Rise of Darkness (The Watchers Book 2) Read online

  The Watchers

  Rise of Darkness

  M. Lee Holmes

  Copyright © 2017 M. Lee Holmes

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:

  ISBN-13:

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgments

  i

  Chapter 1

  Pg. 9

  Chapter 2

  Pg. 20

  Chapter 3

  Pg. 31

  Chapter 4

  Pg. 38

  Chapter 5

  Pg. 46

  Chapter 6

  Pg. 52

  Chapter 7

  Pg. 59

  Chapter 8

  Pg. 65

  Chapter 9

  Pg. 72

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Epilogue

  Pg. 77

  Pg. 93

  Pg. 109

  Pg. 122

  Pg. 130

  Pg. 138

  Pg. 148

  Pg. 163

  Pg. 176

  Pg. 182

  Pg. 189

  Pg. 205

  Pg. 214

  Pg. 221

  Pg. 229

  Pg. 235

  Pg. 246

  Pg. 254

  Pg. 262

  Pg. 269

  Pg. 280

  Pg. 287

  Pg. 296

  Pg. 304

  Pg. 314

  Pg. 321

  Pg. 334

  Pg. 341

  Pg. 352

  Pg. 360

  Pg. 373

  Pg. 386

  Pg. 394

  Pg. 402

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I’d like to thank everyone who helped and encouraged me along my journey. For those who sacrificed their time and energy to help me achieve my goals. You know who you are.

  Into the night

  Upon wings of red,

  At the edge of a blade

  A life is shed,

  And ashes of light

  Sifting and swaying,

  Darkness of night

  No stars availing

  Chapter 1

  Rhada’s slippers were thin and she could feel the beginnings of blisters forming on the backs of her feet. Her outstretched arm had begun to shake with exhaustion long ago but her tiny hand was being squeezed so hard, she could not pull it free. She raced alongside her mother who was dragging her. She was practically running to keep in step with the wide strides of her mother, all while clutching tightly to her dolly with her free hand. The toy bounced and flopped violently as she bounded ahead, but she could not lose it. Dolly was the only thing she had been allowed to bring with her.

  “Where are we going?” She asked through exasperated breaths but her mother did not reply. She kept silent and pulled even tighter on Rhada’s arm. She tried to look up at the woman, tried desperately to get a glimpse of her face, but she remained elusive, like always. She was tall and hidden in shadow beneath her tight hood. And though she had hardly ever taken time to speak to Rhada, or hold her on the nights where nightmares plagued her, or played dolls with her like Rhada so often begged her to do, Rhada’s little heart beat with pure love for her. So she could not understand why her mother was hurting her now. Her wrist was beginning to bruise under the pressure of her grip, and more than once Rhada had begged for a rest so she might rub some of the pain from her feet.

  Through the dusty, winding streets of the city they ran, dodging carriages and snaking through crowds of bystanders, often inducing from the strangers a stream of profanities as they shoved their way through. But they did not stop until they turned a corner in the East Village, down a rather large alleyway, and into a small square where they came upon a grand white building that looked to be as large as the Axendrian cathedral. Rhada stood in awe at its edifice. Four large pillars stretched skyward and pushed against a solid brick barbican, framing an arch doorway painted in black. The walls that stretched from either side of the entryway were solid and cast the entire square in shadow.

  Rhada’s heart began to beat faster and she clutched tighter to Dolly. She was being dragged across the square towards what looked like a prison and Rhada could not help the feeling of dread building inside of her. She gazed up to her mother with pleading eyes but her mother did not look down at her. She carried Rhada across the dirt of the square as if they were floating. She pulled her up the five stairs of the circular entryway and stopped at the black door. It loomed over Rhada like a dark cloud, heavy with promise of rain. But the rain came from Rhada’s eyes. She let it fall down her cheeks and drip onto the stone beneath her feet. She heard a scoff from the woman next to her. Rhada looked up and immediately her mother looked away, not wishing to see the child’s tears.

  “Stop your crying child. You’ll have no place for it here.” These were the first words her mother had spoken to her in several days and hearing her voice, though it was harsh and devoid of affection, brought comfort to her.

  “Please, can we go home?” She begged. She pulled on her mother’s arm and cried harder. “I don’t like this place. Can we go home now?” But her mother would not look at her. She pulled her hand free and knocked loudly on the door. They waited several moments before she knocked again and almost immediately the door opened.

  “Yes?” An old, withered woman with one missing eye thrust her head through the doorway to greet them.

  “I’ve brought a ward. She was abandoned and I’ve not the time or the means to care for her.” It took Rhada’s child-like mind several moments to realize what was happening. By the time she understood, the old woman was leaning over her, poking at her arms and thighs.

  “The child looks half starved.” The old woman stated.

  “Just take her!” Her mother said, putting her hands upon Rhada’s shoulders and pushing her forward. The old woman reached for her and began pulling her inside the abyssal prison. Rhada turned from her and screamed.

  “Mama! Take me with you!” She reached out for her mother, not noticing Dolly fall from her grasp. She clutched at her mother’s gown, pulling on the delicate fabric. Mama pulled back on her skirt, ripping it from Rhada’s grasp as though her hands had tainted it.

  “Stop your struggling, child!” The old woman said, holding tightly to Rhada’s arms and pulling her inside.

  “Mama!” She screamed. Tears filled her eyes until she was blind. Her mother turned away from her in disgust.

  Without a word, her mother fled. She ran away from the screaming child, never to return for her. Rhada was pulled into the orphanage though she struggled with all her might. She cried and screamed, wondering what she had done wrong. Does Mama not love me anymore?

  Before the door slammed shut, she saw Dolly lying abandoned on the ground.

  Rhada shivered from the cold and wrapped her twig-like arms across her tiny frame, holding togethe
r the last bits of rags she owned. The wind was howling with such vicious intent, she was certain it meant to kill her. She felt the tears streaming from her eyes get caught in the gales and fly past her into the courtyard beyond.

  She wished, as she sat alone cradling her cold body, that she had thought to grab her blanket before running from the girls’ dorm. But in her haste to escape the flying debris of shoes and hair brushes and whatever else the girls could find to throw at her, she did not consider the cold winds she was running into.

  She knew that if Nanny found her out here alone, when she should have been in bed, she would be punished. But she could not remain with the other girls when they meant to torment her. She would have gladly stayed in her bed and slept, for the weariness of the day was like shackles weighing her down, but the moment she entered the dorm, the girls began wailing at her.

  It had begun earlier that day, when Rhada had been backed into a corner by Percilla; the fiery red-head who never gave Rhada a moment of peace. She and her friends had snuck up on Rhada from behind, kicking her into the dirt. She squirmed and pushed herself away, against the wall of the courtyard with nowhere to run. As Percilla advanced, Rhada got to her feet, preparing herself for another beating. But as she looked upon Percilla’s smiling face, she could no longer control her anger. She tightened her fist into a ball and the moment Percilla was within striking distance, Rhada let her fist fly. She felt the satisfying sensation of knuckles connecting with bone. The pop of Percilla’s nose breaking under the blow made Rhada’s heart soar with joy. Watching Percilla crumble at her feet, clutching to her bleeding nose sent a wave of bliss through Rhada’s body. She began to laugh, unable to control her joy at the sight of it all. She continued to laugh as Percilla’s friends lifted her off the ground and carried her away. She laughed all that day whenever she thought of the way Percilla had strolled away, clutching her bleeding nose and crying, or when she felt the stinging pain in her knuckles. She smiled to herself with pride until Percilla returned.

  She came to Rhada after supper with five other girls. Two of them held Rhada’s arms while the other four took their turns hitting her. They left her in a crumpled heap in the courtyard, the dirt on her face turning to mud from tears and blood. Of course, when Nanny Obina had found her, it was straight to the reed post for starting a fight, the punishment of which was five lashes. Now Rhada suffered two black eyes, swollen lips, ripped hair, aching ribs and reed stripes on her back. She wanted nothing more than to crawl beneath her blanket and disappear from the world. But she had been chased from her only haven and now sat huddled in the cold.

  So many dark memories buried within your mind. The voice slithered through the wind and pierced into her ears. She lifted her head only slightly and saw before her someone she knew she had seen before. His dark robes shielded most of him from her view, but his eyes were deeply focused on her, taunting her with his gaze.

  Rhada was no longer a child, but a young girl on the cusp of her twentieth year. She remembered the night well. It was the last time she had truly felt happy.

  She was lying atop the silk sheets, naked and smiling. Danathin’s arms were wrapped tightly around her and her heart raced with joy. She looked into his brown eyes and melted. Danathin leaned forward and kissed her with a lover’s passion. It was the first time they had made love. They had planned to wait until they were married but circumstances that day had changed everything. Tomorrow they would be wed, but today, today they would be lovers.

  Sleep found them eventually, and when Rhada awoke, it was to the sound of lightning crashing outside her window. It shook the foundations of her home and she jumped from the bed in a panic. She crossed the room and stood upon her balcony without even a thought of putting on clothes.

  The storm was a surprise, for the day had been sunny and cheerful. But now heavy rain pelted her bare flesh, and the wind blew with a terrible force. She wrapped her arms around herself and flinched when the lighting came again, sending a deafening wave to her ears and chest. And when the dark sky ignited with the light of the electricity, she could see, far in the distance, the silhouette of the castle. She shuddered. Lightning clashed again, bringing the castle into view. It was calling to her, beckoning her to it. She closed her eyes, hoping the image of it would melt away. But when the lightning came again she could no longer deny her true calling. She opened her eyes and saw the castle and knew that it was her destiny. She had to go.

  She went back inside to dress herself and when she saw Danathin lying on the bed in a deep slumber, completely unaware of her, her heart shattered. She reached out and stroked him lightly on the cheek, but he was unconscious to the world around him and did not stir. She knew she would never see him again. Her life was taking her down another path and Danathin was merely a bump in the road. He would never forgive her.

  Suddenly, Rhada was standing in a field, completely barren of anything but hard, gray clay at her feet and an army of corpses standing before her. They stood motionless and silent, staring at her with glowing eyes. What remained of their pale skin slithered from the bone and began falling at their feet. Rhada cringed and turned to run, only to discover they were behind her as well. It was a swarm of shadow walkers, come to claim her as a sister.

  They began to move, shifting on unsteady feet, swaying back and forth and moaning in their hunger to consume her flesh. She spun around and saw they were closing in quickly and she had nowhere to run. She accepted her fate and did not struggle when she felt a cold hand rest upon her shoulder. From behind, a gaping jaw closed in on her exposed neck and she screamed from the pain. Blood sprayed forth as the shadow walker ripped the flesh from her neck and shoulder. Her bones beneath were left exposed and she fell to her knees in a cry of anguish. Another shadow walker stepped forward and grabbed the hair atop her head and began pulling with all its strength. Rhada screamed and tried to squirm away from its grasp, but the dead beast had unnatural strength. She heard the sickening sound of her skin tearing and felt cold air upon her skull. Her scalp was dropped on the ground next to her; a mass of bloody, black hair. Another shadow began crawling on hands and knees and reached for her belly, digging its fingers deep into her flesh and grabbing hold of her insides. She could no longer scream. When she opened her mouth, only a bubble of blood formed.

  Rhada fell into blackness. She knew she was dead. She was floating in death as though she were floating on an ocean wave. Her body was weightless and soared through nothingness like a feather, lost and forgotten in the sea of eternity. She knew there were others floating alongside her. She could feel them brushing against her shoulders and legs, but in the darkness they could not be seen. They were prisoners and now she was one of them. She was one of Amag’mar’s shadows.

  Rhada? There was a sudden light, orange and bright and hot, and the sound of someone calling to her.

  Rhada can you hear me? She knew the voice. It was as familiar to her as was the feel of her sword in her hand.

  Rhada, please come back to me. Rhada felt the light grow warmer as it washed away the blackness and there was a sudden shifting of her surroundings, taking form and flowing into a physical world. She was changing, she was awakening, and when the light became fire, she answered the call-

  “I am here.”

  Rhada opened her eyes slowly, feeling them water from the pain of the invading bright light. Light from what? It was warm in color, flickering through her blurred vision like a candle flame. Fire.

  “Thank the Gods, Rhada.” She heard Mayvard’s voice, saw his dark silhouette against the orange flames, and felt his warm touch against her shoulders and back as he pulled her in for an embrace.

  “I did not know if you would ever wake. But I heard you saying something in your sleep and I suddenly felt hopeful.”

  Rhada blinked, tried to focus on her surroundings and suddenly everything came into view. Her vision sharpened, and there was Mayvard’s face; his familiar visage; blue eyes, dark hair, warm smile, was the best thing she had seen in a
long time.

  “What did I say?” She asked.

  Mayvard’s smile disappeared. He shrugged his shoulders and said; “it doesn’t matter.” He twisted and reached for a cup sitting on the dirt floor and held it out for Rhada to take. She drank and the water, though warm, was sweet and exactly what she needed.

  She thanked Mayvard and set the cup down. “Tell me what I said.” She demanded.

  Mayvard sighed and looked away from her. She twisted her head, trying to focus on him. Are his cheeks turning red?

  “You said, mother.” He replied.

  “What?”

  “You called for your mother.” He turned back to her, a look on his face that suggested he was sorry for having told her.

  Rhada cleared her throat and looked away, down to her lap, which was covered in a thick fur blanket. Not my blanket. She thought. She ran her fingers along the white fur, feeling the delicacy of the animal’s hair. Then her eyes were drawn to the cup sitting next to her in the dirt. Not my cup. She looked up to the fire, providing heat and light to their tent. Not my tent. She glared at Mayvard.

  “Where are we? What has happened?” She asked.

  Mayvard sighed and looked around the tent in which they were camped. He looked like he was lost as well; as though he had no more idea how they had ended up there than she did.

  “This is not our tent.” She said, trying to lead Mayvard into an explanation. “We did not bring a tent with us when we left Axendra.” She said as she looked around at the blankets and feather pillows that had been strewn about the floor. She turned back to Mayvard and decided to demand the truth from him.

  “What is going on, Mayvard?” She asked in a rough, commanding voice, the voice she always used when she wanted someone to obey her. He could not keep the secret from her any longer. He sighed and took a deep breath for courage.