Rising Dark (The Darkling Trilogy, Book 2)

by A. D. Koboah

  I sighed and did my best to pretend she wasn’t in the room, which seemed to be the only way to deal with her, as even a glance in her direction was apparently too much for her.

  After a while, I noticed the sombre silence had become charged. Celesta was standing by the table with her eyes locked on Luna. Thinking she was tormenting the girl mentally as she had done with her father the night he came to us for help, my anger leapt to the surface and I was about to speak when I realised there were tears in Luna’s eyes and the reason for her bad mood became apparent. Celesta’s memories were affecting Luna too. How could they not? It also explained why Master John had been entering her mind so often of late.

  I saw now that Luna was silently communicating with Celesta, showing the girl her past, the moment she knelt at the stream with the wickedly sharp rock in one hand, the herbs to abort Master John’s child in the other. She also showed Celesta that wild ride through the night that ended with me arriving in time to prevent that boy from killing Luna and Jupiter.

  “You’re safe now,” Luna said. “He’ll never let anyone do anything to you and neither will I. You understand?”

  Celesta nodded, probably too shocked to speak.

  “Now go tell your mama we don’t need you here tonight.”

  She nodded again and quickly departed.

  The silence in the room was heavy until I broke it.

  “Well, that was helpful. I am sure letting her see me rip apart and dismember those men will make her much more comfortable around me. And let us not forget the fact that they are not supposed to know what we are.”

  “I’m not an idiot! I’ve made sure she forgets most of the details by the time she goes to bed, only my words will remain and the fact that you saved me.”

  Silence descended on the room. After a few moments, I stood and came to stand behind her. I placed my hands on her shoulders. She reached for one of my hands and squeezed it. Despite my words, I was pleased because it was the first time I had seen her reach out to any of them, and I was relieved because I liked having the Morrisons at the mansion.

  ***

  A few days later I returned to the mansion after a short visit to town. The Morrisons were in the kitchen.

  “I just saw someone from your old home,” I said in an offhand manner. “He told me your old boss suffered a fall from his horse and was nearly trampled to death. In fact, they said he is crippled and may never walk again.”

  I expected some sort of reaction, perhaps discreet joy at this news, for I certainly did not like the man. What I got instead was a clamp down.

  Their expressions went blank and even their minds seemed to freeze over. Celesta, always uneasy in my presence, recoiled as if I had pointed a gun at her head. Samuel’s gaze slid guiltily away. Alba focused on the bread she was kneading as if her very life depended on it.

  I gazed at them. It was obvious they knew a lot more about what had happened to their old boss and that it was much more than a fall from his horse. I was curious, but not particularly concerned. It would have taken me only moments to search their minds and discover whatever it was that had made them react in that way. But I didn’t. Why should it bother me if one of the Negroes in this town had found a way to pay that cruel man back for his sins? Besides, Luna walked into the kitchen then, and my attention was diverted.

  It is curious when I look back at my memories and really look at the events that took place. All I saw that day was sunlight and joy. At the time, Luna walked into the kitchen, beautiful and resplendent in a blue gown with a high neckline, pinched waist, and ruffles along its bell-shaped skirt. I complimented her, she thanked me, I took her hand, and we left together.

  Now when I look at it, I see so much I ignored. She looked dazzling, as always, when she walked into the room. She paused at the door, gazing at each of the Morrisons in turn. Samuel and Alba looked away. It was only Celesta who met her gaze, the smallest, saddest smile grazing her lips before she left the kitchen. I was oblivious to the tension, the hidden threat in Luna’s eyes as she gazed at them before I took her hand.

  “You look beautiful, Luna.”

  When she looked at me, her gaze softened and she smiled, surprisingly shy as if it were the first time she had heard those words from me. “Thank you, Avery.”

  As we left the kitchen, she paused at the door to glance at Alba and Samuel one last time before she exited.

  I was so blind, my attention only on the painful thorns that existed within our relationship. One in particular had to do with never having heard Luna say three very simple—but extremely important—words directly to me either out loud or mentally.

  One night after the Morrisons had long retired to bed, we were in the drawing room and Luna was complaining about something Alba had said to her whilst I sat in the chair with a book, having learned long ago to not even attempt to interrupt her when she was in one of these moods.

  She stopped abruptly and regarded me with ice in her eyes. “Are you even listening to me, Avery?”

  I lay my book down and met her gaze.

  “No. Perhaps it is old age, but I find that nowadays it seems to be harder and harder to listen to your thoughts.”

  “Old age?” she hissed, taking a step toward me and tugging the book out of my hand.

  “And why should I bother, anyway?” I continued. “Your mind was once like an open field, nothing was hidden from me. But nowadays whenever I venture there I find locked rooms and fences barring my way forward.”

  “Keep on, Avery. You may just get that fight you’re so obviously itching for.”

  She flung the book in my lap and made to walk away, but I took hold of her arm, pulling her back around to face me.

  “Do you love me, Luna?”

  At first her eyes widened with shock and then she glared down at me before wrenching her arm out of my grasp.

  “How dare you ask me such a stupid question? Do I love you? I fought death for you.”

  “Because I have never heard you say it. Even now, you do not say it.”

  “I don’t need to say it!” She flounced to the door before rounding on me, her anger making her movements rough and jerky. “I have shown you a thousand times, in a thousand ways, what I feel for you. How can you not know what I feel for you? I live with you, give you my body and everything that I have, even though we’re not married. Yet you can ask me that?”

  “Oh yes. The marriage thing—again. I would happily take you to a church and stand before God and profess my love. But even if a white man could legally marry a Negro woman, the same magic that keeps us from entering a human’s home without an invitation is the same that keeps us from entering a church. Even if we are invited in, we still cannot enter a church. Or have you forgotten this even though we have tried it many times? And let us not forget that I have suggested we go to Europe and marry so our union—”

  “It doesn’t matter if we go to Europe and marry! A marriage between a white man and a Negro woman will never be accepted no matter where we go!”

  “I am sick of hearing you whine about not being married, Luna because we are married. The ring on your finger, and even more than that, the blood, my blood, that runs through you, and the bond we have that transcends time and space marries us.

  “I need to hear you say it.” I leant forward in my seat. “I can tell you a thousand times that I love you and not hear it ever said back to me. After all these years the silence starts to speak to me.”

  “Yes, you talk and talk and say you love me, but in the same breath you can throw me away into the arms of another man.”

  I stood up and moved to her, placing my hands on the sides of her face. She was rigid as a serpent, her anger pure and tangible like a third person in the room. “Do you love me, Luna? I need to hear you say it.” The last words were a whisper and I knew it sounded as if I were begging her.

  She merely watched me, her thoughts shielded, her eyes cold and dark like the surface of a pond. I looked into its depths and I saw and
felt no love there. After a few moments, she removed my hands from her face and walked out of the room.

  I was left shaking.

  She left that night and I paced the room in turmoil, reduced to tears. Did she love me?

  When she returned, I was alone in the drawing room, my face in my hands, the tears wrung from me. At first I did not know she was there until I caught a glimmer of her thoughts. I saw myself through her eyes looking beaten and wretched, and a small part of her relented even though she was still angry.

  She crossed the space between us, placed a hand beneath my chin and lifted my head so she could look into my eyes. Her reaction to the tears that had dried on my cheeks was more softening, but it also seemed to intensify some of her anger.

  “Of course I...I love you, Avery. I’ve shown you that time and again, so never ask me that.”

  Relief flowed through me. I pulled her to me, resting my head against her stomach and wept. For those hours here alone in the mansion, I had been so sure she didn’t love me. She exhaled and wrapped her arms around my shoulders and it was some moments before I realised that she, too, wept.

  That was the first and last time she spoke those words directly to me throughout the course of our union. And although my heart was eased by them, it felt like a defeat of some kind.

  Chapter 29

  Two years passed and we were relatively happy with the Morrisons, although the bliss we enjoyed was frequently disrupted by the mutual animosity between Luna and Alba, which only ripened as the years passed.

  Celesta, who was nineteen now, had not changed much during that time. She was still a quiet, timid young woman who had not lost her nervousness around me, or anyone outside of her family. But a deep bond had developed between her and Luna, and shortly after the Morrisons came to work for us, Luna began teaching her how to read and write. They sat at the table now, their heads bent over the books before them.

  On evenings like this, I normally sought Samuel’s company and left Luna and Celesta on their own. But Alba seemed to have developed a haughty, smug attitude over the last few days and kept regarding Luna with a sort of self-satisfied, insolent smile whenever she was near. Luna’s moods had been particularly vicious of late, and dreading the eruption that was bound to follow Alba’s change in attitude, I wasn’t letting Luna out of my sight.

  The confrontation I was dreading occurred when Luna rang the bell to summon Alba. She rang it a second and then a third time before Alba sauntered into the drawing room.

  “Alba, didn’t I ask you to bring us some hot chocolate about an hour ago?” Luna asked.

  “Oh, that. I’s gonna bring it to you in a little while.”

  “No, you’ll bring it now!”

  Celesta rose from the table. “I’ll get it, Mama.”

  “You sit down!” the two women snapped in unison.

  Celesta sighed, but did as she was told.

  Luna got to her feet then and moved to stand before Alba, malice alight in her eyes.

  A mocking smile spread to Alba’s lips as if she had been eagerly awaiting the impending confrontation. I got to my feet and was about to intervene, but Celesta’s reaction stopped me. She didn’t appear nervous of the impending argument between the two, merely curious.

  Smiling now, Luna reached for a twine necklace around Alba’s neck, pulling it out from under her clothing.

  “What’s this?” she asked, smiling sweetly.

  I didn’t know what it was, but it was hideous. It appeared to be a pendant that was made of chicken feathers, animal teeth, and some stiff brown matter I couldn’t immediately identify. Alba’s mocking smile wavered and then disappeared. She seemed deeply disappointed and looked ready to cry when Luna unclasped the necklace from her neck and held it in the palm of her hand, still smiling sweetly.

  “Who gave this to you?” Luna asked, fingering it tenderly, her smile growing wider whilst Alba’s eyes began to fill with tears.

  “I...I... It was my mama’s.”

  “Really?” Luna scoffed.

  “Why don’t you give Alba back her necklace, Luna?” I said coming between them.

  Instead she handed it to me, her gaze locked on Alba.

  “What do you think of the necklace, Avery?” Luna asked, all innocence.

  Having no idea what silly game Luna was playing, I took the necklace, but then wished I hadn’t. The brown matter I observed appeared to be cow dung. I grimaced in revulsion.

  “It’s…um...beautiful,” I said and held it out to Alba.

  There was complete silence. I didn’t move as Alba’s face clouded over with anger, a hint of wounded pride making her bottom lip quiver.

  “If it be so beautiful, you go on and keep it!”

  With that she stormed out of the room, leaving me staring from Luna to Celesta in bewilderment whilst the two appeared to be trying not to laugh.

  “What did I do?” I asked.

  “You called it beautiful, not what you want to hear about a charm that’s supposed to incapacitate any demon that touches it,” Luna said. “With all the rumours in town about demons in our midst, I’ll sleep much better now I have this.” She winked at Celesta.

  I looked closer at it. “Is that what this is? It is certainly ugly enough.”

  Celesta burst into laughter, the first time I had heard her laugh. But the moment I glanced at her, the laughter disappeared and she swiftly returned her gaze to her book.

  We were still laughing about Alba’s charm later on that night, especially since Luna insisted on wearing it for the rest of the evening. As they were leaving for the night, Luna turned to Alba.

  “Thank you for your gift. Do tell Madam Garcou I may pay her a visit sometime this week, so we can have a long talk about the charms she’s been selling.”

  Terror immediately crossed Alba’s face. I know it was cruel, but I couldn’t help joining Luna in laughter once they left the room, especially when we heard Celesta, who rarely spoke two words, quietly admonish her mother.

  “Hush now, Mama. I told you that thing wasn’t gonna do nothing. Everybody knows Madam Garcou is just a crazy old fraud!”

  The following evening, Samuel came out to see me as I was lounging outside in the field of flowers staring up at the stars. At first he didn’t speak. He had his hat in his hands, reminding me of that night, which now seemed like an aeon ago, when he came to us for help. He seemed embarrassed. I waited, knowing he would say what he wanted sooner or later.

  “I’s sorry, Mr Avery, about Alba and that charm of hers,” he said eventually. “She can be bull headed about some things, but she don’t mean nothing by it. You’s been good to us and we know you ain’t never gonna let nothing bad happen to us. And Miss Luna, she can be mean at times, but I knows deep down she don’t mean it, and we’s grateful for all she does for Celesta. I hope you ain’t mad at Alba.”

  “Actually, I am,” I replied. “As Luna insists on wearing that god awful thing to spite her.”

  A smile erased the lines that marred his brow. “I’s mighty sorry ‘cause that thing’s the ugliest, smelliest thing I ever laid eyes on.”

  We laughed and he stayed for a short while talking about his wife and daughter and things concerning the running of the mansion. Luna ventured out to us a while later. We exchanged a small smile when we saw the hated necklace around her neck.

  ***

  A few nights later and the humour regarding Alba’s charm had grown thin. Luna was still wearing that ugly thing to taunt Alba. Celesta was in one of her low moods, something that normally made Luna and Alba take some measure to hide their mutual animosity, but not tonight. They were oblivious in their confrontation, and Celesta moved about like a nervous shadow enduring existence in a world holding no joy. If it ever did.

  Luna was staring at Alba as she brought a bowl of soup to the table, a stinging comment on the tip of her tongue, when she abruptly stood with a start, knocking her chair over, her face a mask of fear and anxiety I hadn’t seen since her mortal days. Alb
a and Celesta both glanced up at her, two sets of dark eyes turning to round pools of fear.

  I got to my feet. “What...”

  The images in her mind leapt out at me, images seen through mortal eyes so they were a jumbled confusion of dark woodland and disembodied shouts. Luna whirled to her left.

  “They won’t make it,” she whispered.

  She vanished.

  Celesta squealed in shock. The hot bowl of soup Alba was holding slid out of her hand and onto the floor, most of the soup spilling onto her skirt. If she felt the scalding hot soup, it had not registered yet because she was still staring at the empty space where Luna had been standing just moments ago.

  I did not have time to see the rest of their reactions, but shimmered out of the room after Luna, having caught a glimpse of her destination before she disappeared.

  It took me longer to reach the area I had seen in Luna’s mind and I flung myself out of the ether into woodland, materialising behind a group of Negroes. My ears filled with screams and dogs barking in the distance. There were about fifteen men and women and one boy, huddled together in a small pack, some trying to fight off a dog that had lunged at one of them, and was hanging on to the man’s forearm as he screamed in pain. The others searched about, terrified and trapped, too afraid to run ahead and unwilling to turn back. The racket of more dogs crashing through the undergrowth fuelled their terror. Their only other route of escape was blocked when I materialised in their midst, increasing their collective terror. I darted to the man who was being attacked by the dog and the rest backed away. I grasped the dog by the neck, using my mind to force its jaws open and release the man. I hurled it against a tree and it gave a yelp before hitting the ground where it lay whimpering in pain.