Brother Of The Dark Places

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Brother Of The Dark Places Page 5

by Miranda Bailey


  Her voice trailed off and I looked over at the bay window. Wolves and dragons, that’s what had gotten into me. Mythical creatures messing with my sleep. I shook it all off and went into the kitchen.

  “I swear, if you laugh at my biscuits I’ll scream. I don’t know what kind of flour that was, but something wasn’t right!” Holly normally made the most mouthwatering biscuits in the world, but the flat little things she put in front of me looked like door stoppers, not biscuits.

  Breakfast didn’t improve when I bit into a sausage. I chewed, grimacing.

  “There’s no seasoning.” I said, puzzled. “And, what is that texture? Is that some kind of flour?”

  Holly looked at the package, still on the counter. “The ingredients say there’s some kind of cereal in them.”

  “Cereal? In sausages? Why? Why would they desecrate a perfectly good sausage like that?” I paused as a shiver went through me. “This might take some getting used to. Is there any, well, cereal in the drawers? Or oatmeal even?”

  We rummaged around and found some bran flakes to eat after we threw away the biscuits and sausage. We both cleaned up the kitchen and looked through everything to see if we had anything to at least make lunch and dinner with tonight.

  “When is that rental car coming?” Holly asked as we walked around a storage building at the back of the yard, well away from the view of the house.

  “Tomorrow, I think. You’d think there’d have been a car in the family somewhere along the way.” I waved at the garage beside the storage building, but we’d checked it and found it empty. “Mom didn’t have any siblings, and there aren’t any other relatives that I know of, so what happened to the car? Surely they had one.”

  “It’s hard to say. Maybe they left it to a charity or something.” Holly always had helpful ideas.

  Before long, we’d figured out how to get into the building and found two bikes, so we decided to go to the small village we’d driven through yesterday. We were almost run over by a speeding van as we pulled out onto the road.

  “What the hell, buttmunch!” Holly shouted as we came to a stop on the side of the road.

  “Um, Holly, I think we’re in the wrong here. They drive on the wrong side of the road, remember?” I felt like an idiot for forgetting that simple, but very well-known detail.

  “We’re going to have to think about that every single time we step into a street, or drive on the road, aren’t we?” She asked as we got back on the bikes and stared down the road.

  I actually had to think about it, and force myself to stay on the wrong side as we rode into the village. My brain was screaming out a warning to me the entire time we were on the road...”you’re on the wrong side!!” I vanquished it, however, and kept to the ‘right’ side.

  We parked outside of a small cafe and went in and ordered tea and some sandwiches.

  Two hot mugs of tea were put on the table in front of us. “Um, could I have some ice please? And we don’t need this milk, thanks.”

  The man that brought us the tea looked at me as though I’d grown another head. Then he smiled as realization dawned.

  “Oh, you’re American. You want that cold filth you lot call iced tea.” He gave me a conspiratorial wink and a good-natured laugh. “Try it, love. Most of your lot find it nice after a cup or two. Just add some milk and sugar. If you don’t like it, I’ll bring you something else.”

  Holly and I both looked at him doubtfully and tried it. He was right, we did like it, even if it was odd to try and eat the sandwiches he soon brought us with a hot drink rather than a cold one. He chortled as he walked away, obviously pleased to have taught us something.

  “So, I saw those wolves again last night.” I said when I’d finished eating, brushing crumbs off the emerald green sweater I’d put on that morning. It brought out the silvery gray of my eyes, especially when I lined them with black eyeliner and some lip gloss.

  “Homey saw what?” She coughed out around the last of the fluffy bread of her sandwich. Those things really were just a crumb factory. I brushed a few from her yellow West Virginia University hoody and smiled. Her makeup was impeccable, but today she’d gone for casual jeans and a pair of ankle-length moccasins instead of the high-heeled boots and tight pants.

  “The wolves. You remember, we saw them in West Virginia that night we came back from the lawyer’s office? In the driveway?”

  “You think there was another pack of wolves in the yard at Wyvern House last night?” Her doubtful look was softened by the concern in her voice.

  “No, they were the same wolves. I swear, Holly, they were right outside of the house.” I tried to explain to her in the empty cafe as the man came back to collect our dishes.

  “Oh, that can’t be, love.” The man said with assurance. “There’s not been wolves in Britain for centuries.”

  I gaped at him, but I saw them!

  “Except for those cubs introduced earlier this year, but they are in the next county over. They don’t come up this way.” He started to wander off again but stopped. “It might have been wild dogs, but we don’t have many of those either.”

  I looked at the man and Holly in confusion. Perhaps I had been dreaming after all? I was just under a lot of strain right? My mother had recently passed away, my life had been turned upside down, and I was now in foreign country where even something as simple as a sausage and riding a bike on the road didn’t make sense. I was going to be disoriented and confused for a while, right?

  We pedaled back to the house in silence, both of us, obviously, just taking in our surroundings, lost in our own thoughts. We really were a world away from all we’d ever known. At least it was all in English. I could only imagine how much worse it would be if I was trying to navigate this new world in Dutch or Spanish. My only experience with foreign languages was my high school French and I hadn’t done very well in that.

  When would a mountain girl ever need to speak French, I’d thought back then. We arrived at the house and Holly went in to check her social media, but I was drawn to the water. Out there, across the English Channel, the place where French was spoken as the accepted daily language actually existed. For all my life, place names like France, Germany, Nepal, were just places on a map.

  Sure, there were people there, things happened, I’d even seen movies about many of the places or from those places, but I’d never expected to actually see any of them. Now, only a few miles of water separated me from an entirely different continent from where I stood on the island I’d never even dared to dream about visiting. What was out there, I wondered as I walked.

  I’d made it down to the beach now, and found that the cliff was dotted with dark holes. Caves!

  My memory of last night’s dream popped up then and I couldn’t help but scoff at myself. I might find a pirate’s treasure, or even some ancient fossils, this was part of the Jurassic Coast, as it was called. I’d never see a dragon, though. They didn’t exist.

  I walked gingerly into the largest of the caves, so tall I didn’t have to bend over. It was dark inside so I took out my cellphone and turned on the camera’s flash. The bright light pierced the darkness as I wandered into the cave. The ground was much like the ground in my dream, sand, water filled holes, rocks jutting out of both. I stepped carefully and held out my phone as I peered into the darkness. At least there wasn’t a light shining deep in the back.

  “You’ll want to watch your step in there, Abigail!”

  Startled, I fell, sharp rocks coming up to meet me.

  Who was that and how did they know my name?

  8

  Abigail

  My phone flew through the air as I landed on a seaweed strewn rock and my hands went out to break my fall. I yelped in pain as the cloth of my jeans barely cushioned my knee from the impact and my hands burned as sand grazed them.

  “Sorry, let me help you up.” A deep voice above me drew my attention to a man standing over me. I couldn’t see him, he was standing in the light, but I held my
hand up to him anyway. There was something familiar about his voice.

  He helped me to my feet and I stood on one leg as I started my damage check.

  “I think I’ve hurt my knee. Did you see where my phone went?” I stood up all the way and put some weight on my leg as he searched for my phone.

  Not too bad, a twinge of burning pain, but nothing major.

  “It’s here.” He brought it to me as I walked towards him. My knee ached as I walked and I was certain it was bleeding, but I was alright otherwise. At least I wouldn’t have to limp out of here.

  I wiped my hands gently against my bottom and took the phone from the stranger. The light had gone off. It came back on when I went through the apps again, and filled the cave with light.

  “Hi,” the man said with a gorgeous, white smile as the light came on. Straight, white teeth in a suntanned face that was one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen. “Sorry if I startled you. I saw you come in and thought I should warn you. This cave goes on for miles and the tide is coming in. You’d have been trapped down here if you stayed much longer.”

  Tall, very tall, he had dark hair and golden brown eyes that made my knees go wobbly from more than an injury. I stared up at him, lost for words as I stared at the chiseled planes of his cheekbones and the full lips below them. Everything about his features was just right, suitable, perfect. And he was English too!

  “Hi.” I finally said in a breathless way after staring at him for what I was certain was long enough to convince him I wasn’t all there.

  “Can I help you get back to your house? I think you might have been expecting me.” He gave me that smile again, the one that said I had his full attention.

  “Oh? Are you the caretaker?” I couldn’t think of anyone else I might be waiting to meet as he looked down at me with eyes that were suddenly hungry and far more interesting.

  His nostrils flared and I took a step closer, mesmerized by the man that obviously took very good care of himself, if the muscles beneath that off-white cable-knit sweater were anything to go by. It wasn’t just that he was handsome though, that wasn’t all that drew me. Something about the way he smelled, about him drew me now that I wasn’t tripping over myself or recovering my composure.

  I felt safe with him so close. I felt like I was...home at last. Who was this man?

  “No, I’m not the caretaker, Abigail.” His face hadn’t changed; he was still just as hungry for me as I was insanely hungry for him.

  Wait, my brain suddenly screamed in alarm. Who is this guy, and how does he know my name? My eyes went round as I took a step back, my senses suddenly wary, on alert.

  “You aren’t? Then who are you?” A thought hit me and I felt my stomach heave. “Oh God. Wait. No, you can’t be. You aren’t old enough to be my father.”

  I felt icky now, so totally icky. Ew, ew, ew, I’d been on the verge of having fantasies about someone that could by my, no, don’t think about it, don’t!

  “No, Abigail, but you’d be surprised about my age, I’m sure. I’m not your father. I’m Wruin Hayder, and it is my pleasure to meet you.” He held his hand out to me and I felt relief wash my nausea away.

  This was the mystery man my mother wanted me to meet. But, surely he wasn’t old enough to be the one she meant either? Mom had been in her 40s, this man might be 30, if he pushed it. Might be. Another thought struck me as he led me out of the cave, he’d said his name as though he was saying ruinator, not Wruin Hayder. Was he the bringer of destruction then?

  I laughed at my own joke, and followed him out. If he was the man my Mom wanted me to find, I was obviously in good hands. Besides, he smelled so damned good! I wasn’t limping but I wasn’t able to run at the moment either so he walked beside me slowly as we made our way out of the cave, close enough that his scent filled my head with all kinds of naughty thoughts. Time to change the subject.

  “How did you know who I was?” I asked as we came into the light. I put my hand over my eyes and stopped on the beach, looking at him.

  “You’re American and your mother fled to America. I...heard of her passing. I was so very sorry to hear about that. She was quite a special friend to me when she was a child.” His sadness stopped me from asking how it was possible he’d known my mother as a child. She must have been quite a bit older than him. She’d obviously meant something to him, though, so I kept the question for later.

  “It only makes sense that you’d come here now, really.” He followed along with me when I started back up the path to the house.

  “Do you know my father? Do you know why she was so afraid of him? He must have been very terrible to her for her to run away like that.” I was curious to find out what he knew and a bit impatient. I’d waited for a long time now.

  “Your father is a very…,” he paused, obviously looking for the right word. “Powerful man, in many circles. He isn’t a very nice person, not at all.”

  I found myself drawing closer to his side as we walked, the smell of his cologne luring me to him. Warm spice, mingled with something that smelled cold, clean, and tempting. He smelled like a warm embrace on a cold winter’s day. I wanted to taste it.

  Pull yourself together, Abigail, I thought, and gave myself a mental slap. You seriously need to chill out, you’ve only just met this guy.

  Yeah, my inner voice said, now ride ‘em cowgirl!

  I felt my cheeks going red and hot as I tried not to look at him and moved away. He was not only the most attractive man I’ve ever seen; he drew every single part of me to him. He looked over at me as we made our way near the house, his eyes knowing but not laughing. He felt it too then, this odd draw.

  Awareness shot through me and my body began a slow, throbbing pulse as he moved towards me, his eyes, so warm, so mesmerizing, and focused on my lips. I felt them part as he drew near, and my brain emptied of all thought. I wanted to feel the pressure of his lips against mine, I wanted to feel his hard body against my softness, I wanted his wet tongue sliding over my lips as we danced against each other.

  “Abigail, I...” He started to say something but Holly suddenly opened the door and came barreling out of it.

  “The house has been broken into, Abigail, this was in there. How the fuck do you call 911 here?”

  Holly then started to scream, the pain in the sound drawing my attention immediately.

  She held her hand as if she’d been cut or burned; her eyes stared down at the massive sword she’d dropped.

  “It burned me!” She cried out, holding her hand out to me.

  “It can’t have, Holly!” I ran to her, my hands reaching for the one she held out. There, in her palm, was the same insignia that was on the hilt of the sword, only in reverse.

  A long sword, the hilt and pommel were decorated in gold. It wasn’t the rudimentary kind of sword one would expect from an old piece, but a highly decorated, intricately made work of art. The artwork was a dragon design, the long, almost snakelike body wrapped around that of a human woman.

  “Let’s get you inside.” I said, picking up the sword and leading the way into the house, Holly already heading into the bathroom to look for a first aid kit or some kind of cream.

  “Abigail. We have to go. The sword, it’s...it’s from your father.” He stared at the sword as if it would come to life and attack him.

  “I don’t care if King Arthur himself came down and dropped this thing in my living room, Holly is hurt.” I waved the sword around in one hand as if it was little more than a steak knife.

  His eyes followed my movements, and his face turned grim. “Fine, but then, we really should go.”

  I took a very puzzled looking Holly to the bathroom and found a first aid kit under the sink. I slathered her palm in burn cream and then wrapped it in a bandage.

  “How did this happen, Holly? It’s not hot at all.” The burn was deep but it didn’t need medical attention.

  I looked up at her and her pretty little elfin face scrunched up in thought.

  �
�I don’t know, I picked it up when I saw you walking back, and ran outside. By the time I got to the door it was warm, when I got out of the door it was like it was about to melt I was so hot!” She stared at the sword I’d placed in the bathtub and shook her head. “I don’t get it.”

  “It’s the sword of the key. The sword of the one that will open the doors to Tirfothwin.” Wruin spoke from his place in the doorway, and I saw he had leaned against the door jamb casually as he watched me.

  “The key to what-so-thwin?” I stared at him, puzzled.

  “Tirfothwin, the land under the waves. I think it’s called Doggerland in this time.” He swept a hand in the direction of the Channel outside.

  “Doggerland? Is that a special amusement park for those people that go hang out to have sex with strangers in cars?” I was putting the supplies away and not really paying attention.

  “What are you talking about, Abigail?” Holly asked as she stood up from her seat on the toilet and stared at me with worry clouding her face.

  “Wruin says it’s the sword of the key. That it opens a door to some kind of sexed up amusement park.” I waved a hand at the sword as we walked out, Wruin now walking ahead of us.

  “Who’s Wruin? The man your Mom wanted you to find? Where is he?” She asked, her face even more puzzled.

  “Wruin...” I whispered and did more hand waving in his direction. “The hottie in front of us.”

  Holly stopped suddenly and looked at me like I had lost it at last.

  “What hottie?” She whispered back, close to my head as she looked in the general direction of my hand wave.

  “Wruin, he’s right there!” I pointed at him, standing in the light now at the window seat.

  “Abigail, there’s nobody there!” Holly stared at me, her face a mask of troubled worry.

  “But he’s, he’s right there...”

 

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