Heart of Darkness

by Jaide Fox

  Five men walked into the room, each clad in a black robe but with the hoods down. There was a sort of concern on their faces, but also boredom and a sense of disinterest, as though they were wasting their time.

  They walked in a 'V' and the man at the head, stepped forward and walked towards the eldest boy's bed. The mattress' upon which they were laying, were almost a foot off the floor and the robe-wearing man kicked the boy's foot. When he didn't stir, the man kicked harder, then nudged the leg. The boy finally groaned and the man smirked then headed further up the bed and kicked his arm.

  The eldest child's eyelids fluttered and another moan escaped his lips. They were stained with white, as though he were severely dehydrated and desperately needed a drink.

  “Get up. Tis time,” the man said with a grunt and then bent down to grab the boy's arm. When it flopped limply back down to the thin mattress and he jerked the child's body, it was as though he were lifting a rag doll. He grunted with a strange mixture of satisfaction and dissatisfaction. Content perhaps that the boy was weak, yet unhappy that he could not do whatever the man wanted him to do.

  Two others separated themselves from the main group and did the same with the two younger boys, who were even responsive than the eldest.

  “They're too weak, Samuel,” a blond robe-clad man muttered.

  “They're not too weak,” Samuel spat. “Magick is integral to their beings, David!” He shot the man a glare and then kicked the eldest again. “Control the air,” he ordered and when not a spark was evident, literally swung his leg high into the air and with enough pressure to make the boy cry then grunt with pain, Samuel jolted him with his foot.

  The younger dark child cried as the other man did the same and grunted, “Make fire!”

  “James, don't touch that one. Remember?” David yelled as James made the move to kick the blond boy.

  “I'm not an idiot! No reason I can't hit the boy just because he can suck the sound out of the room and drench me so I look as though I've pissed myself!”

  Samuel grunted, “Be quiet!”

  “They're obviously weak. Doesn't matter if magick is integral to them or not, they're not worth a bloody thing.” David rushed over to Samuel and grabbed him by the shoulder then dragged him back towards the door. “Leave them.”

  Samuel shrugged off the hand but nodded and stomped towards the door. “We'll be back tomorrow. Have Justin feed them and make sure they eat,” he said with a grunt before he left the room and the others joined them.

  The grating of the lock sounded loud in the room and as soon as the door was shut and there were footsteps away from the chamber, the dark blond boy sat up slowly and then hissed. Instantly, the other two shot up and rushed to him and sat around him. The boy closed his eyes and raised his hands but had them so his palms faced the floor. Slowly, drops of water trickled from his palms and the other two collected it in a cup they made of their hands.

  After they quenched their thirst, the eldest said, “Wolfe, how close are you to burning the window frame?”

  “Very close. Tonight should do it.”

  “Good. They should have thought about reinforcing the exits!”

  “It won't stop the bars, Jaegar.”

  “No, Gerard, it won't but I can do that. I've never done it before but I should be able to separate them. You already know this, Ger, you're not bottling on us, are you?”

  “No. Just trying to hold the faith, mon ami.”

  “Well, there's no need. We're there. It's taken us nine fucking years to exit this damned hole, but now we are ready. They've underestimated us for the last time, all right?”

  In unison, the other two spat, “The last time.”

  ****

  “I think I shall vomit,” Isabeau murmured under her breath as she dressed herself in the attire that Jaegar had laid out for her and thought about the dream that had overtaken her subconscious the night before.

  She grimaced at the memory of a young Wolfe, so unbearably thin and ill-looking and her heart weeped for all of them. The kick that the man called Samuel had delivered Jaegar, made her own ribs ache.

  Isabeau closed her eyes and shifted her focus from the three men's, who she had so recently come to know, past and concentrated on the present. For at this moment in time, she was relying upon two of them to save her from the other.

  She was in no doubt that Gerard would be helping Wolfe. The two were best of friends, after all.

  She sighed at her predicament and could do naught but shrug it off. Twas that, or she'd break down and start sobbing!

  The robe she wore fit so perfectly, that a part of her wondered how long Jaegar had planned this. Unlike the dress of yesterday, which had poorly fitted her and had been in the old Empire-line style, this one appeared to be more a la mode. With its puffed sleeves and lace at the décolleté and wrists and the fullness of the skirt.

  Whilst she was certain, thanks to Wolfe's dream, that Wolfe had been seeking her for a long time, she also knew that there was no love lost between the two half-brothers. It would not have surprised her if each man had planted a spy within the other's camp.

  Isabeau assumed that the rivalry was mostly on Jaegar's part and if she were honest, she could understand his bitterness but not towards Wolfe, towards his father. The man who had abandoned him and ruined his good name. Wolfe hadn't done that.

  This intense dislike she saw upon Jaegar's face whenever he mentioned his brother's name, told her that where Wolfe felt sad, weary and cautious about the enmity between them, there was active negative emotion on Jaegar's behalf.

  If Jaegar knew that Wolfe was seeking her due to a legend, one that would possibly help him revert to his original form of a child of the light, then Jaegar would more than likely do everything within his power to stop that.

  As she walked down the corridor and walked to a salon that was next to Jaegar's study accompanied by a footman, Isabeau realized that the man who fancied himself as her fiancé was taking sibling jealousy and rivalry to another level. And she, well, she was caught in the cross-hairs!

  She took a seat in the salon, which again was perfectly delightful to the eye yet left her as cold as though she'd been left in the cold storage for the entire night. It took only a few minutes for Jaegar to enter the room, and she felt the crawl of his eyes over her body and felt almost sickened by it. Isabeau could only liken it to the feeling of a slug creeping along the contours of her flesh.

  He had repulsed her the first time she had seen him, in her sharing of Wolfe's dreams. But now, it went far deeper than that. Yesterday, he had simply compounded it by both abducting her and his desire to force her to abort Wolfe's child. If she did indeed turn out to be pregnant. To simply look upon him was to have her stomach turn upside down.

  She pursed her lips and kept her head turned towards the fire. It was cold again and the fires had been lit over the entirety of the castle. The dress, she wore, was scanty, whilst covering every part of her, but the strategically placed lace inserts left far too much flesh bare to the eye. She felt most discomforted by it.

  “Would you like something to drink or eat before the ritual starts?” he asked suavely and she shot him a glare of immense dislike.

  “No! I would not.”

  “You haven't eaten all day, Isabeau. There are ways of ensuring you eat, you know?”

  “What? Are you going to force feed me now? Not content with suggesting you make me bleed to death as I rid myself of a child I want but that you don't, you want to damage my insides by forcing food down me? What a charming husband you shall be,” she retorted bitterly and turned her head back to the flickering, bright flames.

  Isabeau thought back to yesterday, when she'd been sat before an equally warm fire and had never felt happier. The only doubt on the horizon had been whether her love for Wolfe was shared or not. Now, she had far more to contend with and not a clue of how to save herself.

  The manor house was laden with armed men. They lounged about the halls and rooms i
n a most discomforting way, for when she walked along the corridors and halls and they spotted her, she felt their leering gaze and detested it immensely.

  Wolfe had yet to come for her and even though she was certain he would, she feared that he would not be in time. She had waited all day, knowing all the while that it was futile for his body did not function as perfectly during the day as it did at night, and that to wait for him was ridiculous. Now, it appeared that the ritual would be happening almost immediately and she wanted nothing more but to run away and hide.

  If she could have pretended to be ill, then she would have done her very best to do so!

  “If you do not wish to drink or eat, then come, the ritual awaits.”

  Her eyes flashed up at him and sweetly, she said, “Actually, I find I'm quite ravenous. Please can you ask the kitchens to send me something?”

  She damned herself for not having taken advantage of this delaying tactic moments before, but that was all that was left to her and now she realized it, she would take full advantage of it!

  “Of course. I thought you might change your mind, my dear.”

  Isabeau wanted to spit at him and demand he not call her his anything, because she wasn't his. She was Wolfe's. Even if the foolish man didn't understand it!

  Within moments, a lot more swiftly than she had hoped, a small table was placed before her. Upon it were daintily sliced sandwiches, a large tea cake and a silver tea service and caddy.

  She looked at him questioningly, but said nothing, just waited for him to tell her how he wished his tea prepared, for there were two cups and she nodded her head, when he said, “Milk with two sugars please.”

  She placed two sugar cubes into his dish then settled the small sieve on the rim and spooned some of the loose tea into it. Pouring the water through the tea, she then added his milk and proffered it to him.

  She herself took a sandwich and ate as slowly as she dared. Nibbling the outer edges first then the inner and then taking another four more and doing the same. She made a palaver of eating the damson tea cake too. Picking the fruit from the slice she cut herself with her dessert fork, then eating what felt like a crumb at a time.

  By the time he had started to look dreadfully impatient, she felt as though she would never be able to look a damson in the eye ever again!

  He held out a hand wordlessly and equally as silently, she took it and raised herself to her feet.

  Isabeau was led out of the room, to the main hall and then down the other off-shooting corridor. At the bottom of said-corridor, was a single door. There was something ominous about that door. Perhaps it was because she knew that her fate lay behind it, or there was genuinely something frightening about its wooden aesthete.

  Rolling her eyes at the thought, she stepped through the door as Jaegar opened it for her and walked into what was similar to the chapel at Wolfe's home, but it was less ornate and less purpose built.

  At the foot of the room was an enormous stained glass window. It depicted the sun and the moon merging together--another portent perhaps?

  Before the window was an ornate golden altar. It was simply shaped, like a narrow table, but it was decorated with numerous carved, metal rosettes. She assumed it was gold, from the lustrous gleam, she knew it to be. But the sheer amount of the metal positively perplexed her!

  Upon the golden table was a large plate and upon that was a large bowl in a dull copper that was burnished and tarnished mottled-green with age. It was in a huge contrast to the opulence of the altar.

  He held out his hand for hers and she hesitantly took it, as she did, her head turned backwards through the still open doorway as though hoping and praying for Wolfe to be there. He wasn't.

  Trying not to lose faith, she kept her head held high and focused on the altar as they walked towards it.

  “Hand me your ring, Isabeau.”

  She pursed her lips with displeasure as she removed it then, rather than be grabbed by him, a seemingly invisible tuft of air swept it from her fingers and the ring traveled from the tip of her finger to the copper bowl. It dropped with a clang.

  She noticed that he did not attempt to touch it with his hands--apparently, he'd learned a lesson yesterday!

  Isabeau watched as Jaegar's hand went to a pocket in his frock coat and he produced a plain band of dull silver, which she took to be platinum for anything less for the son of Duke seemed laudable, and he dropped that into the metal bowl too.

  “Copper is a fabulous conduit for power. Even the weakest of Sidhe can channel through copper.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” she asked with a frown.

  “Oh, I don't know, I thought perchance you might be interested in the ceremony that will tie you to me...? How foolish of me!”

  “The longer I'm with you, Jaegar, the more I understand how Wolfe's mother felt when your father tied her into a marriage she did not want.”

  He smiled, but it was more of a grimace that had his teeth bared angrily at her.

  “What is your strongest talent?”

  If it would have done her any good, she would have used her latest talent to stupefy him! But as they'd just walked through a hall that had been laden with rough and tough men at arms and who she would have to somehow slip through without being seen, Isabeau knew that Jaegar was the only part of this disastrous situation that kept her safe. Future wife of their leader, she may be. But without the leader, Isabeau knew that mass-rape was her fate.

  Call her fussy, but that was not a prospect she fancied.

  Instead, she glared at him and said, “Healing.”

  “Press your finger to the bowl and charge it with your magick as though you were trying to cure someone. We do this at the same time, Isabeau,” he murmured and did as he'd bid her and watched on as she complied as well.

  She gasped when the bowl began to glow a fiery red and her flesh began to burn from the heat the metal emitted.

  “Keep your hand there until the rings glow,” he commented and she noticed that the strain of the burning pain began to take its toll on himself as well.

  Isabeau's eyes were glued to the rings and as she watched and saw that they had yet to glow, she automatically charged the strength of her talent. She gasped as she felt her power began to drain and as soon as the metal indeed began to shimmer with light, Isabeau dropped her hand away from the bowl.

  She shook her hand and took a step away from the altar. Her knees began to tremble and she knew that she was one step away from fainting.

  Planting her hands on the altar, Isabeau sucked in a deep breath and attempted to regain her composure, but it was difficult as she could not remember exerting so much power before. How she wished she could run away at this moment. For if she felt this way, then he surely did. What a perfect time to escape!

  Almost as though he had caught her thoughts, he looked at her pointedly for a moment, then commented, “If you feel like doing the same to me as you did my men the night before...” He paused and noted her narrowed glance with a smile. He tugged at her hand then raised it to his face.

  “Why can't I touch you?” she asked with a frown.

  “Because I can manipulate air,” was all he said. “I'm protected from little things like stupefaction.”

  “Yes, but I believe that metal slices through air. No?”

  The voice came from nowhere and both Jaegar and she were shocked out of their intentness with one another and into spinning around to face the orator.