Seeker

  “There’s more, Gideon. Watch.”

  Three of the trees near us are shaking, their leaves and branches shuddering. A familiar burnt smell flows into my nose, and pressure builds in the air. A splintering sound cracks into the night, stopping my heart, as the bark splits down the center.

  Inside, the wood is glowing red. Slender black figures are cocooned within the bark of each tree. They begin to unfold and bend, pulling themselves free. Turning empty eyes toward Samrael like they’re awaiting their orders. Because that’s exactly what they are doing.

  “I’ll summon you when I need you,” he says, and they scurry off, melting into the darkness.

  “What did you just do?” Something sickening just happened—something sinister. I feel it.

  “Whenever I conjure something, they’re created,” Samrael replies. He sounds almost somber. “The larger the haunting, as you call it, the bigger the price. Turning that lake to ice took acreage to create. I can show you sometime. Thousands of trees, gone. Thousands of Harrows, spawned. That’s the trade. It’s a trade I can’t stop … it’s an addiction.

  “You have no idea how it feels to be able to will something into existence, even temporarily. The draw to the power is irresistible. But it’s not an endless supply. I’ve seen the edge of these woods. They end, and there’s nothing more beyond them. When I burn through them, there will be no more left. At the end, I’ll have created an army that has to destroy, is made for destruction, but has no opponent. No aim. Can you imagine what happens then?”

  “Anarchy,” I say. “They’ll turn on each other. And you. You’re destroying yourself.”

  “Utterly. Now you know why I can’t stay here.”

  “Sucks for you. But you’re not going anywhere.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if you could see Daryn and me together.”

  “Why did you show me this? Do you expect me to be impressed? You want me to congratulate you on creating the evil army you’ve always wanted? Well congrats, man. You’re on your way to world domination. Best of luck with this shit show.

  “You know how pathetic you are, right? You do realize you’ll lose control of this? Even if you do get out of here with your Harrows, you’re never going to be satisfied. You’re always just going to be a miserable demon, trying to find meaning in all the wrong ways. You wouldn’t know happiness if it stared you in the face, Samrael.”

  He almost looks confused, or like what I just said actually cut deep. Then he shakes his head like he’s coming out of a mental fog.

  “I don’t care what you think of me,” he says defensively. “Now move, rider. I have to get back. I’m meeting Daryn for dinner.”

  As we retrace our steps through the corridors, I barely notice the aches in my leg. Something keeps nagging at me. By the time I’m back in my cell, I can’t stop thinking about it.

  “Daryn has seen her mother twice in hauntings,” I say as he turns the key, locking me back in. “But I’ve never met her mother. I have no idea what she looks like, or how she speaks—none of that.” I think of the couch and the canoe—other things that we came across that I’ve never seen before. “There’s no way you got that information from me.”

  Samrael smiles. “Ah, good. You’re paying attention. Keep going. You’re almost there. If I wasn’t the one, then who…?”

  “Daryn.” The blood in my veins freezes over. “She can do what you can. Conjure things.”

  “Correct. She’s been doing so inadvertently. She did it only yesterday. She gave me back my wings for a moment, and didn’t even realize she’d done it. And you’ll recall the yellow house? Where your father died? I had something special planned for you. Everyone who matters to you was going to be on that roof. Your father, your mother. Your twin sister. Daryn and your friends. Imagine how you’d have felt, seeing the end of all of them, one by one. Stepping off that roof. Powerful, isn’t it? We both know your father’s death has haunted you so. But before I could complete my vision, she interfered. She saw your worst fear and, I can only suppose, imagined her own. Imposed it. That haunting wasn’t only my doing, Gideon. It was ours. Me and Daryn.”

  “Daryn would never have wanted to see what we saw.”

  “Of course not. But that’s a conscious decision. The subconscious mind is a deep-running current. People are rarely fully aware of their thoughts. But she’ll discover the truth eventually. Soon, she’ll know about herself. Then she’ll put the rest together and know about me. I can’t allow that to happen. I need her trust to get out of here. And I need it because…” He pauses. “It’s become important to me.”

  “You want her trust, so you’re going to keep lying to her? Good approach.”

  “It’s flawed. Believe me, I know it is. If there were an alternative, I’d take it.”

  “I’ve got an alternative. Open this gate and I’ll show it to you. I can do better than just conjure your death. I can make it real.”

  He smiles. “Well. I imagine you’ll only be more motivated when you see your horse—or I should say, don’t see him? He was making too much noise, Gideon. I made plans earlier to have him taken elsewhere. I couldn’t risk Daryn hearing him upstairs.”

  I look to Riot’s cell. It’s empty.

  Samrael walks away as I lose my mind.

  CHAPTER 39

  DARYN

  90. Arriving at a very difficult conclusion, after much thought and consideration.

  I close my journal and set it on the nightstand. Then I sit back against the pillows and watch the last glowing embers in the fireplace.

  I believe Rael.

  At dinner tonight, we had great conversations again.

  He talked openly about his regrets. How he’s used people. Manipulated them. Hurt them.

  Whenever he tried to stop, Ra’om was there to torture him physically or mentally to keep him in line. But still, it doesn’t change the fact that he did awful things as a member of the Kindred—and hates himself for every one of them.

  My regrets feel so minor by comparison, but I still feel like I have a lot in common with him. How long did I wait to come here for Bas? How much have I regretted that day I lost him? And how could I have left home like I did without telling my family?

  We’re both trying to find our way back after straying from our paths.

  We’re both trying to move on from big mistakes.

  My mistakes deserve to be forgiven—I have to believe that.

  And if I deserve forgiveness, then why shouldn’t Samrael?

  There isn’t a sliding scale for that kind of thing, is there?

  I close my eyes, realizing what this means. Maybe I will let him leave the Rift.

  I’ll retrieve the orb, and maybe I’ll let Rael out, but I’ll stay here until I find Gideon. I’ve been going out with the search parties daily. It’s only a matter of time before we find him.

  I toss and turn in bed, too anxious and worried to sleep. Doubt won’t leave my body, and I’ve grown used to Rael’s company. It’ll be strange to be here without him. I think I’ll miss him.

  Finally, after an unsuccessful hour of trying to get myself to settle down, I climb out of bed, deciding to try Mom’s trick for sleepless nights. A glass of milk might help me.

  I dress, loosely tying the laces of my boots, and slip downstairs.

  As I reach the foyer, voices in the kitchen stop me short. Their hushed tones send me instinctively into a corner. I listen, staring at the column of warm light pouring through the kitchen door.

  “I’m telling you. He won’t eat bread,” Torin says.

  “How’d he survive before he got here? Size he is, he looks well fed,” says Rayna.

  “He eats things that aren’t bread. Give him more of the roasted chicken.”

  “Fine. So picky. Am I to slice this for him, too?”

  “We ain’t givin’ a prisoner a knife, Rayna. Besides, even if he had a knife, how’s he to cut with that metal hand?”

  I slam my hand over my mouth to keep it in. The
relief. The shock. The euphoria. Then the sickening, sickening betrayal that crawls through my stomach.

  They keep talking, but a shrill sound has risen in my ears.

  Gideon is here?

  A prisoner here?

  A door whines, and a cool draft sweeps out to me, carrying the scent of herbs and spices. I instantly recognize that smell. I know where they’re going.

  Their conversation fades to silence. I don’t move. I keep myself pressed against the wall, but a wild strength kicks to life inside me, filling my muscles and mind and heart with singular purpose.

  Ten minutes later—every second interminable—Torin and Rayna return to the kitchen. They snuff out the candles, the room falling into darkness in gradations. As they exit for their home through the garden door, they take the last candle with them, leaving the kitchen moonlit and blue.

  Finally. I count to twenty and dart through the kitchen, into the storeroom. I lift the door to the cellar an inch at a time to prevent its loud creaking. Then I climb into the darkness, shut the door above me, and immediately start running.

  When I came through these corridors, I got an idea of how extensive they are, and I plan to cover every square foot. I have to find Gideon before the sun comes up and someone discovers me missing.

  I navigate the turns through sheer faith, racing down steps and turning down corridors. The minutes tick past, but I never slow or feel panicked. Every move I make feels right. At a junction, I go left and come to a series of barred stone alcoves. They’re dungeonlike and dismal, and I’m positive this is where I’ll find him.

  “Gideon?” I lift a lamp off its hook and run to the first one.

  He’s inside. Sitting on the floor. His arms are crossed over his knees, and his head is bowed.

  “Gideon, it’s me.”

  He looks up sharply. Blinks hard, his eyes narrowed at the brightness of the lamplight. He lifts himself up and stands perfectly still for a moment, giving me a long stare like he’s not sure I’m real.

  “The key,” he rasps. “It’s on a hook on that wall.”

  I grab it with trembling hands, open the gate, and fly at him. Joy fills me like a sun, shining inside me. Bright and powerful. “You’re alive. You’re okay.” I kiss his lips, his cheeks, his nose. There’s no way to feel enough of him; I will never satisfy my need to touch him.

  The chains binding his wrists jangle as he takes my face in his hands. The tears in his eyes almost break me. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again.”

  “I knew I’d see you.”

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He drops his forehead against mine. “I was so worried about you.”

  “Gideon, we have to get out of here. I hid the orb. We can find it and—”

  “Daryn, wait. We can’t leave. Samrael has the orb. He has Riot somewhere, too.”

  The blood drains from my head so fast I sway. “He took the orb?”

  “Right after you hid it in the hollow of the tree.”

  “How—how do you know this?”

  “I was there, Daryn. I saw it. There’s a lot you don’t know. The Harrows are Samrael’s. The hauntings are, too. He’s doing it all.”

  The full weight of the betrayal hits me, and it feels like the earth is giving way beneath me. Like the haunting Gideon and I went through when we fell for what seemed like forever.

  All of the fruitless search parties and his promises. All of the things he’s been confiding in me. All of it is fake?

  “The Harrows are the consequence of the hauntings,” Gideon explains. “Evil creating evil. A cycle of it. He’s addicted to the power—but it’s finite. He’ll self-destruct in time and he knows it.”

  “That’s why he wants to leave.”

  He nods. “Probably to continue his work with the hordes he’s created. Take the destruction beyond the Rift.” He steps back and runs his hand over his mouth. “There’s something else, Daryn, and you may not like this, but … he said you have the same ability. He called it conjuring. He said you could do it, too. That you’ve been doing it.”

  The walls begin to collapse around me. Gideon keeps talking, but I shut my eyes and breathe. I see the flowers, and Mom, and try to think. Try to remember and understand.

  Did I will them into being?

  Did I make them exist without knowing it?

  Suddenly, it’s too much.

  I rush to the water bucket in the corner and lean over it as my stomach clenches. All of my muscles are shaking. “I can’t tell,” I gasp. “I can’t tell if I’m going to throw up or pass out.”

  Gideon is beside me, pulling my hair back. Placing a strong grip on my shoulder. “I’m right here. We can handle either one.”

  I breathe and breathe, pushing back the sobs, the terror. This is the power Samrael covets? I haven’t even used it—not at will—and I loathe it. Abhor it.

  I want to step out of myself.

  I’m so scared—of myself.

  How is that even possible?

  When I’m no longer fighting the urge to be sick, Gideon guides me to the wall and we sit. He lifts his arms. I loop under the chains and rest against him, drawing from his strength.

  We’re quiet for a while. I shut my eyes and feel the pulsing in my mind—the headache I first noticed in here. I now know what it is—this ability I have in here to conjure. Seconds pass, and I’m afraid to open my eyes. What if I do, and see that I’ve conjured something into being?

  Gideon clears his throat. “Someday I’m going to take you out. We’ll do something extremely normal. Like go miniature golfing or bowling.” I know he’s trying to calm me. To get me to think about better things. Better days. “We’ll go to the movies. See comedies and animated films only. Films with catchy songs in them and talking animals … Daryn, hey.” He waits for me to look at him. “We’ll figure this out.”

  “I know. I think I already know how.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll go back and search for the orb inside the house. If you’re still here, and nothing changes, Rael won’t suspect me. He won’t know I’ve been here. Once I have it, I’ll kill him. I’m going to kill Samrael for deceiving me and for hurting you.” They’re words I never thought I’d hear myself say. Ever.

  My fingers start trembling.

  “Daryn, don’t…”

  “Don’t what? Don’t be like you? Don’t hate like you do? You wanted this, didn’t you? For Samrael to die? Why is it okay for you to want revenge, but not me?”

  “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I am hurt! He lied to me. And look at what he’s done to you. He pushed me too far.”

  He doesn’t reply.

  And I’ve been here too long. “I have to go.”

  I kiss him and slip out from under his arm. He catches my wrist before I leave.

  “I love you, Daryn. I want you to know that.”

  Beautiful words. Amazing. But I never wanted to hear them spoken with such foreboding. With fear behind them.

  I bend down and kiss him again. “I’ll say it back,” I whisper. “I promise. But not here.”

  CHAPTER 40

  GIDEON

  I’ve managed to wade in and out of shallow sleep for a couple of hours when I hear footsteps carrying through the corridors. I run through the possibilities. Samrael. Cotton. Torin. Marcus.

  Marcus?

  I almost don’t trust my eyes when he rounds the corner, Bas right behind him.

  Marcus zeroes in on me immediately. He sets the scythe against the wall, unhooks the keys, and opens the cell door. He brings the base of the scythe down on my chains, breaking them, finally relieving the pressure on my wrists. Then he hugs me, quick and hard. The look in his eyes is fierce, contemplating the murder of the demon responsible for putting me in here, but Bas won’t make eye contact with me.

  “You all right to walk out of here?” Marcus asks. “Jode’s waiting for us with Riot when we get outside.”

  “How did you get in here?”
br />   “Later, G. We need to roll.”

  “Daryn’s upstairs.”

  “I know, man. We’ll regroup, then come back for her. Move.”

  We sprint through the stone heart of the hill. My leg has healed, so I can haul with Bas and Marcus. We’re climbing into daylight in minutes.

  Jode stands with the horses and Riot bobs his head when he sees me. I swing up into the saddle and rest my hand on his withers. “You scared me, Riot.”

  He lights up like a bonfire. Most of it was an act, but I’m glad to know you care. I do too, Gideon. It’s very good to be with you again.

  I almost feel as whole as when we fold.

  With Bas leading, we ride.

  He takes us to an abandoned stone house with a sagging roof. We bring the horses right inside with us; they almost fill the single room.

  Jode dismounts and climbs a wooden ladder to a loft. He sets himself up by a window with most of the glass panes missing, his bow within arm’s reach as he stands watch.

  Marcus moves to a boarded-up window, propping himself against the sill. Bas paces, his eyes down on the floor. Still no eye contact from him.

  I stay with Riot, and lean against him as I listen to the horses settling their breathing.

  I think the guys are waiting for me to speak, but I don’t want to explain everything again yet—what Samrael can do, and has been doing. Or what Daryn can also do and has been doing.

  “How’d you guys get back in without the orb?” I ask.

  “Isabel,” Marcus says. “She’s at base camp. Right after we came in here together, she showed up with the missing piece of the orb—the shard that broke off when Daryn used it the first time. She told Cordero to hold on, that this wasn’t over yet.”

  “She had that piece? And she used it to get you back in?”

  Marcus nods. “She can open the portal like Daryn. It’s a Seeker thing. I’m not even sure Daryn knew that. But, yeah. The broken piece was enough to get us back here. It’s like Isabel knew all along she’d need it. That we’d need it.”

  “She probably did know.”

  “Probably.”

  “How did you know where I was?” I ask.