The Dark

CHAPTER Twenty



Isabel


Mr Carter makes us promise not to incriminate him in any way, should Lord Penbarin, or any member of the Tribunal, ask who helped us get to the palace in Athens. Though it seems obvious to me; transportation through time is not something either Ethan or I can manage on our own. We’re not trained, and we don’t have that kind of authority. Not many do. The Tribunal members and Arkarian would. And of course Mr Carter. Ethan exchanges an amused look with me before making an easy promise. We also have to promise we’ll be back in the courtyard by midnight, so that Mr Carter can return us safely before going off and doing the many extra things he has to do these days.

Mr Carter delivers us into the palace’s golden courtyard, except it’s hardly golden right now. It’s obviously late, shrouded in darkness, except for lanterns strategically placed to enhance a garden bed or stone bench.

‘Do they live here?’ I suddenly wonder. ‘I mean, all nine members of the Tribunal? And Lorian too?’

‘Apparently. It’s a safe haven. Arkarian told me once this palace is kind of between places. It can’t be infiltrated or even detected.’

‘He thought the Citadel was safe too, but look what happened there. Maybe nowhere is safe.’

Ethan takes my hand and starts to pull me across the courtyard. ‘Come on. And walk lightly,’ he whispers. ‘We don’t want Lorian finding out we’re here.’

I think Ethan is being naive. Lorian is probably already aware of our presence. I don’t think much gets past that immortal. But my hunch is Lorian will watch first, then act. If Ethan and I are to be accused of treason, the Tribunal will gather its evidence against us first. And just being here, in this palace, doesn’t prove anything. Yet.

Ethan leads the way into a spacious foyer. ‘It’s down here,’ he says. ‘And remember, Mr Carter wants us back in the courtyard by midnight.’

I follow Ethan, and with every step marvel at the surrounding grandeur. There are white marble stairwells that lead to hallways lined with intricately designed carpets. Paintings, in gold frames, hang over the top of sculptures, thousands of years old.

Finally we stand before a set of carved double doors. I want to push the doors in, announce our reason for being here, and hurry up and get Lord Penbarin’s overwhelming support. But my stomach has decided it doesn’t want to reside under my rib cage any more. It starts jumping and twitching erratically. Any second it’s going to leap right out through my mouth.

‘Are you all right?’ Ethan asks from beside me.

‘Uh-huh. I mean, I think so. Why don’t you go ahead and knock?’

He gives me a funny look. ‘What happened to wanting to do this all by yourself?’

‘Well, you may as well make yourself useful.’

He sniggers, which helps ease the tension inside me. But before he even gets a chance to raise his hand to the doors, they swing soundlessly open, and a man in a white baggy suit stands before us. We tell him our names and that we wish to see Lord Penbarin. The man nods and motions us in.

On seeing us, Lord Penbarin groans – loudly. Several women – six after counting heads – surround him at a large dining table spread out with a feast of mouthwatering dishes. ‘I didn’t think it would take long before you sought me out,’ he mutters, wiping the corner of his mouth with a gold silk napkin. Putting the napkin down with a smirk, he sweeps his hand wide, dismissing the women. ‘Get rid of the food too,’ he says to the man who answered the door. ‘I was hungry, but the sight of these two has depleted my appetite.’

Both Ethan and I stand still and silent, unwilling to say anything in response to Lord Penbarin’s apparent unhappiness to see us. He ushers us over to a sofa that overlooks a series of differently shaped swimming pools, and invites us to sit. ‘I know what you want. You seek me out to open the rift that allows a union between the worlds. Well you’ve come for nothing, for I will not help you. In fact, I doubt I could anyway. It would take three times my power to even stand a chance.’

His words, his callous brush off, irritate me so quickly I forget my nervousness. Ethan hits me, picking up on my leaping mood, making sure his one quick slap to my arm gets his message across loud and clear. ‘Let me handle this,’ he whispers, to make sure I thoroughly understand. He turns to Lord Penbarin. ‘You’re Arkarian’s only chance of survival. How many times in your lifetime has he helped you?’

Lord Penbarin looks away to the swimming pools beyond. A young woman wearing a sheer blue gown enters the pool area, diving gracefully into the pool furthest from us. With her gown drifting around her, she floats languorously around the pool. Lord Penbarin drags his eyes from the woman reluctantly. Ethan has made a point, but will it be enough?

‘There’s no doubt as to Arkarian’s worth. It can’t be measured in mortal or immortal terms if you ask me. That is not the issue here. What you ask – even if I were able to twist the minds of two Tribunal members to help us – is treason.’

‘You’ve risked Lorian’s anger before to help me,’ Ethan reminds him.

‘Hmm, that was rather different. The risks now are far greater. Have you two any idea what could happen if the joining between the worlds is left open a few seconds too long?’ He doesn’t wait for us to answer. ‘Should even one of those underworld creatures find its way into our mortal world, everything we have, and everything we’ve worked so hard to maintain, could be destroyed. Do you want that responsibility hanging over your heads?’

‘But if we’re careful—’ I start to say.

He brushes my protest away with a wave of his hand. ‘How careful can one be when working with the unknown?’

‘If you pardon my asking, my lord, have you seen this world yourself? Has anyone? How do you know what creatures live there, and what risk they pose to our world? I guess I’m asking what proof do you have?’

His black eyes flare at me, then close to slits. ‘My dear, in some cases proof is not necessary. Have you learnt nothing in your time with the Guard?’

His put-down is to the point. I feel my face burn from the neck up, but I’m determined not to leave this palace without help from someone. ‘Are you saying you won’t help us?’

His head shakes a definite negative. ‘That’s right. I will not.’

I get up, disgusted in him. ‘And you’re a leader of a house? With soldiers that answer to your command and a whole sector of the earth to watch over? I think you earned your title by default.’

‘Isabel, what are you doing?’ Ethan tries tugging me down.

I ignore him. I’m just too riled up. ‘Well, my lord, I think you’re little more than a coward!’

‘Isabel!’ Ethan stands right in front of me, blocking me completely from Lord Penbarin’s view. He turns with his hands open wide, trying to ensure not one part of my body is showing. ‘We were just leaving.’

I decide he’s right, and that we may as well leave. Penbarin is useless anyway. I start making for the door, when he calls us back. We turn around and he says, ‘Find me two other Tribunal members who agree to help you with their powers, and,’ he adds smugly, ‘find the exact co-ordinates of this rift in our earthly sky. If you can do this, I will be there tomorrow morning at first light, your time.’

He thinks we can’t, and that’s why he’s smiling at us in his lordly superior way. He doesn’t know us very well. ‘Do we have your word on that, my lord?’

‘Do you doubt me?’

My mouth goes dry very quickly at his sudden look of outrage. ‘Of course not, it’s just—’

‘You have my word,’ he snaps, dismissing us.

Outside his rooms, Ethan and I turn to each other wondering who else might help us. We decide to go knocking door to door.

The first royal we approach is Lady Arabella. But it turns out she’s away overlooking her lands and her staff can’t say when she’s expected to return. We move on to Lord Alexandon, but his reply is an adamant no. We end up spending the next few hours walking corridors, approaching all the Lords, Kings and Queens we can find. But no one, it appears, no matter what arguments we come up with, is willing to go against Lorian and help us. Completely dejected and exhausted we go and sit in the courtyard to re-think our strategy.

Ethan’s shoulders sag as his elbows slide to his knees. ‘I’m starting to think it’s hopeless.’

I can’t believe he’s doing this. Giving in! I glare at him. ‘Don’t say that. We’ll find a way.’

He moans softly. ‘We have ten minutes before it’s midnight, and we’ve seen every Lord, Lady, King and Queen, that’s here right now. No one will help us. Lord Penbarin’s challenge is proving impossible. And you know what? He knew we would fail. No one is willing to go against Lorian. I’m starting to think neither should we.’

Without wanting to admit it, a part of my brain registers the thought that maybe Ethan’s right, maybe it is impossible to get anyone to agree to help us. But my mind refuses to believe we’re going to fail before we even get started. ‘There must be someone who will help us. Think, Ethan. Who haven’t we seen?’

‘I believe you’ve been looking for me?’

We both turn at the sound of Lady Arabella’s voice. She’s back! But is she willing to help?

As delicate and beautiful as I remember her, Lady Arabella comes over to stand right in front of us, her translucent skin revealing an intricate pattern of blue veins beneath.

She takes my hand and covers it with Ethan’s, then her own. I look up into her blue eyes, lashes encrusted with fine shards of ice, and words leave me. She lifts a finger to her lips. ‘You don’t have to say anything. I will help you with whatever you need.’

Ethan squeezes my hand. ‘We’re still one short, my lady. You see, Lord Penbarin said we need—’

Lady Arabella just smiles. ‘I will persuade another to help us. Don’t worry. Now come quickly. We have an appointment with my good Lord Penbarin.’

When we get to Lord Penbarin’s suite, he’s sleeping, but Lady Arabella walks straight past the man in the baggy suit. ‘Wake your master, Elsepth. I assure you he will be only too pleased to see us.’

Her over-confidence and the fact that we are here again, in Lord Penbarin’s rooms, one step closer to rescuing Arkarian, makes me giddy with relief. I have to physically stop myself from bursting out in hysterical little giggles.

Lord Penbarin comes out of his bedroom, grumbling as he slips his arms into a shimmering red dressing gown. ‘What have we here? Oh no, not you, my lady.’

‘It appears you have struck a deal with these two good people that you must now fulfil, my lord.’

‘But who is the third?’

‘Leave that to me. There will be a third by morning.’

Grudgingly he accepts her word that she’ll find someone else to help, then looks at me and Ethan, ‘As I recall, you two must tell me the exact location of the rift before my part in this fiasco is cemented. Hmm?’ He waits, his mouth forming into a smug line. He thinks he has us beat. How could we mere mortals possibly know where this rift is?

But Lord Penbarin wasn’t there on that open field on the mountain when the Goddess sent that storm – from the underworld. I take a deep breath and recite the co-ordinates that Ethan and I earlier worked out, hoping that, if they’re not exact, they will be near enough. ‘Thirty-six degrees south of the equator, one hundred and forty-eight degrees east of the prime meridian.’

Lord Penbarin’s mouth drops open. He’s impressed, yet unimpressed at the same time. But one thing is certain, he made a deal. And there’s no way, as Lord of Samartyne, he’s going to back down now.