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The Darkfern Lexicon Book 2 - Sanctorium

Benjamin Feral


The Darkfern Lexicon

  Book 2

  Sanctorium

  Benjamin Feral

  Copyright © 2015 By Benjamin Feral

  The right of Benjamin Feral to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him.

  All characters, names, places and everything else in this book are a work of fiction, other than those clearly in the public domain. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission please contact the publisher on the email provided - benjamin-feral.com

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Sections of this work were first published in the United Kingdom under the title, Tales of Darkfern

  The Darkfern Lexicon

  Book 2

  Sanctorium

  from the mind of

  Benjamin Feral

  Dedication

  For Terri. Without you there would be no storyteller. Thank you for a childhood filled with inspiration.

  Also in this series

  The Darkfern Lexicon

  Book 1 - Webway

  Chapter 1

  Lonely Rose

  Bellflower’s main street was positively buzzing with activity. The high-street had never experienced a gathering of this scale. The lane was crammed with cars and people. Crowds of onlookers from the surrounding villages had flocked to see the pillar of smoke rising from the forest. They gathered in huddles and whispered predictions of possible causes.

  A police car screeched into view, cobalt light parting the throngs blocking the road. The vehicle came to a halt outside The Lion's Pride. The pub was the only public meeting place in Bellflower; the go-to place for information.

  Sergeant Cooper rose out of the car and quickly moved through the crowd gathered around the entrance. He ignored their questions and requests for news. Will the fire spread? Do you have any suspects? He declined to comment. He was looking for someone, his top priority was her...

  The Sergeant entered the pub and closed the door. He took a few seconds to prepare himself. Dealing with the parent of a missing child was never easy. His own emotions often complicated his job. A policeman was supposed to be strong and dependable. Unsurprisingly he learned to keep his feelings bottled up. This may not have been the best solution but he had a job to do. He fixed his mind on the facts and adopted his stern expression. Cooper stepped into the main body of the bar and scanned the patrons.

  Rose Ryder was sitting at a small table. In her trembling hand she held a small glass of sherry. She sipped at the medicinal-tipple and shook her head in a slow, despondent manner. All around her people fussed and asked questions. When she didn’t respond they gave each other worried glances and whispered their prognosis.

  Despite being surrounded by warm, friendly faces Rose had never felt more alone. Tears drizzled down her cheeks as she relived (for what felt like the hundredth time) the moment she returned to the cottage. She scrunched up her eyes, trying to block the memory, but the inferno was not easily forgotten...

  Rose felt her heart stop as the plume of smoke, punctuated with glowing embers, came into view. She let loose a scream as she slammed on the brakes, leapt from the purple ambulance and ran towards the burning cottage.

  Joseph had to seize her around the waist, halting her attempt to enter the flaming wreckage. Entering a burning building, no matter how important the reason, was always a bad idea. She knew it was too late. The cottage was engulfed in fire but it didn’t matter. Harmony was inside... She had to save her! Grief and shock overcame her and she sobbed in Joe’s arms. Seconds later the roof of the cottage collapsed.

  Rose came back to reality with a sob. The memory was too painful to recall. She had lost her little girl and even Rose couldn't believe that this was meant to happen. No, The Universe must have made a mistake. This had to be a mistake. She couldn’t accept this version of reality...

  Sergeant Cooper walked toward Rose. The jam-packed pub succumbed to silence as he arrived at the small, round table. His steel-grey eyes scanned the woman before him. He fought back the urge to join her sorrow.

  “Ms Ryder?”

  “Yes,” Rose replied, her voice rasped with grief.

  “I have just come from the cottage. The fire is out now,” he began.

  “Where is she?” Rose sobbed. “Where’s my little girl?”

  The Sergeant cleared his throat. “We’re searching for her now.”

  Rose broke down. Her last shred of hope vanished and in its place despair’s dark raven took roost. The mood in the pub became still and sombre. Like damp rising from a musty cellar, gloom soured the air.

  “I’m sorry to do this, but I need to ask a few question,” Sergeant Cooper began.

  “Michael Cooper!” Martha Trotter snapped at the policeman. She strode from behind the wooden bar and came to stand by his side. Her face was caked in disappointment as if it were makeup. “Now’s not the time for questioning. Can’t you see she’s in distress?”

  “I’m ok,” Rose insisted. She lifted her glass of sherry and tipped the remainder of the dark-amber liquid into her mouth. A grimaced twisted her face as she swallowed the overtly-sweet libation. Perhaps that wasn’t the wisest choice.

  The sergeant took out a small notebook and a pen. He flicked through a few pages before finding the scribbles he sought. “Now it’s my understanding that you left your daughter alone at the cottage. Is this correct?”

  “I wanted to teach her a lesson,” Rose admitted. “I didn’t think any harm would come of it. She’s fourteen in a few days...”

  “I see. Does she have a history of starting fires?”

  “You think she started the fire?” Rose blurted.

  “I have to investigate every possibility, Ms Ryder.”

  The Sergeant’s radio crackled. A distorted voice buzzed and hissed some indecipherable information. He pressed the button to respond and said. “Say that again, over.” The voice repeated the crackled-response and the policeman looked at Rose.

  “Oh, please no. You’ve found her haven’t you?” she sobbed.

  “I’ve had confirmation that your daughter was not in the property.”

  The entire bar collectively gasped. Rose was lost for words. She shook her head not yet daring to believe what he said.

  “Maybe she started the fire accidentally and then ran away?” Martha suggested. “We should search the forest for her.”

  “She’ll try to find help. Harmony’s a good girl, she wouldn’t run away from a problem,” Rose assured.

  “She won’t find much help in the woods,” Martha continued. She looked at Joseph King and the bite mark on his arm.

  The policeman stood up and turned to face the crowd. He cleared his throat, stifling any chatter, before he began to speak. “Right then, listen up everyone. We have a young girl lost in the forest. We need everyone to form search parties.”

  Rose was not listening. Her mind reeled from the information. She had believed Harmony was inside the cottage. The revelation she was alive was a bit of a bombshell.

  Rose tried to listen to the militaristic-orders being issued by Martha. The landlady had taken charge of the civilian search at the request of Sergeant Cooper. She was efficiently organising the groups by telling each person wh
ere to start their search. With a precise tap of her finger she indicated areas on a map of the woods.

  Before sending the parties off Martha held a photo of Harmony in the air. She passed it to a man on her right and instructed everyone to have a good look at it. As they did she gave a description of Harmony’s clothing.

  “Harmony has been missing since this morning. We think she left Darkfern Cottage and headed into the forest. Given that information we will all start from there. Are there any questions?” Martha asked. When no-one spoke she turned to Rose. “Would you like to say anything, dear?”

  Rose nodded and stood up. “Thank you all for helping. I...it’s my fault. I never should have left her alone.”

  Joseph appeared at her side. He put his arm around her and she sobbed into his shoulder. “Nobody blames you, Rose. We're all here to help,” he reassured with a smile.

  “Right people let’s move. There are only a few hours of light left. So please remember to bring your torch,” Martha advised. She folded the map and placed it in her jacket pocket.

  Rose and Joe filed out of the pub with everyone else and got into his van. Every inhabitant of Bellflower along with many people from other villages climbed into cars. All along the street engines rumbled into life. Then, like a procession of festival floats, they began to head off in the direction of the cottage.

  “What if we can't find her, Joe?” Rose said. She watched the cars driving away. “What will I do without her?”

  “We will find her, Rose. People have wandered off into the woods before and we have always found them. Just you wait and see. Before you know it she’ll be back with you,” he maintained with certainty.

  “What if the wolf that bit you has got her? What if it came back and dragged her off?” Rose wept into her hands.

  Joseph looked at his arm. The scabbed puncture wounds itched fiercely. The wound was still fresh even after all this time; a painful reminder of that terrible night.

  “Don't think like that. Those thoughts won't do you or Harmony any good. That monster is long gone.”

  “I know. I can feel that she's safe. Inside I can tell that she’s ok,” she replied. A small smile spread across her lips at the feeling Harmony really was ok.