Secrets
By Lindsay R. Honosky
Chapter Eight: Shot in the Dark
Hm, seems some of my underlines and centered text don't want to work right. Pity...ANYWAY! Thank you for staying with this story so far; the gratitude I feel for all of you is immeasurable. Now onto this chapter.
I have to say this one makes me nervous. I like it, and had fun righting it, but the same thought kept poking me in the brain, screaming, "That wouldn't happen!" So, well, here I am with fingers crossed, hoping this is acceptable. Well, I guess I'll find out after you, my dear readers, read and review it. I welcome all kinds of critique (good or bad), and would love to learn more about this beta thing everyone is telling me about, lol. Alright, I'm gonna stop talking now and let you guys read!
Nothing. She had turned to nothing. There was no heat, no cold, no light, no dark.
Just nothing.
She forgot who she was, slowing drifting in this purgatory until every last scrap of her essence was lost within. She knew not how long she had been trapped within its clutches, only that it was to long, and madness threatened to seize her, dragging her down deeper into the darkness.
Sparrow...
A voice, that's what that was. The sound that echoed around her.
Get up, little Sparrow...
Not just a sound, but a name. Her name. She was Sparrow.
She saw herself, a tall woman with brown hair and dark blue eyes. Memories of what and who she was came flooding into her, like the tides crashing against a cliff wall. She gasped, remembering how to breath, and as her eyes opened the darkness slowly dissipated. The room was cold, and she was laying on hard stone. In the distance the faint glow of candlelight could be seen, the shadows it created a terrifying sight to rival that of her darkest nightmares. And yet this place seemed familiar, like something out of a dream.
Then it hit her like a blow to the stomach. This was the Shadow Court. They had been taken, by some demonic ooze, and they were in grave danger. Looking around Sparrow saw no sign of either Jack nor Reaver, yet she remembered seeing the man being overtaken as she had. The thought crossed her mind to just leave; perhaps she could get away without the shadow's noticing. Then the thought turned to bile in her stomach, and standing she looked down the dark corridor that she knew would lead to the main hall, her pistol in hand.
The temple was suspiciously void of any of the shadow demons she'd fought on her previous visit. Instead the halls held a suffocating air of loathing, as if her every step were trespassing upon their emptiness. Her eyes darted nervously from one corner to the other, keeping her ears open for any type of sound. She prayed to whatever God there was that Jack was safe outside. She reached the final staircase, cold air buffeting her viciously, as if trying to penetrate the very bones within her. Steeling herself, Sparrow began her decent, pistol at the ready.
She stopped before rounding the corner, body having gone ridged after hearing the horrible whispers of the damned.
A foolish man came to our Court
Wishing to live forever more
Into the shadow's depths he crept
While his beloved slept
And now to us he has returned
After loosing his wife
and village burned.
For even if he lives forever
we will keep that which he treasures.
There was a horrible gurgling noise, as if someone were drowning, and fear clenched at her stomach like the hands of a monster. The poem kept repeating over and over, like a haunting song, taunting the man she knew she'd find once she rounded the corner. Taking a deep breath, Sparrow readied her weapon, and stepped around into the main hall.
What she saw would have made any normal person scream, and she was not to far from doing so herself. The three figures she had seen before had changed, morphed into three horrible creatures with a face on either side of its middle one, eyes empty in their sockets; nothing but darkness poured from the empty holes. They mouths, or what she thought were mouths, were sharp looking fangs, or tentacles, that dangled down to the creatures' chests, their hands similarly sharp and foreboding. The red light from the chandelier only made the haunting figures all that more menacing, as if they were spawned from the very depths of hell. Then she tore her eyes from the creatures, and there she found Reaver. He was still suspended in air, though it seemed the darkness that surrounded him was nearly consuming his body. Black tears ran from his eyes, out of his mouth, nose, and ears, and utterly veiled his lower body. Sparrow bit her lip, wondering what she was going to do...
Before she could think, dark tendrils tried to grab her from the side, snaking their way up her legs. With a surprised shriek she would later become embarrassed over, Sparrow quickly drew her sword and cut at the dark fingers, rolling away as fast as she could. Chilling laughter could be heard behind her, and her heart froze.
The creatures stared at her with that impenetrable darkness, and spoke, "Creator of our end, desecrator of our halls," three clawed fingers rose in unison to point at her, "tell us now your purpose here, or begone."
Sparrow tried to look braver, though she knew by the clinking of her weapons she was shaking, "I've come to take back Reaver."
There was a loud angry hiss, "He is OURS! The shadows consume him, as the will consume all else!"
"The debt was paid recently, if I'm not mistaken." Sparrow began to pace, inching her way closer and closer to Reaver, who was now convulsing in pain. She kept her eye on the creatures upon the dais, "Your agreement has been met; I shall take him now."
"And what is to stop ups from keeping you both? You, harbinger of our destruction, mother of our end."
Sparrow flourished her pistol, feeling better having the weapon in her hand, "Look, I don't know what all this 'mother of our end' nonsense you're talking about, but I do know that you're coming short on your end of the bargain." She pointed her pistol to Reaver, "He's already paid in full for this year; you have no right to him."
"You shall both belong to the shadows!"
"I see, well then...!" As fast as she could Sparrow turned, aimed for the chain holding the chandelier, and shot, sparks flying as the two metals kissed. The golden metal came crashing down before the creatures, the fire of the candles consuming them as easily as paper. Their shrieks echoed through the empty halls and pierced her skull, and for a moment she feared she would go deaf. Then she heard a loud thump, followed by horrible coughing. Sparrow turned towards Reaver, watching as the last of the darkness crept away back into the stone. She skidded on her knees, coming to a stop only a few inches away from him. She reached out her hands, trying to grab his shoulders, "Reaver...?"
"Don't touch me!" He shouted, slapping her hands away. Traces of the dark tears stained his face, enhancing the look of rage upon it, "Why are you here?"
His words stung her, but her pride made her shout back, "To rescue you, you ungrateful bastard!"
"You are far more of an idiot than I thought!" This time his hand were on her shoulders, and he shook her furiously, "You could have gotten yourself killed! Or worse!"
"You're hurting me, you idiot!"
"I should kill you!"
"That'd be a bit counter-productive, don't you think?"
"It would save me a headache or two!"
"I could say the same!"
"Idiotic child!"
"Lecherous old man!"
They paused, scowling at each other. Then in an instant their mouths were locked, so hard Sparrow knew not if it had been her lip that split or his. Anger and fear slowly melted away into weakening relief, her mind reeling as her mouth opened to his. For a while a small battle for dominance waged between them, but just as quickly Sparrow gasped and pushed him away, eyes wide with shock. He landed a few inches form her, licking his lips as if he'd just finished eating a sweet dessert. She stood, turned away from him, and grew ridged, "Well, you're alive. Let's get out of here quickly, least they come back."
She could feel him standing, coming closer to her, "My my, I wonder where that came from."
She clenched her fists, "Nowhere! Absolutely, positively nowhere!" She marched forward, refusing to look at him.
He laughed gently, "It certainly didn't seem to come out of 'nowhere', as you so elegantly put it. A shame it takes such horrid surroundings to spark such a passionate kiss."
She turned on him, eyes ablaze, "It was you who kissed me, Reaver! Let's not confuse things."
He eyed her luridly, "Certainly not. If I were the one to kiss you, it would have been much more refined. You're rather sloppy, little Sparrow." She reached out a hand to slap him, but he caught it before it even came close to her target, "May I say, dear Sparrow, that you turn such a lovely shade of red when angered." He brought her fingers to his lips, kissing them lightly, "Forgive me. You came to save me and did so quite beautifully; I should not have turned on you so." The wolfish grin he flashed her made her stomach flip.
Jerking her hand away, she continued on, quickening her pace, "Don't think the thought to leave you behind didn't occur to me."
He shrugged, though he doubted she noticed, "Of course. Most would do the same. It takes one with an extreme lack of intelligence to willingly venture further into this place."
She raised an eyebrow, "Oh? You mean someone like you?"
He laughed, the rich tone a welcome change to the eerie silence, "I suppose so! However my thoughts before venturing here were somewhere along the lines of 'die now or die later'."
"A grim outlook."
"Indeed."
"Reaver?" She stopped suddenly, almost causing her follower to collide with her back.
He came to stand beside her in the chamber before he exit, wishing to stop these delays, however amusing they were, "Yes?"
"The chant those things were singing. It was about you, wasn't it?"
He was silent for a moment, his face dropping, "Yes. Yes it was."
"I'm sorry."
"For events that happened long before you were born?" He was smiling again, but Sparrow could tell it was forced, "Think nothing of it. The only time I do is in my dreams. Now," he clapped his hands, "let's see if that dog of yours hasn't been eaten by some Banshee or worse."
"I don't believe you. There's still a part of you that remains unburied, that is still raw."
He sighed deeply, resting his hand on the cold stone door, "Perhaps you are correct, little Sparrow. But now is not the time for such discussions, and I grow weary of this place." Pushing the doors open, warm, stagnate air assaulted them; nothing had ever felt more pleasant. A happy bark echoed from the left, and as Sparrow stepped into the marsh Jack showered her with kisses, the reunion serenaded by Reaver's angry curses as he found his bag three inches sunk in mud.
The cullis gate looked old and broken, but Sparrow had read Garth's research on how they worked, and began to gather her will around the three of them, sweat beading from concentration. The stink of the marsh, combined with the corpses of the bandits who were foolish enough to attack them made concentration nearly impossible, and the constant chatter of the demon door didn't help either. Despite all the distractions, Sparrow finally felt that tiny tingle, like a small piece of ice in the back of her mind that signaled the gate was open. Closing her eyes, Sparrow released the built-up will power, and the three disappeared in circling blue light.
When she reopened her eyes she found herself atop Garth's tower, Reaver appearing shortly after Jack. The sun was barely raising over the mountains, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Sparrow suddenly felt very old, every fiber of her being sore and tired. She looked at Reaver and wondered what Garth would have to say about Reaver spending the night in his tower? Then again, she owned it now, so he really had no room for argument. Motioning her companions to follow, Sparrow said, "Come on. There are dry beds inside."
"So this is the fabled Brightwood Tower? You know, I never had an interest in exploring its secrets." Reaver said, eyes roaming the ground with a critical air.
"Probably for the better. You might have ended up a burning corpse if Garth had caught you."
"And are you so certain that I would not leave him in such a state?"
"Seeing as your weapon of choice is a pistol, no, I don't." She smiled sweetly at him, "Maybe if you got the jump on him you could give him an extra hole or two."
"I met him in Samarkand, you know. The encounter was less than pleasant."
She stopped, anger flaring once more in her eyes, "You didn't...?"
"Kill him?" He shrugged, smiling mischievously, "Who can say? I left him bruised and bloodied; more bloodied than bruised, if I do say so, and had to leave to quickly to learn the specifics of his dire condition."
"But...why? I knew you two weren't exactly compatible or chummy, but to kill him? What did he do?"
"I was bored."
She stood there, stunned into silence, "You...you were bored?"
"Yes, is that so hard to believe?" Jack began whining behind him, as if he understood what was being said and mourned the passing of the magician.
Sparrow shook her head, "Yes, it is! And I don't believe you at all." She walked towards him, stabbing a finger to his chest, "For one thing, I'm sure this is all just a story to either feed your ego or fool me, or both! Secondly, there's no way someone like Garth could be so easily bested by some bored pirate, who was probably drunk, and then I not hearing about it."
Reaver's annoyance was peaking, "Oh? And what makes you so sure you would have heard anything at all?"
She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, "Please! A battle between two Fated Heroes in a far away land? A battle that you fought? I'd think the rumors you spread alone would have been enough to announce his death to every corner of the world."
"I'm hurt that you think I need rumors in order to spread my greatness."
She huffed, blowing stray strands of hair from her face, "Because everything said about you is true, correct?"
White teeth flashed behind that wolfish grin, "Of course," with speed unimaginable Reaver had pinned Sparrow against the stone wall, pressing her hard between it and himself. She let out a shocked gasp, and Reaver laughed mockingly, "Shall I give you an example of some of my more desirable talents?"
"R-Reaver," Sparrow struggled to get her hands free, but they were pinned to her sides, "we had a deal!"
"As I remember it, our agreement was I would not touch you whilst we transverse the marsh. Well," he leaned in closer, his face dangerously close to her's, "I do believe we are quite out of the marsh, wouldn't you agree?"
"I...!"
He inched closer, their breath mingling together, "You saved my life, little Sparrow. I'm not a man who likes being in debt to others. Allow me to repay you in full."
She laughed, the sound being more of a weak shudder, "Can't you just say I owe you less gold?" Her answer was a light kiss on her nose, a ghosting of lips on hers, and she closed her eyes and gasped as gentle kisses landed softly on her neck. "Reaver...!"
He hushed her, nipping playfully at the soft flesh beneath her delicate jaw. Her gasp sent thrills coursing through his body, renewing him in that delightfully familiar way. Reaver laughed huskily as Sparrow's breath hitched in her throat; such a sensitive creature young Sparrow was. His tongue traced the outline of her ear, and he could feel her shuddering against him.
Sparrow noticed his hands had fallen from her sides, her heart racing as she saw their target. They were already at work on her bodice strings, her face turning to fire. As quickly as her weak limbs would allow, Sparrow grabbed his hands, her voice almost a whisper, "Please, Reaver, don't do this."
He looked up, face a mixture of confusion and annoyance, "May I ask why you intend on refusing me so? If I'm not mistaken you were clearly enjoying the moment."
She smiled at him, an expression that caught him off guard. How long had it been since someone wore that smile for him? She put his hands together, holding them in place, "Reaver, we just went through something utterly terrifying." She released one of his hands and held up her own, so to stop his protest, "I know you'll deny it, and maybe you weren't truly terrified, but I know for certain I was. I'm not thinking in my right mind right now, and I'm sure a lack of sleep will do the same to you, so I propose we both go to sleep now and see how we feel on the morrow."
"You're underestimating me again-"
Sparrow laughed, then spun away from his hold, slipping into the doorway, "You have to listen to me now, don't you?" She winked at him, "You owe me now, remember." She spotted the nice, warm, most amazing looking bed she had seen in ages, or at least how she felt after the marsh, and turned down the blankets. Reaver walked in as she was kicking off her boots, feeling every muscle as she climbed beneath the soft material.
As he walked by, Reaver snapped, "You are a cruel woman, Sparrow. I was right about calling you a heart-breaker." However his words fell on deaf ears, as Sparrow had already slipped off into a deep sleep.