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

by Kimberley J. Ward

  That meant something to Nessa. That meant everything to her. So few people had come back for her in the past. She only hoped that Hunter’s loyalty wouldn’t bring down the barriers that had taken her months of heartbreak to build.

  The lantern produced very little in the way of heat, and did nearly nothing to drive away the bitter chill of the tunnel. It did offer a small ring of semi-protection from the darkness, which one person was grateful for, and that person wasn’t Nessa. Although it left her shivering from the cold, she lagged behind Hunter intentionally.

  To start with, the tunnel had been wide enough for both of them to walk side by side, but quite quickly it had started to narrow, forcing them into a single file. Soon after that, the ceiling had gradually curved down, giving them no choice but to crawl on their hands and knees. The floor descended steeply, puncturing deep into the hard earth, and a cold slime covered it in a slippery blanket. It seeped into their clothing, clinging to their skin. They were freezing, damp, and their escape was made incredibly unpleasant.

  With the appearance of the slime came the creepy crawlies. They clung to the tunnel’s sides and ceiling, things with ghostly white bodies and lots of long legs. Creatures Nessa would rather not see. They fled from the lantern’s light, scurrying away, and every now and again, much to Nessa’s horror, falling on her, tangling in her hair or landing on her back. Each time, she would shake herself like a wet dog, dislodging the critter and sending it flying. Nessa felt a grim sort of pleasure each time she heard the plop as the creature landed somewhere in the slime.

  However, after one of them, something small bodied but incredibly long legged, landed on her head and burrowed into her hair, Nessa lost her resolve of suffering in silence and promptly shrieked.

  She swatted at it, slime splashing all over her face, her hair. Hunter, surprised by the commotion, turned around, or at least tried to.

  Whacking his head on the tunnel’s wall, he cursed and peered awkwardly over his shoulder at her, the narrow confines of the tunnel preventing him from going to her aid.

  He had the nerve to ask, “How you doing back there?”

  Nessa growled at him, and with one last slap, the thing loosened from her hair and tumbled to the ground. Without looking down, she started forward, crawling over to Hunter, who eyed her curiously, taking in the goo oozing down her face and neck. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut, and continued leading the way.

  The tunnel curved to the side, and then, all of a sudden, opened up onto a large underground passage. It must have been the mine that Hunter had mentioned. He clambered out of the tunnel, slipping and sliding as he went, and then, finally free, placed the lantern on the ground. He offered Nessa a hand up, and she saw that it was covered up to the wrist in dark green slime, just as hers was. This, they quickly discovered, made it incredibly hard to grip one another’s hand, and rendered Hunter’s assistance of little use.

  After a fair deal of yanking, pulling, grappling and quite a bit of muttered swearing, Nessa was finally out of the horrible little tunnel. Her back and legs, after crawling for so long hunched over, protested against her standing, and retaliated by cramping. Nessa sighed and leaned back against the wall, stretching out her aching muscles, slowly relaxing.

  Hunter picked up the lantern and held it high. The ring of light showed ten or so feet of the mining shaft before melting into pitch black darkness that surrounded Nessa and Hunter on two sides. Walls of solid stone were smoothly cut, supported by thick wooden beams, as was the ceiling. The ground was even and the air was still and dead.

  Nessa looked over at Hunter, finding him staring into the gloom, his eyes sharp and a crease between his brows.

  “What do we do now?” Nessa asked him.

  “Move on, I guess.” Hunter’s answer was quiet, subdued even. His eyes were glued onto the darkness, unblinking. A shiver ran down Nessa’s spine. She cast a quick, nervous glance over to the spot that held his interest, but saw nothing there. Still, Hunter was beginning to make her uneasy.

  “Is everything alright?” Nessa whispered, laying a hand on his arm.

  Hunter stirred and looked down at her, the frown fading away.

  “It’s fine,” he said reassuringly. “Everything is fine.” It seemed like he said it more for his benefit than hers. He turned and began walking in the opposite direction, not once looking back. Nessa, more than a little perplexed, hurried after him, unable to resist a quick peek over her shoulder as she did so. She thought she spied movement, a flicker of something in the darkness, as indistinguishable as a shadow moving within a shadow, the blur of a bird’s wing in a blackened sky.

  Nessa paused, staring, but no further movement could be seen, and the darkness lay still and unwelcoming. She rushed after Hunter, who was further down the tunnel, not realising that she had stopped for a moment. Nessa was in a panic, wondering what that could have possibly been. Had it merely been a play of the light? The shadows dancing as Hunter had walked away with the lantern? Or was someone down there with them? Goose bumps rose on Nessa’s arms as a thought entered her mind. What kind of person would be down in an abandoned mine without a light?

  What if it wasn’t a person… what if… what if it was a monster?

  Nessa kept close to Hunter.

  They walked in silence, both of them deep in their own thoughts. Tension radiated from Hunter in waves and his eyes were deep and reflective. Nessa knew that if she were to ask him a question, it probably wouldn’t be heard or answered. She grew nervous and jittery, every slight noise making her flinch or jump.

  At times, water dripped from above, sounding eerily like footsteps when the droplets hit the ground.

  Eventually, Nessa and Hunter came across a crossroads, and standing in the middle, with the lantern held high between them, they peered at the other entrances. The light barely reached them, but after a slight pause, Hunter went over to the one on their left.

  The tunnel was near identical to the one they had just left, with thick wooden beams holding up the walls and ceiling, and with no hint of wind or fresh air. The only sounds Nessa could hear were their footsteps and the drips of water, which were steadily increasing in tempo. The only difference was the tunnel’s size, smaller and narrower, the sides pressing in on them, the ceiling almost brushing against the top of Hunter’s head. There was a feel of claustrophobia about it.

  Their surroundings were unchanging, and time was only measured by the steady drip...drip...drip of falling water droplets. With each step, Hunter grew tenser, his shoulder’s tightening, his hand drifting closer to the short sword tucked into his belt. Nessa was sure that someone was following them, but each time she had mustered enough courage to look over her shoulder, she saw nothing, no moving shadows or a hint of a light in the distance.

  Unable to endure the torture of silence any longer, Nessa turned to her ghost of a companion.

  “We’re being followed, aren’t we?” she murmured.

  Hunter nodded stiffly. “I’ve got a plan. Act natural. Don’t let them suspect we know.”

  Act natural? Nessa thought. What the hell is natural behaviour when you’re being followed by a creature in the darkness, encased by walls of solid stone?

  Hunter having a plan was of some comfort to Nessa, but not much. His stride lengthened, and he led Nessa down the tunnel at a swift pace with no attempt at stealth. Then, suddenly, he grabbed her hand and yanked her to the side, pulling her sharply down a narrow passageway that branched off. The walls were rough, jagged, and there was barely enough space for them as they rushed down it.

  A cavern opened up before them, small and rounded. The ceiling was low and smooth, the shape of an inverted bowl, giving the room a squat feel. Nessa quickly realised that there were no other exits.

  It was a dead end.

  Panicked, Nessa turned to Hunter, but he shushed her before she could voice her alarm. He pulled her over to the side and knelt, tugging her down with him. He let go of her hand and opened the lantern, quickly extinguish
ing the candle. The darkness swallowed them immediately, making them blind.

  Nessa shook, the fear nearly overwhelming. In the dark, Hunter’s hand found hers, holding it tightly. Unable to see, her other senses became heightened, and she could not help but be aware of his presence beside her.

  They remained there, crouched down for what felt like an eternity. Nessa’s breaths echoed in her ears and her body swam in adrenalin. She itched to run, to fight, to do something other than wait.

  Everything seemed to grow abnormally quiet as time went by.

  Just when Nessa began to think that they had been wrong, that no one was following them, she heard something that was out of place; the subtle crunch of stone, as if someone was treading light footed over the uneven floor.

  Hunter shifted and Nessa heard the steely slither of the sword as he pulled it free. She gripped his hand tighter, shivering as their stalker entered the cavern, their steps seeming overly loud in her ears. They appeared to have abandoned any attempted at a furtive approach and moved with bold strides. Dimly, in her growing panic, Nessa wondered if she should draw her dagger, but she feared making a noise.

  The footsteps came to a stop in the centre of the room. Hunter stiffened and slowly, carefully, rose from his crouch, tugging Nessa up with him. She tried not to make a sound, tried not to disturb the loose stones on the ground. She daren’t even breathe.

  It was all for nothing, though.

  After a loaded pause, their stalker moved, heading straight for them.

  Nessa wanted to run, to scream, but Hunter’s grip on her hand tightened painfully, holding her still. Only when their stalker was close enough for them to feel the air stir, close enough for their breath to be heard, did Hunter move.

  Hunter lashed out, striking as fast as a snake, and a mighty bellow filled the cavern, ricocheting off the rounded walls, amplified to a deafening degree. Together they sprinted through the darkness, Hunter leading the way.

  Since they didn’t immediately run into any walls, Nessa guessed that Hunter somehow knew exactly where everything was. The tunnel closed in around them, and Nessa’s hand clutched at his, her other closing around the bag that bounced against her side, holding it down. Behind them came an agonised shout and a sudden burst of blue light. The two of them pushed themselves harder, barrelling along the tunnel as fast as they could.

  Nessa’s legs burned and her lungs gasped for air. She refused to let that slow her down.

  Unseen hands of jagged stone reached out to her, ripping at Nessa’s clothing as she bumped against the tunnel’s walls, cutting and bruising her arms. Hunter pulled her to the right, and her shoulder whacked a corner as they turned into the larger mining tunnel. How Hunter could tell where they were going, Nessa couldn’t fathom, and she didn’t have the time to figure it out either.

  All too soon, Nessa heard the sounds of pursuit behind them.

  Blood roared in her ears and her legs felt as if they were made of lead. Her breath got caught in her throat and she sobbed, nearly stumbling as their pursuer grew closer. Nessa and Hunter rocketed around another corner, and ahead, a dull light appeared.

  The end of the tunnel was within sight.

  Nessa ran with everything she had, the mine’s exit getting delightfully closer with each step.

  Before Nessa knew it, they were there, being bombarded by howling wind and cold rain. They leapt through the threshold, the air stirring behind them as their pursuer drew frightfully near, and tumbled down an embankment, landing in a tangled heap in a puddle. Hunter didn’t pause, jerking Nessa to her feet, pulling her over to the first row of houses and tucking them into the gloom of an alleyway.

  Together they turned, looking up at the mine.

  Hunter flinched and Nessa felt the hope of escape die.

  Standing there, as still as a statue, looking like a god of death personified, was Shadow.

  Shadow gazed down at them, his handsome face pale and expressionless, giving no hint of what he was thinking. In one hand he held a long, sharp sword, the tip pointed towards the ground, whilst his other was pressed to his side, where blood shone a stark red against his black clothing, just visible in the gloom of night.

  Hunter had injured him, clearly, and Nessa could tell by the amount of blood that it must have been a bad wound, a deep one. Despite this, though, Shadow showed no pain, no weakness. He stood tall and strong, radiating strength and power. Misgivings grew in Nessa’s stomach.

  Shadow stepped down the embankment, walking easily, not slipping or falling. It was unnerving to witness. He moved like a cat stalking its prey. Nessa braced herself, ready to run, but Hunter muttered a curse and moved in front of her, his sword raised and ready.

  “What the hell do you think you are doing?” Nessa hissed in his ear.

  “The only thing I can do,” Hunter growled, watching as Shadow prowled closer. “I’m pretty sure he’s not just going to let us walk away.”

  “And you reckon you can take him on in a fight? With swords?”

  Hunter shrugged.

  “I hate to point it out to you, but his sword is a lot bigger than yours.”

  “It’s not about size, Nessa, but how it’s wielded.”

  Before Nessa could talk him into reason or pull him back, Hunter lunged forward, stabbing at Shadow. The element of surprise may have helped Hunter back in the cavern, but Shadow was not to be tricked twice. He blocked Hunter’s jab with an easy swing of his sword, batting Hunter’s away as if it was a mere nuisance. A second later their blades met again, the metal ringing loud and as clear as a bell.

  Nessa stumbled back, not wanting to be struck in the ensuing fray. She watched in horror as they fought. She had seen fights before, scuffles at school involving kicks and a few punches, but they were tame compared to this, almost pathetic. The battle between Hunter and Shadow was feral in its brutality, barbaric. They weren’t fighting over an insult or a girlfriend, they were fighting for life and limb, and perhaps something that meant a lot more: freedom.

  She watched, flinching at each blow. Hunter held his own to start with, blocking each strike of Shadow’s sword, even counter attacking, but the toll of his imprisonment began to show. Weeks without proper food and rest made him weak, and the exertion during their escape wasn’t helping. Not even Shadow’s injury gave Hunter the upper hand in the end.

  Hunter’s movements slowed and became laboured, and at each of Shadow’s hard hits, he struggled to keep his balance, forced to retreat.

  And then he made a mistake, and Shadow pounced.

  With a steely slither, Shadow’s sword slid down Hunter’s, locking them together at the crossguard. They struggled against one another, wrestling for control, then an evil glint shone in Shadow’s eyes and his head whipped forward, bashing against Hunter’s forehead.

  Hunter recoiled, his sword falling from numb hands, landing on the ground with a clang. He stared at it with a dazed expression, making no move to retrieve it, making no move to defend himself as Shadow gave a mighty kick to his chest, sending him flying. Hunter hit the wall of a nearby house, smashing against it heavily, his head striking stone. Instantly he went limp, falling to the wet ground in a heap.

  For a heartbeat Nessa was frozen, fearing the worst. But then, thankfully, his chest moved faintly with a breath, and she gave a cry, running over to him.

  Nessa made it halfway across the alley before Shadow was upon her.

  She screamed as his hand closed on her arm, as he swung her around and pushed her up against a wall. He moved in front of her, blocking her view of Hunter, and raised his sword, pressing its fine edge against her throat.

  Nessa stilled, hardly daring to breathe.

  Her head was level with his chest, and too afraid to look up into his eyes and see her death written in them, hers fixed onto the torc that sat around the base of his neck, seemingly shining with its own inner light. It was different to the one he had worn before, beautiful and intricate, with both fine and thick silver wire twisted together
over and over, studded with small blue gems that were nestled between the strands, and capped with two large faceted sapphires that shimmered with every slight movement.

  Shadow shifted, and the sword edge pressed harder against Nessa’s skin, a thin line of fire burning with threat and intention. Nessa barely suppressed a gasp, and of their own volition, her eyes flicked up, instantly captured by Shadow’s dark gaze.

  Time became suspended.

  It suddenly felt as if there was nothing else in the world but them.

  With her eyes locked with his, her fear seemed to dim. She could not help but observe certain aspects about him, qualities that made him seem more human and a little less monstrous. She noticed trivial details, like how long his eyelashes were, and how his eyes were such an amazing blue; how his long hair had lost its wave and was slick with rainwater, reaching to just past his shoulders, and that he had a small, silvery scar that marred the skin just beneath his ear. Shadow swallowed, his throat working, and Nessa awakened from her daydream-ish daze.

  Shadow’s eyes gazed into Nessa’s, and she saw that they were filled with a great many things that made fear rear its ugly head again. Those beautiful blue depths were filled with rage, sorrow, and what scared Nessa the most: regret.

  What could he possibly be planning to bring such emotions to his eyes? Nessa didn’t know. She didn’t want to even start thinking about it. He had the looks of a fallen angel, and the temperament to match, wretched and cruel to the core.

  Nessa shivered and bit her lip, trying to think of something to do, anything.

  Praying that her thoughts were concealed from him, Nessa inched her hand towards her messenger bag, reaching for the dagger that was tucked inside.

  The drum of the pouring rain muted the noise as she pulled it free, and her shivers hid the movement as she angled it, ready to thrust it into his side. Shadow frowned, and faster than Nessa could blink, his free hand was clenched around her wrist, slamming it up against the wall by her head. Nessa yelped as pain blossomed in her wrist. Her fingers spasmed, losing their grip on the dagger. It fell to the ground, lost to her.