“It was shortly after the third celebration of his sister’s birth when Lord and Lady Darke and their little daughter Rebecca were all found dead, outside on the ground below the highest window of the castle’s tallest tower.”
She ran her long finger up the side of the candle. Up towards the flame.
“Only Oracle, who had been found sleeping on the floor of the highest room in the castle’s tallest tower had survived, and the boy could produce no reasonable explanation for why that was.”
The flame jumped and deliberately flicked at her. It licked the tip of her finger. It burned her. She pulled her finger back and put it to her lips. She glared at the flame as she nursed her injured digit.
“It was first believed that some unknown enemy of the Darke family must have stolen into the castle, murdered them and left before they could be caught. No one ever thought to suspect Oracle, agreeing that there must have been an intruder and that the young orphan was still in danger from the unknown assassin.
“Servants were told to never leave the boy unattended. Chefs were asked to carefully observe the preparation of all of his meals. Castle groundskeepers were instructed to remain on the watch.
“As time passed, the citizens of the Village Darke, began to whisper and question and doubt. There was silence from the castle. There were no laws or decrees. There were no inspiring words. The people began to worry about how they would fare and whether young Oracle would be able to take up the mantle of ruling the Village Darke, completely heartbroken.
“As time continued to pass the people began to openly doubt his innocence, coming to believe that the young boy must have had something to do with the sordid events surrounding the fateful moment when the Darke family was all but eliminated.
“The groundskeepers searched and watched, but never found anyone. The chefs, growing tired of constant inspections, took less and less care with his meals. The servants, whose earlier suspicions had grown to paranoia then fear, abandoned the thirteen year old to fend for himself around the castle. In truth, Oracle was heartbroken and consumed with bitterness and regret, but he was not alone.
“Moments before the death of his family, Oracle was roused from his sleep by a shadowy figure at the foot of his bed. Although he had never actually seen him before, he knew who the intruder was. The murderous villain that everyone was sure existed had never left his side since that time, and Oracle knew that he would never be rid of him.”
Alma leaned in closer to Mathias again. This time he leaned in closer to her. Her eyes were wild, and in the depth of violet, he thought he could see a small angry boy going about his business.
“Deciding that his despicable once-imaginary creation was better company than none at all, he named him Fetcher, and made him his slave, punishment for having taken his family from him and leaving him alone.
“Because he felt that it was his own thoughts that were responsible for creating the thing that had killed his family, one of his first official decrees was to outlaw all imagination and creativity. He forbid the townspeople to produce any music or art that might inspire any kind of fanciful thoughts.”
Alma closed her eyes and Mathias lost his view. She leaned back against the wall, opened her eyes and glanced out her window. Alma was staring up at the night sky again.
“Then Oracle turned what once was Darke Tower Castle into a very special school to silence the imaginings of children. The villagers called it the Academy Darke.
“As soon as children reached a certain age, Oracle would send the Fetcher to grab them up and bring them to the academy. There they would be confined until every last spark of imagination had been drained from them through harsh and drastic measures.
“There they would remain until those who succumbed were allowed to grow up and were returned to the village as very frightened and compliant adults. Those who did not, remain there. Trapped. Never allowed to return to the village while their loved ones wait for them.
“Because of all they have endured, the citizens of the Village Darke never want to upset the norm. They do what they are told. They suppress any free or wandering thoughts, and they never question.”
Alma turned to face Mathias and before he had time to react, she grabbed her cane from the wall behind her, swung it over the table and put the tip to his throat.
“Change is not welcomed here and strangers are not only unwelcomed, they are unheard of.”
She applied additional pressure with her weapon of choice until Mathias winced.
“But you are no stranger. I know who you are. I know why you are here.”
Mathias sat silently expecting answers and awaiting his fate.
“Do you have a token of appreciation?” she asked.
“I have nothing,” he replied.
After a moment, Alma shrugged. She lowered her cane, grasped the purple knob at the top and turned it. The knob came away from the cane and attached to it was a key. She showed her secret to Mathias.
“Some are just not meant to be imprisoned,” she said with a quick look to the door behind the bar.
Alma stood up without the assistance of her cane and began moving to the door. She was not as frail as she had made herself out to be.
“What do I do?” Mathias asked as he rose from his seat. “How do I rescue the boy?”
Alma put the key in the lock and turned it. Mathias made his way to the door and put his hand against it before she could exit.
“Please, I’ve lost a child,” he said softly. “Is that why I’m here? Am I here to save him?”
Alma pulled the door open. Mathias grabbed her by the arm. She turned instantly and glared at him.
“I don’t understand why you won’t help me,” he pleaded as he released her arm and matched her gaze. “I don’t understand why you won’t help yourselves. Why haven’t you done anything?”
Alma turned away from him, and with the help of her cane, she stepped out the door and began travelling up the road. Mathias followed her out and watched her go.
“What’s wrong with you people?” he yelled after her. “This is a nightmare. Your children are taken from you and you let it happen. Are you all cowards? Are you all corrupt?”
Alma heard none of this or she was just ignoring Mathias. Either way, she continued up the road towards her next destination. Her storytelling here was done.
“Now go stranger. Leave us alone,” the innkeeper said simply as he stood in the doorway of the inn. “Go away and leave things as they are. It’s useless to try, but if you want to find the boy, follow the carriage. It races towards the Academy Darke. That’s where you’ll find what’s left of him.”
There was no help for Mathias in the Village Darke. He knew that now. The mysterious woman was mad and the innkeeper was apathetic. But he also knew that Mouse was trapped in the Academy Darke. Mathias wanted to believe there was still hope, but this place was draining what little he had left.
The Academy Darke was his destination, and as he began walking down the road towards the blockade, he heard the door of the Inn Between close behind him.
9.
Into the Blockade
The road got darker as Mathias traveled away from the inn. What little light had been provided by it had been lost when the innkeeper extinguished the lanterns. The night still hung heavy as he reached the blockade.
There would be no easy passage through this tight weave of dead foliage, overgrown roots, vines and thickets. While Mathias couldn’t bear the thought of Mouse having to spend the night in the Academy Darke, he knew he wouldn’t be able to make his way through this tangled web until morning.
He was about to bed down for some rest, when he saw a light travelling on the road towards him. The glare of the light prevented Mathias from getting a clear view of what was coming his way. He put his hand up to the light to reduce the glare and steeled himself for his next encounter.
The light was moving fast and it was upon him before he knew it. When his eyes adjusted to the sudden b
rightness in all that darkness, he found himself standing face to face with the innkeeper. The man was wearing a long, heavy, dark green coat. He had a length of rope draped across his chest and along with his lantern, he carried a bundle.
“You don’t know any better do you, stranger?”
Mathias was so shocked by the innkeeper’s arrival that he didn’t know what to say.
“Well, I do know better,” he continued as he threw Mathias the bundle. “This should fit you.”
The heavy bundle came undone as it hit Mathias in the chest. He grabbed at the unraveling coat and quickly put it on. It was thick, warm and comfortable. It was exactly like the innkeeper’s.
“It will protect you from sharp thorns and branches,” the man said as he looked at the forest around them. “Once when things mattered, there were a thousand groundskeepers that tended to this land. The family Darke took good care of us and we took good care of the land. You will never find your way through the overgrowth. I will lead you through it, but I have rules.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for daylight?” Mathias interrupted. “Once the morning star rises, it’ll be much easier to see, much easier to manage our way through this blockade.”
The innkeeper came at him quickly. He grabbed Mathias by his jaw and brought his face close until they were eye to eye. He raised the lantern and stared at him for what seemed like an eternity.
“Let me be clear,” he whispered. “There is no morning star. There is no daylight. Those things are just fantasies.”
Mathias was stunned. He realized, as he watched the flame from the lantern dancing on the worn and haggard face of his new found guide through this nightmare, that he was trapped in a world that had no natural light of any kind. The Village Darke was in every respect dark.
“The story my wife told you is a good story, but it is missing some truths,” he said quietly. “I was the man’s closest and sometimes only friend. Alma was nanny to the children and confidant to the wife. The story is based in reality, but the reality itself was and is much worse. Lord Darke had foolish thoughts like yours, and they cost him and us everything.”
The innkeeper let go of Mathias and put the lantern down on the road. He pulled the length of rope over his head and dropped it to the road as well. He kept one end of the rope in his hand. He pulled it around Mathias’ waist.
“My wife told those children their bedtime stories,” he said as he tied a tight knot. “Now she tells Oracle the stories he wants to hear. Stories that justify his actions.”
“So now he pays for his stories?” Mathias asked.
“No,” the innkeeper said curtly. “For the villagers, Alma has stories that have their children up there safe and happy until they’re returned. He pays for those lies.”
The innkeeper pulled the other end of the rope around his own waist and tied another tight knot. The men were now bound together with only a few feet of rope between them.
“Stay close. Keep the rope between us taut. Do not wander, even for inches. It is not safe.”
Mathias didn’t understand why this was necessary. The blockade was so thick, he wasn’t sure how they would even get through it let alone get separated in it.
“Do not listen to anything you might hear. It will be difficult to do, but you will go mad if you do not.”
Mathias understood this rule completely.
“It is a long way to the cliffs. We will stop for nothing until we get there,” he continued to order. “We cannot have light while we travel. It is not wise.”
With that he reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a pair of round wire framed glasses and put them on. The green lenses hid his eyes, but Mathias knew he was staring at him again. He reached into his own pocket and found a pair there waiting for him.
“These lenses will help you see. They were invented by Elias Darke to help us explore our world. Now we’ll use them to survive in it. Put them on.”
Mathias watched as the innkeeper shifted his weight from his bad leg to his good leg. He winced in pain as he did.
“How did you injure your leg?” Mathias asked.
“I earned it battling the Fetcher, while trying to save a little girl in the woods. She was the first child to be taken, but certainly not the last.”
“Was she a little blonde girl?”
The innkeeper glared at Mathias suspiciously.
“I felt her presence as I stumbled my way through the woods.” Mathias revealed. “I wanted to save her too.”
The innkeeper nodded and smiled for the first time.
“She had quite a little mind. A little player of parts she was, a princess, an enchantress, even a king. She was full of make believe. But we lost her.”
“What was her name?”
The man’s face went blank and a sadness came upon him.
“I don’t remember,” he admitted hesitantly. “You asked how we could do nothing. What is there to do when your children and babies are taken, hidden in a place you can see but dare not go to? Sadder still is even if you could, the parents of those children and babies will not do a thing out of fear. Fear that they themselves created.”
The innkeeper reached down, picked up the lantern and was about to blow out the flame, but then he stopped.
“My name is Ulysses. I chose this name for myself from a character in a story Alma told me when we were children. I do not know who you are, or where you come from stranger. I do not need to know anything about you. You probably will not live to see the end of the journey you have chosen, and I cannot waste what little space I have left in my free mind with useless information.”
He blew out the flame in the lantern, and the darkness came down upon them.
“Since they were all taken, no others have been born. We do not age. We do not die. We just exist. Truth be told, we were all lost before the child went mad,” he said as he walked passed Mathias towards the blockade. “This nightmare is not yours. It is ours.”
There is a moment that occurs when people first meet. A moment when observations and conclusions are made. Mathias’ first moment with the villagers was frightening and cold. And yet he remembered the woman crying at the inn. He remembered her red, clouded eyes.
The people of the Village Darke were in pain, and Mathias was beginning to truly understand their sadness.
Mathias’ first moment with Ulysses included a knife and a threat. Now the man with the self given name was doing everything he could to help him. Mathias was grateful, but not entirely sure he should trust him. And yet he did.
Mathias put his glasses on.
The lenses were very effective. Everything was bathed in a green hue, but everything was quite visible. He looked up towards the castle. The entire structure was giving off a faint light. What little ambient light there was in this world was being provided by the castle itself.
The lenses were borrowing illumination from the stronghold in which Mouse was being held, in order to light the way to him.
Mathias felt a tug at the rope around his waist. Ulysses was stepping closer to the blockade. It was the same twine of folly as before, but this time, because of the lenses, he could see movement. The blockade was slowly moving, gently breathing, and ever growing.
Ulysses raised his arms and put his hands on the natural wall. Over his shoulder, he gave Mathias a wink, smiled a crooked smile, and turned his attention back to his task.
He placed his hands on one of the wide vines and for a moment nothing happened. Then gently, he began to move it. And it moved with his touch. He moved several other pieces in this maze in this manner. Each one responded willingly to the movement. The plant life remembered and respected him.
In that first moment when people meet, observations and conclusions are made. Mathias was learning very quickly that the observations and conclusions he made about the people of the Village Darke were wrong.
Ulysses had created an opening large enough for both men to step into. Mathias felt another tug at the rope tied around
his waist. This time he followed without question.
10.
The Castle in the Sky
The Castle in the Sky has a long history and many names. It has a past, a present and a future all at once. Designed by one man, drafted by a dozen, and executed by thousands, at its birth it was an idea so radical that some thought it would topple over on top of them.
Applying all their craftsmanship and the inventive designs of Elias Darke, the villagers labored to build what they first called the Castle on the Rock. They put their hopes and dreams into their work and imbued their construction with a special energy all its own. The castle compound consisted of three distinctively separate sections that all worked together to make a whole.
The Exchange was built for commerce and equity. It was the working machinery of their world. Trading and lending houses were put side by side with guilds and societies, and merchant and business concerns. It managed the goods of the people. It fueled the practical side of their hopes and dreams.
The Institute was a place of learning. Great minds would gather with young and old alike to teach in classrooms and lecture halls. Important debates and discussions were held there, volumes of knowledge and learning were stored there, all with the belief that an educated people would be a strong people. This was of cardinal importance to securing the well being of future generations.
The Towers housed the family, their staff, and those who cared for the castle and its grounds. The seven gabled mansion and its three towers were a glorious legacy from the ones who built it to the ones they chose to lead them. It was to be a safe haven from the pressures of ruling. It was meant to be their home.
The castle complete, the villagers gave their accomplishment its second name. They named it Darke Tower Castle after the man that inspired its creation, and because the villagers knew of Elias’s unbounded love of the void up above, they named the endless emptiness around their world the Darke Sky.
It Is Said (Mathias Bootmaker and the Keepers of the Sandbox) Page 8