Untitled Project

16. Residual pain

Cian was running, directionless, through the streets. He could see Maera's face in his mind, a ghost which followed him relentlessly every time he closed his eyes. He paused to catch his breath, and the image of Maera became stronger, so he kept moving. It was not fair, he decided, that he could not escape the darkness. It followed him. Thorold followed him. So why keep fighting? That was his decision. Walter had said he could make the choice, and he had made it, sitting in Oliver's living room. No one was safe with him around, so he had to let Thorold take him again. It was sacrifice, Cian knew, but he was not trying to be heroic. He just didn't want to run any more, and didn't want anyone else to have to run, either. Who would be next, as the writing on the wall had implied? Walter? Oliver? Ivy? Cian ran from the thought as he ran from the image of Maera, but it all followed him. Cian gave no notice of his surroundings, put no effort into guarding his thoughts.

Here I am, he said in his mind. Here I am, so what are you waiting for?

Now, when Cian hoped to be found, Thorold was absent. Cian stumbled into a subway station and boarded a train at random. It was afternoon now, he observed, based upon the number of people wolfing down their lunches as the train hurried them through their day. Cian's stomach pronounced its own hunger but he ignored it.

Any moment now, he was certain, Thorold or one of his apprentices would find him. He was vulnerable. He was practically asking for it. Wasn't this what Thorold wanted?

The train deposited Cian at the Commons. He wandered the park under a threateningly gray sky, as the wind blew leaves across the faded autumn grass. He was out in the open, as much as one could be in the city, and as he reached the middle of the Commons, he came to sense a presence.

Thorold, he thought, sending the word out into the air like a message in a bottle.

Trying to be a hero? The voice was clear and loud in his mind, and unmistakably, it was him.

No. Just trying to end this before it gets worse. Cian came to a halt, and he saw a dark figure slip out from behind a tree. He had come alone, Cian realized with some surprise. He knew that Thorold preferred to work alone, but this seemed like a job he would give to one of his trusted few, while he watched.

This concerns only us two, said Thorold's voice in his mind. The figure came closer, and as it did, Cian felt his legs stir and begin to move. He gave in, knowing it would do no good to fight, and let Thorold control him. He remembered how hard he fought, at first, when Thorold had lured him into his grasp, when he had trained him, when he had taught him the most horrible things imaginable.

You've finally learned to cooperate, Thorold said approvingly, still in his mind. Cian was only ten or so feet away from him now. He could make out the details of Thorold's face. There's no need for you to see any more. Goodnight, Cian. You'll awaken soon, and when you do, we'll discuss recent events.

Cian's legs continued to move, but his vision faded to black, and so did his mind. Time ceased, and soon he opened his eyes, and found himself immersed in darkness. He closed his eyes, and found it was only somewhat darker. The floor beneath him was hard and rough; it felt like stone. The walls were similar. The ceiling overhead was very low, too low for Cian to stand.

Where am I? he asked Thorold, probing the darkness, knowing that Thorold would be waiting for his abductee to stir.

In a house that should be quite familiar to you, Thorold replied immediately. I took the liberty of making sure you do not know the way here, in case you try to escape, or in case any of your new friends wish to help you.