“You know nothing, boy,” Chaos spat. “You are sat in a room with two of them.”
“Two and a half,” Orm muttered. “If you want to be precise.”
Their argument finally sank in, and Nessa snorted. “You think that I’m one of these mysterious Old Bloods?” That was even more ludicrous than thinking that she belonged to one of the Twelve Houses.
“I don’t think,” Chaos growled. “I know.”
“Impossible,” Hunter murmured again, staring at her with wide, wondrous eyes.
Perturbed, Nessa swallowed her growing panic, feeling like it was about to choke her. “I agree with Hunter,” she said. “It’s impossible. I think I would have noticed if I belonged to a race of magic beings. Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I would have noticed if my parents did as well.”
“Not if they weren’t your real parents,” Chaos said quietly.
Nessa was shocked into silence. Then, when it felt as if she could breathe again, she was caught in a bubble of nervous laughter, startling Hunter and Orm. Chaos sat looking rather impassive, waiting for her brief moment of hysteria to end.
“You think I’m...” Nessa raised a hand to her mouth, unable to finish, trying to force back a snicker.
“Adopted,” Chaos bit out. “Yes. I am almost certain that you are adopted.”
Hearing the word out loud was like having a bucket of freezing water tipped over her. Nessa slumped back in her chair, feeling like the very earth had been ripped open, swallowing her whole.
“How can you be so sure?”
“I am a Wraith,” Chaos said as if that explained everything. “I know many things.”
“A Wraith?” Nessa mumbled.
“Impossible,” Hunter said, using his favourite word of the hour.
“Quite possible,” Chaos hissed. “I assure you.”
“But all the Old Bloods have been hunted to―”
“Extinction,” Chaos cut him off. “Yes, I heard you the first time you said that. You’re repeating yourself. Open your ears, boy, and try not to be so stupid. Yes, we have been hunted, near on five hundred years, and yes, we are close to extinction, but we’re not there yet. A few of us are left, clinging to the edge of society, forgotten by most, fading to nothing more than stories told to scare children. I am the last of my kind, but I will be here long after your bones have turned to dust.”
Hunter wisely swallowed any response.
A hand touched Nessa’s arm, and she looked up, finding Orm gazing at her with compassion.
“Are you alright there?” he asked gently.
“Fine,” Nessa said automatically. “I’m fine.”
“She’s lying, just so you know,” Chaos sneered. “She’s just realised that her whole life has been nothing but a lie.”
“Don’t think of it like that, Nessa,” Orm said. “I’m sure your parents had a very good reason for not telling you.”
The thing is, Nessa thought miserably, it’s very hard not to think like that.
She didn’t respond. There were no words that could express what she was feeling.
Orm patted her arm, then settled back in his chair, asking, “Do you have any idea of what kind she might be?”
Chaos shook his head. “I’m not completely sure. She could be several different things.”
“A half-breed like me?” Orm sounded almost hopeful.
“No,” Chaos snorted, “she is most certainly not a mongrel like you. The light I see around her is too strong for that. A pure breed, I am sure. Though what, I do not yet know.”
“You don’t know,” Nessa muttered. “You tell me this... this horrible thing, and you don’t know what I am, only that I’m not human.”
“I know many things,” Chaos answered. “It is rare that something turns up that I cannot figure out immediately.”
“Lucky me then,” Nessa grumbled.
“I am a Wraith,” Chaos said. “I always find the answers to the world’s mysteries, sooner or later.”
“A Wraith,” Hunter snorted. “No, you’re not.”
Chaos snarled. “What would you know about it, boy?”
“I’ve heard the stories.”
“Oh, the stories?” Chaos gave a sinister smile. “And what do those stories say?”
Hunter gulped, beginning to sense the aura of danger that permeated through the air. From the corner of her eye, Nessa saw Orm slump, head in his hand, eyes squeezed shut.
“I did tell him to keep his mouth closed,” Orm moaned. “I swear.”
It seemed that Nessa was the only one who heard him.
“Well,” Hunter continued after a little pause, “I heard that you were a sight to be reckoned with, formidable and unearthly, with wings and eyes that could see into a man’s soul.” He shook his head. “And right now, you’re not meeting my expectations.”
That probably wasn’t the best thing to say.
Nessa closed her eyes in acquiescence as Chaos shot to his feet.
“YOU INSULT ME SO?” he bellowed. “I’VE KILLED PEOPLE FOR LESS!”
Hunter stammered an apology.
There was a heart stopping noise. The sound of crunching bone and popping joints. Nessa’s eyes sprang open, fearing that Hunter was meeting an unfortunate end. He sat cowering in his chair, face bone-white, his gaze fixed with terrified fascination on Chaos.
Nessa stared.
Chaos’ humped back twitched and shifted, moving like there were large snakes under his clothes. Sickening pops and cracks sounded, painfully loud, making Nessa flinch with each and every one of them. Then, erupting from his back, ripping through his tunic and overcoat, were two enormous wings. Scarred and tattered, riddled with holes and with razor sharp talons jutting from the top joint, they were a horrifying sight to behold.
Nessa recoiled in her chair as Chaos straightened.
Gone was the blind, withered old man, replaced by a creature that would best suit a nightmare than real life.
His grey hair was now dark, falling as straight as a pin to his waist, and the wrinkles had vanished, restored to smooth, youthful skin. But the most astonishing transformation, second to the wings, were his eyes, which were now deep set and a pale, piercing blue, almost indistinguishable from the whites. They seemed, as Hunter had mentioned, to possess the ability to stare into a man’s soul. Around them was a thick ring of jagged scars, as if something or someone had tried to claw them out.
“I am a Wraith,” Chaos snarled, his tone ominous. “A knower of life and death. I see many things, Hunter Greyson, and I see that death and grief linger around you. They reside deep in your heart. Do not cross me again, or your mother will have another body to bury.”
Hunter, if it was at all possible, went even paler.
Chaos turned those eerie eyes to Nessa and Orm, who blanched.
“Now,” Chaos growled. “Get out of my tent.”
They couldn’t leave fast enough.
The journey back to Orm’s home was slow and done in silence. Chaos seemed to have rendered Hunter mute, and Orm was absorbed in his own thoughts, his long legged strides taking him far into the lead. Nessa, well, she just wanted to be left alone, so the silence was oddly welcome. Her mind and emotions were in turmoil, and her shoulders were tense. A headache was quickly building behind her eyes and she wanted nothing more than a dark room where she could hide from everyone, and a blanket that she could bundle herself into while she cried her heart out.
Yes, she thought, crying seems like a fine idea.
Adopted.
The very word brought tears to her eyes. Out of all the things that Nessa had thought Chaos might reveal, that was not one of them. It felt as if her entire world had been thrown into doubt. Suddenly being told that your parents weren’t your parents, there was no coming back from that. There was no forgetting.
Adopted.
Surely it can’t be so?
Maybe Chaos was wrong.
But what if he was right?
Though Nessa hated to admi
t it, to even think it, what Chaos had told her rang true in a profound way. Memories besieged her, those of the hushed arguments that had always happened at night between her parents when she was younger. The arguments that, though subtle and indirect, had been about her.
Nessa sniffled and her arms tightened around her messenger bag, holding it and the little dragon inside closer to her chest. Aoife was still, perhaps sensing Nessa’s growing distress and not wanting to add to it.
She recalled that when she was small, particularly during school, she had always felt as if she didn’t quite belong, as if there was a glass wall between her and the rest of the world. She could see people, and they could see her, but there was an invisible barrier between them. Not to say that she had a terrible time of it all. There were a few friends over the years, someone to sit with at lunch and occasionally meet up with during the weekends. But those friendships had never ran deep. Sooner or later they would go their separate ways and that was the end of that. They would never talk or see each other again, and so the cycle would continue, repeating itself, never changing.
It seemed like nothing would ever be the same again.
At the time, Nessa had put it all down to childish insecurity, but now she had to wonder. Was it because she didn’t belong there? Did everyone else sense her different-ness and that’s why no one had ever got particularly close to her?
That idea was fuel for her troubled thoughts.
Orm had his front door open before Nessa got there, and she stepped into the happy mess that served as both the shop and the living room. No semblance of peace came over her, no tranquillity. In fact, the desire to run and hide grew to an overwhelming degree.
Hunter came in behind her, shutting the door after him.
“Well,” he said finally, breaking the silence, “that was a very unpleasant experience.”
“You’re telling me,” Nessa grumbled, shuffling over to the other side of the room.
Hunter watched her go with shadowed eyes. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know you didn’t.” She began ascending the stairs, making them groan.
“Do you want some company?” Hunter called from the bottom. “A shoulder to lean on?”
“I just need... I just need to be alone for a while.”
Hunter sounded like he was going to protest, but then a murmured voice made him pause. Orm. He had a hand on Hunter’s arm, capturing his attention and allowing Nessa to slip into the spare bedroom.
It was almost pitch black in there, the candle burnt down to little more than a puddle of molten wax with a sad little flame clinging to the last of the wick. The bed beckoned and after letting Aoife out of the bag, Nessa laid down and pulled the blanket over her head, as if it could shield her from her problems.
She could hear a conversation downstairs. Hunter’s and Orm’s voices floated up, muffled by the thick stone walls and the curtained doorways. Nessa didn’t let them bother her. It didn’t sound like they were coming upstairs at any rate, judging by the sound of things, which suited her just fine. She was pretty sure they were having a hushed argument. What about, Nessa couldn’t even begin to guess.
Tears leaked from under closed eyelids, and Nessa rolled onto her side, burying her head under her pillow, hoping that it muffled her sobs. She cried until she could cry no longer. Her eyes became puffy and her nose blocked up. Nessa was a mess and felt no better for it.
Her bed jumped as something settled on it. Startled, Nessa pulled down the blanket and peered over her shoulder, finding Aoife standing over her, staring with wide cat-like eyes.
“Hey, little one,” Nessa croaked. “It’s alright. I’ll be fine. I’m just a weepy old thing today, eh?”
Aoife stepped forward, clambering over her side and sat down, tucking herself against Nessa’s stomach and curled into a neat ball.
Nessa sighed unhappily and rested a hand on the little dragon, taking a small amount of comfort from the silent companionship, and closed her aching eyes, finally managing to stem the flow of tears. She sniffled, wishing for a tissue but not having the energy or the inclination to go find one.
Time passed, although Nessa didn’t know how much. Hunter and Orm’s apparent argument wound down and there was a period of quietness. Faintly, she could hear sounds of movement from downstairs, but that was about it.
As it turned out, learning that your entire life had been built on a lie was tiring business, and before Nessa knew it, she was slipping into an unsettled doze.
∞∞∞
Just like the other times it happened, light slowly bloomed until the whole picture came into focus. At first it felt like she was having a dream, then she looked down and saw her translucence, and she realised. She was in one of her waking dreams again.
Nessa swore. “Oh, for the love of God. Why now? Can’t I just have a break? Just one little one? Damn it.”
Nothing. No magical response. No waking up in Orm’s spare bedroom. It seemed that she was there for the foreseeable future. Or until she was sent back to the real world, since she had yet to figure out how to escape on her own.
Nessa looked around, finding herself standing in an old alleyway. A layer of dirt partially covered the cobbled ground, and the buildings crowded in on either side, towering three stories high, blocking out much of the night’s sky. Their wooden shutters were closed and no light shone from around their edges. All was still and deathly quiet. A few tall iron lamp posts sat on one side of the street, casting small rings of soft illumination at intervals. They looked similar to antique Victorian ones.
A sound reached her ears, faint at first but growing steadily stronger. It took Nessa a second to place it, but then she realised that it was the click of hurried footsteps on the cobblestones. She turned around.
In the distance, a small cloaked figure was moving swiftly towards her.
She couldn’t tell much about them, but as they neared, Nessa knew that they were female, even though a hood was pulled low over their face. In their arms, half hidden beneath the edges of their cloak, was a small bundle. Judging by the way it was carried, Nessa guessed that whatever it was, was precious and fragile.
The woman strode past Nessa without seeing her, and continued down the street. After a moment of deliberation, Nessa followed, feeling that maybe some universal force was showing her this for a reason. It was a long shot, but something useful might come out of these strange things. Maybe.
The woman turned a corner, quickly glancing behind her as she did so, and vanished from sight. Nessa looked, but saw no one there. Was the woman being followed? Her bearing certainly suggested that she thought so.
Nessa hastened around the corner, not wanting to lose sight of the woman, who was already a surprising distance away, moving at a pace that was almost a jog. Nessa chased after the woman as she went around another bend, and when she caught up with her, Nessa found herself in a small courtyard. A sense of déjà vu came over her.
There was little illumination, nothing save the full moon that hung low overhead.
The courtyard was perfectly round and surrounded by tall walls. In the centre was a pond-like feature that sank deep into the ground, with a narrow staircase that hugged the side and curled into the impenetrable darkness. The woman hesitated at the top of the stairs, and then descended down them, holding the little bundle tighter to her chest.
Nessa stepped forward, coming to a stop just as the woman had. She peered into the darkness below, barely able to discern the clocked figure, and swallowed her nerves. With slow, cautious steps, Nessa followed the woman, careful as to where she put her feet.
The déjà vu grew stronger once Nessa reached the bottom, for there, set in the opposite wall, was a mirror that gently flickered with light.
Nessa stared in disbelief.
“Not possible,” she whispered.
The town and the courtyard were different, meaning it wasn’t the one that she had come through, but the mirror itself was identical except for the
lights that chased their way over its surface. These were a stark white, whereas the ones from before had been green, matching Margan’s eyes.
Hope flared in Nessa’s heart. There was another portal, one hidden away somewhere. She could find it, use it perhaps, and stand a chance of going home and discovering the truth about herself.
The lights were sporadic and not particularly bright. Little of the underground room was visible to Nessa, and it took her eyes a few minutes to adjust to the gloom. The woman stared at the mirror with the same kind of enrapture as Nessa did, although maybe with a touch of fear, judging by the way she stood.
A noise came from behind them, startling them both. The woman let out a little shriek as she turned, spotting a hunched figure shuffling out from under the stairs. Nessa frowned, mouth parting in confusion when she realised that it was Chaos. He was in his blind old man guise, his walking stick gently tapping against the flagstone floor. What’s he doing here?
“Fear not, Melissa,” he said. “It is only I.”
Melissa visibly relaxed. “You gave me a fright.”
“So I saw.” The amusement quickly faded from his voice. “Have you been followed? Do they know?”
“They know,” Melissa murmured, gazing down at the bundle in her arms. “They are close. We do not have much time.”
Chaos moved over to Melissa, his gaze following hers. “Is this the one?”
Melissa nodded.
“Where is the mother?”
Melissa shook her head. “They knew. They were waiting for us. She...She didn’t make it.”
Chaos sighed, his shoulders sagging. “This is a terrible loss.”
“I promised her that I would care for the child, that I will raise it as my own.”
Curious, Nessa crossed over to them, peering over their shoulders.
Wrapped tightly in thick blankets, nothing visible but one tiny fist and the face, eyes closed tight in sleep, was a baby.
Though Nessa didn’t have much experience with babies, she could easily tell that it couldn’t be much older than a few hours. Nessa understood Melissa’s meaning that the mother was no longer alive.
House of Fear and Freedom (The Wyrd Sequence Book 1) Page 30
