Rising Dark (The Darkling Trilogy, Book 2)

by A. D. Koboah

  When he was first confined to his bed, he used to occupy his time thinking of Luna, among other children on the plantation, and the vile things he had done to them. But then every time his mind brought up those sickening memories he still received pleasure from, his broken body had been wracked with pain as if a vice of flames had been embedded in his flesh. Then Mama Akosua began inhabiting his dreams, making sleep a hell from which he could not wake. She inhabited his dreams less and less now. But sleep still evaded him and he spent night after night awake and staring at the ceiling, unable to relive those moments with those young children, which had been his only reason for living.

  I moved away from his window, admiring the witch’s power and how well she had avenged her daughter. But John Holbert was another matter entirely, and I would not rest until he was dead. The spell the witch had placed around the mansion was powerful, but provided no real protection as it did not extend to the minds of its inhabitants. But there was a reason why she was trying to protect them, and since Luna’s wellbeing was always behind everything she did, I did not wake John Holbert and try to lure him out of the mansion.

  But I remained outside the mansion, delving into his diseased mind, looking for weaknesses which I could use to punish him for the things he had done to Luna. That was when another much stronger mind called to me through the dark.

  I had felt her presence lurking on the edges of my consciousness for days, her words always the same. Bring her back to me. Bring my child back to me.

  I walked away and made my way to the Marshall plantation.

  She sat at the table in her cabin and had not slept very much since Luna and I disappeared. I felt a twinge of guilt but then remembered how Luna had been soothed merely by the expression on my face, and how radiant she looked in her new clothes. Clothes which were fitting much snugger than they had a few days ago now she was well fed and rested. I showed all this to the witch along with the zeal with which Luna took to my lessons every evening and just how quickly she was learning to read.

  I would do everything again if I had to. I spoke into the witch’s mind. Let her go and I will give you your freedom.

  She scoffed. You think you can change your dark heart the way you have changed your clothes? You have the soul of a demon and the heart of a man. A white man. I see you with her in that house and I know you lust after her, the same way every white man that has ever seen her has lusted after her, even when she was only a child. And just like them, you will give into your base nature and let the lust you have for her body, and her blood, overcome you.

  Never.

  She laughed. Poor creature. You think you love her. She spat out the word love. Her laughter rang through my mind, again bringing my anger to the surface. Luna will never love you, she concluded.

  Her words ripped a large, bleeding hole in the contentment I had allowed myself to feel, for I knew all too well the truth in them.

  I do not need her to love me. She will stay with me and there is nothing you can do about it.

  I plucked one of her memories from her mind, one which she had tried, and failed, to keep hidden from me, and threw it back at her in spite. It was of an event that had occurred the night Luna agreed to stay at the mansion with me. It had terrified her mother for it was something that had never happened to her before, and which was unheard of in the supernatural world she dipped into from time to time.

  The night had almost drawn to a close and the witch was sitting outside her cabin in the dark, a small wooden bowl before her. She was weak and dawn would be here soon, so she had to hurry and perform the ritual to conjure help from the spirit realm.

  She performed the usual incantations and made a deep cut in the palm of her hand, letting the blood drip into the bowl. She dropped a lit rag into the bowl and its contents burst into lilac flames. She held her hand over the flames and the cut healed as the lilac flames were snuffed out. The air was thick around her now. They had heard her and were beginning to break through to our world in response to her call and her dark cry of desperation.

  Abruptly, the air around her contracted sharply, sucking the air out of her lungs. The bowl was knocked over, spilling its murky contents. She was on her feet immediately as the spirits receded. They were gone but something else hung in the air around her. She listened intently, assuming the demon had come back, but the area around her was tense and frigid with expectation and she could not sense the demon’s presence in the powerful energy around her.

  Then she felt something brush her face. But there was nothing there. And then she heard it.

  Gyae, gyae.

  She heard the words clearly, words spoken in her mother tongue, which few recognised and even fewer spoke.

  ‘Stop,’ it meant. ‘Stop.’

  A powerful breeze erupted, sweeping through the trees toward her, knocking her back a few paces.

  Gyae, gyae, it insisted.

  Bewilderment replaced the anger and rage and she stared around her in confusion. And then a flower fell to her feet. She looked up, and for a moment, the night sky was blotted out by white flowers which had materialised out of nothing, the sweet scent completely overwhelming her senses as the first light of dawn broke over the trees.

  Gyae, it said, much softer now. Gyae.

  Then it was gone.

  She stared down at the carpet of flowers at her feet, knelt and picked one up. They slowly began to fade away before her eyes like melting snowflakes. Only the one in her hand remained. Days later, it was still impossibly there in her cabin as white and crisp as the night it fell out of the sky.

  To add to the mystery, she had tried the ritual again, one she had performed many times in the past when she needed information and help from the netherworld, but nothing had happened. There hadn’t been a repeat of the phenomenon with the flowers, but, for whatever reason, something was blocking her from summoning supernatural help.

  There was something else that had been hidden from me when I chased that memory, something disquieting she had realised about the entity that blocked her efforts. But the truth behind whatever it was that had blocked her was something she didn’t even want to admit to herself, and so it was hidden from me.

  Whatever her disquiet, the unusual event bode well for me and I was relieved when I left the plantation, leaving quickly after throwing my discovery at her.

  But Mama was not one to taunt. She may not have been able to use her spirits to locate Luna and myself, but she had no intention of leaving me alone.

  ***

  I was sitting in the drawing room with Luna. She had been pouring over some lessons I set for her when she abruptly faced me. She was wearing an exceptionally beautiful cornflower blue dress, one of many I’d had made for her, although I don’t recall any of them having such a low cleavage. It was so low I could be sure I saw the dark shadow of her areolae peeping over the top of the fabric and it was an effort not to gaze at her cleavage.

  “Does you think I’s pretty, Avery?” she asked innocently.

  “Of course, of course,” I answered with much enthusiasm.

  “Then show it.”

  She was before me in an instant, gazing defiantly up at me, the chest I had been trying to avoid looking at thrust forward.

  “Luna, I...”

  She grasped me by the side of the head and kissed me. I kissed her fiercely before she abruptly pushed me away. The coquettish expression had disappeared and I was looking at a face full of wrath.

  “Luna?” I said in confusion, my desire drying up.

  I didn’t see the knife until she plunged it into my chest.

  I screamed, the pain in my chest radiating out to every inch of me as Luna looked on, a triumphant smile on her lips.

  I woke up with a start. It was silent in my daily grave, but I could still feel the pain in my chest and I was stunned at such a lucid dream. And then I heard laughter in my mind, a soft faint chuckle that could only belong to one woman. Mama Akosua.

  She was gone moments later, l
eaving me angry and embarrassed at the dream, which she had no doubt seen. I did not sleep for the rest of the day. Sleep had been difficult with Luna nearby and her face was always so clear in my mind. But it was worse now and I stayed awake lest I have more dreams which the witch would no doubt see and use to taunt me.

  That evening, I kept an even greater distance than usual from Luna, ashamed of myself for having impure thoughts of such a gracious, kind and generous woman, especially since she was beginning to trust me.

  The dream was especially painful because I knew it would never become a reality. As I observed her thoughts, my pain increased, for the one man, the one who had a hope of capturing her heart, was in her thoughts regularly. Jupiter.

  Often she would be staring at me, admiring something, maybe my eyes or mouth, and then she would come to an abrupt halt and consternation would cloud her thoughts. As if seeking safety from her errant musings, her thoughts would automatically turn to Jupiter and he would intrude on our little world like a dark giant, in all his gentle, quiet beauty. I would often jump out of my seat as if burned and move to the shadows lest she see the emotion that had been stirred, the hatred and spiteful twist of jealousy whenever I saw him. It was undeserved, for he was a good, kind man. But it was there all the same. It was there.

  I turned to Luna again and saw she had gone back to the work I had set her. Feeling my gaze on her, she looked up. A soft smile touched her lips before she dipped her head back down. The smile slowly melted away as she concentrated on the task before her. The dark cloud her recollection of Jupiter had produced lifted. No matter what she thought of him, she was here with me. Watching her lit in the half-moon glow of the candlelight, her mahogany skin shimmering in its gentle light, she appeared otherworldly. It wasn’t that she was bathed in light, she was the light in my world. She may never be mine completely, or in any way, but she was here with me and I could hope and dream that one day, she could come to have some sort of regard for me.

  So I went to ground that morning somewhat reassured. She was here with me and the witch could not take her away. I fell into a restless sleep, where another unwanted dream closed in on me.

  This time Luna was completely naked. I stared at her in awe as she walked toward me. The control I exerted over my desire for her was not only torn away from me, my desire was intensified, and I felt myself harden. I tried to resist, but I had no control over my actions and I reached for her and kissed her, losing myself completely in her soft lips as she pushed me onto the sofa, straddling me. Again, she pulled abruptly away, but it was no longer Luna before me but Mama Akosua, fully dressed, her face a mask of hatred.

  “You,” I gasped, realising this was not a real dream and that she had been behind this one and the other.

  This time it wasn’t a knife that was in her hand, but an axe. She brought it down on the centre of my head.

  I awoke, again feeling the pain from the wound inflicted in the dream. The sound of her laughter filled my mind. To make matters worse, the desire I felt in the dream was still upon me and a huge erection added to my discomfort and embarrassment. The witch caught this from my thoughts and her mirth increased until she was howling with laughter.

  Seething with anger, I stayed silent until her heartless laughter faded away.

  I stayed awake again that day, afraid to sleep in case the witch played another little trick as I slept.

  Luna’s presence that evening, along with her clear and sweet joy at learning to read, soothed my wounded pride at Mama Akosua’s cruel trick.

  But I was still angry when I left Luna in the early hours of the morning, and after my nightly kill, I returned to the Marshall plantation meaning to remonstrate with the witch for using my desire for her daughter, desire I took great care to never reveal to Luna, to taunt me.

  I got to the Marshall plantation to hear an odd, deep rumbling sound coming from her cabin. Then I realised what those sounds were. They were the witch’s snores. She had fallen asleep at the table she used to prepare her herbs and potions. I stood in the trees near the slave quarters, undecided now, because I knew she had not slept much at all since I took Luna away and it was hard to ignore the fact that my actions, no matter how unintentional, were causing the witch harm and distress. Then I remembered the dream again and the merciless way in which she had used my lust to mock me.

  Two can play that game. Whenever she searched my mind, she unwittingly opened her mind to mine. I now knew of a few things she was fearful of—including a very unusual phobia no one knew of. So I entered her sleeping mind and created a dream of my own.

  In the dream, Mama was in her cabin washing herbs when she saw a hairball on the floor from the corner of her eye.

  A small sound of disgust escaped her. She reached for a broom and quickly swept it out of the cabin, shuddering as she returned the broom. But when she turned around, there were five more by the table. She jumped when the five inexplicably multiplied. A small cry escaped her lips when she looked around the cabin and saw hairballs everywhere. She backed away from them toward the door, but they were everywhere and multiplying at a ferocious speed until the floor was covered with a thick carpet of hair.

  She brought her hand to her mouth as a scream welled in her throat and escaped her lips.

  I woke her before the panic could begin to build. She was aware of my presence the moment her eyes flew open and she jumped up from the table and ran outside the cabin with a stream of threats and curses on her lips.

  I was away from the slave quarters long before she got to the door, but the stream of curses in my mind followed me all the way to the Holbert plantation.

  Suffice it to say, that is what gave me the idea of tormenting John Holbert. I stood outside his bedroom window that morning and created a very lucid dream. In the dream a hooded figure had pushed him into a coffin and began throwing dirt over him whilst he screamed and fought against it in vain. I kept him trapped in sleep and the dream, even when he began screaming out loud, waking up the other inhabitants of the mansion. It was only when one of the house slaves entered the room and began shaking him awake, that I released him from the dream.

  But he continued to scream, and I heard those screams and the slave’s attempts to calm him as I made my way off the plantation.

  That day Mama Akosua didn’t torment me with dreams of Luna, but I felt her with me all day, her rage and grief seemingly intensified by her silence. That wrathful silence had a much worse effect on me than those dreams and the laughter that had accompanied them.

  So that night I made my way back to the plantation after I left Luna. She was awake, as I expected, and I waited by the trees knowing she was aware of my presence. But there were no threats this time, only silence and anger.

  To you, my words are meaningless, I said after a while. But I will speak them anyway. I am sorry for what I did last night and for the pain you feel at Luna’s absence. Were it not for the genuine joy I see in her eyes every day, I would not hesitate to bring her back to you. That was a cruel trick you played, one that is beneath you as you know I would rather cut my hand off than touch her against her will. She is safe with me, you know this. So let us be. Let me take care of her and I will make your master give you your freedom.

  There was only her silence and I sensed that a creature like me addressing her in anyway, let alone speaking into her mind, was a great offense and she would never accept my offer to free her.

  Disheartened, I left the Marshall plantation and went to ground. In my lonely bed in the dirt, I lay there thinking of what to do about the witch and also wishing I had Luna in my arms. But that would only ever be a dream, so I fell asleep with her face in my mind, knowing that at least I would get to gaze upon that face come nightfall.

  Chapter 16

  The witch remained silent, but she was a devious and persistent foe and she would never give up on her daughter. She did not know where we were, but she was still able to communicate with Luna, and plant seeds of doubt in her mind about her d
ecision to stay at the mansion with me. So the next two nights saw Luna in a volatile mood, uneasy and argumentative.

  On the first night she quarrelled with me when she found out what had happened to the previous owner of the mansion.

  “How you expect me to stay in this here house when you done killed somebody in it!” she snapped, her eyes flashing, her mouth in a hard line.

  When I refused to take her back to Mississippi, she threatened to leave the mansion and, to my consternation, stalked out of the drawing room and into the night.

  I spent the next hour following her through the woods until she eventually relented and let me take her back to the mansion.

  When I returned on the second evening, I thought the dark cloud of her unease had passed. Instead it seemed to have intensified. But my patience had long worn thin by then, especially when she compared me to a slaveholder.

  “Do not call me that. I am not your Master,” I snapped, a hard ball of distress curling within at the insult.

  “Ain’t you?” she flung at me, a triumphant gleam in her eye. “You took me from everything I ever knowed and you won’t turn me loose. That what slaveholders be doing all over Mississippi!”

  “You...you should not tire my patience in this way, Luna. It is cruel. Besides, I am not a man. If I want to force you to do something, I need not beat you into doing it. I have only to think it and I can make you do and feel anything I wish.”

  “What you say?”

  Fury blazed in her eyes and she took a step toward me. I immediately backed away, nervous as always whenever she became angry. But this time I refused to be cowed into submission, and when she persisted in antagonising me, I took control of her mind, rendering her incapable of speech or of moving unless I willed it.