“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.
CHAPTER 7: THE COST OF MAGIC
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.
CHAPTER 8: BLIND WITH FURY
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?”
Edwin shifted uncomfortably. “What do you mean, Lady Nemain?”
“I mean, did the Medgards teach you about the mines? About staffs, swords, or the aegis?”
Edwin shook his head. She was acting like she was meeting him for the first time, and he wondered whether she was doing this for the others’ benefit, to show he would get no special treatment, or if somehow his stepping on the tree had changed things and this was a test.
“I see,” she said. “Then there’s much you must learn. Chardwick’s Aegis is required learning for any child of Chardwick, and today is a good day to start. As everyone else here is aware, today we will be practicing with the sword.” As though reading his mind, she added, “Don’t worry, the swords are blunted. They can’t hurt you much.”
Again the class tapped their swords against the ground in acknowledgement.
“One last question, Edwin,” she said, circling him and his sword as she talked. “Did the Medgards ever tell you anything about the Fury?”
“No, erm, they d-didn’t, Lady Nemain,” Edwin replied.
“Today will be a treat, then.”
Noticing that Nemain’s smile seemed false, Edwin gulped. Nemain resumed her pacing.
Turning to Walt, Edwin mouthed, “What’s the Fury?”
Walt leaned towards Edwin and whispered, “Chardwick’s greatest defense. It’s supposed to be a secret. Outsiders aren’t allowed to know.”
“Silence, children!” Lady Nemain yelled in a commanding tone that Edwin would never have suspected from her. “In these dangerous times, knowing how to wield the sword may one day save your life. Proper usage requires discipline that it is your duty to learn and respect.” She eyed them meaningfully. “Now, it has been said that this is a heavy burden for children to bear, but I survived the training, and so has every other person living in Chardwick. Edwin, the training is about to begin, so stand up straight. Everyone, ready yourselves.”
Following the others’ lead, Edwin stood across from Walt with his sword planted in the ground. The sword was long enough to dwarf him. Looking around at the other children, he noticed that they were all staring forward intently, awaiting their next command. Across from him, Walt also had the same blank expression.
“What is going on?” Edwin mouthed, but Walt didn’t move or respond.
Lady Nemain lifted the horn to her mouth, and a low, rumbling scream filled the air, like the noise in his most hated dream. It was much quieter than the cry in his dream, when his mother had just entered the village square, but the effect was the same. All around him the eyes of the other children were consumed by blackness, as though their pupils had exploded into the whites of their eyes, but the effect only lasted an instant. Edwin noticed that whatever the sound did to them, it seemed to have no effect on him.
And right then, he realized something. People in this village hunted anyone or anything with powers like his to destroy them, but they weren’t above fighting power with power. He tucked that knowledge away for later, because right then he sensed the spirit rushing towards him. Forgetting their quarrel, he whispered the words to call it into him. It spread itself into a long thread, and though he didn’t see its essence as it crossed the snow, he knew it had obeyed his command. Joining took precious energy he didn’t have, but even as its essence drained his body, he felt whole and strong.
The Dark Passenger (Book 1) Page 8
