WAKENED (The Silvervane Chronicles Book 1)

by Rachel Berlynn

  Ryder shrugged, “Something like that.”

  “Why do you walk so far? Don’t you have a car?”

  He nodded, his face expressionless. “I have three cars, but sometimes I like to walk—a preference it appears we both share.”

  Aylie didn’t know what to say. Walking almost ten miles to school and back seemed a little crazy. She was shocked and impressed all at the same time.

  “It must take you hours,” she murmured, “Doesn’t it get too dark to see?”

  Ryder almost smirked. “I think I’m old enough to handle the dark. It’s pretty hard to get lost walking down a road that only has one destination.”

  “Oh…I guess that’s true.” Aylie fell silent. She was starting to feel like conversation with him was pointless. Every comment she made was greeted with a short, sarcastic reply. Maybe there was a reason no one ever talked to him. She stared at her feet, unsure of how to end the conversation without making things more uncomfortable than they already were.

  Ryder’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “I apologize if my answers seem a bit abrupt. I’m not used to people caring what I do or where I go.”

  Aylie glanced up at him through her lashes. He was wearing a long, dark coat over his oxford shirt. His uniform pants looked brand new, though she doubted he’d bought them himself. No one had ever seen him in town and there were a limited number of places to shop. Perhaps he had a servant of some kind who tailored his clothes for him?

  She considered his apology. “I wasn’t implying that you should be careful of the dark, itself,” Aylie replied defensively, “but everyone knows there are bears and mountain lions around here—especially so near the forest.”

  He smiled, a little condescendingly. “I appreciate the concern, but I know how to handle them if they cross my path.”

  Aylie felt a little annoyed. He seemed determined to ignore whatever she said so there was no use saying anything more.

  “You, on the other hand, probably shouldn’t be wandering around out here by yourself.” Ryder looked at her appraisingly. “I highly doubt you know much about how to defend yourself against predatory animals.”

  The amused look on his face was insulting.

  “You’re assuming I don’t know how to handle myself because I’m a girl?” She could feel the heat in her cheeks.

  “Am I wrong?”

  “For your information, I have a dad and two brothers who love to hunt and I go with them sometimes. I know how to shoot a gun and I’m a decent shot with a crossbow.”

  Ryder arched an eyebrow. He raised his hands, palms out. “I stand corrected.”

  Aylie shook her head in frustration. No wonder you don’t have any friends, she thought. You’re incapable of having a pleasant conversation.

  Ryder’s expression suddenly sobered. “I think you should be getting home,” he said, gazing off into the distance. His eyes were fixed on something, but Aylie couldn’t tell what it was.

  “I think you’re right,” she said, feeling ready to be out of his sight. “I was just trying to be a friend—it seemed like you could’ve used one today.”

  “I don’t need any friends,” he replied, shrugging. “I’ve done just fine without them for eighteen years.”

  Aylie bit her lower lip, choosing her words carefully. “But you don’t have a family anymore, Ryder. You can’t live isolated and hidden away in that place.”

  “Oh I see,” Ryder snapped. “And you think you’re the person who can magically make everything better?”

  The sudden harshness in his words both shocked and stung her. She wanted to lash out at him, but his face was filled with so much pain and repressed anger that she couldn’t. He looked injured. Exposed. Vulnerable. He was like a wounded little boy inside, and it melted her defensiveness.

  The silence in the air around them was deafening. She imagined she could hear his heartbeat thundering against his rib cage. He was heaving breaths like he had just run a marathon. His dark eyes were flashing. He was trying to maintain control of his emotions.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

  He swallowed hard, but didn’t speak. He was staring at the ground like he wanted to burn a hole through it.

  “You may not want a friend right now, Ryder, but I think you need one.” She said matter-of-factly.

  He refused to look at her.

  “It doesn’t have to be me,” she continued cautiously, “but you need someone.”

  Ryder nodded dismissively. He was like a wild, hurting animal. He would have to realize his need for a friend on his own terms. Aylie recognized this behavior from having watched her father release injured animals back into the wild, after being caught in a fox or bear trap by accident. They had to be tricked into feeling like they were in control, or they would fight the very person trying to free them.

  Suddenly he broke the silence. “What makes you so sure I didn’t do it?”

  Aylie blinked, a little confused. “What?”

  “I know what they’re saying—I’ve already heard the rumors. They think I’m the murderer.”

  Aylie shook her head in disgust. “I don’t believe that for a second. There’s nothing malicious about you.”

  Ryder almost chuckled in response.

  The strange look in his eyes raised a silent alarm in the back of Aylie’s mind, but she ignored it. “You couldn’t have done something like that to the people in your own family. I know what they think, but they’re wrong.”

  “You can’t possibly know that.”

  “I can sense things about people. Call it a gift.” Aylie smiled confidently.

  Ryder cracked an unwilling smile in return, shaking his head. “You’re the most interesting girl I’ve ever talked to,” he mused.

  “I’m probably the only girl you’ve ever really talked to.”

  Ryder was thoughtful. “Perhaps, but I’ve observed enough to know that you’re a little out of the ordinary.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She looked out over the vast, grassy field separating her from her family’s ranch. “I should get going.” She gave him an awkward, half-smile. “My mom will start to wonder what happened to me; she hates it when I walk home alone.”

  “That’s understandable,” he replied. “Not that I’m saying you can’t handle yourself,” he qualified with a smirk.

  Aylie turned to cut through the grass and was surprised to hear his voice trail after her, “See you later, Aylie.”

  She looked over her shoulder to reply, but he was already gone. She glanced down the gravel road, but he was nowhere to be found. Puzzled, she made her way home, wondering

  how he could’ve disappeared so quickly.

  CHAPTER THREE

  B y the time Ryder reached the mansion, it was nearly five O’clock and the sun was just beginning to set. The sky was bursting into effervescent colors of orange, yellow, red, and pink. He paused to appreciate the display, despite his gloomy mood. In all honesty, his feet had begun to ache from the long walk in less-than-ideal shoes, but his soul felt more at peace and he wasn’t sorry he’d done it. The exercise helped him burn off steam and it had given him time to formulate a plan.

  In six months he would graduate from Silvervane Preparatory Academy. After that, he planned to travel Europe and spend some time with the only relatives he had left. His estranged uncle Alexander and his cousins, Roman and Blake. They lived somewhere in Europe—though he didn’t know exactly where. He’d spent his summers with them as a boy and had even grown close to them at one point. He hadn’t seen them in years, but he was sure they would welcome him back, especially since the rest of his family was gone now. He’d always resented the way his father had suddenly cut off all contact with them just after his fourteenth birthday. It was about time he patched things up.

  There was nothing left for him in Silvervane anymore anyway. No friends to tempt him to stay. He didn’t have any sentiments about the Estate or what happened to it…the M
ansion could burn to the ground, for all he cared. The town might even thank him for it. It was bad

  for the economy to have a haunted castle within its borders.

  As he neared the large, iron gate surrounding the Mansion, a picture of Aylie Bryant flashed through his mind. She had been an unexpected part of his day. There had been something unsettling about seeing her alone on that forsaken, mountain road—completely unaware and defenseless against the evil that lurked in Silvervane Forest. He wasn’t sure why, but it made him feel an inexplicable sense of responsibility to make sure she got home safely.

  He hadn’t told her that, of course. Judging from the way she’d reacted when he’d pointed out her lack of skill in self-defense, he felt like his decision to keep that information to himself had been a good idea. Just thinking about their conversation filled him with a strange emotion he’d never really experienced before. He’d lived such an isolated life up until now, with only his family to socialize with. He didn’t have much experience when it came to talking to girls and he had never really felt like he was missing out on anything.

  He tried to pinpoint what it was about Aylie that had made such an impression on him. She was beautiful, of course. Her dirty, blonde hair fell perfectly straight, well past her shoulders. The sun had bleached several strands, making it look highlighted that way on purpose. Her eyes were the bluest he’d ever seen before, deep like an ocean and full of feeling. Her body was thin and willowy; she was the type of girl every guy noticed.

  But it was more than that.

  Perhaps it was the genuine care and concern she’d shown him, in the face of all the ugly rumors and accusations. Maybe it was because she didn’t fear him or gossip about him behind his back like everyone else did. For in spite of her obvious annoyance with him in their brief interaction, she hadn’t drawn conclusions about his character based on his rude behavior. She chose to believe the best—even though she knew nothing about him and she thought she could sense a goodness in him that rendered him incapable of the evil people were accusing him of.

  She was wrong about that, of course, but he wasn’t in a hurry to show her what she didn’t want to see. He was content with the fact that she was innocent enough to imagine the good in him and hoped deep down that she might be right.

  Ryder smiled to himself, as he made his way past the gate and through the courtyard. He wouldn’t mind running into Aylie again sometime. He wouldn’t go looking for her, but he wouldn’t try to scare her off, either. If she was crazy enough to enter his world without knowing what she was getting herself into—that was her choice.

  When he reached the carriage house, his mood suddenly turned dark again. He quickly darted through the large, stone-carved structure that extended from the front entrance. It was an old fashioned sort of parking structure that provided a place for guests to draw up their carriages or park their automobiles in order to enter the mansion without being exposed to the harsh elements of snow and rain.

  Two years ago his grandfather’s body had been found hanging from it’s roof, suspended by a rope around his neck. The police had declared it a suicide at first, but later concluded that he couldn’t have hung himself from that exact angle and altitude on his own. In the end, it was determined to be foul play—the fourth unsolved Payne family murder in four consecutive years.

  Ryder shook his head, trying to dismiss the images from his mind. He usually entered the Mansion from a different entrance to avoid re-living the memory of that horrific incident, but he’d been distracted by thoughts of Aylie and had taken this way out of old habit. He couldn’t help shuddering inwardly as he pushed open the heavy front door. He entered and slammed it again forcefully, shutting out the world behind him. The memories of all he had lost followed him wherever he went—there was no escaping them. Even when he managed to fall asleep at night, he often found himself dreaming of his father as if he were still alive, only to discover upon waking that he was really gone. And then it was like reliving his death all over again.

  Ryder paused in the dark entry room, or Great Hall, as it was usually called. He looked up past the spiraling staircases and balconies that wrapped around the interior of the Mansion. Hundreds of feet above him, was a domed skylight—the highest point of the mansion. He could see the sunlight, sinking behind the clouds as the evening sky fought to overtake it.

  The solemn stillness of the great empty room enveloped him. It was hard to believe that only a week ago his father had been alive and well, pouring over that cursed book in his study night and day. Damn that journal, Ryder seethed inwardly. I should burn it to ashes.

  He actually considered it for a few minutes, stalking angrily through the Mansion and up the two, familiar flights of stone stairs to his father’s study. The pages were still scattered all over the floor where he’d left them the night before. He bent down to retrieve them and his resolve quickly dissipated. This journal had been his father’s most prized possession. As much as Ryder hated it, he couldn’t bring himself to destroy the old book. It was all he had left of his father’s legacy. There would never be another philosophical debate about it, or spur-of-the-moment expedition to a remote and distant country that dead-ended into an argument.

  Ryder had grown up listening to his father read stories from it for as long as he could remember. It contained all of the history known about his ancestors, among whom was a powerful ancient Celtic king named Ruardian. This king was believed to have been Immortal, and the creator of what is known in the modern world as “magic.” These legends were first recorded long before Greek or Norse mythology ever existed, and before the Romans had named their gods.

  Ryder knew the king’s legend like the back of his hand. His father had actually taught him how to read using these very pages and he had devoured the stories as a four-year-old boy. He flipped through them now almost lovingly as the memories came flooding back. As the legend went, Ruardian had once ruled a kingdom called Zohar, a place unmarred by pain, death, or tragedy. (Ryder and his father had searched the region where it supposedly existed several times but there was no sign of a place like what the legend described.) The great King had two sons—Rhydian and Edryd, who were both immortal just as he was, but possessed only the power of demigods. Born from different mothers, they had each inherited half of their father’s abilities, along with a piece of humanity to keep them in check—this was Ruardian’s way of ensuring a balance of power.

  After ruling for only a few centuries, however, it became apparent to the king that some of the immortals in his kingdom were becoming more and more selfish and destructive. He created a magical dagger with the power to destroy an immortal being, and, as a safeguard, only the true heir to his throne could wield it. He knew this measure alone, however, was not enough to keep his kingdom safe. Secretly, Ruardian enchanted the dagger, cursing anyone who used it unjustly to lose their immortality.

  As time went on, Ruardian noticed that his younger son, Edryd, was becoming extremely jealous of his older brother’s magical abilities. Having the power to see the future, King Ruardian knew that one day Edryd would seek to overthrow him and murder his brother to take control of the kingdom. When the time drew near, Ruardian summoned his eldest son to his chambers and warned him of his brother’s evil plans. He commanded Rhydian to flee for his life in the night.

  The very next morning, king Ruardian was found dead in his bedchamber, with the sacred dagger plunged through his heart. Since Rhydian had fled, Edryd became the next king of Zohar. No longer concerned about his brother’s claim to the throne, Edryd began to hunt down and annihilate the rest of the immortal, royal bloodline so that no other heir to the throne remained alive to challenge him. He thought this would guarantee his eternal rule and carried out his plan with ruthless fervor. He had no knowledge of the curse his father had placed on the dagger.

  Fifty years later, Edryd noticed that he was beginning to age and realized what his father had done. Knowing that his days were now numbered, he invented a new, distorted
kind of magic—more commonly known as Dark Magic. He invented evil curses and incantations to use against his enemies and prolong his life. He destroyed the rest of the immortal race and created an army of flawed mortals to do his bidding and carry on his plot to conquer the surrounding nations.

  Finally, unable to find a cure for his mortality, Edryd appointed a priest to take over command of his Order until his return. Then he put himself into an enchanted sleep, with instructions for his followers to awaken him when they had discovered a cure. He made them swear an oath of absolute allegiance—binding themselves and their bloodlines to his service forever. He charged them to hunt down Rhydian and kill him, thereby ending any possible threat to his future reign.

  Ryder forced himself to stop reading. Most of the legends were nothing but an elaborate hoax, in his opinion. His ancestors had been powerful druids, and as such, they had possessed certain abilities that other human beings did not. But the concept of a kingdom ruled by immortal gods and demigods seemed seriously far-fetched. If such beings existed, someone would have discovered them by now.

  He dropped the manuscript back on the desk with malcontent. Suddenly he couldn’t stand the thought of being in that room another minute, with nothing but the empty memories and fairytales for comfort. He looked out the castle-like window beside him. There was a full moon rising and not a cloud in the sky. It would be the perfect night to go hunting—something he and his father had always enjoyed doing together on nights like this. It would be his first hunt alone, but he had been well trained and he didn’t fear anything.

  He didn’t fear anything at all.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A ylie woke up early Saturday morning and rubbed her eyes. The sun wasn’t quite up yet, but she knew it was time to get up and do her barn chores. The horses would need to be fed and put out to pasture so she could muck out their stalls, and the goats of course, would need to be milked. The chickens were Sam’s responsibility, so at least she got to dodge that bullet. There was nothing worse to Aylie than the sharp, pungent odor of a chicken coup.