Dark Rain: Book 1 of The Aetherium Saga

by Jilly MacKenzie

  She lay back, sinking into the soft sofa, as Emile plonked down beside the fire on a large red cushion. Axel slumped onto the sofa opposite, sending a small cloud of dust swirling upwards around him, and he flexed his pained fingers as Cat settled beside him.

  Lenore’s throbbing ankle and stinging palms began to fade as she focused on the dancing flames of the fire, and let sleep take her.

  Chapter 17

  Just Another Cell

  The sound of distant slamming metal, echoing voices, and the numb sensation running down one side of her body, brought Anubis out of her unconscious state.

  She sat up and realised she had been sleeping on a hard tiled floor. Her body felt bruised, and she winced as her stiffened joints became accustomed to moving once again.

  Her spinning head steadied a little, and she remembered Drakestoke on fire, Deryk's entrails, and her dying moments in the late-December snow. But she had not died. He saved me. No. He had forsaken me, her thoughts seared with bitterness at his unwanted act of kindness, and she hoped he could feel her anger wherever he was.

  Anubis looked about herself and deduced that she was in a cell with no windows, one door, and a container in a corner. The stark white light above, began to dazzle her eyes, and she shielded her brows with a hand as she checked herself over.

  She recalled lasers penetrating through her thighs, arms, and back. There were small cauterised holes in the navy fabric of her Drakestoke attire. It wasn’t a dream… She rolled back her sleeves to view her skin. The holes in the clothing were still present, but there were no injuries. Only faint pink scars marked her previously marred flesh.

  Suddenly her cell door opened, and a man and woman dressed in grey IGS combat uniforms entered. They held energy rifles in a relaxed position diagonally across their body, and their boots sounded loud and heavy to her sensitive ears.

  The woman was middle aged and regarded Anubis with stern distrust, her hands tightening on her weapon, as she motioned for her to stand.

  Anubis was moderately weak from blood loss, and in discomfort from rough sleeping. She used the wall behind her to prop herself slowly up to her feet.

  Standing as straight as she could, she met their eyes with a nonchalant gaze through her mask. They're probably going to kill me. But will I actually die this time?

  The male guard’s eyes exuded pity and sympathy, and as if reinforcing her judgement, he moved forward to support her, but the woman stopped him with the nose of her rifle.

  A frown spread upon his mouth, and he eyed the woman with scorn, then cleared his throat.

  ‘This way,’ he announced softly to Anubis, motioning to the door.

  The woman tutted and groaned, rolling her eyes with impatience and she grabbed Anubis roughly by the arm and ushered her out of her cell.

  Anubis tried her hardest to appear unfazed by the treatment, but she was very weak and her body screamed for its needs to be met. Hunger, thirst, rest. She stumbled a few times, but kept her chin up and eyes facing forward, defiantly. Willing away her pain.

  She could hear the young man following close behind, and she could feel his pitiful grey eyes on her back. Keep your pity... I'm not afraid.

  They turned into a large office and a man was assessing correspondence messages on the large wall screen. He had his back to them and it wasn't until her female guard announced their presence, and he turned to face them, that Anubis froze with a flood of recognition. Richard Lloyd.

  His amused eyes met hers, and his gaze seemed to pry into her darkest depths, searching for her unspeakable secret. But how would he know?

  ‘Lady Morwenstow!’ he declared, ‘How lovely to see you again.’ He crossed the room towards her and motioned for the guards to leave, then looked her up and down, circling her bemusedly.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ he stopped in front of her, eyebrows raised. ‘You've certainly seen better days.’ His face switched from amusement to feigned surprise.

  ‘But wait! You shouldn't even be here. You should be dead right now, actually.’ He placed a hand on his chin as if thinking hard, and moved closer to her. She narrowed her eyes at his intrusion of her space.

  ‘Still so beautiful,’ he sighed, ‘Such a shame you have that… obstruction on your lovely face,’ he waved a hand over her mask.

  Anubis sneered with contempt as he eyed her body, and he laughed.

  ‘Look at you!’ he sang, ‘Still so… defiant!’ and he began to pace away from her.

  ‘Tell me, Vicki dear, where is my son?’ he enquired lightly as if speaking to a child.

  Anubis tensed her jaw and continued to meet his eyes in a fiery stare. I would tear out your insides where you stand, just like I did your pathetic son, she thought bitingly, imagining him choking on his own blood.

  Her own anger gave her away, and he bolted over, slamming her into the wall.

  ‘You know something! I know you do,’ he bellowed.

  ‘Did he make it out alive!’ he demanded. ‘He's a smart lad, he had to! I sent my men over as soon as possible to evacuate him. He..’

  Seeing Anubis' defiant expression, he let go of her and clenched his fist in frustration, chuckling breathlessly as he moved away from her.

  He’s a madman. Just like his son, Anubis mused.

  ‘I know all about your pathetic silence,’ he revealed. ‘Seems my prescribed weekly electrotherapy was unfortunately ineffective at making you scream. It was your punishment for ruining my sons life.’

  I ruined his life? By murdering his own child he damned himself And it seems that Madame Cavere took pleasure in defying you, for I definitely received much fewer sessions than you wanted.

  He slammed his hand on a desk. ‘And what the fuck is with the alien symbols where you lay, supposedly dying!’ he exclaimed.

  Alien symbols? Anubis puzzled in astonishment. Is that what he is? My shadow man is an alien?

  ‘Why is everything strange somehow to do with you?’

  That, I do not know, she mused.

  He paced with his hands behind his back, and his deeply wrinkled face was an expression of enraged thought. Anubis followed his every move with steady judgement.

  ‘You somehow almost kill my son, and lure the authorities to the crime, forcing me to work my ass off and pull every string possible in order to spare his life. Then, you are one of a gaggle of escapees from the contained destruction of Drakestoke, and are the only one my soldiers managed to bring down.

  ‘But, you spontaneously heal from your supposedly fatal wounds, and, an alien snow circle is present at the scene.’

  He took a deep breath and pinched between his eyebrows. ‘Now, does any of that seem just a little fucking weird at all to you?’ he asked.

  A soft beep sounded from a monitor and he turned to it irritated. ‘Yes!’ he yelled.

  A visor cam was activated, and an unfamiliar soldier’s face came into focus on the screen.

  ‘Sir, we began the post-destruction inspection at the only open door of the facility...’ the soldier informed, ‘and we believe we have found your son, sir.’

  Anubis' blood ran cold, and she braced herself for the inevitable revelation.

  ‘Well? Where is he? Is he okay? Get him here as soon as possible, enforcer!’ Richard demanded impatiently.

  ‘Well sir, he is... umm... sir, he's...’ the soldier hesitated, then switched his visor cam to front view, instantly revealing a dark pile of entrails and offal. The camera zoomed in on the collapsed and twisted body, and the face of Deryk Lloyd, contorted in pain.

  ‘Sir... we're sorry for your loss, sir-’

  ‘Where in the facility is that?’ Richard shakily interrupted.

  ‘The isolated section, sir.’

  Richard's face turned dark with realisation, the deep lines seemingly giving him a more demonic form. His menacing scowl turned to Anubis.

  ‘About 12 metres from the exit the escapees used, sir. He almost made it.’

  ‘Cut!’ Richard’s explosion ended the transmiss
ion, and he stared at Anubis with fury. A fury she understood, and she took a few hesitant steps backwards, arms tensed and ready to defend.

  The IGS enforcer had unknowingly sentenced her to death. And Anubis anticipated that it would be a painful death.

  ‘Again. It all seems to trace back to you… You fucking bitch!’ he wailed and he swung a powerful punch up into her midriff, causing her to curl over from the blow, and she collapsed gasping for breath. Her lungs felt like they had collapsed right there and then.

  He launched a kick into her stomach, sending her sliding across the floor, and she hit the nearest wall hard with her back. Placing a hand on the wall to steady himself, he kicked her twice more, catching her on the forehead, and the ribs. The head kick had stunned her, and her vision blackened.

  She heard the door suddenly open, and Richard stopped his attack, panting heavily.

  ‘Sir, shall I take the prisoner back to her cell?’ the familiar voice of her male guard enquired quickly, as if he couldn’t get his words out fast enough.

  She heard Richard grumble something, before her hearing too, failed her. Anubis felt like she would never breathe freely again, forever gasping for air like a stranded fish. Her own ribs seemed like swords, digging into her tender body. She throbbed everywhere, presumably from broken bones.

  She felt her body being hauled up by somebody and carried away. Floating. Oblivion take me.

  Chapter 18

  The Wolf

  Lenore rotated her ankle in circular motions, and was pleased with the dull pain and absence of stiffness. Five days of rest had healed it nicely. She had been waking up later than everyone else, and she looked up at the dark wood grandfather clock beside the hearth. Quarter to four.

  The abandoned home the group occupied, had quickly become a welcome retreat. They had explored every inch of the house, bringing blankets and pillows to the main reception room, so each of them had a comfortable sleeping place near the constant warmth of the fire. Lenore guessed that was the reason she was so reluctant to wake from her slumber.

  Finn was sat in front of the flames, scoring lines into the tough spikey covering of sweet chestnuts, and then proceeded to roast them on the fire.

  He has barely left my side since we've been here. Always tending the fire and prepping the nuts and apples that Cat and Axel foraged.

  Emile entered with a small paperback book from the attic room upstairs, and settled down in the corner where her mess of blankets and pillows were.

  They had all slowly began to heal from their ordeal, as if the isolation and basic living had cleansed their minds.

  Although, Axel had become a problem. His withdrawals from his daily medication had brought about a troubled disposition, with bouts of frustrated anger. As a result, he was regularly away from the house, taking it upon himself to forage for the group, alone.

  Cat was upset and worried by his sudden shift in mood and behaviour, and tried to give him both the space and support he needed. It must be very hard for her, to not have him as close as he usually is, Lenore sighed.

  She regarded Finn's sleepy face, his sandy hair was a windswept mess. His cuts are healing well, she noted, studying the small gouges on his cheeks and his jaw.

  ‘I tried to save her, you know,’ he suddenly stated, as if reading Lenore's thoughts. ‘The crazy girl that did this,’ he motioned to his cuts.

  ‘I had hope she would come round after I had gone to pack. She didn’t. She was already dead from the smoke, when I returned,’ he revealed, cracking open a steaming chestnut, and handing it to Lenore.

  She smiled and took it. ‘I know, Finn. You don't have to explain anything. It all happened so quick. We all could have probably done more, if we think about it.’

  They both smiled at each other, biting into their warm treats. Lenore had found the chestnuts to be an acquired taste, but soon found them sweet and comfortingly earthy.

  As she looked into the flames, she could not help but allow her mind to wander back to Drakestoke. To its beautiful hallways, and a masquerade ending in fire and death. A masked woman, who finally got her revenge and then sacrificed herself for a group of strangers.

  ***

  ‘Just give him what he wants,’ whispered the IGS guard as he escorted Anubis once more to Richard Lloyd’s office.

  It doesn't matter what I do. He means to make me suffer regardless. Her kind guard, blonde and American, had taken it upon himself to risk his position in sneaking her extra rations of food under her door. He also took the place of other guards which would most likely have tormented her more. Why does he care? He's an IGS officer, and I'm a prisoner. I killed his boss's son, she thought bitterly as he marched her to another interrogation.

  She could feel her body weakening every day, despite the medical attention. Every interrogation he abused her, and afterwards, sent her to the medics. A vicious cycle of pain and healing, pain and healing. Richard was succeeding in breaking her body, but not her will. She would never break for him.

  Upon entering, the usual restraint chair was present, and so was Richard Lloyd, waiting expectantly with arms crossed.

  ‘Welcome, Lady Morwenstow!’ he greeted as she was steered to the seat, and secured in by her forlorn guard.

  Her guard went to join two others at the far wall, standing straight and motionless, awaiting to watch silently as their boss tortured a prisoner.

  ‘Well, well, Lady Morwenstow. My dearest daughter-in-law,’ Richard began, ‘I know you haven’t been one for words so far, but tonight...’ he moved aside, revealing a silver tray of various knives and serrated blades. Amongst the onlookers, her gentle young guard stiffened, and his brows knitted in worry.

  Richard turned slowly to her, smiling proudly,

  ‘Tonight, I think you will reveal all,’ he picked up a small saw-like blade and felt its edge, ‘Starting with that retched mask,’ he stated, pointing the blade towards her.

  Anubis realised what Richard had planned, and she was afraid. It wasn’t fear of the pain, but fear of being forcefully parted with the only thing that reminded her of her son. It was her second skin. Made by Leo's little hands. Made with laughter, and silliness, and love. And she was going to have it taken from her.

  ‘Sir, I...’ her guard interjected.

  ‘Silence, Officer Daniels!’ Richard snapped, ‘Or would you like the honours?’ Her guard swallowed, and put on an expression of nonchalance, returning to his attentive position with the others.

  ‘Very good,’ Richard continued, ‘I want this pleasure for myself.’

  He prowled behind Anubis, and moved her wild brown hair out of the way.

  ‘I want the identity of your Anuna, Victoria,’ he whispered menacingly through gritted teeth. ‘But also, I'm doing this for my son. And also maybe, for me,’ he shrugged comically and slid around to her right side.

  He jammed a finger under the edge of her mask, and she winced as her skin was tugged by the lines of industrial glue. Glue which had been fixing the mask to her skin for almost 3 years.

  Smiling, Richard slid his blade under her mask, and the initial shock of cold metallic made Anubis jump. It felt so violating as the blade slid around over her face, feeling and testing every line of glue.

  Anubis' heart raced, and she gripped the arms of her chair in fearful anticipation. Then, too suddenly, he began to sever the bond between face and mask.

  She let out a piercing scream, the pain stung her, making her eyes water.

  The serrated edge sawed through a line of glue, and she felt warm blood trickle down her face. Unable to move in her restraints, she closed her eyes tight in agony. All she could do was scream. Her voice, unused for many months, was croaky, and broken, creating a blood-curdling, wild shrill.

  All three guards were shifting uncomfortably by the wall, eyeing her with concern. Her kind guard's eyes were watering with sympathy, his face tight, and brows knitted with disturbance. Her will faltered, and her thoughts begged for help.

  Line after li
ne of glue was severed, carving the top layers of skin off her delicate facial flesh. She screamed so much, her ears rang with the sound. Her face and neck were painted with warm sanguine streaks. The mask was loosening, until one final cut tore it from her forever. A severed cord between her and her son. Broken, and stolen.

  ***

  ‘Wolfie! Please stop!’

  Cat had found Axel at dusk, in the treeline of the forest just outside of Blois. She was shocked to find him bashing his head against a sturdy beech tree.

  ‘Kitten… Go away…’ he groaned, then directed his anger onto the pile of sticks he had collected for the fire, swinging them against the tree.

  Cat was afraid to approach him, she knew better. Instead she resorted to trying to divert his attention away from aggression.

  ‘Wolfie!’ she called with enthusiasm, ‘Pick up the sticks and lets go back into the warm. We'll have something to eat too.’ He looked at her, panting, and his scowl softened a little as he nodded and proceeded to gather the broken fragments.

  She turned and began walking back towards the city, listening intently to his steady footsteps behind her, when suddenly the sticks dropped with a rattling thud. And then the fast crunching of heavy feet in snow, coming for her at speed.

  Spinning around, she skipped out of his reach. He missed and stumbled into the snow with a huge grin, and she giggled at him uneasily.

  ‘Wolfie, you're so silly.’

  His grin quickly morphed into something malevolent. His prominent canines were exposed in all their glory, no longer a vision of beauty to Cat, but one of fear and danger.

  Axel was poised in the snow, his ears attentive, and his hair was hackles. A chill enveloped Cat, her skin crawled with warning, and she ran.

  He leaped out of the snow after her, and when he was almost upon her she ducked to one side, causing him to stumble again. He spun around, scowling at her.