Rising Dark (The Darkling Trilogy, Book 2) (27 page)

I started running. As I reached the
mansion, the knowledge came to me, probably from Mama Akosua, that
they would not begin the journey back to Mississippi until the
following morning.

I stopped long enough to change
clothes, pack a bag and take whatever money I kept at the mansion.
I was anxious to get there as soon as possible, but knew that
although I was faster than Julia, my speed would decrease as the
day progressed, so I saddled her up and rode north.

***

The sun would be coming up in a few
hours, so I should have been making my way back to Louisiana by
now. Instead I stood outside the family’s home, my gaze on the
window of the room Lina, Luna’s baby, shared with her brothers. It
was proving to be an extremely emotional night as I stared at the
house, knowing she was spending the rest of the night in her own
bed, sleeping the dreamless sleep of an exhausted child. Her
adopted parents were still awake in another room, talking in hushed
tones, marvelling at the miracle that had seen them freed instead
of on the long journey back to Mississippi and a life of
bondage.

I searched Lina’s memories as she
slept and found that although they were poor, she was loved and
cherished, and a little bit spoilt by her two brothers.

My thoughts returned to the second
heartbeat Onyx had mentioned so long ago, and it still had the
power to make my stomach clench in anguish. I would never have
children of my own. But I could find joy in Luna’s, in this
precious child she’d had to give away.

I was interrupted from my musings by
movement inside her room, the rustle of bedcovers being flung back
and then bare feet treading carefully across cold wooden floors. It
was Lina, and although her mind was still clouded with sleep, her
thoughts were on the window and something she wanted to see
outside.

I moved a few doors down, moving
deeper into the shadows as she came to the window and opened it,
looking out toward where I stood.

Was it possible she had Luna’s gifts?
I turned around and began walking away, keeping to the shadows. I
had reached the next house when she spoke, her voice high and light
though slurred with sleep.

“
Thank you.”

I spun around, astonished, as she
closed the window and went back to bed. She was fast asleep a few
seconds later.

I smiled, marvelling at what had just
occurred. I was even more reluctant to leave now, but I had no
reason to stay. She was safe, I was sure of that. But now I knew
where she was, I would keep an eye on her.

I spent the day holed up in the woods.
I was woken up at sunset by two words, a deeper, emotionally
charged echo of Lina’s sleepy ones.

Thank you.

Mama Akosua was gone before I could
respond.

I left my grave and spent a few
moments watching the sun set. In the wilderness, before I found
Luna, this sight signified death. The slow death of my soul and a
literal death for whoever was unfortunate enough to fall prey to
the demon that was tethered to me. Now it signified hope. I had
lost Luna, but as long as she lived, I would have a reason to carry
on because my existence had made it possible for her, and those she
loved, to live as men and women. So I would live and find a way
past my pain until she was truly gone.

***

A few days later, I made my weekly
visit to the Marshall plantation. Hidden a safe distance away, I
played the usual game of entering Mama’s mind, pretending I did not
know she was aware of my presence. But this time, I found myself up
against a blank wall. I waited, anxiety slithering into my heart at
the thought that she would deny me my weekly glimpse of Luna. Then
she spoke into my mind.

If you want to know how
Luna is, you must sit with me.

I did not move. I was desperate for my
weekly glimpse of Luna, but it would be sheer folly to willingly
enter the witch’s cabin.

A second later, I was outside the open
cabin door. When I entered, she was in the process of adding hot
water to two cups and did not look up.

“
Please sit down,” she
said.

Her tone was soft and her demeanour
almost deferential, which immediately sounded warning
bells.

Her mind was still a blank wall, and
knowing that entering her cabin willingly was perhaps one of the
stupidest things I had ever done in my life, I moved to the table
and sat down opposite her.

She began stirring the tea.

“
Do you realise you were
able to enter my home although I did not invite you in?”

“
But you said—”

“
No. I said you must sit
with me, but I did not say you could enter. The magic is very
precise and it must be a very clear invitation from the heart, and
mind, that will allow you into a home. Mine was not.”

Silence filled the cabin. Her gaze
remained trained on me, her mind a blank wall. I shifted uneasily.
No, it was not a good idea to enter her cabin willingly.

She spoke again a few moments
later.

“
The fact that you were
able to walk into my cabin, and Luna’s, without an invitation is
just one of many things about you, and your connection to my
daughter, that I do not understand.”

She seemed uneasy and I was reminded
of Auria’s terror regarding that vision of Luna.

“
She had reason to be
fearful,” Mama Akosua said. “Your maker is another thing I do not
understand. She did not die in that fire. Did you know
that?”

I shook my head.

“
But it appears as if she
has not tried to find you. And I suspect it is because she was
blocked from doing so.”

“
As you were blocked when
you first tried to find Luna and myself?”

“
Yes.”

I was quiet now, deeply concerned, and
those days in the wilderness, of going to sleep in the middle of
summer and waking to a grim winter, came clearly to me.

Mama Akosua gasped, her eyes round
with shock as she stared at me. “That is not possible.”

But judging from her expression, she
knew it had happened but did not understand it. Silence hung in the
small dark cabin.

She pushed one of the cups toward
me.

“
It is tea. Perhaps if you
begin with simple food and flavours, you will begin to move on to,
and perhaps be able to taste, real food again.”

“
Um, how very gracious of
you. Thank you.”

I picked up the cup, wondering how I
was going to pour it away without her seeing, because it would be
folly for me to drink it. Her gaze was sharp, watching my every
move. No. There was no way I was going to drink it.

“
It is one of the things I
see in Luna’s mind the most,” she continued. “The meal she prepared
for you that last night. She always tells herself she could have
included this thing or other. Or that she should have said or done
more.”

I was touched by that grief again, so
swift, so complete in its total devastation as I listened to her
words. She seemed sad too, although I could not tell
why.

“
I had to leave her,” I
said. “If I had kept her with me I would have done the unthinkable,
and...”

She held up a hand.

“
I know more than anyone
why you did not make her your wife. That is what you would have
done, is it not?”

I nodded, unsure of whether or not by
admitting this I was laying a trap for myself. But the image of
Luna on her wedding day in a simple white dress was like a barbwire
kiss and I lowered my gaze, unable to speak.

“
Yes,” Mama Akosua said.
“I know, for was it not I who summoned the spirit and was nearly
consumed so I could find you? I cannot tell her it is because of my
foolish actions that she is separated from you. It has tasted our
blood now. It will forever plague us unless I find a way to banish
it once and for all.”

A heavy silence settled over us,
leaving me lost in thoughts of Luna and all that had been snatched
from me. And in the lull of the silence that followed, I brought
the tea to my lips and sipped it, my thoughts on Luna and the meal
she had prepared for me on our last evening at the
mansion.

“
Oh, how she worries about
you. She thinks you are too trusting,” Mama said, drawing me away
from the gut wrenching image of Luna in the red gown. Mama Akosua’s
soft tone turned to a knife edge when she spoke again. “And she is
right.”

I glanced sharply up at her. She was
very still, watching me like a tiger that has its prey pinned by
the neck. My gaze immediately returned to the cup and my eyes
widened.

When I glanced up again in
consternation, she was smiling softly.

“
You
are
too trusting,” she continued.
“But I will never betray that trust.”

I closed my eyes for a few seconds as
relief washed over me. When I met her gaze again, I couldn’t help
smiling, the first time I had smiled in months.

“
But I must warn you,” she
said. “If you ever enter a witch’s home, especially one who vowed
to kill you, and drink anything she offers you, I will break your
skull!”

“
I promise you, Mama, I
will never do anything like that again.”

“
Good. I asked you to sit
with me today for two reasons. First, to thank you for helping my
granddaughter. Luna does not know what you have done, so I will
thank you for the two of us. The other reason I called you here is
that there is another that needs you. A man I dreamt of. His name
is Thomas.” I stared blankly at her. “You have never met him, but
were he not born out of wedlock, he would share your
surname.”

I leaned forward in my
chair.

“
He is your nephew.” She
showed me an image, a hazy one, of a man in his early twenties. I
did not need her to tell me he was related to me, for he had my
blue eyes and I could see Albert in the slightly condescending
curve of his lips. “He is a clever boy, but poor. I have foreseen
that he will go on to be a great man. But he needs money and the
right doors to be opened for him. You could be of great help to
him.”

The image of the boy had been like a
hard slap across the face and I longed for the home and life I used
to have in England, especially the people I had left behind. They
were no doubt all dead by now. I also thought of the second
heartbeat that had haunted me for decades. Is that what my son
would have looked like had I a child?

“
I will set sail for
England as soon as I can,” I said.

“
You must leave
tonight.”

I stared at her, wondering at the
urgency. But I had learned that Mama Akosua often said only what
she felt was necessary for someone to know, so I nodded and got to
my feet.

At the door, I faced her again. “Thank
you.”

She waved it away. “You
may not be able to see Luna. But my door is always open to
you,
Wɔfa
Avery.”

Wɔfa
was a word in her native tongue that meant “uncle” and was
sometimes used to precede the name of those that were older than
you as a mark of respect.

I nodded and left. I
wondered at the complete change in stance from the witch, my old
foe. But my mind was on my family and the brief image of the boy
that I now clutched tightly as if I were afraid it would be torn
from me
.

The trip to London was a successful
one and I was able to secure my nephew’s future quickly and easily.
I chose not to reveal myself to the boy, but watched him from a
distance, and from all accounts, he was an honourable, hardworking
man.

Much of the trip found me wandering
the streets of London aimlessly, my heart heavy. The streets of my
old home were familiar, yet changed beyond recognition. Memories of
a different time, a different man from the one that now wandered
its streets, bombarded me. I keenly felt Julia’s loss as well as
Luna’s. My mortal life had been a lonely one once my mother died.
But I realised I was more alone than I had ever been and that this
would always be the case.

One overcast morning, a few days
before I was due to return to America, I stopped halfway down
Oxford Street to gaze at the display in a shop window, not seeing
much of anything but my own tortured thoughts. A voice interrupted
my musings.

Avery?

Jolted out of my reverie, I turned to
see an old man standing a few metres from me. He was a well-dressed
gentleman and appeared to be in his sixties, with smooth, pink skin
and white neatly trimmed hair. He was staring intently at me, his
face a mask of shock. His thoughts intruded on mine but they were
confused, and did not give me any clue as to who he was or how he
knew my name.

Then I realised he hadn’t actually
spoken my name aloud and part of his apparent shock was at the fact
that I had responded as if he had and was standing there staring at
him with a bemused expression on my face.