Dark Tide Rising (Book 1 of The Bright Eyes Trilogy)

by J. M. Rojas

CHAPTER 11: WAR COUNCIL

  A large, yellow moon, like a cat's eye, pierced the night sky, glaring down on Willow through the scant, charcoal wisps of night-cloud. Here in the industrial part of town where there was no challenge from the street lights and car lights, the stars shone bright.

  The young girl ran into the dark alleyway, flanked by two men in hooded coats. They were not chasing her, but following, making their way to a small gathering of silhouettes at the end of the narrow street. On both walls there was a scrawl of crude graffiti and thick, rusty pipes that snaked in out of the old bricks. The few windows and doors between the buildings were damaged and weathered, for they opened into abandoned warehouses not shops, and seldom saw use or maintenance. Overhead, flickering lights feebly lit the shadowy length of the alley.

  When the three stopped at the end of the alleyway they were met by hideous and cruel laughter. A large, rough-looking man in ripped jeans and a hooded flannelette shirt pinned another man against the wall with his forearm, holding him a couple of feet above the ground. Watching on in dark amusement were three other hooded figures with arms folded over chests. The squirming man held against the wall, who wore overalls of a factory worker, looked wide-eyed at his vicious assailant. The thug was crushing his windpipe and choking him slowly to death.

  “Feeding already, Dart?” the girl hissed, crossing her arms in disapproval. Three red lights burned threateningly under her hooded jumper: two feline eyes and one Doom Stone shard buried deep in the girl's forehead. When she peeled back the hood, Cassandra Veil's porcelain face and blonde hair was revealed. “Gha'haram has made it abundantly clear that we are not to draw attention to this part of town. Sure, feeding in the city is fine, because disappearances are common there. But here, at the Meet, it is too risky.”

  “Veil,” the thuggish brute—whose face was scabbed and peeling—addressed the newcomer with a respectful tone, turning away from factory worker who was turning blue from lack of air. “I didn't intend to... until this fool,” he growled, turning his baleful gaze back at his victim, “stumbled across the warehouse. Thought we were squatters or vandals or something. Besides, I had to exert my strength after the last fight down by the river with those lore-kin, and my flesh is already beginning to decay. Curse this hunger!”

  “Fine,” Veil said nonchalantly after a moment's pause of contemplation. She couldn't spare losing another soldier tonight. Waving a hand, Veil gave Dart the permission to finish his 'feed'. “Get it over and done with. Dispose of the bones when you're finished.”

  The factory worker suddenly found the strength to break free of the arm for just one second and scream the last of his air out of his lungs, before the Revenant thug clasped both his broad hands over the man's face and pushed him down to his knees. His face lit up under the red glow of Dart's fingertips, and suddenly his body seemed to dry and crack as if he was white china. Then the man exploded into spray of ash, leaving a pile of bones behind.

  A surge of energy rippled through the reeling Revenant's body, causing the wounds on his face to heal in the blink of an eye. He looked drunk in ecstasy of the kill.

  “Hurry, the bones,” Veil commanded, pointing at what was left of the man. “Xharan is—”

  “Already here,” a voice spoke behind her. She spun around and found a very tall, white-haired man standing under a spill of dim street light just several feet away. He was dressed in black, and had a tattoo of vines crawling up the right side of his neck. A blue and green eye glittered mischievously back at Veil under a heavy brow. “Did I startle you, my dear?”

  The girl gasped, followed soon after with a scowl on her face. Her eyes spied one of the wooden doors in the alleyway open, and a thin mist of dust swirling under its overhanging light. Veil's look of anger at being surprised softened. “Greetings, Xharan Ar'Targ.”

  “What have you to report, Revenant?” the man called Xharan said. “Willow was to be scoured for Thomas' children.”

  “It has been,” she retorted, mildly indignant. “And we have found two of the three.”

  “Three?” Xharan's eyes widened at the smug reaction of all the Revenant. “So it has been confirmed then. What of the other?”

  “The eldest, Jack, has disappeared,” Veil answered, her words holding no allusion to the answer. “I posed as a student at his university during the hunt, and exposed his identity almost by accident.”

  The last comment drew a hard look from Xharan. “Where did he go?”

  “I cannot guess, but I fear that Oreus has intervened. I have seen Lemurians—mostly heard their mind-speech. Not to mention their snivelling lore-kin who seem to be everywhere. We were attacked tonight by two of them after we had cornered the younger children. They managed to kill my men and escape.”

  Xharan chuckled, seemingly to himself. “It seems Kaelan may have been right. Oreus and Aramthias' interest in this town was not empty suspicions after all.”

  “Kaelan's traitor was useful then,” Veil stated with a smirk; however the rebel Atlantean did not seem to hear.

  “I still have my reservations,” Xharan continued, suddenly sounding doubtful. “There has been many supposed 'sightings' of the Grey children throughout the country, especially in the towns of Deep Ridge, Halifax, Kingston and Haleton—where Thomas was killed. Your vampire slaves have almost drunk half those towns dry on the whiff of rumours that the children were there. Shadows and rumours. Why should the Dark Tide believe Gha'haram's mercenaries until it has been truly proven?”

  The group of Revenant growled almost inhumanly in anger at Xharan's disrespect, but the tall man did not seemed threatened. Then, as if to justify his confidence, two more rebel Atlanteans stepped out of the door Xharan had exited, carrying glaive-morphed tridents. They also towered over the undead creatures, including Dart, and were strong of limb with a dark look in their eyes.

  “I have given you my word!” Veil hissed, but she did not make a move against her superior. The Dark Tide were proficient fighters and Veil doubted her and her men would survive a confrontation with one, let alone all three.

  “I did not say I didn't believe you, Veil,” Xharan said diplomatically, holding a hand to stop his companions—whose eyes were now glowing white—from stepping towards the agitated Revenant. “I merely said I have my doubts, which need to be sated. You are Revenants, yes, but new-worlders. Mercenaries, criminals—” his eyes flit across all the Revenant faces and then stopped on Veil's “—runaways. All granted but a fraction of Gha'haram's Unending Blessing. You share no blood and wisdom with my people.”

  Veil felt the barb of his words, but held back dark words. Her fists balled, her head lowered.

  “Let me accompany you back to where you fought the lore-kin and we will track down these children. Find out if they truly are worth our trouble.”

  “You will find more than just trouble with those ones, I fear.”

  “I enjoy... trouble,” Xharan replied, grinning mischievously. “Perhaps too much.”

  Then the Revenant and Dark Tide rebels entered the open door to the warehouse where they began their war council. Xharan quickly gathered more rebels and lore-kin who were loyal to their cause, and Veil summoned a large force of Revenants and thug allies who served them. Xharan chose to lead the attack on the Grey house, for although he appeared to doubt Veil and her surveillance of the town, in truth he believed her words and wanted the glory of capturing Thomas' children himself. So he plotted the end of the Revenant army in the back of his mind, hoping to also kill Gha'haram and take his place as Kaelan's most trusted general.

  “Atlantis?” Elly half-whispered in her wary state, dipping in and out of sleep. “That is nonsense. Its a myth.”

  “I'm afraid not,” Rowan said, sitting at the end of her bed. “It exists. And I will prove it to you.”

  The womanʼs eyes shot open and did not let the weight of sleep close them again, saying, “How? Have you seen it?”

  “No, only in a dream.”

  Then the door opened and Ja
mes led Alora and Caleb in. “Mother,” he said, holding back tears, aching to be in her arms, but keeping his dignity in tact before the older men. “I—”

  “Come here,” she cooed, opening her arms.

  James folded under the weight of sadness and ran to her side. He rested his head on her shoulder for awhile, not saying a word. His thoughts his own.

  “There is something I am about to do,” Rowan finally said, standing, drawing all eyes on him. “And you will be surprised. Even scared. But I want you to promise me that you will not scream.”

  “W-what?” Elly asked her oldest son, pulling James tighter into her arms. “What is it?”

  “This...” Rowan pulled opened his jacket, revealing a chain wrapped around his chest several times. Elly's confused look asked to know more. The man grabbed the centre of the chain and pulled, which caused the tangle of metal links to melt and reform into a long metallic rod in his outstretched hand. Slowly, the rod began to wedge along its length, before changing shape into a long-bladed sword. “A relic from that ancient, sunken city.”

  “Oh my!” Elly covered her mouth, holding back her shock and disbelief. Slowly she said, “How is that possible?”

  “It is possible because it is not a myth. Thomas—may he rest in peace—once showed me that great city in a dream. It filled my mind and consumed my senses. I felt like I was actually there! A marvellous dream. This weapon is called a glaive, and it was given to dad's people to defend their empire. There are many of them, but they rest at the bottom of the sea. Dad use to take me fishing—remember mum?—far out from the shore, where the water is dark and fathomless. He showed me miracles I could hardly imagine. How to speak with the mind. It is harder for me, because I'm not of Lemurian blood, like James and Alora are.

  The two siblings both gasped. James quickly pulled away from his mother's arms and gave his half-brother his unwavering attention from the edge of the bed.

  “So it took me a long time to unlock that part of my brain. But through time I learned quite quickly. We also went deep sea diving, and dad showed me old stones, which he said were from his time. Parts of great cities, he said. Not Atlantis, but Lemurian nonetheless. And we found... we found rusted wreckages that weren't sunken ships.”

  Elly did not say a word, but kept hanging on Rowan's every word as if any memory of Thomas—imaginary or real—was a way to connect with her dead husband.

  “What were they?” Alora asked in her small voice by the door. She slowly crept to the bed and sat next to James, holding his hand.

  “Sky-ships.”

  She gasped again.

  “Broken and unrecognisable... but not to dad. I helped him take them back to his hidden workshop.” Elly's wide eyes and soft gasp showed Rowan his mother did know of that secret either. “Bit by bit, piece by piece. There we rebuilt every single one. It took a long time, most of my college years, but we did it! We rebuilt all these sky-ships.”

  “Impossible,” Elly whispered. “He said you were at your uncle's fixing—”

  “Cars,” Rowan laughed, “I know. It was the biggest secret he told me to keep. When I broke that promise, in the summer of my graduation, he almost never forgave me.”

  “What do you mean?” Caleb finally spoke. He still held an empty bowl in his hands, which he had been nursing for sometime.

  “I took Emily down to the secret hangar. We were busted making out in one of dad's favourite sky-ships, the Silversong. Dad was angry, but made us swear never to tell anyone. He made Emily swear on the Atlantean Oath, a strong promise that no one can break. She was made a lore-kin after that too.”

  “Lore... lore-kin?” Elly asked.

  “Lore-kin are people who know about the Lemurians. Friends of the Library, dad would say. The Library of Alexandria in Egypt is their last home. But I digress. After she agreed, without any reluctance, Emily was trained to speak with her mind and fight too. We were tasked with protecting Jack, James and Alora on the debt of our very lives. A promise we can never break.”

  “Where is Jack?” His mother brought the question back to the answer Rowan dreaded to answer.

  “He is safe,” he replied. “But I cannot divulge that information just yet. If our enemy even gets a whiff of where Jack is right now, then all could be lost. Just trust me. Believe me when I say he is safe and out of harms way.”

  After a moment's pause, Elly slowly climbed up against the bed head, and swung her legs over the edge next to James. Her gaze was in her lap, and she seemed to be mulling over everything Rowan had said.

  “Speak to me with your thoughts,” she finally said, lifting her soft eyes to her eldest son. They were full of belief. “Speak to me how Thomas once spoke to you.”

  It is real, mum. All of it. His words were warm thoughts that brought tears to the womanʼs eyes. Dad never wanted you to get hurt.

  Caleb turned from the room and quickly left. Emotions were stirring in him that he was not prepared to face. Jack was somewhere he did not know, somewhere he could not reach—Paradise was a lie. A ruse to keep everyone, including him, in the dark. To protect an old family secret. I will find you, buddy. He thought, stepping outside in the warn night. He stood next to Emily—two silhouettes gazing at the stars in silence. I will find you and help you protect your family!

  Emily heard his thoughts and smiled softly. It was going to take that kind of spirit to see them through the night, she thought.

  Bird songs echoed in the cool and otherwise still night air, sounding distant and hopeful for the light of the sun. They also heralded the dark grey storm clouds that were thickening in large plumes over the horizon with the promise of rain. A humid, heavy, summer rain that was unrelenting.

  In the driveway, the Grey family were packing a light blue van with their bags and suitcases. Hastily they worked against the clock, taking everything except the furniture and white goods. Food was emptied from the fridge and freezer and put into an icebox, and every drawer, cupboard and wardrobe was left bare. A fear hung over the family's heads like the watchful eye of a predator lingering somewhere on the rooftops of the neighbouring houses, urging them to move faster. Rowan had told Elly of the attack in Merchant Park, and said that the Revenant hunters would be back, but in greater numbers. He said that the scent had been found, and Kaelan's attention would now be heavy on Willow. The Grey children were all that he wanted, and he would stop at nothing to have them and the memories they subconsciously carried.

  When the van was packed full, with only a small nook for James, Alora and Caleb to sit amongst the boxes, Rowan turned to Elly and said, “Emily will drive you to a safe house. Caleb is going with you, because they know who he is now. His house is beyond the park; he can't go home, it will endanger his family. I will be staying here to slow them down.”

  “No, no, no,” his mother replied worriedly, holding onto his sleeve and trying to feebly pull him to the van. “You have to come with us—”

  “There's no room, mum. And it won't take them long to discover which way we went.

  She began to cry and Rowan shook his head, refusing to give in to her plea for the sake of their safety. “You must go now. I will meet you at the safe house. Dad fortified that place very well, so you should be safe. These Revenant have only been searching the towns and cities for the kids, I doubt they have spies in the wilderness.” He paused for a moment, pondering his last statement with a little apprehension. “If by chance they do find the safe house, search for the trapdoor in the study. It will take you to the hidden hangar in the mountain. There are more doors in the woods, but I don't want to get you lost searching for them.”

  Emily helped Elly out of her wheelchair and guided her to the passenger seat. “We will be fine,” the blue-haired woman said, sparing her own concerned glance at Rowan over her shoulder as she climbed into the driver's side. “You'll be fine too, right?”

  “Yes,” he smiled softly, winking. “It takes a lot to get rid of me.”

  His fiancee laughed. “Now that is true.
” Love you. She added with a thought.

  Love you too.

  “Be safe son!” Elly called from the passenger seat.

  “I will!” Rowan said, and he turned to wave at the faces of Caleb, James and Alora who were squashed against the van's back door. “Now get out of here you lot, before the claws of the Revenant are on your tail!”

  The van pulled out of the driveway and sped down the silent street. Rowan stood his motorbike, which sat on the lawn, and watched them disappear around a corner before entering the house.

  “Now to get the place ready for our visitors,” he chuckled, giving the street one last scan before closing the door behind him.

  The storm hit, and its rain poured furiously upon the rooftops of the houses.

  Rowan paced the kitchen, formulating a plan. He had locked all the doors and turned off all the lights in the house to give a sense that everyone was still asleep. The thought of wiring the doors with explosives was his first idea, but he quickly abandoned it, realising the devastation it could bring to the nearby houses. Not to mention the further attention from the fire department and police.

  No, that's just erratic thinking. He thought, narrowing his brows in frustration.

  He pulled out his cell phone and dialled the number he had called only a minute before.

  A few rings and then a deep and husky voice said in a harsh whisper: “Hi, you've reached Jai Absolom's number. I don't know how you got this number, and I'm not sure I want to know how, but leave a voice message and I might get back to you. Bye.”

  “Its me again, buddy. I need you and Arthur down by dad's secret house as soon as possible. Like I said before, this is serious, there are a ton of Revenant after us. Hurry up, I'm counting on you.”

  Click.

  It was probably a foolish move to stand alone against the Revenant—

  It is. A voice suddenly popped in his head. Very foolish.

  What—who was that? Rowan replied to the darkness, dropping his phone in his leather jacket's inner pocket. He swung to face the living room where he thought he saw a shadow move. His eyes fell on the parted curtains of one of the windows, where the street light outside was silhouetting a wind-shaken branch. It looked like a skeletal hand raking at the glass. Answer me! He found the courage to demand from the unseen speaker.

  Silence except the low drumming of the rain outside.

  The ticking of the clock in the kitchen sounded loud in the eerie silence that shrouded the house. His heart beat thudded in time with the clock, and Rowan could hear his own breathing.

  The clock face read: 11:00 PM.

  Revenant or rebel, I do not fear you. Rowan spoke again, leaving the kitchen and stalking up the hallway to the bedrooms at the back of the house. The family pictures were barely visible in the low light; however his eyes were quickly adjusting. His glaive was in his hand, squeezed tight, its blade rippling and spiking at the skittishness of his thoughts.

  I am neither. The voice came again from no direction, but all corners of his mind. Do not be scared of me, Son of Thomas.

  “You knew my father?” Rowan said, raising a brow. “Are you Atlantean? Thulese? Avalonian?”

  I am none of them, but all. A consciousness from the ancient time, which survived the Fall.

  No one survived the Fall.

  Some did. But I am not here to argue that.

  Why are you here, then?

  I was a friend of Toram—Thomas as you call him. Came to him at times when things got desperate, to help however best I could. I believe one of those times is now. You face a great many enemies, lore-kin, and I fear you cannot defeat them all without my help.

  Rowan turned his head in every direction as he moved through the house. Finally he came before Jack's room. The door was left ajar, beckoning him to enter.

  How can I trust your word, without seeing you? Or knowing your name? Rowan said, opening the door with a finger. I need a name.

  There will be no name for now, because names are irrelevant to me. They mean nothing to my kind.

  Your kind? Rowan edged the door open even more with the toe of his boot. Jack's room was empty. Grey shapes in the gloom revealed a made-bed, a desk and lamp, and a bookshelf in the corner by the window. The closed curtains blocked the outside view of the backyard; however the cat, Jinx, sat on the sill, half covered by one side of the curtain, her tail flicking about as it peered outside. What is your kind?

  There was suddenly a rattle from the front door, as faint as it was from the back of the house, and Rowan threw his gaze out the bedroom door and down the hallway into the darkness beyond.

  They are here. Came the voice again.

  When Rowan looked back at the window, Jinx was gone.

  Against a fading night sky, diluted by the orange of a distant morning sun beneath the horizon, the Revenant and rebels descended on Hopeʼs Hill Terrace. It was somewhat reluctant at first, due to the weakening of night; but when the sudden rain-storm broke, it gave them a new cloak against any watching eyes, and their shadowy silhouettes moved with confidence as well as urgency. They clamoured over the rooftops, climbed into the backyards, creeped up to every door, and peered in every window. Kaelan's men did not know which house the Grey's resided in, but they knew the area. Veil reported to Xharan that she had heard snippets of conversation from the children earlier that night in the park, and had waited in the trees until she was certain who they were. She knew they wouldn't have walked far.

  There were countless numbers of them, all clad in black and armed, and moving in small groups. Rebel Atlanteans, Revenants and human servants that were lore-kin at some stage, but had fallen to the temptations of Kaelan's visions.

  Dogs barked in the warm downpour. Those that had not been taken inside their homes howled at the shadows that searched the yards and lawns. The shadows that stood still against the trees when the home-owners gazed outside their windows to search for the phantoms that stirred their pets' ire.

  When the search was growing risky against the speed of the dawn, Veil and her group finally found the lore-kin's motorbike sheltered under the open driveway of twenty-eight Hopeʼs Hill Terrace, covered by old bed sheets. Rowan's poor attempt at hiding the evidence made Veil laugh, and a dark glee filled her red-glowing eyes.

  “This is the house,” she said, pointing to the front door. “They will either be asleep, or waiting for us. I think it will be the later, as they now have lore-kin shepherds in their mix.”

  “Shall I summon the Dark Tide?” Dart growled eagerly over her shoulder. “They are two blocks away.”

  “No,” the Revenant hissed. “This is our glory. I do not want Xharan to have a chance at exulting his men over Gha'haram's. Call the others from across the street. Move silently. The back door must be secured and watched.”

  Dart nodded, and his heavy bulk vanished into the rain. The trail of red light from his Doom Stone shard glittering into the dying night like a swarm of fireflies. The rain would soon be gone, she predicted, so they had to make their move now.

  “The children will be ours,” the pretty, blonde girl said to herself as she began to approach the front door. Her long, black nails, suddenly grew a couple of inches longer...