The Dark Passenger (Book 1) (11 page)

Slowly, groggily, Edwin opened his eyes. He was in his room,
but Walt and Ashton were gone. It wasn’t until he wiped the sleep from his eyes
that he saw that his gloves were off. His breath caught in his throat when he
saw that his arm was gray up to his shoulder. He barely had time to process
what he was seeing before he heard the other children talking in the distance,
walking back to Hawthorne after their apprenticeships. Edwin covered his arm,
and soon Walt was at the door.

“You’re up! How’re you feeling?”

“Never better,” Edwin croaked, surprised by how dry his
throat was. Relieved that Walt was safe, he tried to crack a smile.

“You look horrible.”

“Have I been here long?” The last thing he remembered was
the creature hovering over Walt’s bed.

“Three days. When Vanora saw your arm—Walker, get back
in your pocket. Now! I said now.” The stick-bug retreated back into Walt’s
pocket. “Sorry, you’re the only one he does this around.” He cleared his throat
and continued. “When Vanora saw your arm she called on the Medgards to see if
they knew what was wrong with it, but they couldn’t explain it.”

“Three days? How could I have slept for three days?”

“You got attacked by the imp,” Walt said. “It blew a hole
through the door downstairs and almost killed you before leaving.”

Edwin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You think
the—what did you call it, imp?—did this to me?”

“Yeah, you’ve never heard of the imp up on the ledge? It’s
an evil spirit that guards the tunnels. It never leaves the mines and it
never
comes to Chardwick. No one knows why it would come here. You have no idea how
lucky you are to be alive. You don’t remember anything?”

Edwin shook his head. Needing time to process this
information—he was safe, no one suspected anything—he asked, “Did I
miss anything?”

“Not really. Headmistress Vanora told Sam and me that our
aunts will be here soon, only they aren’t going to get us until after the
fair.” He placed his hand reassuringly on Edwin’s shoulder, and added, “But
don’t worry! We will still see each other all the time. Chardwick isn’t very
big. Maybe you could even stay with us.”

“I’d like that…” Edwin replied. He couldn’t help but get his
hopes up—a real family!—and he smiled broadly.

“What?” Walt asked. “Why are you looking at me funny.”

“I’m just happy you’re all right,” Edwin said.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You’re the one everyone’s worried about.
Everyone will want to hear about what happened to you, even if you don’t
remember anything. Anyway, it’s about time to eat. I’m sure you’re starving.”

“Yeah, just give me a minute to get cleaned up. Meet me down
there?”

“All right,” Walt said, and he left.

Alone again, the spirit hissed, “He knowss more than he
letss on.”

“Maybe…” Edwin said. “But I trust him. Carrion and Sam are
up to something, and I think Walt is working against them.”

“But to what end? Don’t trusst him.”

Then whom should I trust?
Edwin thought, but he
didn’t say it. Instead, he asked, “What happened to that creature?”

“I wass released after you losst consciousness. By then it
was gone.”

Edwin’s body ached so badly that he thought he would never be
able to move, but eventually his thirst and hunger got the best of him. Pulling
himself out of bed, he placed his weight on his unsteady legs. They wobbled
while he put on his uniform and gloves.

In the bathroom, he looked at himself in the mirror and saw
that his eyes were sunken, giving him the haggard look of a corpse. The spirit
hovered above his left shoulder like a sentry. The dull outline of a face
appeared in its form, stoically watching over him. They would speak more later,
he knew, but for now they both felt his exhaustion and preferred the silence.
He stared at the mirror a while before he mustered the energy to move.

The whispering downstairs stopped as soon as he entered. The
only sound was that of the flickering candles and his footsteps, which seemed
impossibly loud. Headmistress Vanora rose from her seat and took a tentative
step in his direction. With everyone staring at him, Edwin walked straight up
to her, grabbed a bowl, and asked, “Am I too late to eat tonight?”

“Boy, everyone else might be talking about this magic
death-imp, but as far as I’m concerned you have a lot of explaining to do,”
Headmistress Vanora said.

Lady Nemain was also there. She rose quickly and cut in
front of the Headmistress. “And he will as soon as he’s gathered his strength.”
To Edwin she said, “Of course you may eat tonight, dear. Let me get the serving
spoon.”

Edwin fought to control his breathing while Lady Nemain
turned to help him scoop food onto his plate. Headmistress Vanora stood fuming
behind her, clearly shocked by her gumption. Sliding back in front of the
Headmistress, Nemain returned and acted as natural as could be. Only her voice
belied her apprehension.

“You gave us quite a scare there,” she said. “We’re glad to
see you’re up.”

No one was even pretending to eat now. They were all waiting
for the coming explosion.

“Edwin,” Headmistress Vanora said through clenched teeth,
“stay and eat up here. You can tell us about the other night.” She tried to
smile.

“He will do no such thing,” Lady Nemain said, waving him
off. “He is a tired, sick boy, and he will have a peaceful meal. There will be
time enough to answer questions later.”

Puffing out her chest, Headmistress Vanora said evenly,
“Lady Nemain, you forget yourself. The Lucent’s ward or not, you have no
authority here. The orphanage is
my
domain, and your presence is allowed
only as long as
I
permit.”

“No, Headmistress Vanora, it is you who forgets common
decency. And I am not the Lucent’s pet, I am his ward, raised in his household
under his personal care since childhood. More importantly, I am Mistress of
Arms and a member of the Council. The Lucent will hear of this, but the
children are watching us—this is not the time or place for an argument. Sit
down and eat your dinner, and the three of us will talk later.” Edwin noticed a
scary vein throbbing in Lady Nemain’s neck.

Headmistress Vanora’s face had contorted into shocked
incredulity, but she sat down and said nothing more. There was a sharp exhale
from the room. Tepidly, conversation resumed.

Walt beckoned Edwin to sit between him and Sam. Sam was the
last person Edwin wanted to sit by at Hawthorne, but he tried not to let his feelings
show.

“I knew it,” Sam declared.

“Knew what?” Edwin said before draining his cup of water.

“That you were awake. Walt wouldn’t let anyone sit there, so
I knew.” The food was bread, cheese and stew. Sam pulled off a piece of bread
and continued: “Don’t mind Vanora. She just thinks you had something to do with
breaking the lock on the front door. You should be more worried about your arm.
Everyone has seen it, and look around, they’re all scared of you.”

“Can’t you let him get a bite of food before you start in on
him, Sam?” asked Walt.

“No,” Sam replied drolly.

“But Sam, we know Edwin didn’t have anything to do with the
lock,” Walt said.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Do we? I don’t believe for one
minute that the lock, Edwin passing out on the floor with his clothes in a
bundle, and his arm are a coincidence. Can you explain any of it?” Sam asked,
looking from Walt to Edwin. It sounded like a warning.

“Why they let Edwin stay in Hawthorne is anyone’s guess,”
Martha said. “They should have let his blood flow under the hallow tree the
morning they found him.”

“I was there yesterday morning when the healer came to see
your arm,” Walt said, offering him a moment of relief. “He took a look at your
arm and said he had never seen anything like it, but it reminded him of
frostbite. He said it might be what was making you sick and he would amputate
it if you weren’t better in the next few days. He came back again last night
and had a big bag with him. I think the only reason he didn’t cut it off on the
spot was because he said your fever was going down.”

“My uncle had frostbite once,” Pech said from across the
table, a block of cheese in his fat hand. “Got caught out in a blizzard and
lost three toes and a finger.”

Edwin sipped from his bowl of stew and considered his words
carefully. “Well, I’m glad they didn’t cut off my arm,” he said while he
chewed. “It seems to be working fine now, though it’s not much to look at.” He
was speaking slowly, doing his best not to stutter. After swallowing, he pulled
off his glove for everyone to see. Making a concerted effort, he moved his
fingers.

His eyes wide with fear, Drew asked, “What happened to it?”

Edwin put his glove back on, and said, “I have no idea. Walt
said everyone thought it was something called the imp, but I didn’t see
anything.”

“And the door?” Sam asked.

“I have no idea,” Edwin replied. “Walt said something broke it.”

“The front door had a big hole in it,” Rash said. “There’s a
board covering it now. The Headmistress is probably hoping she can get a new
lock at the fair this weekend.”

“That’s weird…” He let them stare at him, and wondered why
no one had asked about the door to Carrion’s garden. After three days, someone
should have found the big hole in it by now. “The last thing I remember is coming
back from the bathroom. I’ve been reading in there when I can’t sleep. It’s why
I had my clothes with me, because they’re warmer.”

Walt nodded along. “Grandpa has told me stories of weird
things like this happening in the old days. Isn’t this great? And there’s
always what happened fifteen years ago.”

Rash gasped, and Martha spat, “You know we’re not supposed
to talk about that. It’s bad luck. Do you want to draw the Others back?”

Walt gave a guilty shrug and took a bite of his food. Edwin
hoped he would get a chance later to thank Walt for his help.

“That’s quite a coincidence, wouldn’t everyone agree?”
Martha asked, leaning in from across the table. “Well, we’re just glad you’re
up and feeling better again. I guess it will be Headmistress Vanora’s problem
figuring out what happened to our door. But like you said, Walt. Weird things
happen.”

After dinner, Headmistress Vanora dismissed the others and
called Edwin up to her table. Sam grabbed his arm before leaving, and
whispered, “Your lies won’t fool anyone.”

Edwin watched Sam go before standing up and making his way
over to Headmistress Vanora and Lady Nemain. He told them the same story.

“Oh, you poor dear,” was the first thing Lady Nemain said
when he finished.

But Headmistress Vanora seemed skeptical. “That’s quite the
tale, Edwin,” she said, visibly exasperated.

Lady Nemain took the opportunity to interject. “Edna, will
you not leave this poor boy alone? After what he’s been through, and having
just woken up, he’s just a weak child. Open your eyes. What Edwin is telling us
could be a sign of the Others. The Morriseys were so recently killed, and Edwin
may have seen the creature responsible.”

“You know people are saying there’s something off about
Edwin,” Headmistress Vanora said.

“Nonsense. Edwin is a child of Chardwick. And as you like to
point out, Hawthorne is yours, and you have a duty to protect every child in
your care. I expect you to do your part to quell these vicious rumors, Edna.”

Headmistress Vanora puffed out her chest indignantly. “You
expect
?
I am Headmistress of the Orphanage, and you are my guest. I will run it as I
see fit.”

“I may have no official authority here,
Headmistress
,
but I will not endure you berating a sick child.” She said the word
headmistress like it was a curse. “Let’s go, Finn. We’re done here.”

“
Finn?
” Headmistress Vanora asked, a look of shock on
her face. “Nemain, this boy is not your dead son.”

Lady Nemain’s face fell, but she repeated, “Edwin, go.
Headmistress Vanora and I have business to discuss.”

“Yes, Lady Nemain,” Edwin said, and he turned to go. “I’m
sorry for any trouble I’ve caused,” he added just before shutting the door
behind him.

With him gone, the two women began yelling at each other.
Edwin heard it all the way back up to his room. He was guilt-ridden and
worried, but his concerns drifted away as soon as his head hit his pillow.

*   *   *

Edwin was surprised the next day at Master Carrion’s shop when,
standing at a cauldron in Carrion’s attic, he and Sam were joined by the
Council. Edwin recognized Lady Nemain, who smiled at him reassuringly, Carrion,
and Mistress Schuylar, but the rest of the faces were new to him.

“So this is him,” said a man with calloused hands and a soot-covered
beard.

Nodding, Carrion said, “This is the boy they say was
attacked by the imp.”

“If that’s true, we must learn why,” the man said. “Boy, my
name is Master Danagger. Do you know why the imp would spare you?”

Taken aback, Edwin said, “Erm, no, I have no idea.”

“We figured as much,” Mistress Schuylar said, cutting in.
“Whatever the reason, it may be the answer we’ve been searching for. Master Carrion
here, after a bit of convincing, has been good enough to allow us to observe
you until we discover what makes you special.”

“Ob-observe me?” Edwin asked. “I don’t want to be observed.”

“It’s for the good of the village,” Mistress Schuylar said.
“You want what’s best for Chardwick, don’t you, Edwin?”

“Yes, but—”

“That settles it then,” Master Danagger said. “Just do what
you normally do. One of us will sit back and watch.”

Edwin looked to Master Carrion or Sam for help, but when
help didn’t come, he turned back to his cauldron.