Dark Company (9 page)

The recruits listened intently, lions at their feet. The mouse was tickling the hairs on Skylark’s neck again. It was distracting.

“What’s the Unfolding?” she asked.

The mouse twitched his nose. “Well … the Unfolding is the evolution of the universe … which is only possible through the Light. The purpose of the Light is to create, and to allow everything within it to create, thereby allowing the universe to evolve and expand, and everything within it evolves and expands accordingly.”

He sounded just like the silver being. “Is something trying to prevent the universe from evolving?”

The mouse scratched behind his ear with one foot. “Yes. The Dark. It hates the Light and everything in it. It wants to destroy the Light.”

“Why?”

“To gain power.”

“So, how are things supposed to evolve without the Light?”

“They don’t,” the mouse said. “That’s the point. The Dark desires stasis, not growth. It wants to keep things frozen for all eternity.”

“Oh, of course.” She thought she had it. “So, Warriors fight the Dark to prevent it from gaining power?”

“Yes!” the mouse said. “But the Warriors only fight the Dark in this dimension … though any victory we experience here helps secure the Light on the earth plane.”

Skylark sighed. It was getting complicated again. “You mean, if we lose the battle here, the Dark can take control of the earth?”

“Kind of. It is up to us to control the Dark here, and for people on earth to control the Dark there. What happens here affects them there. What happens there affects us here.”

“What if they don’t control the Dark on earth?” Skylark asked. “What if people just give up?”

The mouse pondered her question. “Then it makes our job much more difficult. We really need to work together to help each other.”

The pewter being glided by, glowering at Skylark. She straightened herself and pretended to pay attention. As soon as it passed, she picked up where she left off with the mouse. “Why is everything so confusing here?”

“Don’t let it bother you,” the mouse said. “All you need to know is that the Dark is bad. The Light is good. You fight the Dark. Get it?”

Skylark made a face. “Yeah, thanks.”

The pewter being gave her another biting look before continuing its address. “The weapon of the Warrior is the sword and shield. Today, as you received your totem, so shall you receive your weapon. It will become an extension of you. It will bond with you as you bond with your totems and each other. It is a manifestation of your intention and an expression of the Light’s will.”

The being moved to one side to reveal endless rows of swords, scabbards, belts and shields, all bearing the lion insignia. “Recruits
with weapons stand to the left and wait until the others are finished the ceremony.”

The recruits lined up to receive their weapons, one after the other. They moved quickly, and once outfitted, gathered in a group to the left of the field.

“I don’t think there’s a shield with a mouse on it,” Skylark joked as she waited for her turn. She tried to peek over the shoulder of the recruit in front of her but it was too tall. When she reached the head of the line, there was a row of swords hovering in the air. She raised her hand to take the closest one and the sword flew away, clattering to the ground as if pulled by a wire. What was wrong with it? The pewter being stared at the errant sword, then pointed to the next. Skylark reached for it, and this sword flew away too, as did the next and the next, until a dozen swords littered the ground. The recruits watched with detached fascination as sword after sword flew away. Eventually, the pewter being grabbed a sword from the row and attempted to hand it to her. The sword sprang from her grip as though polarized. The being reached for a shield and tried to force it into her hands. It shot into the air and dropped, spinning on its edge before rattling to the ground. The recruits gaped in amazement.

“That will be enough,” the being finally said when it became apparent no weapon was willing to be hers. It held its hand up to silence the troops. “Please step aside and allow the others to complete the ceremony,” it told her.

Skylark moved to one side. The Warriors retreated, keeping their distance. She tried not to let it bother her, but she couldn’t control her thoughts.

“They’re afraid,” the mouse said. “They sense the confusion of the pewter one.”

“Is it confused?” she asked.

“Very.”

“So am I. What does it mean?”

“It means that this is not for you.”

When each recruit had a weapon, the pewter being called for order again. “Everything until now has been relatively easy,” it said. “From this point forward, you will face some very difficult challenges. We will test your mettle to the fullest. We will train you to be swift and bold so you can fight the Dark in all its forms. The Dark is your enemy. The Dark hates the Light. You are of the Light, therefore the Dark hates you and everything you stand for. It will not hesitate to cut you down so you must not hesitate to strike first. Your initial challenge is sparring. Fall into pairs.”

The Warriors quickly chose partners to avoid sparring with Skylark. She stood self-consciously to one side of the field, wishing she had blown up like the Nightshades during the initiation ceremony. The pewter being gave the signal and a riot of clanging swords and roaring lions ensued. By instinct, everyone knew what to do. Skylark watched with envy. What was her purpose if not to fight alongside the Warriors? Where did she belong? And what was the point of pretending to be a Warrior if she really wasn’t one? She let her thoughts stray to the boy. If only she could go back and be with him. The mouse pulled her hair the second she thought this.

“Ow!”

“Stay focused on the task at hand,” he scolded.

Skylark folded her arms and begrudgingly watched the recruits, trying to keep her mind from wandering. But whenever she got bored and let herself drift, the mouse would tug on her hair, until she wanted to knock him from her shoulder.

At last the pewter being gave the signal to cease fighting.

“Very good!” it said. “You have transitioned well. Your skills will improve greatly with training and experience, but for now you understand the principals of combat.” It glided along the ranks. “The next challenge is flight training. We call it jumping.
It’s a form of teleportation from one location to the next—without gliding. You will make ten lines and jump together in groups.”

Skylark loitered near the back as the Warriors formed ranks. Once the lines were established, she slipped into a space on the end.

“Being able to move quickly and undetected is a Warrior’s greatest asset,” the pewter being explained. “The Dark is fast and ruthless. We must therefore be faster and braver still. Your first jump will be a short one—to the other side of the field. Once you have mastered that, we will increase the distance. And don’t forget to include your totem in your flight equation. Expand your energy appropriately.”

The trumpet sounded and the first ten recruits jumped. They vanished for a second, only to reappear across the field.

“Well done,” the pewter being praised.

The next line of recruits performed equally well, as did the next and the next. A few unfortunates got misdirected, reappearing in the canopies of trees, or nearly landing on top of other recruits, but most were able to perform the task admirably.

When it came time for Skylark to jump, every eye was on her. She fought the urge to run, focusing all her intention on the point across the field.

“You can do it,” the mouse said. “Clear your thoughts.”

Her mind was in turmoil. To fail at such a simple task in front of thousands of her peers, especially after her disgrace during the Weapons Ceremony, would be humiliating.

“I’m a leaf on the water,”
she told herself, repeating the silver being’s words.
“A leaf on the water …”
The roaring filled her ears. The stream of stars in her head accelerated. There was a cannon blast, creating a light so bright the recruits cowered, covering their eyes. The light collapsed, and Skylark found herself standing on a city street in another dimension and time completely. A group of people gathered soberly around an old car. To one side
of the scene stood a beautiful man, dressed in an expensive grey suit, a slight smile pasted on his porcelain face. Skylark’s scarred arm flared with pain.

“Where are we, Sebastian?”

The mouse shook his head and looked around. “This isn’t right. We shouldn’t be here.”

Skylark glided cautiously into the street. It was an accident scene. Someone was crushed beneath the wheels of a car. There was a mass of bloodied hair. A bare foot stuck out from under the vehicle. And there was a shoe. A blue sneaker. Lying in the middle of the road. The pain in her arm was bone-splitting.

“I know this,” she moaned. “For some reason, I know this.”

The man in the suit turned, the sound of tinkling glass accompanying him as his frozen eyes met hers, shattering a hole in her consciousness.

Skylark staggered back, her mind spinning with images—the car, the lifeless girl beneath its wheels, the perfect man in his perfect suit—those horrible eyes! She’d seen them before, during her transformation. What torments had they witnessed? Who was this man and what did he want from her?

“We must go,” the mouse insisted. “Put it out of your mind and hold your thoughts on the practice field.”

Sebastian tightened his grip on her hair as Skylark forced her mind back to the training field and the hordes of recruits standing there. The roaring grew louder and the stars began to run. At the last moment, her mind tripped, and they hurtled wildly through the ether, landing with an undignified thud in the middle of a field. They looked around, dazed. Something was wrong again. The Warriors and their lions were nowhere in sight. Bullets and cannonballs flew through the air. Bodies of the dead and wounded lay everywhere. Men in uniforms—some beige, some blue—were strewn over the ground. Soldiers ran past, shouting and firing. The sky was black with discharged
gunpowder. Among the men, Carriers glided through the chaos, doves on their shoulders.

The mouse blinked against the musket fire. “This isn’t the right field,” he said. “This isn’t even the right dimension. We’re on the earth plane—in the Civil War. How did we end up here?”

Skylark floated over the trampled ground, the pain and terror of the men cutting through her. A wounded soldier lifted his hand to touch her robe. His gun lay next to him like an amputated limb. Blood dribbled from his mouth. “Please …”

Skylark knelt beside him. He was so young. Just a boy, really. No older than the boy she loved. His eyes settled on hers. “He can see me …”

“The dying can,” the mouse said. “It’s their soul’s quickening pace, vibrating in frequency with your own in preparation for the Crossing. You will come to understand this and control your response to it.”

Skylark could see the man’s spirit flickering at the edge of his physical form.

“My darling,” he murmured.

A shiver ran through her body. It thrilled and saddened her to hear such words from this dying man’s lips. Hadn’t she lost something similar? Hadn’t she once been held and loved? She groped for something to say, something to express the feelings she had for him in his pain. All she could say was, “I’m here.”

The man coughed and clutched his chest. Skylark opened his coat. The lapels flapped back, revealing a tattered, bloody wound, blossoming like a red flower across his shirt. He convulsed, once, and death stole the light from his eyes.

“No … please, don’t go.” Skylark cradled his head in her arms, grief and loneliness pouring over her. It was too much. Too much to bear.

Someone squeezed her shoulder. Skylark looked up and saw a yellow being standing over her.

“I am this man’s Carrier,” it said, placing the dove in the man’s hand. His spirit rose in a swirl of mist, entering the bird. The dove took to the air with its Carrier, its wings a blur of expanding light.

“We can’t stay any longer,” the mouse said.

Skylark clenched her fists, anger mounting. How could she reconcile such pain and loss?

“It is but a shadow,” the mouse explained. “A fragment of another time. You must let it go.”

“No!” she cried. “It isn’t fair!” She rocketed into the sky, a wall of light shooting from her hands. It hit the advancing armies, blowing men to the ground like leaves. The soldiers dropped their weapons, their faces lit with dread as they looked upon the terrifying face of divine retribution. Skylark soared higher and higher, corkscrewing through the air, the mouse clinging to her hair.

“Stop!” it shouted. “It is not your place to interfere. These scenes are already written!”

A group of Carriers swept in, forcing Skylark back with beams of light. She dropped to the ground, scrambled to her feet and jumped. Burning through the ether, she landed in the centre of the practice field, and just in time to dodge the crushing blow of another recruit’s sword. She was in the right place but at the wrong time—back in the sparring exercise. Swords rained down around her. Lions roared. Grabbing the arm of another recruit, Skylark wielded its shield to avoid several vicious blows then jumped from the fray and landed clumsily at the feet of another recruit. This one halted mid-strike.

“You have no weapon.”

Skylark stood and brushed herself off. The recruit looked at her scarred arm.

“Beings are talking,” it said. “The Council doesn’t know what to do with you. Some of the recruits think you’re a demon.”

She frowned. “And what do you think?”

The recruit looked at her dispassionately. “I think you’ve lost your totem.”

Skylark’s hand flew to her shoulder. It was true! In her rage, she must have lost the mouse on the battlefield! She had to go back. But how? And when?

The pewter being glided over, visibly perturbed. Skylark turned her back on it, hoping it wouldn’t notice that her totem was AWOL.

“Recruits without weapons cannot participate in the sparring exercise.” It pointed to a neutral zone outside the melee, indicating that she should go there. Then it raised its hand in the air, stopping the battle and silencing the Warriors.