The Dark

CHAPTER Six



Arkarian


By the end of the ride Isabel has formed a strong bond with the child. It’s an easy thing to do. I feel myself doing the same. And that’s something I’ve managed to avoid for almost six hundred years. It’s just that Charlotte is well mannered and kind and so trusting. Many times she is close to tears.

After dinner with the Duke and Lady Eleanor, Charlotte insists that I must tell her another story. It’s unheard of for a mere stable-hand to be invited inside, but the Duke finally agrees. I think he is relieved to see his daughter smiling again.

With King Charles beside them, Isabel and Charlotte curl up by the hearth. As Charlotte cuddles the dog, Isabel whispers, ‘You know, it wouldn’t hurt for her aunt to be a bit kinder. That woman doesn’t come across as the loving mother type.’

I have to agree, and while I can’t find much in history on Charlotte, I did discover that Lady Eleanor will one day become the mistress of this very castle, marrying the Duke and taking the title of Duchess. But I’m reluctant to let Isabel know. She would hate the thought of Lady Eleanor becoming Charlotte’s stepmother. Forming attachments to those we help is strictly forbidden. This is an essential rule. It’s quite easy to develop friendships, and difficulties in letting go have caused serious situations for members of the Guard before. That was the catalyst for all our problems with Marduke. Thirteen years ago he changed the past by trying to stop the woman he fell in love with from catching the plague. His partner was Ethan’s father Shaun. Shaun tried to stop him. They fought and Marduke suffered severe facial injuries.

‘The only reason that woman would want a child for herself would be to secure an inheritance,’ Isabel concludes.

Charlotte stirs, murmuring for another story, and Isabel lets the matter drop. She strokes the girl’s forehead. ‘Patience, Charlotte. Here, wait.’ Isabel moves around on the rug, positioning Charlotte’s head in her lap. ‘Is that comfortable?’

Charlotte nods, then looks up at me. ‘Hurry, Gascon. You must tell me a story before I fall asleep. You have so many! And my eyes are getting heavy.’

Even with heavy eyes, it takes the telling of three long stories – myths from ancient Greece and Macedonia – before Charlotte’s soulful blue eyes finally close in sleep.

Isabel continues stroking the girl’s forehead. ‘Should we carry her to bed?’

Through the connecting doorway, I glance into her room, and wonder what the Order have in mind regarding this child. Has the portal to this time period been opened solely to draw Ethan out? It can only open for a short period, and only ever once. No one can return to the exact time twice. Or is there a genuine threat to Charlotte’s well-being? It would be a mistake to underestimate the enemy. And from what I saw earlier of the child’s own bedroom – narrow windows with heavy drapes, closet doors, wardrobes and wooden chests – there are plenty of hiding places should someone suddenly appear. ‘Why don’t we leave Charlotte here where we can keep a close eye on her? It’s warm by the fire.’

Agreeing, Isabel makes Charlotte comfortable with some pillows. King Charles nestles in beside her, his head on his paws, his eyes slowly closing.

The two of us go and sit against the foot of the four-poster bed, and after a while Isabel sighs and yawns. Without realising it, she sags against my shoulder. After this long day, she’s completely exhausted. Looking across at Charlotte, she comments softly, ‘She looks so innocent.’

‘As only a child can.’

‘Why would anyone want to harm her?’ She shivers suddenly.

Instinctively, and against my better judgement, I pull her closer to me. She rests her head on my shoulder as if it is the most natural thing in all the worlds to do.

But it’s a mistake. I become aware of her heart beating, her lungs expanding with every breath, her skin beneath my touch.

She moves, and her head slides to my chest. Shifting into sleep, she wraps her arm around my waist. Now I’m aware of my heart beating too, slowly, in sync with hers. I know I should push her away. But if my life depended on it, right now, that would be impossible.

She mumbles something; her breathing slow and rhythmic. Unable to stop myself, I kiss the top of her head.

She shifts and wakes, quietly becoming aware of how her arm lies around my chest. Withdrawing it in jerking movements, she sucks in a deep breath, sitting up straighter. ‘I must have fallen asleep.’

‘Only for a minute or two.’

Her head turns to me. ‘Did I miss anything?’

I recall my kiss to the top of her head, and can’t help a secret smile. ‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’

‘Oh good. I wouldn’t want to miss anything important, like maybe the Goddess herself dropping in to say hello.’

Her comment has me scoffing. ‘I’ve lived six hundred years, and I haven’t met the woman yet.’

She seems surprised.

‘Lathenia only shows herself on exceptional occasions.’

A sudden sound from the hearth, a moan from King Charles, seizes our attention. The dog is waking, slowly stretching out his limbs and arching his back.

Charlotte starts to stir and reaches for her pet. But something about the dog seems strange, abnormal. Its eyes are changing, losing their animal shape. It’s as if they are no longer the eyes of a dog but that of … ‘Grab the girl!’ I yell.

‘What’s wrong?’ Isabel asks, sounding confused.

‘I think your desire to meet the Goddess is about to come true.’

She runs to Charlotte. ‘What! No way! But how?’

‘I think Lathenia has been using one of her hounds to get close to Charlotte and trick us into thinking the Order had not arrived yet. It gave her time to study us.’

‘Do you think she’s worked out—’

An ear-piercing squeal cuts off anything else she has to say. Grabbing Charlotte with a gentle but firm hold, Isabel pulls her to the side, turning the child’s face into her skirts.

‘Don’t turn around, whatever you hear,’ I tell her.

The sight of Charlotte’s ‘pet’ standing on its hind paws and stretching into the air while howling as if in agonising pain, would terrify little Charlotte. Especially as the dog has started changing shape as well, right before our eyes! Its long limbs stretch out and grow longer, losing their dog form, and transforming into slender arms and legs – human ones.

Only seconds later a fully-formed woman stands before us. A woman who would stand taller than most men, with ankle-length, bright red hair and eerie silver eyes.

The Goddess of Chaos straightens her shoulders and points in my direction with one of her incredibly long fingers. ‘You’re not the one.’

Isabel glances at me, while still hanging on to Charlotte, who keeps trying to peep out of Isabel’s skirts.

Lathenia’s eyes narrow in concentration. Soon she’ll figure out exactly who I am. And while it’s Ethan she planned to eliminate today, she won’t be too disappointed to find me here instead.

And yet how surprising to find Lathenia on this mission. Lorian must have suspected. So now I understand the reason for the late switch. In the years since my Initiation into the Guard, I’ve been taught the skills necessary to deal with an immortal. They can’t be killed – except by another immortal – but they can be temporarily harmed, and tricked, and ultimately they could be trapped and locked away somewhere secure. Fire is Lathenia’s main enemy; it’s why she lives in a world of crystal, marble and ice.

So fire is what I have to focus on. I’ll have to do it by using one of my skills. But Isabel and Charlotte have to be safe first. ‘Get the girl downstairs.’

Isabel’s eyes shift to the doorway, but this is not going to be easy. Lathenia is in the way, and Isabel doesn’t know I have the skills – although untried – to deal with this immortal. She will want to stay and help. ‘Phillipa, you have to get Charlotte to safety.’ I try to enforce this message with my eyes.

She makes for the doorway, but Lathenia shuts it in their faces. Isabel yanks on it, but now it’s stuck fast. And Charlotte is starting to whimper. ‘Where’s Charlie? Who is that awful woman? She’s scaring me. Make her go away, Gascon.’

Isabel tells her to be calm, and all will be well. ‘Trust in Gascon, my pet.’

She nods, but tears are starting, and her whimpers grow louder.

Lathenia raises her hands and I know the power these hands hold – a power so strong it can’t be matched by any mortal. Her fingertips begin turning blue, and streaks of vivid light start sizzling within them, ready to dart towards me. Quickly I hold out my own hands and concentrate. Streaks of powerful current flash across the room into my open palms.

Lathenia’s energy hits me and I feel my hands burn, but somehow I’m able to tolerate it. Soon my hands start glowing as her energy starts to gather in them. Concentrating hard, I split this power, thrusting half of it back at the Goddess, and half into the fireplace. Two things happen: the fire erupts with so much force the whole room glows orange and fills with intense heat; and Lathenia shrieks, a hideous, ear-piercing sound, probably from surprise rather than pain, when her own energy blasts back through her.

Collecting herself, Lathenia straightens, but her skin is charred red. I’ve burnt her with her own power. And now she’s furious. Staring at me, she spreads one arm in a wide arc. Creaking sounds are the first indication of what she plans. My eyes shift to the furniture that’s already starting to move. ‘Try the door again!’ I call out to Isabel.

But it doesn’t budge.

The furniture starts shifting in a circular motion, picking up speed quickly.

‘Hang on to anything secured to the floor or the ceiling!’ I warn Isabel. ‘Try the window ledge. But don’t lean out too far. It’s a long drop.’

Locking Charlotte between her own body and the wall, Isabel latches on to the ledge.

‘Protect the child with everything you’ve got!’

As I say these words, Lathenia spins around on the spot, her hand raised high in the air. It becomes impossible to make out any part of her body, as she spins faster and faster. And with her spinning, the furniture takes flight. There’s a bed post beside me. I give it a quick yank to see if it will hold. It seems solid enough, and I grip it with the inside corner of my elbow. I would use my hands, but they’re still hot and glowing with Lathenia’s energy.

Soon the furniture is moving so fast the room is a chaotic blur.

I glance at Isabel. The whirlwind has caught her clothing. She’s hanging on with only her fingers, as the forces in the room threaten to take her and the girl with them. I don’t know how long she can hold on. I have to act, and do it quickly. But I’m having a hard enough time hanging on myself. And I can’t see the fire through the blur of swirling furniture, which only narrowly misses us.

The whirlwind increases and Isabel screams, her body almost horizontal, with Charlotte hanging on around her waist. I have to get my bearings so that I can locate that fireplace. Then I see Lathenia slow down and stop spinning. Her face has returned to its normal, luminescent hue. She catches my eye and stares at me with a smug smile on her face. Without words I understand: she has figured out my identity.

As she stops I notice the orange glow of the fire to her right. I focus on it with everything I’ve been taught, drawing on the remains of her energy still pulsing in my hands. The fire erupts again, and a wave of flames sweep into the room, slowing the whirlwind. Furniture begins to drop as the winds recede, crashing to the ground and splintering into dangerous pieces. Isabel crouches with the girl buried within her skirts.

A pounding on the door can now be heard. The Duke and other voices demand to know what’s going on. They want the door opened. Isabel casts me a concerned look. But a deeper concern is Lathenia, and what she might do next. I jump down and focus all my power on the fire. If I have to burn the room down to get the Goddess out of this time period, then I will take that risk.

Lathenia sees what I have in mind. One of her long fingers points into the fireplace and instantly the fire extinguishes. Then, looking satisfied, she raises her hand to me. I ignore her as best I can, and focus on the fireplace, believing that somewhere in those remains, a single spark still burns.

‘You are not that good … Arkarian!’

Trying hard not to be distracted, I concentrate on finding that spark. I hear her laugh, a mocking sound, a gleeful sound. But it is soon cut off, as the spark I have finally found, turns into a raging fire. A fire that cannot be contained in the small fireplace. It explodes, and waves of dancing orange flames leap into the room.

She screams this time from frustration. And as the flames unfold to fill almost the entire room, she lifts above it and stares at me with flashing silver eyes. ‘Don’t think you’ve won, Arkarian. We will meet again. We will meet very soon. And the place will be of my choosing.’ With these words she disappears.

I release the flames and they withdraw into the fireplace. The door bursts open and the Duke, Lady Eleanor and many servants pile into the room. At first they’re beaten back by the heat and the smell of scorched furniture. But then they see the destruction in the room and can only stare.

The sound of Charlotte whimpering breaks the spell.

‘What on earth is going on here?’ the Duke demands.

‘The lady took my dog,’ Charlotte cries, and breaks into sobs.

‘Um,’ Isabel tries to come up with a plausible explanation. ‘The dog. Well, he … he …’

‘Yes? Get on with it!’ the Duke commands.

‘He slept too close to the fire,’ I add, helping Isabel out.

She takes up the story. ‘Yes. He was so close a spark scorched him. He went crazy, my lord. And as he ran, the flames grew larger. He tore around the room with his coat burning, spreading the flames everywhere he touched, and knocking furniture down. We tried to catch him, but it only made things worse.’

Lady Eleanor looks horrified. ‘Why didn’t you open the door?’

Isabel glances at the door. Beside it, scorched and turned on its side, lies a solid piece of furniture. ‘The desk,’ she says. ‘It ended up against the back of the door. And we were so concerned with trying to contain the fire and stop the dog, that we had no time to move it out of the way.’

The Duke’s eyes fall on his daughter, still crying, but unharmed. ‘Well, it appears you have protected my daughter, and for that I am grateful. But what was Charlotte saying about a lady?’

‘When the fire broke out, she was asleep, my lord. The “lady” she speaks of must have been in her dreams.’

‘Where is the dog now?’

I glance at the open window and Isabel says, ‘It leaped, my lord. Out through that window. Gascon saw it disappear into the woods.’

The Duke, appearing satisfied with our story, orders his servants to clean up the room and to take out any furniture that has been burned beyond repair. Lady Eleanor orders another room be prepared for Charlotte. ‘And hurry, so that the child can quickly be put to sleep.’

Isabel finds it hard to ignore Lady Eleanor’s poor choice of words. I give her a warning look and she squats down to comfort Charlotte, who is still upset over losing her beloved pet.

‘I told you, Adrian, that dog was no good,’ Lady Eleanor snaps at the Duke. ‘You should have destroyed it the minute it turned up on our estate. I warned you it was going to be trouble.’

Charlotte’s cries grow louder, and Isabel groans at Lady Eleanor’s callous, unthinking words. And while I feel for Charlotte too, there is nothing Isabel or I can do about the dog. It obviously doesn’t belong in this time period. Lathenia sent it for her own purposes, and now, of course, it can’t return. This time portal will close as soon as Isabel and I can find a quiet space to call Marcus. We only have to call his name – loudly and with passion – and he will hear and return us to the Citadel instantly.

I tug on her arm and whisper, ‘Our work is done here.’

She gives an almost imperceptible nod, then says to Lady Eleanor, ‘If Charlotte’s chamber is ready, I’ll settle her into her bed.’

The Duke comes over and lifts Charlotte into his arms, holding her tightly. ‘Thank you for your kindness towards my daughter, but I’ll put Charlotte to bed myself tonight.’

Lady Eleanor comes rushing over and tugs on the Duke’s elbow. ‘I’ll come with you. And when the child sleeps, I’ll organise some mead to soothe our nerves.’

With the Duke and Lady Eleanor gone, it’s not long before the servants finish removing the worst of the damaged furniture, and Isabel and I finally find ourselves alone.

‘How did you do that?’ she asks.

I close the door behind the last departing servant and turn around. ‘Hmm?’

She makes a movement with her hands, similar to what I did when reflecting Lathenia’s energy earlier. ‘The hand thing.’ She comes over, takes my hands in hers, then gives a little shriek. ‘They’re so hot! Do they hurt?’

I tug my hands out from hers. They’re still a little uncomfortable, but I’m sure the feeling will soon pass. ‘They’re fine. Don’t concern yourself.’

‘I thought they were going to burst into flames, like that small fire did when you made it explode.’

She wants me to explain. ‘It was just a skill I was taught to use when confronting an immortal. That’s all.’

She peers at me with narrowed eyes, her curiosity thoroughly aroused. ‘Really?’ Her mouth twitches at one end, then the other. And while she’s keeping her thoughts well screened, it’s clear she’s come to some fascinating conclusion about me. ‘All those years ago you must have been an Apprentice. Who was your Trainer?’

For some reason Isabel makes it sound as if the answer to this question will solve the mystery about my unusual display of powers tonight. I don’t want to give her information that might make her leap to any wrong conclusions. I don’t know who my parents were. I was raised in many houses, by both peasants and soldiers. In some of those houses I was a slave. It wasn’t until I turned eighteen, and became indentured into the Guard, that I found a form of peace. I have no last name. The only real family I have ever known is that provided by the Guard. ‘Look, Charlotte is safe. We’ve done our job. We really have to leave now.’

She tries to grab one of my slightly glowing hands, but I turn away.

‘Not until you tell me who your Trainer was.’

‘What difference does it make?’

She lifts one shoulder. ‘Then why not tell me?’

‘Because you’ll only jump to conclusions. Crazy ones.’

‘Yeah, well, why don’t you let me be the judge of that?’

‘We have to go, Isabel. There’s so much to do when we get back.’

‘I understand, but I’m not leaving until you tell me who your Trainer was.’

I groan and shake my head at her persistence. Standing with her hands on her hips, staring at me, she’s not going to change her mind. That is apparent. ‘All right. I was Lorian’s Apprentice. Does that satisfy your curiosity?’

‘Aha! I thought so.’ Anyone would think this news is the most momentous she’s heard in all her life. And then another thought hits her. She gets excited, like a child with a brightly coloured parcel in front of her. ‘Tell me one more thing and I’ll never bother you again.’

Now this I doubt, but I relent all the same. There’s a feeling I can’t get rid of that we have to hurry back to our time. ‘This is the last question you get to ask about my past. We have to return to the Citadel now; time is passing too quickly.’

‘Tell me how long.’

‘I don’t follow.’

‘How long were you Lorian’s Apprentice?’

Her question is intriguing. I honestly don’t know why my apprenticeship took so long. Maybe I was just a slow student.

‘Well?’ she repeats.

‘I don’t know why you’re so interested, but for what it’s worth, I was Lorian’s Apprentice for two hundred years.’