House of Fear and Freedom (The Wyrd Sequence Book 1)

by Kimberley J. Ward

It moved against the flow of the mist, making it churn around like storm clouds in its wake.

  With a yelp, Nessa sprang back, hopping off the table.

  “What the hell?”

  Nessa took a cautious step forward, leaning over the box and peering down. All appeared normal. The orb glowed softly, the mist moved slowly, and the shadow was absent. Nessa stared at it. Perhaps she had imagined it? Maybe it was just a trick of the light? But that wouldn’t account for the tremors she had felt, like something scraping against the surface, tapping at it.

  Deftly, she flipped the lid shut, hiding the orb from sight, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was spellbindingly beautiful, but in an unnatural way. Nessa was both instinctively drawn and repelled by it.

  Needing to clear her mind, to have a breath of fresh air, Nessa moved over to the window. She scaled up the stairs and perched on the narrow ledge, shoulder pressed against an iron bar. The scent of rain was carried on the wind, and black clouds rolled across the darkening sky, rapidly enveloping the city and smothering the sunset in a blanket of grimness.

  Night descended early as thick curtains of rain fell, falling heavily on the buildings below. The rumble of thunder sounded in the distance and the far horizon flashed with lightning. Drops of rain were blown through the window, hitting Nessa, slowly soaking into her jeans and shirt, making her shiver with cold. Still, she stayed there, watching as the rain fell harder, as the lightning grew ever closer.

  “A whole day,” Nessa murmured. “I’ve been gone for a whole day.” It had now been twenty four hours since she had been pulled through the mirror, since so much had happened. All Nessa knew was that she was still trapped there, an unwilling pawn in a madman’s game.

  Her stomach clenched, emitting a loud growl which rivalled that of the thunder, and she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Will they bring me food? Nessa wondered. Or am I to be starved until I agree to help him?

  The thought was a bleak one, and filled Nessa with unease. However, she didn’t let it trouble her too much. Her mind was made up. No matter how awful things got, no matter what he did, Nessa swore that she would never help him.

  From her perch, Nessa gazed down at the table, at the box. She wondered what was so important about the orb, what it was and what it did for Blondie to desire it so badly. What does it do? Nessa pondered as she stared at it, eyeing the purple light that shone through the gap where the lid hadn’t quite shut completely. Was it a weapon of some kind?

  Nessa didn’t know. She didn’t have the faintest bloody idea.

  A mighty boom of thunder made the wall tremble and lightning forked across the sky, shockingly bright, illuminating the world for a split second. The city was desolate, not a single soul daring enough to be out in such a storm. Rain fell in a deluge, flooding the narrow streets, turning them into streams that flowed into the river that was now a bloated monster that raged and churned through the middle of the city.

  The hour grew late and the storm continued, unrelenting. Nessa yawned and finally left her roost, cold, hungry and tired. The bed, though small and hard, was oddly inviting. Nessa settled down on the lumpy mattress and wrapped the blankets tightly around herself, curling into a ball to fight off the chill that had seeped into her bones. Her clothes were damp, sticking to her skin, but she refused to take them off, even if that would have warmed her. No, Nessa would rather be wet and cold than partially dressed.

  Nessa closed her eyes, wishing for a deep, dreamless sleep. Her wish went unanswered though, for sleep of any kind eluded her. The thunder made her jump every time it clapped overhead, and the lightning would spark through the narrow window, showing her cell in eerie light and weird angles.

  Worse yet was the scratching sound, which seemed to come from the other side of the room. Nessa thought that it belonged to either mice or rats, perhaps both, but every time she peered over in that direction, she could see nothing scurrying around in the gloom.

  Nessa groaned and once again rolled over, wiggling and trying to get comfortable. Something gnawed at the edge of her mind, an unformed thought that she couldn’t quite identify. Whatever it was made her toss and turn, unable to find any form of rest, even as the storm slowly rolled into the distance.

  Nessa sat up, glaring accusingly at the box. A thin sliver of light shone through the join of the lid, gleaming like starlight. Something about it, some kind of calling, saw to Nessa jumping out of the bed and going over to it, to the treasure nestled within. Her mind and body begged for sleep, but she had been unable to find it for hours. Nessa was sure that the source of her insomnia was in front of her.

  Perhaps it was her tired brain, or maybe something else, but Nessa found herself picking up the box and taking it over to the bed, where she then set it down on the floor next to it. She hastily laid back down on the mattress, tucking the blankets snugly around herself, hiding from the cold. She closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would now find her. Only it didn’t.

  Growling in frustration, eyes so heavy they would barely open, Nessa flipped back the box’s lid, revealing the orb. A gentle burst of warm air brushed against her face and the deep purple glow gently illuminated the dark corner where she lay.

  Nessa wiggled to the bed’s edge, where she could gaze down into the box and watch the mist swirl around in its many shifting shades of purple. It was hypnotic and soothing, and instantly she felt better, calmer. A sense of warmth, of companionship, settled over her. She didn’t feel quite so cold and alone. The distant rumble of thunder and the constant drumming of the rain suddenly didn’t bother her anymore.

  Nessa’s eyes drifted shut and her breathing deepened, and with the orb’s light warm on her face, she finally fell asleep

  ∞∞∞

  The morning was still and quiet, and grey light spilled through the window. Nessa woke slowly, her night of ill sleep making her sluggish. After a long doze, she sat up and rubbed her face, tired beyond belief, and spotted something on the table.

  Food.

  On a tray was a large bowl of stew, hot and steaming, accompanied by a couple of thick slices of bread, fresh and buttered. Nessa was enticed from the bed, from her small cocoon of warmth. She dashed to the table, to the food, paying no mind to the cold or to the other objects there.

  Nessa was ravenous and the food was soon devoured. Only then, when her stomach was happily full, did she take notice of the other things on the table; a couple of jugs and a pile of clothing that had a pair of black boots perched on top.

  One of the jugs was filled with clean, fresh water, and had a small tin cup sitting next to it. The other jug was larger, sat in a washbasin, and had a delicate whisper of steam rising out of it. Nessa took an inquisitive sniff and found that its contents were perfumed. The clothing was neatly folded, consisting of two tops, a pair of thick socks and some trousers.

  Nessa placed the boots on the floor and closely inspected the clothing. One of the tops was long-sleeved and a creamy brown colour, with three little buttons on the front. The other was a deep brown, sleeveless and fairly loose fitting. The trousers were simple and not unlike leggings.

  Nessa eyed the clothing thoughtfully. They weren’t her usual style or much to her taste, however, they were clean and would be considerably warmer. She looked down at herself, at her ripped and dirtied jeans, at her t-shirt that hadn’t fared much better, and made her decision. Being pulled into another world wasn’t good for one’s appearance.

  She undressed swiftly, keeping a watchful eye on the door, and using her old top as a flannel, she dunked it into the scented water and washed the worst of the grime from her skin. Shivering, Nessa hastily donned the long-sleeved top, then pulled the other one over it. The leggings were snug and she tucked them into the socks, then quickly wormed her feet into the boots, which were nearly knee-high with laces running up the front.

  Nessa looked at the widow, at the dreary morning light beyond, and at the sodden ledge. Without the barrier of glass, last night’s rain had blown through the wi
ndow, making its surroundings slippery and wet, and had created a puddle on the ground below. Deciding that she rather liked her new clothing to remain dry for the time being, Nessa milled around, doing laps around the room to keep warm.

  It was then that something rather odd caught her eye.

  There, on the floor, was a pile of sand.

  “What’s this?” Nessa mumbled, moving over to it.

  She knelt down and inspected it. In front of her, tucked up against the wall, was an accumulation of grit measuring a few inches in height. It was grey in colour and a mixture of coarse agate and fine powder. Nessa rolled a pinch of it between her fingers, puzzled at what could have caused such a bizarre build-up.

  Suspicious, Nessa gazed at the wall, her eyes running over it, searching. The grit matched the mortar. She quickly found, a couple of feet up the wall, that a small hole had been chiselled between two stones, unnoticeable unless specifically looked for.

  “How peculiar.”

  It was a rough little hole, fitted snugly into the mortar. Nessa leaned forward, peering through it, curious to see what was on the other side. It was a peephole of sorts, a crude spy-hole, and offered very little in the way of a view, merely showing a tiny section of the dingy space beyond. It lacked any substantial light, making it hard for Nessa to see, but she was sure that it was a room like hers, just a bit smaller.

  At first Nessa thought that it was empty, but then a dark shadow moved in front of the peephole, and a second later she found herself staring into a bright amber eye.

  With a startled shriek Nessa fell back, the memory of icy green eyes flashing in her mind.

  “Wait!” a muffled voice cried. “I only want to talk.”

  Nessa was half sprawled on the ground, heart racing from shock. She swore, picked herself up, and glared through the peephole.

  “Who are you?” Nessa demanded, dusting herself off, alarm swiftly turning to relief and a small measure of curiosity.

  “I’m a friend. I hope,” the owner of the amber eye said, blinking slowly, sounding somewhat desperate. “Who are you?”

  Nessa frowned. Whoever they were, they sounded youngish and faintly amused. ‘They’ were also a he. With mild annoyance, Nessa said, “I asked that first.”

  “So?”

  “So, since you’re the one who, I presume, chiselled a hole in the wall, which I must say is a rather odd thing to do, you can say who you are first.”

  Nessa heard a sigh.

  “Fine,” he said glumly. “Be unfun then. If you must know, I go by the name of Hunter, fine thief and traveller extraordinaire. Is that satisfactory?”

  “For the time being.”

  Hunter snorted. “And what, pray tell, shall I call you?”

  “Nessa.”

  “Nessa.” Hunter rolled her name on his tongue, testing it out. “Nice to meet you, Nessa.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Hunter, fine thief and traveller extraordinaire.” Nessa bit her cheek, a thought suddenly coming to her. Was this some kind of trick, a trap set by Blondie to get her to lower her guard? She didn’t know. The conversation stalled, neither of them seeming to know what to say next.

  “I… Umm…” Hunter said haltingly. “I’m sorry if I startled you.”

  Nessa gave a bark of laughter. “You scared the bloody daylights out of me.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” he argued. “I just... I don’t know... just wanted to know if anyone else was around. I spent a day chipping away at the other wall hoping for some titillating conversation, but the chap in the next room wasn’t particularly chatty, or very friendly, come to think of it. A shame really. I would have enjoyed a bit of male bonding. Anyway, I thought I would try again and found you, which I’m very happy about. Already I’ve found the banter between us very satisfactory.”

  “Fantastic,” Nessa said dryly, and something then dawned on her. A suspicion arose. The scraping sound last night must have been him, but all had been quiet that morning. The peephole had been completed by the time she had got up.

  “Did you watch me get dressed this morning?” Nessa asked.

  Hunter was slow to answer.

  “Of course not,” he eventually murmured.

  Nessa was less than impressed. “What do you want?”

  “Ahh,” Hunter sighed. “You do get right to the question at hand. And the answer to that question is freedom. I want freedom.”

  “You’re planning a breakout?” Nessa exclaimed.

  “Yes,” Hunter said proudly. “Yes, I am. And I may need some assistance.”

  “You’re mad.”

  “Perhaps, but not mad enough to stay here, rotting away in this dank place. I want a partner in my escape. Be my partner, Nessa, and I’ll take you with me. Unless, of course, you wish to stay here?”

  “No,” she spat. “I’d rather die than stay here much longer. Take me with you. I’ll help.”

  “Excellent,” Hunter said, and Nessa could hear the smile in his voice, and she thrummed with excitement, with hope. She would be free from there, from Blondie, finally able to seek a way back home.

  The thought made tears of joy spring to her eyes.

  Home.

  “What do I have to do?” Nessa asked.

  A dark chuckle filled the room.

  Nessa’s blood turned to ice and terror washed over her, making her movements slow as she turned to face the source.

  There, standing by the door, was Blondie, vibrating with anger and with his green eyes glinting with malice.

  So absorbed with talking to Hunter, Nessa hadn’t heard the door opening, hadn’t noticed him entering.

  Blondie swept towards her, his robe twirling around his ankles, his face filled with evil delight. He was upon Nessa before she could react, backhanding her once again.

  Nessa’s head snapped to the side and she slumped to the ground, vision blurred and jaw throbbing. Her scalp smarted as Blondie grabbed a handful of hair, yanking her up and forcing her to kneel awkwardly before him. Nessa yelped and clawed at his hand, digging her nails into his flesh. He snarled and shook her, pulling cruelly on her hair, almost ripping it from her scalp. She froze, still clutching at his fist, gouging deep bloody grooves into it.

  Blondie sighed, his lips set in a sinister smile. “Oh, Hunter, my dear foolish boy,” he purred. “Getting yourself into even more trouble, are we? It really is a shame that you keep bringing other people down with you. What was her name again, the pretty little raven haired girl?” His tone turned mocking. “Ah, I remember now. Kaya, wasn’t it? Poor little Kaya. Terrible business what happened to her. But, the law is the law, no matter how ugly it is.”

  Nessa heard a growl and the dull thud of a fist hitting stone. “Don’t you dare say her name!” Hunter shouted, his voice strangled by the peephole. “I’ll have blood for what was done to her. Do you hear me! I will have blood!”

  “The only blood being spilt around here will be yours,” Blondie snarled, his grip tightening on Nessa’s hair. He forced her head back, making her meet his gaze, which was filled with cunning appraisal. “I expected many things from you, Nessa, my dear girl, but not this. I don’t know whether to be disappointed or impressed.” He cocked his head to the side, white-blond hair brushing over the silver torc that rested elegantly around the base of his neck. “Maybe a little of both,” he mused. “I never thought you would have the guts to disobey me like this, to abet in an escape. Tell me, where would you have gone? There’s nowhere for you to run to, no one who would be able to hide you from me. And I’ll tell you this now: While I still draw breath, you will never go home. The mirror is sealed, closed to you forever. None other exists in this world.”

  His words were like shards of glass, slicing into Nessa with sharp, jagged edges.

  “Lies,” Nessa hissed, digging her nails harder into his flesh.

  Blondie ignored her, instead staring at the wall as if he could see through it. “You’re very quiet, Hunter. Cat caught your tongue? No matter, we’ll have our little c
hat later.” His eyes shifted to Nessa and turned flinty. “Now what to do with you?” he crooned, making her heart clench with dread as his smile grew, as his hand twisted in her hair.

  Nessa was abruptly shoved forward, her head striking the wall with terrible force. The world slowed and her body became heavy and numb. Her ears rang and her sight was filled with blinding light before motes of black began unfurling from around the edges, like the wings of a new butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, damp and velvety soft.

  With her senses deadened, Nessa barely perceived the grip on her hair loosening, of a short fall before hitting the ground. The absolution of unconsciousness washed over her, drowning away the, “I’m sorry,” that was whispered through the little hole in the wall.

  Then oblivion swallowed her whole.

  Something was poking Nessa unkindly in the cheek. It was an unwelcoming wakeup call. However, it was somewhat more pleasant than the onslaught of pain that followed. From the top of her head to the tips of her toes, everything ached horribly.

  Her temple hurt the worst, throbbing with each heartbeat, and her scalp felt as if someone had lit it on fire and left it to smoulder. A thick and unpleasantly sticky substance coated the side of her face, making it feel tight and itchy. Nessa tried to raise her hand to rub at it, but it wouldn’t heed her command, remaining limp somewhere by her side.

  Nessa forced her eyes open, something that made her headache a hundred times worse, and was greeted by darkness. A touch of panic crawled up her spine, fearing that she had gone blind. But ever so slowly, her eyes adjusted to the bleak dimness, and she thought that perhaps being blind might not have been so bad. At least then she would be ignorant to the unpleasantness around her.

  Confused and sore, Nessa found herself lying in an unfamiliar room. High above, thick wooden beams held up a conical roof, watery light trickling through gaps in the tiles. She turned her head, following the line of a weak ray, seeing that it hit a rounded wall, weathered and otherwise swathed in thick shadows.

  Nessa’s dazed eyes widened, and her situation harshly slapped her into action.