Soul of Darkness (19 page)

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Authors: Vanessa Black

BOOK: Soul of Darkness
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For in my heart I believed it wasn’t wrong to want to defend my own life, and above all else, the lives of the ones dearest to me.

Could I really regret killing all those men and many more if it saved us?

Regret, yes. I could…and I did. But I finally decided I would not apologize for it. I had the right, just as any other living being, to defend myself and the ones I loved. And if that right came with the price of having to live with what I’d had to do to keep us alive…I would pay that price.

But I would no longer apologize for what needed to be done.

And as I made up my mind to follow my heart and to stay strong in order to get all of us through these hard and dangerous times, the cold and the guilt I’d been feeling faded into the background just enough to make me breathe a bit easier. My soul would never recover completely, but I would be okay.

I had to be.

I took a deep breath, looked into Malcolm’s eyes, and said, “I’m alright.” And I almost meant it.

A while later, we resumed our long march across the sandy beach, the toes of my bare feet slightly digging into the sand with every step I took. I could feel the rough little colonels of sand chafing lightly against the skin between my toes. But I didn’t mind. I liked feeling the sand’s coarseness, even as it rubbed against my already raw skin.

It reminded me of summer holidays…of slow, sunny days long past. I’d often gone to the beach with my parents, the happy memories of those sun-filled days finally managing to warm me from the inside as I recalled my mother’s laughter and how we used to build sand-castles together while my dad listened to our jokes and laughter with a smile on his face.

Those had been happy times…innocent times. If I’d known then how fleeting they would be, how ridiculously fast my world could be turned upside down, how quickly I could forever lose the happiness I had then taken for granted…

I would never get back the innocence of that time. Thinking of my parents, I suddenly realized how much I missed them and that I still hadn’t gotten in touch with them after everything that had happened. I just hadn’t had the opportunity. But as soon as we got back to the castle, I would take a moment to call them and tell them I was okay.

Even if it was a lie.

After another hour or so, we finally arrived at a more public beach and found tourist signs directing us toward the center of the bordering village. It was quaint with beautiful old stone houses and small but neat-looking properties surrounding them.

Though the village seemed very clean and bore signs of modern-day living, the layout of the streets and houses made me feel as though I’d traveled through time straight into the Middle Ages. I just hoped the people hereabouts weren’t still stuck in those times as well, or chances were we’d be burned at the stake if they found out who or what we were.

We quietly made our way through the nearly empty streets, looking for signs that would lead us toward a train station, if indeed there was one in this village. Considering its size, I wasn’t sure we would find one.

Here and there, older women and men were out and about taking care of their properties. Some of the older citizens nodded in greeting, but their eyes remained vigilant and wary of strangers; especially of those roaming the streets at such an early hour…

After a short while, we finally found the train station, looked at the posted schedule and patiently sat down to wait for the train.

As it seemed the ticket booth was not open this early in these isolated parts
,
we bought the tickets on the train when it arrived and chose a small, separate compartment with just enough seats for the four of us to fit comfortably.

“How long will we be riding the train?” I asked Malcolm. I knew Aaron, Aidan, and I had been on the road for several days, but since we’d taken the scenic route along the coast and the train would perhaps travel along a more direct track, I wasn’t at all sure how many hours or days we would need.

“We should reach Ballycastle in about two days,” Malcolm said.

“Two days,” I repeated, sounding a bit disappointed even to my own ears.

I’d hoped it wouldn’t take as long. Firstly, I really needed to call my parents…badly. Secondly, I wasn’t looking forward to sleeping in an upright position in this small space with my head leaning against the window next to my seat. I would have preferred a bed after all we’d been through.

Well, what were two more days? I didn’t have a choice anyway. I would just have to deal with yet another dip in the road.

So suck it up,
I told myself and relaxed into my seat. Leaning my head against the window pane, the glass felt soothingly cold against the side of my forehead.

As the train pulled out of the station and slowly started to gain speed, its whistle blowing loudly and steam billowing through the air, I closed my already droopy eyes and tried to get some sleep.

Now was the time, after all.

Here in this small space, surrounded by three of the most extraordinary people I was likely to ever meet, I felt safe and warm. This, right here and now, was my own little Haven.

And so I slept…

 

 

My sleep was restless, my dreams haunted by something I couldn’t see.

At first, I had the most riveting dream I ever could have imagined: I found myself standing before the magnificent stone walls of an otherworldly city in which the natural laws of the universe didn’t seem to apply. What should have been up was down, what should have been solid was not, enabling me to pass through almost anything without difficulty.

Weightless and free, I floated up and down along the stone walls and through openings that seemed too small for even a mouse to fit, not to mention a creature of my size. I came upon waterfalls that hung in the air, untethered to earth, the water streaming downward but never reaching the ground…simply fading out of sight.

It was surreal and utterly fascinating…I could have lost myself in such a dream.

Abruptly, I was roughly torn out of it, the blissful feeling of that reality lost as the dream shifted into another

into one I’d had before.

Yes, I often remembered the dreams I’d had. And once I found myself within a recurring dream, I’d recognize it as such. The repeating dream haunting me now was the one in which I would continuously run from an unseen enemy who was forever on my heels, breathing down my neck and coming closer until I would finally wake.

But this time, I didn’t wake. This time, the enemy caught up. I could actually feel a hand on my shoulder pulling me back. This had never happened before. It was a new occurrence.

I knew a true moment of terror as the man turned my body around to face him and plunged a knife in my chest. The pain felt so vivid that I couldn’t imagine I was only dreaming.

It felt so incredibly real.

The knife, pulled out by its master’s hand, glistened red with my blood, which leisurely dripped from the blade as though being viewed in slow motion.

Why did this scene seem so familiar? It was as though I had witnessed something like this…no,
exactly this
…before.

I looked down at my body, at the white satin pajamas I was wearing in my dream, and recalled the thought I’d had back at the B&B that there was something amiss about the color of the grey pajamas I wore.

Suddenly I remembered: they shouldn’t have been grey, they should have been white. I’d gone to bed in white pajamas.

Why, then, had I ended up wearing grey ones when I couldn’t even remember having changed? And why did this feel less like a dream and more like the recovery of a lost memory?

Had something happened that I’d forgotten about…or been made to forget about?

An insistent shaking made me reemerge from my nightmare. I glanced over at the man jolting me awake. It was Malcolm. Only slowly, sluggishly, my awareness came back to reality.

But now that I’d returned from the realm of dreams, my ‘memory’ had returned with me.

Whatever it was that had made me forget what had happened had lost its power over me. The veil had been lifted…and as I vividly remembered that one particular incident, everything else that had happened before I’d been attacked came back to me as well.

If this had been Darkness’s doing, it had clearly underestimated the power of my dreams. And for that, I was profoundly grateful.

Because nothing could be as ba
d―
as frightenin
g―
as being kept in the dark.

“What is it? What is wrong, Persephone?” Malcolm demanded.

Aaron and Aidan said nothing. They’d been saying nothing since we’d left the cave. I wondered if they saw me differently after what had happened with those men…and if they blamed me.

Hell,
I
  blamed me. They had every right to do the same, after the way I’d used them. They’d become murderers through me. And though I regarded them as innocent, I was sure they didn’t see it that way. So I understood how they must feel.

But that was no comfort, and it didn’t make me feel any less alone.

“I’m not exactly sure,” I replied and then paused, stalling for a moment. Though I was sure that what I’d dreamed about had actually happened, I doubted they would believe me. I had no proof, after all. And they didn’t remember.

And they didn’t trust me.

But they could hardly think I’d make any of this up. What reason could I possibly have?

“I seem to…no, I don’t
seem
  to, I actually remember something…something I hadn’t until now.”

“What do you remember, lass?” Malcolm asked in a serious tone of voice, giving me the impression that
he
, at least, was ready to take the information I offered at face value.

“We were lying in bed together…,” I saw Malcolm throwing disappointed looks at his sons before his gaze returned to mine, “…and the same kind of…cocoon, I guess I should call it…that enveloped us when we were hiding from the men a while back had started to close in around us. I’m not sure what I did or how I did it, but I…reacted somehow…and flung Aaron and Aidan across the roo
m―
for which I’m very sorry, by the way,” I added before going on.

Both of them just curtly nodded in my direction. Unfortunately, this time I couldn’t read their minds to find out what they were thinking. And their almost vacant expressions didn’t give me much to go o
n―
which scared the crap out of me!

Clearing my throat, I went on, “I was just about to get up and check if they were okay when I suddenly saw…a portal…open up in front of me. There were men rushing at me…with blades…in their hands. I didn’t have time to react in any way as…as one of them…stabbed me.”

“What?” Aaron and Aidan burst out simultaneously, seriously alarmed judging by the sounds of their voices and the looks on their faces.

At least some kind of reaction indicating that they still cared…that’s what I hoped it meant. Malcolm didn’t seem as surprised and rather looked as though he’d had a revelation of sorts.

“Ah, that explains it,” Malcolm said, confirming my thoughts.

“What does any of this explain?” Aaron asked angrily, “Because I sure as hell don’t get it. She obviously didn’t bleed to death, she’s not sporting a large wound, there’s not even a single scratch on her. So, how exactly is anything explained?”

“Yes, well…I was talking to myself. Sorry about that. Then let me clarify. What I meant is that Persephone’s statement explains the sudden magical imbalance I had felt from afar right before I came to meet you. She must have been gravely wounded, though, for the incident to have created such a large echo. Which brings us to your question, Aaron: Why, then, do we not see a large wound…why is she even alive?”

“Sitting right here,” I reminded them. There was something very creepy about listening to them reasoning about whether or not I should be dead now.

“I am sorry, Persephone. But unfortunately, we must talk about it. It is important to understand what
exactly
has happened and why. So, where did you say you were stabbed?”

“I didn’t,” I sighed, feeling reluctan
t
to tell them just where the knife had sliced into me. But since I knew I needed to be honest with them if we were to get to the bottom of this, I took a deep breath and replied:

“He ran the blade through my heart.”

For a moment, everyone was deathly quiet; so quiet, in fact, that I feared to take a breath and be the first to break the silence.

Finally, Malcolm spoke, “Then you know that you should be dead.”

There was no sugarcoating the truth. He was right, I should be. But I wasn’t. And though I was of course glad to be alive, there must have been a catch somewhere.

Because the last time I had checked, I hadn’t been impervious to knives…or anything else that would have chopped me to pieces. And I was absolutely sure I hadn’t had any magic left in order to heal myself, if such a thing was even within my power.

Since Aaron and Aidan had been unconscious, someone else must have saved me…someone with an agenda. Otherwise my memories wouldn’t have been messed with to make me forget it had ever happened.

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