The Midnight Gate

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by Helen Stringer


  “We’re here,” said Miss Parker eventually, her voice cutting through the sound of the chariot and the roaring wind with no more effort than if she were back in her office.

  The pterodactyl wheeled to the left and shot toward the jagged peak of a huge black mountain. It circled the summit twice, then plunged toward the ground with a sick-making lurch. As far as Belladonna could make out, there was nowhere to land on the massy crag, but the great beast knew otherwise and brought the chariot in to a surprisingly gentle landing on one of the few areas that was reasonably flat.

  Once they were on the ground, the bats flew off to roost in the caves and canyons of the mountain while Odysseus wrapped his wings around his muscular body, hissed once at his mistress, and curled up under an overhanging boulder.

  “We’ll have to climb the rest of the way,” said Miss Parker, stepping down lightly. “Follow me.”

  She marched off, leaving Belladonna and Steve running to catch up. The ground was littered with rocks and boulders of various sizes, but the Queen of the Abyss seemed oblivious. She strode through the wasteland as if it were nothing more than a park on a summer’s day, and even when she started to climb, it seemed to take no effort at all, while Belladonna and Steve lagged behind, struggling to find hand- and footholds in the crumbling black rock.

  Belladonna strained to see the summit. It had seemed clear when the chariot had circled it, but now it was shrouded in dense black clouds that roiled around the serrated pinnacle, and the closer they got, the darker it became. Soon rain began to fall, then sleet bit into their faces and fingers, but still the Queen of the Abyss climbed on as lightning flashed among the clouds, and the thunder rumbled around their ears.

  Belladonna had to admit that the mountain was certainly a great hiding place—no one would come here unless they absolutely had to. But the sheer effort involved made her wonder all the more about the coins. English coins with Welsh names. Why were they so important? When was someone going to let them in on the secret?

  She was wet and freezing and the more she thought about the coins and the cryptic “explanations” they got from everybody they spoke to, the more irritated she became. She glanced over at Steve. His teeth were clenched in an effort to stop them chattering and he seemed to be trying to concentrate on the next handhold rather than looking ahead into the storm. This seemed like a good idea, so she made an effort to drive all speculation about the coins from her mind, put her head down, and just get on with it.

  She was still trying to think only about the next step when the howling of the wind and the rumble and crash of the lightning were shattered by laughter. She looked up. Miss Parker was standing above them, completely dry and composed.

  “Get a move on,” she said. “I’ve got a parent/teacher meeting at four.”

  “We’re going as fast as we can!” yelled Steve. “It’s freezing up here and I think the storm is getting worse!”

  “Oh, it is,” said Miss Parker. “I designed it that way.”

  She smiled briefly, then turned toward the storm and raised her staff.

  “Megar!”

  It was like turning off a switch. No sooner was the word out of her mouth than the rain, thunder, and lightning stopped and the clouds dispersed through the sky like ink in water.

  Belladonna didn’t know what she expected to see, but it certainly wasn’t what she was looking at: a small rocky waste without even a cairn to mark it as the summit.

  “There’s nothing here,” she said, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

  “That’s the idea.”

  Miss Parker held her staff out and pointed it at the ground in the center of the mountaintop.

  “Erpad!”

  At first nothing happened and Belladonna wondered if it was going to work. She knew that the word meant “reveal,” but the barren ground seemed to be unwilling to show whatever it was Miss Parker wanted to see.

  Crack!

  The noise was loud, like the snapping of a heavy branch, and Belladonna watched as the ground in front of them seemed to split. At first the opening was slight, nothing more than a thin strip, but soon there was a second crack and a third and a fourth and before long, there was a gaping wound in the plateau, a chasm into the mountain’s heart.

  The Queen of the Abyss stamped the earth twice with her staff, and the earth began to shake beneath their feet. Belladonna and Steve almost lost their balance, but Miss Parker never had so much as a single hair out of place as slowly, painfully, something began to rise out of the hole. It was a rock, a black boulder, eroded into an almost perfect sphere but in every other way no different from any of the other rocks on the mountain.

  Belladonna watched as it rolled slowly across the ground to the feet of Miss Parker, who just stared at it.

  “I had thought,” she said, “when I concealed this here, that there would never be a need for it to be seen again.”

  She sighed and stared at it for a few moments. Moments stretched to minutes, and Belladonna and Steve glanced at each other. Why didn’t she just get on with it?

  Apparently the same thought had been going through Miss Parker’s head, because she turned and looked at Belladonna.

  “Well, go on. What are you waiting for?”

  “What?”

  “I concealed it, but it can only be opened by a Spellbinder. It was agreed … we agreed that it should be so.”

  “Why?” said Steve.

  “It was thought best that no one should be able to retrieve all the nobles, and without all, they are useless. It was decided that only a Spellbinder should be able to do so and then only to prevent a return of the Dark Times. Open the rock, Belladonna.”

  “Hang on.” Steve stepped in front of Belladonna. “I’ve seen this sort of thing in films. How do we know you’re not just going to take it and kill us? Or leave us here, which would probably be the same thing.”

  “Are you questioning me?” Miss Parker looked as though she could barely grasp the idea that someone might be so foolish.

  “No, he’s not! It’s fine!” said Belladonna, trying to get around Steve to the rock.

  He was having none of it, however, and demonstrated some of the guarding skills he’d picked up in football—no matter which way she tried to move, he was always in her way.

  “Steve!” she hissed. “Stop it!”

  “So what do they do? The coins. We found the names on them. Welsh names.”

  “Amazing,” said Miss Parker. “Really amazing.”

  “What?”

  “You, Mr. Evans. After untold millennia in all of the Nine Worlds, I finally find myself genuinely surprised.”

  “Why?”

  “Because a few months ago I doubt whether you had ever noticed Belladonna Johnson, and yet here you are, a true Paladin, putting yourself between her and me when you have to know that I could destroy you utterly with the merest movement of my little finger.”

  “Isn’t that my job?”

  “So it is. However, questioning me is not. No Paladin has ever dared to question the Queen of the Abyss.”

  “Well, maybe he should have,” said Steve. “It seems like you made a right mess of things last time. Maybe if Edmund de Braes or the last Spellbinder, whatsername … Margaret something … anyway, if they had asked what the heck you thought you were doing, maybe we wouldn’t have to be here now.”

  “He has a point,” said Belladonna. “If this is all really so important, why doesn’t anyone tell us what’s going on? Why do we have to keep figuring out these stupid rhymes?”

  “Everything is there for a reason, Spellbinder, even the rhymes. The journey is as important as the destination—”

  “Look!” said Steve. “See? There you go again! What on earth is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means,” said Miss Parker, her teeth gritted in an attempt to stay calm, “that when the time comes for you to take on the Empress, you must be prepared and we must be sure that you are the right ones for the job.” />
  “Wait…” Belladonna glanced sharply at the Queen of the Abyss. “The rhymes are part of the test?”

  “Of course. As I said, all Spellbinders must be tested. We must know that they and their Paladins have the mettle for the challenges that lie ahead. Too much is at stake to merely hope for the best.”

  “But what do you mean, the ‘right ones’?” asked Steve. “Are there other Spellbinders? Other Paladins?”

  “Not at the moment. There can be only one at a time. One girl is chosen as needed.”

  “By who?”

  “Decisions that affect all Nine Worlds are made by the Old Ones, and whenever the fabric that holds the worlds together is threatened, we designate a Spellbinder from among the Chime Children.”

  “The Chime Children?”

  “Children born in the chime hours, or more correctly on the striking of the chimes.”

  “No,” said Steve. “That wasn’t really an explanation. You can’t explain a word with the same word. That’s not how it works.”

  “The chime hours, Mr. Evans, are midnight and three o’clock in the morning.”

  “Wait, you mean all children born at that hour are Chime Children? There must be an awful lot of them.”

  “There are. Why do you think I run a school?”

  Belladonna had to admit that it seemed rather an odd hobby for the Queen of the Dead.

  “Are we all Chime Children, then?” she asked. “Everyone at Dullworth’s, I mean.”

  “No, but there are more than the average number.”

  “And what does it mean? What makes Chime Children special?” asked Steve.

  “They can see ghosts,” said Miss Parker matter-of-factly. “That is, they have the ability to see ghosts. Most go through life without seeing a single one, of course. You, for one, Mr. Evans, I rather imagine would never have seen a single spirit if it hadn’t been for Belladonna here. Didn’t you ever wonder why, once you saw one, you could suddenly see them all?”

  “Umm … Not really.”

  “It’s still difficult to believe that you, of all people, are the Paladin,” sighed Miss Parker.

  “Didn’t you choose me too?”

  “No, we did not,” she said, as if the very idea were ludicrous. “We can only choose the Spellbinder; the Paladin chooses himself.”

  “But I didn’t,” protested Steve, as if he’d been accused of breaking something.

  “Not consciously, of course,” snapped Miss Parker.

  “Well, what does seeing ghosts have to do with saving the Nine Worlds from the return of the Dark Times?”

  “The Spellbinder and Paladin must be able to move between the worlds. The ability to see the Dead is merely the outward indication of that ability.”

  “Hang on,” said Steve. “If loads of people have the ability to see ghosts, like you said, then why don’t they? Why isn’t everyone just having nice afternoon chats with all their dead relatives and inviting them over for Sunday dinner?”

  “You really are obtuse sometimes, Evans,” sighed Miss Parker. “A person may have an innate ability to play the piano or the violin, but they’ll never know it unless they get the opportunity to play, and even then, it will take plenty of practice before they realize their true potential.”

  “But I could already see ghosts,” said Belladonna. “I didn’t just start when this started.”

  “I know. We couldn’t believe our luck.”

  “Your luck?”

  “Someone who can already see ghosts as easily as you has the potential to be the greatest Spellbinder of them all, and we knew that to defeat the Empress of the Dark Spaces, we would need a most extraordinary girl. That was why we took the risk on one so young.”

  “Because you thought there would be time.”

  “And now there is none, so I strongly suggest you open the rock.”

  “So what you’re saying, really,” began Steve, “is that if something happens to Belladonna or me, you’ll just pick somebody else?”

  Miss Parker sighed again and rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

  “Okay. So you don’t really have our best interests at heart, then, do you? I mean, if you’re just thinking, ‘Oh, I broke this one, let’s go and get another,’ then how are we supposed to believe that the things you tell us to do are really the best way of going about things?”

  “That’s true,” said Belladonna, suddenly regarding the Queen of the Abyss in a whole new light. “I mean, we’ve only been doing this since October and now you’re going to send us off to tackle the Empress head-on. If she can only come through on the Day of Crows, and can only do that if I’m there saying the Words, then why don’t Steve and I just hide out for a day until it’s over?”

  Miss Parker looked from one to the other. “Alright. Alright. I’ll think about it. But could you please open the rock now so that you are armed just in case. And I am not deliberately trying to get you killed, Mr. Evans, nor am I going to leave you on top of this mountain, tempting though the idea may be.”

  Belladonna glanced at Steve, who nodded and stepped aside. She stood in front of the round stone and stared at it.

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Oh, in the name of all that’s holy! I don’t know! I told you—the rock can be opened only by the Spellbinder. If I knew how to open it, I would have done it already!”

  Belladonna bit her lip and turned her attention back to the rock. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, waiting for the Words. Then she knew. She kneeled down, placed a finger on the stone, and whispered the Words. They were in the ancient tongue, but she knew their meaning: Give to me what is mine!

  For a moment it seemed as if nothing would happen, but then the boulder suddenly swelled, like a cake in the oven, and just as suddenly collapsed in on itself, leaving only a pile of black dust. Belladonna waved her hand slightly and a breeze surged across the plateau, blowing the dust away and leaving a gold coin, the Ninth Noble, gleaming on the ground.

  “That is just so cool,” said Steve in a tone of awestruck wonder.

  Belladonna picked up the coin and turned it over in her hand.

  “What name is on this one?”

  “Skatha.”

  Belladonna stood up and put the coin in her pocket. The Queen of the Abyss muttered something about pulling teeth and strode to the edge of the plateau.

  “Odysseus! Adhu-bakha!”

  There was a distant hiss, then the sound of claws on rock, then a grinding noise and the thumping of massive wings as the pterodactyl took to the air. Belladonna watched as the chariot made a slow circle through the sky in front of them, then came in and stopped, hovering a foot above the summit.

  “Climb in,” said Miss Parker. “There’s no time to waste.”

  They scrambled into the waiting chariot beside her and took a firm hold of the crossbar. The Queen of the Abyss picked up the reins and gave them a sharp snap.

  “Home!”

  Odysseus hissed once, then pulled the chariot around, circled the mountain once more, and headed out into the night sky as the clouds of bats emerged from their caves and crags and escorted their queen back across her domain to the House of Ashes.

  24

  The Last Spellbinder

  THE RETURN JOURNEY seemed much shorter, as return journeys usually do, and it wasn’t long before they were crossing the great hall of the House of Ashes once more.

  The man in black who had been sharpening his scythe had gone and Belladonna couldn’t suppress a shudder. He had seemed so ordinary when he had spoken to Miss Parker before, but she knew he was what most people dreaded.

  Miss Parker must have seen the expression on her face because she put one long, elegant white hand on Belladonna’s shoulder and patted it gently.

  “It isn’t always dreadful,” she said. “For some it is a longed-for release and for others just the final curtain on a well-lived life.”

  “But not for everyone,” said Belladonna.

  “No, not for everyone
. There will always be those whose deaths are untimely, but there you go. Such is life, as the French say.”

  She smiled cheerfully, but Belladonna felt far from comforted. It reminded her too much of the car crash that killed her parents.

  She turned away. She needed to think about something else.

  “Miss Parker?”

  “Yes?”

  “What do the names mean?”

  “They are the names of the stones,” said Miss Parker, the sharp click of her footsteps echoing through the hall.

  “The ones in the circle in my dream?”

  “I think you will find that you were not dreaming.”

  “Wait.” Steve stopped walking. “So there really is a stone circle in Shady Gardens?”

  The Queen of the Abyss stopped striding through her palace and turned around.

  “Indeed.”

  “The Wild Hunt said the stones were important to her. To the Empress.”

  “The Hunt is dangerous and not to be trusted.”

  “But are they right?” asked Steve. “Is this circle special in some way?”

  “They are all special. Or they were, but together they were too powerful. That is why we got rid of most of them. She was searching for the Fortress of the Sisters, you see.”

  “The what?”

  “She didn’t find it. But she did find out about the stones. She realized that some were more powerful than others, those at the junctions.”

  “Hang on,” said Steve. “Are you talking about ley lines?”

  “What are ley lines?” asked Belladonna.

  “Some people think that there are sort of invisible lines joining all the stone circles and megaliths and that the lines themselves have some kind of power. Of course, most people think those people are nutjobs. But they’re not, are they?”

 

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