“Amelia…” he murmured in sleepy confusion.
“Sorry, Will, we won’t see her until later. It’s just me,” Eleanor said gently.
Guilt’s claws slashed at him and he tensed. Here, with me. Despite what he had said, Eleanor had not abandoned him. Of course she hasn’t. Look what she went through with Conlan; she has always been willing to suffer for those she loves. Sharp tearing teeth joined guilt’s claws to make a meal of his good intentions. He wanted to say something, something wise, something right, something that would fix what he had done, but no words came. It was Eleanor who spoke first.
“I’m sorry, Will—I shouldn’t have judged you. I’m just as guilty of crimes against the people of Mydren,” she said, her hand still running over his hair.
Will rolled onto his back, looking up at the dark silhouette Eleanor made against the lightening sky as she knelt at his head.
“What I did was an accident, as the earthquake in Nethrus was,” Will said slowly. “It doesn’t absolve us from the guilt, but we can’t yield to its pressure. It should push us to work harder to make amends. What I said to you, however, wasn’t an accident. It was cruel, vicious and calculated. You didn’t deserve it. Please forgive me.”
There was silence. It grew, filling with coldness and distance. Eleanor had stopped stroking his hair. She was still, her head bowed, arms wrapped round her tiny body. It was the shaking shoulders that made Will aware that she was crying. Horrified at how much he had hurt her, Will forced himself up and pulled her into his arms. She stiffened but did not force him away.
“I’m sorry Eleanor, so sorry,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. She relaxed against him and Will let the warmth of her body spread through his.
“I know something is going on with you, Will,” Eleanor said, her voice flat and tear-filled. Will felt his body tense; there was a pause as she felt it too, then she continued. “And Conlan’s not stupid: he’s suspicious too. Whatever you’ve done, or are going to do, whatever is giving you the bags under your eyes and the snappy attitude, it would be better if you just told us. We can handle it. We’re stronger together.”
I can’t tell you, Eleanor. I want to, but I just can’t do that to you. To any of you.
Eleanor did not move, did not push him, just leant her head against his chest, listening to his frantic, panicked heartbeat as he forced his brain to think, to form a plan.
“You once told me you trusted me,” Will said quietly, already hating himself for the lies and manipulation he was planning. “I need you to trust me now. To help me.”
Eleanor lifted her head, pulling herself away from him, her voice fearful.
“What’s the matter, Will?”
Will sighed. No turning back now. “Remember the dragon?”
Eleanor shuddered. “Yes.”
“Well, he’s been attacking my dreams, knocking my energy out of my control.”
“Why?” Eleanor asked in hushed terror.
“Because I promised that when we got the connection working we would release him. He can feel the connection and wants out.”
“Then we need to go back to the waterfall and free him,” Eleanor insisted.
Will shook his head. “No, please, listen to me. We’re a very long way from the waterfall, we’re on a mission to rescue Conlan’s grandfather, it’s already taking us too long to get there, and we can’t take a detour. If anything happened to Conlan’s grandfather I’d never forgive myself. If you’re willing to help, I can cope with the dragon until we have Gregor. We can go after that.”
Eleanor stared at him; in the growing dawn light he could see the conflict in her expression. Doubt and worry filled her voice when she spoke.
“How can I help?”
Will smiled. “If the dragon can’t find me, he can’t torment me. I need you to drain my energy, down to the lowest level you can without killing me, and keep it low. That way, I’m harder to locate. I’ve tried doing it myself, but it would be easier if someone else did it for me.”
Eleanor frowned. “Won’t that make you weak and tired, give you headaches?”
Will nodded. “Yes, but I can control that with sleep and lepdrac. I can’t control what the dragon does to me. Please, Eleanor, I’m struggling. I need your help and your silence.”
Eleanor burst into tears, throwing her arms around Will’s neck.
“So brave,” she murmured, kissing his cheek. He felt her tears drip onto his face.
Evil, hateful, foul, loathsome, heinous, the cold, hard voice in his head spat at him. Lie and manipulate those you love, twist their emotions to serve your purpose. Make them think your actions are motivated by courage, when in truth you’re a coward, clinging to a life you don’t deserve. Will forced the voice deep down inside. The lies had bought him some time and some help, which was all that mattered.
“Of course I’ll help you,” Eleanor continued, pulling away from him, unaware of the raging storm that battered Will’s heart. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Will cupped her face, drawing his thumb over the scar under her eye that she had not let him stitch, tears collecting to the side as he did so, and for the first time he told the truth.
“I thought I was strong enough to bear this on my own, but I’m not.”
Eleanor gave him a smile. “Perhaps true strength is knowing when to ask for help.”
Kip
As Will had expected, they found Davlin sat at the edge of the clearing, waiting for them. Looking as tired as Eleanor did, he rose silently to follow as they walked back to the camp. How long were they sat with me? Gratitude and guilt swamped his heart in equal measure, while the lie he had told clattered through his head, leaving doubt and disquiet in its wake.
“Eleanor, how are we going to explain this?” Will asked in English.
Eleanor glanced at him and smiled, but did not stop walking as she answered, her lack of hesitation or concern giving the impression she had already thought it through. Her manner as she explained was that of a teacher giving a lecture.
“It was your comment about the dragon being able to locate you that made me think about it. I’ve been talking to Arran about the time we spent at Katadep. Did you know that Enforcers can feel us, feel our energy from a distance?” Will shook his head, and Eleanor smiled, warming to her topic. “According to Arran, it’s like we glow. They have to be fairly close, but they don’t have to be touching us, either physically or with their energy. Arran says he could recognise each of us in the dark by something he called our ‘energy signature’. Apparently Amelia has the strongest, most well-defined signature. Which I thought was a little odd, but I guess she’s connected to her element all the time, like I am, and there is a lot of air, just like there’s a lot of earth…”
Will smiled—did Eleanor’s confusion stem from discovering someone might be stronger than she was, or from the fact that Amelia was that person?
Seeing Will’s smile, Eleanor faltered and blushed. “Anyway,” she continued, “if we’re really going to infiltrate the North Tower to rescue Gregor, then having the four of us be beacons the Enforcers can see in the dark might not be good for our ability to be stealthy. Plus, we’ve only just begun to scratch the surface of what we can do with our energy in conjunction with our talismans. So I was planning on telling everyone that we were running a series of tests on our energy and how our talismans work, to see how well we might be able to operate with very little energy, the effects this would have, how long we could go without full energy levels, what other uses we can put our talismans to and whether we would be able to pull energy to us quickly from our talismans if we needed it.”
Will stopped walking, momentarily stunned. Having only recently begun to appreciate the complexity and potential hazards of lying, he recognised that the lie Eleanor had created on his behalf was both elegant and simple. He doubted that even Amelia would question it. Eleanor turned to face him, a big grin spreading across her face.
“If I tell you yo
u’re a genius, is it going to go to your head?” Will asked.
Eleanor giggled—such an innocent, joyful sound. Who would ever believe her capable of such devious deceit?
Lies within lies, malicious, wicked, corrupt… With supreme effort Will focused on his breathing, calming his mind and silencing the cold, bitter voice in his head, knowing it was his conscience he was throttling.
It was the delicious smell of honey, cinnamon and porridge that welcomed them back into the camp as the sun breached the horizon, seen as slices of sharp, gold light through the trees. Will had been listening to Davlin’s rumbling stomach since they had started walking back and was not surprised when he marched quickly past, heading for the large pot Moylan was stirring over the fire. Eleanor trotted after him and Will came to a halt, wanting to enjoy this quiet, ordinary moment. Davlin and Eleanor were greeted with smiles and warm words, which gave Will a deep sense of cohesion. He sighed, letting the feeling of calm wash over him as he watched Eleanor settle between Freddie and Davlin to eat her breakfast.
“Where have you been?” Conlan asked, from behind his left shoulder, the English careful and pitched so that only Will would hear.
Will turned. Conlan stood behind him in his Idiot outfit, minus the hat. There was an odd lurch in reality; the missing scar, hidden under layers of makeup, made Conlan seem like a different man for a moment, gentler somehow. Even so, the red smile painted onto his face was being forced into the stiff, blank mask he wore when he was unsure how he should be reacting to a situation.
“Apologising,” Will said, the word filled with more pain and remorse than he had intended.
“All night?”
Will shrugged. “I could spend all night saying I was sorry, and it still wouldn’t make it right.” Conlan’s expression softened and Will smiled. “But as it happens, no, not all night. Eleanor has some ideas and we were discussing some tests she wants to run. She took advantage of my guilt over my behaviour to get me to agree to help.”
Conlan raise a questioning eyebrow, and Will shook his head. “I’ll let Eleanor explain; she’ll do a better job.”
Conlan rolled his eyes. “Why is it I always feel one step behind where Eleanor’s concerned?”
Will chuckled. “I think that’s just women for you.”
Conlan grinned, his gaze drifting back to where Eleanor sat enjoying her breakfast, teasing Davlin for the speed at which he was eating. They must have gone without dinner last night to sit with me. Wait… I missed dinner too! Just the thought made Will’s stomach gripe and groan.
He glanced back, intending to excuse himself to get some food, and saw the look of adoration Conlan directed at Eleanor. After all the deception, the lies that left a nasty taste in his mouth, Will felt the need to tell his friend some truth, to confess and ask for forgiveness for something, anything.
“The night you came back with Eleanor,” Will said, his voice soft, eyes distant, as the fight in the canyon flitted across his mind’s eye. “I thought you were mad and rather stupid for dragging a child here. How would she possibly survive where three grown women hadn’t? I was wrong. You saw what the rest of us didn’t; you saw her strength, her confidence, her intelligence. I’m sorry I doubted you.”
There was silence. Will did not understand the pain in Conlan’s eyes or the blush that spread up his neck, disappearing under his white makeup.
“Actually,” Conlan said, dropping his head, “what I saw was the most beautiful creature in existence. I saw perfection, and I wanted it. I told myself I was saving her, but I didn’t do it for her: I did it for my own selfish desire because I didn’t understand love enough to recognise that letting her go, letting her die, would’ve been kinder. As a result, Eleanor has been subjected to the most horrific pain and terror—most of it at my hands. I knew she was brave, but the rest of it was just happy coincidence. You have nothing to apologise for.”
Will smiled. He had always wondered when Conlan had fallen for Eleanor, but he had never expected Conlan to volunteer the information.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Eleanor’s traits shine through in her expression, her eyes and her bearing. You might not have realised it at the time, but I’m quite sure that that was what attracted you to her in the first place. You made an instinctive choice rather than an intellectual one, but you have good instincts. You should trust them. I do.”
Conlan lifted his head. “I’d never considered it like that,” he said, and a weight seemed to lift from him as he stood taller, his eyes bright.
“That’s why I’m the Sage and you’re the Idiot,” Will told him, joining in when Conlan burst out laughing.
They rode harder than normal, pushing the horses to get some distance from Merckley and also to catch up with the others, Lady and Brutus panting and sweating in the heat. It was only when Conlan called down from his vantage point that they were about to encounter travellers that they slowed the pace and started their juggling and singing.
It was lunchtime when they reached the place Mickle and Conlan had agreed to meet. Will listened to Eleanor explain her testing ideas, listened to her lie to her friends—and the man she loved—and felt sick. No one raised any serious objections, although Amelia had wanted to know why it had to be Will who was going to be the guinea pig for Eleanor’s energy signature experiments. The little pixie pointed out that it had to be either Will or Freddie to start with. Neither of the two men had permanent connections to their element, so when their energy was drained it would stay low until it was manually increased; and Freddie’s role in their theatrical endeavours required more physical exertion than Will’s, so he would be less able to deal with the potential side effects. In private Amelia would no doubt show her distress, but she agreed that the testing would give them some useful information.
Once again Will fought down his guilt; however, he resolved to actually do some of the testing Eleanor had talked about. If nothing else, it might give them more idea how to fight back if they got drained by Enforcers again, and how to better use their talismans.
As they travelled towards the next town, the constant sway of Meran’s walk, the heat, his hot clothing and the headache pounding angrily behind his forehead all combined to make Will miserable. Eventually he saw sense and returned to the cart to lie down, giving up his robes and Meran to his understudy. Mickle was delighted. It took Will two attempts to pull himself into the cart without the steps being down, but he ignored the humourous comments at his expense as Moylan and Elroy sniggered. Inside, Amelia was sat at the table stitching pieces of leather together, and Arran was asleep in his bed.
“He’s been asleep for a few hours,” Amelia whispered, seeing Will’s questioning look. “He’s been quiet for a few days and didn’t look good this morning. I checked his temperature—he was warm, but nothing serious—and I suggested he have a lie down. Maybe he’s just got a virus.”
Will raised an eyebrow, unsure if Amelia realised how dangerous that could be in a world that had yet to discover antibiotics. With their heightened Avatar immunity it was not something that had really come up before.
Will crouched at Arran’s side, observing him. Although he was asleep, he was not restful: his pupils twitched backwards and forwards behind his eyelids and there were deep purple bags under his eyes that Will had not noticed before. And when was the last time you took a good look? Arran’s cheeks were flushed, but with a blotchy pink, and sweat dribbled down the sides of his face. Reaching out a hand, Will held it against his patient’s forehead.
“Amelia, you said you tested his temperature a few hours ago and it was fine, yes?” Will asked.
Amelia frowned. “Not fine, but not a problem. Why?”
Will pulled himself up. “Because he’s burning up now. We have to stop; Arran needs help.”
There was a flurry of activity as Freddie and Teris scouted out a place they could stop, their shouts and whistles calling when a suitable place was found. Inside the cart, using damp rags to try and bring Arran’s
temperature down as he drifted in and out of consciousness, Will felt the cart being pulled off the main road and onto a much rougher track that led steeply down. After a lot of bouncing and jolting, the cart at last came to a stop.
Wanting fresh water, Will stuck his head out of the door. The carts were parked next to each other, hidden from the road behind a large rocky outcrop. Activity was happening all around him, horses being unhitched from harnesses, saddles and bridles being removed and firewood being gathered. Will spotted Kip and motioned him over, asking him to fetch water and ensure that Conlan knew Arran was very ill. Worry filled the boy’s soft brown eyes and he dashed off.
Will ducked back inside, leaving the door open to the breeze. Amelia sat at Arran’s side, holding his hand as Will pulled out his medicine bag and all the various bottles and vials he had, trying to work out the best treatment to try.
It was the jingling bells of his hat that alerted Will to Conlan’s arrival.
“What’s wrong with him?” Conlan asked as he stepped inside the cart, pulling his hat and wig off.
“I don’t know yet,” Will admitted. “Amelia says he’s been quiet for the last few days, and he’s got a temperature, a high one. I was going to deal with that first.”
“Do you have bark from the Ellet tree?” Conlan asked. “That’s good for fevers.”
Will opened his hand to reveal the small glass jar half full of dark, almost black, fragments of Ellet tree bark.
Conlan nodded. “I forget sometimes that your skills and knowledge in healing superseded mine a long time ago.”
Will smiled at the unexpected compliment.
“Conlan?” Arran’s voice was weak and scratchy. He sounded like he was forcing himself to focus.
“I am here, Arran,” Conlan said, taking Amelia’s place at his side as she moved out of the way.
Arran grabbed Conlan’s arm, almost pulling himself up in his urgency to speak. “Please do not let Will use any of his potions on me.”
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