Dark Company

by Natale Ghent

  Zephyr guided her to a room. Its door was carved with the image of a tree in a circle, the same as her pendant. She pressed the latch on the handle and opened it. The room was huge, with wall-to-wall cabinets made of cherry wood that stretched from floor to ceiling. Each cabinet had hundreds of little drawers with brass plates, carefully inscribed.

  “What is this place?”

  Zephyr ran her hand lovingly along the drawers. “The sum total of our work.”

  Caddy looked at the writing on one of the brass plates. “It’s Latin—these are plant names.” She traced the shape of the letters with her finger. “What’s inside?”

  Zephyr opened a drawer and pulled out a muslin sack the size of a spice bag. “We’ve been collecting and storing them for a very long time.” Loosening the drawstring, she poured the contents into her hand. It was seeds. Golden seeds.

  “Wheat,” Caddy said.

  Zephyr nodded. “Grown and gathered from grain found near Turkey. It dates back to the Neolithic era, nearly 8,500 years ago.”

  “These are the original seeds?” Caddy marvelled.

  “We grew small crops from the original seeds and collected them. We grow all the seeds in our bank to keep them viable.”

  Caddy opened another drawer. And another and another. Each one held an identical muslin bag. “What’s it all for?”

  “The future.” Zephyr poured the wheat seeds back in their bag and returned it to its drawer. “The collapsing economy, the threat of war—these are just distractions from the real danger. The Company has been hard at work, infiltrating governments and corporations, advancing their interests through the propagation of genetically modified seeds, among other things.”

  “Why? What can they possibly achieve?”

  “Control,” Zephyr said. “Control the food source, control the people.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The Company has been genetically modifying seeds for decades—to combat famine, to feed the growing population, to enhance production in areas with depleted soil. But the seeds they create are sterile. They can’t reproduce beyond one cycle. They’re no longer life-sustaining. At first we thought that was their plan—to control the economy by limiting how much could be grown and by whom. Now we know the whole truth. Greed is only one part of the scheme, one the government willingly supported. Even they don’t know the extent of the deception. The seeds are genetically encoded to prevent us from dreaming. There are a select few who are immune to the dream suppressant. Something in their DNA allows them to dream despite this genetic assault. The ability may be passed along in generations to come, who knows. It will take years before we can say. But we may have run out of time. With the world focused on war, the Dark is advancing faster than we can push it back. The seeds hold the key to the Light and the future of the world. We must preserve them at all costs so the people can dream again. Your father knew this, and that’s why they wanted him dead.”

  “He knew about the modified seeds?”

  “He helped create them.”

  Caddy’s knees buckled and she collapsed against the wall, her hands shaking. Zephyr must be mistaken. Her father hated the Company and all it stood for. He would never help them for any reason, let alone design seeds to undermine the very thing he held most sacred. “Why would he do that?”

  “Please, don’t misunderstand me,” Zephyr said. “Your father’s intention was good. He tried to control the process by ensuring the genetic encoding of the seeds was pure. At one time he believed he was helping to feed the world. When he learned of the Company’s true purpose for the seed program, he planned to stop them. He stole valuable information—information he intended to use against them.”

  Caddy’s mind whirled. If what Zephyr said was true, it would explain why her father might be sitting in a hotel with a gun to his head.

  “Come,” Zephyr said. “You’re feeling weak. I’ll show you to the showers. You can clean up then get some food.”

  “Wait.” Caddy grabbed Zephyr’s arm. “Tell me the truth … do you know where my father is?”

  A sadness veiled Zephyr’s blue eye. “No.”

  “Please …” Caddy said. “I saw him in a vision. He tried to shoot himself. Maybe he succeeded, I don’t know. If you have information about where he’s hiding, you have to tell me.”

  Zephyr shook her head. “We don’t know any more than you. We lost contact with him weeks ago. We hope he is still alive. Please, no more for now. Get yourself cleaned up. It’ll make you feel better.”

  The showers were as well designed as the rest of the building, with stone tiles on the floor and walls, and neat cedar shelves stacked with towels. There were at least ten stalls, open, like a locker room. Zephyr handed her a robe. “There’s shampoo and soap in the stalls. I can take your clothes and have them washed.”

  Caddy refused the offer. It was a feeble protest but she was tired of people telling her what to do. And she suspected Zephyr knew more about her father than she was letting on. It wasn’t fair for Zephyr to keep things from her, to administer information like doses of medicine.

  “I want to see Poe.”

  “You can see him tomorrow, when you’ve both had a chance to rest,” Zephyr said. “Come to the Gathering Room when you’re done. There’s food.”

  Caddy waited for Zephyr to leave, then stripped out of her dirty clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor. Hands fumbling, she turned the taps in the shower. The water was cold at first, then scalding hot. She adjusted the temperature and stood in the spray, arms hanging at her sides, hoping it would stop the bad feeling from coming. The shaking in her hands only got worse. She convulsed, the smell of burnt toast filling her nostrils as she crouched so as not to fall, water streaming over her back. The bad feeling hit, dropping her into the eye of the gale. Ash stung her face. The lost souls shrieked around her. They grabbed at her hands and her hair, more terrifying and urgent than ever before. Something black and evil was coming. Something darker and colder than death. Caddy covered her ears and yelled.

  The sound of her own cries jolted her into the present, shivering on the shower room floor. She blinked the water from her eyes. Alone. She was mercifully alone. Rising to her hands and knees, she stayed there, unsteady as a newborn calf, until she was able to stand, and even then only by propping herself up in the corner of the stall. When her breathing slowed she righted herself and began methodically washing her hair, the smell of the shampoo green and fresh as rosemary, the suds swirling over her feet into the drain. She wouldn’t go to the Gathering Room when she was done, she decided. She would go see Poe.

  THE VISITOR

  Caddy’s dirty clothes smelled of sweat and dirt against her clean skin. She wrinkled her nose, walking as casually as possible so as not to draw attention to herself. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially April or Dillon. They would want to hang around and try to make her feel better. Poe was the only one she wanted to see.

  She found his room easily enough and discovered that he was not alone. There was a girl sitting by the bed, her back to the door. She was holding Poe’s hand and whispering something in his ear. She glanced over her shoulder when Caddy walked into the room.

  “Oh!” Caddy exclaimed. The girl was exquisitely beautiful with long shiny black hair and eyes the most impossible shade of violet. She seemed to burn like a fire. And she looked so familiar.

  The girl ignored her, continuing to hold Poe’s hand while he slept. What was left of his arm was swaddled in a white bandage to the shoulder. The rest was missing from the elbow down. His skin was pale and his eyes were shadowed and sunken. Seeing him so fragile and wounded made Caddy want to cry. She held her safe stone.

  “I just wanted to see him,” she said.

  The girl bristled, straightening her back. Her voice was sharp as a razor. “What have you done to him?”

  Caddy stiffened. “I … he … it was a mistake.”

  “A mistake?” The girl’s words dripped with incrimin
ation. “How does someone lose an arm by mistake?”

  “He heard voices,” Caddy said, not at all sure why she felt compelled to explain anything to this girl. “He tried to stop them.”

  “By cutting off his own arm?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is this how you repay him?”

  Repay him? “Who are you?”

  The girl rose, her violet eyes darkening. “I’m the one who loves him.”

  Caddy caught her breath. Now she remembered where she had seen her. It was the girl from her vision! She was much more imposing in person. Otherworldly and commanding. Caddy hadn’t even recognized her.

  A clatter of dishes outside the room caught Caddy’s attention. April and Dillon were there, carrying a tray with soup and bread.

  Caddy pressed a finger to her lips. “He’s asleep.”

  “How could anyone sleep with all this noise?”

  To Caddy’s amazement Poe was awake and sitting on the edge of the bed. His eyes glittered with life and the colour had returned to his face. How could this be? Caddy looked for the girl. She was gone.

  “There was a girl here a second ago,” she said. “Did you see her leave?”

  Dillon shook his head. “I saw no one.”

  “She was right here,” Caddy insisted. “I spoke to her.”

  “You must be hungry,” April said.

  “Don’t patronize me. She was sitting by the bed when I came in, holding Poe’s hand.”

  Dillon and April exchanged worried glances.

  “Well, she’s not here now.” April placed the tray on Poe’s lap. There was an awkward moment as he tried to manage the soup spoon and the chunk of bread with one hand.

  Caddy rushed to help him.

  “No.” He pulled away from her.

  She stepped back, stung. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re feeling better. Isn’t this miraculous?” she said to April and Dillon. “When I walked in two minutes ago, I thought he was dying.”

  “Caddy,” April admonished her.

  “It’s true,” she insisted. “There was a girl here—she did something to him.”

  “No one did anything to anyone,” Dillon said.

  “Why don’t you believe me?” Caddy shouted.

  “We’re going to dream tonight,” April said in a controlled voice, changing the subject. “Will you be joining us?”

  Caddy didn’t care if she ever dreamed again. “No, I don’t think so.”

  April looked disappointed, but she recovered immediately and smiled. “Okay, well, let us know if you need anything—either of you. We’re happy to help.”

  “Dream well,” Caddy said, the words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

  As soon as they’d left the room, Poe cornered her, his eyes fierce. “I want to go back for the others.”

  “What?”

  “We can’t leave them at the mercy of the Company men. It’s as good as murder.”

  “You’re not well,” Caddy said.

  “I feel fine.”

  “Your arm …”

  “I’m better for it. With the mark gone, I can move undetected.”

  This was madness. He must still be delirious. Caddy couldn’t possibly agree to his idea. “Even if you are feeling strong, how will you find them? They could be anywhere.”

  “I have a feeling they’re close by.”

  “A feeling?”

  He glared at her with frightening intensity. “Don’t underestimate me, Cadence.”

  “You can’t blame me for being worried, Poe. One minute you’re on your deathbed, and the next you’re planning a rescue mission halfway across the woods. How is that possible?”

  His face darkened. “What are you getting at?”

  Caddy sat on the edge of the bed. “She did something to you.”

  “Who?”

  “That girl.”

  “What girl?”

  “The one who was here when I came in. She told me she loved you.”

  He laughed, the derision in his voice cutting her to the bone. She swallowed her hurt and took a different tack.

  “I’m sorry … you have every right to help the Dreamers …”

  “I can’t leave them out there,” he said. “They should be here.”

  “Do you know about Hex?” Caddy asked.

  “Yes. I know everything.”

  “How?”

  He clenched his jaw. “Why are you trying to stop me, Cadence? I have to help the Dreamers before it’s too late.”

  “Then I want to come with you.”

  “No. You’ll slow me down. And the mark will make you vulnerable.”

  Caddy wasn’t going to be put off so easily. “You need me to find the way back through the forest.” It was a lie. She didn’t know how to get back. Red had taken her through the caves. She was so turned around there was no way she could possibly find her way out. Poe didn’t know that though. “When do we leave?”

  “Tonight.”

  Caddy and Poe waited for the Weavers to gather for the dream. Poe took his knife, struggling to secure it to his belt. Caddy pulled her bag over her shoulder and offered to help him. He refused. He had to learn to do it himself, he said. When he’d managed to secure it, he hid the knife beneath his shirt, in case they met someone on the way out. They would walk apart until they cleared the compound, he decided, so as not to arouse suspicion.

  Caddy stuck her head out of the room. The hallway was empty. She wasn’t sure which way to go so she went the only way she knew, to the left, toward the Gathering Space. She changed her mind immediately and went right. She passed the showers and Poe began to follow, keeping his distance.

  At the end of the corridor the hall broke left and right. The place was a rabbit warren of passages. Caddy decided to go left. The hall constricted and broke left and right again. To the left, the hall seemed to double back on itself. To the right, it narrowed even further to a low, arched door. She checked over her shoulder. Poe was waiting at the end of the hall. She went right, stooping as the ceiling closed in on her. Reaching the door, she saw that it was heavily bolted. She tested the latch. It wouldn’t budge. Using the heel of her hand, she pressed with all her strength. The bolt was fixed. Poe would have to help. She waved him forward. He ducked into the shadows and crept along the hallway, his head nearly touching the ceiling by the time he reached the door.

  “It won’t open,” Caddy said.

  He tested the bolt. It wouldn’t move it. Taking his knife from his belt, he tapped the butt end on the lever. After several quick hits he was able to pry it into position, then hammer the bolt loose. It gave, and the door popped open. The air was musty and smelled of stale water and earth. The passage was little more than a rugged tunnel carved from the rock, claustrophobic and pitch black.

  “I have this …” Poe fumbled his knife back onto his belt and pulled an old Zippo lighter from his pocket. He worked it open with his thumb and lit it. The flame reflected off the rocks and tree roots, freeing the shadows from the stone. They danced erratically against the wall.

  Caddy peered into the tunnel. She definitely hadn’t come this way with Red. “It looks as though no one’s ever used it.”

  “It’s probably some kind of emergency exit,” Poe said. “They must not expect people to come in this way with the door bolted from the inside.”

  “How will we lock it behind us?”

  “We won’t.”

  “We can’t just leave it open.”

  “We’ll hide the entrance from the outside. That way no one will find it.”

  Caddy had her doubts, but she didn’t want to argue with him. She followed him into the tunnel, pulling the door closed behind her.

  It was a challenging passage. The rocks were sharp and the tunnel went deeper before it began to rise. The air was suffocating and thin. She could barely catch her breath. Poe didn’t complain, but she could see his disadvantage was making things difficult. The roots caught on his bandage, causing him to curse under his breath.
>
  After a hard stretch, the passage took a turn upward. They could see another door, bolted from the inside at the top of makeshift stairs chipped from the stone.

  Caddy held the Zippo while Poe worked the bolt, water drops ticking out the seconds through the seam in the door onto the stairs. This one gave easier, the weight of the door assisting the bolt in the mechanism. The whole thing was grown over, a mass of soil and roots fusing it shut. Bracing his back, legs straining, teeth clenched, Poe heaved the door open, soil and rain showering down. He struggled through the opening and reached back to help her up. Holding his hand, Caddy climbed out, her feet scrabbling, the rain beating around them.

  Poe closed the door and fit the green wig of grass over it, pressing the roots and earth in place so that it was impossible to see the entrance.

  “How will we find it again?” Caddy asked.

  “Here.” Poe held up a square chunk of limestone. “Remember it. It’ll be our marker.” He placed it near the door. “Which way?”

  They walked along the base of the escarpment. It seemed like a good direction to go. So what if they didn’t find the others? Caddy thought. The best thing they could do would be to keep walking until they were as far away from everyone as possible. They could find a place together and just live, the two of them. Grow things. Forget the Company and Hex and the war. She occupied her mind for miles with this silly fantasy.

  Poe stopped and leaned against a maple tree, breaking her reverie.

  “Do you need to rest?” she asked.

  He shook his head, grasping his arm. Blood was seeping through the bandage with the rain.

  “We could take cover under the trees for a while … get out of the wet.…”

  “No!” he shouted.

  His anger scared her. How long before he realized she didn’t know where she was going? She was thinking of telling him the truth when she recognized the spruce tree, the one they’d used to hide him.

  “There,” she said. “There’s an upturned stump not far from here. If we find that, we’re close to the edge of the field.”