23
Islay
Every scent a memory
Sea and grass
Peat and salt
Where we came from
And what we left behind
The journey to Islay was like a dream of beauty, wind and rain and sea shaping a landscape unchanged for millions of years. It was like a balm on Sarah’s wounds, in spite of her grief for Aunt Juliet and Shadow, and in spite of the fear of another demon strike.
There were still no dreams. She’d always hoped for the dreams to disappear, she had fantasized about how peaceful, how free her life would be without them. But now that they didn’t come, it wasn’t like that at all. Being dreamless left her lost and uncertain and added to her terror.
She didn’t know what she was going to find at Midnight Hall. She suspected that the demon-tigers and the attack on Aunt Juliet were just the beginning of another wave – another Valaya? But she couldn’t count on the dreams to warn her. There was a constant sense of anxiety with every movement, every change of light, every unexpected noise.
Still, even with the black cloud hanging over her, Sarah couldn’t help feel a huge relief to be on the ferry to Islay – because everything around her spoke of freedom. Even in her sadness and fear, she could hear the call of home.
Nicholas stood beside her on deck, unable to keep his eyes from her. Sarah’s black hair was blowing in the wind, and she looked at one with the landscape, as if she’d been born from it – a Celtic goddess, going back where she belonged.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said over the roar of the wind.
“Yes,” he answered simply.
Something in his voice made Sarah do a double take. She studied his face. He was carrying a weight on his shoulders. Sarah could sometimes feel it so intensely that she could nearly see it, an invisible, malevolent incubus encroaching on his back, refusing to give him peace. The uncertainty in his eyes wasn’t like him – he was usually so confident, even arrogant with it. As if he ruled the world, as if nothing could ever worry him or break his composure.
“Are you OK?”
“Yes, yes. I’m fine,” he smiled thinly. He couldn’t confide in her, of course. He couldn’t speak about what tortured him, and what he had on his mind. He couldn’t tell her that the attack on Juliet hadn’t been his idea at all, but his father’s. That he hadn’t known it was going to happen, not so fast, so cruel.
His eyes roamed over her face, blue shadows under her eyes, cheekbones jutting out. He could see how much the attack on Juliet and Shadow’s death had taken out of her.
“You’ll love it on Islay,” she said and smiled at him, willing him to experience the same feelings she had as the ferry made its way across the sound.
“I’m sure.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and brought her closer. She breathed in his scent of earth and smoke, still persistent in spite of the wind and the smell of the sea. Nicholas took a quick look around. Sean and Elodie were on the other side of the boat. It was a good moment to speak.
“I’m so sorry about what happened to your aunt.” He cupped her cheek, turning her to face him, his black eyes holding her gaze. It was too good a chance to remind her how much she needed him. How much she depended on him. “They’re everywhere. The demons, I mean. Nowhere is safe. Except when you’re with me.”
Sarah gave him a wan smile and leant into him, feeling suddenly weakened. “I know. I’m very lucky to have you. We’ll be just fine,” she said.
“Yes. As long as we’re together, we’ll be just fine.”
They stood in silence for a minute, Sarah’s head on his shoulder, then he spoke again.
“Sarah.”
“Yes?”
“Do you ever dream of going away? Somewhere far away from all this? Somewhere entirely different. A new life.”
“What brought this on?” she asked softly.
“I’m not sure. Just … thinking.”
“Away from my home, no. I love Scotland. Away from being a Midnight …” She sighed. “Yes. Yes, of course I would. It’s not an option, but I wish I could. Why, are you planning to run away with me?” She smiled.
“I’d love to. You and me. Some place where nobody could find us.” His voice trailed away.
Sarah slipped her arm around his waist. She could feel his sadness and didn’t know what to do about it. “We can’t run from what we are.”
“I don’t know. Maybe there’s a way. Maybe together things can be different for us.”
Sarah didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t think of the future now, she couldn’t think of going anywhere, being anywhere but Islay. They stood entwined, taking in the beauty around them, heavy burdens on both their minds.
Suddenly, Nicholas interrupted Sarah’s thoughts. “Look!” he pointed to a group of seaweed-covered rocks shining with rain and seawater. A lone seal was sitting there, watching the ferry with its round, black eyes. Sarah met the seal’s gaze and they looked at each other for a few moments before the seal slipped into the water and out of sight.
“A spirit of the water?” asked Sarah dreamily.
“Maybe. Not one of mine. If they were near, I’d know.”
“A free one, then.”
“Lucky for them,” whispered Nicholas, and Sarah was left wondering what he meant.
24
Midnight Hall
The shape of my eyes,
The shape of my arms
The way my hair flows
And the way I stand –
All this from you, and still
I don’t know who you are
“We need food, and peat for the fire,” said Sean. They were just off the ferry, standing beside the cars – Sean’s black Bravo and Nicholas’s huge monster of a Jeep that reminded Sarah of her parents’ car, and not in a good way.
“No need. Mrs McArthur has everything ready for us,” replied Sarah.
Sean’s eyes narrowed. “Is she a Gamekeeper?”
“No, but my parents trusted her just as if she’d been one,” Sarah reassured him.
Sean nodded. “Let’s avoid drawing attention to ourselves as much as we can, anyway.”
Elodie turned her face to the sky. She was wearing a white jacket that swamped her slender frame. She looked deceptively delicate in it. “Do we have far to go? I think it’s going to snow.”
“It won’t take more than an hour.” Sarah pointed along the coast, beyond the heathery hills. “Hopefully we’ll be there before it starts snowing. Follow us.”
She’s acting like herself again, thought Sean, watching her climb into Nicholas’s Jeep. If this is the Islay effect, long may it last.
Sarah leaned back in the seat and let her eyes and mind wander. She took it all in with a sense of hunger, wanting to swallow it all, the sea and the soft, moist hills and the sky above, so wide, so free.
“Did you come to Islay often when you were a child?” asked Nicholas after a while.
Sarah blinked, coming back to herself.
“Yes. A lot. Then …we stopped coming all of a sudden. That was when my parents started going hunting every single night. It was relentless. Looking back, I knew there was something wrong, I could feel it. I just didn’t want to admit it. And they never explained.”
“Never mind. It’s all in the past now.”
Sarah sighed. “Thing is, my past won’t really go away.”
“Yes.” Mine won’t go either. My mother is still with me, thought Nicholas, his mind suddenly whirring with memories. And so is—no. Don’t think of her. It will just break you.
“That’s why I’m here,” Sarah continued. “To find some answers about the past. My parents hardly told me anything, my grandmother was a mystery. There’s an aunt I never knew I had. I just don’t know …”
“… Who you are,” Nicholas finished for her.
“Yes. You read my mind.” Sarah turned to him and her heart leapt. His profile was so handsome, flawless against the wet car window, and beyond it, the stormy sea. His eyes were like obsidian, and his hair blue-black against his ghostly white skin. He looked like some forgotten god of a lost civilization, or someone out of a vision.
And he is, thought Sarah. After all, he did come to me in a dream. And he doesn’t look quite … human, she couldn’t help thinking.
No. She rejected the thought with all her might. He’s a Secret heir, like me – we’re supposed to be a bit unusual.
“It happens to me too,” said Nicholas. “Not knowing who I am.” More than you can imagine.
“You are Nicholas Donal, and you’re my boyfriend,” smiled Sarah. She hated seeing Nicholas so upset.
“That much is sure!” Nicholas smiled back, but his eyes remained solemn. That much is a lie, he thought helplessly, and the bit of his heart that still belonged to him, and not to his father, throbbed painfully once more.
Sarah sat up suddenly. “There it is! That is Midnight Hall, see? Up on the hill! Turn left, just past this bend.”
Sarah rolled down the car window and waved to Sean, who was following them. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and her eyes were shining.
Have I ever felt this way before? Ever in my life? Nicholas asked himself.
They drove along a little winding road that climbed down towards the sea and drew up right in front of Midnight Hall. It was a red sandstone building, with slate-covered roofs and turrets, and a multitude of windows. Right at the back of it was the open beach, and the sea.
“Here we are!” exclaimed Sarah, jumping out of the car the moment it stopped.
“Looks a bit like a haunted house, n’est-ce pas?” whispered Elodie as she lifted her suitcase from the boot of Sean’s car.
“That’s likely. That it’s haunted, I mean – knowing the Midnights,” said Sean matter-of-factly.
“Sarah! Welcome!” A grey-haired woman hurried down the grand stony steps.
“Mrs McArthur!” They hugged briefly.
“I haven’t seen you for so long. I’m so sorry about your parents, Sarah.” She shook her head, twisting her fingers nervously, and Sarah nodded, her eyes downcast, unable to speak, before dashing up the steps. “So, you must be Sarah’s friends? Here for Christmas?”
“Yes. Always up for a party, these Midnights, huh?” said Sean, deadpan, locking the boot of his car.
“Ehm, yes. Aren’t they?” Mrs McArthur laughed feebly. That wasn’t her memory of James Midnight, let alone Morag and Hamish. But it seemed impossible to disagree with this hard-looking, authoritative young man. Was he Sarah Midnight’s boyfriend?
“Thank you, Mrs McArthur. We’ll take it from here,” he told her. Mrs McArthur looked confused.
“Sorry,” intervened Sarah. “I should have introduced you! This is my cousin, Harry Midnight.”
Silence fell for a second, while everybody froze. Everybody but Sean. “Nice to meet you. I’ve always wanted to visit Midnight Hall,” he replied coolly.
“Harry Midnight! Stewart’s son! What a pleasure to meet you! If your poor dad could see you here …”
Elodie drew a breath at the mention of Harry’s name, and Sean noticed her distress.
“Yes. Yes. Lovely to meet you too. Anyway, no reason to come and check on us in the next few days. Enjoy a Christmas break. We’ll come and say goodbye when we leave.”
“Oh. Sure.”
“Thank you so much for all your help, Mrs McArthur. Really, thank you.” Sarah softened Sean’s harsh words.
“A pleasure. If only this house was lived in again,” she sighed. “But sure, you have your own life there in Edinburgh, don’t you? The city is more exciting than this island, I suppose!”
Exciting is one way of putting it, thought Sarah.
“Well, call me if you need anything. Bye, Sarah dear. Bye, Harry.” Mrs McArthur climbed into her car, turning back to wave a couple of times.
“Why did you tell her I was Harry?” whispered Sean as they watched Mrs McArthur’s car trundling down the road.
“Because if something happens to me here, I want you to take over.”
“Me? What about … Nicholas?” He winced, as if saying Nicholas’s name reminded him of the bond between him and Sarah. But he couldn’t help asking.
“Nicholas has a family. A home. You’re free to take over any role you need to. And there’s nobody left if I go. No Midnights left. Except for Elodie, I suppose, and in a way, you.” Sarah’s face wanted to be hard, but there was a tenderness in her eyes that surprised Sean, and confused him. It didn’t last long. Sarah clammed up again, and the warmth was gone.
Sean opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He couldn’t find the words.
“It’s freezing out here,” complained Elodie. Sean turned in surprise. Elodie never complained. He noticed, and not for the first time, how pale she looked, and how her eyes were shadowed with blue.
“Let’s go,” he said, taking her by her cold hand. “Let’s get you warm.”
The majestic wooden door creaked as Sarah opened it. They tip-toed in as quietly as they could into the vast, stoned-paved vestibule, without even being aware that they were doing so – as if they were scared to disturb somebody. There was nobody, of course, but the space didn’t feel empty.
“This is a psychic’s paradise,” said Elodie in a low voice.
The high ceilings, the grey stone floors, the walls full of portraits of long-dead people. The soft, low creaks of an old building forever settling, forever whispering. The chill, musty air, which, Sarah remembered suddenly, would stay chill despite the fireplaces, because of the thickness of the walls and the height of the ceilings. One of those houses that has been ancient forever, since the day it was built.
Sarah shivered as they stood in the hallway, taking it all in. Memories flooded her, of the many times she’d stepped into the Hall with her parents. It was as if she could see the little girl she used to be, walking onto the stone floor with her satchel and the cello case strapped to her back, following her tall, strong-framed father and her graceful, lithe mother, with her black hair spilling down her back – the hair Sarah had inherited. Her Grandfather Hamish had died soon after Sarah’s birth, so she didn’t remember him at all – but the image of Morag Midnight walking down the grand staircase to meet them was burnt into her memory. Her grandmother had been nearly as tall as her father, always dressed in dark colours, standing proud and straight-backed.
“Hello, Sarah,” she always said, without ever giving her a hug or a kiss. Morag wasn’t that kind of person. But Sarah could feel that her grandmother was happy to see them, all three of them.
“I’m back,” she whispered to the empty space where her family had been. Everyone stood still.
It was Elodie who broke the spell. She jerked her head towards the door. “Sean. There’s someone outside.”
“Demons?”
“I don’t know.” She closed her eyes briefly. “Two of them.”
Not yet, prayed Sarah silently. Give us just a few hours of peace …
They all turned to face the door, readying themselves. Sarah’s hands were burning, Sean’s sgian-dubh was poised, Elodie’s lips were darkening. As Sean pulled the heavy wooden door open they saw Nicholas’s ravens swooping across the sky and twirling over and around Midnight Hall, as if they were of one mind. Two men stood at the foot of the entrance steps.
Sean squinted in the dusk, trying to make out who – or what – they were. But before he could decide, Elodie screamed, “Niryana!” and shot out, fast and agile. She threw her full weight towards the mysterious figures, and in seconds, one of the men was lying there, unconscious.
25
Deadly Princess
To meet your eyes and see
We’re on the same side
To feel for once that we
Are not alone
Mike had driven from Edinburgh to Oban in a stolen Mini – borrowed, Mike insisted. They had abandoned the car on a double yellow line near Oban harbour with a note on the front seat: I come from Edinburgh, take me back. Thank you.
They had no money left to rent a boat, so Niall went to the pub and came out with somebody’s wallet.
“I’d better watch my pockets while you’re around, Niall,” Mike commented.
“No point. There’s nothing in them.”
“Very funny. Now, where’s our transport?” asked Mike, a nauseous feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. Just thinking of more sailing made him want to be sick. They managed to convince a German couple that they were going to surprise some friends camping on Islay. The generous fee helped, and the couple sailed them over in no time. All they had to do now was find Midnight Hall.
They walked under a milk-coloured blanket of clouds in silence. The sky was heavy with snow, and the wind blew bitter, showing no sign of relenting. There were cottages and little farms dotted here and there on the rolling hills, few and far apart, and they walked on, heads bent against the wind, freezing and exhausted. They tortured themselves with talk of a warm bed, and of food as they walked. Finally, they saw a red sandstone mansion – the first house they’d seen that looked grand enough to be Midnight Hall.
“Hopefully, that will be it,” said Mike wearily. “But even if it’s not, I’m counting on a warm welcome.”
“Even just a cup of tea will do me,” said Niall feebly.
They approached the house with trepidation, Mike with his hand in his pocket, ready to take out the gun he’d kept from the attack on the ship, if needed. They could see through the windows that the fires were lit; somebody was inside. Mike gestured to follow him. In silence, they walked round the back of the house where they spotted a little red Punto.
Through an upstairs window, Niall made out the shape of an old lady with a duster in her hand, and beside her, a little blonde girl. He took Mike’s arm and pointed upwards. “Someone is clearly here. What do we do?” muttered Niall.
Mike surveyed the space around them with his eyes. He spotted a few outhouses, ivy-covered and – most likely – locked.
“We wait until Sean comes in or out,” whispered Mike, pointing to the outhouse closest to them.
“And if he doesn’t? If this isn’t the right place?”
“We need to start walking again,” Mike replied darkly, making his way towards the small stony buildings. They walked across a small stretch of what used to be a garden but was now growing wild, stepping over some gorse bushes and jumping over mossy tree stumps. They tucked themselves behind an ivy-covered wall that protected them from the worst of the wind, and sat with their backs against the stones, hugging their knees for warmth. Time stretches when you haven’t slept properly for days, the cold seeps in your bones, and shelter is only a few yards away and yet unreachable.
“I’m so hungry I’m going to pass out,” Niall complained.
Mike didn’t reply. He had fallen asleep. Niall closed his eyes and let himself nod off too, wondering if that was really Midnight Hall, who were the old woman and the blonde girl? Finally sleep caught up with him too, and he nodded off. They slept huddled together, lullabied by the sound of the sea a few hundred yards away.
“Niall! Niall! Wake up. Somebody is here!” Mike shook Niall out of his slumber. They could hear car doors slamming, and voices.
The world spun around Niall as he got up and followed Mike out of their hiding place. An unkindness of ravens was settling in front of the house, their heads jerking left and right, as if examining their surroundings. That’s a lot of birds, thought Niall, rubbing his frozen hands together.
“They’re going inside. Oh my God, that girl!” Mike yanked on Niall’s rucksack. “That’s the Heron! That’s Sarah!” he cried, pointing to the slender young woman with the waterfall of black hair. “It is! Come on!”
They scurried on, clambering over the tree trunks and scrambling to avoid the gorse bushes. Eventually they found themselves at the foot of the steps, with the ravens eyeing them warily. Niall barely had time to exhale in relief – It’s them, we found them – when something slight and blonde blew out of the house as if carried by the wind, threw him onto the ground, and sat on him. Neither he nor Mike had the time or the energy to scream.
Flat on his back, Niall was frozen, and then with a flip of his left leg he was on top of the girl. It was her turn, now, to be lying on the gravel with someone sitting on her chest. She flailed for a moment then pushed her hair out of her face and glared at him. Chocolate eyes, rosebud lips, lovely long blonde hair. She was like a princess in a fairy tale. He blinked. She’s perfect.
He looked at her face for a little longer than he should have and the blonde girl took advantage of it at once. She lifted herself up and took his face in her hands. Too late, Niall saw that her lips had turned blue. She blew gently in his mouth, and instantly he was out cold.
When Niall woke up, the first thing he saw was a high ceiling, crisscrossed by wooden beams. The second thing he saw was Mike sitting on a rigid sofa beside him. And then, he spotted his deadly fairy-tale princess kneeling beside a lit fire. The smell of peat filled Niall’s nostrils and made him think of home for the first time in a long while.
“Oh, there you are, man,” smiled Mike. “Welcome back.”
Niall tried to sit up, but everything twirled and danced around him, and he had to lie back down.
“What did you do to me?” he managed to ask the blonde girl.
“Poisonous breath.” She had a slight accent, but Niall couldn’t quite place it.
“Don’t worry, she’s one of us. Elodie Midnight,” said Mike.
“Jesus, another Midnight,” Niall blurted out, and everything went black once more.
26
Together We
There’s always more to things than meets the eye
Look closely and try
To read between the lines
When Niall woke again shadows were gathering in the sky and over the sea. The hall was softly lit from the stone fireplace in the middle of the main room, and by many little lamps scattered around. Sarah, Sean, Elodie and Mike were scattered on sofas and armchairs around him.
“I’m having some of that,” was the first thing Niall said, blinking and pointing at the whisky bottle on the low table in front of him.
“Sure!” Sean grinned, and grabbed the bottle to pour the Irishman a glass of the golden-coloured liquid. He had a very young face, Sean noticed, but lined, like someone who’d been through a lot. Niall sat up. It worked, this time. He managed to stay conscious and looked around him, groggy.
“Sorry about earlier, Niall,” said Elodie. Her eyes were mischievous. She didn’t look sorry at all.
“No worries. It’s nice to meet you. And a bit painful.” Niall rubbed his brow.
“It was just a small, tiny dose. You jumped on me.” She shrugged.
“You jumped on me first!”
“I didn’t recognize you. Sorry,” she repeated without a hint of regret, and she tipped her head back, smiling at him from beneath her eyelashes.
“Ah, well. Fair play to you. It was a good hit,” Niall admitted, and turned to look at Sean. “So, Sean Hannay. It’s a privilege to meet you at last, sir.”
“And you,” Sean exclaimed. He opened his arms, struggling for words, his gaze darting from Mike to Niall and back. “You’re alive. Jesus. I didn’t think … I kept hoping …” He was surprised at the wave of emotion he was feeling.
“Niall did die, actually,” Mike remarked. The light of the fire danced on his coffee-coloured skin, the terrible memory casting a shadow on his features.
“Well, sort of,” specified Niall. “I did drown, I’ll give you that, but Flynns can’t die in water, so here I am. You look terrible, Sean.”
Sean had paled hearing of Niall’s brush with death. He took hold of himself. “Now – introductions. Niall,” he said, “meet Sarah Midnight.”
“At last, Sarah!” Niall rose to his feet. To Sarah’s horror, he wrapped his arms around her. Her cheeks flamed scarlet.
“Hello,” she muttered, stiff, but after a few seconds she put her arms around him too. “So, the two of you are the mysterious friends Sean used to speak to all the time.”
“It’s us, yes,” said Mike, smiling kindly.
“What happened in Louisiana? Did they find you? Did they attack you?” asked Sean, leaning forward, impatient for details.
“We intercepted members of the Sabha talking to each other,” said Mike, shaking his head. “Harry was right. The Sabha is corrupted, Sean, there isn’t a shadow of a doubt. They were talking to each other about … about slaughter.” He shuddered. “About all the heirs they’d killed, and where, and the places they were still to hit. When we intercepted them, they sort of … saw us. A map of Grand Isle appeared on the screen, and then it zoomed in on our shack. We disconnected everything, but it was too late. They sent demons. From the sea.”
“Sort of jellyfish creatures I’d never seen before,” Niall intervened, “and I’ve seen a few sea demons. Prehistoric stuff.” He shuddered. “I hope I never cross paths with them again.”
“The Sabha are using Surari to do their bidding,” whispered Sean, horrified. “This is what it’s come to.”
“They were nasty things, I’m telling you. Had Niall not distracted them …”
“Mike would have gone the same way as me. Except he wouldn’t have come back.” Niall looked down in dismay. Sean read in his face the deep bond between them. Good. That’s what we need: loyalty. Harry was the best at creating ties between his people and nourishing them, that’s how we’re still here, his friends, still gathering around his memory.
Right at that moment, like a cold wind, Nicholas strode in. He’d gone for a walk while waiting for Niall to come to. He took in Mike and Niall’s presence and didn’t flinch, didn’t move a muscle. Sean studied his face, but he couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.
“I’m glad to see you’re awake,” he said to Niall. “Sarah told me about you,” Nicholas said. His tone was as expressionless as his face and belied the concern in his words.
“Thank you. You must be …” Mike began. Leaf. The guy with the ravens. That explains why there are so many of them out there.
“I’m Nicholas Donal.”
“Donal? There are no more Donals,” said Niall curtly. Sean’s heart skipped a beat. “At least, that’s what I was led to believe. I thought the last of the Donals died years ago, in the war. My grandfather used to know them.”
Nicholas shrugged. “Clearly, there are still some of us around. Me, and my parents. A lot of Families prefer not to advertise their existence. I’m sure you understand why.”
Sarah shifted uncomfortably. The atmosphere in the room was suddenly charged. “How did you get here, guys?” she asked quickly. She didn’t like Nicholas being subjected to the third degree.
“We managed to find a passage on a cargo ship,” replied Niall. “Thought we were the luckiest fellas alive, until a Makara attacked us.”
“A Makara?” said Sean, astonished. “Really? Oh my God! Was it as deadly as they say?”
Mike nodded. “Worse. Fifteen guys in the crew, plus us. Only one crewman survived – just. And the captain. It’s a miracle we’re alive.”
Sean shook his head in horror.
“By the way, Sarah. There was someone here when we arrived. An old lady,” said Niall.
“Oh yes, the housekeeper. Don’t worry, she’s on our side.”
“And a little girl. With blonde hair,” he added, gesturing to his own reddish-brown hair.
“I didn’t see any little girl. Just an old woman,” Mike intervened.
Sarah stared at him. A blonde girl? The same girl I saw after the scrying spell? Her lips went to form an answer – though she wasn’t sure what she was going to say – when a sudden noise silenced her. Something slamming, deep inside the house.
27
Blood and Paper
Words will reach you
From the depths of time
Hidden in the prayer book
She left behind
“Stay here, Sarah,” said Nicholas at once. Another attack, without my knowledge?
“No. I’m coming with you.” She stood and faced him, the tilt of her chin making it clear that she would not be told what to do. Not in Midnight Hall.
Sean smiled inwardly. The old Sarah, shining through. “Everyone ready?” he whispered, his sgian-dubh in his hand once more.
“Ready.” Elodie’s lips had already turned blue.
“You look freaky,” whispered Niall.
“Shut up,” Elodie growled.
Mike grinned. “Amen!”
The sound had come from the end of the corridor. They stepped out of the room warily, leaving the vestibule and staircase behind them, and advanced towards the heart of the house. Nicholas and Sean were on either side of Sarah at the front of the group, and Niall and Elodie at the back, with Mike behind them, walking backwards, his gun ready.
“I think it came from here,” whispered Sean, and stepped into a room whose walls were lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves brimming with books, and a stone fireplace against the far wall.
“This used to be my grandmother’s study,” Sarah whispered back. The fire had been lit by Mrs McArthur, and Sean noticed at once that it was flickering and hissing, its flames veering towards the windows.
A draught, he thought immediately, and looked towards the heavy velvet curtains drawn over them. Three sets of curtains were still, but one was blowing ever so gently, and from the gap between the two sheets of fabric a fine drizzle was being sprayed in by the wind.
“Over there,” whispered Sean, gesturing to the windows.
“I’m on it.” Nicholas walked over, slow and careful. He threw the curtains open, jumping to the side at once.
A collective intake of breath.
Nothing. Just the open window, and the empty beach beyond it.
“Look.” Elodie pointed to a track of wet footsteps that led to the heavy, dark wooden desk in the corner. “Someone got in. And out again.”
Sarah walked slowly over to the desk. A parcel was sitting on it, wrapped in brown paper and fastened with … stringy seaweed? Her eyes widened. She brushed some sand from the parcel. Sean, Nicholas, Mike and Niall had formed a semicircle around her, all standing on guard.
“There’s a note as well. There.” Elodie gestured to a small, square piece of paper, with a little white-blue Venus shell sitting on top to stop it from blowing away.
Sarah opened it: For Sarah, it read simply.
“Be careful,” Sean reminded her.
She nodded, and gently untied the string of seaweed, opening the parcel with care. Inside was a stack of creamy paper covered in small, old-fashioned writing in black ink. Sarah lifted the first sheet.
Dear Amelia,
It began. Sarah turned the page to look at the signature:
Morag Midnight
“My grandmother’s letters,” she said, wide-eyed.
At that moment, a gust of wind blew through the open window, and with it a shower of rain. She shivered. Long lost voices from the past were calling her. She clutched the stack of letters to her chest.
Sean kept looking around, checking all the dark corners in the room. “Someone left them here. That is pretty obvious. The question is, human or demon?”
“Whoever it was, why did they leave my grandmother’s letters? Why did they have them in the first place?”
“Maybe they’d taken them from the house, and now they’ve returned them,” guessed Elodie.
Sean shrugged his shoulders. “Why? And why now?”
“Because they knew I was coming,” said Sarah, and looked at him, eyes large with fear.
“Watch Sarah. I won’t be long,” Nicholas said suddenly, and before his words could register, he had raced across the room and jumped out of the window.
“Not on your own! Nicholas!” shouted Sarah. But he was already running down the grassy slope that led to the beach.
“I’ll go with him,” said Sean, and poised himself to jump.
“Stay with Sarah,” Elodie overtook him and easily coaxed her agile, supple body out of the window and onto the grass below, giving Sean no time to stop her.