The Dark Materials Page 4

  And there was no way to leave; there was no portal to get us out; there were no guardians to protect us; there was no magic to save us—

  We were on our own.

  Two

  Stepping Stones

  The day was new, and the world was bright. The sunlight danced happily across the surface of the dyed leaves, the wind chattering excitedly with the trees and grass, filling them with such happiness that they were compelled to dance in the gusts of their friends and celebrate yet another sunrise. Several leaves decided now was their time, letting go of their branches and spinning through the chilled air, letting the sunlight beam through their patterned surfaces to enhance the beauty of the forest. The air was a bit nippy—perfect weather to show the coming of winter, preparing everyone for the long, cold days ahead when vegetation would vanish and stomachs would shrivel.

  A black horse trotted down the forest path, his hooves echoing through the thinning woodland as they struck the littered floor. His lush mane blew gently in the breeze, the steed whinnying in pleasure as it felt the wind run through its thick hair.

  Still, despite the beautiful day, not everyone was happy. A man with a white cloak sat atop the horse, holding its leather reins tightly. His black eyes stared ahead blankly, desperately trying to pull back the red tint once and for all. His long black hair was ruffled by the fervent wind that blew his bangs in front of his eyes, causing him to brush them away every so often. He would cut it soon enough—it was no longer a look he wanted to keep. His old shirt flowed around his chest, stretched from all of the wear and tear placed on it over the past months—a shirt that was half black and half white, one which used to be his favorite now holding an aura of resentment.

  A woman sat behind him, her wary black eyes keeping tabs on the man’s current state. He had hardly spoke since last night… And knowing he was in so much pain, she couldn’t bring herself to speak either; the only thing she could do was hold his shoulder as they rode on, hoping it would give him some form of reassurance.

  Though the events of last night were terribly downing, it did not affect the child who sat on the bags mounted on the rump of the horse. She swung her legs freely past his tail, her cheerful giggle reverberating through the forest as she reached for the low hanging branches, stripping a few leaves off of the trees and throwing them up into the air so that the forest bathed the child in its beauty. Her long blonde hair swirled around her, her innocent blue eyes reflecting the bright morning sunlight. She was not down like the others; she was happy that her mistake helped her friends.

  The woman with long caramel-colored hair looked over her shoulder solemnly, sighing with exhaustion as she watched the child continue to frolic with the leaves. The girl was like a daughter to her, yes, but it still pained her to look at the child, knowing her curse was greater than the one her lover once held; hers was all the more dangerous, and after her frightening display of magic last night, the woman could not push away her guarded feelings for the girl. She was young, but in the woman’s eyes, she was already seen as yet another one of them—another supernatural, who could very easily be her downfall yet again if she was not careful.

  “When we get to town,” the man spoke weakly, clearing his throat as he tried to recuperate, “we need to search for supplies.”

  The woman looked ahead, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around his neck, forcing a smile in an attempt to banish the dark thoughts she knew were running rampant through his mind. “Of course, dear, but why?”

  “I can’t just come to Phantome and claim to be an heir,” he said bluntly, though a warming smile crept across his lips when he saw the arms of his beloved around him. “We’ll probably have to hang out in town a bit—try to blend in and become familiar with village life before I risk it.”

  “They’ll be understanding, though, won’t they, Kevin?” she questioned thoughtfully. “I mean, you have King Sterling’s sword; that should be enough.”

  He shrugged. “You’ve made pass throughs of the village since you came back. You haven’t lived there in years, though, and neither have I. They’ve become a bit more jumpy since the fall of the king and queen eight years ago; I frankly don’t know what to expect.”

  “How much longer?” Daisy complained, plucking an orange leaf off of a low branch and studying it intensely. “I want to play!”

  “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing this whole ride?” Kevin wondered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the child was alright.

  “No, I’ve been making a trail back to the base!” Daisy squeaked, opening her palm in response to his question and watching as the dazzling leaf was carried away by the wind, twirling through the air before gently landing on the forest path.

  “Trails are fun to make,” Lucy said flatly. “They’re very reliable because you can’t get lost if you make one.”

  Daisy turned around, cocking her head as she stared at Lucy, who didn’t bother to face the child. “Well, what if you used food? That wouldn’t work.”

  Intrigued, Lucy looked over her shoulder. “Why not?”

  “Animals could eat them!” Daisy piped. “Then you would get lost! A-and then you might find something terrible—like a witch in the forest who likes to eat little kids!” She squealed frightfully at the thought.

  Lucy was silent for a moment, awkwardly turning her back on the child once more. “Uh, yeah, sure.” She leaned in so that her mouth lingered at Kevin’s ear. “She’s got quite the imagination.”

  Kevin chuckled. Even being around her for a month, he could see that Lucy still had not grown used to Daisy’s bountiful imagination, and he couldn’t help but be amused by her reaction. “It’s a supernatural thing,” he responded. “She’s just more extravagant than any other.”

  Lucy smiled, scoffing lightly. “Yup, she sure is.”

  It only took a few more minutes for the group to come to the backroads of Phantome, a nervous smile holding Kevin’s lips tight as Tripp trotted out of the forest and onto the dirt road. It didn’t matter that his escape had been long forgotten by the town—coming here would always give him anxiety. As he glanced around at the shambled houses destroyed by his flames, many of which were rising from the ash, he felt sick; this was going to be his kingdom to rule if all went well. It seemed like a better idea last night when he had been caught in the moment, but now, face to face with what he was up against, his confidence skittered away.

  Lucy could see this. She removed her arms from his neck, giving Kevin a light kiss on the cheek in hopes to strengthen his courage. “Don’t forget, you always have the sword for protection. Just don’t be too boisterous, and you’ll be fine.”

  He took a deep breath, smiling graciously. “Thanks, Lucy.”

  She lightly giggled, shrugging dismissively. “No problem.” She turned away from Kevin, swinging her legs to Tripp’s side before leaping to the ground, her brown peasant dress flowering around her as it was caught in the wind. She looked back towards the horse as she patted down her sides, walking over to Daisy and extending her arms. “Come on, you. We’ve got to get some things for your father.”

  “Oh!” she squeaked, Kevin hardly able to stifle his laughter. “Well, alright! I’m gonna get a big loaf of bread!”

  “We don’t have money,” Lucy pressed before Daisy leaped into her arms, a strenuous grunt escaping Lucy’s lips as she struggled to hold the child up. “You’re getting big—!”

  Lucy heftily set Daisy down, who immediately looked up at her adoptive mother with large eyes. “I know!” Daisy jeered with pride. “But that’s good! Griffin taught me how to distract a merchant! Since I’m getting bigger, I’ll be able to do it really well!”

  Kevin snapped his eyes assertively towards Daisy, his pupils wide with disbelief. Of all things he could have taught her! “Don’t you dare!” Kevin threatened, unable to recall the number of times that Griffin had almost gotten killed for thievery. “They’ll skin you alive if you’re caught!”

  “But we need foooood,�
�� she moaned dejectedly, lowering her head.

  “We can find other ways,” he reassured her as he dismounted Tripp, keeping a hand on his reins at all times. “For now, we’ll just ask some kind people for scraps; we’ll need to make it by in any way we can until we figure out what our next move is.”

  Daisy looked back up at her father, her face brightening. “Well, alright,” she said quietly. She shifted her gaze back to Lucy, who had been standing there complacently as she waited to begin exploring the town. “Let’s go!” Daisy exclaimed with excitement.

  Lucy smiled, giving her a single nod of agreement. She took Daisy’s hand, looking back to Kevin. “Any place in particular?”

  “The main square would probably be the wisest choice.”

  “Gotcha,” Lucy acknowledged, turning away and walking off down the street, Daisy following without a care and skipping through the peasant streets as her small feet kicked up a monsoon of dust.

  Kevin walked on behind them with Tripp, smiling. He felt far from amazing after losing four people he had grown so close to, but seeing the woman whom he had loved even through the stretch of death and the child whom he had taken into his arms like she was his own made him feel like the luckiest person around. He was still standing despite the war which had killed so many, and he had built a family in the process. To say the least, he was very fortunate despite all that happened recently.

  He looked away from them, his gaze veering down the street. His face suddenly darkened, the smile born only moments ago giving way to despair yet again. There was only one thing that could stop him, and she was the reason he had to take such a strong stance to protect the town in the first place.

  He tried to push Reeve out of his mind, focusing on his surroundings. The houses burnt down by his flames were not rebuilt yet though many were on their way there. Neighbors helped one another despite their own needs, getting one house raised at a time so that there would be more free hands to help the other less fortunate; the children pitched in as well, even if it was only carrying a bowl of water to the working adults or bringing them a valuable piece of wood to contribute to the building process. It made Kevin satisfied to see this; perhaps the town burning to the ground was a good thing. It made people work together again and best the fear of their own shadows, morphing them into a cooperative community in the process, where trust was gradually being established once more, just like town-life itself.

  Most did not look Kevin’s way as he strolled through the village, though he did receive queer looks from a few commoners. He ignored them, content on getting a feel for the town like he used to have, but, of course, he couldn’t just keep walking around forever without being seen as suspicious. People had begun to trust townsfolk—not outsiders, who could be from another kingdom looking to take them over—that, or discover the secret behind the Returned and take the victims away, which was a big fear amongst the town as the population swelled without explanation.

  Kevin passed by a house, giving Tripp a slight jerk as his interest spiked. The house had been destroyed like the majority of the town, but it was now on its way. Only the exterior had been built, its frame consisting of several freshly stripped logs and a small wall of clay to hold it in place for the time being. A young man, about twenty or so years, kneeled atop the roof, balancing on two large logs, which had been laid overtop the walls side by side, strenuously trying to pull yet another log up onto the roof. His chest was muscled but severely scarred, sweat pouring down his abdomen and glistening in the harsh morning light. His hair was short and brown, two dull green eyes fixed on the log as his chiseled arms tried to hoist the large object upwards.

  “Hey!” the man grunted sharply as his muscles bulged, threatening to tear. “Would ya mind helpin’ for a moment, lad?!”

  Kevin quickly looked down the street, watching Daisy drag Lucy away through the crowd, vanishing in the swathe of peasants. He didn’t want to leave them alone in the event something went wrong…

  “Please!” the man moaned painfully, sweat racing down his face.

  Kevin huffed reluctantly, releasing Tripp’s reins and bolting towards the base of the house, wrapping his arms firmly around the log and taking a deep breath before lifting it up. His muscles strained themselves as he tried to push the log in the man’s direction so that he could take it, his hair beading with sweat within seconds; he was strong, sure, but Kevin wasn’t used to being able to use his strength to such a degree—it was foreign to have such muscles on his arms instead of charred skin, and he knew it would take a while to rediscover the limits of his mortal body.

  With a massive grunt, the man hurled the log onto the beams, panting with relief. Kevin sighed overwhelmingly, doubling over as his lungs rapidly contracted to try and get oxygen to his blood.

  “Hey, thanks, lad,” the man said graciously through his quick breaths.

  “No problem,” Kevin rasped, slowly straightening his back as he returned to his full height.

  “Well, I needed it. Thank ya. Cecil’s the name.”

  “Kevin,” he replied. “And again, no trouble at all.”

  “Well, where ya from, Kevin?” Cecil asked as he took a seat on the logs, looking down and studying Kevin closely. “I can tell it ain’t here judgin’ by that cape of yars—looks purty fancy.”

  “Eh, it’s something an old friend gave to me.” He shook his head as memories of Calla resurged within his brain, trying to dismiss them.

  “Ah,” Cecil said. “Well, Kevin, if it ain’t too much trouble, would ya mind helpin’ me a bit more? I could really use it.”

  Kevin paused, looking back down the street, only to find that Lucy and Daisy were no longer anywhere to be found; they obviously hadn’t realized that he fell behind.

  Stop worrying so much… Kevin scolded himself. They’ll be fine.

  “Sure,” Kevin answered after a moment of contemplation. He figured it was a wise decision; the more acquainted he became with the town, the more trusting they would be when he finally decided to come forth as heir.

  Cecil chuckled heartily, pointing to a wooden ladder propped up alongside the beams. “Thank ya; it’s hard havin’ to do everythin’ yaself.”

  Kevin huffed in amusement. “Believe me, I know,” he replied, untying his cloak and draping it over Tripp’s side. He grabbed a lead tied to his saddle, guiding the steed over to Cecil’s property and throwing the lead over Tripp’s neck before securing it to a wooden pole. “Mind if I tie him here?”

  Cecil flicked his wrist dismissively. “It’s fine.” He stood back up, his green eyes shining warmly as he jerked his head in the direction of the newly placed log. “Quit dallyin’; I got enough work to do and don’t wanna be held up.”

  Kevin nodded, making his way to the ladder and climbing onto the roof of the remodeled house, Cecil extending a hand towards him when he reached the top. Kevin grabbed it firmly, Cecil giving him a strong yank as he was hoisted onto the arranged wood, causing Kevin to totter. “Easy,” Cecil cooed, grabbing him roughly by the shoulders and holding him in place until he was certain he would not fall.

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “No, thank ya,” Cecil rounded, a dry smile on his dull, chapped lips. He turned, walking away and kneeling down on the untreated logs, grabbing a wooden hammer and a few nails from a cup. Kevin stood there, not necessarily watching him, but watching the scarred skin on his back fold. The abrasions ran deep; they were black-blue trenches that nearly carved out his entire back, transforming his body into a topographical map. The injuries were most severe around his spine, gradually stretching out until they only grazed over his sides and the rest of his being.

  Cecil’s back suddenly tensed, and he froze in place, picking up on Kevin’s eyes that could not veer from his distorted frame. Sighing, he slowly began to move once more, placing the sharp ends of several rusted nails in his mouth before making his way back over to Kevin and dropping to his knees as he spat the nails into his hand. “Don’t ask,” he said in a muf
fled, disappointed tone. He waved the nails in Kevin’s direction. “Ya know anythin’ about buildin’?”

  “Uhm, depends on what kind of building,” Kevin answered warily as he kneeled down beside Cecil, who was busy adjusting the log.

  “Well, what other kinds of buildin’ are there?” Cecil asked, focused on his work. “If ya build, ya build.”

  “Well, yes,” Kevin stammered, “but I like to make things along the lines of oddities and weapons.”

  “Ah,” Cecil noted in recognition, placing a nail sideways as he handed the spare ones to Kevin. “So, a blacksmith, eh?” he pressed, giving the nail a hefty slam with the hammer so that it sunk firmly into the timber.

  “Sort of.”

  “Why, aren’t ya a confusin’ feller,” Cecil chortled. “So, hey, ya didn’t answer my question; where ya from?”

  Kevin briefly thought the question over before realizing there was no harm in telling most of the truth. “Phantome,” he answered with confidence to avoid suspicion. “Haven’t lived here for years, though—was settled in a cottage a whiles away.”

  “A rural feller.” Cecil grunted as he struck the nail once more. “Judgin’ by the packs on yar steed there, I figure ya’ve come to stay.”

  Kevin nodded. “Yeah, me and my family.”

  Cecil paused, his hammer raised. “Excuse me for askin’,” he said cautiously, “but is any of yar family a Returned?”

  That caught Kevin off guard, and for a minute, he became very skeptical of Cecil, wondering why such a personal question had been asked. Subconsciously, Kevin found himself nodding.

  Cecil smiled upon seeing his answer. He looked back at the log, slamming his hammer down on the nail before reaching for another nail in Kevin’s motionless hands. “I was just wonderin’,” he chuckled. “No offense intended, but I’ve been seeing a lot of people like ya come here; they want a chance to start over with their loved ones who have been brought back.”