Dark Company (19 page)

“Please! Watch where you’re going!” he shouted.

Kenji eyed the mouse with amusement. “Nice totem.”

Sebastian stood on his hind feet, his pink nose twitching. “I see you’ve made some friends.” He sniffed in disgust. “You smell like the bar.”

Kenji smelled the lapel of his jacket. Francis clumped down from the bed. He approached the mouse, getting in close.

“We’d like to talk to you about Skylark.”

H
ex and Red entered the cabin. She wore sunglasses and a brown silk scarf tied over her hair. In her hands she carried a thin grey river stone, the shape and size of a dessert plate, and a brown leather pouch tied with a cord. They greeted no one, moving quietly into the shadows to wait. Poe sat beside Caddy.

“They’re here for the ceremony,” he said.

The eyes of the woman next to her flashed with hope.

“What do you mean?” Caddy asked.

Poe pointed to his arm. “It’s time to choose, Cadence.”

He was talking about the mark. He wanted her to be tattooed. Had he known all along this was coming? Was that why he’d confided in her? To gain her trust? The blood pounded in Caddy’s ears. How dare he single her out and make her choose like this? Everyone in the room was staring at her. She didn’t want the mark. She wasn’t ready to make that commitment—she might never be.

“I don’t want to do it, Poe.”

“It’s a great honour to bear the mark. The Dreamers need you. We can’t survive without you.”

“No, I don’t want it. I don’t want to end up like the rest.”

Poe persisted. “You’ve seen what we’re up against, Cadence. These people have been holding the dream for generations. If we lose this, if the link is broken, your vision of the future will become reality.”

Caddy stared at the floor. Maybe she was being paranoid. Maybe she was just afraid. She wished she could share Poe’s conviction. But his intensity paralyzed her. “I can’t.”

“You don’t have to stay,” he said. “You can leave if you want.”

This made her angry. Stay and be marked, or go—were those her only options? “You keep saying that. What do I have to go back to? My father’s missing. There are Company men everywhere. I’ll be killed like Meg.”

His eyes clouded at the mention of her name. He didn’t need to be reminded that his girlfriend was dead. Surely the guilt he carried was deep, even if he hid it well. For her, it was crippling. “I’m so tired.”

He took her hand in his. “I know. We’re all tired. But we must keep going.” He drew her close, and she allowed herself to rest her head against his chest. He held her in his arms, speaking softly in her ear. “I know how hard it is. It’s too much for one person to bear. That’s why we have to stay together, so we can help each other carry this burden.”

She shook her head. “All those arms … I can’t stand the idea of it.”

“That’s what the Company wants—to scare you, to break us apart. The mark connects us and makes us stronger. It’s what the Company fears most.”

He held her closer. She could hear his heart beating and smell the river on his clothes. Could she trust him? Could she trust anyone? She wanted to. She wanted to let go, to surrender to the tide and let it take her so she wouldn’t have to make choices. The truth was, she was terrified of dying alone. Better to belong than not belong and be forsaken. Raising her eyes, she could see the
dark curve of his lashes against his cheek. She clung to him, her resolve waning. He squeezed her hand.

On some imperceptible cue, the Dreamers created a circle around them. Hex kneeled in front of her, holding the stone and leather pouch. Red lurked in a corner of the room, watching. Poe left her, taking a seat with the others.

Hex placed the river stone on the floor and removed her glasses, the empty socket a dark shock against the life in her sky-blue eye. Unwinding the leather cord, she worked the pouch open with her fingers and extracted a handful of wood shavings, setting them in a neat pile on the stone. She produced a needle, a spool of thread, a box of matches and a smaller fabric pouch that glistened as though sprinkled with fairy dust.

The Dreamers hummed, the note pulsing rhythmically down Caddy’s spine. Her eyes grew heavy. Hex drew a measure of thread from the spool, threaded the needle and twisted the strand around the length of it until only the tip was exposed. She struck a match, lit the wood shavings, and pulled a penknife from her pocket, running the blade back and forth through the flame.

“Give me your hand,” she said, the fire dancing in her good eye.

Caddy felt hypnotized, transfixed. Somewhere deep in her mind, she didn’t want to do what Hex asked. Yet she was powerless to resist, as if the note and the expectation of the Dreamers were controlling her through some form of witchcraft. She inhaled sharply as Hex made a quick cut on her finger and squeezed several thick red drops onto the stone. Caddy held the wound to her lips to stem the flow of blood then cradled her hand in her lap. The Dreamers’ voices ascended. Hex opened the small fabric pouch and pinched a bit of shiny dust from inside, sprinkling it over the blood.

“Roll up your sleeve.”

Caddy removed her jacket and rolled her sleeve to her elbow. Her skin looked so pale and vulnerable. It made her want to cry.
Against her volition, she offered up her arm. Hex slapped it several times to numb the skin, sterilized the tip of the needle in the flame and dipped it in the blood and powder mix. Caddy caught her breath when the needle punctured her skin. Hex worked, evenly, methodically, and the mark took form. From the depths of her trance, Caddy struggled in vain to free herself. The humming mounted, pushing her deeper and deeper beyond the shoals of her will. She could hear Hex’s voice hissing faintly inside her head.

“You will contact your father,” she thought she heard her say. “You will bring him to me.”

Hours later, Caddy surfaced from the murkiness of a troubled dream. She was lying on a blanket in the middle of the cabin. Her head was heavy. How long had she been out? Had she even gone through with the marking ceremony? Her eyes darted to her left arm. It was wrapped in a clean cloth bandage. There was a faint red outline where the mark had bled through the fabric. She looked around the room. The Dreamers were sitting quietly. Hex and Red were gone. Poe saw that she was awake and came to her with water in a wooden cup. He helped her to a sitting position and held the cup to her lips. She gulped. She was so thirsty. He brushed the hair from her face.

“We are forever bound, now,” he said.

And so it seemed to be true. Caddy could feel the bond between them, an energetic cable from him to her—to all the Dreamers.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

Taking his hand, she stood and followed him to a corner of the cabin. The Dreamers beamed at her. She sensed their gratitude. And their relief. It made her feel important. Poe helped her to the floor, carefully, and sat beside her, her head in his lap. His energy flowed with hers.

“I can feel you so close to me,” she said.

“Now I can never hide from you.”

He laughed and to her delight, his happiness rang inside her. It was so intimate, so personal. It made her want to stay like this with him forever. She tried to decipher her emotions, to rationalize her feelings. Was she falling in love with him? Was the feeling real? Did she even care? After all the fear and misery of the last few days, this joy was a welcome drug. She reached up and touched his lips. “In the Emptiness, there is no laughter.”

He kissed her fingertips, sending a shiver through her body. “It’s a place beyond the vibration of life.”

“Why would anyone want that?” she whispered. “How could we ever allow it?”

“So many have given up. People have lost their way. There is very little hope in the world.”

“Is that the source of the Emptiness?”

“Yes, in part.” Poe sipped from the wooden cup and passed it to her. “There is a Darkness that abhors the Light and the life in it. It has existed since the world began.”

“If it’s always been here, why destroy the earth now?”

“We’re at a crossroads. The Darkness is taking advantage of the hopelessness.”

Caddy let her mind linger over this and was suddenly moved by a revelation. “They’re the ones who are scared. They’re afraid of us.”

Poe smiled. He was so beautiful when he smiled. “Yes. The balance could tip in either direction. The veil over human consciousness is lifting. We are only just realizing how powerful we are.”

She was elated by the idea. Anything was possible. Then she looked at the Dreamers lying on the floor and her euphoria faltered. They seemed so tattered and worn. Several were coughing. What could a handful of terrified people do against such powerful forces? The joy in her heart waned and doubt crept in its
place. She could hear Hex’s voice, telling her to contact her father. Telling her to bring him here. Had she really said those words? Or had Caddy imagined it? She hadn’t considered the danger to him when she’d allowed herself to be marked. She could see now that it was a mistake. Maybe this is what Hex had wanted all along. Maybe she’d even used Poe to trick her …

Outside the cabin, the sky darkened with gathering clouds, and there was a muted sound like someone weeping.

“Do you hear that?” Poe asked.

Caddy held her breath and listened. “It’s starting to rain.”

The drops fell, tapping lightly at first—then pounding on the roof in a fury of fists. Caddy withdrew into herself, resting her head on her hands. She felt so tired again. And the mark on her arm was starting to burn.

“T
he Council was more than fair,” Sebastian said, clinging to Skylark’s hair.

“Fair?” Trust the mouse to take their side. “They said I couldn’t come back if I decide to work with Kenji and Francis, and that I’m no longer a member of my Frequency.”

Kenji snorted. “Those guys are about as fun as a bag of knives.”

Francis clomped backwards in front of her. “Slow down, honey. What are you so angry for? You said yourself you didn’t fit in with them.”

Skylark crossed her arms. “I can’t believe they were so happy to dump me.”

“They didn’t know what they had. We appreciate what you are.” Francis pointed at her feet as she walked. “Look how good you are at that now.” He turned to Kenji for support.

“Fast learner,” Kenji said.

“It’s not the most comfortable way to travel,” Sebastian complained.

Kenji raised an eyebrow at the mouse. “Have you seen her jump?”

Francis stopped, forcing her to stop as well. “So, how about it, Skylark? What do you say? Are you going to work with us?” His sapphire eyes blazed at her.

She looked away. She didn’t want to give in so easily. Sebastian busied himself tickling the hairs on the back of her neck. “Yes,” she grudgingly agreed, pouting at Francis. “You knew I’d say yes.”

Kenji held out his hand. “Welcome to the island of misfit toys.”

Skylark took it and they shook, sealing the deal.

Francis pushed his Stetson to the back of his head. “Well, now, that’s good news,” he said, and got straight to business. “Okay, first assignment—figure out how you know the Speaker.”

“Whoa, Tex,” Kenji intervened. “Let the girl settle in.”

“It’s all right,” Skylark said. “I don’t mind. We’ll need to go to the Hall of Records.”

“Fine. I’m flying the plane this time.” Kenji touched her sleeve and with a bright flash, they landed in front of
The Book of Events
, Francis appearing right behind them.

“Okay, honey, show us what you’ve got,” he said.

Skylark called up her memory of the Speaker, wrestling to control the fear and pain she felt when she thought of him.

Sebastian murmured in her ear. “Relax your mind. Imagine the scene without the emotional investment.”

She closed her eyes, envisioning the car and the girl beneath it. The book flew open, its pages flapping wildly.

“Easy … easy,” Francis soothed.

Skylark tipped her head back, letting the images flow. The book slowed and came to rest. She opened her eyes and looked down at the page.

“Is that it?” Francis asked.

She nodded.