by Koboah, A D
“But the chapel,” I said finally. “It’s the only way I can prove that this is true. If I go there, I know I’ll be able—”
“Chapel? What chapel? Would you just get to bed and leave me alone?”
I looked up quickly. She was lying on the bed with her eyes half closed again. “The chapel in her journal. You mentioned it just now.”
“I didn’t say anything about any damn chapel. What I said was that you need to get out of my room and let me get some sleep.”
She had already turned over and pulled the pillow over her head but I didn’t care because I felt a tingling excitement. She didn’t remember mentioning the chapel. She didn’t remember because she wasn’t the one who had ordered me to stay away from it.
They were real and they were still in Atlanta.
I ran out of the room and into the bathroom.
After a quick shower, I got dressed and packed a few things before leaving a note for my aunt letting her know that I was going to Mississippi and would be back tomorrow night at the latest.
I felt an apprehensive giddiness when I jumped in my aunt’s car and drove to the airport. I was about to do something that would change everything, not only for me, but for all of us Marshalls. All I had to do was get to the chapel.
***
After a very long and tiring morning filled with too many frustrations and minor setbacks, I found myself at the Holbert plantation house. They weren’t doing any tours that day but, armed with my sketchpad, I tried to charm my way onto the property by telling the housekeeper I was an artist doing a very important project on old church buildings. But in the end it took a very large bribe to get permission to visit the chapel. The housekeeper, having tucked all the money I had brought with me in her shirt pocket, became suddenly helpful and even offered to take me there. But there was no need. I left the house and ducked into the trees, knowing exactly where I was going as if I had taken this path many times before.
It was a much longer walk through the woods than I had been expecting but at last I broke out of the trees and into the clearing. It was a slightly overcast day and heavy grey clouds hung over the clearing, adding to the aura of wretchedness that clung to the place. The chapel loomed before me amidst a tangle of wild grass. Even though many years had passed, it still had a sinister and forbidding aspect to it and I shivered as I took it in.
I was scared now and cold, even though it was a warm, sticky day. But I hadn’t come all this way just to turn back, so I approached and only hesitated for a second before I pushed against the wooden door. It gave grudgingly and I walked into a cool dark space that smelt of burnt wood and damp and spoke of years of decay. The oppressive energy I had felt in the clearing was even stronger inside and I clearly felt the presence of the hundreds, perhaps thousands of people for whom this chapel had been the last thing they had seen before dying in agony and terror.
I exhaled a shaky breath. I was surprised Luna had not sensed this on the many occasions she had sought sanctuary in the chapel because the evil here was like a dark cloak that had wrapped itself around me. Needing to find whatever proof still existed here and leave, I quickly walked down the aisle to what was left of the altar, constantly looking over my shoulder and expecting to find something behind me each and every time. When I got to the altar, I knelt down and felt around, trying to find a loose floorboard. To my astonishment, I felt one shift slightly under my probing fingers and I pried it open, breaking two fingernails in the process.
I was expecting to see the money and the map Avery had left for Luna in case of emergencies, but instead I found a package carefully wrapped in a red silk scarf. I removed the scarf and uncovered a very old and tattered green book. It was the Bible Luna had hidden here so very long ago. I stroked it in awe and then wrapped it back up in the scarf and put it carefully into my bag. I thought about staying and having a proper look around for other clues that they had existed, but the atmosphere was so claustrophobic and foreboding that I headed back outside into the daylight. Besides, the Bible was all the proof I needed.
Back outside, I rubbed away at the dirt on my trousers and tried to get the sooty black stains off my fingers as I walked to the back of the chapel where the stream was waiting for me. I stared at it for the longest time, imagining Luna leaning over it in her despair whilst Avery watched from his hiding place in the trees. Being in this place made them seem so close that I could almost see them.
Inspired, I sat down on the grass and took out my notepad. I began to sketch the images that came into my mind. I sketched many pictures of the chapel and the stream from as many angles as I could, always inserting an image of Luna or Avery as I imagined them to look in my head. When my hand began to ache, I finally put my pencil down and saw that the sun was beginning to set. It wasn’t the sizzling blood red sky Luna had been looking at the first time she had unwittingly come across Avery, but a sultry mix of dusky oranges and golds blotted by smoky grey clouds. I got up, not wanting to get lost in the woods once the sun set and plunged everything into darkness. Apprehensive now that it was almost dark, and I was still here with the evil that had cloaked this clearing in malevolence for centuries, I hurriedly gathered up all the loose sheaves of paper and slung my bag over my shoulder, then walked quickly toward the trees. In my haste, the drawings flew out of my hand and large sheets of paper floated softly to the ground around me.
“Damn it!” I mumbled, feeling quite anxious now as I scooped down to pick them up. In my uneasy glances over my shoulder, the chapel was like a silent wraith in the fading light.
I gathered up all the drawings but found that there was one missing, the sketch of Luna kneeling at the stream.
“I should have known you would come here despite my warning this morning.”
I froze, my mouth suddenly dry and my scalp tingling. Even if it hadn’t been for that unmistakable English accent I would have known that smooth, deep voice. Slowly, I straightened, feeling a degree of fear, because even though he had spoken softly, there had been an unmistakable edge in his tone.
A tall muscular white male was standing in the gloom cast by the trees. When he moved out of the shadows into the burning gold light of the setting sun and I saw him properly, I felt my heart leap. His hair was short now, framing an impossibly handsome face, and he wore a white T-shirt, faded jeans and white runners. He glanced briefly at the drawing of Luna kneeling by the stream, which he was holding in his left hand.
“This is very good, Dallas,” he continued.
I couldn’t speak. Luna had described him in her journal as handsome, beautiful and perfect. But there was really only one word to accurately describe this man. He was fine!
He stood there watching me carefully as if waiting for something. No, not waiting. Listening. Realising too late that those were not the kind of thoughts I should be thinking around someone who could read minds, I quickly looked down at the ground.
“I’ll stop if you like,” he said politely.
“No,” I said quickly, unnerved and embarrassed. “I know so much about you, it’s only fair I let you get to know me a little.”
I thought I saw relief pass over his features but I couldn’t be sure, especially since he appeared to be so stern.
“This isn’t a safe place to be. Luna’s journal should have taught you that, if nothing else.”
“I know. But I had to come. And...and...this isn’t the first time I’ve met you, is it?”
“No, it isn’t. And although I usually make you forget our encounters, you always remember the moment you lay eyes on me again.”
He was right. I was remembering everything now. The time I got lost in the park at age five, he had been there. He had bought me an ice cream and waited with me until my nanny found me. There were many memories of him flitting through my mind now, most of them merely brief glimpses of him over the years but it seemed he had always been there.
“You were there last night, and it was you at the Candy Room that time. You took me home w
hen Omar went off with that girl.”
I had been only fourteen at the time, drunk, and maybe even a little bit high on something. Omar was twenty-five, liked young girls and drugs. When Omar left that night I had fallen asleep (well, passed out) in the ladies toilets and the next thing I remembered was being held up in Avery’s arms as he tried to flag down a cab. He had spent the entire journey home lecturing me about my reckless, irresponsible behaviour whilst I gazed up at him adoringly, wishing he would stop talking and—
“Yes, I remember exactly what you were thinking that night. I don’t need reminding,” he said.
I smiled sheepishly, glad that my dark skin hid the warm blush that was spreading across my face.
“I want you to leave here, Dallas, and never come looking for me again.”
My smile disappeared. Slightly stung by his words, I fought back tears and tried to keep the emotion out of my voice.
“You...you’re different from how she described you.”
His face darkened. “That was some two hundred years ago. I’m nothing like I was then so don’t mistake me for some gentle puppy like some of your other relatives have made the mistake of doing in the past. Now, go. I don’t want you anywhere near the chapel when it gets dark.”
“Wait,” I said. There was a slightly petulant tone in my voice and I had one hand on my hip. “I want to see Luna before I go. I’m not leaving until I see her.”
He flinched at the mention of her name. But when his gaze met mine, the anger dancing in his eyes made my heart quicken. For the first time I was reminded of the fact that I wasn’t dealing with a man. I was dealing with a powerful superhuman being.
“I’m not going to ask you again, Dallas,” he said.
Scared, I nodded and he held out the drawing to me.
But my thoughts were still on Luna, my curiosity piqued by his reaction when I’d mentioned her name. I may have been frightened but I considered these two beings my family now and it wasn’t going to be easy for me to walk away from them. So when he held out the drawing a thought occurred to me. Something I had read in Luna’s narrative. He had once described his body as living marble, so maybe, just maybe...
I moved toward him but instead of reaching for the drawing I quickly stepped past his outstretched hand and, closing the space between us, placed both hands on the side of his head.
He could have easily evaded my grasp but he merely stiffened slightly when my warm soft hands met his cool skin.
Images, so many images, came rushing at me in a furious whirl. It felt like I was at the heart of a tornado and I almost released the hold I had on him, the intensity of the onslaught like a lump of hot coal in the middle of my brain.
There were too many for me to be able to decipher but most of the ones that I could make out were of Luna. Luna in the drawing room of their mansion, at times laughing or angry but mainly sitting quietly reading or writing in her journal. There was one of Avery at her side, the two of them the only thing standing between a large crowd of white males armed with guns and a household of blacks. Another powerful image was of Avery running through dark woodland, materialising behind Luna just in time to see her snap the neck of a dog before throwing it to the ground. Her laughter pierced the night as she used her telekinetic power to hoist a screaming white male up in the air whilst a group of Negroes slowly backed away from the sight, not knowing of whom to be more afraid, the white men chasing them or the demon that had saved them from torture or death. Another scene showed Avery looking through a shop window at a wedding dress and then that same wedding dress lying crumpled on the floor of a large, stately house.
The sharpest image, the one that had the strongest emotional attachment, emotions that were almost violent in their intensity, was of Avery standing on the wind—and rain—swept roof of a cathedral in London looking out into the night. Finally his gaze fell on someone who had taken something precious from him, a being who had hurt him more than he thought possible and whom he hated with a passion that went beyond life and death. He stood up, the long sword in his hand glinting in the moonlight. He gave chase.
I wanted to see more, I wanted to see who or what had caused him so much pain but the images were too numerous, too intense, the pain in my head growing until it felt as if I might buckle under the strain. Then I felt his hands on mine, pulling them away. The images receded, taking the pain along with them.
“Have you seen enough, Dallas?”
There was an undercurrent of anger in his tone but I noticed that he held onto my hands a few seconds longer than he needed to before he let them go.
My head was still swimming with all that I had seen and I was deeply shaken, not only by the intensity of those images, but the answers that had come with them.
Breathing heavily and with tears in my eyes, I gazed sadly up at him.
“She’s dead?”
Again he looked down, struggling with it even now, although she had been dead for over forty years.
“Yes, she’s dead.” His voice was completely toneless but there was no denying the turmoil in his eyes.
I let the silence settle as the light faded around us, the hulking sinister presence of the chapel deepening the sadness that hung between us. At last he was able to meet my gaze again, a weary smile on his lips.
“You were so much easier to deal with when you were a child.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised because I had been a little nightmare who had terrified both parents and the nannies they’d hired to care for me. Only Grandma had been able to cope with me.
His smile broadened, almost touching his eyes.
“Yes, you were a nightmare. But you were adorable. And you couldn’t come looking for me then.” He sighed heavily and the smile faded. “Go home, Dallas,” he said gently. “Being near me has its price, something Luna came to see too late. So go home.”
I blinked back the tears, struggling with my anger at being turned away but feeling an overwhelming compassion for him. He was in so much pain and I could see it was hard for him to even look at me, to look at anything connected to Luna. And he would live forever with this pain.
“Can I ask how you knew, yesterday, that I would be in trouble?”
He smiled again.
“Mama. We became friends in the years that followed. Even after her death, her spirit lingered and she tells me whenever I am needed by either my family or hers.”
He held the drawing out to me again but I shook my head.
“It’s yours.”
He nodded. Unable to prolong the moment any longer, I said goodbye and although it was hard to do, I walked away from him.
Feeling his gaze on me as I walked into the woods, I decided that this wasn’t over.
I’m going, Avery, I thought to myself, knowing full well that he could hear every word. I could even feel him reaching into my mind. But I’m not leaving Mississippi. I’ll be back and it won’t be so easy for you to turn me away next time. So get ready, Avery. Get...
Ready...ready?
Already...
It was already so late but I had no intention of staying in Mississippi overnight. Even if I had to spend most of the night at the airport, I was going to make sure I was on a flight back to Atlanta before morning.
Feeling a degree of relief now that I had made that decision, I hurried through the woods to my rental car. I couldn’t explain why I felt so torn up or why I was clutching my drawings of the chapel. A part of me wanted to throw them away but the thought of doing so horrified me. When I got to the car I noticed that there were tears drying on my cheeks and I felt a sudden desperate urge to run back through the woods to the chapel. But, for what? I quickly got into the car. The sooner I was on a flight out of Mississippi, the better.
But before I drove off I took a moment to admire the setting sun and was momentarily filled with longing and an immense feeling of loss.
I shook it off as I pulled away from the plantation and made my way to the main road, barely noticing the
heavens as night slowly pushed the day back and took over the sky once more.
THE END
Read on for an extract of Rising Dark, the 2nd book in The Darkling Trilogy.
London 1922
I landed silently on the roof of the cathedral in a crouch. The city stretched before me, the buildings clustered together like broken tombstones beneath a night that sat huddled over London like an assassin lying in wait.
Normally my near-indestructible body did not feel the extremes of heat or cold, but tonight I felt everything. I felt the bitter sting of the cruel wind lashing at my face and hands. I also felt the phantom throb of the dagger wound in my left shoulder, although it had healed long before I reached the cathedral. Binding it all with a barbwire kiss was the pain of my loss, which threatened to rend my mind and soul to pieces.
At last I found what I was searching for: a lithe figure on a rooftop in the distance, her profile stark and forlorn against the indigo night sky. She stood with her back to me, looking down on the street below her with an air of tense expectation, a sword dangling casually from her right hand.
Blinding hatred flared within me like the heart of a shooting star as she turned and regarded me for a brief moment. Then she fled, disappearing in midstride as she leapt from one rooftop to the next. She soon melted into the night.
She ran but knew I would follow, and when I did, I would leave behind the Avery I had spent years learning to become once more. That Avery had shunned the seductive lure of death and destruction for the faint light of humanity that had lain dormant for many years in a wilderness of desolation. Tonight I would once more succumb to the demon within and could only hope that, with her death, my humanity would not be lost forever.
I straightened, the sword in my hand glinting in the moonlight.
Visualising myself on a roof a few streets away, I drew the dark energy to me until I was weightless and everything around me dissolved. Seconds later, I burst out of the nothingness, my feet striking the roof I had envisioned in my mind. I was there for less than a second before I disappeared into the ether again.