by Frankie Rose
Faceless attackers chased me through a dark and winding maze. I spun left and then right in an attempt to escape, but each time I turned a corner I would run straight into another assailant, its featureless face menacing and sinister as it gripped my arms with steel fingers. I would wake up at this point each time and then slip back under into restless sleep, starting at the beginning of the maze all over again. But this time… this time was different.
Every part of my consciousness was alert. It was the same maze. I was still being chased, but this time I could feel my heart trying to thump its way out of my chest. I could smell the fresh, crisp aroma of winter on the night air, and the terror that ripped through my body was all too real.
The men were coming. The only way to escape them was to escape the maze. The walls were much taller than I was, and I had no hope of seeing a route to safety over the top of them. Instead, I began to take the left hand turn every time I was presented with a crossroads. That was a guaranteed way of finding the path out, but only if they didn’t catch me first.
I ran so hard my legs felt like they would collapse out from underneath me. The thick, rough hedges snagged and caught at my skin. Head down, I staggered forwards, blindly keeping to the left and praying they wouldn’t be waiting around the next corner. Turn after turn left me dizzy and disorientated, but when I spun around another looming corner I found myself trapped. I couldn’t turn left. I couldn’t turn anywhere. I had reached the large, open centre of the maze.
In the middle of the clearing, surrounded by four intricate wrought iron benches, was the largest oak tree I had ever seen. Its branches were bare and spiny, naked against the foreboding sky. The woman hung from one of the higher boughs. She lilted in the breeze, and her tangled, dark hair fluttered around her face. But this wasn’t Daniel’s mother. It was mine.
Moira Hope’s open eyes were unseeing as she gazed off into eternity, and I choked back the scream already forming in my throat. Dried blood caked my mom’s deathly pale skin. It was everywhere. She wore a simple white dress that was torn at the shoulder and filthy, and her bare feet dangled a foot from the floor. She looked so vulnerable, like a broken china doll.
The flash of light glinting off the polished golden tip of a cane brought my attention to the figure sitting on the farthest bench. He twisted the cane in his lap as he sat there contemplating my mother. His posture was stiff. He was a stranger, and I instinctively knew I wanted to keep it that way.
I rose to my feet, praying that he hadn’t noticed me dash into the clearing. I managed to take a few cautious steps back the way I’d come before his sharp, eloquent voice broke the silence.
“Don’t you think she looks sad, Farley?”
Crap! He didn’t turn to face me, but his voice pinned me to the spot. There was no creeping away to be done now. In fact, there was no moving to be done at all. My mind went numb as I looked around for a way out, like a cornered wild animal.
“I know she used to be very sad because of the way her life turned out. But I mean, right now, in this instant…she looks particularly depressed, don’t you think?”
He sounded so thoughtful that I wasn’t sure whether he expected me to respond or not. A strangled gurgle bubbled in my throat in place of the scream that I tried to voice. The wind whipped up and my mom swung, causing the bough to creak and complain under her weight.
“Tell me, why is it, do you think, that women are so fragile, so easily broken? I mean in their minds and their hearts, of course. When it comes to your bodies, men and women are equally as weak,” the man said. He turned just enough to lock me in his sights.
My paralysis tightened under his gaze, threatening to choke the life out of me, to crush my ribs under the pressure that tightened like a vice around my lungs. It was useless. All I could do was stare back at him with wide, fearful eyes.
At ease, the stranger purveyed the scene at hand with regal, cold eyes. They flashed dangerously from me to my mother. He smiled with apparent curiosity as he studied the two of us. He was handsome in a familiar kind of way, and the eerie sense of recognition multiplied as he stood to approach me. It was something about his eyes. The well-tailored dark suit he wore over a crisp white shirt probably cost more than my whole wardrobe combined, and he carried himself with an air of nobility and confidence. His black cane clicked sharply as the golden end made contact with the paving.
“Now, I can understand your shyness. I won’t hold it against you. But in a moment, I’m going to ask you a few questions, Farley, and I really hope that you see it’s in your best interests to be as candid and frank as possible.”
I squirmed inside my own skin, trying to slip out of the mental grasp he held over me, but every effort to break free from the bands around my chest resulted in failure.
“I’ve got to say, when I decided to come visit you I thought our stage would be a little more flowers and butter cups, you know?” He gestured with the handle of his cane while smiling conspiratorially. “Someone goes to pretty dark places.” He looked around as if seeing our surroundings for the first time. “There’s not a single rainbow or fluffy bunny rabbit anywhere.” He lowered his voice, leaning forward and looking over his shoulder, giving the impression he thought Moira might somehow overhear him.
“Whatever the décor, I am pleased to be here. It’s good that we finally meet. And I am more than curious to know your thoughts on the little question of feminine frailty that I posed a moment ago. Especially considering your new, much heralded role in our grand demise. A tale of intrepid heroism beyond all comprehension, no doubt. Do you think you’ve got it in you?” He raised an eyebrow at me while he waited for a response.
I stared defiantly back at him, unable to make a sound, and he laughed out loud, enjoying his little game. In a flash he fell sober again, pushing the end of his cane up under my chin so the cold metal forced my head up.
He scrutinized my face as if trying to figure out what kind of creature I was, and then swiftly turned and stepped away. As he did, the pressure boring down on me suddenly evaporated, and I managed to haul a deep, gasping breath into my lungs. Sinking to my knees, I choked on the freezing cold air as it burned and stabbed through me. The stranger paced back and forth, looking up at the grumbling, roiling sky, as quiet thunder echoed in the distance.
“Who are you? What do you want?” I croaked.
The dry snap of the man’s laughter cracked the air like a whip. “You mean to say you don’t know who I am?” He sounded almost hurt. When I managed to lift my head to look up, I saw that he had returned to sit on the bench and was smiling scornfully.
“Come and join me if you will. We are family, after all.”
Instinct had whispered this dangerous and unwanted suspicion into my ear, but hearing him say it out loud was different. “Let’s have a father-daughter moment,” he said, patting the bench beside him.
So this was Elliot.
He wore a cold expression that made my skin crawl. There was no way I was going to sit with him. Even walking over to him felt unnatural, like swimming towards a shark. He growled with impatience and flicked his wrist ever so slightly. Before I knew what had happened, I was pulled towards him, the tips of my toes dragging on the paving. When I reached him, I paused, still frozen an inch off the ground. The vice flexed around my ribs again, pinching, making it hard to breathe.
“Candid. Frank. And compliant,” my father hissed.
With that I spun round in the air, slamming down to sit on the bench so hard the force of it winded me. I hunched over and squeezed my eyes shut tight, trying to formulate a way to escape this whole nightmare. Elliot watched intently, apparently enjoying my discomfort.
“So tell me, Farley. What do you know about me?”
“Nothing.” I winced through the aftershocks of pain jangling through my nerve endings. It was true. My mom had told me almost nothing about him.
“Oh, come now! That really hurts my feelings. Here…” he held his hand out to me in greeting
, “I’m Elliot. Your proud Papa.” My hand reached out and shook his before I could even attempt to stop it. He was playing me like a puppet on a string. “There. Wasn’t that civilized? Although, I must tell you, I did lie a little just now. I can’t really claim to be that proud. I mean, I’m sure you can imagine the hard luck it would be for the person that sired the beginning of the end? People can be very judgmental. I truly couldn’t believe it myself when they told me I was your father. My humiliation was sizeable. That’s why I’m dealing with this myself. It’s a matter of honor, you see.”
Honor? I didn’t dare tell him how honorable I thought it was to go around murdering people. I searched to see if I could locate an escape route. If the opportunity arose, bolting seemed like a sensible option. Elliot seemed to sense my thoughts. He cleared his throat and two faceless men dressed in black stepped out of the shadows. They blocked the exits back into the maze at both sides of the clearing. There was no way past them.
“Now that the introductions are out of the way, perhaps we should move onto those questions I mentioned. Tell me, is the old man still alive?”
Was I going to be able to lie to him? The answer to that question was instantaneous. My head nodded, making me choke out a frustrated gasp.
“I see. And do your friends have the talisman?” He took hold of my chin with his fingers this time and forced me to look at him. I struggled against his gaze but his eyes bored deep into me. I couldn’t move.
“No.” My voice was flat and lifeless.
This information seemed to relieve him. He released my chin, allowing me to jerk my head free. Smirking at my revulsion, he took a moment to look back up at my mother.
“Moira served as a wonderful distraction. She was very beautiful in some ways but so corrupted in every other. You remind me of her.” He ran his tongue over his teeth under his lips, as though trying to rid himself of a particularly unpleasant taste. “Do they have any leads about the talisman? Do they know where to find it?”
I battled, fought with every ounce of strength I possessed not to reveal their hand, to let him know my new friends had absolutely nothing, but in the end it did me no good. Again I told him the truth: they had no idea where to find it.
He nodded, satisfied with my response. His next question was poised, seconds from his lips, and I knew what it would be. He would want to know where we were, and I wouldn’t be able to lie to him. Before the words came, however, both of the featureless bodyguards stepped forward, drawing Elliot’s attention. Anger distorted his face, and he growled, something wild boiling just beneath the surface of his cool demeanor. I flinched away from him.
“Well,” he said stiffly, brushing his hands down the front of his suit to iron out the imaginary wrinkles. “It appears I have to—” He stopped short. Blue flames flickered into life, cuffing his wrists. They looked cold and frozen despite their shifting appearance, and they licked up his frame to engulf him in a glorious cobalt pyre. His mouth opened in angry surprise, and then…
I snapped awake, soaked in sweat and twisted so tightly in my bed sheets I could hardly move. What the…? Oh, come on? A dream? Seriously? That was the most vivid dream I’d ever had. The solid force I’d felt over me, reaching inside to move my body or to pluck information out of my head, seemed so real. I wrapped my arms around myself despite the heat of the room, my body shivering, stiff with fear and confusion. The image of my mom burned into my mind.
I needed water. I swung out of bed and made my way slowly down the corridor. At the junction of the corridor I turned left towards the bathroom but stopped in my tracks when I noticed the door was open. The light was on, illuminating a shaft of bright yellow light on the other side of the wall. I edged a little closer.
“Farley?”
The unexpected sound had my heart instantly in my throat, pounding. I steadied myself against the wall until I was sure I wasn’t going to have a heart attack. “Daniel?” I tucked my ruffled hair behind my ears and straightened out my twisted t-shirt. I found him sitting on the tiled floor with his legs crossed, an iPod resting on his knee. I could hear the soft strains of music playing—Bon Iver. Daniel didn’t strike me as a Bon Iver kind of guy.
“What are you doing?”
He took the earphones out of his ears and cocked his head at me curiously. “Waiting for you.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
No Apparent Danger
