Dark Company

by Natale Ghent

  Skylark raised her head with a loud sniffle. “Hello?”

  The wind rustled the leaves of the tree. She was utterly alone. Now she was hallucinating on top of everything else. The tears began again.

  “Why do you cry?” the voice asked.

  Skylark sat upright. “Who are you?”

  “Ask me what I am.”

  “All right. What are you?”

  “I am Sugar Maple.”

  Skylark twisted around to look at the tree. Its bark was scarred with bullet holes. Several limbs lay broken on the ground, blown from their sockets. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to be impolite … but am I sitting next to you?”

  “I’m sitting next to you,” the maple corrected her.

  “Oh.”

  “What are you?”

  She wiped the tears from her face. “That’s a good question. Maybe you can tell me.”

  “Well … you’re too small for a Warrior. I’ve seen many of those over the years. And you’re too big for a sylph. I give up. Tell me.”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Is that why you cry?”

  Her shoulders sagged. “I’m not right,” she confessed. “I didn’t transform properly. I’m stunty and my appendage is … wrong.” She held up her bound arm for the tree to see. “The worst thing of all is that I can’t let go. It makes me do … questionable things.” She traced the edge of a bullet hole in the tree’s trunk. “You’ve been hurt.”

  “So have you.”

  “I’ve lost someone.” Poe’s face flashed in her mind and the pain in her soul reared up again. She pushed it down, chastising herself. Sebbie should be her main concern.

  “A little guy …?” the maple asked.

  “Yes … my totem. A mouse. I left him behind earlier.”

  “I remember.”

  She stood. “You’ve seen him, then?”

  “He’s right above you, sleeping.”

  The mouse was curled in a ball on a branch over her head. Skylark was so overjoyed, she gathered him up and kissed him. “Sebastian! Are you okay?”

  The mouse stretched. “Ah, it wasn’t so bad, once I dodged all the feet.” He looked at her closely and knew immediately that she was different. The certainty of her memories had changed her. But he said nothing.

  Skylark felt calmer the moment she placed the mouse on her shoulder. She didn’t feel crazy or angry anymore. His energy grounded her. Now she understood what the pewter being had meant during the training exercise. Her totem was a part of her. She nuzzled Sebastian affectionately before addressing the tree again.

  “I want to thank you for taking care of my friend.”

  “I didn’t do a thing,” the maple said.

  “Well, I’d like to thank you anyway.” Skylark extended her hand toward a branch.

  The tree howled with laughter and Sebastian giggled.

  She blushed. “What’s so funny?”

  A majestic being stepped out from behind the tree, its robes and beard a bonfire of red, orange and gold. It laughed again when it saw the look of amazement on her face.

  “I am the spirit of Sugar Maple,” it said. “I am the lifeblood that flows through the heart of each and every Sugar Maple tree.” Skylark covered her mouth in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “Nonsense!” The spirit took her hand and shook it.

  It was warm to the touch, and she could taste a sweetness on her tongue. “Are there many like you?” she asked.

  “Millions. As many and varied as plants on the earth.”

  She looked at the trampled grass and the broken tree limbs. “The war … it hurt you—all of you. Do you ever fight back?”

  “We choose not to concern ourselves with the lives of men.”

  “But their actions affect you.”

  “They affect everything.”

  “What if they destroy everything?”

  The spirit stroked its beard. “We hope that day will never come.”

  “It isn’t fair that so many are affected by so few,” she said.

  “Our world is unseen by the eyes of men. It has been for a very long time. We are waiting for the day when they see us again.”

  The mouse tugged on her hair. “We must go.”

  “I hope that day comes soon, for all our sakes,” Skylark said. “And I hope we meet again.”

  The tree spirit smiled, its light gleaming around it. “I have no doubt we will.”

  “You may want to step back when this one jumps,” the mouse advised the spirit. “She’s fiery.”

  “Just hold on this time,” Skylark said. “I don’t want to have to come looking for you again.”

  They jumped, and the second they touched down in the garden, Sebastian admonished her.

  “You have to be more careful. You let your emotions run away with you.”

  Skylark plucked the mouse from her shoulder and looked him in the face. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?” She pointed to her chest. “It’s all still there. And it won’t let go. I had a good life, once, with friends and family and a—” She stopped before she said the word boyfriend. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to mention Poe. “I was popular,” she said instead.

  Sebastian screwed up his face. “You chose to hold onto your memories. That life is over now, so you’d be wise to forget it. Remembering will only make things harder for you.”

  “I never want to forget. I liked being human.”

  “You have to let go of your old life—every part of it.” He looked at her pointedly. He was alluding to Poe.

  She lowered her eyes. How could everything be so final?

  The mouse took pity on her. He climbed up her arm and lovingly stroked her hair. “It will get easier,” he soothed. “In time you will come to understand and embrace the importance and necessity of your new life. A butterfly does not curse its wings, child. It takes to the air without a moment’s grief for the time it spent crawling upon the ground.”

  Skylark wished she could believe him. The pain she felt said otherwise. “What will become of us?”

  “We will become what we become.”

  She picked a pink lily from beside the bench and sniffed it. “What should we do now?”

  “Go to your quarters, I suppose.”

  “Where are my quarters?”

  The mouse sent her an image of a low white building at the edge of the practice field. “Those are your quarters. See if you can transport us there without too much aggravation.”

  Skylark tucked the lily behind her ear and jumped, landing right in front of the compound.

  “Excellent,” Sebastian praised her. “You’re getting better at this.”

  She smiled, then looked at the uninspired building and pouted. It was ugly—just a stack of white blocks, one on top of the other. With all the ornate buildings in the city, this was all they could come up with? Just looking at it made her feel more sorry for herself than ever.

  “Which room is mine?”

  “Again, use your mind,” the mouse said. “Everything has a unique energetic print.”

  Skylark closed her eyes, and in an instant they were standing before a white door that looked like every other door in the building. She searched for the handle. “How are we supposed to get in?”

  “Ask the door to open—gently,” Sebastian said.

  “Please open,” she said in her sweetest voice.

  The door slid open.

  The mouse winked. “Now, was that so difficult?”

  “I used my real voice,” Skylark said. “It works better for gentler tasks. I don’t have the control in my mind yet for delicate things.”

  “Best not to get used to that,” the mouse said. “It’s the kind of habit that sticks.”

  “Just for now,” she promised. “Until I get the hang of things.” She asked the door to close and it did, sealing them inside the small square room.

  The quarters were as mundane as the rest of the building. Like everywher
e in the city, it seemed to be lit by some kind of inner power source. Though that was all it had going for it. There was a simple white bed, a small desk with a large brown leather book, a window overlooking the practice field … and nothing else. It was little more than a prison cell, Skylark thought. And it may as well have been, given the life sentence the mouse had just dumped on her. Her old life was gone, forever. And nothing would ever bring it back. It was so unbearably sad.

  “What should we do?”

  Sebastian shrugged. “Study, I guess.”

  Skylark wrinkled her nose at the book. “I don’t think I’ve ever been any good at that.”

  “Why do you say so?”

  “Because I don’t really feel like it now, and I can’t imagine I’ll feel like it later. There are so many other things I’d rather do. Maybe we should go out and see what’s going on. Anything would be better than sitting around here.”

  The mouse scuttled down her arm, jumped onto the bed and nestled into the pillow. “I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

  “But I don’t want to study,” she said. “I’m pretty sure about that.”

  The mouse closed his eyes.

  Skylark flipped half-heartedly through the big brown book. It had no title and appeared to be empty. “What’s the good of that?” she grumbled.

  The mouse ignored her. She sat on the edge of the bed, took the lily from behind her ear and twirled it between her fingers, kicking absently at the footboard with her heel. She would go crazy if she had to stay in this prison cell doing nothing. If she couldn’t be with Poe, if she had to accept the stark reality of her new life, the least they could do was go out for a walk or something. She needed a distraction. She let out a loud sigh.

  Sebastian cracked an eye and trained it on her. “Must you?”

  “I’m so bored, Sebbie.”

  The mouse’s whiskers twitched. “You’re kidding.”

  She made a face.

  “Fine,” he conceded. “We can go out—but just for a bit.”

  POE

  Caddy stared at Poe through the filtered light of the barn, trying to make sense of things. What was he doing here with these people? She was completely stunned to see him—and utterly grateful. It eased her fear to know she was not alone. There were so many things they needed to talk about though it would have to wait. Poe was already slipping into the dream. He squeezed her hand and closed his eyes.

  The Dreamer’s note was a sorcerer’s spell. It lit on the back of Caddy’s neck, worked its way to the base of her spine and set her bones singing. She sighed, her mind nudged by the rhythmic waves of sound. The tide rose, and there was a powerful surge as her consciousness linked to the collective like a boxcar coupling to a train. The visions began to come—not in the old way, the burnt toast way. They ebbed and flowed, colours blurring from grey to yellow to green. She could feel the cool earth beneath her and smell the musky scent of life pushing through the soil. Her light merged with the light of the Dreamers. Her vision became part of the whole. Together they twined upward, reaching for the sun.

  The track suddenly shifted and Caddy found herself separate from the others in a strange room. It was a derelict hotel, despair clinging to the curtains and bedclothes and broken linoleum floor. There was a man on the bed, hunched in the sooty light of the window, a gun glistening on his knee. He raised it to his forehead and pressed the muzzle to his temple, his finger trembling against the trigger. Caddy reached for him with her mind and his face fell into focus.

  It was her father!

  There was another man, standing beside the bed, impeccably dressed, his eyes the colour of ice. A soft tinkling sound enveloped him as he leaned toward her father, whispering something. Her father sobbed and squeezed the trigger. Caddy panicked and screamed, breaking the vision. The train lurched and her mind uncoupled, tumbling back into the barn where the Dreamers hummed, stitching the sound into a single seamless note.

  Caddy pressed the heels of her hands over her eyes. What had she seen? A shadow from the past? A glimpse into the future? Or the here and now? Was her father still alive? Or had he killed himself in some grimy hotel room? And who was the other man? The one with the suit and the frozen eyes? There was no way to tell. She’d broken the connection before the vision could completely unfold. Now she might never know.

  She dropped her hands from her face and looked at Poe. He was deep in the dream with the others, their bodies stretched out like fallen soldiers across the loft. Except for Hex. She sat up and slowly turned toward Caddy. Had she seen the vision of her father too?

  The humming slowed, the note hanging in the air long after the Dreamers stopped. They surfaced, stirring softly in the hay. Caddy watched Poe’s eyes flutter open. He met her gaze and held it.

  “Meg,” she said, unable to sustain the silence.

  He took her hand and gently explored the bandage with his fingertips. This simple act of tenderness made her want to cry. A lump formed in her throat. What was to happen to her? What was to happen to them all?

  The Dreamers stood, moving toward the ladder with trance-like familiarity. Poe pushed himself up from the floor.

  “We need to go,” he said.

  “Where?”

  “We never sleep where we dream.” He looked over his shoulder.

  Caddy did the same and saw Hex watching them, her face cold as stone. Poe ducked his head and walked toward the ladder, lowering himself down. He didn’t wait for her, joining the other Dreamers as they moved in a line out the door of the barn.

  Caddy was reaching for the ladder when someone gripped her arm. It was Hex. She pulled Caddy into the shadows, speaking in a low voice so the others wouldn’t hear.

  “You saw something during the dream,” she hissed.

  “No,” Caddy lied.

  Hex squeezed her arm, her face inches away. “Maybe you saw something about your father?”

  Caddy struggled to free herself. Hex squeezed harder.

  “If you do discover something about him, I hope you will tell me. We are all very concerned for his safety.”

  “I didn’t see anything,” Caddy said.

  Hex smiled, cunning as a snake, and released her grip. Caddy stumbled through the hay to the ladder. She searched for the rungs with her feet, Hex watching her, and climbed down, hoping to catch up with Poe. When she reached the bottom, the barn was empty. Caddy quickly walked outside and discovered a large cube van idling in the lane, lights off. A man stood by the back door, assisting the Dreamers into the truck. The wind had died and the grass was a pale lake of green. In the sky, a fragile crescent moon rested on its side among the stars. How long had it been since she’d seen a sky so wide, so uncluttered by buildings? It would have moved her in different circumstances. But she had no idea where she was, or how far from the city, or if she’d ever see home again. She didn’t even know if her father was alive or dead. Only this morning she was worrying about a Physics quiz at school. Now she had no way of knowing if she’d make it through the night alive. She rubbed her arm. The pinch of Hex’s grip lingered. Caddy thought about Red and wondered what he’d meant when he said he was trying to protect her. From what? The Company? Or Hex?

  And then there was Poe. Where did he fit in all of this? She couldn’t deny that she felt comforted to see him. Surely he wouldn’t be part of a group that abducted and murdered people … would he?

  Caddy looked back at the barn. She expected to see Hex standing in the doorway. Or Red. Neither was there. Were they staying behind?

  “Please, hurry,” the man at the truck said, taking her hand to help her up and over the metal grate.

  Inside the truck, the Dreamers were hunkered like animals, some in the dark, some sitting in the triangle of starlight on the dusty plywood floor. Coughs punctuated the scuffling of feet. Caddy found a spot and sat, searching the faces. There was no sign of Poe. Where was he? She tried to count the number of people but it was impossible. In the low light, the bodies were a confusing sh
adow of heads and arms. She took a guess, and came up with thirty-five, maybe forty.

  The door of the truck banged shut and the Dreamers were swallowed by darkness. No one spoke. No one moved. Caddy worried that she would need to pee. How long would they be trapped inside? She heard the driver check the door, ensuring the lock was engaged. His boots crunched over gravel as he walked the length of the truck and climbed into the driver’s seat. The cab door closed, the engine revved, and the truck bucked forward. They rolled down the lane, the Dreamers bumping against each other, as unsuspecting as cattle to the slaughterhouse. Caddy flipped up the collar of her jacket and hunched her shoulders. Holding her safe stone, she sang her song soundlessly to herself, praying her father was alive and that they would both find a way home.

  After an hour or so, the truck ground down, grumbling loudly as it slowed and turned. The gears groaned and they jerked to a stop. Caddy listened as the driver jumped from the cab and walked to the back. The door rolled open and the cool air rushed in. Without a word, the Dreamers disembarked, sleepwalkers shuffling into the night.

  As soon as she was out of the truck, Caddy allowed herself to breathe. They were further in the country. An old farmhouse leaned against the spangled sky, dark fields rolling in every direction. And still no glimpse of Poe.

  The Dreamers walked in a trance to the house. No one was paying attention to her. If ever there was a chance to escape, now was the time. She’d bent down to tie her shoelaces, steeling her courage to run, when a young woman came up beside her. Caddy stood up, fists clenched. The girl smiled. She was around eighteen or nineteen, with an angelic face and long, light brown hair. Had she somehow known Caddy was thinking of running? In any case, the moment was gone. They were surrounded by other Dreamers now, clustering together on their descent into the cellar of the house. She would have to wait for another opportunity.

  Caddy followed the others down the stairs. On the threshold, she paused. The cellar was damp and stank of mould. The others brushed past, forcing her inside. Someone closed the door. A match was struck and the Dreamers’ faces leapt in and out of the gloom. The man with the match carried it to the centre of the room and lit a candle. It sputtered to life, the flame lapping at the dark. The Dreamers gathered around it. Caddy found a spot with a good vantage point and looked for Poe. She could see the girl sitting between a man and woman across the room. They were focused on the candle as if they expected something important to happen.