Dark Company (36 page)

With great effort, Francis morphed into his human form and surveyed the destruction.

“I’m afraid we’re not doing very well,” Timon said.

“We have to get back in there.” Francis attempted to stand on his own, Skylark flying to his aid when he nearly fell again. The black stain where her arrow had punctured his thigh was seeping through his jeans.

Kenji helped him upright. “You’re not going anywhere, old man.”

Skylark clenched her fists, wracked with guilt. “This is all my fault,” she said. With a missile blast she shot into the air, streaking across the sky toward the black column.

Timon cruised up beside her. “Let’s work together. Aim for the Speaker.”

They charged, Timon driving forward with a wall of light while Skylark released a battery of arrows. One penetrated the dark energy, hitting the Speaker in the face. There was an electric snap, and the buzz of current spiking as the beast broke from the column. He convulsed, growing in size, a whirlwind of lesser demons orbiting around him. Skylark swept in like a fighter jet, arrows raining from her bow. The demon bellowed with rage.

“Get back!” Timon shouted, cannons firing. The Speaker screeched and struck, hitting Timon in the chest and punching the light from his body. Timon rolled and flipped, plummeting lifeless from the sky.

Skylark attacked, firing arrow after arrow. With every shot, the Speaker swelled and grew. He sliced the air with his giant arms, Skylark dodging the blows, until all at once he connected. She fell, her body paralyzed from the impact, the Ephemeral tumbling away from her as she hit the ground, blasts of light exploding in her head. Arm outstretched, she strained to reach the bow, the monster towering over her. Silver lay just outside her grasp, wounded and beaten, scrolling helplessly through its colours. This is how I will die, Skylark thought, fingers inches from my weapon. “Come on, girl,” she pleaded, trying to raise the bow. “Get up, Silver … please, get up.”

The Ephemeral retreated inside its cloud of mist. The demon hissed as it drew back its fist and swung.

Skylark abandoned the bow, cupping her hands above her chest, teeth clenched. “Eat this,” she snarled. A supernova detonated from her palms, burning through the air and smashing the demon in the mouth. The beast howled, collapsing in on itself in a cyclone of rain and black ooze that sucked the Dark in. Skylark shielded her eyes, the cyclone circling tighter and tighter, the wind roaring, dark entities wailing. With a dying shriek, the cyclone vanished, leaving a heavy black scorch on the ground.

Skylark struggled to her hands and knees. Retrieving the Ephemeral from its mist, she drew it tenderly over her battered shoulders. The bow curled around her, purring against her back. “It’s okay now,” she said. “Everything’s okay.”

Labouring to her feet, Skylark looked across the field, every light molecule in her body sinking when she saw the devastation. Before her, stretching to the horizon and far beyond, was a blackened wasteland of mangled bodies and shattered swords. Lions lay next to their Warriors, their charred remains burning. Nightshades swept through the desolation, searching for dark souls that may have been left behind.

Skylark limped through the carnage, holding the Ephemeral close. When she found Timon she fell to her knees and cradled his body in her arms. Francis and Kenji straggled over, looking broken and grim. Francis pulled his hat from his head, his jaw clenching with emotion. Kenji removed his glasses, his face sober, resolute.

“He saved my life,” Skylark sniffed.

Francis turned away, overcome. He kicked the scorched spot where the Speaker had stood and three small glass vials rolled from the ashes.

The sun teased Caddy awake, shining through the branches of the hemlock. The rain had stopped. She’d slept through the night. Where were April and Dillon? She called for them.

“Over here,” a voice answered.

They were beside a stand of birch trees. April was nursing her broken arm, looking drawn and pale. Dillon was hunched over something. He rose, stepping somberly to one side so Caddy could see, though she already knew.

Poe was bruised beyond recognition, and his clothes were bloody and torn. Caddy knelt next to him, unable to summon the
tears she needed to cry. She pried the knife from his fingers and buried it in a hole she dug in the ground with a stick. Gathering stones, she set them carefully around him. Dillon joined her, and even April gathered as many as she could manage with her broken arm.

After Poe was covered, Caddy pulled the small sack of wheat seeds from her bag and sprinkled some over his grave, saying nothing. No one spoke. There were no words adequate to the task. They held the silence while Caddy returned the remaining wheat seeds to her bag and tied it closed.

“What do we do now?” April asked.

They expected her to make a decision. Caddy pressed her hand over the gold medallion around her neck. She could feel the warmth of it, the life. She hoped she could be half as brave as Zephyr. “We keep moving,” she said.

“What about food and water?” Dillon asked.

“We collect them where and when we can.”

“And then?”

Caddy squinted at the sunlight dancing off the leaves. “We search for survivors, for others like us. We keep the Light and plant seeds, to make the earth whole again, to build a place to call home.”

B
eneath the diminished light of a once brilliant sky, the bodies of the dead stretched out, row on row. There was no fanfare. There were no ribbons or heraldry. Throughout the city, the repair work was halted as the ceremony began. Skylark stood with the multitudes on the practice field to send off the fallen. Joining voices, the crowd struck a note. The sound rose, gathering in intensity, the bodies vibrating with the frequency, ascending with the sound.

“Be brave,” Skylark whispered as Timon’s body shimmered and was gone. “What will happen to his Light?” she asked Francis.

The cowboy rolled the brim of his Stetson through his fingers. “It’ll wait along with the rest of the souls who were taken.”

“Wait where?”

“Between the Frequencies.”

It was her worst fear. She’d hoped for something better. “What if we can’t get it back?”

“We will,” Francis promised.

If only she could feel so sure. Her wound started to ache. She rubbed her shoulder to alleviate the pain. “It isn’t over, is it, Fran?”

He put his hat on. “Not by a long shot. We may have won the battle, but I expect we’re nowhere near winning the war.”

Skylark looked at the glass vials in her hand. Poe’s was blue. The other, the one that held Sebastian’s soul, was the most beautiful shade of violet. Kenji had a similar vial, only his was the richest shade of green. He nodded at her, indicating that it was time.

“They’ll regenerate once they rejoin the Light?” she asked.

“Yes,” Kenji said. “Their energy will reconfigure itself.”

“We won’t recognize them anymore.”

“Their imprint may not be the same. But their souls will have been saved.”

“Let’s get this done,” Francis said. “No sense keeping them from the Light any longer than we have to.”

Kenji raised the geisha’s vial.

“Wait,” Skylark stopped him. “What was her name?”

Kenji removed his glasses, his blue eyes ringed with grief. “Sakura,” he said. “Her name is Sakura.”

“Sakura,” Skylark repeated.

“It means cherry blossom.” Kenji broke the vial, Sakura’s green mist twirling into the air. “I release you,” he said, letting her go at last.

Skylark held Poe’s soul vial to her chest. She would never see him again. But he was free. Her lips trembled as she spoke. “I release you.” With a quick breath in, she snapped the glass. Poe’s blue mist swirled before her in a little tornado and vanished.

Kenji placed his hand on her shoulder. Francis looked at her expectantly.

“There’s one more thing you need to do,” he said.

Skylark stared at the purple mist inside Sebastian’s vial. She wasn’t ready to give him up. Not yet. Not here on this barren field with the multitudes of nameless soldiers.

“You can’t keep him forever,” Francis said.

She sniffed. “I know. I’ll do it … It just needs to be right.” She looked into his blue eyes. “How did you lose your totem, Fran?”

The cowboy lowered his gaze, his beard quivering. “The Speaker got him.”

“Oh.” At least she’d got Sebbie back. As much as it hurt to let him go, she knew she was the lucky one.

“Promise me you’ll do it,” Francis said. “It isn’t fair to keep a soul trapped, no matter how much it hurts to say goodbye.”

“I will,” she promised.

After the ceremony, Skylark wandered through the city streets, a heartsick spirit. Everywhere, beings were mending and cleaning and planting. It seemed an insurmountable task to rebuild things. She stopped at the spot where the little garden had been, hoping to release Sebastian there. It was as black and devastated as the rest of the city. She wanted green, somewhere familiar. And then it came to her.

Skylark touched down in the field by the maple tree, the one where she’d lost Sebastian before. There was a gentle breeze and the birds were singing. Sitting on the rock beneath the tree, she raised the vial. The sunlight winked against the glass. “Goodbye, dear friend,” she said, releasing the mouse’s soul. Sebastian’s violet mist whirled with the breeze. It climbed, mingling with a flock of tree swallows winging overhead. A young male swooped down and landed on Skylark’s hand, its blue wings catching the light. It cocked its head, studying her with mischievous eyes.

“I expect you’ll have a harder time losing me now,” it said.