by Kate Keir
Leaning toward him, I pressed my lips against his and kissed him fiercely. “You better find us soon,” I whispered.
“I promise,” he whispered before pulling back from me and diving into the shadows of the trees just in time to avoid the two approaching Supers.
The Draugur stood on the shore and howled at us as we disappeared across the loch. Clearly, they weren’t up for a swim, and I was thankful for their aversion to water as we slowly drifted farther and farther out of their reach.
I sat in shock, staring at the stand of trees Lyall had just disappeared into when suddenly the upper floors of the castle illuminated with a blaze of orange light.
“It’s on fire,” I gasped.
Enid laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, Flora. They’ll all make it out.”
Every part of me wanted to begin rowing back to land. I looked at the oars, which were now in Artair’s hands as he steered us toward the far shore, but he shook his head at me.
“Not going to happen, Flora. I’m more afraid of what Lyall will do to me than you.”
I turned back to watch the fire take full hold of the place I had called home for months now, and I realised that we weren’t going to be able to go back.
My eyes reflected the flames that licked at the night sky, and the tears that rolled down my cheeks were tinged with fire.
“Where will we go?” I asked brokenly.
“There’s a place that Pen has kept secret. It’s our safe-haven if ever something like this happens.” Artair kept his face emotionless as he spoke, but I could hear the desolation in his voice.
“How did I never know about it?” My voice was shaky.
“Because you never needed to. You will always have at least one Dion with you in these kinds of circumstances.”
“Is it far away from here?” I asked, wondering how long it would take for the others to arrive.
“No, it’s not far. It’s nothing like the castle, Flora. It’s a pretty miserable place, but that’s why Pen chose it. It’s unlikely Sluag will search for us there.” Artair grunted at the effort of rowing.
I turned away from the inferno which now engulfed the castle. I couldn’t look at it any longer, and I fell silent until we reached the far shore of Loch Ness.
Eventually, the tiny boat bounced off land, and all three of us jumped out onto the bank.
“Come on, it’s not too far to go.” Artair spoke gently, sensing how fragile my emotions were right now.
We set off up the bank and into a densely wooded forest with Artair leading the way. We had no torches for light, so progress was slow as we stumbled blindly through the woods.
We walked in silence for over an hour before the landscape changed. The trees thinned out, and the terrain became increasingly rocky. I was surprised to step out of the tree line and suddenly find myself standing on a railway line.
I jumped back in panic, afraid I had escaped the Super Draugur only to end up getting flattened by a train.
Artair almost smiled. “Don’t worry, the line’s disused. We’ll follow the tracks from here to where we’re going.”
I had no energy left to question where we were going; instead, Enid and I fell into step behind him, walking carefully between the rusty tracks.
After an age, we reached a square, single-storey building that hunkered at the foot of a hill. The tracks we followed flowed to two huge front doors that were covered over with nailed-in boards before disappearing inside.
The building was derelict, with boards covering all of the windows and barely any paint left on the exterior walls.
Artair didn’t hesitate. He walked to one of the boarded windows and wrestled the wood away.
“What is this place?” Enid’s eyes were wide.
“It used to be a rail terminal, but it hasn’t been used in decades. So, now it’s our safehouse.”
We stepped inside, and Artair flicked a switch that fired up a few dim lights in the roof.
It was dark, depressing, and uncared for—the perfect place to lie low and stay undiscovered.
“Sorry it’s not what you’re used to,” Artair said apologetically.
I looked around at the damp walls, peeling plaster, and the tiny, dirty kitchen area before taking a deep breath. “We’re alive, that’s what matters. What now?”
“Now we wait for the others,” he said grimly.
Chapter Eight
It turned out the ceiling lights were battery powered, but there was a generator that would supply power to the building once it was switched on. Artair headed to the basement to get us up and running.
“Don’t leave her side,” he murmured to Enid, touching his fingers to hers in a brief moment of tenderness before he started down the steps to the dark underbelly of the terminal.
I shuddered, glad it wasn’t me going down into the pitch darkness.
I suddenly heard a thunderous thrumming sound, and for a few moments I panicked, not knowing what the hell it was. Enid was checking out the small kitchen area, and she jumped and raised her head too.
We both relaxed simultaneously as we realised the sound was coming from a downpour of rain on the corrugated tin roof which sat atop the building—it was going to take a while to become familiar with the sounds here.
I crossed the bare earthen floor to a battered, wooden door and unlocked it before yanking it back on squealing hinges. I flinched.
“Undercover, Flora,” Enid reprimanded.
“Sorry,” I murmured as I rested my shoulder against the doorframe and stared out into the bleak night.
Three of us were safely here, but six of us were still out there in the inhospitable darkness. My Dion would be cold, wet, and afraid. Were they all still okay? Had I lost anyone?
I sucked in a deep breath, my lungs filling with cold, damp air, and I wrapped my arms around myself. I dug my nails into the tender flesh of my upper arms, using the pinching feeling to keep me grounded when all I wanted to do was run out into the night and try to find them.
“Get your ass here, Lyall,” I whispered under my breath.
A sudden sound from somewhere in the trees surrounding the terminal sent me reaching for the short sword that hung at my hip. I held my breath and stared into the darkness, waiting for a Draugur or Super to appear.
When Freya’s tall form stepped out from the tree cover, I blew out the breath I had been holding and quickly crossed the front yard of the building to meet her.
When Finlay and Bear emerged behind her—supporting an extremely sick-looking Pen between them—I whimpered in relief.
I passed Freya, and we gave each other a warm hug before she continued toward the muted light that trickled from the open door.
I reached the others, and my eyes widened when I saw exactly how sick Pen was. “Are you all right?” I whispered.
Finlay’s face was dark as he practically carried Pen with Bear’s help. “We need to get her inside and warm. Something’s wrong, Flora. She doesn’t just have the flu.”
I walked beside them in silence, already soaked through and shivering from the rain.
Once we were inside, Finlay and Bear gently laid Pen down on a dusty sofa bed, and Freya covered her with a rough woollen blanket. Pen was barely conscious by now.
I beckoned Finlay to a corner of the room, and he gave me a hug. “I’m so glad you’re safe, Flor.”
“Me too, but Pen’s not safe, Finlay. She needs a hospital and quickly.” I stared into his once again unfamiliar eyes.
The pain in his eyes hurt my heart. “If we take her to a hospital, she’ll be a sitting duck for Sluag, Flor. He’ll kill her.”
“If we don’t take her, I’m pretty sure the outcome will be the same. She needs professional help, Finlay,” I argued.
“If we take her to the hospital, I can’t leave her alone. I have to stay with her and guard her. That means I can’t take care of you.” He was torn.
“That’s okay. I have the other Dion to look out for me
here.” I looked over at the others. They were switching heaters on in the main room and the smaller rooms that would likely serve as bedrooms, now that Artair had kicked the generator into life.
My eyes flickered back to study Finlay’s face. “Did you see him? He went back to find you.”
He knew I meant Lyall. He was silent for a moment before he answered me. “We didn’t see him, or Leah. I figured he came with you, to protect you on the way to the safehouse.”
I could tell by his face he was telling me the truth. I’d known Finlay long enough to be able to pick apart any lies he told.
“No news is good news, right?” I tried to sound upbeat, but inside I felt as though my heart was breaking apart. I couldn’t live without Lyall.
Finlay pulled me in to a bear hug. “He’ll be here, Flor. He wouldn’t leave you to face Sluag alone. He’s too damn stubborn for that.”
A wracking cough from across the room brought our attention back to Pen. Freya was standing over our oldest Dion, stroking Pen’s silver hair and murmuring comforting words.
“She needs a hospital.” Artair’s voice said he wasn’t compromising, and I agreed.
“She does. Finlay has said he will take her and stay with her.” I nodded to my best friend.
“I’ll get the car from the garage.” Artair wasted no time in disappearing through the still open door.
“Keep your phone switched on and check in with us every two hours, okay?” Freya spoke firmly.
Finlay nodded before looking toward me. “Don’t let anything happen to her.”
“You know we won’t.” Enid’s voice was low and determined.
Once again, I marvelled at how far she had come since she first met Lyall and me. My stomach clenched as I thought of my wolf-eyed Dion. He was out there somewhere, and I should have been looking for him. It’s what he would do for me. But I had no idea where to start; he could have been anywhere.
Finlay leaned over Pen and gently lifted her from the sofa. He crossed the room to the front door and moved quickly through the rain to lay Pen’s prone body across the back seat of the car, and then fixed the blanket around her cold body.
Artair handed the keys to Finlay, and they both nodded to each other. I felt a brief flicker of relief at Artair’s seeming forgiveness of Finlay after all this time.
Finlay slid into the driver’s seat and started to ease the car through the trees, the lights of the car fading into the squalling rain showers until we were left in just the sickly yellow glow of the terminal lights once more.
“We should get some sleep.” Even after everything that had happened, Bear was still his usual upbeat self. “We’ll be warmer if we share a bed.” This last was directed at Freya.
“I’d rather freeze,” she huffed before stalking to one of the small rooms at the back of the building that were furnished with thin mattresses and slamming the door behind her.
Bear sheepishly chose another room and nodded goodnight to us before closing the door behind him.
Artair and Enid started toward their own rooms. “You should get some sleep, Flora,” Artair said softly.
I had moved to one of the windows. I could barely see anything through the rivers of rain that poured down the glass, but I settled myself into a threadbare chair and pulled a thin blanket around my shoulders.
“I can’t, Artair. Not until I know he’s safe,” I whispered.
He started to speak again, but Enid laid a gentle hand on his chest and shook her head at him.
“Okay.” He nodded once before they both headed to bed, leaving me alone in my silent vigil.
Chapter Nine
Finlay was true to his word, and after two hours, my phone beeped to let me know I had a text. I tore my eyes from the view out the window for long enough to read the words on the screen, and my heart sank.
We’re at the hospital, Flor. They’re doing tests. It doesn’t look good. F x
My chest tightened as I read the simple sentences. I bit my lip as I typed my reply and hit send.
What’s wrong with her? Do you know yet? F x
I returned my gaze to the window. The rain was relentless. It hadn’t even slowed a tiny bit. My eyes followed the raindrop rivers as they raced down the glass, hurrying to join their comrades in the flow of water that ran over the cracked and split wood of the exterior window sill.
My phone beeped again, and I fought the urge to hit the power off button. If Pen was really and truly ill, I didn’t want to know.
They suspect it’s a brain aneurysm!
No kiss, no “F,” just the cold, hard facts. I bit down on a sob, not wanting to wake the others. Pen had always been like a mother to me and Finlay. The thought of not having her around hurt too much.
Can they help her Finlay?
His reply came too quickly.
I don’t think they can, Flor!
I started to write a response but deleted it after a few words. I tried several more times over the next few minutes to think of the right thing to say. I knew Finlay would be a wreck right now, and he was alone in the hospital, dealing with everything. The words just wouldn’t come, though.
My phone beeped again, and I quickly drank in the words on the screen.
There’s one thing that would cure her. Immortal blood. I read about it in one of the manuscripts. Immortal blood will heal any illness, a bit like in stories about vampires, Flor.
I reread the text three times. At first, I thought he meant my blood because my soul was immortal, but I quickly realised that what he actually meant was the Host of the Unforgiven Dead’s blood. Both Sluag’s body and soul were immortal. He was unique. That must have been what Sluag meant when he told me I would be back sooner than I thought.
I felt a flicker of anger and desperation as I replied.
Yeah, okay, I’ll just call down to the Endwood and ask Sluag to lend me some blood. Not likely, Finlay.
I let my head drop to my hands and growled aloud. The one thing that might help Pen was the one thing I couldn’t do. Nothing on earth would make Sluag give me his blood.
After another ten minutes had passed, I realised Finlay wasn’t going to reply. Why would he? I figured he had more important things to focus on.
After another five minutes of complete indecision, I stood up and let the blanket fall back onto the chair. Crossing the room to the door, I slipped quietly out into the rain, and I imagined the Everwood around me.
I quickly appeared amongst the blue-flowered trees, and I wasn’t really surprised to see a few random snowflakes falling from the sky. One settled against my hair before quickly melting in the warmth of my body.
“Well at least I know I’ve definitely been betrayed,” I murmured, wondering once again who had left the gate to Castle Dion open.
I began to make my way through the Everwood, and as I walked I felt a sense of relief. If I truly had been betrayed, then the prophecy had been fulfilled. I was no longer fated to die before my twenty-first birthday.
Pure souls bobbed through the trees, dipping and spinning through the air. They celebrated my presence as though I were a god, and I guessed in a strange way, I was their god.
I barely had to even try to imagine the silver threads that would connect our souls and let me speak to them all at once. With a mental flourish, I sent around three hundred souls skittering off delightedly through the trees.
A rogue bobbed toward me, and I obliterated it without hesitation.
I was a Soul Keeper, and I was finally quite good at it. I felt my confidence rise a little as I approached the boundary line between my beautiful land and Sluag’s Endwood.
I could have tried to sleep so I could meet Sluag in the dream version of the Endwood, but my likelihood of sleeping when I was torn-up by thoughts of Lyall and Pen was zero. So, here I was for real.
Stopping before I reached the Endwood, I looked around me. There was no sign of Sluag or any of his Draugur. I wasn’t going to achieve anything without his presence, so I called out
his name.
“Sluag?” It came out louder than I had intended, and I pressed my fingertips over my lips and shivered while I waited to see if he would come.
He sauntered through the blackened trees with a huge smile on his rotten face. “Flora, I can’t keep you away these days.”
I shrugged. “What can I say, I guess we’re besties now.”
He snorted. “No, not besties,” he said the word like it tasted unpleasant to him. “But I do think we are coming to understand each other a little, don’t you think?”
I thought about it for a moment before I replied. “You know, I think I’d understand you a lot better if I knew what happened before you became the Host of the Unforgiven Dead.”
He tilted his head to one side as he studied my face. The scaly grey skin of his neck tightened, and his wisps of hair drooped under the gravity. His fire-pit eyes burned as he appeared to consider my proposal.
He finally seemed to reach a decision, and he slowly made his way to a pair of conveniently located tree stumps. One was on his side of the border and the other was on my side, but they faced each other with only a couple of metres separating them.
He sat down on his stump and gestured that I do the same on mine. There were none of the usual grand flourishes and theatrics I had become so used to from him.
I crossed to the tree stump, and after one final check that it was definitely all the way on my side of the border, I sat down and faced my enemy.
The silence between us stretched out into the realms of uncomfortable and I fought the urge to say something to fill it.
Finally, he spoke.
“I’ve never talked about my time before here with anyone. I would never have imagined to discuss it with a Soul Keeper. But, here we are.”