Dark Requiem (The Darkling Trilogy, Book 3) (24 page)

He almost bolted and ran
when she moved toward him, a smile curving her plum-coloured
lips.

All at once, he was alone
in the woods, the leaves soughing gently above, the song of the
woodland once more filling the air. He stood there for a long
moment, unsure what it meant, why she had come to him, especially
on the eve of a battle. His second in command joined him moments
later. As they moved away, Akan kept turning back to glance at the
place where the goddess of the moon had stepped out of thin air and
faced him.

The experience so shook
Akan that after that battle he gave up the warrior life and chose a
wife. He swore his life to the goddess and spent many hours in the
temple in prayer and meditation, asking of her only that she reveal
why she had come to him. He had also undergone countless spirit
quests in order to find out why she had appeared to him. The spirit
quests had revealed nothing to him bar one thing: a very vivid
image of a brown mare. When he had pushed Agu on its meaning, he
had been vague.

“
The horse could be one of
your future lives, or perhaps it is your spirit guide.”

Many years had passed and
he’d had no other vision of the goddess of the moon, not even a
whisper of why she had appeared to him.

Now he was sure he knew
why. The smile from the child before the golden altar was the
reason the real goddess of the moon had appeared to him, for he was
meant to save the child’s life. The smile was nowhere near as
bright as the ones he had received a month ago, but it lifted the
burden from his soul. The child he had met was still there. Perhaps
she would fully return once the shadow cast by the trauma of the
ekniwa passed.

Knowing the past brought
me joy, yet filled me with so much pain. I could remember what it
was like to be loved by Avery. I remembered—and yearned for—those
days spent closeted in his arms in our bed-sized chest, shielded
from the vengeful sun, often talking long into the afternoon. I
remembered the exquisite bliss of his lips, his touch, and of being
held in the warmth of his loving gaze. I remembered it all and knew
no one could ever love me the way Avery loved me.

I marvelled at the fact
that decades after that love had been stolen from him, its ashes
still smouldered in his heart and there wasn’t a single second of
every day he wasn’t tormented by its memory.

Being near him was so much
more difficult now. I missed him terribly and wanted nothing more
than to be in his arms. At times it was difficult to hold back from
leaning over and giving him a little peck on the lips as I used to
do so often when we were together. In the past he had been so open,
so accessible—his thoughts, feelings, every word, every glance—an
expression of his love for me. Now his thoughts were shut to me,
his expression guarded, his eyes always holding a hint of
suspicion, for he could never be sure when I would disappear and
the Other would seize control. It felt as though everything we had
shared was gone. I had waited so long and journeyed so far to
return to him, but now I was here, it seemed he was further away
from me than ever before.

How could I hope to win
his love now I was so different from the woman for whom his heart
was languishing? It was painful. Ironically so, because his
enduring love for me was what was barring the path to his heart and
I was desperate to tell him I was Luna. But I didn’t know how. And
I wasn’t even sure I should.

I had fallen in love with
Avery twice although he had changed so much, so I had to believe
there was a chance he could fall in love with me as I was. And
despite the dejection I felt, there were little signs that gave me
hope.

I used to think I
irritated Avery and he merely tolerated me. I could see now this
was not necessarily the case. I did irritate him, but he also found
me amusing. At times I would be relating a story to him whilst he
listened in silence, seemingly impatient for me to be finished. Now
I recognised the little tell-tale signs in the nearly imperceptible
raising of one eyebrow, along with the softening of his eyes, that
he was amused. On one occasion he wasn’t able to contain that
amusement and had burst out laughing whilst I stared at him
blankly, wondering what on earth he was laughing at. In the end I
joined in, just glad to hear the sound of his laughter.

It was difficult and so
painful—for him too, because he was conflicted when it came to me.
I could see it in his eyes and the way he held himself around me,
so much tension in his body, as if he had to restrain himself from
reaching for me. At times I would glance at him to find him
watching me. The moment my gaze met his, he looked away, but not
before I saw that mix of conflict and guilt in his eyes. He usually
made an excuse to be away from me for a short while so he could no
doubt wrestle with his conflicting feelings. But it was never for
long, for as the weeks passed, he appeared to find it increasingly
difficult to be away from me.

He was drawn to me, but I
did not know if he was drawn to me as I was now, or because he
sometimes saw who I used to be. The amount of pain I had caused him
in the past—not to mention the amount of pain he was in now—made me
get rid of the skimpy clothes that had clearly tormented him when I
first got to the mansion. I also began sleeping in the guest
bedroom again. I awoke each night to that familiar panic whenever I
opened my eyes and Avery was not beside me, but he was never far
away.

Alone during the agonising
daylight hours, I could only think of those days we had spent
together in the past and yearn for him.

One night I awoke in the
guest room long past sunset, automatically reaching for Avery only
to find myself alone. That blind panic touched my heart. Then I
heard a slow, strong heartbeat that could only belong to a vampire,
somewhere outside the mansion. I quickly dressed and went to find
him. He was sitting on his own in the field of flowers with his
back to me, so far from the lights at the front of the mansion that
he was almost hidden in the uncaring shadows. He was looking out
into the night, no doubt lost in his thoughts and the sorrow in
which he had been floundering for so long. I plumped myself down
beside him, breaking him out of his reverie.

“
Have they gone off on
their own again?” I asked, referring to Shadrach and
Mallory.

“
I think Maryse is with
them tonight.”

“
Hm. You think Shadrach
and Mallory are getting it on?”

He chuckled. “No. What
they feel for one another is much deeper than that.”

I was silent for a long
moment and then spoke without thinking about what I was about to
say.

“
I wish I had given my
actions a bit more thought before I came here. I’ll bet it’s not
easy having someone around who looks so much like Luna.”

He stared at me in
surprise, anguish flaring in his eyes at the mention of the name,
along with an extremely complex melding of love, grief and
guilt.

“
No, it wasn’t at first,”
he said after a few moments. “After I fought with Luna in London
during the twenties, I threw away every single painting and
photograph of her. After she died all I wanted was to be able to
see her face again. It became so I wasn’t even sure if I remembered
her clearly. Although she’s gone and nothing can bring her back, I
can at least see her every time I look at you. It is you I’m
talking to now and you I’m with every night, but through you, I can
at least see Luna’s face again.”

“
And I remind you of her
in other ways.”

“
No, although your mind is
like hers in its complexity. Your personalities are completely
different.” He was staring steadfastly up at the sky, as if afraid
to tear his gaze away from it. “Luna hid her sexuality, was
terrified of it, in fact. You, on the other hand, wield yours like
a machine gun and, I have to say, you almost brought me to my
knees. But at times, you’ll say something and your tone—even your
expression—is so much like hers it sends chills down my spine. It
makes me wonder what Luna would have been like if her life had not
been so traumatic. I’ll never know. But perhaps she would have been
a little like you.”

“
Noisy, silly, reckless,
irritating—”

He faced me
again.

“
Oh, I doubt anyone could
be as annoying as you, Dallas.”

He smiled and placed a
hand against the side of my head. I leaned into his touch, feeling
butterflies in my stomach. He gazed at me intently for a few
moments, and it seemed he was going to do more than just that hand
against my head. Then he looked away and let his hand fall from my
face. He was silent, his brow creased, that anguish in his eyes. It
was a while before he spoke.

“
It would be nice to think
she would have been happy and as utterly fearless as you are about
everything. Free, I think that’s the main difference. You’re free
in ways Luna never was. But I’ll never know.”

He was silent, lost in his
thoughts, the grief that had been cleaved to him for so long
appearing to overcome him.

I wanted to lean over and
kiss him on the cheek to draw his attention away from his doleful
thoughts, but I didn’t.

“
I hate seeing you so
unhappy, Avery. Are you telling me that in all these decades,
you’ve never been with anyone else?”

“
There have been other
women. But no one will ever come close to Luna.”

“
But she’s been gone for
so long. And you’re just so unhappy. It hurts me to see it. It
hurts Mallory. Why have you never let anyone in?”

He was silent for a long
moment. Then he sighed and looked back up at the night
sky.

“
Because...” He sighed
again. “Because she promised she would always find her way back to
me. She promised me, and whatever else she might have done, she
always kept her promises. I just know if I wait long enough, she’ll
come back.”

I bit my lip and remained
silent. I desperately wanted to tell him I had kept my promise. I
was here now and he would never have to be alone again. But the
dream I’d had of myself in that coffin prevented me from saying
anything. In the end all I did was place a hand briefly on his arm.
I got to my feet.

“
I think Mallory and
Shadrach are almost home.”

I took a few steps away
from him only to turn around to find his gaze on me as I had
expected.

“
Now why are you watching
me walk away, Avery? You know you can’t handle all of this.” I
brought up my hand to gesture from my head to my toes.

He smiled. “I can see I’m
going to regret telling you that.”

“
Damn straight.” I flicked
my hair over my shoulder before I turned and walked—slowly—toward
the gates. I knew his gaze stayed on me long after I joined Mallory
and Shadrach when they materialised at the gates.

Akan

The next few weeks passed
uneventfully for Akan. Although the child goddess was no longer in
any immediate danger, Akan worried about her and sleep was
fleeting.

He saw her at the temple
weekly and at times she appeared to be a child again, her words
timid and halting, painfully overwhelmed and confused by what was
happening around her. At other times, she was as she had been the
day the ekniwa ended, clear and concise, possessing knowledge and
prescience beyond her years. Akan watched, his stomach tied in
knots, whilst she played a stealthy game of cat and mouse with
Mutata as he plotted to be rid of her.

One night sleep remained
stubbornly out of reach, so Akan left his home and ventured into
the night. Before long, he found himself at the secret entrance to
the temple beneath the mournful trees. He stood outside staring up
at the clear, coal black sky, his mind and emotions churning with
worry for the child, the two-headed snake restless and ill at ease.
That was when he heard a noise from within the tunnel. He darted
out of sight behind the trees and stood watching the tunnel
entrance.

Topa stepped out into the
night. She came to a stop and peered around her. She squealed in
surprise when Akan appeared out of the shadows to her
side.

“
Th-the goddess. She told
me you would be here. She wants to see you.”

He sighed, the unease of
the past few weeks lifting. He nodded and followed Topa into the
temple.

The saviour of the Enwa
people was sitting cross-legged on the gold platform, two torches
by the altar keeping the darkness from consuming her. She wore a
simple violet robe instead of the lavish ceremonial robes adorned
with gold, her small frame dwarfed by the mammoth golden altar
behind her. Her thin face was sallow from weeks spent within the
temple, her hair pulled atop her head in a simple bun.

Her face lit with a smile
when Akan entered and he saw nothing of the cool hardness he had
observed over the past few weeks. Just the face of the child he
had, without ever consciously being aware of it, devoted his life
to the moment he entered the temple that day and saw her
there.

Topa scurried to one of
the corners of the temple and was almost hidden in the shadows. Jow
merely gave Akan a disapproving stare when he entered, then
proceeded as if she was not aware of his presence.