Captive of Darkness (Heart of Darkness Book 1)

by Debbie Cassidy

  Howls ripped the air to my right.

  “Run, little Yav-born. Show me how much life you have in you.”

  Berstuk’s voice taunted me, echoing around me, and suddenly the trees were no longer urging me on; they were lashing at my clothes, snagging in my hair to yank me back. Tears of pain distorted my vision as I pressed on. Don’t focus on the howls. Wait, were they closer? To the left? To the right? Oh, God. Were they behind me?

  Terror clamped down on my mind in a blinding haze, and the world blurred into one huge threat. And then a wall hit me. Arms grabbed at me, lifting me off my feet, my screams punctuating my kicks and punches. Not food, not meat. Not me.

  “Wynter. Wynter, stop. Stop, it’s me.”

  That voice, that scent. The terror ebbed enough for me to see clearly, to see Veles’s face looking down on me from his position above me. Bracken dug into my back as he pinned me to the ground with the full length of his body.

  “You’re safe.”

  Safe? Rage ignited like a forest fire, and my hand whipped up to slap him in the face. He didn’t even flinch, which made the anger hotter, more violent. I raised my hand to hit him again, but he grabbed my wrist and pressed it to the earth by my head.

  “You left me, you fucking left me.”

  “Yes.” His ember eyes blazed. “But I came back for you.” His brow crinkled, and he looked up. “How did you get away?”

  “He … he let me go.”

  Veles shook his head. “No. It’s a trick.”

  He rose quickly from the ground, carrying me easily, and then broke into a jog. We were headed away from this awful place, this black forest filled with monsters and death.

  Veles cursed roughly a split second before I heard the howls again—so much closer—too close, and they were coming from everywhere.

  “They’re closing in,” Veles said. He stopped and pressed a palm to the nearest tree. “For Narina, for the wild, for life,” he said. “Fight, old one. Fight for who you are. Help allies of the wild.”

  The ground shuddered and then a low moan tickled my ears. A shadow fell over us and then the branches were reaching for us, lifting us up into the canopy of leaves. My boots touched down on a thick branch and my back hit the tree trunk. Veles stepped into me, pushing me up against the tree, shielding me with his body as growls filled the world below.

  Veles’s heart beat against me, steady, reassuring where his chest pressed to my cheek. I closed my eyes and focused on that rhythm, ignoring the world below, forgetting the monsters that hunted us. There was only his heartbeat and his scent. Only his arms anchoring me to safety.

  Bitterness tinged the back of my tongue. Safety? He’d left me. He’d left me to die with Berstuk, and only a twist of fate I didn’t understand had saved me. He may have come back for me, but there was no guarantee that he’d stick around, that he wouldn’t hand me over again when faced with a similar choice.

  Veles pulled away slightly to look down into my face. “They’ve gone.” His gaze was an unwelcome caress, and suddenly I was angry again. Furious, in fact.

  “Get me back on the ground.”

  The tree lowered us as if on my command, and in that moment, the fact that we’d been saved by a tree didn’t even register; there was only my incandescent rage directed at Veles. But what could I say? You left me? He had no obligation to me. We weren’t friends, we weren’t anything. My emotions were a confused mess. I set off at a long stride but he caught up to me easily, took my hand, and tugged me in a different direction.

  “This way. We’ll go to the glade, and we’ll be safe.”

  I wanted to tug my hand free, to hit him again, to hit myself for giving a crud about the fact that he’d left me.

  Around us, the world was changing, the black barks of the trees were grayish-green now, and Veles’s pace slowed down until he came to a halt. He didn’t look at me. He kept his gaze fixed ahead, but his fingers, wrapped around mine, tightened a fraction.

  “I won’t leave you again,” he said softly.

  Something inside me cracked and a rough sob broke from my lips, followed by another and another, and then I was crushed to his chest by bands of steel, his lips in my hair, on the side of my face, on my neck. My sobs caught in my chest as a wave of heat rolled through me at his attentions, at his hand massaging the base of my skull, at the press of his mouth on the column of my neck. My head fell back as he trailed his tongue over my skin, marking me? And then his lips brushed the corner of my mouth. He paused, his breath warm and wanton on my skin. Just a slight turn of the head and our lips would brush, and yet neither of us moved. Was he waiting for me to make the first move? The ache to taste him, to take his tongue into my mouth, to open for him was a visceral need, but this wasn’t real. This was pain and fear and insanity.

  Finn was real, and he needed me. I pulled out of his arms and tucked in my chin, eyes squeezed shut to dispel the carnal craving that was shooting through every fiber of my being.

  Veles’s chest rumbled and then his fingers brushed my cheek, so feather-light it could have been a dream.

  “This way. This is the home of the wild ones.”

  He walked off into the growing green forest, and after a second, I followed. Laughter filled my head, cruel and mocking, and a shiver ran up my spine because there was no doubt in my mind that Berstuk wasn’t done with me yet.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Finn

  The ruins around us were damp with chill, but the air of foreboding and malevolence was gone. The riders had stationed themselves around us, and once again, a fire had been lit in our midst.

  Berries and what looked to be black-petalled flowers had been laid on a nearby slab. This place had been majestic once, a castle with turrets and towers now fallen into ruin and disrepair. But at least there was a roof to keep out the elements. There were only ten of us left now, and we huddled together as close to the fire as we could get without getting singed.

  My buttocks and thighs were numb from riding, but my head was clear. So many things were clearer now. The chasm … we were in the chasm. It had to be. Why they’d taken us or where we were headed was another question, one that would most probably only be answered when we reached our destination, but my gut told me that allowing that to happen was a bad idea. That if we reached our destination then there’d be no going back. How close were we? How much longer before it was too late.

  Barnaby had had the right idea to make a run for it. He’d just chosen the wrong moment to do it. But I’d been watching the moon and the stars as we ran, keeping track of the direction we’d taken. The key to home was back through the inky forest we’d first woken in.

  A shudder shook me at the thought of venturing back into that horrific place. But I had to try. I couldn’t leave her alone. I couldn’t leave my Wynter, so I watched the riders and waited for the perfect moment.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A fire crackled and a fragrant scent filled the clearing, sweet and spicy. Several figures lounged about, some by the fire, some by the river to our left. They had the same bark-like texture to their skin as Narina. But none were as striking to look at as Narina herself. Her hair was forest green, woven with dark blooms, and her mahogany eyes shone like polished conkers in the firelight.

  The air of oppression that had hung heavily in the atmosphere was gone, evicting the tangle of terror and fear that had been squatting in my chest.

  Veles stood in the shadows farthest from the fire, his back to me, hands on hips, head tipped up to the night sky. His long, dark hair spilled down between his shoulder blades, bare now to the kiss of the moon. The strange bulges that jutted from either side of his spine were more visible now. Extra bones maybe? But then my traitorous gaze slipped down, to the leather trousers that hugged his buttocks and thighs like a second skin. He cut a formidable figure, both alluring and terrifying because of the lethal horns that curled back from his head.

  “He’s remembering,” Narina said.

  I glanced across a
t her perfectly heart-shaped face, and she turned to meet my regard with an inquisitive one of her own. “He had no memory of himself and yet he saved you.” She smiled a small, secretive smile. “It simply proves that you cannot change the integral mettle of a man, even if you strip him of his past and experiences. It will comfort him to know this.”

  I supposed comfort was a scarce thing in this world. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand him, or you, or this place.”

  “This place is death, child. This place is a resting place, at least it was, a long time ago. Now this place is hunger and pain. There are only a few spots untainted by the necrotic effects of Berstuk’s influence. Only a handful of havens where memory can linger unfettered. This glade is one of them. This is my home, and his … or at least it was a long time ago.”

  “Veles lived here?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “So, he recalled his name?”

  “Yes.”

  “Interesting that you, a Yav-born, could draw that memory forth.” She poked at the fire with a stick. “But then who knows how Nav operates any longer. I have lost many of my memories, some I feel I will never retrieve, but one thing I can say for certainty is that this place was never intended as an abode for the living, and trapped here, in this home of death, many of us that reside often forget what it is to be alive.”

  She was making no sense. “Who are you? What is this place, really?”

  “We are the wild ones. We are nature. Beyond that, we do not know. This glade is our home, our last stand, because Berstuk has claimed the rest of our forest. But our combined energies have saved this glade from him.”

  It would explain the menace that covered the rest of the forest in a blanket of despair. It would explain the moans and weeping of the trees themselves. One of them had saved us, breaking free from Berstuk’s control to do it. But why? Why wreak so much havoc?

  “Why did he capture you?”

  She looked away, her throat bobbing. “Berstuk has a hunger for pain unlike any I have ever seen. It is a craving, a visceral need in him. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  The way she said it, the drop in her tone, and the way she averted her gaze spoke volumes. “You were searching for Veles, weren’t you?”

  She looked up sharply and then her lips curled in a smile. “Intuitive little human.”

  “Are you two …” Crud, why couldn’t I finish that sentence?

  She arched a brow. “Lovers?”

  It was my turn to swallow the lump in my throat. I kept my gaze on her steadily, not wanting her to see that their relationship bothered me, because honestly, why should it?

  “Yes, we were lovers.” She tapped the stick on the ground, tracing patterns in the earth with it. “But prior to that, we were friends. He left a long time ago to hunt, to scout, and he never returned. I realized that he may have forgotten, and I would have gone looking for him sooner, but the glade needed me. It needed my power. My people needed me.” She stoked the fire once more, and then peered into the pot hanging over it. “Almost ready.” She looked back at me. “I know why Berstuk captured me, but what I don’t understand is why he let you go.”

  Yes, that had been niggling at me too, and my throat was suddenly tight as if he were squeezing the life from me again. My hand went to my neck and Narina tracked the movement.

  Her eyes widened. “He marked you.”

  “What?”

  She reached for me, gently pulling my hand from my skin to study my neck, but she didn’t touch it. “Berstuk has left his mark on you, child.” Her dark eyes filled with concern. “He didn’t let you go after all.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She studied me for a long beat. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter, and when it does, it will be too late.”

  Her convoluted sentences and cryptic words were making my head ache, spawning more questions in my mind. We sat in silence for long, drawn-out seconds, lulled by the crackle and pop of the flames and the bubble of whatever concoction they were preparing.

  She’d said Nawia wasn’t for the living, did that mean…? “This place, Nawia … You say it’s for the dead?”

  She smiled absently, her gaze now on Veles’s form.

  “I saw a lake of … souls. Is this hell?” I pressed, needing to know the truth of where I was, of where Finn had been dragged.

  She turned to me with a frown. “Hell?” She let out a bark of laughter. “I suppose it must seem that way to you. But no. There is no hell, child. There is no heaven. There is only Nav, the land of the dead; Yav, the realm of the mortal living; and Pav, the realm of the immortal gods.” Her smile had softened. “I wish … I wish I could recall it.”

  Recall it? That meant she’d been there, which meant … “You’re a … you’re a god?”

  She blinked as if noticing me for the first time. “I suppose I was once.”

  “If you’re immortal, then how are you here? You can’t die. I mean, you aren’t dead, are you?”

  Her frown deepened. “No. I’m not. And neither are you, but immortal lives do not shine as bright as mortal ones. They do not satisfy hunger as absolutely as mortal ones.”

  “So, why are you here?”

  “I … I don’t remember.” She shook her head. “It’s a curse we all carry. One that we hope will be lifted, but there is no escape. We’re trapped between the sea of souls to the south and the shimmer to the north. There is only Nav for eternity, and believe me, eternity is a very long time.”

  “Time? Veles said there was no time here.”

  “Not in the way that mortals measure it, no. Here, time is measured in deeds and distance, and in the space between heartbeats. Here, time can stand still when there are living hearts to measure it. And now, even the Yav dead are trapped once they arrive. No longer able to return to Yav in fresh bodies, no longer able to move forward to Pav to join the immortal beings. Instead, they inhabit trees and hide in mountains. They merge with the earth and nature or drift on the wind. If they are lucky, maybe they find their way through one of the cracks in this reality, maybe they find their way back? But even those are narrowing, and soon there will be no escape for the souls.”

  Cracks. A possible way out of this place. “What about Veles? What is he? Is he dead?”

  She let out a bark of laughter. “Veles? Oh, child. Veles isn’t dead. Veles is death.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Had I heard her right? Had she just said that Veles was death? She was watching me speculatively and a little too intensely.

  “He marked you too, and now Berstuk has marked you. Your soul seems to draw powerful beings to it. Why are you here, Yav-born? Veles mentioned you entered of your own free will, but he didn’t elaborate on why.”

  “Finn, my friend, was taken by the Silver Riders. Veles agreed to help me track them. We hoped to intercept them and get Finn back.”

  “Ah …” The tone implied more than dawning comprehension.

  Her gaze flicked back to Veles. He’d tucked in his chin and was turning our way.

  “What? What does Ah mean?”

  She shrugged. “It means that you may be too late. The riders passed through the glade recently; that would put them at the castle ruins by now. They’ll rest there a while, and then make the final stretch through the mountains to the shimmer. Even if you leave this moment, you won’t catch them. Once they ride, they are untouchable. By the time you bridge the distance between here and the ruins, they will already be in the mountains.”

  My heart sank. “There has to be a way to catch up to them. Veles said he knew shortcuts.”

  She offered me a half smile. “Yes. Yes, he would. That’s what I’m afraid of.” The last few words were said under her breath, almost as if not for my ears.

  And then a shadow fell over us.

  Veles.

  I looked up into his face, less brutal and more regal, as if his memories had altered the very structure of his visage. He crouched beside me and reached for my hand.
His thumb ran over my knuckles, sending tiny shocks through my fingers.

  “If we are to catch up to the riders, we should leave soon.”

  “Veles,” Narina protested. “Are you sure about this?”

  Veles smiled a crooked, disarming smile that flashed a fang and sent my pulse into a canter.

  “Narina, Nawia is my domain. The creatures in it are my responsibility, and I have spent long enough hiding from myself. You know that I do not shirk my commitments.” He looked to me. “Eat a bowl of stew, you’ll need the energy, and then we’ll find your friend.”

  He straightened and wandered off toward the river, toward a group of wild ones who greeted him with smiles and bows.

  He was a king of sorts, the king of death, and this … Nawia was an underworld. But what had twisted it and trapped all these creatures here? Whispers on the wind behind us had me shifting closer to the fire. The souls that Narina had spoken of, maybe?

  Narina nudged me with a bowl of murky but fragrant stew. “Drink this.”

  “What is it?”

  “Obsidian bloom and poppy flower with a dash of honey seed.”

  “How does everything grow here? There’s no sun.”

  “Your rules don’t apply here. Things grow here because Veles lives. This is his land, and all of us are parasites feeding off it.”

  “And Berstuk?”

  “A disease.” Her lips curled.

  A disease, who for some unknown reason had let me live. I drank the stew, sighing as it hit my stomach. Oh, God, that was good.

  She took the bowl from me, her lips tight. Something was bothering her, something she was debating whether to tell me.

  “Narina? Is there something I should know?”

  “Yes. Yes, there is,” she blurted out. “Although Veles would not be pleased if I told you.”