House of Fear and Freedom (The Wyrd Sequence Book 1)

by Kimberley J. Ward

  Outrage wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the feeling that burned through her. How dare he find this amusing. Nessa managed to pull an arm free and brought her nails down on his face, raking four beautifully bloody gouges across his cheek.

  He reared back, the amusement fading from his eyes, and caught her wrist in a punishing grip. “Wildcat indeed,” he growled, forcing her arm back down, pinning it to her side with a bruising knee. “A rabid one.” His hand tightened on her outstretched arm, holding it still. “Now,” the pressure of the dagger increased, “let me make you into what you were born to be.”

  The blade cut deep, slicing her skin as easily as butter. The pain was slow to hit, and in that delayed moment, Shadow drew the dagger around her forearm, curving down in a spiral that circled her wrist, ran over her palm, and ended on the back of her hand.

  Nessa stared, absolutely horrified, as blood quickly welled to the surface of the wound. Warm and heavy, it ran in thick streams down her arm, pooling at her inner elbow before dripping to the ground. She made a sound of distress, biting back a scream, refusing to do so in his presence, refusing to let him see how much her arm burned with pain. Tears clung to her eyelashes, threatening to spill, making the world blur.

  “Shh,” Shadow murmured, sounding oh-so-far-away. “It’s nearly over.” He shifted, and Nessa heard the dagger sliding back into its sheath. She sighed, thinking that her ordeal was at an end.

  Shadow released her arm and it flopped to the ground, limp and hurting. Nessa didn’t have the strength to move it, and so it lay where it fell, weeping blood.

  Aoife took that moment to return from wherever she had been, coming to stand by Nessa’s head, watching Shadow with large eyes. Nessa felt a brief flare of hope, thinking, praying, that the little dragon would go for Shadow’s throat. The hatchling was small, but its claws and teeth were razor sharp. It was also fierce, as Hunter had discovered.

  Nessa’s hope was for nothing, as it turned out.

  Eyes locked with Aoife’s, Shadow slowly pulled off one of his leather gloves, presenting his hand to the hatchling, who cautiously snaked out her long neck and sniffed the offered palm. Nessa blinked heavily, trying to clear away the tears that misted her sight, and stared.

  There, wrapped around Shadow’s hand, was a terrible mark. Warped and twisted, the edges stretched, the scar was a dreadful thing, thick and a strange blue-ish purple. It disappeared up under his sleeve, where Nessa had no doubt that it continued up his arm.

  A low hum sounded from Aoife, coming from deep within the dragon’s chest, more felt than heard. Nessa labouringly turned her head, finding that even a simple task such as that suddenly took an inordinate amount of energy. Was it shock? Blood loss? Everything swam and she felt incredibly lightheaded as the humming grew in intensity.

  Nessa looked at Aoife and frowned, perplexed. Had she gone mad? Was she hallucinating?

  Soft light glowed from the dragon’s chest, directly over its heart. It was a gentle light, dimming and brightening in a steady beat, and reminded Nessa eerily of the orb’s―its egg’s― shifting luminosity.

  “There,” Shadow murmured as Aoife turned from him and went to stand by Nessa’s bleeding arm. “Just as I knew it would be. She has accepted you as her Rider.”

  A puff of breath tickled Nessa’s hand, cool and almost soothing on the wound. Then Aoife’s nose came down and touched her palm, scales rubbing against tender flesh. Nessa hissed and tears rolled down her temples. It took a great deal of effort not to beg for it to stop, for her to bite back the whimpers. She didn’t want Shadow to know how scared she was, or how much it hurt. It felt like he would win if she did.

  The puff turned into a long stream, and the light in Aoife’s chest shifted and swelled, rising in the dragon’s throat, into its mouth. It spilt out in a glittering cloud, dancing in the air like a will-o'-the-wisp before seeping into the cut on Nessa’s arm. The pain was excruciating and a strangled scream tore out of her throat.

  Then, after a second, the pain vanished, as did the glow in Aoife’s chest. Nessa was frozen, face covered in a mixture of sweat and tears, her lungs gasping for air. God, it felt like something had burrowed deep inside her, to a place that she hadn’t known existed. Her arm throbbed in time with her thundering heart.

  With a smooth movement, Shadow stood and offered a hand to Nessa. She gave him a glare that conveyed her immense dislike of him quite successfully, and his hand was swiftly retracted. Shadow moved away, giving her some much needed space.

  Nessa slowly pushed herself up, sitting hunched over as the world spun, feeling incredibly worn out and abused. Her hair fell in a long curtain, hiding her face from Shadow’s gaze as she pulled her bloodied arm onto her lap, intending to see what he had done.

  Her breath left her.

  She was unharmed. Under all the tacky blood, was smooth, uninjured skin. Bewildered, Nessa ran fingers over her hand, where she knew for a fact that she had been cut, where drying blood had pooled on her palm as evidence.

  “What the..?”

  The skin was tender to the touch and she looked closer, spying something beneath all the blood, a discolouration of some kind. Nessa peered at it, finding it hard to see in the muted firelight, but yes, she was sure of it, there was something there. Instead of a long winding wound, she had a tattooish-like mark, not too dissimilar to the one Shadow had. Whereas his was thick and stretched, the outline blurred, hers was neat and fresh, the edges cleanly knitted together.

  Nessa couldn’t be quite sure in the dimness of the cave, but while the cut had been a simple curved line, her mark seemed to have more shape to it. She looked through her hair, hoping to catch a glimpse of Shadow’s, but he had put his glove back on, hiding it away from her. Suspicions whirled in her mind as to what it might mean.

  Nessa found the strength to stand. “What the hell have you done to me?”

  Shadow watched her from his place by the fire. “I did what needed to be done. You’ll come to understand in time.”

  “I want to understand now.”

  Shadow appeared to stifle a sigh, barely. “The Bonding between dragon and Rider must be written in flesh, the mark of an unbreakable vow.” He nodded to her arm. “I have given you your mark, tying you to your dragon. You are now the Twelve Kingdoms' newest Dragon Rider. Congratulations.”

  “But I don’t want to be,” Nessa said, moving to stand opposite him, the fire sitting between them. “I want to go home. I want to be far away from you and Margan and goddamn dragons.”

  “What you want is irrelevant,” Shadow informed her, dark eyes alight. “Destiny is a hard thing to fight against, especially one that was written long before you were born.”

  “I don’t believe in destiny,” Nessa argued. “I’m going to find a way back home and then forget about this place.”

  “Your words lack a certain amount of conviction.” His amused grin returned. “And anyway, you had best forget about your home. The Twelve Kingdoms are where your future lie. The sooner you accept this, the easier things will be for you. There is no way back.”

  His words stuck a painful cord, one that ran close to her heart.

  “I might surprise you,” Nessa said stubbornly.

  Shadow picked up his overcoat, slipping back into it, and began wrapping his hooded scarf around his head and shoulders. “There is very little that you can do or say that will surprise me.” He turned, heading for the cave’s entrance.

  Perhaps Nessa should have kept her mouth shut. Perhaps she should have just let him disappear into the night. But the words came out of their own accord.

  “I saw you in my dreams,” Nessa blurted. “You and Margan both. You on a couple of occasions.”

  Shadow stilled, shoulders tensing.

  Nessa knew that she had made a fundamental mistake.

  With swift strides, Shadow rushed back to her, stopping frightfully close. Before she could take a step back or put a hand out to stop him, for all the good that would do, he reached
out and forced her chin up, fingers digging into her jaw. His eyes locked with hers, searching.

  “Already?” he whispered, startled.

  That was not what she had expected him to say.

  Nessa’s lips parted, although she could find no words, and her eyebrows drew together.

  Shadow gazed at her, understanding dawning in his deep blue eyes. He released her and stepped back, almost stumbling. He looked as if he saw her anew, as if his perception of her had changed with such a simple and bizarre statement.

  Nessa could see the thoughts whirling in his head as he backed away from her, thoughts she couldn’t even begin to identify and unravel.

  “How swiftly things come to change,” Shadow muttered, shaking himself. He spun on his heel, suddenly leaving with great haste, abandoning the circle of firelight and disappearing into the darkness of the cave’s mouth.

  “You have your freedom for now,” he cast over his shoulder, “but I will be coming back to fetch you when the time is right. Which may be a lot sooner than you think. Enjoy it while it lasts, however fleeting it may be, for there is no place on this earth where you can hide from me. You, Nessa, are of great importance to a great number of people. People who I’d rather not get their hands on you.”

  “Why?” Nessa croaked.

  “You are unique, a rarity, and will play a vital part in what is to come.”

  Then, in a flutter of movement, Shadow disappeared into the black storm outside, leaving Nessa to stare after him.

  “But what is to come?” she whispered.

  Only the crackle of the fire answered her in the sudden silence.

  Her arm throbbed and her knees felt weak, and then all strength left her; sobbing, she fell to the ground. Fear, it was a terrible thing. It had the ability to keep you strong, but it also had the ability to crush you if you let it. In that moment, Nessa’s fear, which had kept her fearless a minute ago, was suddenly threatening to devour her.

  Nessa didn’t react as Aoife rubbed up against her side, or when Hunter’s arm slipped around her shoulders, pulling her close. He murmured words to her, soothing, meaningless words, and rocked her slowly.

  Nessa held herself ridged, refusing to give in, refusing to appear any weaker than she already was. But his kindness and gentleness quickly broke her down, and the tears began to fall.

  For a long while, Hunter held her and comforted her without knowing why she was so distraught, and he became her anchor, preventing her from splintering into a thousand pieces.

  The sound of birdsong flitted into the cave, quiet but obnoxious, and incredibly unwelcome at that particular time. Nessa groaned, disorientated and uncomfortable, the cheery chirps ringing in her ears and making a headache quickly grow. She tried to ignore it, tried to fall back asleep, but once she was awake, that was it. Sleep was nowhere to be found and Nessa became all too aware of how achy she was. Dozing became impossible.

  She was resting at an angle, tucked up against something warm. The hard ground was digging painfully into her hip, and Nessa blinked open tired eyes, wondering why she wasn’t snuggled in her sleeping bag.

  Watery light filtered in through the cave’s mouth, faintly illuminating the cosy cavern. Nessa saw that the fire had burned out and that her sleeping bag lay off to the side, empty, as was Hunter’s. It then dawned on her that she was, in fact, nestled against his side, her head on his chest and his arm draped loosely around her waist. He was slouched back against the wall, eyelids twitching in sleep. Confused as to how they had ended up like that, Nessa started to slowly sit up, careful not to disturb Hunter, and her eyes landed on her hand.

  Realisation came crashing over her and she remembered with frightful clarity what had happened last night. She bolted upright, spine ramrod straight. Hunter mumbled and his arm slid from her.

  Nessa stared at the mark that curled around her wrist, over her palm, and ended on the back of her hand. It was strange and she turned her hand so that the light caught it at a different angle, thinking that it was her imagination playing tricks on her. But no, the mark was more than a simple winding line. It had a distinct shape to it.

  “Not possible,” Nessa whispered, yanking her sleeve up to her elbow.

  With the mark on full display, it became abundantly clear that it was more than just a simple scar. Nessa moved her arm around, watching as the light revealed what it was.

  A long thin tail wrapped around much of her forearm, with a lean body circling around her wrist, wings drawn in close to its sides, as if the creature was diving while in flight. An elongated neck stretched across her palm, ending with a tapered head on the back of her hand. Nessa had the basic silhouette of a dragon marked onto her.

  It was fine, delicate even, and might escape notice in the first instance if it were a normal scar. But whatever it was, it had a faint iridescence, a purplish sheen telling all who saw it that it wasn’t right.

  Nessa scowled, feeling distressed, and pushed down her sleeve, hiding as much of the scar as possible. She stood and found that a large portion of her felt bruised, probably from when Shadow had thrown her to the ground. She then caught sight of Aoife, curled up on the other side of Hunter.

  Nessa felt a shift in her feelings towards the dragon, finding that it unnerved her greatly. The way it had acted towards Shadow, as if there was an understanding between man and dragon. It was as if they had spoken to one another. Also, the look in the dragon’s eyes as it had laid its snout on her bleeding palm had been a most unnatural gaze, one filled with ageless knowledge and an intelligence that no animal should have, let alone one that had just hatched. Everything Nessa had thought she had known about the dragon hatchling had been thrown into doubt. Although, thanks to Shadow, she did at least know that the dragon was female. That was something, right?

  Aoife stirred, her head rising out from under a wing, and looked up at Nessa with wide eyes, the pupils contracting into thin slits. Nessa scowled at the little creature, rubbing a hand against her sternum, at the tight feeling that was suddenly there. She turned and went over to her bag, rifling through it until she found something clean to wear. Well, clean-ish. Nessa had yet to wash any of her clothing that had got soaked during the crossing of the river Nyland, and because of this, most of them smelled quite strongly of marsh water.

  Nessa took the opportunity, whilst Hunter was asleep, to quickly change into a pair of relatively marsh-free leggings and a red half dress. Despite the sunlight, there was a slight chill to the air and Nessa rummaged for a cardigan, finding a large one that was a rich brown, and shrugged into it, wrinkling her nose at the odour that came from the right sleeve. It was several sizes too big, and hung from her frame like a large blanket, warm and soft. Nessa rather liked it despite the slight smell, which she hoped would air out soon.

  Hunter startled awake, hand absently patting the ground where Nessa had been. Aoife let out a small hiss as she was disturbed from her nap, scowling up at Hunter as much as a dragon was able to.

  “I’m here,” Nessa called, sensing that she was the cause of his sudden panic.

  His eyes jumped to her and he relaxed with a sigh, slumping back against the wall. “Thank the Devils.” He swiped a hand over his face. “For a second there, I thought you had been kidnapped by another madman.”

  “No kidnapping yet,” Nessa said with a forced smile. “Although the day is still young.”

  Hunter snorted. “Oooh, dark humour, and so early in the morning.”

  “Well, it was one hell of an eventful night.”

  “It most certainly was.”

  They fell into a silence, unsure how to continue. Nessa crouched down and began rolling up her sleeping bag, doing anything she could to keep herself busy, to take her mind off what had happened.

  Hunter stood, yawing, and stretched his arms above his head. He wandered over to his stuff and began packing it away, his eyes every now and again darting in her direction. Nessa ignored it to start with, but it got on her nerves after a while, especially when
he kept going to say something and hesitating, coming up short.

  “What’s on your mind?” Nessa asked.

  Hunter looked at her. “Who says I have anything on my mind?”

  Nessa raised an eyebrow, disbelieving.

  “Okay okay,” he relented. “I just want to know if you’re alright?”

  “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Hunter’s eyes went to her hand, to the mark that was hidden by her sleeve that fell nearly to her fingertips.

  Nessa tensed, knowing that he was asking about more than just that. “It’s fine,” she insisted, embarrassed that she had let herself fall apart in front of him. “I’m fine. I’d rather not talk about it right now.”

  “Of course,” Hunter murmured. “But if you need to talk, to vent, then I’m here for you.”

  “I’m fine,” Nessa said quietly.

  Hunter, thankfully, let the subject drop. “Do you want something to eat or shall we head off?”

  “I’d like to head off, if that’s alright.” Nessa folded her arms, hugging her middle. “It’s hard... It’s hard to be here after...” Her words dwindled off as she found it impossible to convey what she felt.

  Despite her difficulties, Hunter understood. “Then we should get a move on. The storm has passed and the weather looks to be quite fair today.”

  “Excellent.”

  Nessa shouldered her backpack and her sleeping bag, and then picked up the messenger bag. She went, somewhat reluctantly, over to Aoife. The little dragon looked at her with reproach. Nessa felt it more than she saw it, and that unsettled her a bit. In any event, she scooped up the hatchling, ignoring the tightness in her chest and the tingle that ran through the mark. Aoife curled up in the bag without a fight, seeming to fall back into a doze.

  Hunter stood waiting in the cave’s mouth, and Nessa hastened to join him, eager to leave.

  Stepping outside, Nessa discovered that the cave was nestled high in a craggy outcrop of rocks. She paused, breathing in the freshness that always came after rain, as if the very air had been cleansed. Closing her eyes, Nessa tilted her head back, welcoming the feel of the sun on her face. It was like a warm caress, a pleasant thing that brought a measure of quietness to her otherwise chaotic thoughts.