I Belong to the Earth (Unveiled Book 1)
Page 56
I loitered in the doorway of Amy's bedroom, reluctant to move forward. The air in there had a metallic scent, like heated copper. I found myself methodically picking up every crumpled newspaper cutting, without being able to explain why. I had an urge to destroy the evidence. As if by shoving these bits of paper in the parlour fire, it would undo the curse. Bring Amy back, breathless and laughing, shaking rain from her hair. The last piece of paper shook in my hand as I transferred it to the pile. Nothing. No clues at all.
I sank onto Amy's bed. Who would ever want to hurt Amy? Think. Be logical. When did it start? Amy was herself right up until…Until Wednesday last week, when she stopped going to school. She was forgetting things but she wasn't involved in the Pattern until then. My head throbbed. I closed my eyes, rubbing my forehead with my left hand.
An image bloomed in my mind. Crackling energy striking out from a figure on a bed. A light bulb imploding, melting into a lamp socket. A window slamming itself shut. And a high wail of despair growing distant.
Go! Go away and haunt someone else!
My own voice. Banishing the cold girl. I hadn't seen my visitor since that night. What if she had done what I said? No, what if she'd done what I commanded? Oh god that was it – I’d set her on Amy. My little sister, who just might be sensitive enough to see a Dead entity if it was strong enough.
I lurched into the bathroom before I'd really registered that I was about to throw up. I vomited loud and long, then lay with my cheek pressed against the cold tiles of the bathroom floor.
My fault.
No more procrastinating. I had to go out onto the moor and search. In the dark. I'd been afraid of being out there in the dark, since we arrived. Deep down I'd known all along that I would have to do this. My sisters weren't coming back. Without me, they wouldn't be coming home at all.
Neither would I.
There would always be a part of me wandering on the moor looking for the sisters I had lost. Just like Mrs Cranford.
I had to go. Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself up off the bathroom floor. Scooping handfuls of water from the cold tap, I rinsed my mouth, dispelling the after-taste of vomit. Giving up, I held my mouth under the tap and chugged water down. So thirsty. Wiping my mouth, I glanced in the mirror. Froze. It wasn't my reflection.
Mirror, Mrs Cranford had said. Like a flash gun going off, I knew she’d been trying to warn me. Had she seen something in a mirror before she fell? There was a mirror at the top of the stairs in her cottage…
Broad cheekbones in a solid featured face. Mouse brown hair combed plainly under a white servant's cap. Eyes that would be pretty if they weren't so hard. Helen. She wasn't gone. She used the mirrors to watch, just as she used the stairs to listen. Instinct took over. I reached out my left hand and touched the mirror's surface. It rippled like water. Helen curled her lip at me. Her expression turned to dismay as I grabbed her and pulled her towards me. Then through me. We'd joined too many times. It was almost too easy. I shoved her into a corner of my mind, using that strange electrical charge to pen her in. She struggled but I held firm.
No you're coming with me. My sisters are in danger. I need you and this time you're not getting a choice.
Let me go! Are you mad? Thinking you can tackle Hardiman? I won't go!
You will. You'll go where ever I go. I softened slightly. Helen do you want to stay stuck here? Watching this useless Pattern unfold again and again? Do you want to be a witness forever?
What are you saying? She sounded wary - but then I had just pulled her out of a mirror.
I don't know exactly. But if you help me maybe I can help you. Help you move on.
To what? Do you really believe there's somewhere to move on to? Helen sneered.
Don't you? You're dead and you're still here. If you were going to cease to exist then you would have done it already. I felt like laughing. Not a good sign. Low on sleep and punch drunk. I had to get a grip. Did I have everything? Warm coat with loaded pockets. Small torch. Sturdy boots.
I had no idea where to look for Amy but I was sure Helen could find Kate. Which meant she could find Grace and Haze. Hopefully Amy would be with them. What I did when I got there was anyone's guess. I was winging it big time. But then things couldn't get much worse could they?
I reached the last step. The hall was in darkness. Hadn't I left the light on? I saw a chink of light under Dad's study door. Annoyed, I turned away. At least he was still alive in there.
A huge hand shot out of the darkness and swallowed my shoulder.
I shrieked in pain and fright as strong fingers bit into my flesh. A flash of white teeth bared in a snarl before I was shoved through the kitchen door.
"I told you to watch her, Helen."
Breathing hard and fast. Air whistled through my throat, shrunk to a pinhole. The huge figure had my face mashed against the kitchen window. There was nothing for me to see. Even through my pounding heart and sobbing breath, I knew the hand that was hard on my neck. Ciarán. Or not Ciarán. Clayton. Ciarán was gone. My stomach lurched as I remembered what happened next. Helen had gone back into her own memories.
"..told you to watch her." Clayton Lynfield says again, letting go of my neck.
I don't think him so handsome now. He is as much a beast as Robbie ever was.
"I did… I fell asleep. It were only for a moment. And Ada were there too! Miss Kate… I mean, Mrs Lynfield canna have got down here by herself. She were too weak…" My voice dries up. Something in his expression makes me feel cold inside. I'd run but I cannot make my legs stop shaking.
They carried Miss Kate past a minute since. Her body that is. She was wrapped in a sheet but her eyes were still open, staring at something the rest of us could not see. They found her face down on the edge of the Moor. One wasted hand reaching. As if she might grab what she wanted off the heath itself.
"And where is your kitchen maid? Ada is it? Where is she now?" Clayton's voice is mild. His expression is not.
"No one knows, sir." I've backed up as far as the great stone sink. There's nowhere left to run.
"I told you to watch her Helen!" His voice isn't human. He raises his fist. In the second before it comes down I realize that all men are beasts underneath, fancy trappings or no. All deserve caging like the animals they are…
Ciarán raised his fist. I could barely see him with the past laid on top, doubling my vision. Pale hair. Ice blue eyes, white face, livid, contorted with grief and rage.
"Kuh Ciarán no!" I started to one side so the blow glanced across my cheekbone, sending me crashing against the sink. I clung on grimly. The world faded in and out, grey and white. I had never felt the full force of a man's fist directed against me before. It was shocking. Bewildering. I literally didn't know where I was. It didn't even hurt at first. As if his fist had created a vacuum and it took a few seconds for pain to rush in and fill it. I tasted blood in my mouth. It blended with the thick metallic air. Then my cheekbone flared into white-hot agony. I stifled a dry sob, left hand raised in a loose cage of fingers over my cheek.
"Kuh Ciarán. Don't! It's m-me Em-Emlynn! P-please! I know you're in there. Fuh fight it!" I braced myself against the sink. No question of me moving again. The kitchen was see-sawing around me. Ciarán's fist whistled towards my nose. I screwed my eyes shut. Nothing. No extra pain. Had I been knocked out? I opened my eyes. Ciarán's fist trembled an inch from my face.
His eyes were darkening to hazel. The icy colour was bleeding away.
"Emlynn?" His winged brows contracted in confusion. He looked at his hands as if they belonged to someone else. For a moment they had. "Em… what... how…" He gazed at me in horror. "No…" He breathed. "NO!" He whirled toward the open back door.
"Ciarán! W-wait!"
"Can't. Fight it. Much. Longer…" With one last anguished glance at me, he disappeared into the night. I thought of the stricken expression on his face and wondered if he would ever forgive himself.
If we lived through this.
Ciarán or Amy? Ciarán or Grace?
Ciarán forgive me. Hold on till I get there.
I took two tottering steps and sank to the stone flags, the world tilted sideways and swam together.