Chapter Seven
The street lights shone weakly through the gap in the curtains, casting lines of light on the ceiling. I lay on the bed, hands on my chest. Next to me, Neve was making soft goose-like snores. I took a deep shaky breath. Now was as good a chance as any.
I slid from the bed and pulled on my jeans and hoodie as quietly as I could. The floorboard creaked and I tensed for a second as Neve’s snores faltered. Keeping myself perfectly still, I waited for her breathing to even out again. Gathering up my messenger bag, I gave one last look to make sure I wasn’t taking anything with me that I shouldn’t - it wasn’t like I’d be able to return it at a later date - and slipped out the door, closing it carefully behind me.
The only light on the landing came from a small window by the stairs and the sounds of fellow patrons sleeping off a booze-fuelled night drifted from behind the closed doors. I had always had good night vision and stood waiting for it to kick in, listening for any rogue sounds, but even so I jumped when a voice softly said, ‘Hey.’
I bit back a squeak and span round. On the other side of the hall in the thickest shadows, I could just make out a figure sitting against the wall, slumped like he’d been sitting for a long time. ‘Oriel?’ I whispered.
‘Please don’t go,’ he whispered back. Oriel didn’t strike me as the kind of boy who often had to plead with people, but there was a sharp urgency in his voice that made me stop in my tracks.
I glanced down at my jeans and messenger bag, wondering if it was possible to convince him I was just going to the toilet. I lowered myself onto the hallway floor opposite him. ‘I can’t stay. I’m sorry. It’s all too weird.’
He sighed. ‘I realise this has been a fairly bizarre day for you-’
‘An understatement if ever I heard one.’
‘-but the truth is we wouldn’t have brought you here if we weren’t desperate for your help. And we are so desperate. Seriously Roanne, if we don’t have you on this mission then we’re completely fucked.’
‘How? The four of you are soldiers with superpowers. What possible difference could I make?’
Oriel took a deep breath and let it out in the kind of sighing groan people do when there’s something they need to tell you that’s going to make the current situation more complicated or difficult. ‘Earlier on, when you came through the portal, I started explaining about the Sanctuary and the Jeopardy and about Owen being kidnapped. I had this whole speech planned, but then Neve started getting all out of her tree about you not having done any archery for two years and we had to go off to the shooting range so the rest of my speech kind of got a bit lost.
‘So anyway, there was something we didn’t get a chance to tell you. It’s about the man who is holding Owen. His name is Baeroth. He’s an incredibly powerful Psion and until nine years ago he was the king of Gileath. He’s also my and Neve’s uncle. Our father’s older brother.’ Oriel paused for a moment to allow this new and interesting development to sink in.
‘We have an elective monarchy here; the new king or queen is voted in after the death of the old monarch and they rule alongside the Senate. Technically, anyone can be voted in as king, but in reality it tends to run in families. My grandfather was king and after he died, Baeroth was elected.
‘Baeroth had been king for three days before he passed his first act as monarch. It was to dissolve the Senate and declare himself sole ruler.
‘As you can imagine, people were, you know, surprised. Obviously his actions didn’t bode well, but the first few of years of his rule were quiet and people started to relax. It probably sounds strange, but you’ve got to understand: when you spend every day living with the threat of demon attacks, you tend to be a lot less bothered about politics.
‘But then the disappearances started. At first it was political dissenters, people who spoke out openly and loudly against Baeroth and his circle of followers, people who thought the Senate should be reinstated. Before long it was anyone whose face no longer fitted in Baeroth’s new regime.
‘Baeroth moved his court from the Citadel to a town called Thornsvale, on the edge of the moors. He restricted movement in and out of Thornsvale and for a long time no one heard anything from the town’s inhabitants, but then gradually rumours emerged. Blessed families were being rounded up and taken from their homes. There were stories of experiments on Blessed children, testing their abilities, finding out what they were capable of under duress. And there were experiments on the adults, too. Breeding experiments.’
I made a face in the dark. ‘Gross.’
‘Yeah, gross. And creepy, and sinister, and terrifying. And then, one morning a distress call came into the Protectorate headquarters in the Citadel from one of the villages near Thornsvale. Thinking it was a demon incursion, a squadron of paladins set out for the village, but when they got there...
‘Acting on Baeroth’s orders, the army had evicted all the town’s civilians from their homes and moved them outside the town walls. Twenty thousand unblessed, unarmed people beyond the safety of the demon nets. Some made it to nearby settlements, but most of them...’ He trailed off. ‘Overnight there was a huge demon incursion, and the majority of them were killed.
‘It’s hard to explain to someone who’s not from the Jeopardy what his actions meant.’ Oriel stopped for a moment and frowned. ‘Actually, it’s not hard at all. He murdered them. Twenty thousand civilians kicked out of their homes, and by the following morning no more than a thousand were still alive. Nineteen thousand people massacred, torn apart by demons that ate their flesh and consumed their souls.
‘The Protectorate isn’t a political organisation, we’re supposed to stay completely neutral when it comes to the Senate and the monarchy, but at the same time we are supposed to, you know, protect people.
‘As king, Baeroth had the Gileathean army and the Guards under his control and they’d been very effective in keeping any rebellious elements squashed down. When the disappearances first started, the Protectorate started to rally the underground rebels; by the time of the evacuations, their numbers had swelled to form an army.
‘The Protectorate’s involvement escalated the rebellion into civil war. The war lasted for about six months and it devastated our country. There’s still debate as to whether the Protectorate did the right thing by fighting against Baeroth.’
‘What else could they have done?’ My voice rose with indignation.
Oriel’s teeth flashed in the dim light as he grinned. ‘That’s what I’ve always said.’
‘So what happened then?’
‘With an experienced army like the Protectorate on their side, the rebels had the advantage. They pressed the attack and drove Baeroth’s army back to Thornsvale. Baeroth and his inner circle of followers retreated to the castle, leaving their army to fend for itself.
‘I said before that Baeroth was - is - a powerful Psion. His Blessings include the ability to control people’s actions and if you get too close to him he can read your thoughts. This made him nearly impossible to kill, so the rebels held the castle under siege while a group of Psions created a fold in the fabric of our reality, a kind of pocket dimension around Thornsvale Castle, sealing it and all its inhabitants inside. Baeroth and his allies are trapped there now, in a dimensional jail.
‘All along, the rebels championed my father as the rightful king. He was crowned the day after Baeroth was sealed into his jail. My family upped sticks from our farm and moved to the Citadel.’
I stared at him. ‘Wow.’
He shrugged. ‘It was nine years ago; Neve and I were eight. We’ve lived at the Citadel longer than we lived at Rivermead.
‘So skip forward to the present day: three weeks ago, my parents left on a three-month overseas diplomatic tour with our sister, Seren. Five days ago, Owen was taken. He was put to bed in my parents’ apartment in the Citadel, and when his nanny went to get him up the next morning, he was gone. There was a note left by his crib; folded and sealed in wax with the coat of
arms that used to be used by Baeroth’s followers. It said Thornsvale Castle.
‘Scholars at the university have been through Baeroth’s papers, all the notes from his experiments. Shortly before the war, it seems he was devising a ritual involving babies from Blessed parents, using blood taken from them on their first birthday to attempt to create portals. Owen’s first birthday is in just over a month’s time.’
‘He’s going to use Owen to escape,’ I breathed, and Oriel nodded.
‘We’ve managed to keep Owen’s disappearance quiet so far and we have to keep it that way. There are still plenty of people out there who think that Baeroth is the rightful king and would use an opportunity like this to bring down my father’s rule and have Baeroth released.’
I let my head fall back against the wall, and then quickly pulled it forward worried that it might wake Neve. ‘Oriel, why me? The king’s baby son has been kidnapped; you must have your pick of soldiers from the Protectorate, all of them itching to help get him back. Why go to all the trouble of bringing me here?’
‘Don’t sell yourself short. You’re an amazing archer.’
‘Be serious.’
‘I am being serious.’ I started to interrupt him, to tell him how ridiculous he was being, but he stalled me. ‘Look, we need the best on this mission. The absolute best. And yes, that involves talent, but it’s also about motivation. The thought of going home to our mother and father and having to say, ‘Yeah, Owen was kidnapped and we couldn’t get hold of you, so we decided to go after him ourselves, but we failed’ is just... No way.’
I sat, trying very hard to harden my heart, telling myself that this wasn’t my problem; they’d manage far better without me. ‘Roanne, he’s a tiny child.’ Oriel said softly. ‘He’s all alone with people who are going to harm him. He must be terrified.’
‘That’s emotional blackmail,’ I accused.
‘I know. I’m sorry.’ He rubbed his face and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Listen, I’m tired like you wouldn’t believe. If I slope off to bed now, can I hope that you’ll still be here in the morning?’
I thought about all the people who would be better at rescuing a kidnapped child than me: Bruce Willis in Die Hard, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Sigourney Weaver in the Alien films, Xena Warrior Princess, Liam Neeson in practically any film he’d ever been in.
And then I thought about the security photos the CPS had, about going to a youth detention centre, about the wary, disappointed looks my parents had been giving me. Oriel had offered me a way out, and no, he hadn’t overburdened me with facts, but he hadn’t exactly lied either. I tried to imagine my reaction if he’d shown up on my doorstep claiming to be a superpower-boosted warrior of the gods on a mission from an alternate reality.
My night vision had kicked in long ago rendering the dim hallway as easily navigable as daylight, if I wanted to make a run for it. Not that I thought I would need to run. Something told me that if I got up and walked away, Oriel would let me go.
I looked at the staircase that led down to the storage room. And then I looked back at Oriel.
I nodded. ‘Yeah.’ I pretended not to hear his muffled breath of relief.
‘Listen, I’ve got something for you.’ He picked something up from the floor next to him and handed it over, handle-first. ‘I wanted to give it to you earlier, but there wasn’t a chance.’
I took it and held it up to see it better. It was a stiletto dagger. The blade was long and thin, decorated with whorls and curlicues and the guard was set with blue stones. I admired it in the half-light. ‘It’s beautiful,’ I breathed.
‘Functional, too,’ he said. ‘Enough force behind it and it’ll pierce any demon’s hide.’
The dagger was wicked sharp and didn’t have a sheath. I felt around in my jacket looking for somewhere safe to put it where I wouldn’t accidentally stab myself. ‘I don’t really know where to-’
‘You have a slot in your boot. Here, let me.’ He took the knife and leaned over my ankle to slide the knife into its compartment while my brain screamed, Newsflash: An attractive boy is touching my leg! ‘Don’t get me wrong, you’re going to be completely safe, but you know. Knives are always handy to have around.’ I frowned. People were spending a suspicious amount of time reassuring me how safe I’d be on this trip.
We sat in silence as while I mentally reconciled myself to being stuck in this bizarre world with weapons strapped all over me for the time being. ‘Can I ask you something?’ I said after a while.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Anything.’
‘Are you famous?’
‘Am I-’ He gave a muffled laugh. ‘Well, my father’s the king, so I suppose...yeah, I suppose a lot of people know who I am. Why do you ask?’
‘You look familiar. I just didn’t know if I’d seen you on the telly or something. Where have I seen you before?’
He paused and I could have sworn he was holding his breath. ‘I’m not famous in the Sanctuary, if that’s what you’re asking,’ he said casually. ‘People, animals, things from the Sanctuary can cross over into the Jeopardy and back again, if they manage to find a portal. But no living thing from the Jeopardy can cross over. Ever. It’s part of the ritual the Three performed to keep the Sanctuary safe.’
Damn. That had been my last, admittedly slim, hope of working out where I knew him from. I refused to become a walking cliché and use the phrase, ‘Don’t I know you from somewhere?’
‘Weird. Maybe you’ve got a doppelganger or something.’
‘Yeah, maybe. Is there anything else you wanted to know?’
‘No.’ Not for the time being, anyway.
‘Fantastic. See you in the morning then.’ And, springing to his feet, he sauntered off up the hallway, leaving me feeling like he had neatly sidestepped all my questions.
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