The boat hits solid ground and the boy goes to jump off. One of the wren lunges out to grip his ankle. ‘Beware the lake!’
The boy nods and secures the boat to a mooring. Soon I’m carried to the beach and dumped there. The moment my body hits the rocky surface, the wren clamber as fast as they can back into the boat.
The boy looks at me and how near I am to the water’s edge, then at the wren. ‘The tide is coming in and he is too weak to walk to the temple.’
‘Forget him. We won’t hesitate to leave without you. Get in! Quickly, the lake is swelling!’
The boy ignores the wren’s threat, and taking his own initiative, helps me walk to higher ground. ‘The temple is not far now and you are over the worst of the climb.’ He turns from me, searching the ground around us. He comes back with an old broken branch, thrusting it into my hand. ‘Here, lean on this and keep walking away from the lake.’
‘You have a kind soul,’ I tell him.
‘I’m not doing this for you. My soul belongs to the Goddess,’ he says, clearly annoyed, perhaps for having revealed so much of himself. He spins away.
‘Wait,’ I call out. ‘I don’t even know your name.’
For a second I feel the boy hesitate. ‘She calls me Bastian.’
‘Yes, but what is your real name?’
He looks over his shoulder at me, but doesn’t answer. Then he says, ‘I will tell you, if you answer me one question.’
‘Anything.’
‘Why didn’t you select me to be one of the Named?’
His question is so unexpected I find myself speechless. He takes one look at my open mouth and turns from me to the waiting boat. I follow it until its torchlight becomes a pin-prick in the distance. Then it too is gone.
And now I am alone. I have to find shelter, even if it’s with a ‘ghost’, or whatever it is that has the wren running scared. Something about the incoming tide is more dangerous than the below-freezing temperature. But my eyes are confronted with nothing but darkness. Even with the branch for support I stumble and fall several times, and the effort it takes to rise again exhausts me. My mind drifts near unconsciousness. But I haven’t lived six hundred years to take my last breath on a desolate beach in total isolation. I try to keep my mind active, and recall that night in France when Isabel dozed with her head against my chest. That night I kissed the top of her head. Had she been awake, what would she have thought? Would she have turned her face up to mine? Her image brings an even sharper pain to my ribs than their fractures do. She has to be spending a lot of time with Ethan, probably working on a rescue plan. She loved Ethan not so long ago. Does she still? Thoughts of Isabel with Ethan have me sinking into the freezing rocks.
A soft light pierces the darkness. Am I awake, or have I drifted into some miserable delusional state? I blink to clear my vision. Someone – or something – approaches. As it draws nearer I see it’s a girl coming. A young girl. She’s wearing a white gown to mid-calf. But the strangest part about her is that her skin looks as if it’s luminous. And stranger still, I think I can see straight through her!
She comes right up to me and tilts her head. ‘You’re Arkarian.’
It’s not a question. This girl knows who I am. And now, looking upon her angelic face, framed by a head of black bouncing curls, softly illuminated by her white gown and gently glowing skin, I recognise her too. ‘My dear little Sera, is it really you? What are you doing here in this nightmarish place?’
She giggles and squeezes her fists, shaking them in the air and jumping around in a circle. Eventually she calms down, a serious frown marring her innocent youthful features. ‘You have to get up and come with me. The ice waters are swelling. And it’s going to rain. Look!’
I glance up, but can’t see a thing. ‘Can you see in this darkness?’
‘No. But I can tell.’ She points to her head. ‘My brain just tells me. So hurry, Arkarian. You have to get under cover.’ She urges me upwards with her hands.
A thought hits me. ‘Are you an angel?’
She laughs, doubling over. ‘You won’t find an angel in this horrible place.’
Using the branch I pull myself up, and Sera urges me to put one foot before the other. ‘Where are you taking me?’
‘To the temple of course. You silly thing. Where else?’
I have no idea, so I stay silent.
‘The temple is safe. You’ll be warm there, and I can take care of you.’
‘Do you have soothing balms?’
‘I have nothing!’ she pouts sulkily. ‘Except water that Bastian brings me.’
‘Bastian looks after you?’
Her slender shoulders lift and she seems to lose concentration for a moment. ‘Sometimes he visits. But never if Marduke is around. Oooh!’ she cries in a shrill voice. ‘How I hate him! And his ugly beasts!’
‘The wren are afraid of you.’
She shivers. ‘And I am afraid of them. But I know it’s really the temple they fear. It protects me from them. A long time ago people lived here, you know. It’s an old story.’
‘Please tell me about it.’
‘It was a beautiful world. The temple was a place of worship. A place where the people could speak to their god and he would visit with them. But then the dark came and covered all the land. They built the lake around the temple to protect themselves.’
‘What happened to these people?’
She shrugs her thin shoulders. ‘They needed their sun to exist. And when the darkness was complete, everything started to die. After a while they had no food to eat. They grew weak. Evil grew strong. Eventually they disappeared. After a long time without people, many more creatures came to live here.’
‘The wren?’
‘Yes, and others too. Then the flowers started to grow.’
‘Flowers?’
‘Black ones.’ She points over her shoulder. But without light it’s impossible to even estimate where she’s pointing.
‘How did you come by this story?’
‘The flowers told me. They told me a lot of old stories.’
While the idea of flowers ‘talking’ sounds strange, who am I to doubt? I know nothing of this world’s inhabitants, except for the wren; and they’re certainly unusual.
‘Have you been safe here, Sera?’
‘I’ve been lonely, but I’d rather live alone than with those ugly beasts. As long as they think I’m a ghost, they let me be.’
Her words make me give a little laugh inside. I pay for it with pain from my broken ribs. ‘Pardon me for saying, Sera, but … you are a ghost.’ Her crestfallen face has me remembering that Sera was only a child of ten when Marduke murdered her. What does she remember of her other life? What has her time here done to her sanity? ‘You do know that you died in the mortal world thirteen years ago?’
She sighs, the outer edges of her pursed lips sinking downwards. ‘I know I died. But I didn’t know it was so long ago! I’m so old now!’
I begin to understand Sera’s problem. ‘You’re trapped here. Your soul can’t move on.’
Suddenly she grins, and her eyes become as luminous as her skin for a brief moment. ‘But now everything will be well!’
I stumble on a rock and almost fall, but somehow Sera helps me maintain my balance. How she does this is amazing. I can feel her touch me, yet her hands, her arms in fact, go partially through me. ‘Thank you,’ I say, then ask, ‘But how can my coming to this island be good for you? I’m trapped too now.’
We start walking again, slowly. ‘When they come to rescue you, they’ll rescue me too.’
Her words make me go still. I don’t want Isabel or Ethan, or anyone, to come. It could mean their death, or entrapment. But now here’s Sera. She’s been stuck in this place for a long time. Doesn’t she deserve a chance of freedom?
At my hesitation she frowns, her eyes narrowing to the point of almost disappearing. ‘They will come, Arkarian. My brother will come. And he will bring the girl.’
She s
kips ahead of me. I wish I could share her excitement. My mind’s a battlefield right now. ‘How can you be so certain Ethan and Isabel will come?’
She comes running back. ‘Oh I’ve made sure of it. After all the years of trying, I’ve finally reached someone.’
‘Who have you reached, Sera?’
‘The girl. The girl with the psychic skills.’
‘Do you mean Isabel?’
She shrugs her little shoulders. ‘I tried to reach my brother, and my mother many, many times. But it didn’t work. Ethan would scream like I whipped him or something and block me out. And my mother would only cry. But the girl, the girl you call Isabel. The one that loves my brother. She will come. I have shown her. I have shown her the temple and …’
Sera’s words drone on, but my thoughts lock on to two things: now that a link has been made, Isabel will do anything she can to come here, the connection will strike her deeply; and, according to Sera, Isabel is still in love with Ethan.
Chapter Fourteen
Isabel
The last time I came to Athens, and stood in this peaceful golden courtyard, was the day of Ethan’s trial, when he thought he was going to be ex-communicated, and ended up being awarded one of the Guard’s highest honours – his wings. It was a day I will never forget for its tumultuous emotions. I have a feeling today will also be full of surprises, but not the kind one looks forward to. Neither Ethan nor I is on trial, yet I’m picking up an uneasy sense to this summons.
We wait for a sign to know where to go or who to see. The sign comes in the form of Lord Penbarin himself, the Lord of Samartyne. A giant of a man, today he wears a floor-length robe of shimmering red – not a good colour or fabric for a man his size. Hurriedly I switch my thoughts, remembering well how all the members of the Tribunal are Truthseers, and I’m not sure if it’s possible to screen my thoughts from them.
‘Welcome,’ Lord Penbarin greets us. ‘Come, good food is waiting.’
‘We’re not hungry,’ I reply, without giving Ethan a chance to say a word. Food, right now, would only make me vomit. ‘My lord, if you please, may we begin?’
‘You’re in such a hurry, my dear, I fear today you’ll be disappointed. Lorian is in a mood fit to kill. Has been ever since …’ He pauses, then continues without finishing his thought, ‘Come, at least partake of a drink while the Tribunal gather.’
Once inside the marble hallway, the temperature drops to something much more comfortable. Lord Penbarin leads us to a table laden with hot and cold food. I sip a glass of wine, but find it difficult to swallow. My heart is pounding with the anticipation I feel inside. I just want to get on with this ordeal.
Finally we’re shown into the Tribunal Chambers. It’s exactly as I remember – circular marble walls, with eight of the nine leaders of their Houses sitting in clock-like fashion. The first is Lady Devine of the House of Divinity. She sits left of the Immortal, while beside her sits Lord Meridian of Kavannah, and Queen Brystianne of the House of Averil in all her gold finery. Next in the circle is Sir Syford, Lady Elenna of Isle, Lord Alexandon of the House of Criers, and the delicate-looking Lady Arabella. Finally, and last to take his seat, is Lord Penbarin. But today there remains one vacant chair, laid out for Veridian’s own King – Richard – who is apparently still recovering in the healing chambers, having been brought here through time, body and all.
Ethan and I are invited to sit side by side on stools provided. As we do, Lorian starts the proceedings, ‘You have been brought here today for two purposes.’
I heave a sigh of relief. At last someone is ready to get to the point!
Lorian’s skin flares for a moment and I remember to curb my thoughts. ‘The first is to reveal the Tribunal’s distress. As you know, Arkarian has been taken to the underworld, held there while Lathenia decides how best to use him now that her plans to eliminate him at birth have failed.’ Lorian pauses, allowing us to absorb these words, or, the thought occurs to me with a shiver, prepare ourselves for what’s to come.
Soon Lorian continues, ‘The second is this: and I say these words clearly so that there will be no confusion, and you will understand my command. Arkarian is aware of his … unfortunate situation, and he understands the Tribunal’s dilemma.’
‘What dilemma is that?’ I ask, without quite making eye contact. The last time I did, the power of the Immortal’s gaze sent me flying backwards with a jolt of blinding heat.
Lorian continues as if I didn’t speak, ‘Without Arkarian the Guard is severely disadvantaged.’
Well, this much I know.
Lorian pauses and stares at me. I gulp deeply, reminding myself to shut off my inner thoughts. After an uncomfortable silence Lorian continues, ‘To risk a rescue mission would be to risk the lives of other members of the Guard, with the very probable consequence of losing them, disadvantaging the Guard to a point that may tip the balance of power in the Goddess’s favour. Our very tenuous hold could slip. Remember, protecting the city of Veridian is vital to our success. It is the Named that are tasked with this guardianship. There are riches within the city walls that cannot be measured in terms of monetary wealth. If Lathenia should take control she will become infinitely more powerful. We cannot let this happen.’
The Immortal’s words are starting to sink in, but I don’t like what I’m hearing, or where I think they’re heading. I swallow down my fear. ‘What exactly are you saying, my lord?’
This time Lorian answers me directly. ‘Any rescue mission planned for Arkarian will not go ahead.’
Ethan and I jump out of our seats. Ethan gets a word out first, ‘But—’ Except one withering look from Lorian has him freezing up fast.
For me it’s clearer than black and white. ‘How can you sit so calmly in your mighty chair and command Arkarian’s death? You must know that’s exactly what you’re doing by denying us the chance to rescue him. If it’s not already too late.’
My words have the effect of bringing a hushed stillness into the Chambers. Lorian stares down at me. I force myself not to connect with the Immortal’s gaze. Right now it would probably burn holes in my head. ‘Do you think this is an easy command I make?’
My head shakes a negative; words have disappeared. I feel, without having to look up, the intensity of Lorian’s glare.
‘Isabel, you have no concept of what it has taken me. What it has taken from me, to make this decision.’
Bone dry right to the bottom of my throat, I try to work moisture into my mouth so that I can form words again. ‘Then I beg of you, tell me why.’
Lorian explains: ‘Lathenia is on a rampage. She has escalated the war between us, unintentionally drawing a final confrontation nearer. It’s as if she doesn’t have a care or concern for her own armies. This is a new tactic. This is what we are up against now – a fearless enemy. An enemy willing to risk all – and I mean all!’
Lorian pauses a moment. ‘I am not willing to risk all.’
And then, ‘You have not thought this through. If you were to go into the underworld, you would not have your bodily disguises.’
‘My lord,’ I say my words quickly, before they dry up again beneath the Immortal’s stare. ‘Arkarian is without a disguise. So too is Lathenia. And I believe the Order are only moments away from discovering Ethan’s identity anyway.’
‘That may well be, but more is at risk than you think. Lathenia is making moves that will prove catastrophic to our world and hers too. She doesn’t live in the underworld. It is a piteous place where men turn into beasts. It is a place for the soul-less.’ Lorian inhales deeply, shoulders expanding and lifting beneath the silver cloak as power emanates from him.
I find the stool beneath my fingers and sit on it. Ethan follows, his breathing harsh and loud. If he were prone to asthma, I’d think he was having an attack.
Lorian continues in our silence, ‘Have you noticed certain changes in your mortal world?’
This has us thinking, remembering that odd day at school, the slip in the unifor
m code.
‘Have you noticed a hint of darkness in the wind that comes from the north?’ These words have our heads shooting up. I struggle to keep my eyes from connecting with Lorian’s, feeling an urge to search them for a clue. As for the darkness, I haven’t noticed anything … yet.
‘You will,’ Lorian interrupts my thoughts, reminding me how careful I have to be. ‘Members of the Tribunal are reporting failed missions under their control. Several have lost soldiers. It won’t be long before our world changes beyond repair. The situation is so desperate the present is becoming a feeding ground for the advancing armies of Chaos. We cannot let this continue. We cannot risk losing a further two important members of our Guard. We are already reinstating your missing members. Rochelle will return immediately. Neriah, who is still to be initiated, is already in your care, Isabel. So hear my words.’ Lorian’s voice explodes into my brain, ‘Until Lathenia’s rage reduces, and we begin to gain back ground, Arkarian remains where he is. There is to be no rescue mission. I forbid it!’
To the Immortal it is clear this meeting is over. But my heart is crying out to be heard. The very thought of living another day without Arkarian makes me feel desperate inside. And so the words come: ‘I can’t follow your command, my lord.’
Ethan inhales a sharp breath and digs his fingers into my arm firmly. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
I yank my arm out of his grasp and get to my feet. The stool beneath me shoots out and tumbles backwards, making a loud noise in the deathly silence. ‘I can’t obey you,’ I repeat more forcefully. ‘You see, for most of my life I’ve looked after myself. If there was a problem I fixed it – on my own. It’s how I live. Perhaps in my small world these matters are innocent and unimportant, and I’m never in any real danger, but right now there is someone in trouble, someone I care for – we all care for – and I know in my heart that I can fix this. Thanks to Lady Arabella and her gift to me, I only need a drop of light to see. And most importantly, I ask for no assistance. In this way the risk to the Guard will be minimal. If you will allow me to try, I will bring Arkarian back.’