“I’m here. I’m here,” he says, and feels for her hands. He clasps them in his.
“Nicholas,” she calls once more, and then her body collapses. I think she’s dead.
“No!” someone sobs, and that someone is me. My hands are on her face, on her shoulders, on her arms, and I shake her, I call her name. But she’s dead. She can’t hear us.
All of a sudden, there’s a slight movement under my hands. A breath.
“She’s breathing! She’s alive!” Nicholas says suddenly, taking hold of her wrist. “Her heart is beating!” He lifts Elodie onto his knees, her head lolling against his chest. They’re like the Tao, white and black, folded together.
“Elodie? Can you hear me?” I call.
She blinks a couple of times, and then she opens her eyes. Gone are their warm, chocolate brown. They’re black, like obsidian. I try to take her from Nicholas, but she moans, and holds on to him. She calls his name once again, and wraps her arms around his neck like she never wants to be apart from him, never again.
I know at once that we have lost her.
41
Together
I wish I didn’t have to
Drag you down with me
Follow me
Follow me down
Nicholas
I know I must close my mind before my father discovers that I don’t want Elodie to die – but it’s too late. As I cradle her in my arms, he knows. I feel the disapproval in his thoughts before he speaks.
Another one, Nicholas? I see that Martyna was easily forgotten, as was Sarah. Are we on to another love of your life?
My heart burns with rage. It’s not like that. I care for her.
And my father laughs, like it’s all really funny, to play with me like a cat with a mouse, to deliberately destroy everything I love.
Stop torturing her, Father. Please.
But I’m not. Like you said, it’s just a memory. It’s your memory. I couldn’t stop it, not even if I wanted to.
I’m doing what you said! Leave me alone!
Just having a bit of fun.
My rage spills over. I’ll kill her, the one you need. I’ll set her on fire, and your plans will go up in smoke with her. Is that what you want? The brain fury hits me at once, but I’m too angry to care or react. Keep doing this to me, and I won’t take her to you. You’re too weak now to come this far. It’ll be all over. We’ll all die.
And suddenly, after one last, piercing beam of pain right between my eyes, he’s gone. I seem to have won this one. Which means he’ll make me pay.
Right at that moment, Elodie quietens. The recollection is over. For a moment I fear she’s dead. She’s so still and so cold . . . but she’s breathing. Her heart is beating, her blood – mixed with mine – running beneath the soft skin of her wrist. She’s alive. Sean tries to take her away from me, but we hold on to each other. “Nicholas,” she calls.
“I’m here. I’m here.”
And then she speaks inside my mind, like only my father and mother could ever do, because we share the same blood. Nobody – not even Martyna – could do that.
I can hear your thoughts, she says. How can this be? She’s frightened. I can feel it. My head is a scary place to be.
You drank my blood. You’re part of me, I explain.
I feel . . . strange. Like I used to be. Like I’m strong again.
The Azasti is gone. You’re cured. A wave of happiness floods my thoughts – Elodie’s happiness – and I smile a little. But then, a cold bout of fear, like icy water in my veins, pierces me. She’s cured, but she’s one with me. And that means she shares my pain, my father’s torture. There’s no going back for her. She’ll never be the same again.
And now she’ll know of my plans. Will she give me away? Will she stop me?
I picture her, those lips I kissed, that body I held – even if when I did that Elodie was controlled by another woman – and I feel a rush of desire. I want to be alone with her. Right now. I want our bodies to fuse together again, like our thoughts. I shouldn’t feel this way, not with Martyna’s spirit still alive. But it’s not love, it’s something different.
Possession. The word flashes through my mind. My face is close to hers and I can feel her features, though I can’t see them. I want to kiss her more than ever. “We need to go,” I say instead, getting to my feet. I help Elodie up, and she sways for a moment and leans against me. It’s the other way round now. It used to be me leaning on her, in my blindness. I feel something wet on my face, trickling down my lips and chin. My nose must still be bleeding after Sean’s pounding. Before all this is over, I’ll twist his neck, I swear.
Elodie and I cling to each other. I can’t see, and she’s weak and dizzy, but we remain close. Her words resound in my mind once more.
I know what you’re doing, she says. I know what your plan is.
It’s the only way.
I know it is. I’ll help you.
Relief fills me whole. She won’t give me away.
You must keep quiet, even in your thoughts.
I will. It will be done.
She squeezes my hand, and we walk on like one.
42
Faces
My heart hardens
Every day a little more
They were all shivering, their breaths condensing in little white clouds. The forest kept getting thicker and darker, and very little light seeped from above as more and more branches weaved a tighter canopy. It was the middle of the day, but it felt like twilight, and Sarah kept seeing shadows out the corner of her eye, hiding behind the trees, moving swiftly before she could look straight at them. She was on edge, her hands flooding with heat at every noise. It hurt because of the wounds inflicted on her by the spider’s acid, and over-using her power like this would wear her out in the long run, she knew that – but she couldn’t stop.
“How are your hands?” asked Sean, gently taking her fingers in his, and letting them go at once as the Blackwater burnt him. “Ow!”
“Sorry. I don’t seem to be able to turn it off.”
“Is it painful?”
Sarah shrugged. Her hands should have been dressed, covered in burns and blisters as they were. “It doesn’t matter. How are you?”
“I don’t know how I’m still standing. It doesn’t matter either, I suppose,” Sean replied, and stood closer to her, their arms touching for a moment since their hands couldn’t. Sarah revelled in his closeness, her jagged nerves relaxing slightly.
“How far, Nicholas?” Sean asked.
“We’ll be there tonight.” The blind man’s face was illuminated by the lightning, blue shadows dancing on his features. As the electrical storm continued above them, Sarah kept thinking of the illustration on the cover of the fairy-tale book Harry had left for Elodie – the rays emanating from the skull were blue, just like the lightning. Strange. It must have been a coincidence . . . or did the old folk tales know about the Shadow World?
New storms kept coming, one after the other. They were all stemming from the same place, somewhere ahead of them. The King of Shadows’ lair, Sarah suspected, but didn’t want to ask. Her stomach lurched. She knew it was likely that these were the last hours of her life, and she was ready – but a part of her couldn’t help being scared. She couldn’t help looking around her, at the trees and the purple sky above, and feeling the cold air all over her body. To consider that soon all this would be no more . . . Would there really be a time when she would not know anything, not feel anything? Where would Sean be? If they died together, would they remain together, wherever they were going? It didn’t really matter, not to anyone but them. If the whole human world was hanging in the balance, their love had to be an afterthought. Her shoulder brushed Sean’s arm again, and she wished she could wrap her arms around his waist and lean her head on his chest, to rest and let him rest, and forget about the world . . .
Suddenly everything spun around her, too fast for her to acknowledge what was happening. The sky and the g
round swapped places; she felt herself fall, and her bones ached with the impact. She saw Sean’s knees and hands, and dancing blades of grass. Everything blurred, like through a rainy window – and then she saw nothing. Everything disappeared. It was as if a black curtain had been pulled over her vision.
When she opened her eyes, she was somewhere else. On a beach, open and windy and free, without the tapestry of branches above her to hide the sky. A vision, she realised – one of the rare times in which dreams came to her when she was awake.
Sarah smelled salt in the air, and felt a cold wind move through her hair and over her face – was it Islay? She couldn’t tell. In front of her was the vast expanse of sea. If she took a step, she would walk into the water.
Suddenly, she felt she wasn’t alone. She looked around her, searching, but there were no Surari. Instead, Sean was at her side – and Niall, Elodie, Nicholas, Alvise, and Micol – all of them were there, standing along the water’s edge, gentle ripples lapping at their feet. They all had a strange look in their eyes, as if they were asleep with their eyes open.
The air darkened all of a sudden, and Sarah looked up. She saw black clouds galloping on the horizon towards them, surging faster than any cloud could move in real life. The storm was getting closer and closer at an unnatural speed, taking over the sky. The sea turned grey and foamy in the space of a second, and Sarah gaped as a huge wave rose in front of them from nowhere, ready to swallow them. Sarah thought she’d seen a shape in the water – a face. An enormous face with its eyes closed and mouth open . . .
“Sean!” she screamed, but he didn’t reply. She took a deep breath and caught one last glimpse of Sean’s profile as he stood frozen and silent in front of the rising wave. Then the wave descended.
As the roar of the water deafened her, Sarah braced herself for the wave’s impact, digging her feet firmly in the sand beneath her, expecting the force of the water to sweep her away like a broom sweeps dust. But the wave passed over her somehow, and left her standing, and completely dry. The roaring too had stopped.
She looked around her, desperate to know what happened to her friends. Her knees nearly buckled in relief as she saw Sean still beside her. But she barely had time to take a breath when she realised that not everyone was still standing. Some had been swallowed by the sea. Elodie . . . And Niall . . .
She tried to dive into the water, but she realised she couldn’t move. Her feet were planted in the sand, tied by invisible ropes. To her horror, she saw that in the distance the water was rising again.
She tried to keep calm. “Sean. We need to go. Another wave is coming.” She shook his arm, but her feet would not move. Sean didn’t even turn towards her. He continued standing mute, gazing ahead of him. Sarah could only look helplessly on as another wave rose from the sea and landed on them, taking Alvise and Micol away. Now only she and Sean stood together on the waterline.
“Sean. Sean, please look at me. Talk to me!” she pleaded, but there was no reply. He stood immobile and without expression, looking ahead of him at the stormy water.
Another wave came. Sarah closed her eyes. All of a sudden she felt peaceful, even happy, that the sea had decided to take them together. When the water fell on her once more, she let herself go. It was time.
But the third wave was gone too, and Sarah stood dry and unmoved on the shore. Sean was gone. She was still on the waterline, alone, tears mixed with seawater falling from her eyes and an empty heart beating in her chest.
“Sarah? Sarah?”
Sarah blinked over and over. There was a strange taste in her mouth – soil, she realised, and brought her arm to her mouth, cleaning her lips. The darkening sky came into focus, and then so did Sean’s face. Sean. He was there. He was alive.
“Was it a vision?” he asked, helping her sit up. She saw that the others were standing in a circle around her, facing out, watching for danger. She nodded.
“Yes. It just came over me . . .”
“Can you tell me what you saw?”
“All of us were standing on a beach somewhere. On the waterline. Three waves came, and with each wave more of us were gone. Until everyone was dead. Except me.”
Sean frowned. He couldn’t say what he thought, that if that was going to be the end result – they’d all die and Sarah survived – he was too relieved that Sarah would be alive to entirely mourn the loss of his own life, and the others’.
He held her hands and helped her stand. “Can you walk?”
“Yes. I’m okay,” she said. But she wasn’t.
In the dream everyone had died except for her. Another sign that she had to be kept alive. Why? What did they want from her? And who were “they”? Nicholas? The King of Shadows? Both? Something else?
Elodie stepped beside Sarah and Sean. “In the book Harry gave me,” she began, “one of the tales talked about two children on a quest to free their parents’ soul from a witch. In order to free them, the children had to face three waves of evil. I read that book twice, but there were so many stories . . . I can’t remember exactly what the waves were. And then there was this spirit who held a mirror to the children’s faces and made them see horrible things.”
Sarah gazed at her. Those black, black eyes, in place of Elodie’s warm chocolate ones, unnerved her. “What happened to the children?”
“They died. Their souls turned into flowers. Bluebells.”
“Great,” said Niall. “It’s a good sign, for sure.”
As soon as the others were out of earshot, Sarah took Sean’s arm. “Sean. In the dream, only I survived. They have a plan for me. That’s why I’m not dead yet.”
Sean felt cold. He wished he could dismiss Sarah’s fears, but he couldn’t. “Do you think Nicholas is betraying us? That he still wants you as his wife?”
“I don’t know. But I want you to promise something.”
“What is it?”
“If this is still what he’s planning . . . don’t let him drag my soul away. Kill me before he can take me.”
Sean took hold of her wrist, gently. “I won’t let him take you,” he whispered in her ear. When he looked up once more, his eyes met Elodie’s. She’d turned around and was looking at Sarah with those new, obsidian eyes. Looking straight at her with an expression neither of them could decipher.
They walked on for another while, the freezing air cutting their skin. All of a sudden dazzling light flooded their eyes – there were no more trees. They stepped into a clearing, the white, frozen sky hanging heavy over them, high grass swaying in the wind. A circle of grey stones – double Sarah’s height – rose from the grass, and three enormous boulders stood in the middle. They were roughly sculpted to resemble crouching figures. Two were beasts, one that looked like a monkey, one a kind of lizard, and another was an etched human being with a small body and an enormous face. They were like statues in a long-abandoned temple, moss half covering them, the elements having rounded their corners and smoothed the carvings.
Sarah looked around her. She knew that place. It was her place of dreams, the one she’d gone to in nearly every vision since her parents had been killed. She remembered the first time she’d been there, how she’d been trapped under those stones, and then she’d crawled out to stand under the twilight sky, the wind on her face, every colour heightened, vivid, the way it was in the Shadow World. She recalled the demon attack, and then Nicholas, the pale, black-haired boy she used to call Leaf because he gifted her autumn leaves, saving her life.
Everything was meant to bring me here, Sarah realised suddenly. Since it all started, this was ultimately where she was supposed to be – in the Shadow World. She stared into the white sky, the lilac light of dusk spreading from the west, and then around her at the swaying grass, the visions that had taken place there going through her mind one by one.
“Sean . . .” she called. Sean came to stand beside her, gazing at her profile as she kept looking around her, astonished and still somehow accepting, as if some part of her had always known. “
This is my place of dreams,” she whispered.
“The place you see in your visions? Are you sure?”
Sarah nodded. “I am sure.”
At that moment, a deafening noise exploded in their ears, and blue light swallowed them. Lightning had struck right in the clearing, and then another, and another, hitting the three boulders and disappearing into the ground.
“The King of Shadows is here,” Sarah said, and everyone stood still.
“Is that right, Nicholas? Is this the place?” asked Sean.
Nicholas nodded and remained silent, his chin slightly raised as if listening for something. At that moment a long, deep, growling filled the air, and it wasn’t thunder – it came from the ground beneath them. The earth shook, the boulders trembled as they all lost their footing and fell in the long grass.
Nicholas called to his father. She’s here. I brought her to you.
43
Figlia Mia
The me I see in you
Is the part of you I hate
Venice
They heard her screams resound throughout the Palazzo. Winter, who was helping Cosima bake bread, ran as fast as she could through the frescoed halls. Reaching Lucrezia, she kneeled beside her. The Italian girl’s screaming stopped and she was as still as a doll.
“Lucrezia? What did you see?” she whispered urgently, drying sweat on the girl’s face with a lacy handkerchief Cosima kept on her bedside table.
At that moment, Conte Vendramin barged into the room. “What did she say? Something about Alvise?” he enquired hopefully.
“Nothing yet.”
“Lucrezia. Figlia mia,” he began, but then his daughter interrupted him.
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