Darkmoor

By Mark Hawkes

Setting out on a west coast island vacation with their mother, fourteen-year-old Meredith and her younger brother Brian have no idea they are about to be thrust into an adventure that will severely test their bodies, minds, and sheer will to survive. The restful visit with their aunt and uncle quickly turns into a bizarre nightmare as monstrous faces appear in mirrors, and the siblings are confronted by a mysterious old hermit with a one-eyed raven. When Brian is abducted, Meredith has no choice but to go after him, accompanied by Mollie the border collie, and an ill-tempered, but well-meaning troll. Brian and Meredith soon find themselves caught up in the deadly power struggle of another world, where strange and loathsome creatures such as Storm Crows and Shadowlings roam a foreign landscape, a fearsome Huntsman stalks his prey by night, a Numerologist travels backwards through time, and the enigmatic Prince Darkmoor pursues his vengeance and his destiny.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark Hawkes
• Release date: May 26, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301050093

Mark Hawkes

I've been a storyteller all of my life. I love to read, and I'm a history buff. I like to merge what we do know about history with creative conjecture to bring historical figures and times to life for my readers. I've written short stories, plays, novels, and even a role-playing game. I've won numerous writing contests. My current project is a non-fiction book about my family history.

Book preview

Darkmoor

by Mark Hawkes

Copyright 2013 Mark Hawkes

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Also by Mark Hawkes at Smashwords.com:

Island Dragon

To Lord Dunsany, for taking us beyond the fields we know.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter One

Meredith leaned, arms crossed, on the chipped, white-enameled railing of the ferry, relishing a foul mood that even the beauty of her surroundings could not dispel. The glinting waves, the hovering gulls, the rugged browns and greens of the island looming ahead; none of it seemed to register on her. She stared right through it all, wallowing in the kind of deeply rooted anger that takes years to cultivate. Behind her Brian, her younger brother, hopped and staggered about the car-deck using his nylon jacket to catch the wind like a sail.

Hey, Mer...look! he called, in his annoying twelve-year-old's voice.

Get a life, you loser! she replied without turning around.

Get a life, get a life, get a life.... he mimicked as he pranced and capered about her like a demented ape. He was careful to stay just out of reach.

She took a swing at him anyway. Get lost, you little jerk!

Meredith! Both of you come back to the car: the ferry will be docking soon! Her mother's voice made her wince inwardly. She was leaning out of the driver's window, dark sunglasses over a slash of umber rose lipstick, beckoning with one hand.

Brian took this in, and then favored Meredith with a grotesque face. I get the front seat! he shouted before dashing off.

Meredith rolled her eyes toward the cloudless summer sky and sighed heavily. With an affected shake of her shoulder-length brown hair, she reached into the pocket of her low slung jeans and pulled out a pair of designer sunglasses. She was especially fond of them: her father had given them to her last year for her thirteenth birthday and she thought she looked particularly cool in them. She put them on and slouched back to her mother's red Accura.

When she got to the car, of course, her brother was already ensconced in the front seat—as promised. He smiled smugly at her. She gave him a look that would have peeled paint, and swung into the back. She picked up her smartphone, popped in the ear buds and started listening to her music.

The car crept off of the ferry and onto Gabriola Island. It was the height of the summer tourist season and the waterfront was humming with activity. Everywhere people wandered, pushed bikes, or waited impatiently beside their cars in the ferry line-up that stretched out of sight up the hill. Children and dogs charged randomly through the parking-lot.

The Accura moved quickly on past the White Hart pub and up the road that led inland. There, Meredith's aunt and uncle lived in retired bliss on five wooded acres that included a duck-pond.

Mom, do Aunt Carol and Uncle Kyle still have Molly? Brian suddenly asked. He had first met Molly the border collie when she was only three months old and had instantly fallen in love. The feeling was mutual. His aunt and uncle had lived in Victoria then, and he had spent hours playing with Molly whenever they visited. Unfortunately, early retirement three years ago had resulted in a move away from the city, and no opportunity to visit had presented itself since.

Yes, sure they do...bet she'll be happy to see you! Meredith, did you remember to pack your sunscreen?

Meredith, engrossed in her music, was blithely oblivious to her mother's question.

Meredith!

That got her attention. What? she asked, annoyed.

Turn that thing down—do you want to go deaf, for God's sake? I asked you if brought your sunscreen.

Yeah, yeah. She left the volume where it was.

Good. Now don't forget to use it. You too, Brian.

Her mother was an attractive woman in her early-forties, with short honey-blond hair that would have been tinged with grey if it wasn't for a little help from a bottle. As a successful Vancouver real estate agent, she was normally lavishly made-up and impeccably dressed. Today, however, she was on vacation, and she was wearing minimal make-up, a tee shirt from Maui and a pair of white shorts.

Look! A deer! shouted Brian, as he pointed to the trees on the right of the road.

Three, actually, added his mother, matter-of-factly. The island's full of them. Best time to see them is early morning or at twilight. Maybe you can get a picture of one, Meredith...Meredith!

Meredith removed one ear-bud. What?

Her mother shook her head and sighed. Never mind.

Before long they pulled into a curving gravel driveway that wound its way into the heart of a heavily-wooded property. The driveway emerged from the trees into a cleared area where there stood a very comfortable-looking cottage. The cottage was nestled in a luxuriant garden bursting with colour and filled with flitting birds and diligent bees. Off to the left and down a gentle slope was a gleaming duck-pond complete with an armada of mallards happily preening and dipping for bottom-dwelling delicacies.

This tranquil scene was disrupted by a sudden flapping of wings and frenzied quacking as another group of ducks came scrambling into view along the grassy shore, a black and white blur lunging and surging at their rear. It was Molly the border collie practicing her trade, head down and eyes intense.

Brian leapt out of the car. Molly! Here girl! Here Molly! Com'on girl! he called, excitedly.

The dog froze, its head snapping around towards them before recognition dawned and she dashed up to greet them, her paws barely touching earth. In an instant she was all over Brian in a frenzy of licking and wagging. They tumbled to the grass in a writhing, giggling mass.

Brian! You'll get grass stains! complained his mother half-heartedly, as she got out of the car, arms full of purse and bags. Of course, he ignored her and continued to play with the dog.

Meredith stepped out of the car, regarding the cottage and grounds with grudging approval. Hey, this place is kinda cool, she allowed.

Marilyn! Welcome!

Aunt Carol had appeared on the verandah and now rushed forward with open arms. A large woman with an equally huge smile, she embraced her sister exuberantly and stood back to look at her.

You look great! And the kids—have they ever grown!

Thanks, Carol. You're looking good, too.....Kids, say hello to your Aunt!

Brian shrieked something in between giggles and Meredith grunted Hi, without looking over.

Molly, that's enough! Here! Carol called.

The dog immediately disentangled itself from Brian and trotted over to her mistress's side. She sat down and looked up at Carol expectantly, tongue lolling.

Good girl. Carol said, absently ruffling the dog's ears.

Where's Kyle? asked Marilyn.

Carol gave a dismissive wave of her hand. Oh, he's still out in the boat: he's determined that we'll have fresh salmon for dinner. I told him it would be easier just to buy one at the market, but you know that stubborn male ego.... They both laughed.

Finally, Carol clapped her hands together and said, Well, come on inside everyone—lunch is waiting!

Marilyn turned to Brian. Bring in the rest of the bags, will you Bri?

Aww, Mom...how come Meredith doesn't have to...

She'll bring in her own. Don't start with me.

Oh, all right... he muttered as he headed for the trunk of the car.

By the time lunch was finished and the last chocolate macaroon had disappeared down Brian's gullet, Uncle Kyle arrived home proudly bearing a six pound Pink salmon. He displayed it to everyone as they sat relaxing on the verandah.

Well, it won't set any records, he admitted, "but it'll make a good feed for the five of us—oh, sorry Molly: six of us." Kyle was a tall man, over six feet, and built like an athlete. He had a dark, bushy mustache shot through with grey, as was his unruly hair.

I'll go back out tomorrow morning and see if I can do better. Wanna come, Brian?

Sure! Brian answered enthusiastically, his eyes wide.

How about you, Meredith? Uncle Kyle asked.

Ha! laughed her mother. "You won't see her out of bed before ten!"

Kyle pursed his lips. "Well, we do start a little earlier than that, say about...six?"

Meredith grimaced, I don't think so. Thanks, but no thanks.

Kyle shrugged as he headed inside to the kitchen. You don't know what you're missin', kid.

I'd like to keep it that way.

Mom, can I take Molly for a walk? asked Brian, suddenly.

You'd better ask your Aunt.

Oh, sure, Brian. Though I think it'll be the other way 'round: Molly knows every square centimeter of territory out there, and she's laid claim to it all. Just don't step into any wasps’ nests--they've been particularly bad this year, and stay away from Old Danton's property behind us.

Old Danton? asked Marilyn.

Yeah. He's a crazy old coot, you know: the eccentric type. He's got quite a reputation amongst the kids on the Island: they're scared stiff of him.

Is he dangerous? Marilyn asked, concerned.

Carol shook her head quickly, No, no. I'm sure he's harmless. It's just that he's sort of mysterious, you know: a real hermit—people hardly ever see him. He's lived here as long as anyone can remember, and that goes back a way, what with some of the old-timers on this island. Sort of a Howard Hughes type, I suppose. He's got a pet crow.

Really? Cool. Brian was already intrigued and impressed.

His mother gave him a warning look, and then turned back to her sister. But how does he survive? Is he rich?

Carol laughed. Heavens, no! He's quite good a woodcarving: sells his work to the craft shop. I guess it pays the bills.

Marilyn looked skeptical. Well you stay clear of him, Brian, you hear?

Yeah, yeah, he answered, half-heartedly. See ya! Come on, Molly! He dashed out across the yard towards the duck pond, the dog quickly out-distancing him.

Don't be late for dinner! his mother called after him.

Brian and Molly swept past the duck pond, scattering indignant mallards as they went. Onward they surged, across the wide expanse of cut lawn and into the meadow beyond. Molly's back rose and fell amongst the tall grass like a dolphin leaping through a golden sea. Brian laughed as he ran, sucking in sweet gulps of fresh summer air, while grass and weeds whipped, unheeded, across his bare legs.

Wait up, Molly! he gasped. Slow down, girl!

The dog paused long enough to glance back over her shoulder but, satisfied that her companion was still following, quickly set off again.

High overhead, a red-tailed hawk circled patiently in the sharp sky, watching. Brian paused for breath, and raised one hand to shade his eyes as he squinted upwards. He envied the hawk its ability to fly, a feat that had always fascinated him. His room at home was cluttered with kites, model airplanes, and even a hot air balloon painstakingly fashioned with glue and tissue paper.

A single, sharp bark brought him out of his reverie; Molly was standing a short distance away with her back to him. She was staring at something ahead of her in the grass. Her tail was raised over her rump like a standard and her hackles were slowly rising up.

Brian frowned and began to move closer, peering into shadows between the stalks of coarse grass. What's the matter girl? What d'ya see?

As if in answer, the dog began to growl low in its throat.

For an instant, Brian thought he saw something olive green and black, like some kind of mottled and leathery-skinned animal, but then it vanished into the tall grass.

Molly shot forward. With a shout, Brian ran after her. All he was able to see of her was an occasional glimpse of her back as she bounded, but the white tip of her tail whipped about like a banner rallying him on. In the excitement of the chase he was oblivious to the sharp-edged grass and occasional thistles that lashed and pricked his legs as he plunged on.

They wove an erratic course through the field, drawing ever nearer to the shadowy woods that bounded the property. Brian was breathing hard and sweating in the heat of the afternoon sun, which seemed to rebound in waves from the light-coloured ground. Through squinting eyes he saw a dark, gangly creature bolt out of the grass and into the underbrush at the edge of the trees. It had covered the rocky expanse in between in three agile leaps. Molly did it in two.

Molly! For the first time, Brian began to have doubts about the wisdom of this chase. He'd never seen an animal like that before; what if it was dangerous? And those trees looked kind of spooky...hadn't his mother said something about an old man he was supposed to stay away from?

But he couldn't just let Molly run off: what if she kept running until she got lost? What if the creature attacked her, or something?

He plunged onward, oblivious to the NO TRESPASSING sign nailed to one of the trees.

The cool of the woods enveloped him like a blessing. The light here was suffused with a greenish glow and the scent of vegetation filled the still air. The trees were mostly big, old Douglas Firs and twisted, peeling-skinned Arbutus. Salal, huckleberry, and sword ferns filled up most of the space between the trees, but there were narrow wildlife paths winding here and there.

Brian spotted Molly's tail disappearing down one of them.

With a renewed burst of energy he dashed down the trail, ducking, dodging, and flinging branches aside as he went. Despite this, because the ground itself was fairly even and softly carpeted with fallen fir-needles, he was able to run faster than he had in the meadow. Of course, this was true for Molly too.

All Brian could hear was the rasping of his own breath and the thumping of his runners on the trail. Everything began to take on an unreal, dream-like quality and time seemed to slow down. His lungs ached and he could feel his pulse pounding. His body was aching to stop—begging him to stop. He began to think that maybe he should take a little break...just to catch his breath.

Then he burst into the clearing. It contained a small pond with rocks, rotting logs, and moss. In the fraction of a second it took him to register all of this he also saw the fleeing creature dart to the edge of the pond, hop from a rock, to another rock, to a half-submerged log where it turned and cast one brief, but altogether chilling, glare back at Brian. Then, even as Molly came crashing through the water in pursuit, it dove beneath the mirror-like surface.

Molly followed after it an instant later, ducking her head completely underwater in a vain attempt to locate her quarry. Finally, dripping and dejected, she clambered back onto the shore and came squirming up to Brian, her tongue lolling.

Good girl, he said patting her wet fur. She licked his hand.

He crept closer to the water, peering for some sign of the vanished creature. The water was brown and brackish, although not overly deep. Water-striders skittered away as he approached and mosquito larvae convulsed their way back down to the muck on the bottom. Brian stepped onto the log and inched his way out along it, extending his arms for balance. Back on the shore Molly whined softly.

Brian looked over at her. Its okay girl, don't worry—that thing's gone now, he said, more to reassure himself than the dog.

He looked back down at the water and there, just below the surface was a scowling, leathery face. The eyes were slit and yellow, and the snarling mouth was rimmed with needle-sharp teeth. Brian yelped and nearly fell in, his arms pin-wheeling wildly as he struggled to regain his balance. He staggered half-falling, back along the log and leapt to the shore where he was bowled over by a relieved Molly. They struggled briefly until the dog finally sat back on her haunches and allowed him to sit up and stroke her chest.

It's okay, now girl...everything's okay now, he sighed.

A deep, resonant voice came from behind him, I wouldn't be so sure about that.

Brian craned his head around to see a tall old man standing a few meters behind him. On his shoulder perched a soot-black crow, its head tilted so it could regard Brian with one beady eye. The man had long white hair and a flowing beard to match. He