The Dark Passenger (Book 1) (5 page)

While Ashton paused with self-importance, Edwin looked to
Walt, his mouth open but no words would come out. “What is it, Edwin?” Walt
asked.

“The Headmistress,” Edwin squeaked. “What do you know about
Headmistress Vanora?”

“Oh, I know Headmistress Vanora very well,” Ashton said,
clearly excited that Edwin had asked, “but much of it she tells me in
confidence. It’s not the kind of information I can share with just
anyone
.”
The way he said ‘anyone’ seemed to Edwin to mean the opposite, with a little
prodding. “But what I can tell you is that Headmistress Vanora is a great
woman, like a mother, really.”

“And she lives here at Hawthorne?” Edwin asked.

“Yes, of course. She’s responsible for us all, and her room
is downstairs. Children aren’t allowed there.”

Walt made like he was going to interrupt, but Edwin kicked
him. It was a new day, and the spirit’s words nagged at him. He needed to learn
as much as he could about Chardwick now that he knew there was another thing
out there like the spirit. And he worried he didn’t have much time to heal his
hand before the spirit began making threats. “But I imagine she has let
you
in a few times,” Edwin said, stammering only slightly.

“Well, yes, I have been lucky enough to be invited in on the
rare occasion. Why do you ask?” Ashton asked suspiciously.

“Oh, no reason. It’s just Headmistress Vanora told me that
my roommates would fill me in on anything she left out… and I figure the more I
know, the better prepared I’ll be to please the Headmistress.”

Smiling, Ashton said, “That’s the spirit. I’ve spent so much
time with less enthusiastic boys”—he looked at Walt—“that I can’t
help but be suspicious.”

“No need to worry about me,” Edwin replied, proud to be
speaking and pleased with how easily the lies were coming.

“I think you’ll do just fine here. It’s really is
unfortunate that Walt was the first boy you met. He’s our worst troublemaker.
You’re going to want to make sure you befriend the right kind of person here at
Hawthorne. Headmistress Vanora is very perceptive, and getting in with the
wrong crowd could be disastrous.”

“Aww, come on Ash, I’m not that bad,” Walt said facetiously.

Ashton sighed, and Edwin smiled in spite of himself.

*   *   *

Edwin knew he needed to find a way to heal soon. All the
rest—the new people, the spirit, the dreams, and Chardwick—would
have to wait. Ashton had just left the room to attend to “important Oculus
business.”

As though reading his mind, Walt said, “So you need
Headmistress Vanora for something.”

Taken aback, Edwin nodded.

“I figured that would be the reason you’d want to know more
about her. What are you thinking?”

Edwin shook his head and stammered, angry with himself that
his words were failing him again.

Walt was pacing the room. “She doesn’t have much worth
stealing. Information? About your parents maybe? No, that’s not it…”

Edwin balked. Walt was reading him.

“Escape? Ah, I’m closer, but that’s still not it. You just
need to sneak out a while. Am I right?”

Edwin was speechless. He was trying to form the words to
tell Walt to leave him alone and mind his own business, but before he could get
anything out, Walt added, “I could help you, you know.”

“Wh-why w-would you want to help me?”

Walt’s grin, friendly though it was, only made Edwin more
nervous. “We’re roommates, and you’re new here and don’t really know anyone. I
thought we could be friends.”

“B-but you don’t even know me,” Edwin replied.

“I could. Know you, I mean, if you want. You act like you’ve
never had a friend before.” Walt’s eyes grew wide with surprise. “Oh, you
haven’t. You’ve never had a friend!”

Edwin blushed and shook his head. He thought of the spirit.

“Well, that’s all about to change,” Walt declared. “We don’t
ever get anyone new around here. Everyone’s going to be really curious about
you. You’ll have loads of friends in no time.”

Ashton suddenly reappeared at the door. “Come along now. No
dawdling,” he said.

As they left the bedroom, Walt explained, “Time for dinner. We’re
going to the Great Hall. Don’t let the name fool you.”

“Ignore him,” Ashton said, following behind them. “You
should know that before Hawthorne was an orphanage, all of Hawthorne was once
one big room. Headmistress Vanora herself oversaw its conversion into all you
see today.”

Knowing from Ashton’s tone that he was supposed to be
impressed, Edwin said, “Erm, that’s really something, Ashton…”

“Before Headmistress Vanora, children who lost parents in
the mines and couldn’t find an apprenticeship lived on the streets,” Ashton
continued. “Imagine, children on the streets in Chardwick. Headmistress Vanora
rounded up those children and had them construct everything you see here.
Children! A better group than the ungrateful lot we have in Hawthorne today, to
be sure.”

Walt scoffed and said, “Vanora doesn’t care a thing for any
of us. Everyone knows Vanora only founded Hawthorne because she hoped that
solving the orphan problem would earn her recognition and a seat on the Council.”

His pinched nose in the air, Ashton said, “I think
Headmistress Vanora is a woman of great patience and vision. They
should
put her on the Council.”

Walt snorted, but they were already downstairs. The door
across from Headmistress Vanora’s office was open, and red candlelight
flickered into the hall. Inside, the room was warm and bright.

“So many candles,” Edwin remarked. “Enough to light the Medgards’
inn for a year.”

“It’s not usually like this,” Walt said. “Tallow is
notoriously expensive. The fat all has to be imported from Newick, and the
Tallow Chandlers Guild keeps a tight lid on production. My grandfather
says—”

“Shh,” Ashton hissed, his nose held high as he led them
forward.

One long wide table filled the length of the room. Walt bent
down and excitedly whispered more in Edwin’s ear: “Lady Nemain is here! That
explains the candles.”

Edwin followed Walt’s gaze and saw a thin woman with a long
thick braid trailing down her back. Most of her hair was black, but Edwin
caught sight of a few strands of gray. Her mouth was upturned in a wide grin,
and the candlelight played tricks with her eyes, which at the moment were
staring right at him.

On the table in front of her sat several large iron pots
filled with stews and bread. Headmistress Vanora stood next to Lady Nemain,
scowling. There were a few boys waiting in line in front of them, but Ashton
pushed his way forward, saying, “Move aside, move aside. Oculus coming through,
move aside.”

Walt and Edwin stayed behind, and Walt leaned over and said,
“You feeling all right, Edwin? You look tired. You’d think after that nap you
took you’d be well rested.”

“I’m fine,” Edwin lied, wondering where the spirit had
gotten off to. He hated to admit it, but it was right when it said he felt
better and physically stronger when it was with him. All around him, he saw
that the children’s eyes darted anxiously between him and Lady Nemain.

When he reached the front he found the remains of pork stew,
a basket still half-full of bread, and a pot of beans. “We are so glad to have
you here in Chardwick, Edwin. My name is Nemain. I think we’re going to be fast
friends, you and I.” The woman smiled down at him, while Headmistress Vanora
filled his plate with food.

“Erm, thanks,” Edwin replied. His thoughts were on the
beans. He got his food and left as quickly as he could.

At the table, he saw that Walt had saved him space. Ashton
sat on the other side of the table, visibly uncomfortable. Under his breath,
Walt asked, “Why has the Lady Nemain taken an interest in you? She never comes
here.”

“I thought she made the uniforms,” Edwin said.

“That’s charity,” Walt said. “As the Lucent’s ward, she’s
expected to set an example. It’s different. She never makes personal visits to
Hawthorne.”

Edwin shrugged. He and Walt hadn’t even started eating, but other
children were already finishing and walking up for seconds. Headmistress Vanora
seemed to begrudge these second helpings but said nothing in front of Nemain.
Three children passed behind him.

“There’s Sam going for more food. Sam and I are twins,” Walt
remarked.

Looking up, Edwin could only see two faces: those of a thick
muscular boy and a girl with pigtails. Behind them he saw the legs of the
third. The girl with pigtails turned to smile at Ashton, and Edwin caught a
quick glimpse of Sam.

“Don’t stare,” Walt added, elbowing him in the side.

“Sorry,” Edwin mumbled, feeling his cheeks burn red. “Is Sam
a boy or a girl?”

“What kind of question is that?” Walt asked indignantly.

Before Edwin could answer, Ashton spoke up from across the
table. He was gesturing aggressively at Edwin with a piece of bread in his
hand. “Why haven’t we ever seen you around, Edwin? The inn isn’t very far, and
even the Medgards come down from time-to-time.”

“I don’t know,” Edwin muttered, his voice cracking. Everyone
around him was hanging on his every word. “I asked every year to come down for
the winter fair, but they always said no. And when I asked about an
apprenticeship, they said an apprenticeship wasn’t something for boys like me.”

“So you’ve never been in the mines?” a young girl next to
Ashton asked Edwin. Edwin shook his head. “Lucky!” she exclaimed.

Holding his fork in midair, Ashton looked down at the girl.
“And why would never going to the mines make Edwin lucky?” he asked, and the
girl shrank back. “Are you dissatisfied with your work in the mines?”

The girl shook her head, clearly scared.

“Such thoughts are blasphemous. Do we need to have a
conversation with the Headmistress?” Ashton asked.

Walt flung a piece of bread at Ashton’s head. “Lay off,
Ashton. Everyone knows horrible things crawl out of those mines, and we all
know someone who has died in there.”

“Walter Morrisey,” Ashton screeched, his voice barely above
a whisper. He picked up the piece of bread off his lap. “Dead parents or no,
throwing bread across—”

“And what about your parents, Edwin?” Walt asked, dismissing
Ashton’s outcry. “Your real parents, I mean. I don’t think I’ve ever heard
anyone talk about your real parents, or why you were sent up to the Medgards’
inn.”

Before Edwin could answer a shadow appeared in the doorway,
and a bearded man with a cane hobbled inside. Headmistress Vanora rose.

“Master Carrion,” Headmistress Vanora said obsequiously. “An
honor, always. Two members of the Council is quite a rarity. What brings you to
the other side of Chardwick?”

The man frowned and scanned the room. “Which is the boy?” he
demanded. Edwin sank lower in his chair.

“Master Carrion, I hate to say, but this really isn’t
appropriate,” Headmistress Vanora began. No one else moved.

“The boy,” the man barked. “Edwin Medgard has no business
being here.”

“Master Carrion—” said Headmistress Vanora.

Lady Nemain rose and said, “Headmistress Vanora, if I may. Carrion,
the boy is safe here. Really, if we could talk about this later or—”

“It’s not the boy I’m worried about. He has no business—”

“That’s enough, Carrion,” Lady Nemain said evenly. “Now I
said we shall discuss this later. If you don’t mind, we’re in the middle of
dinner.”

Master Carrion’s face turned as red as his beard, and Edwin
thought he saw the man reach into his pocket and pull out a black vial. Edwin
blinked, and the vial was gone, presumably back in the man’s pocket. “The rest
of the Council will hear of this, Nemain.” With a huff he turned on his cane
and stormed out the door.

“I don’t see why people are so interested in you,” Ashton
declared, just loud enough so the people around him could hear. “You’re only
from the ledge, after all. It’s not like you’re from Newick. Now
that
would be something.”

“Don’t be jealous, Ash,” Walt said.

At the front of the table Headmistress Vanora cleared her
throat. “Hopefully that’s all the excitement we are going to see for one
evening. Finish up dinner, children.” She and Lady Nemain sat back down.

Edwin was picking at his food, but with everything that had
happened, he hadn’t touched his beans. Walt, it seemed, hadn’t either.

“These beans aren’t even cooked,” Walt complained after
taking a bite.

In a voice that said he was pleased with himself for knowing
such things, Ashton said, “I heard the cook tell the Headmistress that the fire
went out under one of the pots this afternoon. He didn’t even notice until it
was time to serve them.” The other children didn’t seem interested, and Ashton
regarded them with disdain.

Edwin scooped up a spoonful of beans but hadn’t even gotten
them to his mouth when he felt the spirit’s cold essence crawling up his pants,
trying to get his attention. Edwin quickly understood and whispered the word to
join. Then, finally taking in a mouthful, he let the beans dissolve on his
tongue. The spirit had been right. Edwin ate his beans ravenously and felt the
best he had in days.

At first Edwin thought the sound of Ashton’s snoring woke
him. But then there was a loud noise, like an explosion, and his bed shook. He
heard Walt bolt upright in his bed, and ask, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Edwin said. At the end of the room, Ashton
rolled over and smacked his lips, still snoring.

There was another loud screech that shook the building, and
Edwin saw a light appear under the door, followed by kids’ voices in the
hallway.

“Come on,” Walt said, jumping out of bed. Ashton opened his
eyes and looked around groggily, but before he could say anything, Walt and
Edwin were out the door, pushing their way past the other kids and down the
stairs. Everyone followed Walt’s lead, and they met Headmistress Vanora at the
landing, her disheveled hair covering half her face.

“Back upstairs, children,” she hissed, blocking their way.
“Chardwick’s under attack! Hide in your rooms.”

One girl gasped, another shrieked, and a little boy began
crying, but Walt smiled. “Attacked by what?” he asked, sounding excited.

Headmistress Vanora was visibly upset, and her voice shook. “I
don’t know—it’s just like all those years ago when that—that—
thing
—escaped
the mines. Now don’t argue with me. Upstairs!”

The kids behind Edwin and Walt began running back to their
rooms, but Edwin couldn’t move. His spirit had given him nightmares his entire
life, and he knew what had escaped the mines. Before he had time to think about
what he was doing, Edwin had run past Headmistress Vanora and was out the front
door, running barefoot over the snow-covered ground, not caring a bit about the
cold. He was surprised when he heard Walt yell, “Edwin, wait up!”

“Walt, what are you doing?” he cried. Back at Hawthorne, he
saw Headmistress Vanora standing at the door to Hawthorne yelling at them to
come back, but when another loud wail shook the village, she pulled her head
back inside and closed the door.

“Me? What are
you
doing?” Walt asked, catching up and
running beside him.

“I have to see what came out of the mines. I couldn’t wait
at Hawthorne. You?” He sensed his spirit following behind him, but it kept its
distance.

“Same reason. You didn’t think you’d get to have all the fun
alone, did you? And if you’re trying to get to that sound, you’re going the
wrong way. This road dead-ends.”

“Lead the way,” Edwin said, glad for the first time to have
met this new boy. He followed Walt through Chardwick’s narrow, twisting roads,
and was glad Walt didn’t ask him more questions. He wouldn’t have known how to
explain his fear of the mines, or his curiosity of what might come out of them.
Instead, Walt told him about the unusual decade of peace Chardwick had enjoyed
from mines, and Edwin got the impression Walt had been waiting a long time for
a night like this.

But the excitement in Walt’s voice gave way to caution as
soon as they got close enough to hear men yelling and barking commands at each
other. “We must be close,” Walt said. The roads were deserted, and all the
houses were shut up tight with not a light to be seen. “I wonder what it is. I
hope it’s a dragon!”

“Dragon’s don’t really exist, do they?” Edwin asked, but he
feared he already knew the answer from his spirit’s nightmares.

“Sure they do! My grandpa used to tell me all sorts of
stories about the old Chardwick—you know, back when it was fun and
interesting.”

 Walking hesitantly now, almost at a fork in the road,
Walt whispered, “I think they’re just around this corner,” but before they got
there, a building to their left came crashing down, throwing a cloud of smoke
into the air. Their mouths open, Edwin and Walt backed away as a giant head
appeared atop the rubble.

“What is it?” Edwin asked.

“Some kind of troll or ogre, I think,” Walt said, his voice
filled with awe.

The creature’s skin looked a sickly blue in the pale
moonlight, and it had two fangs curling up from its bottom lip, each as big as
Edwin’s whole body. When the creature rose from the rubble to its full height,
it was as tall as a three-story building.

“What are you kids doing here?” a man yelled, rounding the
corner. Blood was flowing freely from a gash on his arm, but he didn’t seem to
care. Four more men appeared, all carrying swords. “Get back to your homes!”

The creature yelled and swatted at the men with its huge
fist, but it was slow, and the men climbed up the fallen brick and circled it,
swatting at its legs with their swords.

“Edwin, what are you doing here?” a woman yelled. Edwin turned
and found Lady Nemain running towards him holding a big horn in her hand,
followed by at least twenty men and women, all with dead eyes looking past him
to the creature. They ran by him and Walt to fight the troll while Lady Nemain
added, “And Walter Morrisey. You should have better sense. Get Edwin out of
here—NOW!”

Sufficiently chastised, Walt said, “Come on, Edwin, let’s
go,” and he pulled Edwin away by the arm. The creature was thrashing on the
ground, trying with one hand to hit a villager with a huge door it picked up
from the rubble, and to pull itself back to its feet with the other. The last
thing Edwin saw before Walt dragged him around the corner was a woman chopping
at its face, taking off a portion of its long pointed ear.

“That was awesome!” Walt exclaimed as they made their way
back to Hawthorne. “You don’t think it’s a return of the Others, do you?”

“I-I don’t know anything about any of that,” Edwin said.
“The Medgards never talked about what goes on in Chardwick. But people could
have gotten really hurt… What if someone was in that house? And that thing…
maybe it just wanted to be left alone.”

“You feel sorry for a troll?” Walt laughed. “Even so, don’t
tell me that didn’t get your heart pumping. That’s what I want to be when I get
older—one of Chardwick’s guards, just like Nemain. I hope the mine is
opening back up!”

“Lady Nemain is a guard?”

“Yeah, don’t let her smile fool you. Nemain’s tough.”

As they got closer to Hawthorne, the cold finally seemed to
hit them, and they raced to get inside. Headmistress Vanora tried to yell at
them for running off, but everyone was so excited to hear about the creature
that she barely got a word in.

*   *   *

Edwin slept restlessly the rest of the night, and when he
woke up, his roommates were already up and in different stages of undress. Walt
was adjusting his shoes, and, seeing Edwin stir, said, “You’d better hurry up
and wash before the water’s brown.”

Edwin groaned and after a few minutes dragged himself out of
bed and to the washbasin, but he was too late. The water was already a thick
brown sludge. Up at the inn he would bathe infrequently, especially in the
winter, but he was grimy after the trip down the pass. Also, his hand was
starting to emit a unique smell, kind of like rotting meat, and he was worried
it wouldn’t be long before someone noticed, especially in a place as cramped as
Hawthorne. Still, even in the muddy water, Edwin was able to wash off most of
the dirt before he dressed and headed downstairs. He was eating a biscuit with
Walt in the common room, still talking excitedly about last night’s adventure,
when a strange sound befell the room, coming from the hallway.

The sound was getting closer, louder, and shriller. Walt
explained quickly, “It’s Vanora singing. I know, it’s the worst sound in the
world, but whatever you do don’t cover your ears. When Sam and I first got here,
I covered my ears and got triple cleaning duty.”

The sound reverberated down the hall, and Edwin fought to
control his face. Coming at them like a growing avalanche, Edwin felt even the
spirit’s presence recede further. It was almost bad enough to make him forget
his hand.

“That’s awful!” Edwin exclaimed. “Wh-why’s she doing this?”

Walt’s eyes grew wide. “The Medgards never sang the morning
song? Even my parents did, and they were less superstitious than most.”

Edwin shook his head. “When travelers from Newick stopped at
the inn, they always said Chardwick’s superstitions were silly. I think the Medgards
believed that too.”

“Well, don’t go saying that around Chardwick,” Walt said.
Headmistress Vanora still wasn’t at the door, so Walt added, “People here
believe the morning song drives away the evil mahrs that haunt our dreams at
night.”

“Mahrs?” asked Edwin.

“Yeah, you know, as in night-mahrs. It’s where we get the
word.”

“That sounds kind of silly, doesn’t it?” Edwin asked, but then
he thought of his own dreams and the spirit.

Walt shrugged. “There’s a lot of superstition built around
sounds and music. And we all know the Fury works through song, so not all the
old beliefs can be wrong.”

Before Edwin could ask what the Fury was, the doors to the
Great Hall opened and in came Headmistress Vanora. Her Oculi, Ashton and the girl
with pigtails, were in tow.

“Bravo,” said the girl.

“Yes, flawless as usual,” Ashton added. “We know singing is
a frivolous activity, but thank you again for indulging us.”

“For my best children I can make an exception.” Vanora was beaming
until she looked over, saw Edwin, and said, “You’re to meet Lady Nemain today. She’ll
be waiting for you on White Foot Way, not the mansion.”

“The—” Edwin started, confused.

“The
Lucent’s
mansion,” said Headmistress Vanora, seeing
his confusion.

“Where is White—” he began, but she had already turned
away to address the rest of the room.

“Everyone out now,” she bellowed. “It’s time to get to
work.”

Some children quickly took a last bite and others moved to
the wall to collect their bags; all were out of Hawthorne within a minute, and
the door shut with a loud metal clank behind them. Edwin stayed close to Walt.

Outside, the crowd began to gain life as they moved away
from Hawthorne. Edwin caught his own name, then those of Nemain and Carrion, and
he felt lucky that no one approached him. The idea of meeting so many new
people made him nervous, especially without his spirit nearby. Walt began
explaining his work in the mines, but Edwin was paying more attention to Walt’s
facial expressions. Walt was smiling and seemed cheerful enough, but every so
often his eyes would shoot daggers at one of the other kids; he wondered if it was
Walt who was keeping the others away.

The morning was still dark, but lanterns glowed brightly at
every corner. He could sense that his spirit was far away now, and feeling more
alone and vulnerable than usual, he wondered where it had gotten off to. But at
the same time, as he tried to outstretch his fingers on his hurt hand and
winced, he tried to convince himself that he was better off without it.

“Edwin?”

Edwin looked up. “Huh?”

“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said this whole time, have
you?” Walt said, and he playfully hit Edwin on the shoulder.

“No, I heard e-everything,” Edwin stuttered. His cheeks
burned, and he was painfully conscious of every inch of his short body. He knew
this feeling, and he knew his stuttering would only get worse the farther away
his spirit got.

“Then what’d I say?”

Edwin had only been half listening to Walt, but his words
came flooding to his consciousness. “You s-said that you worked in the mines
directly under M-Master Danagger, which everyone said was an honor s-since he’s
a member of the Council, but your parents had always said he was the Lucent’s
lackey. He always does as he’s t-told, and he never votes on the Council
without the Lucent’s say-so. Then you started talking about how much you hated
the mines. It stays cold all year and the work is backbreaking. Then you
started talking about the other day when you almost thought Master Danagger was
going to take you down a forbidden passage—wait, there’s a forbidden passage?”

Walt laughed. “So you were listening, you just weren’t
paying attention.”

“What’s the difference?” Edwin asked.

Walt gave him a queer look, but it vanished as quickly as it
came. “You know, Edwin, I think we’re going to be the best of friends.”

“Why’s t-that?”

Walt shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

Edwin tried to respond, but the words wouldn’t come out. He
wondered where the spirit was. He could sense it receding farther and farther,
and he was worried that he would start feeling dizzy if it went too far. Walt
must have seen the worry on Edwin’s face.

“Are you feeling all right today?” Walt asked.

“Sometimes I stutter. It’s embarrassing,” Edwin managed to
say, worried that the more he talked, the worse it would get.

“Don’t be embarrassed. Your stuttering seems to
come-and-go.”

Edwin shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. He wouldn’t be
able to explain the spirit and their strange connection, or all of the
creature’s taunting growing up and his constant fear that it would be found
out. Even as a child he knew he would be in serious trouble if anyone ever
found out about it.

Walt continued, “I thought it was because of last night. You
tossed and turned after we got back, like you were having really bad dreams. I
almost woke you a few times.”

Edwin tried to stay calm. “S-Sorry about th-that. I didn’t
say anything, did I?”

“No, it was all gibberish. And you don’t have to apologize
to me. I was just worried you were stuttering more because there was something
wrong. Nothing’s wrong, right? Besides leaving your home, moving to Chardwick,
seeing a troll or ogre or whatever, and meeting a lot of new people who seem
weirdly interested in you, I mean.” Walt smiled, and Edwin knew he was trying
to be light-hearted.

“No, nothing’s wrong. I don’t r-really mind the move to
Chardwick too much. It’s a lot of new p-people, but Hawthorne is fine, and the Medgards
and I were never really close. And I’ve been having the bad dreams for years.”