Tide (The Sarah Midnight Trilogy) Page 29
For what? Killing my husband? Planning to destroy humanity? I have nothing to say to that. Nothing to say in the face of his apology.
Without saying a word, Elodie cleaned up his mess using some of the discarded bloodied sheets Sarah had removed. It was as if someone had been cut to pieces there.
“Come on. Let’s get you ready,” she said, bringing him to a sitting position. He couldn’t even sit upright. He whimpered as she lifted his T-shirt over his head, then fell back down as she removed his torn trousers.
So human, so vulnerable. Just a boy, really. The heir to the Underworld, half naked, wounded, helpless.
She led him to the bathroom, slowly, faltering step after faltering step – he wasn’t used to walking in darkness yet – and helped him sit in the bathtub. He closed his eyes as she ran the shower over him, washing the blood and pain away. An unwelcome voice was worming its way into her ear. A voice of compassion that she didn’t want to listen to.
You can’t hate someone as broken as this. You can’t hate someone while you run a wet cloth over their wounds, while you wash encrusted blood out of their hair, and they squeeze your hand when the pain is too much to bear.
Elodie hardened her face. She wouldn’t listen.
She helped him out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around him, drying him as gently as she could. They walked out of the bathroom, and Elodie caught her breath in fright, which transferred itself to Nicholas. She felt his hand squeezing hers, heard his soft gasp of fear.
“It’s OK,” she reassured him. “It’s Sean.”
Sean was standing in the room with a steaming mug and a dark look in his eyes.
“All well, Elodie?”
Elodie nodded, faltering under Nicholas’s weight. Sean took a step towards them, but she raised a hand to stop him.
“Make him drink this, I need him awake.”
“Yes,” she replied tersely.
Then Sean left, with one last hateful look towards Nicholas.
“Is he gone?” Nicholas asked.
“Yes. He’s gone. I’m going to find you some clothes,” she said.
“Don’t go away,” he replied, an edge of panic to his voice. “Everything is dark. I don’t know where I am.”
“I’m here,” she said, echoing the words he’d said to her a few days before. Was it only a few days? It felt like a lifetime. She rummaged in his rucksack, looking for clothes. Her fingers curled around something small and cold, a precious stone. She examined it in her open hand. It looked like an opal. She considered asking him about it, but decided against it. She slipped it into her pocket, resolving not to tell anyone until she found out what it was.
Slowly, gently, she helped him dress, wincing every time he yelped in pain. Then she held the cup of coffee to his mouth, one hand resting on the back of his head. “Drink up. We need you standing, Nicholas.”
He took a sip. “I didn’t want to do what he said anymore, Elodie.”
It took you a long time to realize that, she wanted to say, but there was no point. Nicholas needed all his energy to lead them to his father.
“Why did he not kill me?” he repeated. “I betrayed him. I saved you all. He punished me with the brain fury, that’s supposed to kill you. But I’m alive. I can’t feel him anymore. In my head. He’s not screaming, he’s not whispering. He’s left me alone.”
“You ready?” Elodie interrupted him. This wasn’t a conversation she was prepared to have. She held him by the waist, and they stood together. He was so tall, and muscly – he was heavy on her, and still she supported him.
They were on the doorstep, when she stopped. There was something she needed to know. “Nicholas. On the beach, with the ravens, you told them not to harm me, and you were harmed yourself instead. Why did you stop them? You didn’t need me. Not like you needed Sarah.”
“I couldn’t bear to see you killed.”
Elodie laughed bitterly. “More deceit, Nicholas? Casting a spell on me, like you did on Sarah?” She spat out the words. All her hatred, all her anger came flooding back. The enchantment of the wounded man was broken.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
She looked into his unseeing eyes. She wasn’t afraid of any power he might have, of any witchcraft or magic he might use on her. She was the Brun heir, and Harry’s widow, and she was angry. He couldn’t deceive her.
She looked into his eyes without fear, and she saw that he had just spoken the truth.
59
Prophecies
Hidden away
In the White Tower
But he will come flying
On the wings of the raven
“Can we trust him?” Sean ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “Or will he lead us to our death?”
Sean, Sarah, Winter, Niall and Elodie were standing in the smoke-ravaged entrance to Midnight Hall, rucksacks piled beside them. They had left Nicholas resting on a makeshift bed in the kitchen while they readied themselves to leave.
“Well, how else will we find this gate? Only Nicholas knows where it is. You’ve seen the state he’s in, it’s not like he can attack us,” said Elodie.
“Nicholas said somewhere east, and the signal we intercepted back in Louisiana, Mike and I,” Niall looked away, still unable to say his friend’s name without a pang of sorrow, “it came from eastern Europe, somewhere.”
“There’s something else,” said Sarah, “something I remembered during the battle.” Sarah beckoned them to follow her down the corridor and into her grandmother’s study.
There was no light coming through the windows, just the black, snowy sky. The light inside the room was strangely blue, and the embers in the fireplace still glowed. Their shadows moved along the walls as they entered.
They watched as Sarah walked towards the desk and stepped behind it. She took the painting of wild horses hanging on the wall above and rested it carefully against the wall.
“I knew it,” she whispered. She’d been right. The secret alcove her grandmother had shown her was there, stone shelves carved in the wall itself. And on the shelves, a thick, leather-bound volume.
“My grandmother gave me this the day before she died. She must have known what was going to happen. She forbade me from reading it until I was sure it was time. And I had forgotten all about it.” She decided against telling them what had reminded her.
Sarah held the book up for everyone to see. Engraved in gold letters on the dark brown leather cover were the words Carmina Prophetica. “It’s a book of prophecies,” she explained, and opened it to where the bookmark, a red velvet ribbon, had been placed many years before.
“A great evil will rise from the East,” Sarah read. “Secret people will follow the blind man.” There was a collective intake of breath as their thoughts went to Nicholas. “And they will lose much and suffer much, because theirs is the ruined blood of the Secret children. The soil will run red and the trees will dance as the earth opens and the shadows rise in the white tower.”
“The white tower?” asked Sean. “Any indication of where that is?”
“Not a clue.”
They stood in silence for a moment. Suddenly, after all the uncertainty and wondering and waiting, the next step in the battle was becoming clear.
“That’s funny,” murmured Elodie, breaking the silence.
“What?” asked Sean.
“One of the tales in the book Harry gave me. It talks about a princess in a white tower. Never mind.” She gave a small shrug.
“Right. We need to get ready,” said Sean authoritatively, striding out. Elodie followed him.
As she walked towards the kitchen to go check on Nicholas, the French girl silently finished her thought. A princess prisoner in a white tower. And in the story a prince flying on the wings of a raven is the one who saves her.
A long, cold shiver slithered down her spine.
60
One More Chance
I never thought I would
Hear your voice
again
When the others left the room Sarah lingered for a few moments. She was alone, she could see that, and yet she didn’t feel alone. She looked at the book in her hand, wondering if the presence she felt might be that of the person who had last held it. Morag Midnight. She shuddered at the thought. But as she walked from the room she felt a small hand entangled in her hair, and she sighed in relief. “Mairead,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
She ran downstairs. There was something else Sarah needed to do before they left. Alone. Just for a minute, she begged, and reluctantly Sean agreed, as long as she didn’t wander out of sight. He was now standing a hundred yards from her, watching her clutch her mobile with shaking hands, her hood shielding the snow from the back of her neck.
She had to speak to them. It might be the last time. She decided to start with the conversation that was likely to be less painful. Bryony.
Three bars in the corner of the screen showed that there was a signal. She prayed that it would be strong enough. She pressed the green button.
Sarah knew that Bryony lived with her phone in her hand, and it barely rang once before Sarah heard her friend’s familiar voice.
“Sarah?” Bryony sounded astounded.
“Bryony. It’s me. Merry Christmas, a bit late.”
“I’ve been trying to phone you for ages! Where are you? Still on Islay?”
“Yes.”
“With Harry, or Sean – whatever his name is?”
“Yes.”
“Are you OK?”
“For now, yes. Bryony, listen. Listen. I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but you were right. It wasn’t a burglar, that night in my house. I’m sorry I lied to you.”
Bryony let out a deep breath. “I was right.”
“Please let me finish. I’m going somewhere. I might not come back. I wanted to apologize, to tell you the truth, just in case.”
Bryony sounded strangled. “Sarah! Don’t do this.”
“It’s OK. Really, it’s OK. There was always so much going on in my life, Bryony.” She closed her eyes briefly. “I could never tell you. And I’m sorry about that. You need to keep safe, do you hear me? Don’t go out on your own. Try and always have someone with you. And if you see something strange, be on guard.”
“Sarah, you’re scaring me!”
“I’m so sorry. I just want you safe. Will you do as I say?”
Bryony’s voice sounded fearful. “What’s going on? Are you in trouble? What is it? Have you done something wrong?”
“No, nothing like that. Bryony, you know you were my best friend.”
“That I was your best friend?” Bryony was crying now. Sarah could hear it in her voice. She imagined her friend’s face, that face she knew so well.
“I might come back.” She tried to sound brighter.
But Bryony wasn’t reassured. “You might. You might come back!”
There was no point in continuing the conversation. “Be safe. And please don’t tell anyone about this. Promise.”
“I promise, Sarah.”
“Bye, Bryony. ”
Sarah pressed the red button as quickly as she could, cutting Bryony off before she could respond. That was hard enough. She took another deep breath, then, giving Sean a quick wave over her shoulder to reassure him that she was nearly ready, she dialled the next number. There wasn’t much time.
It rang for what seemed like an eternity. Finally Sarah’s heart plummeted as the answering machine kicked in. She couldn’t leave a message. She tried again. It rang a few more times, and Sarah was almost ready to give up and walk back to Sean, when she heard a crackle on the line, and then a feeble, barely audible voice.
“Hello, Siobhan’s phone. Juliet speaking.”
Sarah felt her legs buckle from under her, and she fell to her knees on the wet sand.
“Hello? Hello?”
A sob came from Sarah’s throat, and exploded in a flood of joyful tears. “Aunt Juliet! It’s me! It’s Sarah!”
“Sarah! Darling! I’m so glad to hear your voice. Your uncle told me you never wanted to speak to me again!”
“What? No, no! I thought you were dead.”
“I nearly died, Sarah. It was a terrible attack. And I think they were looking for you. They mentioned your name. I had to know how you were, but Trevor wouldn’t let me.”
“I’m so sorry, Aunt Juliet. There’s so much I’d like to tell you.”
“Sarah, darling, don’t. I know. I’ve always known that there was something strange going on in your lives. I just never wanted to believe it was as dangerous as this. Come home, my love. We’ll help you, we’ll keep you safe.”
The offer of a home, love, security was so tempting. Sarah turned and looked towards Sean, standing waiting for her. “I can’t. I need to go. I need to sort it all out, for us, and … for everyone. I know it’s hard to believe.”
A moment of silence.
“I understand,” said Juliet.
“You do?”
Sarah could hear a voice in the background. Uncle Trevor.
“Bless you, my Sarah,” whispered Juliet. “I need to go. I love you like a daughter, you know that, don’t you?”
“I love you too, Aunt Juliet!” said Sarah, closing her eyes to a sudden gust of salty wind.
The line went dead. Aunt Juliet was gone.
Aunt Juliet was alive.
61
Love Must Be Spoken
My love for you
Is what keeps me breathing
I knew you
Before I knew you
Sean
Everybody is packing, sorting, loading the cars to head for the boats, stepping over ashes and debris. All of us are pale, frightened, determined. I watch Sarah make her calls, and then get back on her feet and slip her mobile back into her pocket. She’s walking towards me, her eyes wide. Something has happened.
“Aunt Juliet survived,” she whispers, smiling.
I take her hand and lead her away from the house. She looks at me for a second, in a silent question, but she follows me down the snowy slope and onto the beach, and beyond the rocks where we met Winter for the first time.
The wind cuts our faces with sheets of snow. It’s so strong it hurts, and so cold that my breath is taken away. The sea and the sky are angry, and I know it’s going to get much worse. But we’re about to steal a moment from the world, a moment just for us.
I have to shout over the roar of the sea as I lean towards Sarah, her hair blown by the wind, enveloping me. I know we can never be together, I know that our union would betray all I believe in, all I stand for – Harry’s legacy, and my duty as a Gamekeeper – but I still have to tell her. I still have to speak the only words that matter right now.
“Sarah. I love you.”
The wind and the sea are so loud that they carry my words away. She has to stand on her toes and whisper her answer straight into my ear. Her breath is warm against my face, her hair caresses my cheek as she replies.
“I love you, too.”
Also by Daniela Sacerdoti
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REALLY WEIRD REMOVALS.COM
Copyright
First published 2013
by Black & White Publishing Ltd
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This electronic edition published in 2013
ISBN: 978 1 84502 544 1 in EPub format
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Copyright © Daniela Sacerdoti 2013
The right of Daniela Sacerdoti to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This novel is a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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