“Wynter, stop. Stop this madness.” He grasped my wrists, holding me at bay.
My stomach flipped with nausea, and my fingers and toes began to tingle. They were here. The Silver Riders were here, and there was nothing I could do. Too late. It was too late.
My insides twisted, and my heart felt too big. “I love you, Finn. I love you with all my heart.”
“Wynter, I—”
Pressure built in my head as Finn’s face froze in an expression of confused concern. No, no, no. Around us, the world grew still and static, an effect of their arrival. The silver brand on Finn’s forehead flared brighter and brighter until there was nothing else but the light, and even though I knew it was futile, even though I knew there was no way to stop this, I had to try.
Lethargy tried to grasp my limbs, tried to hold me immobile as the sound of hooves drew near and every hair on my body stood to attention. No. Not my Finn. The shadows around us darkened, cocooning us in a halo of light emitted by the silver brand. It was a beacon to them, and there was nothing I could do to squash it.
Two riders burst through the wall and reared up on their monstrous crimson-eyed steeds. Their bodies were draped in shadow and smoke, and their faceless silver visages were horrifically bland and inhuman. The mounts beat the floorboards with their thick hooves and shook their ratty manes, baring razor-sharp teeth, impatient to be on their way with their prize, while the riders shifted and pulsed in their seats, waiting for some silent command. And then, as if on cue, talons reached for Finn, aiming for his soul.
“No!” My paralysis broke and my hand holding the chain lashed out. Metal clashed with shadow, and the beast mount I’d attacked screamed. Its nostrils emitted streams of crimson smoke to communicate its rage.
The riders turned their heads to face me as one, and my blood frosted in my veins. Frozen, I was literally frozen. But the tears that poured down my cheeks were far from cold. They seared me accusingly as the riders turned their attention back to my brother. Useless, they said. Pointless, they taunted. What’s the use of knowing? Why see when all you can do is watch? And as the sobs remained trapped in my throat, the light grew brighter, brighter, until there was nothing but darkness.
“Wynter. Oh, Wynter love.” Pat’s soft hands caressed my face.
“No.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “No.”
“It’s over, pet. It’s dawn.”
The carpet was rough against my cheek. My body stiff from lying in a contorted position all night. A choked sob broke the cage of my lips. “He’s gone.”
“Yes, pet. He’s gone.”
Pain in my chest, sharp and twisting and … “Pat … I can’t lose him.”
She pulled me into her arms. “You won’t lose him. He’ll be in your heart forever. His name won’t be forgotten, not by us.” She released her grip and tugged a leather-bound notebook from her pocket. “We’ll add his name to the book.” She flipped it open, revealing page after page of neatly written names, ages, descriptions. All the people that had gone before. All the people that had been forgotten.
I pushed her away and scrambled to my feet. “No. He’s all I’ve got. There has to be something I can do.”
“I’m sorry, pet. We right cocked up bargaining with the likes of them. But the Silver Mark is unbreakable. It’s their choice, their claim. Small mercy is he didn’t see it coming.”
“But what will they do to him?”
“I don’t know, pet. But I can’t imagine it will be anything good.” She pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry, pet. I’m getting inconsiderate in my old age. But I know how you feel. I remember only too well what it’s like to lose a loved one to them, and don’t you think I wanted to turn the tide? But you can’t fight them, love. Our curse is to know. Our curse is to remember.”
I sat down on Finn’s bed with a flumpmf. The room had been sparse before, but there’d been traces of Finn. His clothes in the dresser, his favorite book on his nightstand, and his slippers by his bed. But they were gone. I didn’t need to open the drawers to know they’d be empty, or that his toothbrush would be gone from the washroom. I didn’t need to leave the house to find out that the world would have forgotten he’d ever existed, because this was the price. The price for peace and survival.
I buried my head in my hands, heat gathering behind my eyes. Why did I have to see? Why did I have to know? There were only a handful of us who could see the truth. I’d only discovered there were others like me when I’d been eight and seen the mark on Pat’s husband’s forehead. I’d remarked on it and she’d known. She’d taken me under her wing—a surrogate mother. I suppose I’d been a distraction after her husband was taken. But according to Pat, the townsfolk had agreed to this almost a century ago—to this tithe and the subsequent forgetting. We’d agreed so that we would live, so that the inhabitants of the chasm would leave us be. But now it was my turn. Now they’d taken Finn and it was no longer okay. It was no longer tolerable.
My gaze fell to the chains coiled like metal snakes on the ground. Chains I’d been holding when they’d come for Finn. Chains I’d attacked them with.
“Pat?”
“Yes, pet?”
“I saw them, you know. I saw them properly this time.”
Her hand went to her mouth and hovered there.
“I broke free of the paralysis, and I lashed out with those chains.”
Pat sat up straighter on the floor. “You did?”
“Yes. And I think … I think I may have hurt them.”
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “No. Na-uh. Now you listen to me, Wynter. A lucky hit means nothing. Those things are lethal.”
“No. They could have killed me last night, but they didn’t. They looked right at me, but they didn’t hurt me. Maybe they can’t. Maybe they’re just … I don’t know, fetchers, like dogs fetching a stick.”
“A branded stick …” Pat rubbed her chin.
She was considering the possibility that the riders might not be invincible. That maybe there was a way to affect them. It was all I could think about. All that was dominating my mind right now. There was no room for fear, no time for second-guessing.
“Finn is all I have left. I’m not giving up on him. I’m going to get him back.”
The words fell like rocks into the silent room, but they were a weight off my chest.
“Wynter, pet … don’t. Don’t say it.”
But I had to. There was no other choice. There was no pretending for me. I gathered the chains into my lap. “Pat, I’m going into the chasm.”
Chapter Three
Backpack packed with basic provisions and herbs, I headed out the door less than an hour later only to bump into the last person I wanted to see.
Jeremy stood at my gate, a bright smile on his face, a white plaster taped across the top of his nose and two slightly black eyes courtesy of yours truly.
“No.” I made to shove past him. “Not now. Not today.”
“Come now, Wynter, is that any way to speak to a friend,” he drawled.
“A friend? Are you insane?”
He sighed. “Okay, maybe I’ve been a little lax with keeping in touch, but I think of you living alone with your father with his failing health and I can’t help but want to help. I want to lift you up. I want to marry you, Wynter.”
He hadn’t mentioned Finn, of course he hadn’t. But there was something in his eye, a knowing, smug gleam that set alarm bells ringing, and the words fell from my lips on instinct.
“What about Finn?”
He blanched and blinked rapidly. The hairs on the nape of my neck tingled.
“Finn?” His tone had gone up an octave. “Is that a … a pet?”
He knew. He crudding knew the truth. I lifted my chin and stared him straight in the eye. “You see, don’t you. You see the riders.”
His throat bobbed, and for a moment I thought he’d deny it, but then his expression hardened.
“Of course, I fucking see. My family were born to see.�
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His words were like a slap in the face. I flinched and took a step back.
His lip curled in derision. “None of you would be here without us; this town would have been reaped over fifty years ago if my great-grandfather hadn’t been wily enough to trap them into a treaty.” He sniffed in derision. “This town owes us. It owes me.” He grabbed my elbow. “And now that your oaf of a brother is gone, we can finally get back on track. I get to claim what I’m owed. The woman I want.”
How much did he know? “The mark? Did you know Finn would be marked?”
That surprised blink again, a slight tightening around his mouth.
“You know about the mark. You know how we’re chosen.” The realization was a rock settling in my stomach.
His lips curled in a smug smile. “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t.”
I curled my uninjured hand into a fist, resisting the urge to lash out at him. “Tell me.”
His gaze narrowed as he assessed the situation, and I could almost see his mind whirring, and then his grip on my arm tightened painfully.
“You want to know how they choose us?” He leaned in, his breath warm on my chilled cheeks. “They don’t. We do. My family. My bloodline. We pick the names, and we put them to the flame and then they come. They come, and they reap.”
Blood rushed in my ears, and the world tilted on its axis. “You … You did this. You marked Finn.”
“And if you don’t do as I say, you’ll be next, Wynter. I’ll mark you, and they’ll take you too.”
If he expected me to cower, he was disappointed. “Why? Why do they want us?”
He frowned, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “I don’t know.” His tone was sincere; he was telling the truth. “And I don’t care. All I know is that we’ve kept this town alive. We stopped them from invading, from killing us all. It was a small price to pay.”
“And for what? So we could all exist in this elaborate prison?” I jerked my arm from his grasp. “I’d rather be dead than living this lie.”
The chains around my right wrist clinked.
Jeremy’s gaze widened. “What is that? What are you doing?” He noticed my backpack for the first time, and there was real concern on his haughty features now. “Wynter, what are you planning?”
I slipped past him and into the road. “I’m getting him back, Jeremy. I’m getting him back, or I’ll die trying.”
I turned and ran even though I knew in my heart he wouldn’t follow. Men like Jeremy were cowards.
The walk to the woods that hid the chasm from town eyes was almost pleasant. The Silver Riders brought with them a shift in season, and here and there, in patches of melted snow, the first green shoots of spring were visible. The town was still sleeping as I strode down the road that led to our hidden, silent enemy—the one that struck in the dark and stole our memories of each attack.
The woods came into view, and I faltered, ducking to the side of the road amidst the brush and hedgerow. Was it strange that a forest cut across a main road? Yes. But this was no ordinary wood. This was the entrance to crazy.
The snow-capped trees had shaken off some of their white burden and their evergreen leaves reached for the sun. There’d be a couple of guards, of course, stationed to prevent townsfolk from wandering into the woods. Just a precaution, because if someone was foolish enough to do so, then they were on their own.
There had been a time when there’d been several guards to turn away curious children or teens trying to look brave by venturing in on a dare, but as the years had gone by, as the chasm faded into the deepest recesses of people’s consciousness, the guards were no longer necessary. It was rare for anyone to venture this far and unheard of for anyone to step into the woods.
Today was a flag day.
Today, I’d be breaking all the rules.
Tightening the strap on my backpack, I studied the tree line for the guards, looking for the flash of blue that was their uniform. Not knowing what to expect, I’d packed light: bread, water, and some sunflower seeds for energy. Using bolt cutters, I’d trimmed the chain I’d attacked the riders with and wrapped it around my wrist. It was my only weapon against what waited for me below. Hindsight was a rough mistress, and all the other possible weapons I could have brought with me flashed through my mind: a hammer, a knife, a cleaver. But the chain had affected the riders—it had hurt them, I was sure of it—and so it was my defense of choice.
No movement, not even a rustle. No birdsong, no sign of life. The woods had been abandoned by wildlife, frightened off by the anomaly that lay beyond, and it seemed as if the guards may have been warned off too.
This was it. Finn was down there somewhere. A tremor passed through me—self-preservation digging in its heels—and for a moment my feet were rooted to the spot.
My hand still wrapped in Finn’s handkerchief reminded me of what I’d lose if my will faltered now. I took a deep breath and then broke into a sprint.
I hit the tree line just as a bellow rose up behind me.
Guards after all. Sneaky bastards.
No. Couldn’t get caught now. Had to make it to the chasm. Breath fogging the air and misting my face, I ran, weaving through the trees, heading north, leaping over branches and roots, legs pumping. Ha, I was running, but not away from danger; I was running right into its arms. A crazy cackle rose up my throat, but I swallowed it, not wanting to taint the strange silence that pressed in on me.
The woods grew thicker, denser. Wait? Shouldn’t they be getting sparser toward the breach? My pace slowed, and I came to a halt. No frost. No chill. The air here was warm and slightly humid, and the world around me seemed suspended in amber. My steps were muted, as if the ground was greedily gobbling up the sound. And then there were no more trees. There was only a gaping darkness that extended as far as my eyes could see. The world beyond was a fable, a myth.
Had it ever really existed?
My pocket shifted, and Roxy poked her head out to sniff the moist air.
“Shit. Roxy, you can’t be here.” My voice was a hushed whisper.
I lifted her out of my pocket with trembling fingers. Her body heat seeped into my hand, steadying it as I held her up to eye level.
“Roxy … I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t even know what I’m doing. You shouldn’t be here.” I glanced ahead at the chasm waiting for me, and a horrific thought rose up in my mind. “Oh, crud. How am I going to get down there?”
Roxy ran up my arm and scampered down my body. It seemed she had the right idea. To get the heck out of here.
“That’s right, girl. Head home.”
But she wasn’t headed home. She was rushing toward the chasm.
“Rox! No.” I ran after her. “Not that way.”
She turned so she was parallel to the chasm and kept running. Shit. What the heck was she playing at? She came to a standstill, sitting up and looking at me expectantly as I approached. Slow now. Careful, so as not to spook her, because she was right on the edge. Oh, God. The air here was different. Thick and cloying and unnatural to my lungs.
Roxy cocked her head, waiting and watching me with her beady eyes.
My feet took me to the edge of the chasm, where I lowered myself carefully into a crouch and held out my hand.
“Roxy, come on, girl.”
My voice was gentle and coaxing even while my pulse thudded painfully in my throat. It was crazy, yes. She was, after all, just a mouse. But she was family.
“Please, Roxy. Just come here.” I hated the tremble in my voice.
She edged closer to the breach and sniffed the ground, and I resisted the urge to lunge for her, afraid I’d startle her over the edge.
“Roxy …”
She turned away from the breach and hopped onto my hand.
I blew out the breath I’d been holding and hugged her close. “You have a death wish; you know that?”
The knot in my chest loosened as I deposited her back into my pocket. Now to figure out a way to get down—Oh.
>
Black metal peeked up out of the chasm just where Roxy had been sniffing a moment ago. I shuffled forward and peered down. How the … A ladder. An actual ladder. It clung to the wall and descended into inky blackness and Roxy had found it. It sounded crazy—of course she hadn’t found it, it had to be a coincidence, right? Either way, it was my only way down.
I gnawed on my bottom lip because once I did this, there was no going back. But then going back without Finn was not an option. Not really.
Making sure my backpack was on securely, I swung myself onto the ladder and into the breach.
Darkness above and darkness below. How long had I been descending? My legs and arms ached, and fear was a living thing wrapping itself around my lungs and squeezing periodically. What if this was it? An eternal descent. What if there was no end?
Still time to head back up? At least I knew there was an up. What if there was no down? But the Silver Riders had come from here. They’d come, and they’d taken Finn, so there had to be an end. A bottom. Something.
My feet continued to move, finding each rung on instinct as I climbed blindly through the darkness. Each tread was an effort, the risk of missing, of slipping. This was futile, this was a mistake …
The hair at my crown shifted, moved by a breeze. I froze, gripping the rail tight. There hadn’t been a breeze for the past fifteen minutes or so. My limbs were suddenly flooded with a fresh wave of purpose, and I sped up my descent. Almost there, I had to be almost there. The world was shifting from black to gray. Yes. Light. That meant light. Slowly, painfully, my night vision kicked into gear so the ladder I was holding onto became visible, followed by the rock face it clung to. Another gust of cool air ran its fingers through my hair, teasing my scalp.
Down, down, down.
And then there was silver light. Moonlight. Starlight. A night sky. How was this possible? How was I suspended amidst the stars themselves?
Down, down, down.
Roxy poked her head out of my pocket.
“Careful, girl.”
Captive of Darkness (Heart of Darkness Book 1) Page 3