Nine Steps to Sara

by Olsen, Lisa

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sara’s shoulders itched.

  With a swallow, her mouth tasted like a wet, wool blanket; scratchy and dank. Was it morning already? Cracking open her eyes, she could see she was on the couch, but Will was nowhere in sight. Mrs. Poole stood by the corner windows, looking out into the night sky, her features pinched and drawn.

  “What’s going on?” Sara murmured, her tongue thick and heavy.

  “Lie still now, Doctor’s been sent for to make sure you’re alright, my Lady,” she replied without turning.

  “Did I fall and hit my head or something?” It felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Mrs. Poole made no reply and Sara pushed herself a little higher in her seat. “Where’s Will? What’s happening? Why do I feel so… funky?” Her limbs felt heavy like she was moving under water and the lull of slipping back to sleep was strong. “Mrs. P?” Sara prompted when she still ignored her.

  “I… Doctor will be here soon,” she replied, obviously thinking better of whatever she’d been about to say.

  The housekeeper wouldn’t look at her.

  In a dim corner of her mind Sara knew that was a bad sign, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. It was so much easier to float.

  “Where is she, in here?”

  The gruff voice started Sara awake again, and she peered up with a scowl to see Marwick staring down at her with his bushy eyebrows. Shrinking away from his examination, she scratched absently at her arms which itched like anything. Reaching far up the loose sleeves, it occurred to Sara that she didn’t remember owning anything like the thick, black robe she wore. In fact, she couldn’t remember putting it on either. Where was the pretty silk peignoir she’d worn for Will?

  “What’s going on, am I okay?” Sara asked, her voice a little slurred as she fought against the dizziness. Ignoring her, Marwick lifted her face by the chin, turning it first one way and then the other before shining a bright penlight into her eyes. “Hey, quit it,” Sara tried to slap the light away, but he would not be moved.

  “She’s fine,” he declared finally, releasing her from his grasp and straightening. “I’ll give her something to make sure she stays biddable through it all then I’ll attend to the boy.”

  The boy.

  That was enough to pierce the fog permeating Sara’s brain. “What’s wrong with Jack? Where is he?”

  “You’re sure she’ll remember none of this? We’re sunk if she recalls even a jot.” Another voice spoke from behind and Sara turned to see who it was, surprised to find Thomas in her bedroom.

  “Remember what? What are you doing?” she demanded, heart beating faster when Marwick produced a hypodermic needle.

  “She’ll remember none of it, I’ll see to that,” Marwick continued to ignore her completely, filling the syringe from a small glass vial full of bright red liquid. “Hold her.”

  Sara tried to roll off the sofa, but Thomas was there, his grip surprisingly strong; or was she just weak? “There now, my Lady. Stay calm, it’ll all be over before you know it,” he soothed with a genial smile, all the more chilling for the iron hold he had on her arms.

  “Let go of me! What are you… ow!” Sara didn’t have much strength to struggle, and the bite of the needle made her freeze, afraid it might break off in her neck if she moved too suddenly. Heart beating madly, it pushed the poison through her bloodstream like a runaway locomotive, leaching what little remained of her strength and spreading lassitude over her limbs. “Please…” she sobbed, falling back weakly against the couch when they released her. “Somebody tell me what’s going on.”

  “We’re getting you ready for the big event; don’t you like your party dress?” Thomas smiled, stepping back to make room for Marwick, who shoved a cold stethoscope inside the opening in her robe and Sara noted absently that the pretty peach nightgown set was still on, albeit under the scratchy robe.

  “Where’s Jack? Why are you doing this?” Sara felt like she was repeating herself, but neither of them seemed inclined to answer.

  “Good, good,” Marwick muttered absently, moving the stethoscope to another position. “She’s fine. I’ll go see to the boy now, keep her awake; it won’t do to have her out cold.”

  With great effort, Sara tried again, speaking as slowly and distinctly as she could manage. “What’s he doing to Jack?”

  “Preparing him. Don’t worry, my Lady, he’ll feel no pain, I can promise you that.”

  “What are you planning to do to him?” It was impossible to hide the tremble of fear in her voice.

  “Oh, it’s not what I’m going to do with him you have to be worried about,” he grinned.

  “You’re crazy.”

  “Tired is what I am. Tired of waiting all these years for your bloody family to do the right thing. We’ll not leave it to chance anymore.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sara struggled to make sense of his words, feeling like she was missing half of the conversation.

  “Of course not. I’ve given my whole life to this family and now it’s finally time you reciprocated.”

  Sara gasped at that. He wanted her to give up her life?

  “Oh no, my Lady, I can see you think we mean to hurt you. That’s not it at all, in fact, nothing could be further from the truth,” he patted her knee in what was meant to be a comforting gesture. “We need you to produce the next heir after we sacrifice the boy. Only then can the line continue and will the Nine prosper.”

  The Nine… they wanted to sacrifice Jack? It was insane, and Sara fought a wave of nausea as she shook her head. “You can’t…”

  “I beg to differ, we can and we will. We’ve been doing it for generations, ever since Sir Archibald Darling first made the blood oath. Our families are linked with yours, like it or not, and our fortunes are tied to yours. Every head of the Darling family knew this, and each was willing to sacrifice their first born to the cause. All except for that toff Sir Stephen who couldn’t even manage a by-blow. Turned his back on us when Lowesley confronted him about it. Well, as soon as we found you, we made him regret it.”

  Lowesley knew about it? “What did you do to Sir Stephen?”

  “Officially ruled as an accident, though the local story is it was the ghost that did him in. Thank you for removing that colossal pain in our collective arse, by the way. It’s become ever so much easier to maneuver things into place without dodging that blasted specter all the time.”

  “Gemma…”

  “Yes, you thought she was the enemy, didn’t you? She was useful in her own way, took the blame on many the occasion, like when we wanted to send that friend of yours packing. A little push and she was on her way, cursing the dead the whole time,” he chuckled. “No chance the authorities would ever believe a story like that, and what could they do at any rate?”

  “You pushed Joanie?” Sara felt like the world was spinning out of control, her brain still not tracking everything said right away. “But why?”

  “I was happy to send that slag packing, her and that scavenger that came sniffing around.

  “You killed Cole.” Oh, poor Gemma, what had she done!

  “I couldn’t very well have him turning this place into a luxury resort, now could I? Darling Park belongs to the Nine just as much as it does to you; we’ll protect it down to the last stone.”

  Sara licked her lips, desperately searching for the right words to get through to him. “You can have it, all of it; just let Jack and me go.”

  “Don’t be daft, woman. Darling Park is in your blood, and your blood is required to keep it going strong. Now then, would you like a nice cuppa tea before we go?” Thomas asked, as if they’d been talking about the weather. Sara stared at him, at a loss for words, feeling like she’d slipped into a surreal nightmare.

  “Is she alright?” Will entered through the bathroom, eyes only for Sara.

  “Will!” Her heart surged with hope at seeing the concern on his face, only to fall when she heard Thomas address him as a co-con
spirator.

  “You’ll have to bring her along; it’ll be a fair walk until we get there.”

  “No, no, no…” It wasn’t possible! How could she have been so wrong about so many things? “Will?” she tried again, desperate for him to give her some sign that he was on her side. Instead he turned away, eyes narrowing as he regarded Thomas.

  “You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

  “You’ll see soon enough. Bring her downstairs, we’ll be leaving soon.”

  “Where are we going?” Sara asked, a fresh wave of panic sweeping through her at the news that they’d be off soon.”

  “To your destiny, my Lady,” Thomas smiled politely, executing a half bow before he took his leave.

  “Are you alright, Sara?” Will asked the moment they were alone, sweeping her into his arms.

  “No,” she murmured weakly. It was a world of no, but she couldn’t make herself form the words. Not knowing whether to lean on his strength or try to shove him away, weakness won out and Sara clung to him for support. The world spun away as he picked her up, and she had only a distorted sense of being carried down the hall. Resting her head against his chest, she took familiar comfort there. Again, a tiny corner of her mind registered that she should mind being taken somewhere in her present state, but she was too contented in Will’s arms to protest.

  Vaguely she was aware of being taken outside into the night air, Will’s steady pace and the beat of his heart sending her into a drowsing state until she heard his voice, low and urgent by her ear.

  “We’re nearly there, Sara,” he gave her a little shake and she moaned at being pulled from the hazy state that was so much easier to deal with than reality. Deep in the woods, she was able to see the stars bright in the sky between the canopy of treetops, but there was no moon to light the way. “Here, hold tight to this.” Sara felt something small and hard pressed into her hand, and brought it up to her eyes to make out what it was, only to have Will push her hand down again. “Don’t let anyone see you have it.”

  “What is it?” she breathed, able to tell by touch that it was some kind of necklace with a hard pendant.

  “Our only hope.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The glow of the bonfire pierced the night, bathing the clearing in a flickering light and casting the ancient stones in a riot of angry oranges and yellows. Sara recognized the place straight away, despite the haze that clung to her thoughts. Several figures in dark, hooded robes stood around the clearing, each near one of the standing stones. Thomas and Marwick were the only ones she could identify; their hoods pulled back as they fussed over a brazier of hot coals, arguing over something to do with herbs.

  “Ah here we are, now we can begin,” Thomas said brightly, clapping his hands together. “Everyone take your places.”

  “I’ll fetch the boy,” Marwick offered, and Sara sucked in a breath.

  “Jack…” she breathed, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. Will held tight to her, cradling her body to his as if he wanted to shield her from what was enfolding before them but Thomas had other ideas.

  “Bring her over here, she must stand by this stone,” he pointed to the largest at the head of the circle. “Don’t you even think about nicking off, Will here is ready to do anything it takes to make sure this goes off without a hitch, aren’t you lad?” Thomas winked.

  “I am,” Will replied stone faced, and Sara’s heart sank as he set her down, the forest floor cold against her bare feet.

  “I trusted you,” Sara hissed, but Will wasn’t looking at her, his eyes were focused on the patch of woods Marwick had disappeared through. Briefly, she considered running away, but how far would she get before Will chased her down? In her weakened state, Thomas could probably outrun her. Besides, they had Jack, and she couldn’t leave without figuring out a way to keep him safe.

  Her hand began to ache and Sara realized she was clutching the pendant so tightly; it left a mark against her palm. Opening her hand slightly, the light from the bonfire revealed the bloodstone pendant Mirella had used to bind Gemma in the ritual and she frowned at the little trinket. Why had Will bothered to retrieve it? Or had he never buried it in the first place?

  Ah Gemma, I’m so sorry, she thought to herself, clutching the stone tightly.

  Can you hear me? The voice sounded in her head, Gemma’s voice.

  Sara turned around, but there was no sign of the ghost and no one gave any indication they’d heard anything. “Gemma?” she whispered as loud as she dared.

  Shh, you needn’t speak aloud, I can hear your thoughts.

  Where are you?

  There isn’t time, you have to release me so I can set Jack free.

  “How?” Sara asked aloud, unable to keep the conversation all in her head with the drugs fogging her mind. Will glanced at her briefly, before turning back to keep watch on the woods; the others paid her no mind.

  You must break the pendant quickly; it’s the only way to break the binding spell.

  If I set you free you’ll help Jack? For a moment Sara wondered if it was a trick, but what choice did she have?

  I give you my word, set me free and he shall not die tonight.

  What do I do?

  Snap the stone in half and I’ll be released.

  It sounded simple enough, but in her weakened state, Sara didn’t have the strength to break the little pendant. “I can’t,” she breathed, shooting Will a fearful look to see if he’d heard her. Could she trust him? He’d been the one to give her the pendant in the first place. I can’t do it. Can I give it to Will?

  No, it must be by your own hand.

  Sara tried for all she was worth, pushing as hard as she could to get it to snap in half. The silver wire wrapping the bloodstone dug into her hand, but the bloodstone did not give way. Her face contorted with the effort, but her flesh was the first to give as the wire cut into her hand, the pendant growing slippery in her fingers with her own blood.

  All at once Sara felt a rush of power go through her, infusing every last cell of her being with tingling energy. With a gasp, she drew in a deep breath, feeling stronger and less groggy… alive in a way she’d never felt before.

  I am flesh again, Gemma’s voice reverberated in her mind, stronger than before and Sara came to realize that Gemma was inside her. Do not let on, we must bide our time, seize the opportune moment, she advised, and Sara gave a faint nod.

  The figures around the circle took their places by some unspoken signal, chanting in a language as ancient as the stones surrounding them. With a flourish, Thomas tossed a handful of herbs onto the burning coals, sending up a cloud of acrid smoke that burned Sara’s lungs.

  Out of the darkness loomed Marwick, his hood pulled high as he took his place in the circle, taking up the chant. In his wake, Mrs. Poole appeared with Jack, still and lifeless in her grasp and Sara took a half step, ready to charge forward to tear her son out of her arms. She didn’t get any farther as Gemma locked hold of her limbs, holding her fast in place. “Let me go,” Sara bit out, but Gemma’s hold was absolute, rendering her a prisoner in her own body.

  “Easy now,” Will cautioned in a low voice, thinking she was talking to him.

  Now is not yet the time to act, Gemma chimed in, and Sara felt a pulse of soothing energy wash over her.

  Thomas took the boy from his wife’s arms, and Mrs. Poole immediately backed off, stepping outside the circle of stones as if it was the last place on Earth she wanted to be. Jack looked deathly pale as he was tied to the stone altar, and Sara’s heart nearly stopped as she thought for a fleeting second he might already be dead. The slight rise and fall of his thin chest sent a wave of relief through her, but her reprieve was short lived.

  “Take up the dagger,” Thomas commanded, standing back and waving Sara forward. On the stone beside Jack lay an ancient double sided dagger, the hilt wrapped in braided silver wire.

  “You’re crazy,” Sara scoffed, though in the next instant, she figured it
might not be a bad idea to be armed. If they were stupid enough to give her a weapon, she’d be one step closer to grabbing Jack and fighting her way out of there. Gemma seemed to have released her hold, but offered no advice, remaining silent. Picking up the dagger, she hefted it experimentally, eyes on Thomas as she calculated the best escape route.

  Thomas seemed oblivious to her intent, his eyes glowing in anticipation. “Now, plunge it into his heart!”

  “You’re out of your fucking mind,” she laughed nervously. Did they really think she’d do something like that to her own child? Feeling stronger with the knife in her hand, Sara brandished it as threateningly as she could manage. “Get away from me and my son and no one will get hurt.”

  Thomas blinked, as if realizing for the first time Sara wasn’t as biddable as Marwick promised. “Kill him now.” The rest of those gathered grew restless, shifting their stance; the chanting faltered. “Do as I say!” he thundered and the chanting grew in volume.

  The wind picked up, whipping through Sara’s hair. “That’s not going to happen!” she shouted back.

  “You are of the Nine; you must make the sacrifice or you risk a lifetime of ill favor and torment,” Thomas countered, taking a step towards her.

  She was one of the Nine? “No, I’m not,” Sara shook her head, backing away as he advanced on her.

  “Of course you are. It’s in your blood as it has been for generations. You were born for this purpose, to restore success to the Nine.”

  “I’m not like you; I could never hurt a child, let alone my own son. I don’t care what stupid superstition you believe.”

  “You’ll do it right enough; if I have to hold the knife in your hand myself,” Thomas growled, but Will stepped up, easily catching the wrist that held the dagger.

  “I’ll do it,” Will offered, keeping his body between Sara and Thomas.

  “Will please… please don’t do this,” Sara begged, twisting her hand, but unable to dislodge his grasp. Gemma? I need you. I need your strength, she pleaded, preparing to fight down to her dying breath to keep him from hurting Jack, but Gemma’s voice floated back to her, serene.