lost a
loved one, we all share your pain. But the hallow tree is life, and its growth
will continue to push the dark forces from our village and back into the
mines.”

Edwin felt ill. He wondered how a little tree could push the
‘dark forces’ from Chardwick and what it had to do with the dead man he had
seen earlier that day.

The Lucent continued: “Sadly, the crime against our beloved
protector also means that the bloodletting must increase.”

Edwin turned around and saw two bound women kneeling by the
tree, each flanked by a robed acolyte. With the crowd so quiet, Edwin could
hear one of the women whimper, “We didn’t mean nothin’ by it. We always took
our responsibilities seriously. It was just one drink.” They were the women
from The Bitter Hart. Everyone in the village square balled their right hands
into fists and pounded their chests over their hearts. Edwin looked around,
confused.

“It’s a sign of solidarity,” Walt explained. “It’s to show
our gratitude for their sacrifice.”

As Walt spoke, the crowd shifted apart to make a path from
the stage to the hallow tree. The acolytes led the women forward and stopped at
the hallow tree. The women were crying profusely. Then, as fast as serpents,
the acolytes each struck out with a dagger and slit the women’s throats. The
women fell face first into the ground and carpeted the snow with blood. First
Edwin was shocked, then nauseated, but no one in the crowd made a sound. He
wondered if they were afraid, or bloodthirsty, or if this was so commonplace
down here that they were just indifferent.

The Lucent broke the silence: “Let us all remember the
importance of our work and let this sacrifice give the hallow tree the strength
she needs to heal and grow.” His voice was so steady it gave Edwin chills. “And
forget not, my people, that we may all be required to make further sacrifices,
though we have already sacrificed so much. Remember the dark period. Remember
last night. Remember that night fifteen years past when we lost our great
protector. And remember why we fight.

“We share a noble heritage here in Chardwick. Remember that
when the traders come from Newick, haughty in their superiority, it is we who
protect them. We are forever the first and last bastion against the wicked
forces that would consume our world…”

Edwin tapped Walt’s head. He felt sick and had to get down. If
anyone had bothered to look at him, he was sure they would see the guilt
written across his face. He knew the battle the villages had fought fifteen
years ago. He knew his mother had destroyed their protector, their original
huge hallow tree.

The witch’s blue hair stood on end, as though floating under
water. Standing in front of a cauldron, she stirred her concoction slowly,
waiting for the return of her four sisters. They had been gone for many weeks,
and over that time the triplet had stood before this cauldron, waiting for them
to bring back their charges from the farthest reaches of the earth. The lists
she had given them were extensive.

But time was running short.

Soon the people of Newick would be ready to journey to
Chardwick to trade at the winter fair. With the Master standing in their way, their
concoction had to be ready by then. Not wanting to waste precious magic, she
refrained from her scrying. Surely, she told herself, her sisters knew they
must hurry.

Unable to sleep after seeing those poor women killed, Edwin
spent most of the night in the bathroom reading, and he was so upset that he
was almost glad for his spirit’s company. He wondered who these people were who
would so freely sacrifice two of their own, and what they would do if they
discovered his hand or his spirit. When Hawthorne began to stir that morning,
Edwin had just finished trying to wash a crick out of his neck.

Meeting Edwin in the hall, Walt remarked, “You’re up early.”

Edwin only shrugged and headed downstairs for breakfast. He
couldn’t believe how little time had passed since he had come down to Chardwick
or how much in his life had changed. As he read one of Nemain’s books and
chewed on a slice of bread, he heard the door open behind him.

“You’re Edwin, the new boy,” he heard a girl’s voice say
behind him. Turning around, he found himself face-to-face with the other
Oculus, and like every other time he had seen her, she was flanked by two large
boys. She had an eager, friendly smile, and her thick pigtails almost made her
look sweet, but they couldn’t detract from her dark, calculating eyes. “We
haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Martha.”

Edwin greeted her in what he thought was a friendly manner
before returning his attention to his book, hoping that she would let him
continue reading. She grabbed herself a slice of bread and sat next to him; the
two boys hovered at her side.

While she picked at the bread’s crust, she said, “That was
some speech the Lucent gave last night. Isn’t it awful what happened to the
hallow tree?”

Edwin nodded. “Y-yes. I wonder why anyone would do such a
thing.”

Martha took a bite of her bread and chewed thoughtfully.
“Surely no one from Chardwick was behind it, and everyone knows that creature
from the mines got nowhere near it,” she mused. “I do hope they find whoever
did it. The village elders would have to scratch their heads for quite a while
to come up with a suitable punishment.” All too casually, she lifted another bite
to her mouth and chewed.

Edwin looked nervously between Martha and the two boys.

“Oh, don’t mind them. They’re puppies.” Martha grinned.
Unflinchingly, the boys continued to stand at her side.

A few bites later, the door opened behind them. Edwin was
glad to see someone else enter the room, even if it was Ashton.

“Oh, Ashton,” Martha said, “I’m glad you’re here. I was just
getting to know your roommate. Little Edwin seems nice enough, just like you
described him.” Standing up, she hopped over to Ashton, taking her slice of
bread with her. On her way past, Edwin saw her rub her hand lithely over
Ashton’s before she smiled and skipped on, her puppies in tow.

*   *   *

The village records resided in an old building in the
village square next to the Lucent’s mansion. The mortar joining the red brick
was crumbling and there wasn’t much paint left on the wood trim around the
windows. To get inside, Edwin had to put all his weight against the huge door to
get its old hinges to budge. He wasn’t ready for what he saw. Shelves covered
in books and scrolls lined the walls from the ground to the ceiling, at least
three stories high. Only narrow walkways hugged the bookcases, connected by
zigzagging stairs. Every few feet there was a pillar adorned with lanterns, but
most of the room’s light came from a huge hollow star-shaped wrought iron chandelier
hanging from the ceiling, the top of which burned bright with fire.

On the ground there were a few tables but only one was occupied,
and Edwin was surprised to see it was someone he recognized. It was Mistress
Schuylar, who sometimes guarded the path to the Black Keep; he had met her a
few times on the ledge. A mousey woman with a head covered in a thick bush of
wild gray hair, she never went anywhere without her umbrella. And though she
was old—so old Edwin thought she shouldn’t be walking all the way up the
pass to the ledge—she was also fast. She had been guarding the walkway to
the Black Keep the one time he had tried to run past. Before he knew what
happened, her umbrella had hit him on the head and knocked him to the ground. She
was on top of him and had pinned him in an instant. He’d never seen her away
from the Black Keep, but she looked exactly the same. She was even fingering
the bejeweled handle of her umbrella while writing in a large, leather bound
book.

“Why if it isn’t young Edwin Medgard, off the ledge at
last,” she said.

“Ye-yes, Mistress Schuylar,” Edwin replied, struggling to
speak even with the spirit nearby.

“And at Hawthorne, too, I see,” she said, gesturing at his
uniform.

“Yes, Mistress Schuylar. A-am I early? I can come back
later.”

“No, our work will begin in a moment. Nemain must have seen
some potential to send you our way. She used quite a few favors to get you here,
and you would do well to thank her. This is a coveted apprenticeship, and each
of the Lucent’s acolytes started here with me. You may sit wherever you like.”
She went back to her writing, and Edwin was relieved by her indifference to
him. As he sat down and looked around at all the shelves full of books and
scrolls, he was pleased by how quiet it was. Lady Nemain had been right; she
had found him the perfect apprenticeship.

A few pleasant minutes passed before the two of them were
joined by three surprisingly well-manicured children, two boys and a girl. They
all had shiny blond hair, clear skin, and clean nails, as though the dust that
covered the rest of Chardwick couldn’t touch them. They walked with a casual
respect, and they nodded at Mistress Schuylar before they took their seats.

Mistress Schuylar introduced the other apprentices as Emile
and George Fusser, and Stal Larner, and explained for his benefit that their
job was to preserve the records of Chardwick’s fathers and forefathers. Edwin
had been excited to learn that the villagers had kept a record of every
incident and thing to come from the mines, but his excitement quickly faded. Mistress
Schuylar set him to work archiving scrolls—some with titles like
The
Fallen Hero of Gelding
and
Bolin’s Poisoned Well
—and Edwin was
salivating at the chance to read what was inside, but Mistress Schuylar forbade
it and never strayed far. Edwin could sense the spirit growing bored, but with
Mistress Schuylar nearby, it never bothered or taunted him.

That night he walked back to Hawthorne alone, and he found
himself missing Walt. Each villager he saw, man, woman and child alike, slowed
to stare at him as he passed. Like Martha, they suspected he hurt their
precious tree, but unlike Martha, they kept it to themselves.

“Come, let’s look for life,” the spirit whispered in his
ear.

“I’m too tired,” Edwin mumbled, not caring if a villager saw
him talking to himself. “And they’ll be expecting me. I just want to go to
bed.”

“But you musst. Your life dependss on it.”

Edwin shrugged. They hadn’t found anything substantial to
sacrifice yet, and he had little hope they would, especially after Lady Nemain
told him that the village kept no livestock and all their meat was salted and
stored. Besides, he was already in enough trouble without breaking more rules.
He only hoped the right opportunity would present itself to him soon.

The next morning Edwin was told he would have to leave his
apprenticeship at midday. “Ask an Oculus,” growled Headmistress Vanora when he
asked why.

Ashton was sitting only a few feet away eating breakfast,
and he jumped at the chance to please the Headmistress. “Every child in
Chardwick is to spend a few hours a week with Lady Nemain,” he explained, and
he gave Edwin directions to her training yard from his apprenticeship, which
wasn’t far.

Edwin felt sick most of the morning, and it was slightly
depressing sorting books that Mistress Schuylar seemed intent on never letting
him read. He also couldn’t stop sweating, he felt cold, and his hand was all he
could think about. When it was finally time to leave, he found Nemain’s
building easily enough; it was labeled with a sign that read
Chardwick’s Aegis
. Though he couldn’t
see his spirit, he sensed it was near. Slowly, he opened the door.

Entering a long but narrow room, the first thing he noticed
was that weapons hung from every available space on the wall. There were thin
blades and thick, curved and straight, and handles of every type. They were all
also adorned with a polished bloodstone—amber from the hallow tree. Edwin
sensed that his spirit was repelled but also curious. The walls were so
cluttered that Edwin almost didn’t see that there was a door handle.

“Stay close,” he told the spirit, which purred in
acknowledgment. He opened the door, and a wall of fog fell at his feet.

“Edwin, over here,” he heard Walt yell. Unable to see
anything, Edwin had no idea how Walt knew he was there. Making his way
awkwardly around boys changing, he got near the back of the room and saw Walt,
who had his hand up and was trying to get Edwin’s attention. “I’m glad we get
to train together. It’s not fair that Sam will get to spend so much time with
you. You know, at Master Carrion’s shop.”

“Sam your twin?” Edwin’s hands were clammy.

“The one and only. Hawthorne’s not that big. It’s
interesting that you two have gone so long without meeting. Sam is the smartest
person I know, but also sort of a wallflower. But you two should meet today. We
all train with Lady Nemain together.”

“Sam is h-here?”

“No, Sam’s already in the Weapons Room.” Edwin looked back
the way he came, so Walt added, “No, not the War Room. All the weapons in there
are for show. The Weapons Room is really just a closet full of our everyday
weapons.”

Edwin bit his lip, uncomfortable with the idea of everyday
weapons.

“All the weapons in the War Room are special because they
contain bloodstones,” Walt explained. “No bloodstones have been made since the
last great tree fell. A bloodstone traded with a rich merchant from Newick will
supply the whole village with food for months.” Walt turned to finish changing.
“Didn’t you bring a change of clothes?”

Edwin had been looking down at a dark smoke moving across
the floor, which stood out from the white fog. “No o-one said anything about
changing… was I supposed to?”

“Yes. Don’t worry about it. I have an extra pair.” Edwin let
his focus turn back to the spirit while Walt rummaged in his bag. He pulled out
a tattered-but-warm-looking shirt and a pair of shorts that had once been
pants.

Edwin held up the shorts and inspected them. They were faded
and frayed at the ends, and they looked like they would barely fit him, let
alone someone as tall as Walt. “Won’t I be c-cold in these?”

“Being cold is a part of the training. You’ll see. Go on, put
them on, unless you’d rather wear your Hawthorne uniform.”

“Fine,” Edwin said. Then, changing the subject, he asked,
“Walt, what is this place? What’s Lady Nemain’s training? I’ve been wondering
all day, but I was afraid to ask. I’ve been trying to blend in since, you know…”

Walt rolled his eyes. “Ugh, you missed so much up on that
ledge. Every child in Chardwick must be trained. We’re not just a village of
silly miners, you know. If the dark times and the Others ever return, I mean
truly return, we’ll be ready. It’s hard to explain right. Finish getting ready.
You’ll see soon enough.”

Edwin nodded and started changing his shirt. A moment passed
and Walt added, “You know, you barely stuttered back there.” Edwin hadn’t even
noticed, but Walt was right. “You’re an interesting guy, Edwin. I can usually
figure people out pretty quickly, but I think you’re going to take a while.
Don’t worry, that’s a good thing.”

Edwin and Walt were the last two boys to reach the Weapons Room.
“Grab a sword and follow me,” Walt said. Edwin picked up a sword and held it
awkwardly. He had never touched a sword before. Walt then led Edwin out another
door to the War Room, where they joined the other children outside. Edwin
realized that the rooms he had seen formed three walls of a hollow rectangle.
Each child stood erect and stared forward at the door to the fourth room.
Huddled in the middle of the other children, Edwin saw Martha and her two
puppies, and farther down were three boys waving for Walt to come join them. As
Edwin followed, he heard a pale girl tell the boy next to her, “That’s the new boy.”

“My dad told me to stay away from him,” the boy replied.
Edwin turned to look at the two children, who turned away.

“Where’s Sam?” Edwin asked Walt.

Walt glanced at the crowd. “Down there, next to Martha.”

A little shiver ran down his spine. Hiding behind shoulder
length black hair, Sam couldn’t look more different than Walt. With an angular
nose and strong chin, Sam looked harsh where Walt was soft. There was also
something odd about Sam, something Edwin couldn’t place. Edwin felt himself
blushing, and he had to stop himself from staring. He reminded himself that Sam
was Martha’s friend, and Martha had as much as accused him of stepping on that
tree.

A moment later there was the loud snap as the door to the
fourth room jerked open, and Lady Nemain walked in with an animal horn hanging
from a string around her neck. She nodded towards the children, and they
responded by hitting their swords against the ground with one quick thud.
Edwin, trying to mimic the others, lifted his, but his tardiness only drew Nemain’s
attention.

“Ah, Edwin,” she said as though he were a pleasant surprise.
Her hands were behind her back, and she began pacing. Edwin couldn’t take his
eyes off the animal horn. It was a bright green unlike any he had ever seen in
nature, and he wasn’t positive, but it seemed to shimmer slightly, and not from
reflected light. “Tell us, are you ignorant in our ways, or did the Medgards
give you a proper upbringing?”