Into the Dark (Light Chaser Book 2)

by J B Cantwell

  I looked up from the book, frowning.

  "Put yours down first," I said. "Then we trade."

  He put both knives on the floor, but I was not willing to give him both of mine. I held one out, lit it with flame, and he took it. Almost immediately, the flame was extinguished, and as the light flickered out, so did the light of hope on his face.

  This man, this ugly, flawed, crippled man, had wished nothing more than to have his magic restored to him. And my knives did no such thing.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "Here, give it back."

  He did without question. Of course, his staff must have been very powerful to allow him to continue to use it, and thankfully he had not attacked me with it. But the fire from it was weak, and he’d clearly dreamed that he would once again find his power through my weapons.

  Just as I hoped to find my power through his weapons.

  "Enough," he said. "It doesn't matter."

  He stood up and moved away, leaving his two knives behind.

  "Take them," he said. "I have no need for them any longer."

  "How will you protect yourself if you have no weapons of your own?"

  He laughed quietly under his breath.

  "I am never safe. I am never protected. I only wait, and that is the biggest gift I can give to our world. My brothers lack patience. They search the world for each new threat, each new man or woman who has the power to do away with my father. But none of them have found this book, and that means that none of them will find you, either.”

  I looked down at the book again. It was unremarkable, small enough to fit into my pocket, and yet it was full of so much malice. Perhaps at another time it would’ve been a great tool. But now, with only my name within, it would no longer serve anyone, friend or foe. Not as long as I was still alive.

  “Come now,” Bevyn said, holding out his hands to me. “We have work we must attend to. It will be difficult. We must do it under cover of darkness, and while that might seem easy, our need for stealth will make it harder than it would be if we were in plain view. We must stay within this cavern, or another like it, if we want to stay hidden."

  I almost asked him why. Why must we stay hidden if I was so important that I could take down his father's army? If I was so powerful, why should I need to hide?

  But I didn't ask these things. I would say nothing until after he showed me how to make the bread.

  Chapter 5

  I was standing in the valley looking around in the dark. I saw nothing but the sheer rock faces on either side. I was alone, and a cold wind blew, biting my skin. I knew this wind was unnatural, and I shuddered, waiting for the pain of a thousand razors that would surely come.

  But all that came was a deathly cold. I felt grateful for my cloak, though it had tripped me up during my climbs in this place. Soon, though, I was wrapping it around me as tightly as I could, for the wind was the coldest I’d ever felt, and I was sure that before long, I would have ice growing on my skin.

  I turned around and around, looking for Bevyn, looking for anyone to help defend me, but nobody came. Seeing nothing, I began to walk away from the center of the valley. I would go to the hiding places among the rocks where Bevyn had taken me. Then I noticed my pack was no longer on my back.

  Where had it gone?

  It didn't matter, I knew, for there was another reason for me to be in this valley. I looked down, and the only thing I saw were my two knives, one for each hand. It was dangerous, I knew, but I’d unsheathed them and lit them anyway. My ability to see in the darkness seemed to have left me in those moments, and the fire that flickered around the edges of the steel comforted me.

  I was utterly alone, but I had two weapons, and that was something.

  I wanted to run, but I wasn't sure which direction to head in. The wind swirled around me, making it impossible to determine where Phalen was, for I was sure now that this was his doing. So I did something unusual, a reaction that surprised me.

  I stood my ground.

  I had seen Torin's Wicks. I knew the monsters that waited for me here in this dark place. But despite what I was sure was a thousand years that Phalen had spent training, I held tightly onto my knives and waited to fight.

  It didn't take long for him to arrive. His cloak, I saw now, was a silvery gray, covering his head and face. I wondered if under that hood his face was any different from the Wicks'. Would this son of Torin suffer a similar fate as his father's slaves?

  My heart pounded as he approached. With every step he took, he seemed to become taller and taller until, when he was just a moment away, he shrank down again into human form.

  I was having trouble breathing. I held out my knives to defend myself. I aimed for his heart, but he only smiled, and I saw that his face was not that of a monster but of a beautiful young man.

  How could this be when his brother was so damaged? So aged?

  He smiled, and even in the darkness, I could see the whiteness of his teeth. His blonde hair touched his shoulders, and on his head, he wore a crown beneath his hood.

  As he neared me, he opens his arms wide as if to embrace me. But, seeing my fear, he stopped walking. He lowered his arms and looked at me with concern.

  I held my knives up, unwilling to succumb to this monster.

  But was he a monster?

  The monster is Bevyn.

  No. That wasn't right. Bevyn had trusted me, showing me to his home, his weapons, his life. But this man had been responsible for those nasty winds, first cutting, and now freezing.

  I did not lower my knives.

  "Bree of Eagleview, why are you afraid of me? I have no reason to hurt you. I only want to join with you, to take you away from the monster you have met in these mountains. Bevyn. He is not who he seems to be. You have learned of our father, but what you have learned is not right. There is only one good son, one man who stands against him, and it is only me. Phalen. If you come with me now, together we can win this war."

  "This war?" I asked. "Which war are you speaking of? Because while I've been told I'll be most important to the fight, I don't believe it."

  "Bree, you must believe it. You are the only one left, the only name that remains in Torin's book."

  "And what happened to all the others? All of those other names? "

  Phalen shook his head sadly. "They have died serving my brother, Bevyn, just as you will if you continue to keep company with him."

  Slowly, almost against my will, I started to lower the knives. I wondered how someone so beautiful could be an enemy, and if he was an enemy, I was lost. We all were.

  "I want to see Bevyn," I said. "Where is he?"

  Phalen flashed those white teeth. His mouth wore a smile, but his eyes gave him away. In them was nothing but darkness, as dark as the mountains we stood beside. I held my knives aloft again and charged him.

  But he was gone. Where a moment before he'd stood in front of me, now there was nothing there but freezing air. I felt a cold hand on my shoulder, and I turned to find him laughing at me. I charged him again, and again he disappeared. But this time, he did not return, leaving nothing behind him except his laughter on the wind.

  I ran for the rocks, hiding inside one of the ground-level caves. I lay down right there on the ground and curled up into a ball. There was nowhere I was safe, not here, not in these caves, not even back in Eagleview. So I resigned myself to freeze to death, it being the only way I could imagine succumbing in that moment.

  I shivered, and the shivering became so great that I wondered if I were, in fact, a puppet on a string. Suddenly, I realized somebody was shaking me, but I could not see them. Had Phalen come back for me? A light appeared, but it was too bright for me to look at, and it blinded me for several long moments.

  "Bree," Bevyn said. "It's just a dream, Bree. Nothing more. Nightmares are common in this place. After a time, you’ll get used to them. But hopefully, you won’t need to stay here that long."

  I rolled over onto my back on the cold stone, my mind trying t
o make sense of the dream.

  Looking up into Bevyn's face did nothing to comfort me. He was the one who looked like a monster, not Phalen. It was confusing. Where Bevyn's teeth were old and rotting, his brother's were white and strong. Where Bevyn's cloak was gray and tattered, his brother's was silver and shimmering.

  I sat up, and for a moment, I looked around for my pack, thinking I might flee. But before I could, Bevyn held out a wand to me.

  "Here, take it. I have no use for it here. The only instrument of magic that still obeys me is my staff. This wand will do you a better service than it does for me."

  I took the wood from his outstretched hand, and immediately the tip caught fire, my fire, white and soft. There was strength in that flame, and I was only just learning how much.

  Bevyn walked across the room and retrieved my pack. He limped back over and dropped it at my feet, the vials clinking as they hit the floor.

  "Oh, sorry," he said. "I forgot. I hope I didn't break any."

  "Do you travel to the Keepers?" I asked, dragging the bag over to where I was sitting. "Or do you have your own stash of Light?"

  "I occasionally do travel," he said. "But I don’t drink the Light so greedily as others do. Perhaps this is part of the reason my magic has grown so weak. It keeps me alive, though, just as it does my brothers and father.”

  “So that’s how you’ve been alive so long?”

  “It is the only way. My father covets Light, sometimes I think even more so than his book. Light is the one thing that has kept him alive and powerful for all these years.”

  I frowned. “I guess I thought you lived under some sort of spell, or that maybe you weren’t…”

  “Human?” he asked.

  I didn’t answer.

  “We’re as human as any other you might find in this world. But you’re right; the only way we’ve been able to stay alive so long has been to drink Light. Only I in my family understand the wickedness of doing such a thing, and so I take less from the great beasts and become less and less powerful as the years pass by.”

  "How often do you visit them? The Keepers?"

  "They are tired; their power in these mountains will soon be gone. Phalen and Varik have drained much Light from them, and I fear they will soon go dark. I do not visit them often, only enough to keep myself alive. The threat of meeting one of my brothers is often too great, and so I stay hidden in the dark.

  I looked down at the book of names, which was close to me on the floor of the cave. I felt certain that if I was quiet enough, the book might speak to me, divulging its secrets.

  I wondered what would happen if I were to burn the pages. Would that change anything?

  That was a childish wish, though. Somehow, Torin was able to hone in on those in the world who might threaten him. I doubted very much that he needed this little book to determine whom to chase.

  "Up now," he said, climbing to his feet. “We have the day ahead of us, and you must practice."

  I stood up, but I was unsure about my teacher. If he’d gradually lost his power, did that mean he’d never had strong power of his own? Did he have enough experience to teach me?

  "Do not doubt me, Bree," he said, seeming to read my face. "What I know better than anyone in this world is the intent of those you will soon face. If I can pass along this knowledge to you, my job will have been done.”

  For that entire day, we practiced with the wand. He seemed amazed that I could bring light and flame to its tip, as he’d never been able to do that, himself. Not even when he’d been young.

  But fire was not always the best choice. Fire offered no stealth, not even in broad daylight. So we worked together to come up with a way for me to bring magical force to the wand without it being seen. It wasn't so much about stamping out the flame; it was more about me calming myself and focusing my mind so that the flame was invisible. If I could imagine what I wanted the wood to do, I could make it happen without the fire. It wasn't as easy as it sounded, but by the end of that first day, I had succeeded at using the wand to lift one of the knives from my belt and stick it into the far wall. It felt like a huge accomplishment. I thought of Zahn, about how his magic always burst forth as fire. Did that make me better than him?

  "I'm tired," I said.

  Bevyn looked frustrated, but I couldn't tell why. Did he expect me to work harder, or was he simply jealous?

  Maybe it was both.

  "You may take an hour," he said. "But there is little time."

  "Time?"

  I’d been traveling at my own speed, which was slow, but I’d made progress, bit by bit.

  "There is never enough time. Even if you stay here in these mountains, you may be forced to fight for your life. In fact, even if we had started the year you were born, it wouldn’t have given us enough time. So now we must race. I can only hide you for so long before Phalen or Varik discover you."

  I took a deep breath and let it go. There was so much that I was up against, so many different ways in which I could fail. It was overwhelming, would have been overwhelming for any sorcerer. And I was new, new to this entire world.

  I walked over to my pack and sat down next to it, placing the wand on the canvas. I was exhausted, even in this place where it seemed I was safer than I'd been since entering the mountains. I lay down on the cold stone floor, propping my head upon the bag. I wondered about Bevyn, about how his own powers had been siphoned away from him.

  "You must be tired, too," I said.

  "What do you mean?"

  "After nine-hundred years?"

  "I don't have the luxury of being tired. My whole existence has been waiting for a chance to finally defeat Torin."

  "What did he do to you?"

  Bevyn shrugged. "He is evil."

  "Of course he is. But that's not my question. What did he do to you? Why aren't you like your brothers?"

  He turned around, opened his cloak, and lifted part of his tunic. The marks of Torin ran all the way down his back.

  "I was the most hated of the bunch," he said. “My mother favored me for this reason. Just like my father, Phalen and Varik sought her approval, and when they found that she preferred me over the others, they killed her and tortured me. For years and years, they tortured me."

  I thought about him with his terrible limp and those scars on his back. They must have really hated him.

  I looked around the room, confused by all the different weapons he had displayed. Surely at some time, he had used these instruments. Why? And why did he no longer?

  "My brothers can visit these mountains, but none of us can stay here. Doing so results in a loss of power. It was over a thousand years ago that Torin cursed these mountains. He made sure that none of the beasts who lived here would ever see the light of day again."

  "And still you've stayed here all this time?"

  He shrugged. "I had little choice. They took my mother from me, and in so doing they took away the one person in this life who loved me."

  I stayed silent for a moment, letting that comment sink in. I imagined what life would have been like if my mother had survived to see me grow.

  "If you have no magic here, wouldn't it be wiser to leave?" I asked.

  He shook his head.

  "Don't you see? While I have come here with the noblest intentions, to meet and aid the ultimate foe against my father, I stay because of my fear of leaving. I fear what they will do to me, the three of them together."

  I was beginning to understand why fighting for this cause, dangerous, insane even, was something I needed to do. Bevyn was here because he was hiding. Because, in a way, he was a coward. Though I knew if I were to ask any more questions, he would simply say he had been waiting for me. The girl whose name was last in the book. The girl who had a chance, however slim, of defeating Torin.

  He hobbled over to the corner and sat down, and it was then that I truly saw the exhaustion on his face. It may have been his fear that held him back, that kept him here. But it was also true that fro
m here, he could watch the world, keep track of things, keep a history about what had really happened. What would happen.

  He lay down, and I could almost hear his bones relaxing with his groan.

  What a terrible life. After everything I'd seen, Oriana, Malcolm, and the horrible treatment of Regan and Brennen when they were still with the Lifters, those things all faded in comparison to this one man's suffering. I wondered if he would ever recover. Or would he stay here, alone and powerless, waiting for the day of his death, of his release from this life of torture?

  "Have you ever seen any of the others? Any of the people in the book?"

  "No."

  "Then how did you know I would eventually come?"

  "I didn't. I just hoped that you would. The main goal, of course, has been to hide the book from them all.”

  "I bet you didn't know you would have to train me," I said.

  "I didn't know what to expect. You could’ve been anything. Good. Evil. Anything at all. These tools behind me," he gestured to the wall, “I brought them with me at first to defend myself, then to give to whomever showed up. There are so few in the world with brave hearts."

  "I don't think that's true," I said. “I’ve only traveled for months, not years or centuries, like you. But I've seen much bravery, and it heartens me. I never knew there was so much good in the world, either."

  He scoffed at me. His life had shown him a different truth. I imagined living for hundreds of years, hated by everyone around me. I had only been around for seventeen years. I was hated by only a few in Eagleview, but that had been enough to drive me away.

  "I think we should continue," he said, climbing to his feet. "This is too much talk for me."

  He held out his hands to me, and I took them, allowing him to help me up.

  "What will you do when I'm gone?" I asked.

  "Don't you worry about me. We should focus on you. You, I hope, will survive."

  Chapter 6