Dark Matter (Interchron Book 3)
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Dark Matter
Book 3 of Interchron
By Liesel K. Hill
Copyright 2018 Liesel K. Hill
Cover art by Les
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Discover more titles by Author Liesel K. Hill on her Author Website or her blog, Musings on Fantasia
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To my little sister, Heidi. She’s a great mom and a shining example of what’s possible. Love you, Heid!
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
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Prologue: The Gray Man
Chapter 1: Questions of Polarity
Chapter 2: Flashbacks and Diamonds
Chapter 3: The Poetry of a Joke
Chapter 4: Lunar Eclipse
Chapter 5: The Problem of Brothers
Chapter 6: A Column of Darkness
Chapter 7: Particle Interactions
Chapter 8: Dark Prophecy
Chapter 9: Spectrums of Color
Chapter 10: To Make a Man Feel Safe
Chapter 11: A Gentleman’s Agreement
Chapter 12: Green Ballons
Chapter 13: Fear and Bone
Chapter 14: The Relevance of Belief
Chapter 15: Digging
Chapter 16: Prurients and Abviscerates
Chapter 17: Oblivion
Chapter 18: To Fear Insignificance
Chapter 19: What is Forbidden
Chapter 20: Convergence
Chapter 21: Murder on the Mountainside
Chapter 22: The Strength of Blood
Chapter 23: The Orb
Chapter 24: The Dark Lands
Chapter 25: The Tears of a Sibling
Chapter 26: The Roses are in Bloom
Chapter 27: Forbidden Tears
Chapter 28: Terror, Loneliness, Desolation, Madness
Chapter 29: The In-Between
Chapter 30: Plans and Suspicions
Chapter 31: Promises of Forgiveness
Chapter 32: Twin Heartbeats
Chapter 33: The Binding
Chapter 34: A Wormhole’s Signature
Chapter 35: The Gathering Storm
Chapter 36: Dark Vortex
Chapter 37: Desperation
Chapter 38: The Pores of a Soul
Chapter 39: Prophecies of War
Chapter 40: Hearts
Chapter 41: Betrayal
Chapter 42: To Be Mourned
Chapter 43: Bone-Deep Rage
Chapter 44: Vanished
Epilogue: Fractured
Author’s Note
Connect With the Author
About the Author
Also by Liesel K. Hill
Prologue: The Gray man
“Both hands, Benny. You’re sloshing water out.”
Benny tossed his light-brown hair in frustration, righting his grip on the wooden bucket before glaring up at Téa.
Téa grinned down at her six-year-old brother. The shape of his eyes and shade of his hair mirrored hers exactly. She would have mussed it playfully if she hadn’t been carrying her own water buckets, one in each hand. She had to work to keep the full buckets level as they made their way over the lumpy forest ground. The morning was young, but warm. Already Téa felt sweat sliding down the backs of her knees and the small of her back. She felt grateful for the tattered, red-flowered headscarf that kept it off her forehead.
Their small camp had awakened only half an hour before, and Téa and Benny were tasked with bringing water from the river. Three full buckets were usually enough. Two for the brief task of washing with threadbare rags allowed before breakfast. One to drink and later wash breakfast dishes in. The more Benny spilled, though, the more likely one of them would have to return to the river before they broke camp.
“Come on, Benny,” she urged. “You know our mission. Back to camp with as much water as possible.”
This kind of motivation usually worked on Benny—it got him out of his blanket roll this morning, anyway—but now he ignored her. “How many more days, Téa?” he asked. Though sweat beaded his upper lip, he did better at keeping the bucket level now.
“Nigel thinks about a week.” She glanced down at him, alternating glances between his face and the rolling, hard-packed ground in front of her. “Why?”
He shrugged.
“Come on, Benny.” She grunted as her toe caught a small stone, making her wobble before regaining her balance and spilling some water.
Benny grinned, looking pleased at her misstep. After a moment, his smile faded. “What will it be like there, Téa? What if we don’t like it at Inter, Interchrit…?”
“Interchroniter,” Téa said, stressing the dominant syllable. “You can can it Interchron for short. It will be wonderful.” Téa kept confidence in her voice. “Much better than things are now.”
“We don’t know any of the people. What if they’re mean? What if they…hurt us?”
A pang of sadness hit Téa and she nearly stumbled again. “That won’t happen, Benny,” she said gently. “It’s why Mom and Dad wanted to come here. These people will be good. Like us. People who want to live as individuals and be safe from the Arachnimen.”
Benny frowned at his water, repositioning the bucket’s coarse rope handle against his palms and flexing stiff fingers. He didn’t look convinced. “Do you think Dad would have wanted us to keep going?”
Téa froze, then turned slowly toward her little brother, doing her best to swallow past the lump in her throat. “Of course. It’s exactly what Dad would have wanted.”
Benny scratched under his neck, looking frustrated. No, not frustrated. Afraid. “What if the Arachnimen find us again? Dad became the Darkness to save us, right? But I don’t think Mom knows how. Who will save us if they find us again?”
Téa gaped at Benny for ten full seconds before snapping her mouth shut. She’d had no idea he’d worked out so much of what happened. Did he truly understand what their father did that day, weeks ago?
“What do you know about what happened with Dad, Benny?”
Benny shrugged. “He told me about it once. That day, I saw him do it. I’m not a baby, Téa.”
Téa squinted at him suspiciously. “He told you about it?”
Benny immediately blushed, his gaze hitting his toes. He always did that when he felt guilty. “Okay, no. He told Mom about it. They thought I was asleep, but I was listening.”
Téa relaxed and turned, moving again. Benny kept pace with her.
She wouldn’t have understood why her father would tell Benny such a thing. He hadn’t. She’d spent many a night pretending to sleep while secretly listening to her parents worry about the future as well. She hadn’t been privy to the conversation Benny meant, but that didn’t mean she didn’t understand what her father did. He’d taught her about it in an oblique way, months ago.
“The Arachnimen are only grunts, Téa,” he’d told her. “The Trepids are bloodhounds. Once they see you, hear you, sense your neurochemical signature, they can track you. Home in on your energy. It’s why we must always stay hidden. Once they get a taste of your energy, they’re nearly impossible to shake.”
That’s why he’d done what he did. To give them one chance to make it to Interchron. Her father must have known it would be the only one they'd have.
Téa glanced down at her brother, still balancing her buckets. “Do you know what it means, Benny? What Dad did?”
Benny nodded. “He kept them from finding us. He died so we could get away. He became the Darkness.”
Téa kept silent for a long time, trying to decide what Benny was ready to hear. “Is that what he called it, when you
listened to him tell Mom?”
Benny shrugged. “Mom got mad at Dad because he knew how to do it. She said she didn’t want him to. He said sometimes you have to fight darkness with darkness. He said he’d do it to protect us, but only as a last retort.”
“Resort,” Téa corrected absently. Her mind raced back to the day it happened. Strange, how quickly the memory came. They’d just broken camp when a dozen Arachnimen, eyes and cheeks covered with black spider's webs, crashed into the clearing. Their larger counterparts, a handful of Trepids, came behind them, sporting black faces with white spider's webs, and jewels stuck into the skin at the web junctions.
The henchmen took Téa’s group by surprise and things went bad immediately. If Téa hadn't been holding her water buckets, she might have run a hand over her crooked nose. After weeks, she'd memorized the feel of it. One of the Arachnimen had punched her in the face, shattering the cartilage. It hadn't healed well and now was irritatingly dented on the right side. Téa doubted she'd ever feel pretty again. At least she was alive.
Her father had shouted at his family to run. Then he fell to his knees. Téa watched her father gather energy around himself and do something specific with it. At the time, she couldn't internalize what it all meant. What he'd done. She'd run the events of that day through her head non-stop ever since. She knew now what she'd seen. If it came down to it, she could replicate what her father did, but Benny didn’t need to know that. Nor did their mother.
Téa shook herself and focused on her task. “Don’t worry, Benny. We won’t be attacked again. We’re nearly to Interchron.”
“What if we are attacked again,” Benny insisted.
“We’ll figure it out.” Téa infused her voice with a confidence she didn’t feel. She’d always been more like her father than her mother, but she didn't have his courage. Her mother hadn’t talked about that day since it happened. She’d become far away and listless, leaving Téa to care for Benny. The heaviness Téa had felt since losing her father clawed insistently at her insides so she changed the subject.
“Interchron will be great, Benny,” she said cheerily. “Dad said they have actual beds and running water, remember? They live inside a mountain! Won’t it be fun to explore?”
“Maybe,” Benny said slowly. “Won’t it be scary? What if once we go in, we can’t get back out?”
Téa had heard her mother voice similar concerns to her father. Her father’s reply echoed in her head even now. “I doubt this place will be perfect, but no matter what downsides Interchron might have, I think it may be the last beacon of hope left on earth.”
Téa shrugged. “I don’t know how it all works. If being in the mountain means being protected from the Arachnimen, and having plenty of food and water and…freedom, then I’m okay staying inside. Aren’t you?”
Benny smiled. “I guess.” The tension melted from his shoulders.
Téa smiled down at him, then paused. They’d reached the narrowest part of their route. The yellow-green shrubs and pale, thin, aspen trunks stood too close together for them to walk side by side here. Téa put a hand on Benny’s shoulder. “Dad wanted this for us.”
Benny nodded solemnly, more wisdom than his six years warranted shining out from his blue eyes.
“You go ahead of me here, Benny. Come on, look alive. Let’s get this mission completed.”
He grinned, and they made their way single-file through the slim, natural avenue.
Téa focused on the faded, brown leggings she wore. They were dotted with tiny, orange diamonds. Probably the ugliest pants she'd ever worn, but beggars couldn't be choosers. At least they had some color. Her boxy shirt was the color of…nothing. Not white, not brown. Something in between and completely forgettable.
In truth, Téa shared some of Benny’s worries. Her father trusted where they were going, and that was good enough for her, but moving into a new place, with new people, felt daunting. Dad promised they’d be safe in this Interchron. If true, dealing with new, possibly difficult, neighbors would be worth it. Whenever fear niggled its way into her heart, she told herself it couldn’t possibly be worse than the coast had been.
Even before her father’s death, they’d lived in constant fear there. When news of a safe place more than two thousand miles away reached them, her father immediately considered it. Privately, he told her it was a big risk, but he felt good about it. He believed it to be the best chance for their family. Perhaps the only chance of remaining free. While of course they wanted to find a safe place with plenty of individuals, lots of them in one place might spell danger, depending on what kind of people they were. It would essentially be an underground society, and they’d have to follow the society’s rules.
So, they’d come west. They’d met other people, other families, along the way, also traveling toward Interchron. Téa found that encouraging. So many people wouldn’t be heading for the same place if it was evil. Téa’s parents dared to hope. Then the attack happened. Her father only made it halfway to Interchron, and his sacrifice for their safety made Téa more determined than ever to get her mother and brother there. She prayed her father's hope did not prove misplaced.
Téa didn’t think the quick smile and lively twinkle would return to her mother’s eyes, but perhaps in the safety of Interchron, they could all begin to heal. Their once-large group now held only thirteen people. They worked together as they made their way west toward the hollow mountain in the desert-like section of this mountain range. After months of travel, they drew close.
Sweat began to soak through Téa’s clothes. She wished the group could camp closer to the river, but it wouldn't be safe. Arachnimen trolled the banks looking for individuals to brutalize, so they always camped at least a quarter mile from the water, in the most undisturbed wilderness they could find.
Which was why Téa always accompanied Benny to the river. At sixteen, she knew how to stay hidden, only venturing to the water’s edge after a careful scan of the area to make certain they were alone. Téa possessed few abilities. Her forte lay in sensing heat. She was still learning to differentiate between humans and animals, so she treated them with equal caution. If she mistook a large animal for a human, she wouldn’t want to meet the animal at the river any more than she’d want to meet an Arachniman.
They left the narrow avenue and Téa moved up to walk beside Benny again. A rise came into view up ahead. It crested well above the level ground they walked on. Climbing it represented the steepest part of their journey. The camp sat directly on the other side.
Neither she nor Benny spoke as they trudged up the hill. The exertion of her lungs and the burn in her calves discouraged conversation. Three quarters of the way up, Téa remembered she ought to be paying attention to heat signatures. Before her father’s death, her mother told her to practice during simple times of the day. Before coming around a corner or over a rise, she ought to feel out the heat signatures and practice interpreting what she felt.
Sending her mind out, Téa searched for thermal energy. Small thermal signatures dotted the forest around her. They came from dens in and under trees and nests up high. She even detected minute ones crawling through the surrounding soil. All as should be. She turned her attention to the other side of the crest, where she fully expected to find eleven signatures, tromping through the camp. There were….
With a gasp, Téa dropped her buckets and lunged for her brother. She wrapped an arm around his skinny waist from behind and clamped a hand over his mouth. Benny dropped his bucket and made noises of protest.
“Shut up, Benny,” she whispered urgently. “There are way too many people on the other side. Way more than eleven.”
Benny went utterly still in her arms. The tension built in his limbs so sharply, his hands shook. Téa took her hand from his mouth and moved around beside him, pressing a finger to her lips. Benny’s eyes looked wide and terrified. She gave his hand a squeeze—enough to let him know he wasn’t alone, while not enough for complete reassurance. She didn’t want
him to relax. She motioned for him to follow her.
She moved silently down onto her belly and crawled toward the top of the rise. Cold moisture soaked through the front of her shirt and brown slacks as she slid across the spot where she’d spilled her water. It barely registered. Benny crawled on his belly beside her, keeping slightly behind.
As slowly and carefully as possible, Téa raised her eyes a hair higher than the crest.
What she saw froze her spine.
Five of their group, including her mother, knelt in a circle at the center of their camp, surrounded by a ring of imposing Arachnimen. The huge men would have towered head and shoulders above her father, and he’d always seemed tall to Téa. The spider’s web tattoos over their eyes made them look perpetually beat up. Their greasy hair—longer on the sides than in the back—always reminded Téa of snow hats her mother made her wear as a child. The kind with long flaps that hung down over the ears.
The camp lay in shambles. Tents had been slashed, supplies dumped and scattered. Why did none of the five adults kneeling in the center move, fight, protest? Where were all the others?
Téa’s mother stared blankly ahead at nothing. The fear that settled solidly in Téa’s middle paralyzed her.
Sounds of stomping and human cries came from outside the clearing and Téa cut her gaze to the right, searching. Nigel Felton, the leader of their group, had lost his son the same day Téa’s father died. Two Arachnimen wrestled him into the center of the camp with the others. His wife, Margot, already knelt there beside Téa’s mother.
He, at least, acted as Téa would have expected, throwing his bodyweight around, trying to escape his captors. His slight made it impossible. They threw him down beside Téa’s mother, where he landed with a grunt. He immediately swiveled to glare at the circle of Arachnimen surrounding him. He turned to his fellow individuals, and his eyes widened.
He lunged toward his wife, kneeling on the other side of Téa’s mother, and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Margot! Margot answer me!” He shook her forcefully. Her eyes remained flat, staring straight at Nigel’s face, but not truly seeing. “No! No!” Nigel pulled his wife into his chest, tears leaking down his cheeks. She swayed back and forth stiffly, like a wooden doll in his grip.