The Dark Passenger (Book 1)

by Joshua Thomas

  But the excitement in Walt’s voice gave way to caution as soon as they got close enough to hear men yelling and barking commands at each other. “We must be close,” Walt said. The roads were deserted, and all the houses were shut up tight with not a light to be seen. “I wonder what it is. I hope it’s a dragon!”

  “Dragon’s don’t really exist, do they?” Edwin asked, but he feared he already knew the answer from his spirit’s nightmares.

  “Sure they do! My grandpa used to tell me all sorts of stories about the old Chardwick—you know, back when it was fun and interesting.”

  Walking hesitantly now, almost at a fork in the road, Walt whispered, “I think they’re just around this corner,” but before they got there, a building to their left came crashing down, throwing a cloud of smoke into the air. Their mouths open, Edwin and Walt backed away as a giant head appeared atop the rubble.

  “What is it?” Edwin asked.

  “Some kind of troll or ogre, I think,” Walt said, his voice filled with awe.

  The creature’s skin looked a sickly blue in the pale moonlight, and it had two fangs curling up from its bottom lip, each as big as Edwin’s whole body. When the creature rose from the rubble to its full height, it was as tall as a three-story building.

  “What are you kids doing here?” a man yelled, rounding the corner. Blood was flowing freely from a gash on his arm, but he didn’t seem to care. Four more men appeared, all carrying swords. “Get back to your homes!”

  The creature yelled and swatted at the men with its huge fist, but it was slow, and the men climbed up the fallen brick and circled it, swatting at its legs with their swords.

  “Edwin, what are you doing here?” a woman yelled. Edwin turned and found Lady Nemain running towards him holding a big horn in her hand, followed by at least twenty men and women, all with dead eyes looking past him to the creature. They ran by him and Walt to fight the troll while Lady Nemain added, “And Walter Morrisey. You should have better sense. Get Edwin out of here—NOW!”

  Sufficiently chastised, Walt said, “Come on, Edwin, let’s go,” and he pulled Edwin away by the arm. The creature was thrashing on the ground, trying with one hand to hit a villager with a huge door it picked up from the rubble, and to pull itself back to its feet with the other. The last thing Edwin saw before Walt dragged him around the corner was a woman chopping at its face, taking off a portion of its long pointed ear.

  “That was awesome!” Walt exclaimed as they made their way back to Hawthorne. “You don’t think it’s a return of the Others, do you?”

  “I-I don’t know anything about any of that,” Edwin said. “The Medgards never talked about what goes on in Chardwick. But people could have gotten really hurt… What if someone was in that house? And that thing… maybe it just wanted to be left alone.”

  “You feel sorry for a troll?” Walt laughed. “Even so, don’t tell me that didn’t get your heart pumping. That’s what I want to be when I get older—one of Chardwick’s guards, just like Nemain. I hope the mine is opening back up!”

  “Lady Nemain is a guard?”

  “Yeah, don’t let her smile fool you. Nemain’s tough.”

  As they got closer to Hawthorne, the cold finally seemed to hit them, and they raced to get inside. Headmistress Vanora tried to yell at them for running off, but everyone was so excited to hear about the creature that she barely got a word in.

  * * *

  Edwin slept restlessly the rest of the night, and when he woke up, his roommates were already up and in different stages of undress. Walt was adjusting his shoes, and, seeing Edwin stir, said, “You’d better hurry up and wash before the water’s brown.”

  Edwin groaned and after a few minutes dragged himself out of bed and to the washbasin, but he was too late. The water was already a thick brown sludge. Up at the inn he would bathe infrequently, especially in the winter, but he was grimy after the trip down the pass. Also, his hand was starting to emit a unique smell, kind of like rotting meat, and he was worried it wouldn’t be long before someone noticed, especially in a place as cramped as Hawthorne. Still, even in the muddy water, Edwin was able to wash off most of the dirt before he dressed and headed downstairs. He was eating a biscuit with Walt in the common room, still talking excitedly about last night’s adventure, when a strange sound befell the room, coming from the hallway.

  The sound was getting closer, louder, and shriller. Walt explained quickly, “It’s Vanora singing. I know, it’s the worst sound in the world, but whatever you do don’t cover your ears. When Sam and I first got here, I covered my ears and got triple cleaning duty.”

  The sound reverberated down the hall, and Edwin fought to control his face. Coming at them like a growing avalanche, Edwin felt even the spirit’s presence recede further. It was almost bad enough to make him forget his hand.

  “That’s awful!” Edwin exclaimed. “Wh-why’s she doing this?”

  Walt’s eyes grew wide. “The Medgards never sang the morning song? Even my parents did, and they were less superstitious than most.”

  Edwin shook his head. “When travelers from Newick stopped at the inn, they always said Chardwick’s superstitions were silly. I think the Medgards believed that too.”

  “Well, don’t go saying that around Chardwick,” Walt said. Headmistress Vanora still wasn’t at the door, so Walt added, “People here believe the morning song drives away the evil mahrs that haunt our dreams at night.”

  “Mahrs?” asked Edwin.

  “Yeah, you know, as in night-mahrs. It’s where we get the word.”

  “That sounds kind of silly, doesn’t it?” Edwin asked, but then he thought of his own dreams and the spirit.

  Walt shrugged. “There’s a lot of superstition built around sounds and music. And we all know the Fury works through song, so not all the old beliefs can be wrong.”

  Before Edwin could ask what the Fury was, the doors to the Great Hall opened and in came Headmistress Vanora. Her Oculi, Ashton and the girl with pigtails, were in tow.

  “Bravo,” said the girl.

  “Yes, flawless as usual,” Ashton added. “We know singing is a frivolous activity, but thank you again for indulging us.”

  “For my best children I can make an exception.” Vanora was beaming until she looked over, saw Edwin, and said, “You’re to meet Lady Nemain today. She’ll be waiting for you on White Foot Way, not the mansion.”

  “The—” Edwin started, confused.

  “The Lucent’s mansion,” said Headmistress Vanora, seeing his confusion.

  “Where is White—” he began, but she had already turned away to address the rest of the room.

  “Everyone out now,” she bellowed. “It’s time to get to work.”

  Some children quickly took a last bite and others moved to the wall to collect their bags; all were out of Hawthorne within a minute, and the door shut with a loud metal clank behind them. Edwin stayed close to Walt.

  Outside, the crowd began to gain life as they moved away from Hawthorne. Edwin caught his own name, then those of Nemain and Carrion, and he felt lucky that no one approached him. The idea of meeting so many new people made him nervous, especially without his spirit nearby. Walt began explaining his work in the mines, but Edwin was paying more attention to Walt’s facial expressions. Walt was smiling and seemed cheerful enough, but every so often his eyes would shoot daggers at one of the other kids; he wondered if it was Walt who was keeping the others away.

  The morning was still dark, but lanterns glowed brightly at every corner. He could sense that his spirit was far away now, and feeling more alone and vulnerable than usual, he wondered where it had gotten off to. But at the same time, as he tried to outstretch his fingers on his hurt hand and winced, he tried to convince himself that he was better off without it.

  “Edwin?”

  Edwin looked up. “Huh?”

  “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said this whole time, have you?” Walt said, and he playfully hit Edwin on the shoulder
.

  “No, I heard e-everything,” Edwin stuttered. His cheeks burned, and he was painfully conscious of every inch of his short body. He knew this feeling, and he knew his stuttering would only get worse the farther away his spirit got.

  “Then what’d I say?”

  Edwin had only been half listening to Walt, but his words came flooding to his consciousness. “You s-said that you worked in the mines directly under M-Master Danagger, which everyone said was an honor s-since he’s a member of the Council, but your parents had always said he was the Lucent’s lackey. He always does as he’s t-told, and he never votes on the Council without the Lucent’s say-so. Then you started talking about how much you hated the mines. It stays cold all year and the work is backbreaking. Then you started talking about the other day when you almost thought Master Danagger was going to take you down a forbidden passage—wait, there’s a forbidden passage?”

  Walt laughed. “So you were listening, you just weren’t paying attention.”

  “What’s the difference?” Edwin asked.

  Walt gave him a queer look, but it vanished as quickly as it came. “You know, Edwin, I think we’re going to be the best of friends.”

  “Why’s t-that?”

  Walt shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

  Edwin tried to respond, but the words wouldn’t come out. He wondered where the spirit was. He could sense it receding farther and farther, and he was worried that he would start feeling dizzy if it went too far. Walt must have seen the worry on Edwin’s face.

  “Are you feeling all right today?” Walt asked.

  “Sometimes I stutter. It’s embarrassing,” Edwin managed to say, worried that the more he talked, the worse it would get.

  “Don’t be embarrassed. Your stuttering seems to come-and-go.”

  Edwin shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. He wouldn’t be able to explain the spirit and their strange connection, or all of the creature’s taunting growing up and his constant fear that it would be found out. Even as a child he knew he would be in serious trouble if anyone ever found out about it.

  Walt continued, “I thought it was because of last night. You tossed and turned after we got back, like you were having really bad dreams. I almost woke you a few times.”

  Edwin tried to stay calm. “S-Sorry about th-that. I didn’t say anything, did I?”

  “No, it was all gibberish. And you don’t have to apologize to me. I was just worried you were stuttering more because there was something wrong. Nothing’s wrong, right? Besides leaving your home, moving to Chardwick, seeing a troll or ogre or whatever, and meeting a lot of new people who seem weirdly interested in you, I mean.” Walt smiled, and Edwin knew he was trying to be light-hearted.

  “No, nothing’s wrong. I don’t r-really mind the move to Chardwick too much. It’s a lot of new p-people, but Hawthorne is fine, and the Medgards and I were never really close. And I’ve been having the bad dreams for years.”

  “What are they about?”

  “It will sound w-weird,” Edwin said, wondering how this boy was talking him into revealing so much about himself.

  “Try me,” Walt said.

  Edwin considered being evasive, but he liked Walt. He’d never had a real friend before, just the spirit. “I’ve been having this sa-same dream for years.” And I’ve told that spirit a hundred times to stop tormenting me with it.

  “What’s it about? I promise I won’t make fun.”

  Edwin looked around and made sure no one was within earshot. “It’s a little weird. It’s about Chardwick and a woman and a hunt. Well, really more about a woman being hunted.”

  Edwin didn’t want to say more, and Walt didn’t press. “W-w-what is White Foot Way?” Edwin asked after an awkward silence.

  Walt shrugged. “It’s just a road on the other side of the village. The main entrance to the mine is on White Foot Way. I’m thinking Nemain must be at Master Carrion’s alchemy shop. Sam is Carrion’s apprentice and will also be there.”

  “Sam d-doesn’t work in the mines?”

  “No, most of us work in the mines, but there are a few apprenticeships in the village. Sam has always been the clever one and got spared manual labor. Maybe you’ll be lucky enough to work in the village too, with Nemain taking such an interest in you and all.”

  “An interest just because I’m new here?”

  Walt frowned. Talking quietly, he said, “It has to be more than that, wouldn’t you think? And Master Carrion never leaves his shop. Something’s going on.”

  Walt’s sudden change in tone made Edwin nervous, and he wondered if they could know about his hand and the spirit. Seeing a flash from the nightmare his spirit showed him night after night, the one of his mother running through the village, he tripped, and was only barely able to catch himself.

  * * *

  They rounded a corner and Edwin saw a huge arch that he instantly knew was the entrance to the village square. The arch stood at more than two stories tall, and above it sat two more stories of living quarters. Edwin had never seen an arch before, and he followed the blocks of rock up and over his head to the ‘v’ shaped keystone.

  “I’ll be right back. I need to tell Sam we’re all going to Carrion’s,” Walt said. Edwin must have looked worried that the other children would want to talk to him without Walt around, because Walt added, “Don’t worry. It’ll just take a second.”

  On the other side of the arch, Edwin found himself inside a large open space. The old decaying buildings had a sense of grandeur about them. Near another arch opposite him, he saw a man dressed in white who was flanked by four sycophants covered from head-to-toe in red. They were leaving the village square, but Edwin knew he had just seen Lucent Weston and his acolytes for the first time.

  Turning his attention back to the village square, Edwin suddenly caught sight of a man slumped over his stomach. At first Edwin didn’t believe what he was seeing; it looked like the snow around the man was covered in blood. Shocked, Edwin looked around for Walt, or anyone, really, but he was alone. And then something surprising happened; he found himself walking over despite himself.

  As he got closer, he noticed that the man’s body was blue, exposed, and covered only in a white nightshirt that was stained red. He continued walking forward and saw that the man’s wrists were slashed, as was his throat. The blood that covered the man from head to toe had long ago frozen.

  Edwin got still closer. He knew where he was in Chardwick. There had once been a tree here so big its canopy had covered the whole village square. The dead man’s eyes were open and glassy. He thought of the nightmare the spirit showed him night after night.

  Walt grabbed his arm, and Edwin suddenly realized that he had been yelling at him. “Do you know what you’ve just done?” Edwin was glad Walt had grabbed his good arm.

  “Why’s this body here?” he asked, shaking Walt off. No one else was in the square. All the others had gone through another arch.

  “Forget the body,” Walt said, looking around to make sure no one was watching. “Didn’t you see it? The tree. You walked right on it.”

  Edwin looked around but saw nothing. “Huh?”

  “The tree! Look, right there, covered in snow. See? Right under your footprint!”

  “Erm…” Edwin said.

  “I only left you alone a minute. It’s the hallow tree. They take forever to grow. No one walks near the hallow tree. Everyone knows that.”

  “Well, I didn’t.”

  “Obviously,” Walt hissed. “Edwin, you could really be in trouble. Come on, keep moving. Stop looking back. Just try to act natural.”

  With Walt dragging him by his arm, Edwin was too confused to say anything else, and they hurried to catch up with the others. As they approached White Foot Way, the road became crowded with people on their way to-and-from the mines, and Edwin had a hard time keeping up. Signs hung out in front of most shops, most doors were open, and soot was everywhere.

  “Just go inside there,” Walt said, poin
ting. “Lady Nemain is probably waiting for you. And don’t tell anyone about the tree. Trust me, Edwin.”

  “But—” Edwin began, but Walt turned into the crowd and disappeared. Edwin looked back at the sign hanging over Master Carrion’s shop, which read CARRION’S SHOP OF ALCHEMY: POTIONS, ELIXIRS, AND TRANSMUTATION. He climbed one step, but couldn’t make himself go farther. Fear bubbled up inside him. He wondered what had been so important about that tree, why Walt had looked so scared, and why Lady Nemain and Master Carrion were so interested in him, but he was terrified of them discovering his hand or the spirit. He had just gotten down here, and everything was already a disaster.

  A man bumped into him and told him to watch where he was going, and Edwin made the sudden impetuous decision to turn away from Carrion’s shop and melt back into the crowd. He told himself he would be all right if he could just find a way to heal his hand. Not looking at where he was going, he tripped over a frozen pile of manure.

  “Gross,” he cried, jumping away. Only… He wondered where the animal was that left it. Once the spirit started threatening him, it was a danger to everyone in Chardwick. His cat, poor Eigil, had been bad enough, and he worried what else the spirit might think up if it got desperate.

  With no idea where he was going, he soon got lost and happened across the area where the villagers had fought that creature. Many of the buildings were in ruins, and Edwin saw several of the villagers frowning nervously in their direction. He kept walking, but then, as he rounded a corner, he unexpectedly saw Master Carrion standing on the other side of the road. Master Carrion’s back was to him, but his red beard, which was much wider than his face, and his cane were unmistakable. Edwin backed down the path he had just taken, took a quick left onto a narrow alley, and saw the sign for a small pub. The sign above it read THE BITTER HART.

  Quickly, he darted inside, but stayed at the door a minute. No one followed him inside.

  “What can I git fer ya?” said a fat old man behind the bar. Edwin turned and, unable to find his words, backed towards the door.

  “Don’t want to go to the mines, eh?” the man chuckled. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell no one. Come on, make yourself comfortable. We don’t get many kids down here. Ya can sit in the corner.”