Darkness Falls

by Mia James

  ‘Quiet,’ said April, her eyes on Gabriel.

  ‘We have to go north,’ he said and began to move up a path.

  ‘Hey! Where are we going?’ hissed Caro, but Gabriel was gone. She turned to April. ‘Where’s he going?’ April just shrugged and set off after him. Gabriel moved fast, plunging through the gaps between the trees, taking paths across open fields, skirting housing developments, as sure-footed in the dark as he was in full daylight.

  ‘He sure doesn’t move like someone who’s dying,’ complained Caro.

  Finally they came to the edge of another thickly wooded area. Gabriel hesitated, looking around and sniffing the air. Finally he walked in and the trees swallowed them up again. ‘More woods? Where are we?’

  ‘This is Coldfall Wood,’ said Gabriel. ‘We’re on the edge of the Islington and St Pancras cemetery.

  ‘Another graveyard? That’s great,’ said Caro.

  ‘No, this place is different,’ said April. ‘Can’t you feel it?’

  There was something different about it. It was just as dark, if not darker than Queen’s Wood, but it didn’t have the same oppressive feel to it. Maybe she had been sensing the death back there too. Even Caro seemed happier among these trees.

  ‘What about your spiky-toothed friends?’ she asked Gabriel.

  He shook his head, examining the ground. ‘They won’t come here.’

  Gabriel strode ahead and Caro turned to April.

  ‘Next time we go on a nature ramble, remind me not to invite your boyfriend. He’s not big on the giggles, is he?’

  April flicked her torch on and peered at the book.

  ‘Mandrake is a root that grows under trees,’ she read. ‘Apparently it got its name because it’s shaped like a man. Legend has it, it grows under the trees wherever someone’s been hanged.’

  ‘Better and better,’ sighed Caro. ‘I take it back. It’s creepy here too. But aren’t roots under the ground? How are we going to find them?’

  Gabriel walked back. ‘Hand me the trowel.’

  Bending down under a tall tree, he dug a small trench then scrabbled with his hands, finally pulling out a soil-covered lump that looked for all the world like a grubby version of the fresh ginger on sale in the supermarket.

  ‘How did you know it was there?’

  He held the orange root up to Caro’s nose.

  ‘I smelled it.’

  Caro took a tentative sniff, then recoiled, pulling a face. ‘Just smells like dirt to me.’

  ‘That’s the point, I think you’ll find.’

  They whirled around. An elderly woman was standing behind them in a small clearing, holding the leads of two huge Rottweilers. The way they were baring their teeth, April got the impression they weren’t too happy to have visitors. Gabriel stepped out, putting himself between the woman and the girls.

  ‘Leave us alone,’ he said quietly. April was surprised to see the aggression on Gabriel’s face.

  One of the dogs reared up snarling, his sharp fangs exposed and snapping at him. Gabriel stopped, but he didn’t give ground. It looked as if he and the dogs were in a staring contest.

  ‘I’m surprised at you, Gabriel,’ said the woman. She was small, with grey hair drawn back into a bun. She was dressed in a padded jacket and green wellies, as if she had just been out walking her dogs.

  ‘And why would that be?’ said Gabriel, never taking his eyes from the dog in front of him. ‘Old age catching up with you?’

  The woman gave a hollow laugh.

  ‘Don’t insult me,’ she said with unconcealed threat. ‘I know why you’re here. The question is why you would take such a risk.’

  April looked between them.

  ‘What are you talking about? Gabriel, do you know her?’

  The woman looked at April.

  ‘So you’re the one. You’re prettier than I had heard. I can see why he’s so—’

  ‘Don’t speak to her!’ snapped Gabriel. He took two steps towards her and the dog barked, a clear warning.

  ‘Tell your mutts to back off,’ growled Gabriel. ‘Or you know what will happen.’

  ‘Do I?’ asked the woman. ‘Your aura is not what it was, Gabriel. You’re weak. Now why is that?’

  ‘Don’t underestimate me, old woman.’

  ‘And do not threaten me!’ she snapped. ‘You know the rules.’

  ‘Don’t speak to me of rules, witch!’ growled Gabriel. ‘There are no rules any more. They are going to rise up and swallow this place like a wave.’

  The woman laughed. ‘“They”? Do you still speak of yourself as if you are somehow different? I think we both know that’s not true. What about the one in Hanbury Street? Or Mitre Square?’

  ‘Do you still listen to gossip?’ shouted Gabriel. ‘Are you really so blinkered—’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake, what’s going on?’ April demanded. ‘What’s all this about?’

  The woman looked at April and the anger clouding her face seemed to clear.

  ‘Your friend is not welcome in these woods,’ she said softly. ‘It is a clean place, a good place. We do not allow the darkness to enter here.’

  ‘You will have no choice, you stupid old woman!’ shouted Gabriel. ‘Nothing will stop them. Nothing. The darkness is coming, even you must see that!’

  ‘Is that a threat?’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake, you sound like a pair of children,’ said April. ‘Look, I don’t know why he’s upset you, but clearly you don’t like vampires coming here.’

  The woman looked at her sharply.

  ‘Yes, he’s a vampire. Yes, we knew it, yes, he’s helping us. So what?’

  ‘It is forbidden for them to come here. It’s against the ancient lore—’

  April surprised herself by laughing out loud.

  ‘Oh just listen to yourself,’ she said. ‘“Ancient lore”? You sound like something from some old film. You’re not Gandalf and this isn’t the Shire.’

  The woman blinked at her, a look of astonishment on her face. Gabriel seemed equally awestruck.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry we had to come here,’ said April more evenly. ‘But it was important. Something’s happening with the vampires out there. I don’t know what it is, if it’s this darkness Gabriel’s talking about, but he’s right: it’s breaking all the rules, vampire or otherwise. If you’re really some kind of witch, I doubt your magic circle or your ancient lore is going to protect you. It didn’t stop us entering your woods.’

  The woman’s face betrayed a ghost of a smile.

  ‘She has spirit. And wisdom, too,’ said the woman. ‘You have chosen well, Gabriel.’

  ‘I think you’ll find I chose him,’ said April. ‘But thank you.’

  The woman gave a low whistle and the two dogs whimpered and lay down on the ground. She stepped forward. ‘May I?’ she asked gently.

  April nodded. The woman lifted a hand, pulling April’s hair back behind her ear.

  ‘I understand. Child, you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, I need not add to your burden. Take your herbs and go in peace.’

  She touched April on the shoulder and leant in to whisper in her ear.

  ‘And take an old lady’s advice: don’t let him see how much you care.’

  When April turned to ask her more, the woman had gone. As if on a command, the dogs leapt to their feet and ran off in opposite directions.

  ‘Whoo … That was one crazy lady,’ said Caro. ‘And she didn’t seem to like you, eh, big guy?’

  ‘I shouldn’t have brought you here,’ said Gabriel, clearly still furious. ‘I should have known she would find us.’

  ‘But who was she?’ asked April.

  Gabriel didn’t seem to hear her question, instead muttering to himself, ‘Those stupid, stubborn, blinkered, bigoted …’

  ‘Gabriel!’

  ‘Witches, April. She was a witch.’

  ‘I thought witches wore pointy hats,’ said Caro. ‘Not Barbour jackets.’

  ‘Vampires ar
e scared of witches?’ asked April. ‘Why?’

  ‘That’s why,’ said Gabriel, pointing to their bag. ‘Because they still have knowledge which can undermine all that we are. Even when nothing else can touch us, they can find a way.’

  ‘Well thank God for that,’ said Caro. ‘No offence.’

  Gabriel gave a grim smile. ‘None taken, Caro. And perhaps you’re right, after all. Maybe it is good to know someone’s standing in the way.’

  April looked around, still frightened that the vampire trackers would catch them.

  ‘I only hope they are.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  April stood at Miss Holden’s back door, holding up an orange plastic carrier bag. She felt like a homeless person begging for shelter. Which, she supposed, she was in a way.

  ‘What have you got there?’ asked the teacher.

  ‘I think you can guess, Miss.’

  ‘Been on a nature trail, April?’ she asked with a hint of irony. ‘Listen, I’m glad I could be of some help, but if you’ll excuse me, I have some marking to do.’ Miss Holden began to close the door, but April put her foot in the gap.

  ‘I need help, Miss,’ she said firmly. ‘Help me make it. Please.’

  Miss Holden looked at her for a long moment, then opened the door.

  ‘Come in.’

  The teacher bolted the door behind them, then walked over to the sink and began filling her copper kettle.

  ‘I appreciate your position, April,’ she said, ‘but I can’t help you with this. You have no idea how difficult it’s been to help you as much as I have.’

  ‘Difficult for you? My dad was killed, Miss! My whole world has fallen apart and without Gabriel I have nothing left! How is this harder for you?’

  ‘I don’t make the rules, April. I can’t simply decide to help just because you ask.’

  ‘Rules? That’s what this is about? Why is everyone talking to me about rules all of a sudden? My mum’s become some sort of moral beacon – so’s Gabriel and that old woman, now you.’

  ‘What old woman?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. The point is: there are no rules any more. The Suckers aren’t toeing the line, or haven’t you noticed? “By midnight”? “No children”? “No celebrities”?’

  Miss Holden looked startled.

  ‘Oh, I’m learning – that’s what I came to Ravenwood for, isn’t it? But all those rules have been broken, so what makes you think you should stick to your narrow code, especially when it’s wrong?’

  ‘Even if I agreed with you …’

  ‘Forget it, then. Just forget about it. I thought you were going to help me.’

  ‘I did, April! I told you about the book – what more do you want?’

  April stood up and walked towards the door.

  ‘Sit down, April.’

  ‘No—’

  ‘SIT DOWN, damn you!’

  Miss Holden grabbed April’s arm and pulled her into a chair.

  ‘All right, listen to me. I know you’re angry and confused – God knows you have a right to be. But this isn’t all about you, however much it may feel like it. I didn’t make the rules, I learned them from my father, as all Guardians do, and I grew up believing them. At first I thought they were just fairy tales, something to scare the children with and keep them in bed at night, but when I was old enough, he showed me that his stories were true.’

  ‘Where’s your dad now?’ asked April.

  ‘He’s dead, April. Being a Guardian is a bit like being a bomb-disposal expert. You have to learn a lot, and if you get one detail wrong then it’s all over very quickly.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. Unlike you, Guardians get to choose. It was the life he always wanted. He believed in our cause the same way that I believe in it … but it’s not my private crusade. The Guardians are a huge organisation. They’re in every country on earth, present at every level of society. And like any organisation, there is a hierarchy. I can’t decide to change the way we do things. There are consequences if I choose to break the rules.’

  ‘But you have a choice: you can decide to change the way you do things.’

  Yes, I can. I also have to decide if I think doing so is worth the consequences.’

  ‘They’re bad consequences?’

  She sighed and nodded.

  ‘I’m sorry about that, Miss, but this is a matter of life or death. If someone appeared on your doorstep, bleeding to death, would you just shut the door and make a cup of tea?’

  ‘No, I suppose not.’

  ‘What would you do?’

  ‘I’d do something about it.’

  April picked up her bag and plonked it on the table.

  ‘Well, let’s do something about it then.’

  Making the Dragon’s Breath was a long process and April knew she would never have managed it alone. Miss Holden worked through the night, preparing the plants, grinding them down using a pestle and mortar, then boiling them to a paste. The kitchen was full of steam, piles of chopped leaves and pots and pans. It all made April think of her dad. Every birthday, he would insist on making her a cake. Both he and April would end up covered in flour, with butter in their hair, and hundreds and thousands stuck to their clothes. Silvia would hover around, moaning that they should have gone to Fortnum and Mason, but she’d still gobble up the wonky old cake at the end and declare it the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted. Her dad would give her a kiss and say, ‘That’s because it was made with love.’ There were none of those old Dunne family traditions on her last birthday of course, but then the Dunne family was hardly the same any more, was it? And now here April was, in a very different kitchen, making a woman she hardly knew create a magic potion to save someone she had every reason to hate – and probably ruining her life in the process. It was a different kind of love, but April could see there was love here nonetheless.

  ‘You okay?’

  April looked up, snapped out of her trance and blushed.

  ‘Sorry, I was just thinking of my dad,’ she stuttered. ‘We, er, we used to make cakes in the kitchen … don’t worry, it’s stupid.’

  ‘No, it’s not stupid, April. You should remember your dad. As long as you do, there’s always a little piece of him in the world.’

  ‘You really believe that?’

  ‘I know that, April. It’s something I’ve lived through.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said April. ‘Sometimes I forget that I’m not the only person in the world who has lost their dad.’

  ‘It does that to you,’ said Miss Holden.

  She gestured that April should come over to the stove where the potion was simmering in a small copper saucepan.

  ‘Okay, give me your thumb,’ she said.

  ‘My … my thumb?’ stuttered April, but before she could object, the teacher had seized her hand and pricked the ball of her thumb with a knife.

  ‘Ow!’ cried April, trying to pull away, but Miss Holden held tight, squeezing the wound until a couple of drops of blood plopped into the mixture,

  ‘Sorry, April,’ she said, releasing her and handing her a square of kitchen towel. ‘There are plasters over there in the cabinet.’

  ‘Why the hell did you put my blood in there? I didn’t see anything about that in the recipe.’

  ‘No, that’s one of those things passed down father to daughter, a Guardian’s secret. The Dragon’s Breath is a spell of evil, remember? But my father taught me that adding a Fury’s blood purifies the potion, makes it a weapon for good. Now only Gabriel can use it.’

  ‘I don’t understand, why only Gabriel?’

  ‘Because Gabriel is different, April. Whatever the other Guardians think, I know they’re not all the same. He’s infected by the darkness, but his heart is pure. He wants to be good, he wants to escape from the fog that surrounds him. Remember that when a vampire turns, he has to want to live, he has to will his body to fight for eternal life. There’s no science to it, or at least no science we understand yet
, but it’s to do with the human soul. Your blood in the potion will help him find his way back. That’s the best way I can explain it.’

  April watched as she poured a thick brown liquid from the small saucepan and filtered it through some gauze into a small glass bottle.

  She stuck a little cork in the top, then carefully sealed it with wax.

  ‘There you go,’ she said, handing April the bottle. April held it up to the light. ‘Is that it? It looks horrible,’ she said.

  ‘Probably tastes horrible, too,’ said the teacher. ‘But it will do the trick, I’m pretty sure of that.’

  ‘How can it, though? How can a load of ferns and muddy roots and boiled up blood cure Gabriel of some deadly virus?’

  ‘It’s not a deadly virus, and this formula will counteract the effect of whatever it is in your body which stops the vampire disease and is preventing Gabriel from regenerating.’

  ‘But how?’ April frowned, shaking the bottle.

  Miss Holden laughed.

  ‘If it was in a pill, would you think it would work?’

  April blushed. ‘Yes, I suppose I would.’

  ‘It’s exactly like antibiotics. They work by helping your body fight off bacteria. Alexander Fleming discovered penicillin by watching how bread mould attacked bacteria, and people had been using the same stuff in natural remedies for years. Spider’s webs have a type of penicillin in them, believe it or not. So is it so strange that that bag of stuff you found in a wood can cure Gabriel?’

  ‘If you put it like that, it makes sense, but’ – she gestured around the kitchen – ‘it does seem a bit weird to me. I’m used to Lemsip.’

  ‘Well, if you have a cold, drinking honey and lemon would do you just as much good.’

  ‘Really? I guess I assume because it comes in a packet it will work better.’

  ‘Belief is a strong healer too.’

  ‘Thanks, Miss. I know this was a big thing for you to do.’

  ‘Sometimes it takes someone to tell you what was right in front of your nose. My every instinct is that I should do nothing to help a vampire, any vampire. But I think there’s something different about your vampire. I hope I’m right. And your little speech was true – all the rules we used to play by have changed. As a history teacher, I should remember the Romans.’