The Dark

CHAPTER Twenty-nine



Isabel


On the beach my sixth sense goes crazy with fear. There’s the temple up ahead, but it’s quiet. Too quiet. We start making our way towards it. As we near the front I see that the temple is indeed enormous, reaching hundreds of metres up towards a single point. It must have been used for worship once, and probably protection too. In its day it could easily have contained a thousand people.

My legs feel drained of energy. I push them to keep moving. My stomach feels as if someone stretched out my intestine and tied it in a thousand little knots before shoving it back in.

Ethan runs up beside me. ‘Are you OK?’

I nod, finding myself overwhelmed suddenly with a strange feeling that after everything, I’m going to be too late.

‘Slow down, Isabel. We’re nearly there.’

‘I can’t, Ethan. I’m scared.’

‘I know. I am too. But wrecking yourself now is not going to help Arkarian. He’s going to need you … your skills, you know?’

I glare at him. He doesn’t get it. I’m nervous enough already. ‘What if my skills aren’t good enough? What if it’s too late and he’s already—’ I have to stop suddenly to get my breath and regain some composure.

Ethan grips my shoulders. ‘It’s going to be all right.’

Matt catches up to us. ‘What’s wrong?’

Brotherly concern is the last thing I need. It snaps me out of my anxious state. ‘Nothing, come on.’ Urging everyone to hurry, I break into a run.

There are a series of stairs made of smoothly polished stonework that lead up to the front doors of the temple. I jump them three at a time, and before I know it I’m standing on a platform staring into a vast hollow interior that, at first glance, appears completely deserted.

Looking up, a soft breath escapes at the sight of the ceiling, where panels of etched glass in vivid colours extend to a high single point. A moment of déjà vu passes through me, disorienting me for a second. I’ve seen this ceiling before, in the Citadel, the day Arkarian was kidnapped.

Matt comes up beside me, wearing the strangest look on his face. ‘Déjà vu,’ he whispers.

I don’t know why he’s getting the same feeling. As far as I know he’s never been to the Citadel, at least not that part. He walks past me in a daze, right to the centre of the room, and starts looking up, down, everywhere. His hands reach out as if to touch an invisible structure before him. His strange actions give me the creeps.

Looking away, I angle the torch around the outer walls searching for signs of Arkarian, but I see nothing except columns and vast emptiness.

Where is he?

A draught of icy wind pushes aside my cloak and a chill rips through me. Then I spot him. ‘Oh no!’

He’s lying in front of a dying fire across the room, completely still. Shock paralyses me.

Ethan catches up. ‘Where is he? And where is …?’ He catches sight of Matt. ‘What’s he doing?’

‘Over there. I don’t know. And your guess is as good as mine.’ I hand him the torch, assuming his second question refers to the whereabouts of his sister. ‘Will you hold this?’

The strangest feeling hits me as I cross the shiny marble flooring and approach Arkarian, the sound of every footstep echoing loudly in my ear. It’s as if I’m walking on a platform of air, a platform that leads to my own death. Forcing this scary sensation aside, I search for signs of movement. Anything to let me know Arkarian still lives. And while his back is to me, shouldn’t I still be able to see his chest rise and fall with each breath? But I can’t. He’s completely still. Emotion swells within me, choking me, blurring my vision. ‘Don’t let me be too late.’

Up close it becomes obvious Arkarian has been severely beaten. There is a lot of blood, bruising, an open wound across his chest, weeping scratch marks down one side of his face, and if I’m not mistaken, bite marks too, covering almost every exposed part of his body. Even his clothes are shredded in places. I drop down to my knees, swipe moisture from my face, blinking hard to clear my vision. I lay my hands on his arm, and with gentle pressure, roll him on to his back. His eyes flick open in an unblinking stare, and for a second I think he is dead. But then he inhales a short gasp, and his eyes – glazed and bloodshot – move to find mine. ‘Isabel.’ It’s just a whisper from cracked and dried lips, but it’s enough to bring a flood of tears to my eyes. I fight to keep them away. ‘Save yourselves. It’s too late for me. Lathenia is after you. And there’s something you must know. Mar—’

I put my finger to his lips. ‘No, don’t speak. You have to conserve your energy. I’m not leaving without you, Arkarian.’

‘You must be careful …’

I realise what he’s trying so hard to say. It floors me that he’s using his remaining meagre strength to make sure we’re aware of this danger. ‘We know, Arkarian. We know that Marduke has somehow returned from the dead.’

He sucks in a painful short breath and allows himself to pass out. How long has he been in this state? Hardly able to breathe? How long has his body been struggling to get oxygen to damaged organs and cells?

Ethan drops down on Arkarian’s other side and gently strokes his blue hair. Without saying anything Ethan gulps deeply, and catches my eye. I don’t need to be a Truthseer to read his mind or scan his thoughts, or whatever it is Truthseers do. Ethan’s concern is there on his face, etched as if in stone. ‘Can you help him, Isabel?’

With trembling hands, I lay them on Arkarian’s chest. His lungs will have to come first. With my vision blurring again, adrenaline thumping through me, I find myself unable to hold thoughts still long enough to find a stable meditative thought.

Ethan picks up that something’s wrong. ‘Are you OK?’

With Arkarian’s eyes closed it’s easy to think I’ve lost him. I feel his heart beating slowly beneath my hands, but how much longer does he have? His severest injuries are the ones I can’t see on the surface. I need my healing skills – but something’s wrong! They don’t seem to be working. I try again to visualise Arkarian’s internal injuries, but nothing happens. How can this be? Healing is second nature to me now.

I experience a moment of sheer panic. The room spins away from me and everything takes on a strange sense of unreality. My hands fly up to either side of my face. ‘What’s wrong with me?’

Ethan takes my trembling hands in both of his. ‘You need to get a grip. You’re losing control.’

‘I can’t seem to focus.’

‘Yes you can.’

A single tear runs down my face. ‘I’m so scared, Ethan.’

John comes over, with Matt trailing behind him. His boots make loud noises on the shiny floor. The sound is almost too much for my strained nerves; while their presence just increases the pressure. I spin half my body around and scream at them with words that echo with an hysterical note around the hollow room. ‘Go away! Get out of here! Can everybody leave me alone!’

They stop still at my screams, probably thinking I’ve gone and lost it completely now when I’m needed most.

Matt assumes the worst. ‘Is he gone?’ he whispers to Ethan.

Ethan shakes his head. ‘She needs to compose herself before her healing skills will work.’

Matt lays his hand gently on my shoulder. ‘You can do it, Isabel. You healed Ethan’s leg from that bite wound. Look at it, there’s not even a mark now.’

Ethan reminds me of another time. ‘You healed my father after Marduke stabbed him through his heart. And you did this under the threat of your brother’s imminent death.’

But their words fall flat because here, right now, while precious seconds pass that could mean the difference between Arkarian living or dying, my healing power has disappeared. ‘Why can’t I heal him, Ethan?’

‘You have to step back. Gain perspective. Take control of your emotions. Isabel, you love him.’

Matt jerks his hand away as if stung by a poisonous insect. ‘You love Arkarian? But he’s … he’s not like us.’

Ethan scowls at Matt before purposefully drawing my attention back to him. ‘Isabel, you’ve been trained for this very thing. Shut everything out. Don’t let your emotions cause a block.’

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly, and, closing my eyes, lay my hands back on Arkarian’s chest. This time an image of torn ligaments, dislocated joints and broken ribs appears before me. One rib pierces through a lung.

Somehow I manage to keep control and visualise the healing that must take place. First I disengage the broken rib, join it with its other half, seal the lung, then inflate it once again.

My reward comes in the form of Arkarian taking a strong deep breath. But I have a long way to go before he’s completely healed. At least now that I’ve started, surely it’s only a matter of time.

Returning my hands to his chest, I repair his flesh wounds, then his damaged joints and ligaments. Yet there is still much more to be done. He has a lot of blood and fluid pooled in dangerous places, drowning cells and vital organs. I start working at re-directing the blood back to appropriate tissue, while channelling the excess fluid through Arkarian’s kidneys. But it’s here I find a serious problem, as these vital organs have ceased working altogether, probably caused by their severe bruising and swelling. Their repair could take precious time.

I am vaguely aware of noises around me, but my concentration is deep now, and they remain distant enough not to disturb me.

‘You have to hurry, Isabel,’ Ethan says, returning from wherever he disappeared to. ‘The temple is surrounded by dogs. Huge ones. And they sound hungry.’

Still it takes me a long time to reduce the bruising and swelling of Arkarian’s kidneys. So long, that at times I think it’s hopeless, that these badly beaten cells will not – cannot – repair.

Ethan comes back a second time. ‘Isabel, seven hounds are circling the temple.’

My concentration is so deep, for a second his words don’t penetrate at all. I finally have a hold on Arkarian’s kidneys, somehow healing them enough to get them working again. With the worst of Arkarian’s internal injuries restored to health, his recovery should only be moments away. I sense this with every fibre of my being, though as yet Arkarian hasn’t regained consciousness. I stare across at Ethan as I realise he’s still here, waiting for my response to something. ‘What did you say?’

‘The hounds, Isabel. Lathenia won’t be far behind them. Either that, or she’s playing with us.’

For a second I wonder what he expects from me. I’m exhausted, and have more healing yet before Arkarian is well enough to come back with us. ‘You deal with it,’ I snap at him. ‘I’m fine with whatever you choose to do. OK? We’re a team, aren’t we?’

He looks surprised for a second as if in shock, but walks away looking pleased with himself. I hardly give his strange reaction a second thought and get back to healing Arkarian.

Only a few moments later an angry lion’s roar penetrates my senses. I jump at the sound and look up. The room is filled with hungry-looking lions! At least a dozen of them. One spots me looking at it and roars in my direction. Goose bumps erupt, making every soft hair on my body stand on end. What on earth is going on?

My glance finds Ethan’s and I realise the lions are his creation. Outside Lathenia’s hounds snarl. They’re very close now and that’s why Ethan has created the illusion of lions.

Ethan cracks a whip sharply and the lions give a wild roar. Another crack and the lions leap, charging out the door, chasing the hounds away from the temple.

I can’t help but give a soft gasp of admiration. Ethan hears and gives me a nod.

Matt and John come over and get down on their knees. ‘How’s the healing going?’ Matt asks.

‘I’m nearly—’

But I don’t finish this thought as a pair of warm hands cover mine. I look down to see Arkarian moving into a sitting position, my hands now firmly gripped in his. With violet eyes beginning to re-focus, he smiles at me. ‘You are amazing.’

Seeing him like this, not only recovered, but just … seeing him alive and knowing he’s going to be all right, overwhelms me for an instant. Tears hit the back of my eyes that I struggle to contain. I’m not going to fall apart now!

Sitting up, he pulls me to him fiercely. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’

Out of the corner of my eye I see Matt frown. I try not to analyse my brother’s look; it’s not unusual for him to over-react where I’m concerned. At least Arkarian is well again. He’s not going to die! And as long as we get out of this place in one piece – there is a chance for us.

After holding me tightly he looks into my face. With the tips of his fingers he wipes away my tears. Then he leans his forehead against mine and slowly kisses me. At first it is a gentle meeting of our lips. Then the pressure increases, and the kiss becomes a mixture of sweetness and passion.

I don’t ever want it to stop.