The Dying Light (Bloodwitch #1)

In his dream, he heard the voice of a woman singing softly. The words she sang were indistinct, as though they were travelling towards him from some distant land. He was not even sure that they were in a language he could understand. But they stirred something within him that he had not felt for as long as he could remember.

Charlie’s eyes flickered open. He was lying on a cold flagstone floor that was sprinkled with straw. His eyes were dim, and the air was clammy, as though he was underground and far from natural light. With a groan, he forced himself into a sitting position, leaning on one knee to support his weight before he got to his feet and took in his new surroundings.

Wherever he was, one thing was certain – he was in prison. Heavy iron bars separated him on both sides from the cells connected to his. The walls of the dungeon were solid stone, slick with damp and cold to the touch. As he craned his neck to see through the bars set into the steel door of his cell, which was heavily locked and bolted, Charlie’s heart sank.

He could make out a couple of flaming torches pulsing in brackets along the far wall of the cellblock, leading to another steel door at the end of the row. He was trapped. There was a close smell in the air, and his breath rose in a mist in front of his face when he exhaled. He shivered, and rubbed his goose-pimpled arms, before tapping his fingernails on the bars of the cell.

‘Those bastards took my sweater, damn them …’

’Oh, so you are alive.’

Charlie started in shock. The girl’s voice had come from the cell to his left. She had been so still and quiet that he had not even noticed she was there. Sitting in a cross-legged position about an arm’s length beyond the iron bars that connected their cells, she was watching him intently. Her warm brown eyes glowed in the light from the torches.

She was wearing a ragged grey shift dress with black horizontal stripes. She looked thin and exhausted, her face ghostly white. Thick waves of red hair, bright as autumn leaves, tumbled down her back and in front of her shoulders, brushing the floor of her cell. Her full lips were pursed in a thoughtful expression as she eyed him watchfully.

‘Seems that way,’ he said. ‘Was that you singing, before? I thought it was a dream.’

The girl’s eyebrows arched slightly, an amused expression quirking the corners of her mouth. ‘Perhaps.’ A frown clouded her face. ‘You look awful. Did they hurt you too?’

‘Who, the soldiers? Trust me, I’m used to worse than them.’

‘No, I meant the doctors. Weren’t you –?’ She broke off, a wary look in her eyes.

‘Wasn’t I what?’

‘The Hunters … I thought you were –’ She frowned, shook her head, and fell silent.

‘What are you talking about?’ Charlie muttered. He ran his fingers through his hair, scratching at the overgrown buzzed side as he tilted his head back and forth. His whole body was aching. ‘I haven’t seen any doctors. When did –? Wait.’

He had noticed an angry red scar, the stitching still visible in her skin, running from the girl’s temple down to her collarbone. Most of it was hidden by her cascades of thick hair.

‘What in the nine hells have they done to you?’

‘Nothing that affects you,’ the girl said, moving awkwardly as she made to edge back to the far wall of her cell. ‘I only wanted to see if … but you’re not, so …’

‘Not yet,’ Charlie murmured, guessing her meaning as he noticed that her wrists and ankles were bound with restraints made of a soft black material. He reached through the bars connecting their cells, gesturing to her. ‘Come over here, I’ll help you get those things off.’

The girl stayed just beyond his reach, a suspicious look in her eyes.

‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ Charlie said gently. ‘I promise, I won’t hurt you.’

Hesitantly, the girl shifted towards him, hobbling on her palms as she dragged her bound legs behind her. When they were face to face on either side of the iron bars, she held her wrists up in front of her, and Charlie caught the scent of burning wood in her hair.

Her eyes never left his face as she rested her hands in his. Charlie felt the blade of his knife against his ankle. For some reason, whoever had locked him up had taken his sweatshirt but left him armed. However, he had the feeling this girl would not appreciate him pulling a blade on her.

His brow furrowed in concentration, Charlie tinkered with the restraints, gradually loosening them, before unravelling them one section at a time. It was obvious from the torn fibres across the black material that she had tried to use her teeth to free herself more than once. Finally, the restraints slackened, and the girl let them fall to the floor, shoving them away from her into a far corner of her cell.

‘Thank you,’ she said, swinging her legs in front of her and hastily tugging at the restraints that bound her ankles. ‘I don’t know how long it’s been since –’

‘Try to be patient and go slowly,’ Charlie said. ‘Whoever put you in those things knew what they were doing. There’s no way you could have freed yourself without help.’ He moved to assist her with undoing the ankle restraints. ‘Let me –’

‘Don’t!’ the girl cried, her voice harsh, wrenching her legs out of his reach.

‘I’m sorry,’ Charlie said, watching as the girl began to pick at the restraints more carefully. Soon, she had managed to remove them completely. Charlie could not help but notice the collection of scars that littered the skin around her ankles and feet. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ the girl said, shrugging as she started massaging her wrists and ankles. ‘I just don’t like … I don’t want people touching me, that’s all. Like I said, thanks for your help.’

‘Who did this to you?’ Charlie asked. ‘Why have they treated you like this?’

‘I don’t know, but …’ She regarded him in silence for a few moments, as though weighing her words carefully. ‘I am far from being the only coven daughter imprisoned here.’

Charlie’s eyes widened and he drew back instinctively. His fingers reached for the metal collar at his neck, finding only his own bare skin as he cursed himself for removing it. ‘You’re a – you’re one of them?’

‘Why?’ The girl spoke calmly, even curiously. ‘Are you afraid of me?’

‘I …’

Charlie paused, then frowned. He was imprisoned in Elysia with a self-professed coven terrorist, trapped in a cell in touching distance of a witch. He had even helped free her from her restraints. Yet … he did not doubt for a moment that he had made the right choice to help her. He shook his head, bewildered at his reaction, and raked his fingers through his hair, trying to find an answer to her question.

The fact was, he was not afraid.

He opened his mouth, and found himself asking, ‘What’s your name?’

‘It’s Seren … Seren Casimir,’ the girl said, and Charlie thought she spoke her name with the same care that one might hold a new-born baby. ‘That’s all I know for sure.’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘Ever since they took me to that place, I –’ Seren shook her head, her face falling. ‘Apart from my name, I don’t … I can’t …’ She dug her fingernails into her palms, balled her hands into fists, and pressed them fiercely against her eyes. Her shoulders were shaking.

‘Your name is enough for now,’ he said. ‘I’m Charlie Carroway.’

‘Do they have your family too?’ Seren asked, looking up at him urgently.

‘I don’t …’ Charlie felt himself go cold. ‘Why would they have my family?’

‘I’m not the only one they’ve been doing this to,’ Seren said through gritted teeth, motioning to the jagged scar on her head. ‘There must be hundreds of people being used by the Facility in their experiments.’

‘Witches?’

’People. Yes, witches, but not my people alone. I was the only one who escaped.’

’You escaped? Wait – what do you mean, experiments?’

‘But I had to come back. I had to find my sister. I have to save her.’

‘Your sister is here in this place somewhere too?’

Seren nodded. ‘I found my way back to the Facility, but there were too many of them. The soldiers were there, and the doctors.’ She braced her forehead in her hands. ‘I … I pushed myself further than I thought I could … further than I ever had during the experiments. It felt like … like the entire world was shaking … there was so much light … and when I woke up, I was here, in this place.’

Charlie swallowed hard, remembering how he had stood by the windowsill, watching the Elysian Castle at the top of the mountains. ’You mean … you caused that earthquake? That pillar of light – that was you? But how did –?’

Seren shook her head, waving her hand to dismiss his questions as she raised herself gingerly to her feet. At first she seemed unsteady, as though she had forgotten how to use her legs. But once she stopped swaying, she marched straight over to the door of her cell and rapped her knuckles smartly on the steel in front of her. It was almost as though she expected someone on the other side to open it for her.

‘I haven’t had much to do with your kind, but I owe you for getting me out of those restraints,’ she said, throwing him a roguish smile that made him blink with surprise. ‘What d’you reckon, Charlie Carroway – are you ready to get out of this dump?’

‘I reckon you’re forgetting that we’re trapped inside these cages,’ Charlie replied, fixing her with a stony look. ‘What’re you planning to do – bust us out?’

A mischievous grin spread across Seren’s face, lighting up her features. ‘That’s exactly what I’m planning to do.’

Charlie laughed, despite himself. ‘Sure, and then what? You think you can take on all those soldiers out there singlehanded?’

‘I could, but I thought you might want to help. You look like you’d be good in a fight.’

Charlie raised his eyebrows. ‘I tend to come off worst.’

It was Seren’s turn to laugh. ‘I did wonder. But in that case, it’s a good thing you’re with me. Just you watch this.’

Her arms outstretched, she brushed the air in a single graceful movement to the right, like an artist wielding two invisible paintbrushes. As though responding to unspoken orders, the heavy steel bolts on the outside of their cell doors scraped to one side.

Lowering her arms, Seren stepped up to the door of her cell, raised a knuckle to the steel, and flicked it open with her index finger. A moment later, Charlie’s cell door was also standing wide open. Seren was leaning against it with her arms folded, a satisfied expression on her face.

Charlie blinked rapidly. ‘What exactly,’ he murmured, ‘did you just do?’

Seren turned to him, grinning wickedly. ’If you liked that, wait ’til you see this.’

With one careless twist of her hand, the steel door at the far end of the cellblock was ripped right out of the wall. Seren giggled and ran straight towards the debris, waving for Charlie to follow her.

Amongst the dust and crumbling stonework, a single guard, who appeared to have been sitting on a chair beside what was now a gaping chasm in the wall, had leapt to his feet. He was fumbling with his rifle and looked petrified.

Seren strode past the wreck of the steel door without so much as a glance at him, while Charlie followed her, speechless.

‘Hey!’ the guard cried, pointing at them. ‘What are you two prisoners doing out of your cells?’

‘Are you bulletproof as well?’ Charlie asked, searching hopelessly for a way out.

‘I don’t need to be,’ Seren answered, laughter in her voice. ‘Watch this.’

‘I said,’ the guard repeated, his voice shaking, ‘what are you two prisoners doing out of your cells? Stop right where you are!’

Charlie’s body tensed, preparing to attack. The guard was younger than he was and did not look as though he would have much chance of beating Charlie in a fight, if it came to that. He still had his knife. What worried him was the rifle in the guard’s hands.

Charlie had just stepped forward, when, from beside him, Seren made a small swiping gesture with her hand. The guard was lifted off his feet and slammed headfirst into the stone wall. He lay crumpled on the flagstones, a trickle of blood oozing from the side of his head.

‘Is this another one of your talents?’ Charlie asked her, sure he was dreaming.

‘Child’s play,’ Seren said, shrugging. ‘There’s nothing to it.’

‘He’s still alive,’ Charlie said dubiously, after checking the guard’s pulse.

‘Don’t worry, by the time he wakes up we’ll be long gone,’ she said, tossing her long hair over her shoulders and flexing her fingers in front of her and above her head.

‘Which way should we go?’ Charlie asked. ‘Do you remember the way out?’

‘Let’s go this way,’ Seren answered, jutting her head to the right.

‘Stay sharp,’ Charlie muttered. ‘This place will be crawling with soldiers.’

‘Soldiers are nothing.’

‘Hunters too.’

Seren paused, then nodded wordlessly, a dark expression settling on her face.

Together, they began walking along the stone passageway. Charlie noticed that Seren kept sneaking glances at his face, although she made sure to look away the instant he returned her gaze. He decided not to say anything about it. She was not hurting anyone, and he had no desire to irritate or offend a witch while he was still in Elysian custody.

After a while, Seren broke the silence. ‘I can’t stop thinking … I have the strangest feeling that I’ve met you somewhere before.’

‘Trust me,’ Charlie said with a small smile, ‘if we’d met, I would remember it.’

‘You definitely remind me of somebody,’ she said, looking him up and down. ‘I’d like to see you on a good day, then I’d be able to know for sure.’

Charlie raised an eyebrow. ‘On a good day?’

She nodded. ‘You know what I mean. When you hadn’t just been beaten up, when you’d done something with that crazy hair, and decided to wear something a bit smarter.’

‘What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now? And what’s wrong with my hair?’

She eyed him closely. ‘Have you considered letting that short side grow in a bit more, or even growing it all out properly? You’d suit long hair, I think. You have the right kind of face for it. Noble. Mysterious.’ She winked. ‘You could look good if you wanted to, you know.’

Charlie, whose hand had leapt to his hair at her words, did not quite know what to say. ‘How do I look to you now?’ he asked carefully. ‘Compared to typical coven tastes, I mean.’

He was quickly becoming familiar with the playful smile that quirked her mouth in response to his question. ‘If my mother were here she would say you look like a – well …’ She paused, smiling ruefully. ‘She’d tell me to stay far away from you, let’s put it like that.’

Charlie grinned, despite himself. ‘I’m glad to hear I could meet a witch’s standards if I wanted to,’ he said. ‘Maybe some glasses to complete the look, what d’you think? But your mother doesn’t need to worry, in any case, since – hey, is something wrong?’

The smile had slipped from Seren’s face. She was frowning now, staring beyond him into the middle distance as though she was seeing something that he could not. ‘He …’ she murmured. ‘He wore glasses.’

‘Who?’

‘The scientist,’ she said, her voice barely audible. ‘He was there when I escaped from the laboratory. He was the one who showed me how to get out of the Facility. He was always kind to me.’

‘What happened to him? D’you think he’d help us – if we found him again?’

‘There were too many soldiers.’ Seren was still frowning as she looked right at him. ‘I thought it was my imagination. But now you’re here and … you look so much like him.’

Charlie was staring at her, wide-eyed. ‘This scientist – do you remember his name?’

Seren appeared to be deep in concentration, as though trying to recall a fading dream. ‘They called him … Maxim.’