More figures emerged from the hole and Nicholas realised that Aileen had done what Sam had asked; she had gathered together as many local Sentinels as she could. Silently, Nicholas thanked her.
Liberty nudged the manhole closed with a dull THUNK.
“Let’s get you back to Aileen’s,” she said.
*
It didn’t take long to reach the safehouse. The seven newcomers surrounded Nicholas and Sam the whole way back, some going ahead to check the way was clear, others hanging behind to ensure nobody followed them. Nicholas found it fascinating watching the Sentinels in action. It took his mind off what he’d learned in Laurent’s hellish warren.
Isabel was a comfort; something Nicholas had never thought possible. She perched on his shoulder, her tail hugging his neck, and for a brief moment it felt like the world wasn’t about to end.
When they reached Aileen’s, the landlady showed them all into the living room and brought warm cloths so they could clean themselves up. She didn’t say anything about the dog, though Nicholas glimpsed a grumbling tabby blur as Rudy darted toward the kitchen.
Isabel hopped onto the windowsill as Nicholas mopped at his face. The cloth came away stained red with Esmerelda’s blood.
The thought of her lying next to him on the ground made his insides convulse.
My parents, he thought.
He shoved that thought away as well, attempted to crumple it in his mind as if it were a bit of paper.
“What happened to you?” he asked the cat. “How did you end up down there?” Like everybody else, Isabel looked like she’d been sleeping rough for the past few days. Her fur was matted in places and she was scrawnier than usual. Her eyes remained sharp as ever, though.
“I was consigned to that wretched warren,” the cat replied.
“You’re not hurt, though?”
“I am well enough. But look at you.” She scrutinised his cast. “You can’t be trusted on your own, can you?”
“It’s good to have you back,” he said softly.
Sam sat on the other side of the room. He looked exhausted. Even the subdued lamp light couldn’t hide his drawn expression, nor the way his limbs seemed to weigh him down. He reclined in the chair and Nicholas noticed Liberty shoot him a worried look.
The other Sentinels stood about wiping the grit and blood from their faces and hands. Two women and four men, counting the giant who had helped him and Sam.
“That’s what I call action,” one of them joked. He was skinny, about the same age as Nicholas, and had floppy blond hair. Nicholas noticed a tattoo of a winged devil on his arm.
“Merlyn,” Sam sighed.
Funny name, Nicholas thought.
“Sorry we got to the party so late,” Merlyn said, winking at Nicholas. His grin was warm and lopsided. Nicholas couldn’t help liking him. “Liberty here wanted to wait.”
Liberty merely looked at the youngster.
“It’s difficult to sense anything from above ground,” she said, putting her cloth on the tray Aileen had left on the coffee table.
“Sense schmense,” Merlyn shot back. “We almost didn’t make it in time.”
“I’m very grateful for your assistance,” Sam said. His voice scratched tiredly and it silenced everybody in the room. “I hadn’t anticipated quite so many. Nor so well-armed.” He contemplated the fedora resting on his knee.
Nicholas was sure Sam was avoiding his gaze on purpose.
“I suppose introductions would be a good idea,” Liberty said. She went round the room one by one. “Ginger, Frank, Steph,” she said of the three people by the fireplace. “They’re all Waddells. Bury born and bred. Obviously you know Merlyn. And that’s Harry,” she said of a dark-skinned man in his forties who had an earring. Finally she looked at the tall man who had rescued them in the cavern. “And this is Nale,” she said. “Benjamin Nale. The mutt’s Zeus.”
Nale merely nodded at them and then began inspecting the dog for injuries. It was almost as big as he was – a shaggy grey titan. Zeus was the perfect name.
“My head’s pounding, too.” Merlyn grinned at Nicholas, his cheeks glowing rosily. Nicholas realised he was staring and glanced at Sam. The old man looked how Nicholas felt. Numb. As if he was underwater. He couldn’t process what Laurent had said in the cavern. He didn’t want to process it; not if it was true.
Finally, Sam told the other Sentinels their story. It was nothing new to Nicholas; he’d lived it. His ears perked up, though, when Sam started talking about somebody called Thomas Gray. The man who invented the gauntlet.
“We believe that Laurent isn’t working alone; he has Malika with him,” Sam finished. “Diltraa’s Familiar. And his plan to raise the Prophets appears to be predicated on the young girl he currently has in his company.”
“Rae,” Nicholas said, though he hadn’t meant to speak.
Everybody looked at him. He shivered, recalling the way the Harvesters’ eyes had swivelled at him in the tunnels, but no hatred was being directed at him this time.
“This is Nicholas Hallow,” Sam said, still not looking at him.
Not my parents.
Who were the people who had raised him if they weren’t his parents?
His stomach rolled unpleasantly and Nicholas swallowed, refusing to give in to it. He forced himself to look at the other Sentinels. They gazed back with varying degrees of pity, sadness and understanding. They must have known his parents, or at least that Sentinels by the name of Hallow had died in a train crash. They were probably unaware that Jessica and Esus considered him special. All they saw was a young, battle-tired Sentinel whose parents had been taken too soon.
The only one who looked at him differently was Liberty. Her large, dark eyes locked with his for a moment and the hairs on his arms tingled. She’d said that people transmitted thoughts and feeling all the time. Nicholas dreaded to think what he was transmitting. He attempted to build a wall around himself as she’d suggested.
“This girl, what does she have to do with it all?” Liberty asked Sam.
“She’s powerful,” the old man replied. “That’s all we know.”
“Oblituss.”
A quiet voice came from the door. Dawn had appeared. She kept her timid gaze levelled on Nicholas, as if afraid to look at anybody else.
“Dawn?” he said.
“I’ve, uh, been looking into the tunnels,” she murmured softly. “This word keeps coming up. Oblituss... But I can’t find what it means.”
“Anybody?” Sam asked. He put a hand to his forehead tiredly. Nicholas felt sorry for him. No, not sorry. Angry. He was angry at him. Angry for keeping more secrets. Nicholas wrestled with his insides. Everything Sam had ever done was to protect him. Sam only wanted to preserve Nicholas’s memories of his parents. To keep him from the pain and confusion he was currently feeling. For the first time, Nicholas realised that some secrets are too awful to reveal. It was Laurent he hated. Laurent who deserved his anger.
“Oblituss,” Nicholas murmured to himself. He’d never heard the word before.
Across the lounge, Liberty stiffened. She became very still and she didn’t blink for a long time. Nicholas began to worry, but then Liberty’s eyelids fluttered and her muscles relaxed.
“Laurent intends to open the oblituss,” she said firmly.
“Which is?” Sam asked, apparently as lost as everybody else.
“I see a door,” Liberty said. “It’s old, guarded. It’s locked, but Laurent knows how to open it.”
“You know the door, you’ve seen it.”
A shiver rippled down Nicholas’s spine. Liberty’s voice was in his head again.
“Yes,” he thought, recalling the ancient doorway that the Harvesters had guarded. “It’s in the tunnels.”
A flicker of a smile toyed with Liberty’s lips and then she addressed the other Sentinels.
“It’s in the tunnels,” she said. “We need to stop him opening it.”
“Man, I wish I could do what you do,
” Merlyn said to Liberty, tapping his temple. “I’d make so much deniro.”
That thought had never occurred to Nicholas. He wondered how many lottery winners were secretly psychic.
“What’s in the oblituss?” asked Harry, the dark-skinned man who hadn’t spoken yet.
“All I’m getting is white noise,” Liberty said with a shake of her head.
“Chances of it containing frisky kittens are pretty low, though, huh?” Merlyn said.
“It’s high time this young man got his rest,” Aileen said, bustling into the living room. She patted Nicholas’s shoulder and smiled. “There are rooms for anybody who needs them. I know the Waddells and Merlyn are local, but you’re all welcome to stay.”
Though he was exhausted, the thought of going to bed made Nicholas fidgety. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. He knew he wouldn’t get any sleep; he’d just doze restlessly until the sun came up. Which was – he checked the clock on the mantelpiece – in about four hours anyway.
“Time’s running out,” Liberty said sombrely. “We’ve all heard about what’s going on in the rest of the country. It’s spreading to Europe.”
“What’s spreading?” Nicholas asked.
“Chaos,” Merlyn said. “Cows giving birth to demons, snakes raining from the sky... The Dark Prophets are reaching up from whatever hellpit they’re in, and the world’s starting to, well... Ever heard the song ‘Highway to Hell?’”
Nicholas’s gut trembled.
“We’re all tired,” Liberty said to the room. “We need rest. We’ll meet again in the morning.”
Heads bobbed cheerlessly in agreement and the Sentinels began moving toward the hall. The Waddells and Harry decided not to stay.
“Nice meeting you, Nick,” Merlyn said, shaking his hand enthusiastically. His grip was warm and strong. Nicholas frowned, noticing a strange bite mark on the boy’s neck. He realised it was a tattoo.
“See you on the battlefield,” the other boy added. His gaze lingered and then he left with the others. An odd lonely sensation wormed through Nicholas. He’d felt a burgeoning kinship with the other Sentinel. They were the same age, but Merlyn had apparently been raised fully aware of the Sentinel life. Nicholas wanted to know more about his experiences fighting demons.
Nale took Zeus out to check the area, leaving only Sam, Isabel and Liberty. Nicholas stayed where he was, resistant to the thought of bed.
“Get some rest,” Liberty told Sam. “There’s a lot to catch up on in the morning.”
“Meet me in the garden.”
Liberty’s voice echoed in Nicholas’s head and he welcomed a distraction from sleep.
“I’m going to get some air,” he said to Isabel. Before she could reply, he went into the kitchen and opened the back door. The sky was already hovering somewhere between night and day. It became a deep, inky blue and the stars twinkled a bright farewell.
He settled into a pristine garden chair flush against an ivy-smothered wall. What did Liberty want with him? Was she worried about Sam? The way she had looked at him with those marble-like eyes made him nervous. It was as if she could see right into him.
Nicholas became aware of another presence in the garden and spotted a fluffy shape lounging on the wall. Rudy. The cat looked grumpier than ever.
Finally, Liberty joined him. She handed him a steaming mug.
“Here. It’ll help you sleep.” At his hesitance, Liberty added: “Don’t make me force you like I had to force Sam.”
Nicholas peered into the mug. The contents were a deep purple and little green leaves floated on the surface. The steam that curled into his nostrils smelled delicious, though, and he sipped the drink. It tickled his throat pleasantly.
Liberty sat in the other chair. She drew her braids to one side, letting them hang over one shoulder so she could look at him.
“You’ve been through a lot, both of you,” she said. “And not just tonight.” She observed his arm in its sling. “Sam should have waited for us before going down there.”
“We were doing alright,” Nicholas murmured. His tongue felt fluffy. He contemplated his mug and wondered if it was to blame.
If you consider failing to find Rae alright. And then basically letting Laurent do whatever he wants.
“Nobody’s saying any different,” Liberty said. “There comes a time, though, when it’s okay to call for help. Speaking of, here.” She handed him something else. Nicholas took it with the hand poking out of the sling. It was his Drujblade.
“How did you..?” he asked.
“Found it on the way into Laurent’s tea party,” Liberty explained.
“Thanks. I must’ve dropped it.”
He clutched the dagger, relieved. He’d grown attached to it.
“So much responsibility at such a young age,” Liberty mused. He met her gaze and wondered for the second time since meeting her just how much she knew. “The Trinity,” she continued kindly. “You’ve been told about your part in all of this, right?”
He nodded slowly.
“Must feel like you’re balancing a dump truck on your shoulders.”
That’s exactly what it felt like. “Esus says it’s up to me,” Nicholas said. “I’m the one who has to figure out how to bring them back.”
“And then you discover the truth about your parents,” Liberty breathed. “Nobody ever said life was fair. You blame Sam. That’s okay. People are complicated; sometimes they don’t know what drives them. They’re urged on by some caveman instinct. Sam, all he’s ever wanted is to protect you. I think you know that.”
Nicholas didn’t know what to say. He should be feeling something. Some kind of heartache, maybe. A different ache to the one he’d endured since his parents died. But he was numb.
“Keep drinking,” Liberty said.
He sipped more of the purple brew. The world grew hazy, as if somebody was puffing smoke into his eyes. He almost felt like he was hovering above the ground.
“Did you try the seeing glass again?” Liberty asked.
He nodded, his head heavy.
“What did it show you?”
“Load of stuff I couldn’t understand,” Nicholas grunted drowsily. “Triangles and the raven pendant. Some guy in a hat. Random rubbish.”
She touched his hand. It didn’t feel like it belonged to him anymore. She could be touching somebody else’s hand.
“You have to trust what you saw,” Liberty urged him gently. “Embrace that power. Somewhere in there is the key to all of this.”
Nicholas didn’t care. “Sam’s wife,” he murmured despondently. “His family... You have family?”
“I have a daughter. She’s six. And my mother and my brothers.”
“Where are they now?”
“In Cambridge.”
“You’re from Cambridge?”
“You and this girl, Rae, you’re connected,” Liberty continued, steering the conversation back to things he didn’t want to talk about. Her voice began to sound distant, as if it was coming through a radio, and he had to focus to make out what she was saying.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “We’re going to destroy the world together.”
“Hardly. But it’s important that we find her, and soon. Laurent’s plans won’t wait, and it seems she’s integral to them.”
“I tried… I can’t…”
“We’ll try again. I’ll help you.”
“She’s so angry, she won’t let you.”
“She’s hurting, too.” Liberty’s voice was an echo.
“I think we’re all going to die…”
Drowsiness overcame him and Nicholas drifted into the petrol blue sky. The stars flashed around him and then there was nothing.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The key
RAE LEANED IN TO THE WALL and studied the sky. There was no wind. Peculiar shapes darted through the air, gibbering inhumanly as the morning sun blazed. They were bat-like but almost man-sized and their shrieks tore at the sky.
&nb
sp; Rae stifled a yawn. Her limbs were heavy and tired after a long night of training with Laurent. He’d forced her to engage her power again and again, until she could shatter things on command.
It was exhilarating. Laurent had taught her how to catch the power in her fists, stop it from scorching destructively through her. It was so easy she couldn’t believe she’d never figured it out for herself. All she had to do was breathe and focus; not let her feelings get the better of her.
She felt strong already. She’d wanted to keep training through the night, but Laurent urged her to rest. Four hours of snatched sleep later, he roused her again. It was morning and he had a task for her. Something that would require her to combine her skills as a runaway with those she’d spent all night honing.
“There’s something we need,” he’d said. “After our visitors last night, I’ve had to step up my plans. This will help us in the fight against the monsters. Once we’ve succeeded, we can continue your training.”
Rae ignored the wails above her and focussed on the flint-stone cottage across the patch of grass before her. It was just one in a craggy row that kneeled at the borders to the Abbey Gardens. They were the oldest homes in the town. Priests lived there once, but not anymore.
She had to break into one of them. That’s what Laurent had trusted her with. A tingle of unease buzzed through her. Was it too soon? Could she really break into somebody’s home and steal something? She’d thought her days of stealing were behind her.
Rae approached one of the cottages and listened at the door. It was quiet inside. She’d watched the residents, a couple in their fifties, leave twenty minutes ago. The cottage should be empty. Still, she’d move quickly.
Breathing evenly, Rae pressed her palms against the door and summoned the power as Laurent had taught her. It spiked queasily through her and the wood blistered immediately, warping under the heat that she poured into it. The wood blackened, as if rotting before her eyes, and when she shoved it, the door disengaged itself from the frame, wood splintering around the lock, which remained in place.
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