Dark Company (10 page)

She knew what was coming next: the jumping exercise. This time she would get it right. No reckless rides through time and space. Just a simple trip across the field with the rest of the recruits …

The Warriors filed to one side of the field in orderly ranks, creating ten lines. When it came time for Skylark to jump, she eased her mind and compressed her thoughts. She wouldn’t think of the mouse, trapped on some battlefield in another time. She wouldn’t think of the dead soldier, or the boy she once knew, or the man with the frozen eyes. No. She imagined herself a leaf on the water … a leaf on the water … and she jumped, neatly, cleanly, appearing on the opposite side of the field without incident.

It was clear she wouldn’t be able to go back for the mouse just yet. The pewter being was watching her with a hawk’s eyes after her impromptu and weaponless battle with the recruit on the sparring field. Whatever leniency it had shown the troops earlier had dried up completely, despite their success in the jumping exercise. They were forced to glide in formation, around and around the field, the lions moving in perfect step alongside their Warriors. Back and forth, high and low, swords raised, swords lowered, again and again, until it seemed like the drill would never end.

When at last the being was satisfied that the recruits had had enough, it dismissed them to their quarters. By this time, Skylark was nearly delirious with worry about the mouse. If the pewter being had noticed Sebastian’s absence, it didn’t indicate as much. And she wasn’t going to wait until it did. She hurried along, past Advisors with their wolves, past Messengers with their owls, past the glistening river where the willow trees trailed trembling fingers in the water. She didn’t stop to look at anything. She had to get to the Hall of Records to discover exactly where and when in time she’d left the mouse behind.

C
addy stared hatefully at the Russian girl sitting in front of her. “How could my father have been one of you?”

The girl adjusted her dark sunglasses, choosing her words carefully. “We are a collective of like-minded people. We’ve been gathering for generations, dreaming together to shape the new world.”

More vagaries, Caddy thought. If the girl had information about her father she’d better get to the point. “What does that even mean?”

The girl was unruffled by Caddy’s anger. “We work together to keep the Light strong and hold the Dark at bay,” she said. “We do this by changing the energy on the planet. Everything that exists—every rock and tree and animal—your very thoughts—has its own unique vibration or frequency. The Light reflects all frequencies. The Dark absorbs all frequencies. The Dark is the absence of Light. When we gather, when we work together, we focus on the frequency of light energy and amplify it with our intention to push back the Dark. We call this Dreaming. Our ultimate goal is to vanquish the Dark altogether, to create a world where evil does not exist. Your father joined us as a young man. He possessed … an unusual talent for the work.”

The idea of her father doing anything but drinking was ridiculous. “My father is an alcoholic. His only talent is hitting the bottle, which he does—a lot.”

“It wasn’t always that way. He came to us with many ideas. He was so hopeful.”

“How could you possibly know anything about my father as a young man?” Caddy said. “You’re not much older than me.”

The girl dismissed the question with another. “Do you know how your mother died?”

This was too much. How dare this girl mention her mother? She may as well have slapped Caddy in the face. Caddy’s voice was a knife. “Of course. A car accident.”

The girl seemed amused. “Are you sure?”

“What are you getting at?”

“The truth,” the girl said. “Your mother was murdered.”

Now Caddy had her. “No, she wasn’t. It was an accident. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“That’s what they want you to believe. It was a clever ruse.”

“My father believed it was an accident too.”

“He was protecting you from the truth.” The girl reclined in her chair. “Your mother was killed by Company men—”

She sounded even crazier than before. “And now you’re going to try to convince me that my mother was a Dreamer too. That’s an absolute lie.”

“The Company men didn’t kill her because she was a Dreamer. They knew that she wasn’t. They did it to …”—the girl searched for the right words—“… upset your father, to create a rift in the dream. And it did. That’s when he started drinking. Without him, our progress has been slow. And the Dreamers were suitably frightened.”

“That’s a great story,” Caddy said. “And then the Company men killed him too. So, where’s the body? How did they do it?” The girl stared back at her. Caddy wanted to laugh. “You don’t even know.”

The girl’s mouth twitched, and Caddy thought she had her. She quickly regained her composure. “There’s a small possibility that he’s hiding. Though we are almost certain he’s dead.”

Her words cut Caddy to the bone, but she refused to believe her. “Why?”

“Because he hasn’t contacted us.”

And you were hoping he’d contacted me, Caddy thought. “What makes you so sure the Company men killed him?”

“They were there when you arrived at the address you found. Why do you think that is?”

“And now you think they’re after me?”

The girl didn’t answer. Was she weighing the value of telling the truth? Caddy wondered. Or simply formulating another lie?

“We believe they wanted to eliminate the possibility of substitution,” she finally said.

“Substitution? What’s that?”

“Dreams have a unique signature, like a fingerprint. For years the collective worked together, weaving the dreams of many people into a whole, into a stronger frequency, as the colours of the spectrum entwine to create white light. This is not easy. It’s difficult to work the individual strands of the dream into a unified vision. Each Dreamer carries one thread. If we lose a Dreamer, it sets us back. The thread is broken and the dream cannot hold. It cannot manifest. Working someone else into the fabric takes time. The Company men know this and have been systematically cutting the threads. At first, we simply replaced them. We can no longer afford the luxury. We’re too close to the brink. The Company men are more organized than ever, more aggressive. But we’ve discovered that the sons and daughters of Dreamers have the ability to … step in for their parents. They bring a similar thread, a similar signature. It’s much faster and efficient to work this way, although some are better at it than others.”

“Are you someone’s daughter?” Caddy asked.

The girl rested her elbows on her knees. “Yes. And
you
are someone’s daughter.”

At last Caddy understood. They were recruiting her—whether she liked it or not. “No! I can’t do this! I don’t want to.”

“You are the child of a Dreamer,” the girl said. “A most important one. We know you’ve had visions before—just like your father. This is a very rare skill. A gift. You simply need to learn how to control your ability. We can teach you how.”

Caddy buried her face in her hands. How could any of this be happening? “No.”

“You are frightened. I understand. It’s not easy to hear these things—to comprehend the magnitude—but hear it you must. We can no longer afford to be polite. We cannot wait for people to come searching for us the way we used to. The Dark is baying at our heels. I cannot emphasize enough that we’ve almost run out of time.”

Caddy’s voice shrivelled to a whisper. “I can’t.”

“We’ll take you there, so you can see for yourself,” the girl offered. “You’re not alone. None of us are. We need each other—now more than ever.”

“Take me where?”

“To a gathering of the Dreamers.”

Red stepped from the shadows, the black bag dangling from his hand.

Caddy jumped to her feet. “Don’t put that thing on me!”

“Please,” the girl soothed. “It’s for your own safety. If the Company men catch you, it’s best you know as little as possible.”

“How can I tell them anything?” Caddy said. “I don’t even know your name. What good could I possibly be to them?”

The girl stood, as graceful as a swan. “I’m Alexandra. But people call me Hex. And you are Cadence. But people call you Caddy—except for your father. Cadence was his favourite name.” She offered her hand.

Caddy refused the girl’s overture. “It isn’t fair that you know so much about me and I know nothing about you.”

Hex lowered her hand and smiled. “I understand. I hope you will come to trust me in time.”

Caddy could see the faint edge of Hex’s empty eye socket through the dark lenses of her glasses. Surely she had suffered. Perhaps it made her uncompromising. All the same she couldn’t be trusted. This play at intimacy was just another trick, Caddy thought. Hex had her trapped.

She didn’t struggle when Red placed the sack over her head, leaving the cord loose. She would bide her time and wait for an opportunity to escape—the first chance possible. He led her from the room and down some kind of corridor, Caddy taking small, cautious steps. A door opened and she could smell gasoline again. Red guided her into the back of a vehicle and buckled her in. He pushed her down on the seat and covered her with a blanket.

“I can’t breathe,” she said. “It’s hot. I don’t like it.”

“It’s only for a short while,” the girl promised. “It’s for your own safety. Please, remain calm.”

The engine started. Caddy clutched her safe stone. There was the mechanical whirr of a garage door opening. The sunlight was warm against the blanket. The car left the garage and wove through the streets. No one spoke. Caddy’s head bounced lightly against the seat as she mouthed the words of her song, her stomach churning. She never did well riding in cars. She reached inside the hood to scratch her nose and held the sack open so she could get some air. Her mind raced. Would they kill her after all? And what of her father? Was he really dead? She started to panic, her breath coming shallow and fast. To control her thoughts, she counted traffic stops. After thirteen, the car pulled over and her door was opened. They removed the blanket, but to her dismay they kept the hood on and escorted her into another vehicle.
More stops and turns, and then a long, unbroken stretch. She was about to mutiny when the girl spoke.

“You can sit up now.”

Caddy ripped the hood from her head. Cranking the window open, she gulped mouthfuls of fresh air, the wind tossing her hair around her face. They were on a back road, moving away from the city. Red was driving. Hex sat next to him in the passenger seat. A fence raced the car along a grassy field, the cedar posts a blur. Caddy checked the door. It was locked. Childproof. No chance to jump out.

“Where are we?” she asked.

No answer.

They made a right turn onto a gravel road, the tires kicking up a storm of dust. After several minutes, the grey hump of a barn appeared against the sky. Red slowed the car and turned into the laneway. The place seemed abandoned. The lane was grown over with tall grass that brushed past the windows as they drove. There was no house, just the gap-toothed hulk of the barn and nothing else for miles.

Red stopped the car at the end of the lane and released the lock on the doors. “You get out here.”

Caddy didn’t move. Was this it? Was this where her life would end?

“Let’s go,” Hex said. She left the car and walked toward the barn.

Caddy got out, eyes searching the field. The wind hissed through the grass in billowing waves. What if she were to run? Would she have a chance? Without a second thought she shot down the lane, arms pumping, feet flying over the ground. Red was on her like a dog. He tackled her, Caddy’s bandaged hands grating through the gravel. He seized her by the arms and shook her.

“Stupid girl.”

Blind fists swinging, teeth clenched, she grappled and fought. He shook her harder.

“I’m trying to protect you,” he growled.

Exhausted, Caddy surrendered, her arms dropping helplessly to her sides, her face crumpling as she sobbed.

Red yanked her to her feet, and for the first time since he’d dragged her through the tunnels she looked him in the face. There was a ferocity in his eyes that made her heart pound in her throat. But there was more. A glint of earnestness she hadn’t seen before, as if he were trying to convey something to her, something he didn’t want Hex to see. She began to speak and he shook his head, just enough to silence her. What was he offering? An unspoken pact? A secret alliance? She needed to believe it. She had no choice. Wiping the tears from her face, she allowed him to escort her to the barn.

Hex waited at the door, her face wooden. “You are only making things more difficult for yourself,” she said.

Red pushed Caddy into the barn and left her at Hex’s mercy. Whatever connection they’d had moments ago was gone. She started to doubt herself immediately. Maybe she’d just imagined it.

“Come,” Hex said. “The Dreamers are inside.”

The barn was dark and smelled of dust and hay. Through the gloom, Caddy could make out the phantom shapes of wooden stalls. They were empty, but there was a rustling sound coming from somewhere. Hex brushed past, glasses still on, and beckoned Caddy to follow. She stopped at the foot of a small ladder that led to the hayloft, stepping to one side.