A Nameless Dark

Chapter 23

I watched the otherworldly sunset spread a sickly purple bruise across the mountain sky. The odd coloration of the landscape cast an alien countenance on an otherwise familiar view, like the set of a low budget sci-fi film. The evening cool had begun to creep in around me, but the rock I'd chosen as a seat retained its warmth from the heat of the day. Behind me, the main gate to Graver's castle stood open, its ominous feel gone now, along with our enemies. I'd left the others in Graver's study, sneaking away to steal a few moments alone. I was still reeling from the battle and needed time to process all that had happened.

We had survived the ordeal and lived to fight another day, but at a heavy cost. Nearly a dozen Steel Tower soldiers had lost their lives, brave men and women who'd charged into harm's way to save me and my family. Thaddeus was also gone, and his death hurt almost as much as the depth of his betrayal, especially in light of what we'd learned about the reason for his treachery. He may have chosen the wrong path, sinking into a darkness just as black and twisted and as our enemies, but in the end, he'd done it all to save his sister. He had been willing to go to impossible lengths to protect his family. Just like me. Thinking back on the events surrounding Trent's death, and my own hand in that tragedy, I couldn't help but wonder just how different Thaddeus and I truly were.

The thought made me sick to my stomach.

If one redeeming outcome emerged from this mess, it was that, despite how horribly wrong things had gone, we'd actually achieved what we set out to do: we'd found Graver, and secured his assistance. After his apparent return from the grave, our host seemed much more sympathetic to our cause than anyone had expected him to be. Aaron had tried to capitalize on our good fortune and recruit the Scotsman to our larger purpose.

"Someone like you," Aaron had said, sincerity chiseled on his face, "could make a very big difference in the fight against the Dark."

Graver's response had not been the one my uncle hoped for.

"I'm the only someone there is like me, boyo." He said "And I'll not be takin' sides in yer little pissin' match."

He paused for a moment, surveying the wreckage of his study with a thoughtful stroke of his beard. Mixed in with all of the blood and gore were the shredded remains of many books and manuscripts. It was possible that hundreds of years' worth of written words had been destroyed in the battle.

"Now, on the other hand," Graver said, "it was the Morrighan's creatures who brought that bloody war into my home to spew its stinking bile all over my work."

He grimaced, showing his gritted teeth like an angry hound dog.

"I might have been able to let that go, but then the bastards went an' killed my dogs. An' that just pisses me right off. So, in the interest of settlin' scores, I do believe I'll help ya after all, though not in the way yer askin'. I'll grant you the request that you originally came here to make."

"You'll help us contact the other Families of Light?" I'd asked.

"I'll do ya one better than that, Laddie," Graver had said. "I'll contact the slippery buggers for ya. As a matter of fact, I already have. You lot just make yer way on back to ol' Bartholomew Thompson's Compound. I imagine you'll be hearin' from 'em before ya know it. And in the meantime, you've earned yer selves a moment's peace. I'd suggest ya bloody well enjoy it. It may be the last ya encounter for a long, long while."

I wasn't sure what that last part meant, but I did relish the prospect of a few days of rest. The past few weeks had seemed like an eternity and I found it difficult to remember what it felt like not to be hunted. We all agreed that some downtime, hidden away at the Compound, recovering from our injuries and planning our next move, would be ideal.