Dark Matter

by Christie Rich

  “Rayla.”

  She gazed at me long and hard. “That is not your real name.”

  I scowled. “Why do people keep saying that? It’s the one my mother gave me!” I hadn’t meant for it to come out as angry as it had.

  “No matter, Rayla, you will learn your true name in time. Your mother was a smart woman.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  A broad smile slid across her lips. “Look it up.”

  “My name?”

  She nodded. I shook my head. Like I had time for that.

  Lily paced the room but didn’t touch anything. “Why are you in the borderlands?”

  “How do you know where we are?”

  “There is only one place that feels like this.” Her eyes shifted with mischief. “Are you going to answer me or should we play a guessing game?”

  I’d had enough of guessing. “I’m hiding.”

  She raised a brow, giving me a dubious look. “Don’t you know what lives here?”

  “I’ve seen the hellhounds.”

  She shook her head. “You should not linger. The creatures are restless and hellhounds aren’t the worst thing lurking in the shadows of this forest.”

  “So I’ve heard. Are you really here?” I asked abruptly. This chitchat was nice, but it wasn’t going to help me. Now that I knew how bad off Zach was, I needed to get to him. Who knew what they had done to poor Luke.

  She laughed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  I reached a hand toward her, but she shied away. “Do not touch me.”

  “How are you here? I’ve seen you before, but you were—”

  “You mustn’t tell me of my future.” She gritted her teeth. “I thought I had considered every contingency.” She smiled wryly. “It appears I hadn’t considered you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I had no idea I could actually be called into the future. You see, I have been learning magic from an elf, and I asked him to show me how to bewitch the diary you are holding. I thought it would be fun to be able to interact with someone from another time, but I never thought I would be transported physically.” Her eyes shone with curiosity. “When are we anyway?” She shook her head. “Scratch that. I don’t want to know.”

  I gaped at her. I didn’t understand what was happening, but she had to know something that could help me. “So how are you here?”

  “I don’t know how to explain it very well. Science has never made a bit of sense to me, but I think I am, what did he call that? Oh, yeah, drifting. It’s similar to that, but not on a physical plane. Part of me is here and part of me is back home in bed dreaming right now and you…” She looked at me and shrugged. “To put it simply, you called me here.”

  How did I do that? I just touched the book. She was the one that put the spell on it. “Are you sure?”

  “It is the only explanation.”

  “Either that or Gibbit drugged me and I am actually hallucinating right now.”

  She smiled. “You know Gibbit? He can be very useful.”

  I thought so, especially considering what he had just gotten me out of, but I wanted to hear her take. “How’s that?”

  “He’s the most resourceful troll in all of Faeresia. He can get you anything. I shouldn’t really talk about the other things he can do.”

  I didn’t care what she had to say about Gibbit. I would make my own mind up regarding his abilities and his motivations. “Lily, I don’t want to seem rude, but I am new to this Elemental business. Can I ask you some things?”

  She sat on, or more like hovered over, the chair in the corner. “Why not?” she said with a grin. “I haven’t been able to speak to someone from the human realm in a really long time, and I miss that. Everything here is sort of boring, except for maybe the pixies. They are…unpredictable.”

  I got to the point. “Have you heard the prophecy?”

  She licked her lips and gave me a conspiratorial smile. “Only part. They are very secretive about it, you see.”

  I sat up straighter. Part was better than nothing. “Will you tell me?”

  She sat there for a long time. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything so I kept quiet.

  “I really shouldn’t…it isn’t supposed to be repeated.” She winked at me. “I know how it feels to be curious and have no one help you scratch that itch.” She rested the tip of her forefinger to her chin, tapped a few times then smiled brightly. “Okay, I think I’ve got it—what I remember anyway. This is somewhere in the middle. I can’t quite recall the beginning.” Her voice lowered dramatically. “Unknown to all she waits in silent grief. Stronger than death, her soul cries out for unrequited reprieve. Only through fault will she be discovered. There was something about a deception gone awry. I can’t remember exactly, but this I do recall because it is my favorite line. Love illuminates the path to her heart. None can claim her until she bestows the precious gift. You see there are many interpretations of what this means, but I think she gets to choose.” Her voice went dreamy. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful? To be able to pick who you want instead of the other way around.”

  “Yeah, sounds great.”

  “There is one more line before the end. Why can’t I remember it?” She pursed her lips and shrugged.

  I gave her a wan smile. “It’s better than not knowing any of it. No one will tell me anything.”

  She fiddled with a knob on the dresser as if she was getting bored. “Give it some time. When they figure out you aren’t the nexus they’ll tell you. I had to wait a hundred years even though it was plainly obvious I couldn’t control all elements.”

  I tried to cover my surprise of how open she was being about this, but I couldn’t be sure how well I did. Lysanne had made it clear the prophecy was as sacred to the fae as the bible is to a priest. “Why wouldn’t they want the nexus to know what the prophecy says?”

  She gave a delicate shrug. “Well, from what I understand, there are many reasons. For one thing, she could be swayed to make a choice that would have disastrous consequences for everyone. You see it’s all in the last line of the prophecy: She is the bringer or taker of life. Only her choices can mold the future.” She dropped her hand from the dresser and sighed. “I’m sorry that’s all I remember. I wish I could tell you more. You must understand something, though. Be careful who you share this with. The prophecy condemns whoever tells the nexus to a horrible existence.” She got a weird look on her face. She studied me for a really long time, and I shifted uncomfortably. “Wait a moment. You never told me what house you are from. I can usually tell, but I’ve never tried like this.”

  “I’m not really sure I have an exact house.”

  Her eyes flew wide and a sick expression covered her face. “You aren’t her, are you?”

  I shrugged. “Heck if I know.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lily gasped. “You tricked me. This can’t count. I’m not really here.” She started to fade.

  “Wait! I need to ask you more.”

  She shook her head, scowling at me then vanished.

  I sat on the bed and gazed out the window. Taker of life, indeed, no wonder people wouldn’t tell me anything. Maybe I could at least find out who made the prophecy. I was pretty sure it was Tabitha, but I couldn’t be certain.

  I wanted to write down what she had said, but it wasn’t as if I would ever forget the lines. How could I?

  I found Gibbit in the kitchen. He was making something that smelled divine. He ladled the concoction into a bowl before handing it to me. I gave him an affectionate nod and sat at the table. He waddled over with his own supper. The chairs were absolutely too tall for him, but I didn’t think he would like it if I tried to help him, so I sat there and let him lumber up into one.

  I smiled at him then focused on stuffing my face. The soup was delicious. It filled me up pretty fast, but I decided to finish what he had given me anyway. I had no idea how long we were going to be here or where my next fae meal was going to come from.
r />   He kept a steady gaze on my face. I tried to ignore it, but I flinched. The only thing I could think to do was cover it up with a cough. I was pretty sure he was on to me. I literally felt the weight of the world on my shoulders and wouldn’t be surprised at all to find out that it showed on my face. I was starting to wish that Lily hadn’t told me anything.

  “Okay, what’s wrong, miss. You ain’t said one word to me besides thanks, and I’d a thought you’d be brimming with questions about now.”

  I shook my head and heaped another spoonful of soup into my mouth. He reached a hand across the table, touching my forearm. “Can’t be that bad.”

  I stared into his strange beady eyes. The orange changed with the light. Right now they were bright as a poppy. “I think it might actually be worse than what I thought.”

  He got a funny look on his face. “What happened?”

  That was all it took for me to blurt out, “Lily said I could destroy the world.” Well, she hadn’t said that exactly, but it’s how she’d acted.

  He jumped out of his seat faster than I thought possible. “Who’s this Lily? Where is she?”

  I waved a hand. “Relax. She’s gone.”

  His face sunk inward and his eyes bulged. I wished he wouldn’t do that. It was a really strange effect that was freaky.

  “Relax, you says. Someone was just in my house and you tells me to relax?” He glared at me. “Where is she?”

  I reached for his arm, but he pulled away. “Not here. Sit down and I’ll explain.”

  He eyed me warily but did as I told him. I wasn’t sure it was wise for me to tell him everything, so I gave him most of it.

  “I never heard of someone doing that before. How’d she manage it?”

  I shrugged. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be here.” As I saw it, being able to go somewhere without having to worry about being caught sounded great about now.

  His mouth turned in a frown, his eyes locked on me. “Oh, yeah, what’s so much more important for you to be doing?”

  “Zach needs my—”

  “No he don’t.”

  “Doesn’t.”

  “What?”

  “The proper phrase is: no he doesn’t.”

  He rested his hand under his chin with his pinky held out in what was supposed to be a dainty gesture. On him, it was more than a little comical. I giggled then he stuck his tongue out at me. “I talk how I want, not how you or anyone else tells me to.”

  His eyes were shifting around so fast that I was surprised he hadn’t fallen from dizziness. He finally looked at me and that was when I realized. “It’s an act.” I laughed out a scoff. “You want people to underestimate you.”

  He started grumbling incoherent words before he said, “You don’t know nothing about me.”

  I folded my arms. “Whatever.”

  He shook his head and pointed to my bowl. “Are you done with that?”

  “Let me,” I said and took his dish with me to the sink.

  His beady eyes flew wide, well as wide as they could, and he gave me a small smile. “Thanks,” he said.

  I glanced at him and nodded. He seemed genuinely surprised that I would clean his dish. I finished up and looked in the cupboards to find a container for the soup. The only things in them were a few bowls, plates and cups. I gave up after I realized he didn’t even have a refrigerator. “What should we do with this?”

  “The pups will like it.” He gave me a razor sharp grin. “You want to feed them?”

  He was calling hellhounds pups? “You’ve got to be joking.”

  “They ain’t as bad as you’re thinking. Come on and see for yourself.”

  I followed him out the back door. The lawn was empty now, but I could feel the overwhelming presence of eyes watching me. I heard a few howls and then a low growl. With ginger steps, I backed up to the door and fingered the knob.

  Gibbit turned around. “Get out here, chicken. They won’t hurt you.”

  “I like the view from here, thank you very much.”

  He shook his head and whistled. They came out of the shadows on tentative paws, seeming almost as afraid of me as I was of them. Their yellow pupils still freaked me out, but I tried to keep an open mind. Maybe they were friendly.

  Gibbit took the kettle to the middle of the lawn and set it down, scurrying away. The pack pounced on the food, fighting each other for access. I watched the frenzy in fascination. It wasn’t always the biggest one that got the goods. The little things had a way of inching in just close enough that when a couple of the bigger ones fought, they claimed a share.

  Movement at the edge of the forest caught my attention. Half the size of even the smallest of the others, it was the only hellhound I had ever seen that I would dare to call a pup. His foot was bleeding, his eyes strained. He avoided the rest of the group and ambled up to Gibbit.

  “What’d you go and do now?” he asked in soothing tones.

  The hound was more the size of a cat than a dog, especially the few we had at home. They ate a lot of mice. I couldn’t tell if it was a newborn or what. “Is he a puppy?”

  “Naw. He just didn’t get much when they were handing out size. Get’s picked on something fierce too.”

  I sat on my haunches and held a fist out for the creature to smell. He gave me a sniff then slid his gooey tongue along my knuckle before he laid down in a heap at my feet. His blood was as black as his coat. It oozed onto the planks of the porch, plopping onto the ground below in a slow drip. I touched his head between the ears and Gibbit smiled at me.

  His tone held anger behind it, but I knew it wasn’t for me. “Most find us, creatures, disgusting.’ He turned toward me and smiled. “Not so with you, I think.”

  I was uncomfortable, so I didn’t say anything. I shifted slightly and picked up the hound, trying my best to avoid his spiky tail. The thing was practically bones beneath fur. He almost smelled worse than Gibbit. I ignored that and rose to my feet, carrying him into the house. I took him to my room and lowered him onto my bed.

  Gibbit stood at the doorway just watching me. His face held an absurd expression of shock. I disregarded it and ordered him to get some towels, soap and water. It took him long enough. Somehow I had expected him to make what I needed materialize in front of me. I waited impatiently for him to come back, soothing the hound as best I could. When he finally walked through the door, he carried a small bowl and a few rags that I wasn’t really sure were sanitary, but what other option did I have?

  I wet the cloth, but the little thing wouldn’t let me get anywhere near his paw. He growled at me a couple of times, but I just kept petting him, hoping he would trust me at some point.

  I brought the bowl of water under the hound’s nose. He sniffed then struggled to get up. I let him drink a little before I tried again. This time he let me stroke his belly. I spoke to him in soft tones, telling him I was going to help him. His bright pupils fixed on my eyes, and I swallowed. Even at this size I was sure he could hurt me. I brought the towel to his paw without taking my gaze from his. I swiped at the fur again and again. He didn’t move. When I was sure he wasn’t going to bite me I picked his paw up gingerly. He had a large gash in between his toes. I cleaned it up as best I could, all the while wondering how I was going to really help him. “Do you have any antibiotic cream?” I asked.

  Gibbit looked at me as if I were crazy, shaking his head. I ran my finger over the top of the hound’s paw. “Does he have a name?”

  He laughed ironically. “Why would I be naming an animal? Names only get you into trouble anyway.”

  I nodded, feeling absolutely useless. I stroked the dog’s head and hummed a song Aunt Grace used to sing to me when I was little. I didn’t remember the words, but the tune had always comforted me. The animal fell asleep within a few minutes.

  “What can we do for him?” I asked.

  Gibbit just shrugged again. That wasn’t good enough for me. I had to be able to do something. I could go to the dorms to see what I could pilf
er, but I couldn’t risk that much for a dog. There had to be people after me now, and as ashamed as I felt, I didn’t want to run into Heath ever again.

  I laid down by the thing and drifted in and out of sleep with my hand covering his paw. At least it wasn’t bleeding now.

  I woke to something wet lapping at my face. I tried to push it away, not opening my eyes. An excited bark filled the space. I groaned, curling protectively around my middle when something huge hit into my stomach.

  I sat upright and gasped. The little dog was gone and a giant had claimed his place. He panted happily then licked the side of my face again. I tried not to cringe. I didn’t want to upset the beast. Was this supposed to be a joke? “Very funny, Gibbit. What did you do with the other one?”

  The thing standing in front of me was similar to the tiny pup that had been curled beside me, but it couldn’t be the same animal. Could it? I stared at it some more. It had the same bark only louder, the same eyes, the same little white spot behind its left ear.

  I shook my head in absolute shock. Gibbit came bounding into the room and jumped sideways.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “No clue,” I replied.

  The hound had to be the biggest I had ever seen. I stood up. His head was level with mine. I could have ridden him if he would let me, as if I would ever want to. I lowered to the floor and tried to lift his paw. I couldn’t budge it. I looked over at Gibbit. “A little help would be nice.”

  “What do you need help with? Anyone looking at that creature can see he’s fine. I don’t know what you did to him, but I could use some of it.”

  I stood up, tempted to ignore his comment. “That’s the point. I didn’t do anything to him.”

  “I think you did.”

  I glared down at the troll. “Is that so?”

  “Don’t matter now. Deed’s done.” He walked up to the beast and patted its knee. He couldn’t reach any higher. “Come,” he called, but the animal stayed where it was.

  Gibbit gave me an angry expression. I pointed at him and said, “Go with Gibbit.” The dog just looked at me with its tongue hanging out. A slow string of saliva crept toward the floor. I got up and went down the hall with it on my heels. When I stopped, it stopped. Uh-oh.