Beside me Ethan groans and slowly gets to his feet. ‘Um, well, I’m with her. And no offence to Isabel, but I think the two of us together have a better chance of rescuing Arkarian.’
I smile at him, and with a little more enthusiasm he says, ‘Arkarian was my Trainer, and my mentor for nearly all my life. When I was a child, he stopped me from losing my sanity. I owe him as a brother and as a friend. Please reconsider your command, my lord.’
Lorian remains silent. Maybe the Immortal will relate to a more logical argument. I wave my arms around to include the Tribunal members, hoping to get some response, some support from them. ‘Look, everything we do while the Goddess is on the warpath is more dangerous than anything we’ve done before. Arkarian is vital to Veridian. Everyone in this room is conscious of that fact. We need all our players to fulfil the Prophecy successfully, so we must take the risk to rescue Arkarian, or all will be lost anyway. Can’t you see?’
Still the Chamber remains silent, and my frustration grows. ‘Why don’t you answer me? I thought you knew everything! How come you don’t know how to get Arkarian back?’
Lorian stands, and the suddenness of it has everyone gasping and holding their breath. I have a fraction of a second to realise I over-stepped my mark.
Lorian’s hands do a wide sweep of the room, and from them explodes a chilling flame of blue fire, hurling and unfolding straight at us with the speed of a rocket in full flight. Every person, Lord, Queen and King alike, dives to the floor. This curtain of pulsing flame hovers threateningly over us for a few seconds, making us shiver with the sudden plunge in temperature. Power surges through our bodies, rocking us, and I understand this is a display meant for us to feel the Immortal’s strength, and not just see it.
In a flash the flame retracts, and everyone breathes again, murmuring to each other. Lorian speaks inside our heads, as if speaking verbally is beyond the Immortal’s own capability at the moment.
The room falls silent as each of us receives this message. None of us is left in doubt of the Immortal’s command. Arkarian remains in the underworld. I have spoken. Now everyone leave me. Everyone!
Chapter Fifteen
Isabel
I wake in my bed with a wild jolt to my heart, the power of Lorian’s rage still thundering through every cell of my body. I get another start when I see Matt sitting in my plastic lounge, reading. He notices I’m back and puts the book aside. ‘What happened? You look like you just returned from the dead.’
It takes a minute to catch my breath, then I tell him about my visit to Athens, and how Lorian informed us of the precarious position the Guard has found itself in. ‘Lorian forbade any attempt to rescue Arkarian, and …’
‘And …?’
‘I inadvertently provoked an immortal rage.’
‘What!’
‘Lorian swept the chamber with this incredible blue fire. It was like ice. It went right through me.’ I hold up my hands. They’re still shaking.
Matt stares at me. ‘You idiot.’
‘Well thanks, and here I was thinking you cared.’
‘You made this … this superior being mad at you? Are you insane? What were you thinking?’
‘OK, I hear you. Don’t worry, I’m not going to do it again.’
‘I’m glad to hear it, Isabel.’
His sarcastic comment ticks me off. ‘Well, thanks. At least I get things done!’
He doesn’t respond, and I feel like a heel for having the cheap stab at him. ‘Sorry,’ I mumble.
‘Forget it.’
We’re silent for a minute. ‘Before the mad rage Lorian let us know that Rochelle is coming back. Are you going to be all right with that?’
He glances away to the door, then swings his gaze down to his bare feet and stares at his toes for what seems like ages. Finally he looks up at me, ‘If it were up to me, and I wasn’t involved in this Guard stuff, I’d try to win her back, with everything I have.’
His words make my stomach churn. ‘But now?’
He gets up and stands looking out at a starry night sky. ‘Unlike you, I’m not an idiot.’
‘Jerk.’
He smiles briefly, his jaw sliding first left, then right. ‘I don’t like the fact that I was being used by Marduke, or anyone, but …’ he sighs. ‘Look, maybe Rochelle didn’t have much choice.’
‘Seems to me that she only had two: pretend to love you, or be tortured by Marduke. Maybe she wasn’t strong enough to stand up to him. Maybe he held other things over her as well. Things you won’t know about until she’s released from her de-briefing and the two of you get a chance to talk.’
He nods.
‘I’m sure her decisions were difficult to make.’ Of course not becoming Marduke’s spy in the first place would have been her best one.
And yet there is another twist to Rochelle’s tale. Ethan has feelings for her too. At least he did. When they first met, he swore there was a connection, a bond of some sort. But neither of them could act on that feeling, as their lives swung off in opposite directions.
Matt leaves, and I lie in bed awake for the rest of the night. By sunlight I’m a wreck. I would take the day off school, except I’m supposed to be looking out for Neriah, and acting normally. But how can I act as if nothing’s wrong? There’s just too much going on in my head.
Ethan, knowing I would be distraught this morning, rides over, and along with Matt, we get the bus together. And even though we know Rochelle is going to be returning soon, we’re all thrown into shock when we see her at school already, sitting alone on one of the benches.
I grip Matt’s arm. ‘Do you want to get this over with?’
At first he doesn’t answer, just keeps looking at Rochelle. ‘I don’t think so,’ he finally says. ‘Maybe another day.’
He takes off and now I notice Ethan looking at Rochelle. Does he still have feelings for her too? Love is one of those things that can’t be turned on and off at will. I decide to bring the matter up to test his reaction. ‘Ah, I wonder what you’re thinking right now.’
‘About what?’
‘Well, since it’s over between Matt and Rochelle … I thought maybe …’
His head swivels sideways and he stares at me without blinking. ‘What are you on about? You know I can’t stand that girl.’
I whisper back, ‘She’s one of us now.’
‘Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I trust her.’
He’s lying, right to my face. Maybe even to his own heart. ‘You stood up for her once, before all the members of the Tribunal.’
He chooses to ignore me, which is probably a good thing, as Dillon, walking beside Neriah, makes an appearance. I recall I was supposed to meet Neriah in the car park. But I’m having trouble remembering everything I’m supposed to be doing these days. Somehow I have to get a grip.
Mr Carter comes out of the office and pulls Neriah to the side, pointing to some textbooks in his hand. Dillon spots me and comes over, and for the first time I notice just how vivid green his eyes are.
‘Hey,’ he says. ‘I went to the Falls Café yesterday but Neriah wasn’t there.’
‘Oh?’
‘Then I went to the art block, but the staff there told me that Neriah Gabriel isn’t doing any after-school art class.’
‘Well, she’s new. Her name probably isn’t registered yet.’
‘When I couldn’t find her, I went for a walk through the forest and stumbled across her house – or I should say fortress! Anyway, I got to talk to her after all and she’s not going to any art classes. She doesn’t know where you got that idea from.’ For a minute I think he’s mad at me. Most guys would be. But his scowl transforms into a teasing grin. ‘I think you were trying to get rid of me yesterday.’
I lift my shoulders and offer a lame smile back. ‘I’m sorry, Dillon. Yesterday was one hell of a day.’
‘Yeah, well, it was a weird day for me too. But look, I really like Neriah. I want a chance with her. I need you on my side, Isabel.’
r /> Maybe Ethan’s right when he says Dillon’s a nice guy. Maybe I don’t know him as well as Ethan does, or even Matt for that matter.
Neriah approaches, ending our conversation. And somehow, minute by minute, the day passes. But if anyone were to ask me what classes I had today, I wouldn’t be able to tell them. Except for history, when Mr Carter found a moment to tell me a mission is planned for this evening.
When I get home I learn there are guests coming for dinner. But I don’t mind really, ’cause it’s just Ethan with his parents and his Auntie Jenny, who’s going to be staying in Angel Falls for a while. This is a plan, apparently, to persuade Laura not to go to the sanatorium next week. But so far it’s not working. At least tonight I’ll have an opportunity to see how Laura’s doing for myself.
But when I do see her, I get such a shock, it takes an effort not to be rude. I can’t help staring. When did she get so thin? Her arms and legs are like billiard cues. And her eyes, normally so vivid and pretty, look oversized in a grey and drawn face. Even Shaun looks gaunt. He must be so worried about his wife.
Ethan sits beside his mum at the dinner table; occasionally his hand whips out and squeezes her arm. On one occasion when he does this, tears spring to my eyes. Sensing something, he glances up and catches my compassionate look. I try to impart a supportive smile. I want to let him know I’m here for him, and that somehow we’ll find a way to make his mother better.
Mum serves dinner – roast chicken with four different vegetables. The plate is bright and colourful. The look of it makes my stomach roll. I can’t remember when I last ate. I can’t seem to think of food any more. But I try to force some down so Mum doesn’t get worried. Beside me, Jimmy watches quietly. He knows how anxious I am, but we haven’t had a chance to talk yet about all that happened while he was away. Mum comes over and rubs my shoulders. She catches sight of my plate and can’t help staring at what is now a pile of unidentifiable mush. ‘Did I cook that?’ Her tone is light, but I know her well. It’s a disguise for her concern. ‘Not hungry, darling?’
I almost blurt out some lame excuse about having a tummy bug. Ethan makes a coughing sound, and I remember not to ever make a fuss before going to bed on the night of a mission. Mum would only come in and check on me. And while I’ll appear as if I’m only sleeping, my body won’t wake or even stir. And she’ll get such a fright if she tries to wake me.
I force a couple of huge spoonfuls down my throat and try not to gag. ‘It just tastes so much better this way.’
Jimmy and Ethan exchange amused glances. Under the table I swing a kick at Ethan’s knee. But his leg is closer than I think and I end up hitting it hard. He jerks, and his knee hits the underside of the table. The plates and cutlery rattle. Mum, Laura and Jenny stare at him. Quickly Jimmy makes a wisecrack, and thankfully, everyone starts to laugh.
By the time Ethan and his family go home, I’m exhausted, and quickly go to bed. Within seconds of my head hitting the pillow, I feel myself drifting into sleep.
I drop into a room in the Citadel, the one filled with a strange multi-coloured mist. Not long after, Ethan arrives. He looks around, but as yet no doors are open. He walks through the mist towards me and shrugs.
A soft whooshing sound has us both look to the centre of the room. Rochelle appears within a cloud of sooty fog. It makes her cough and she tries to wave some of it away. I flick a brief worried look at Ethan. It looks as if Rochelle’s first mission for the Guard (as opposed to the Order) is going to be with us. Well, that makes sense. I guess she can’t exactly be trusted to work on her own yet.
She looks at us both, and her eyebrows lift. ‘What do you think this means?’
‘Huh?’ I wonder what she’s talking about.
‘There’s always a reason a room chooses you.’
Ethan’s eyes lift to meet Rochelle’s, and for a second it’s as if a spark of recognition lights between them, a spark with the force of electricity. ‘Fog usually means impaired vision. Perhaps this mist is meant as a warning.’
Rochelle’s head flicks, her chin lifting. I get the feeling her nerves are kicking in, but really, I’m helpless to reassure her. It’s not that Rochelle is new at this sort of thing. This is far from her first mission, but it is Rochelle’s first for our side. And here she is working with the two of us – Ethan, the guy she dumped at Marduke’s command, and me, her ex-boyfriend’s sister. Then there’s the added worry that the Goddess will be on the lookout for Rochelle’s return.
‘Has anyone been briefed?’ I ask as an awkward silence develops.
Neither of them have, apparently, and Ethan is quick to add his opinion, ‘That’d be right. It looks like Carter’s stuffing up again.’
Just as Ethan makes his complaint, Mr Carter appears in the room. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He looks stressed, and I feel a moment of empathy for him. He’s filling in for Arkarian, as well as trying to continue in his own position, and teach at the school by day.
After giving Rochelle a long uneasy glance, he gets to the point, ‘You’re needed in Ancient Rome, during the late first century BC, when Octavius takes control of his empire.’
I’ve never been there, and the idea alone makes me gasp. ‘Oh wow.’ For a minute I experience that familiar buzz I get when about to embark on a journey into the past. But then thoughts of Arkarian, never more than fleeting seconds away, come thundering back, and I remember a time when Arkarian and I were about to head off to duel with Marduke and his soldiers. Arkarian handed me a specially made sword, given to him by King Arthur’s knight, Gawain. He knew how worried I was about the upcoming duel and the slim chance we seemed to have of saving Matt’s life, when suddenly he’d said to me, ‘I would die for you.’ At the time, I didn’t reply. His words had taken me by surprise. But now, as I hear them unfold in my head again, a reply springs to mind, and I whisper, ‘And I would die for you.’
I realise I’ve said these words out loud when everyone in the room stops still and looks at me. Rochelle rolls her eyes. Mr Carter looks at me sympathetically. Ethan comes up behind me and rubs my arm. ‘Are you OK?’
I look up at him and nod, my eyes blurred.
He checks again, ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine.’
Turning back to Mr Carter, Ethan asks him what our roles are. ‘And make sure you get it right this time, and not land us smack bang in the middle of a raging battle.’
Mr Carter’s eyes flare, but we’re not in the classroom now, so his power over Ethan is slightly diminished. Ethan’s mistrust of this man doesn’t have much of a foundation. All the same, I would never dismiss Ethan’s natural instinct.
Mr Carter takes a deep breath. ‘I’m doing my best, Ethan. I’m not the one in this room whose trust should be in doubt.’
As he says these words his eyes travel sideways to Rochelle. It’s no secret that Mr Carter has serious doubts about Rochelle’s allegiance, but apparently the Tribunal think she’s ready to join us, and Mr Carter’s obvious disapproval won’t make our mission any easier.
Rochelle groans, ‘Let’s just get on with it. I don’t know what you lot were taught, but I was told that time isn’t measured in this place.’
‘Really? What else were you told?’ Mr Carter asks. ‘That could make an interesting conversation.’
Her chin does that little flick and lift again. ‘I’ve briefed the Tribunal on everything I know, so I don’t have to tell you anything.’
The air grows thick, even the mist has increased. It’s as if the room itself can feel the tension. ‘Shouldn’t we get moving?’ I suggest. ‘Before we lose each other and all sense of what we’re supposed to be doing in this fog?’
Mr Carter finally gets his thoughts together. He becomes the teacher once more, his demeanour one of authority and knowledge. ‘The portal has opened during a time when Octavius, or I should say, Gaius Julius Caesar Octavius, is between battles with Mark Antony. He’s relaxing for a few days at home, enjoying the company of his wi
fe, Julia, and her two sons from an earlier marriage, Tiberius and Drusus. He is well into his campaign to attain the title of first Emperor of Rome, using his brilliant political cunning. But it appears that an attempt will be made on his life during these few days, by one or more of the Order. If they should succeed, you must all realise what effect this could have on life as we know it. Rome and Octavius, and all the events that followed, have enormous influences on the culture of the modern world. Do you understand what I’m saying?’
He doesn’t have to be so explicit. Every mission is important, but we get it – this one is vital, especially as the balance of power between the Guard and the Order is very precarious right now.
‘An opportunity has arisen to send you in under the guise of Roman doctors. Ethan will be in charge, with you two girls his assistants. In this way all of you will have access to the house without question to your citizenship, and, should you fail to stop Octavius from receiving a wound, you will be in the best position to heal him.’
Our instructions given, Mr Carter goes to leave, but stops as a doorway opens before him. ‘Whatever the Order plan, it’s going to be big. Remember that.’
His voice is so serious it unnerves me.
‘They’re out to make a lot of damage,’ he adds. ‘That’s why we’re sending all three of you. Please, be careful.’
He leaves, and with nothing but silence and our own troubled thoughts for company, we go to a wardrobe room. It’s here we’re appropriately outfitted with new identities. All three of us become unrecognisable.
We end up wearing long under tunics, mine made of white satin, and covered mostly by a blue wool wrap. My hair has been changed to yellow gold and pulled back in rope coils to form a tight bun at the back. Rochelle’s hair is a rich red-brown, also pulled tightly back, but the front third is now a mass of short and thick curls. She glances in the mirror, taking in her green tunic and salmon-coloured over dress.