Rising Dark (The Darkling Trilogy, Book 2) (30 page)

It remained like an ominous shadow as
the years continued to march on and I watched Mama Akosua age, the
lines on her face deepening, her movements marked by the rigors of
age as her body deferred to it. She had become a rock over the
years and her wisdom had been invaluable to me. I did not know what
would become of me once she, and then Luna, left this Earth and I
would be alone once more.

One night, I arrived at Mama Akosua’s
home as usual on a Wednesday night and found it empty. I was
immediately uneasy, for it was not like Mama to be away from home
for long in case someone should come calling in need of her aid. I
sat outside, debating whether or not to somehow alert Luna to her
disappearance, when I felt something. It was very faint, nothing
more than an impression, like the remembrance of a taste of
something on your lips. But it had been there and I was sure it was
Mama. Uncertain of what I should do, or where I was supposed to go,
I threw myself into the woodland. Only guessing at where I would
find her, I headed for the only thing I knew of that was more
powerful than Mama.

The chapel loomed before me, the night
time shadows, rather than diminishing it, seeming to enhance its
menacing aura with every slash of moonlight across its beaten form.
Even now, after so many years, I hesitated to approach it, but I
knew Mama was there, I could hear her faint heartbeat and her
breathing, which was incredibly slow and shallow. That made me push
past my fear. I hurtled myself through space and appeared in the
chapel.

The sound of my feet against the
ancient floorboards sounded like thunder in the unnatural
stillness. Lying at the back, halfway through the secret trapdoor,
was Mama. I was at her side in an instant. It appeared as if she
had crawled up the stairs before collapsing and I smelt blood,
though I was not sure where she was bleeding.

What on earth was she doing
here?

I clasped her hand, too scared to pick
her up, and drew her with me into the ether. We were outside
moments later, the air no longer cloying, the unearthly chill no
longer seeming to pervade my every pore. I saw now that the
bleeding was coming from her nose and mouth and her chest was
stained with blood, but there was no evidence of a wound. Her right
arm was lying at an odd angle, no doubt broken. Anger surged
through me at what the entity—and there was no doubt in my mind
that the spirit in the chapel was responsible for this—had done to
her.

For a moment, my mind grew completely
blank and I couldn’t speak, battling my fear at the thought that
she would die and I would lose my dear friend and confidant. There
was only one course of action left to me, and although she would
probably never forgive me for this, I could not let Mama be taken
from me.

So I drew my nail against my wrist and
held it to her lips, forcing her to drink. When I pulled my wrist
away, my fear and terror increased, because nothing happened.
Although her heartbeat seemed to grow even, her breathing stayed
the same.

“
Oh, Mama.”

I picked her up and moved into the
ether, taking her away from the hateful presence of the chapel and
to her home, where I lay her in bed.

My blood appeared to have had no
effect on her, so I was going to have to watch her die. I pulled up
a chair and sat down by the bed with her hand in mine. Placing my
head against the bed, I wept.

I stayed with her for the rest of the
night and an hour after the sun had risen, I was still at her
bedside, holding tightly on to her hand and listening to her
heartbeat and shallow breathing, praying to God to not take her
from me. That is when I felt the fragile, thin hand in mine squeeze
my fingers. I looked up. She was awake and staring at me through
half-closed lids, a weak smile on her lips.

“
Mama?”

“
You came.”

I nodded. “But I barely heard you.
What were you doing there, Mama?”

“
Trying to right a wrong.
But it was too strong for me.”

It was all she would say and her mind
was closed to me as she looked off into the distance, lost in her
thoughts.

“
Help me get up,” she said
after a few moments. “I have to go back. I have to
finish—”

“
No!” It was a shout in
the small room. “No,” I said again less forcefully this time.
“You’re too weak. I...I had to give you my blood. I am sorry,” I
added quickly, expecting anger at this trespass. “But I do not
think you would have lived if I had not.”

She stared carefully at me for a few
moments. “Help me up,” she said again.

I reached over and helped her to her
feet. Although her right arm was no longer twisted, it still seemed
to hang stiffly.

“
Your arm is still not
healed.”

“
No,” she said, glancing
at it absently. “It will not let it heal, to serve as a reminder to
me to never enter the chapel again. But I have to go
back.”

“
Mama, I cannot let you
leave here.”

She glanced at me again, the same way
she had only a moment ago, and then she seated herself on the bed
and gestured for me to sit also.

“
Wɔfa
Avery. What you fear, what you have feared for so long now,
you cannot stop it. For someone who will never see an end to the
days that stretch before him, you must know that death is not to be
feared. It is a release. It is not to be feared.” She placed her
hand on my shoulder.

“
I know that, Mama. I know
that.”

“
You are like a son to me
in so many ways. I will always be with you, in some way, so do not
think I will ever abandon you, or Luna. It is why you have to let
me go back. I have too many wrongs to right. I cannot let that
spirit grow. It has tasted my blood now so it will haunt us all if
I do not banish it.”

“
You have to rest,
Mama.
Please
.”

She nodded and let me push her back
against the bed. She was fast asleep a short time later. She slept
for most of that day, waking for short moments. It was a week
before she was well enough for me to be able to leave her side and
return to the mansion. But she appeared extremely troubled as she
stood at the front door watching me, and she made sure her thoughts
were carefully hidden from me.

“
Thank you,
Wɔfa
Avery. You have
never let us down. I promise I will find a way to return what I
took from you.”

I was not sure of exactly what she
meant, but I was just relieved she had recovered and I would have a
few more years with her.

***

I thought I would be ready when she
finally left this world and that I would have time to say goodbye,
as I’d had with Philip. But it was not to be so. She left suddenly,
and it was nearly a week after when I arrived for my weekly visit
that I discovered she was no longer on this Earth.

The home, which had always been open
to me, was empty, all her furniture cleared away. The shock was
like a strong gust of wind that blew against me when I entered her
home, and I had to grasp the door to steady myself. The night was
young but I did not want to see the world. Did not want to embrace
the pain. The loss cut to my very soul, the core of my existence as
a vampire. This life would always be one of death. I no longer
meted out death, but it found me anyway.

With desolation creeping into my
being, I ran, actually ran away from her home, seeking the darkness
and silence of the woods. Once there, I went to ground as had been
my way before Luna, and the humanity she helped awaken in me. This
night there appeared to be nothing left for me in the world. Only
Luna. And before long, a day like this would come when death would
claim her too. Then I would be completely alone.

I fell into a grief-stricken sleep. As
the sun began to rise and a dull ache crept into my bones, I began
to dream.

I was with Mama in her home. It was
the night I returned from my trip to England. She reached over and
placed her hands over mine, sorrow marking her features.

“
This is the same promise
I made to Luna,” she said in the dream, the grip on my hands much
stronger than it had been that night. “You will always have my
devotion. Whether it is in life or death, it will always be
yours.”

I was awake.

It was real, there was no denying
that. Her death had left a huge void that couldn’t be filled. I
already felt adrift, anchorless now my weekly visits with her had
been taken away. But she would never completely leave me as she had
promised.

I repeated those words, a mantra to
ward off the evil of grief. She would never leave me, there was
comfort in that. I dreaded the day Luna would disappear from the
Earth, but that would not come for many years. I could go on. I
could continue to watch over her, her descendants, and my family in
England. I could go on.

Despite Mama’s reassuring presence
from time to time, loneliness was a terrible plague after her
death. Those weekly visits had sustained me, allowed me to see Luna
through her eyes, watch her with her children, watch her laugh, cry
and live. I saw her age, and instead of stealing her beauty along
with her youth, she grew more beautiful as time wrote a tale of
love across her features. With Mama’s death, it felt as if I had
lost Luna all over again, and with each year that passed, my fears
increased as I watched time rush toward the day when it would take
her away from me.

I only saw glimpses of her over those
years, usually through the eyes of strangers, or people she bought
from and the few neighbours she spoke with. Her first child, Lina,
had returned to Mississippi years before and the two were rarely
apart, especially after Mama’s death.

When Jupiter died, I considered going
to her, but I knew I would not be able to resist taking her with
me, and then the inevitable would happen. I only had to picture
Mama’s broken body when I found her in the chapel to keep my
distance from Luna.

It was a blow when on one dreary,
winter’s morning, I dreamt of a grave by Luna’s home. I already
knew who sent me that dream and what it meant.

I awoke immediately. It was
midmorning. Not wanting to believe it, I dressed and left to make
my way to Luna’s home.

It was true. She died during the night
and they were burying her that morning as had been her final wish.
I hovered in the woods, as people gathered near the house for the
funeral, and listened, still hoping against hope that there was
some kind of mistake.

The first person I heard was
Ebenezer.

Crazy. They all
are.

He was looking at Lina, who stood at
the grave. Her back was straight, her lips pursed as she stared,
almost contemptuously as they began shovelling earth in the grave.
Curiously, she was the only one who wasn’t dressed in black. She
was, instead, wearing a sunburst yellow dress and coat that got
more than a few stares of disapproval along with a couple of tsks
and head shaking from those who were brave enough.

Curious as to what Ebenezer meant, I
searched his mind to the event that had occurred just a few hours
ago.

Lina was walking through
the house in a rage, taking the sheets Ebenezer had placed over the
mirrors off again.

“
What the hell is you
doing, woman? You want a haint to come in this here house?” he
said, referring to the Negro superstition regarding the spirits of
the dead and the custom of placing sheets over mirrors so they
wouldn’t have a way to come back into the world of the
living.

She stopped long enough to
glare at him.

“
If my mama wants to come
back, she’ll just walk right on in through the front door. Ain’t no
sheets over mirrors is gonna stop her.” She pushed past him onto
the next room, leaving Ebenezer to enter and place the sheets back
over the mirrors.

Standing by the graveside,
his expression softened as he stared at her.
But God, I loves her
. A soft sigh
escaped him, his grief cutting into him again.
Along with her crazy mama and grandmama
.

My attention was taken away from him
when Lina abruptly turned around and stared at the woods, her gaze
hard. She was curiously dry-eyed, unlike most of the other
mourners. She couldn’t possibly see me from that distance, but she
definitely knew I was there. I slunk away, and it felt as if her
gaze was still on me long after I left.

I returned to the house at night when
I was sure they would all be asleep. I knelt at the grave, finally
giving way to my grief and rivers of it poured forth from me. The
harsh reality of her death was like a whirlwind of hurt I could
barely see through.

She was dead, gone. I stayed there for
about an hour until I heard stirrings within the house, in one of
the bedrooms, Lina and Ebenezer’s.

I retreated into the shadow of the
large tree where I was sure I wouldn’t be seen and stared up at the
house. A few moments later, Lina appeared at the bedroom window and
opened it. She wore a white cotton night dress and her thick wavy
hair hung in two braided ropes. She didn’t need to see me to know I
was there, she had probably been aware of my presence from the
moment I got there. She stared at me long and hard, still so very
angry. I didn’t need to delve into her mind to discover this, she
wanted me to know it.