Dark Company (29 page)

Francis stood. Kenji pulled himself up from his seat. Timon didn’t turn to see them off.

In the street, the temperature dipped. Dark drops as thick as oil plucked a tentative rhythm on the ground. Viscous starbursts the size of quarters stained buildings and cobbles. The sky broke open and the rain fell in a seamless curtain, the rivers and fountains of the city running black with it.

Skylark sharpened her focus, tracking Francis and Kenji to their headquarters. Francis was pacing back and forth. Kenji was leaning against the window ledge, brooding. He wiped a black smear of rain from his sleeve, rubbing it between his fingertips.

“I’m not gonna ask why,” Francis started in. “Or who or how. Just fix this mess with the woman, PDQ, and that will be the end of it.”

Kenji said nothing.

“I mean it, Kenji. I want this to end. Whatever human has you messed up, just cut it off—now—and nothing more will be said. But if I find out you’re still mooning over some woman, I’m going straight to Timon.” He continued to pace for the longest time, the black rain pounding on the window.

Kenji finally spoke. “I have an idea.”

Francis turned to him like a dog following a tennis ball. “Lay it on me.”

“We can protect the grey men.”

“What?” Francis tipped back on his heels. “They’re not the ones that need protecting.”

Kenji faced him. “Think about it. All of this started with the human that kid Skylark is so hung up on—he drew first blood.”

“No,” Francis said. “You can’t blame the boy for this. It’s my fault. If I’d taken you instead of Skylark, none of this would have happened. I exposed her to the Speaker. For all we know, that was his plan all along—to get us to bring her somewhere so he could get his hooks into her.” He pushed his hat to the back of his head. “Have you ever wondered why he didn’t take her soul and put it in a little glass vial for his collection when he had the chance? He let her come here and transform into some kind of super-frequency. He wanted her to evolve. Somehow he knew what she was and we didn’t. He wanted to take her at just the right moment and make her his own. And I walked right into it. I handed her to him with one of the most powerful weapons in the universe on her back. Now she’s out there with the Ephemeral, picking grey men off like fish in a barrel. The Speaker’s stronger than ever with her at his side. I’m the one to blame. It started because of me.”

“It started because of them,” Kenji said. “If it hadn’t been for the first grey murder, we would never have had the intelligence to know where the Speaker was going to be. That kid killed the
grey guy to protect his girl. Our guys picked the grey soul up and brought him here. We knocked him around for information and used it to meet the Speaker face to face. When he turned that arrow on Skylark and filled her with his poison,
he
changed the balance. I think he was just as surprised as we were that it had the effect it did. Now he’s running with it. The grey men know he has the advantage, so they’re choosing to obliterate their souls rather than risk giving up any more valuable information. They want to die. This has created an unprecedented rift in the Light that’s allowing more Dark in than ever. That, you could never have predicted. Ergo, it wasn’t your fault.”

Francis clapped at Kenji’s brilliant attempt at lawyering.

“Make a joke of it, old man. I’m dead serious,” Kenji said. “For once I’m not blaming you for our problems.” He stared at his blackened fingers, wiping them clean on piece of paper from Francis’s desk.

Francis straightened his Stetson. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re being all cozy with me. Makes me nervous.”

Kenji shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

“If you say so.”

“Why are you being all crusty about it?”

“I’m always crusty,” Francis said.

Kenji wadded a piece of paper from the desk and tossed it at him. “If you say so.”

They scowled at each other until Kenji withdrew and sat on the edge of the desk, serious again. “So … what if we stop the killing? Maybe we can keep things in a holding pattern while we figure out what to do next. Maybe something will happen to shift the balance back in our favour …”

“Like what? A miracle?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

“We’ll be fighting against Skylark,” Francis said.

“Not fighting—resisting. More Gandhi, less Attila the Hun.”

“What if he shows up?”

“We’ll distract him.”

“And then?”

“We wait for an opening, the same as he did.”

“What about the kid …?” Francis asked. “The one she’s interested in?”

“We’ll deal with him later, once this blows over.”

Francis looked out the window at the black rain. “This isn’t like before. We’re in some very hot soup.”

“I know,” Kenji said. “All we can do is try.”

Francis flopped into a chair. “Hell, what else have we got? Let’s give it a shot. But the minute we’ve got this in control, we’re taking care of your little problem …”

The connection faded and Skylark’s eyes fluttered open. A small part of her missed Francis and Kenji. But they intended to take Poe away from her—and the Ephemeral. She couldn’t let that happen. She jumped to where Poe lay on the ground. Cradling his head in her lap, she woke him with a kiss.

Inside the farmhouse, the group laboured to dream. Caddy saw the Light and moved toward it. It pulsed, throbbed. She broadcast her intention, imagining the green sprouts of life reaching upward. The Dark advanced, shrivelling stalks and blackening sky faster than she could possibly create. Caddy fell back, exhausted, and landed in the Emptiness again, her fingers trailing ashes. Faces closed in around her, hungry, moaning, cold. The wind clawed at her with icy hands, stealing the voice from her mouth.
The end is coming
, it said.

“T
he Light is leaving us,” Caddy whispered over the sound of the rain. The storm had come from nowhere and had been hammering the farmhouse for hours. The temperature had dropped along with rain. It made the house frigid.

“I know,” April said. “You’re doing better than the rest of us. Most can’t find the Light at all … I can’t find it.”

They were lying on the cold floor, facing each other, speaking in low voices over a candle to avoid waking the others. The flame flickered in April’s eyes. They were deep and warm, and fringed with dark lashes, like Poe’s. It made Caddy’s heart ache to look at them. She missed him so much.

“Tell me about your visions,” April said.

Caddy had wondered when April would get to this. It was a simple enough question. Except she worried the others blamed her for bringing the Darkness in. No one had said anything directly, yet. She could tell by the way they looked at her that they suspected something. She’d lied when they asked her where she went during the dreaming. She didn’t want to give them reason to turn against her. To be honest, even she had her doubts. Maybe
she
was
responsible. Could she trust April to keep her secrets? Or had Hex and the others put her up to this? Either way, she had to tell the truth. Sooner or later someone would figure it out.

“I call it the Emptiness,” she said. “It’s a place without life. Completely frozen. Not even the Light can live there.” She closed her eyes. She could see the mouths pushing through the ether. “There are souls, trapped for all eternity. They cry for help. They pray the Light will save them.”

“Will it?” April asked.

“I don’t know.” Caddy opened her eyes.

April stared back at her, terrified. “Why does the Emptiness keep taking you?”

Caddy sighed. “I think it’s a warning of some kind. It’s like the Emptiness is one possible outcome if we can’t stop the Darkness.”

“I’m scared, Caddy.”

She took April’s hand and squeezed it. “Me too.”

“Do you think there’ll be a war?”

“Maybe. It looks that way.”

“Hex said there’s a bomb …”

“Let’s hope it’s not true.”

April fiddled with the edge of her blanket, formulating a question she was seemingly reluctant to ask. “Is Poe to blame for the Darkness?”

“What? Why would you say that?”

April checked to be sure no one was listening. “I’ve heard rumours … they think Poe is killing them.”

“The Company men?”

“Yes.”

So it wasn’t her visions the others suspected. This was a relief. Still, Caddy was sure she’d be hanged by association. She’d stood in front of everyone and defended Poe. She didn’t regret it—not for a minute. She was sure now it was Poe she’d seen in the
meadow. If she’d seen him, chances are someone else had too. With the number of Company men killed, someone must be helping him. But who?

“Even if he was involved, he was only trying to protect us. He couldn’t possibly have killed them all.”

April planted her chin on top of her stacked hands. “They say it’s affecting the Light.”

“They don’t know for sure,” Caddy said. “They’re grasping at straws. The Darkness is growing everywhere. Whoever’s responsible for protecting us, I’m okay with it. How can we dream if we’re all dead?”

“They said the killings are good for us, but not for the greater good. The Company men want us to kill them. It gives them the advantage. It makes it difficult for us to reach the Light.”

“Do you blame Poe for that?” Caddy asked.

April shook her head. “No. I don’t want to die.”

“Me neither.”

Tears filled April’s eyes. “We’re all going to die one way or another.”

“Maybe from starvation,” Caddy joked, trying to change the mood. She rolled onto her side and pulled down the waistband of her jeans, exposing her hip bone. “These pants used to be tight.” She made a face.

April forced a smile. She lifted her shirt. “I have too many ribs. I wish I had some ice cream.”

“Don’t say ice cream … or ribs.”

“Ribs, ribs, ribs,” April whispered.

“You’re mean.”

“I know.”

Caddy covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “I want a shower.”

“With soap.”

“Hot water.”

“Shampoo.”

“A razor.”

“A toothbrush.”

Someone stirred. They froze, eyes locked. It was a false alarm.

“I’ve heard other rumours too,” April said.

“About what?”

“Hex … mostly.”

“Hex?”

“They don’t trust her.”

“Who?”

“Some of the Dreamers.”

“Really? Why?”

April shrugged. “I don’t know. If I’d asked, they would have known I was eavesdropping.” She raised her eyebrows.

“Right. Do
you
trust her?”

April thought about this for a minute. “I don’t know.”

Was she just being careful? Caddy wanted to tell her exactly what she thought of Hex but decided to be cautious. “I’m not sure if I trust her either. There’s something wrong with her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well … how is it that the Company men always know where we are? And why is Hex never here when they come?”

“For security reasons,” April said. “We can’t risk losing her.”

“That’s what they tell us. She could just be protecting herself. Maybe she’s not as dedicated to the cause as they’d like us to believe.”

“Yeah … but … what about …?” April pointed to her eye.

“We have no way of knowing if that story is true.”

“Why would she make it up?”

“To win us over,” Caddy said. “To convince us she’s sincere.”

“Why do that? Why pretend?”

“Because maybe she isn’t who she says she is. Maybe she’s really on the side of the Dark.”

April looked at her in alarm and Caddy knew she’d gone too far. She couldn’t stop now. “What kind of person kidnaps people and forces them to join their cause?”

“She didn’t kidnap me,” April said. “I was called, like everyone else here.”

“Oh.”

April’s disclosure drew them apart like rafters on an undertow. They floated in silence for a while, until Caddy threw a rope across the divide. She didn’t want to lose April’s confidence.

“I wish this rain would stop,” she said. “I’m so cold.”

April sighed. “Me too.”

“Can I tell you something?” Caddy asked.

“Sure, anything.”

“I miss Poe.”

“Like … really miss him?”

“Yeah.”

April rested her head in the nook of her elbow. She closed her eyes and stayed that way for so long, Caddy thought she’d fallen asleep.

“I think he’s beautiful,” she said at last, turning away from the light.

Caddy watched the candle gutter and die. She lay in the dark, unable to sleep, and was the first to hear the van coming down the road.

“April, wake up.” Caddy shook her shoulder. “The van’s coming. We have to wake the others.”

The Dreamers mobilized in an instant. Blankets were rolled. Food was gathered. There was no time to eat. They would eat on the way. They stood in the downpour, the cube van tearing along the road, its lights dimmed by the rain. It was 7 a.m. and the sky was heavy as wet concrete, blocking out the sun.

Behind the van, another set of lights came into view. And another from the opposite direction.

“Company men!” someone shouted.

Caddy and April ran into the field. The van careened up the lane, wobbled and flipped. A pickup tore past the upended van, a trailer fishtailing behind it. At the house, the truck skidded to a stop, the trailer gate fell open, and a cavalry of Company men burst out, their horses frothing. They barreled down on the Dreamers, hooves thundering, mud spraying, nets billowing. Caddy heard a whiffling sound, and a net ballooned and dropped. It hit April, taking her down in a jumble of feet and hands. The rider spurred his horse on, cinching the net with a rope and dragging her through the mud.