Spring Showers Box-set

by Avell Kro

  Finally in bed and comfortable, Gil sighed. He was glad his mother remained silent; he did not want

  to have to explain the position he was in again. Hopefully she finally understood. It would be a

  different problem if they were being malicious towards him, but boys being boys, they were

  simply boisterous. The hot water had helped ease the stiffness and dull the pain and it was not

  long before sleep took him.

  Marta quietly opened the door to Gil’s room to check that he was asleep on her way to bed.

  Standing there looking at him, she could not help but feel a deep sense of pride. She had always

  feared he would be singled out as the smallest and weakest boy in the village, but if anything, he

  had proven time again that he was not the weakest.

  Leaning against the door frame watching her son sleep, Marta could not help but feel angry and

  frustrated. These feelings could not be directed at anyone and she knew that, but inside her, she

  held onto a feeling of resentment towards the healers.

  When she had fallen sick, the healers had done everything they could to save both mother and

  child and they had almost lost both. They had made a hard decision and removed the baby from

  the womb before it was ready. They were then able to treat Gil and remove all the infected tissue

  from Marta.

  Taking this action, the healers had saved both lives. However, their actions were not without

  consequence. Gil had not fully developed before his birth and this meant that while everyone else

  around him would grow tall and strong, he would always be considered the runt of the litter. The

  second consequence, which Marta was now thinking about, was her inability to have any more

  children.

  She tried not to dwell on such negative thoughts, but every time she looked at Gil, she hated herself

  for not being able to give him a brother to help look after and protect him. Reminding herself that

  he was alive and healthy, she closed the door and went to get some sleep.

  ***

  Sitting up startled, Marta was sure something had woken her, but listening intently she could not

  hear anything. She looked around for anything out of place, but there was only darkness and

  silence surrounding her. Taking several deep breaths, she tried to slow her breathing before lying

  back down. Her heart was still racing and her hands shook as she pulled the blanket back over

  herself.

  Now that she had woken abruptly, it was difficult to quiet her mind and let sleep take her, however hard she tried. Then, she heard a creaking of floorboards outside her room. It was only a brief noise

  and not very loud, but it was loud enough to break the night silence. Straining to listen, there was a

  moment of doubt and Marta was no longer sure if she had heard a noise. As the seconds passed,

  she thought more and more that it was her imagination, but to be sure, she reached under the bed

  and picked up the large mallet she kept there.

  By the time she began to fall back asleep, she was sure that she had never heard the noise, that it

  had all been her mind playing tricks on her, or it was the house settling as the night cooled.

  Suddenly, there was the click of the door handle being turned, followed by the slight creak from the

  rusty hinge as the door opened. She knew she definitely heard that and she tightened her grip on

  the handle of the mallet. Pretending to be asleep, she waited for the intruder to approach the bed.

  Slow footsteps approached and she knew that whoever it was, they were trying to tread gently,

  trying to make the least amount of noise as possible as they moved closer to her. Lying there she

  held her breath and tried not to give away the fact she was awake.

  The footsteps got closer and when they stopped, there was a moment of apprehension as she

  considered what to do next. With her back to the intruder, she prepared herself for what was to

  come. All fear and doubt was removed when the blanket covering her moved. Instinct instantly

  took over and the cover was pulled off, her arm swept around as she rolled to face her attacker.

  A strong powerful hand grabbed her wrist and stopped it dead, the mallet failing to meet its target.

  Struggling to free her arm, she twisted in the bed, trying to throw the intruder off balance, but it

  was no good. She was held tight and as she twisted, a pain flared through arm.

  “Will you keep still woman,” came the deep voice,a voice that she oddly recognised.

  “It can’t be you. You’re not meant to be here?”

  “I thought I would surprise you, so I travelled hard to get here early. It seems you were expecting

  someone else maybe,” laughed Connor.

  It took Marta more than a few minutes to calm herself. She had not been expecting Connor home

  and having an intruder in her bedroom had her heart pounding in her chest. The only time she

  remembered ever being that scared before, was when she was younger and a wild dog had tried to

  attack her. Luckily the dog had been stopped, but she would always have the scars on her arm as a

  reminder.

  Pushing Connor out of her way, she stood and walked over to the small table in the corner. Picking

  up a face cloth, she wiped the sweat from her brow, her hands still shaking as she did. The room

  was only small, with the bed pushed up against the wall opposite the door, a small table in the

  corner to the right of the door and a chest with their clothes in to the left. It did not take Connor

  more than two strides to reach Marta and he put his arms around her waist, resting his head on

  her shoulder.

  “I’m sorry I gave you a scare, I was trying to show my softer side,” said Connor, kissing Marta’s neck and slowly moving up to her cheek.

  “I didn’t marry you for your softer side you know.”

  A wicked grin lit his face.“Is that a fact now,” and with that he lifted her easily and carried her back

  to the bed. As he bent to lay her on the bed, he dropped her and jumped on the bed himself.

  Chapter 4

  Being scared of the outside world had forced Newt to find a career in which she could lock herself

  away in a dark place for days on end without having to venture outside, or talk with people. One of

  the clerks in the Council office was a friend of Newt’s father. Knowing that Newt lacked confidence

  and was shy around everyone, Castien had spoken to her father about an opportunity for her.

  Newt was a frail young girl with jet-black hair and a pale complexion. Her aversion to sunlight gave

  her skin paper-like qualities, and it was, in places, almost translucent. Her character and fear of

  almost everything meant that she did not have any friends or work to occupy her mind. Instead,

  she sat at home in the dark, alone. That was until Castien had the idea of offering her a position in

  the archives.

  It was a job that no one wanted; yet it held everything that Newt could want. There were no

  windows in the basement, so it was always dark. What little light the few lamps on the walls were

  providing there. No one ever visited the archives and being asked to go down there to retrieve a

  document or research a particular subject, was considered punishment and only the apprentices

  were ever given that job.

  Newt had always felt alone in the world. Sometimes she felt that she had been born in the wrong

  time. Working in the archives had turned her mind from the deep-seated sense of loneliness she

  felt and focused her feelings on somethi
ng more positive. As with everything she undertook, Newt

  had dedicated herself to re-organising the archives and learning all the secrets they had to offer.

  It had been obvious from the start that whoever last worked here had tried to create a system, but

  it was not a job that was considered respectable, so they had given up and moved on. In the years

  since then, anything that needed to be added to the archives had just been piled against a bookcase

  on the far wall. It had taken Newt six years, but she finally had the archives how she wanted them

  and knew where everything was.

  The administration buildings in the centre of Elysia housed the clerks, of who there were many,

  and the council, who created and withheld the laws on Elysia. Underneath these buildings lay a

  series of large caverns and interconnecting tunnels that had been created thousands of years ago

  when the city was first built.

  The central building for the administration held the council chambers, but for Newt, it also held the

  entrance to the archives. Originally designed to protect important work, the archives had been

  hol owed out of the rock below what was then a small city. Four large rooms had originallybeen

  made, but over time and as the city above grew, so did the archives. Now a series of smaller caves

  had been carved and connected to the four original ones by a series of tunnels.

  ***

  It was a particularly late night in the archives. Newt had been working all afternoon, and she had

  almost finished filing the latest manuscripts that had been delivered. They had not contained any

  important information; it was the manuscripts themselves that held value. These were the only

  copies from when Angels walked among men, from a time when they walked the mortal world and

  lived among its people.

  She had been making a copy of these books, and as she sat waiting for the ink to dry on the last

  page, she heard the door opening. She was on the far side of the room, hidden by several large

  stacks of book on her desk, so she could not see who entered. It was late into the night, and she

  suddenly became aware of how vulnerable she was, working here alone.

  “Hello?” came a deep resounding voice. “Is there anyone here?”

  “I’m… back here,” stammered Newt. In all her time here, this was the first visitor she had had.

  As she stood from behind her desk, standing in front of her was the largest man she had ever seen,

  dressed all in white. Shaking she looked down at the floor, not sure if she would be berated for

  looking up at him.

  “You don’t need to be afraid. I just want some information if you have it,” said the man in white.

  “I’l try and help you if I can, what information do you need?”

  “How are you going to help me if you don’t raise your head? You’ll be forever bumping into things,”

  smiled the man in white.

  To Newt, it felt like he could read her very thoughts and was trying to put her at ease by being

  pleasant and even a little charming. Slowly she raised her head and straining her neck, looked him

  in the eyes. The first thing she noticed was his deep brown eyes, they were almost lifeless, and this

  sent a shiver down her back. Standing in front of this imposing figure had her scared, but when

  she looked into those lifeless eyes, her knees gave way, and she fell to the floor lost.

  The world had momentarily gone black. As she opened her eyes, Newt was staring directly into

  those eyes, and a shiver ran down her back. She had never seen eyes like his before. They seemed

  to hold no feelings, and that frightened her.

  “You don’t have to fear me, I just want some information about the city, and then I’l leave,” said the

  man in white as he stood lifting Newt back to her feet. “My name is Salabane.”

  Newt was still finding it difficult being in the presence of such a cold person, but she had to

  concede he was polite and had not tried to hurt her. It was just those eyes. Normally you can tell if

  a person has a joyful soul, or seen too much heartache just from looking into their eyes. With

  Salabane, when she looked into his eye, it was almost as if there was no soul behind them at all,

  but the more she looked into those lifeless pools, the deeper she sank.

  “I’m Newt, what is it you need information on?” asked Newt, pulling her mind back and looking

  away.

  “I have heard stories of underground tunnels and secret passageways that run throughout Elysia.

  Do you know if there is any truth to these rumours?”

  Newt was about to ask why he needed such information but then thought twice about it. There

  was a feeling of dread each time she looked into those cold eyes. She had the feeling that if she

  asked the wrong question, it would be the end. Yet, deep down she also felt a connection with this

  stranger, almost as if she understood him, shared a connection (maybe another word than

  connection) with him.

  “I have heard mention of them, but I have not come across anything in the archives. There is still a

  section that I have not yet catalogued,and it contains many scripts and scrolls from when the city

  was first created. If there is going to be anything about the tunnels in the archives, it will be in

  there.”

  “If it is agreeable with you,” began Salabane, “I would like to spend some time in here looking for

  any information? I would also ask your help. You know the archives better than anyone else and

  your knowledge would be invaluable.”

  “What happens when you find the information you’re looking for?” asked Newt. She had tried to

  remain calm and quiet, but fear and a deep curiosity forced her to ask the question, and as if

  knowing exactly what she was thinking, he answered.

  “I have not come here for you. You have nothing to fear from me. All I ask is that once I have

  finished in the archives and have found what I need, you forget that you ever met me. If anyone

  comes here asking about me, then you are not to say anything about me. Is that clear?”

  “Umm,” nodded Newt. It was all she could do. She knew that this man was capable of murder and

  she did not want to give him reason to come looking for her.

  ‘There are those in the city and in the world,” continued Salabane, “that want to do me harm. To get

  to me they would do unspeakable things to you, things that you could never image would never

  want to image. They would peel the skin from your body while you were alive, to get you to talk.

  Even if you told them everything, they would not believe you until you were dead, but that would

  be a long time coming. I say this not to scare you, but to show you that it is safer to forget I was

  here.”

  “What if someone sees you coming and going?” shuddered Newt.

  “If they see me, then I will be dead, so it will not matter.”

  The fear had passed for the moment, and Newt was sat thinking about all the questions that were

  in her head. It was obvious he was not going to harm her. From his mannerisms and the way he

  spoke to her, she knew that he was a man of his word and that put her at ease.

  “How long do you have to find the information?”

  “I will spend all the time in the world looking if I have to. I need to find a way to get around the city

  without being detected by others. I also need a way to quickly get back down to the surface if you

  have any ideas about that?”

  �
��I do actually,” replied Newt. “I need to leave shortly to check on my father, but you are welcome to stay and begin your search? I can show you the best place to start.”

  “No thank you. This is place is yours not mine, and I do not want to intrude. I will return in the

  morning.”

  With that, Salabane turned and walked out of the door without so much as a backward glance.

  Once he was gone, Newt breathed a sigh of relief and lifting the candle from her desk; sherealised

  how scared she had been. The light from the candle battled the shadows on the wall as her hand

  shook and she put the candle back down before she had an accident.

  Sat with her elbows on the desk, she rested her head in her hands while she considered everything

  that had just happened. What have I got myself into? She asked herself. He is clearly a killer, so will he keep to his word and not harm me, or will he dispose of me when he’s finished?

  While fear and logic dictated her thoughts, there was something still pulling at her, tel ing her that

  he would not harm her. It was difficult for her to explain, but the feeling put her at ease, it made

  her feel that they shared an unspoken bond. They were both lonely people who shied away from

  others and seldom put themselves in a position where there would be groups of people. Little did

  she know, but the similarities between the two ran much deeper than that.

  SMOKE AND MIRRORS

  THE DIVISION #1

  Angus McLean

  Copyright 2015 Angus McLean

  License Notes

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  Acknowledgements

  The author would like to thank the advisers who have assisted with the writing of this book. They must