Edwin grabbed Sam’s hand, and Sam turned and very softly
said, “We just need to rise above Newick. Past there, you can start a new
life.”
A new life
, Edwin thought. It was something he had
always wanted… but he wondered what that could mean now.
Looking down, he watched the wheel-and-spoke shape of
Chardwick fade in the distance. A thin trail of smoke rose into the air; the
village was almost completely burned now. Above him he caught sight of Newick
for the first time, and it wasn’t a village—it was a fortress. Built on a
hill, it towered over the hole in the ground. And the cliffs, which had always
looked so big from the ledge and Chardwick, now looked insignificant compared
to Newick and the valley stretched out before them. The valley seemed to go on
forever, but in the far, far distance, he thought he saw some kind of wall
circling them in every direction.
The imp reached a field just outside of Newick and dropped
them on the ground. Then it left, probably to find new life to carry out its
duty of fueling the Gate. As the last of its tentacles left their bodies, Sam
grabbed Edwin’s hand. The sun was setting. Without giving it much thought,
tendrils of smoke flew from Edwin’s hands and turned the grass around him to
dust. All the while Edwin knew he had never felt more lost, or more free.
The first thing Edwin noticed was the sweet smell of rotting
fruit. Moving slowly, groggily, he felt blades of hay poking against his skin,
and when he opened an eye, he saw sunlight peeking around metal bars.
“Woah, slow down,” Sam said soothingly. “We’re all right.”
“We’re in a cage!” Edwin shrieked. He grabbed at his neck
and was relieved to find that the necklace and his cloak were both there. The
cage rocked slowly back and forth, and he could hear the horses’ hooves
slapping against the dirt road. Pieces of fruit clung to the metal bars, and a
wood plank meant to protect the drivers separated them from the front.
“We’re being rescued,” Sam explained. “You collapsed in that
field, and I carried you as far as I could. It was three days before I found
anyone.”
“I was out for three days?” Edwin asked. Squinting against
the light, he noticed that Sam’s black hair and clothes looked even dirtier
than before.
“Yeah. I thought I might have to leave you somewhere and go
out on my own, only I was worried you wouldn’t be there when I got back, and I
couldn’t find any shelter. There was only grass out there, not even a tree.”
“How’d we end up here?”
“It was the next day, but I was still tired, so I laid down
to rest,” Sam said. “A blacksmith and his wife woke me up. When I told them you
were hurt they went to get their horse and cart.”
“But it’s a cage,” Edwin repeated.
“It’s all they had. The blacksmith said he made it to take
prisoners to Newick. They’re taking us to their home now. Don’t worry, they don’t
know who we are and they only seem to want to help us.”
Edwin sat up against the bars and held his knees. He felt
that the spirit shared his concern—he had never released it—but it
seemed content where it was.
Keeping his voice low, Edwin looked up from his knees, and
said, “Sam, what happened back there in the mines?”
Worried they might overhear, Sam looked uneasily at the wood
plank separating them from the drivers, and scooted in closer to Edwin. “What
do you mean?”
“Everything! You, Walt, your aunts, this necklace, the imp,
Walker, my mother, the Gate, the Host’s Tomb, the cottage, the dead bodies, the
nixies and statues. Why did you help me?”
Sam took Edwin’s hand and rubbed it soothingly. “I always
wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. I was worried you might just be interested
in magic and power, like the Hosts. Walt and my aunts tried to make the Hosts
sound powerful and noble, but I don’t believe that for a second. No one who
thrives on the death of others can be good. And Walt and I are connected—well,
were
connected—and if I had helped you he would have known.”
“Connected how?” Edwin asked, wanting to steer the
conversation away from all the horrible things he had done.
“My aunts—they weren’t really my aunts. They created
us, and they chose the Morriseys because of their ties to the Lucent, but they
really only needed Walt. Walt and I are opposites, but we need each other. It
was all part of their spell. They couldn’t hurt me without hurting Walt, and
Walt promised them he’d look after me and keep me out of trouble, and I told
them that if they tried to lock me away I’d kill myself.”
“I thought Walt was my friend,” Edwin said, unable to hide
the hurt in his voice. “Why’d he lie? What did the witches need him for?”
“For you,” Sam said plainly. “It was always about you. They
wanted you to get them past the Gate to the Host’s Tomb, but it had to be your
idea. They were afraid that if they came to you themselves you would see them
for what they were, and their one chance would be lost. And so they created Walt
as someone you could trust and someone who could look after you. You were being
raised by Nemain’s sister, and our parents were the Morriseys. So you see, we
were supposed to grow up together, but then Rona Goodfellow died and you went
to live with the Medgards.”
“The hags did all this for a necklace?” Edwin asked, lifting
the necklace from his chest to his eye. It no longer held the luster he had
seen in the cottage before he picked it up. “It doesn’t look like much, not
anymore. It looks… dead. What do you think it is?”
A troubled look crossed Sam’s usually expressionless face.
“I’m not sure. I have a guess, but it’s only a guess…. My aunts called it the Host’s
Tomb. They fed on magic, you see. They have little of their own, only their
elements, and they needed ingredients for their spells. And they’re impossibly
old, and they’ve stayed alive all this time by creating candles that steal
youth. The candles are made from
mahrs
.”
“But if all they wanted was my
mahr
, why all the
trouble for this necklace?” Edwin asked.
“That’s what I’m trying to explain. I think all the
creatures and everything the Hosts were trying to protect are in that necklace.
I think you and your mother came from that necklace. It’s like a sanctuary of
sorts. All the magic, all the creatures, and even some of the Hosts are locked
away in that necklace. Did you see all those statues by the lake? The Gate was
never supposed to last this long—it was only supposed to protect the
necklace until the threat passed. Then, I suspect a Host like your mother was
supposed to release them all.”
“So as the Gate aged things got released over time?”
“Exactly,” Sam said. “Maybe that’s why the Hosts put the
necklace on an island surrounded by nixies. While nixies are another barrier to
thieves, they also keep creatures in. Nothing can leave that island if the
nixies turn them to stone.”
“I thought only a
mahr
could get past the Gate.”
Sam thought a moment. “Then maybe they’re there to keep
things from causing trouble, or from dying in the tunnels.”
Edwin pulled his knees close enough to his chest to bang his
head against them. “I don’t understand,” he mumbled. “If the necklace is the Host’s
Tomb, why did my mother leave the protection of the Gate? Why didn’t she take
it with her? Why’d she only bring that stupid book? Why did she leave the Gate
at all?”
“I don’t know,” Sam replied.
Edwin sighed, but before he let himself get lost in his own
thoughts, he asked, “What happened to the brownie?”
“She held onto your cloak all the way up to Newick, but as
soon as we were safe she flew away. I haven’t seen her since.”
Rocking back and forth, Edwin didn’t say anything a while. When
he looked at Sam again, he said, “What about Walker and the imp? I don’t even
know if I want to know. It’s not over, I can feel it.”
“Walker’s right here,” Sam said. “I’d guess the imp went
back to the Gate. It wouldn’t stay after it dropped us off. Trust me, I tried.
It would have been a lot easier to have it carry you instead of me.”
“Is that normal? For the imp to ignore you?”
Sam shrugged. “Walker was always Walt’s. Walt hated it, and
all I know is that the imp’s duties to Walker come second to its duties to the Gate.
Walt panicked when you got attacked by the villagers that first time in the
mine, and at first the imp wouldn’t obey Walker’s commands, not even after you
got hit by the pickaxe and almost died.”
Edwin shook the thought out of his head. “When can we leave
here? I want to get as far away from Chardwick as I can.”
Sam swallowed and looked away. “Erm… That’s going to be a
problem for two reasons…. You see, I need your help…”
Edwin’s body tensed. “You need me for something? You want to
use me, like Walt and your aunts.”
Sam’s eyes watered. “It’s not what you think. I’d never hurt
you, but it’s like I said, Walt and I are connected.”
Edwin worried he was going to be sick. “What does that have
to do with me?” he asked.
“You know what it’s like to always have someone else in your
head, to not be in control of your own mind, but you can help me. You’re a Host,
you can break my connection with Walt.”
“I don’t know how to do anything like that,” Edwin said.
“Herald might know—he’s this book my mom left for me—but he’s back
in Chardwick. I wasn’t able to take him with me.”
“We could go back and get it. Or you can learn! We’ll figure
it out.”
“I’ll help however I can, but—”
“That’s all I ask!” Sam interrupted.
Uncomfortably, Edwin nodded. “You said there were two
reasons?”
“It’s something the blacksmith told me. He said there’s a
barrier, a magical barrier, that prevents anyone from leaving—”
“Magic?
Here?
” Edwin asked.
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “I think it might have something
to do with Spice, but I didn’t want the blacksmith thinking I was too
interested.”
Edwin shook his head, and, changing the subject, said, “Maybe
we should get out of this cage. I feel fine now.”
“Be patient, let the blacksmith take us to his town. There’s
nothing else out here.”
Edwin peered through the metal bars and knew Sam was right. Edwin
saw a wall of fog in the distance, but an endless field of yellow grass
separated them, and Newick was nowhere to be seen. “You’re sure we can trust
them?”
Sam nodded. “I think so.”
“I hope you’re right. At least they can’t be worse than your
aunts,” Edwin said. Leaning against the metal bars, he tried to relax his
shoulders. He felt tense and on edge, but also tired and drained.
Sam still seemed bothered by something, and after a long
minute, said, “Edwin, there’s another thing. My aunts didn’t work alone. There
was someone else; my aunts called him their Master. Edwin, it was Carrion.”
“I heard you two talking once. You said you thought it would
be better if I was dead.”
“I had to convince Carrion that Walt was the bad twin, not
me. I don’t know why he wants the Tomb; he’s not like my aunts—he’s no
halfling. But whatever it is, it can’t be good. Master Carrion scares me, Edwin.
You don’t know him like I do. He’s ruthless. Even my aunts were scared of him.”
Edwin closed his eyes and bit his tongue until he tasted
blood. It helped him stay calm. “So there will be someone else looking for us,
and there’s a barrier keeping us from leaving. Great.”
“I’m sorry. I just thought you should know,” Sam said.
The cart stopped once in the middle of the day so that Edwin
and Sam could get a drink of water and stretch their legs. The blacksmith and
his wife were glad to see that Edwin was up, and Edwin was surprised that they
really did seem as kind as Sam said.
After they climbed back behind the metal bars, the cart
didn’t stop again until nightfall. The blacksmith and his wife lived in a
sleepy little town, but the enormous gates of Newick loomed in the distance.
Torches flickered across the city’s great wall, and Edwin worried who might be
waiting for him there.
Author’s Note
Thank you for reading
The Dark Passenger
. This is my
first novel, and I very much hope you have enjoyed it. As a new author, I am
especially interested in getting your feedback, learning what you liked and
didn’t, and growing professionally. Please feel free to email me:
[email protected].
I am writing this author’s note several months after I
uploaded
The Dark Passenger
to Amazon, and I would like to let you know
how important you, the reader, are to me and to other new authors.
I spent a lot of time writing and editing
The Dark
Passenger
, and when I finally took the plunge and posted it on Amazon, at
first not much happened. Then, as reviews started to trickle in,
The Dark
Passenger
began to get more attention. Only then did I realize how crucial
reviews are to getting discovered on Amazon. Amazon provides a great
opportunity for indie novelists and debut novels, but they want novels to prove
themselves before they shine a spotlight on them. Reviews seem to be one of the
biggest metrics Amazon uses to gauge a book’s relevance, so if you have time to
write one—good, bad, or otherwise—I would greatly appreciate it. I
will definitely read it, and hopefully it will help others decide whether they
would enjoy the book.
Click here to review The
Dark Passenger.
So what’s next for Edwin and Sam?
The Empyrean Compass:
Book Two of the Sorcerer’s Tomb
Trilogy is coming soon.
Thanks again for reading.
-Josh