Destiny (Immortal)

by Gillian Shields

  “I can’t really explain,” Helen replied. “Not yet. But do you want to go on, or turn back?”

  Sarah and I looked at each other. The complete love and trust I felt for Helen was reflected in Sarah’s eyes. “Do you really need to ask?” I said. “We’re with you to the end.”

  And so the three of us went down into the secret earth, a hundred steps and a hundred more, again and again. My old fears of the dark had left me, I was with my sisters, and I wasn’t afraid, just driven on to finish what we had started. We went farther down again until we had lost count and were dizzy with the many turnings of the stairs and the endless echoes of our footsteps. And when I felt I couldn’t go any farther, and had lost all sense of time and distance, we came at last to the bottom. We passed though a low wooden door and stepped out into a circular chamber carved out of black rock. Four large lamps of crystal gave off a soft, pure light.

  The sides of the black chamber were polished and gleaming, and it had no roof. The walls rose up and up until they passed from our sight, as though we were standing at the base of an impossibly deep well. I thought, or perhaps imagined, that high above us I could see a speck of light and a window back to the living world above.

  In the middle of the chamber was a round pool, surrounded by a shallow wall. The water came right up to the level of the wall and was perfectly still, like a sheet of glass. A delicately wrought arch rose up over the pool, and from the arch hung an iron bell.

  We looked at each other in wonder and went closer, drawn to the strangeness and beauty of it. At the very top of the arch there was a symbol—a circle like the sun, crossed by two swift wings—or was it the shape of two sharp daggers?

  “The Seal!” Sarah exclaimed. And then we saw that there were other shapes and symbols engraved on the bell: interlinking circles that formed themselves into letters and words that we could somehow understand.

  I guard Time; that which is, was, will be, and might have been. And each Circle is a part of the Whole.

  Helen looked pale, but determined, as though she had made up her mind to do something she dreaded and yet desired.

  “We have been given the gift of our elemental powers, but there is another element—Time itself. And Miss Scratton told us, didn’t she, that there is a crack in Time under Wyldcliffe’s valley, and this is it, right under the chapel that the first holy sisters built here in praise of the One who created all things—past and future, seen and unseen. The ancient men who carved the Eye of Time in the rock under the Ridge were paying homage to this sacred, dangerous place. There is a door here, concealed by this water, between us and the Shadows, and many other worlds. One of them is the world of what might have been. It’s another dimension that lies hidden, coiled inside the ones we see and know, locked away behind a secret door. It’s that door we must open now.”

  “How do you know these things, Helen?” I said, mesmerized by her power and beauty and certainty.

  “I feel them in my heart. I see things, shapes and forms and meanings, like…like bright angels hovering on the edges of my mind. I believe we have been led here, now, at this moment, to reveal all secrets. Besides,” she said, lightly touching the Seal that she still wore on her blouse, “the Seal is awake now. It speaks to me, and I am home at last.”

  “So what do you want us to do?” Sarah asked bluntly. “And how does this help us to defeat the Priestess?”

  “We can’t defeat her.”

  “But we trapped her in the rock,” I protested. “And we swept her and the coven away when the lake rose up. And we have Cal and Josh now, and Velvet and the Wild Hunt—we can beat her again.”

  “And she will come back again and again, each time more deadly,” Helen replied impatiently. “How many battles have we had with the Priestess? This time we have to make an end. Because there’ll always be someone innocent that she can take hostage: a child, a mother, or my friends. She’ll try over and over to force me into giving her what she craves. Even without the powers of our Keys, she’s a formidable enemy. We can’t truly defeat her, or her sorcerer Dr. Franzen, or her terrible Eternal King. We can’t stop the Priestess. But we can stop Celia Hartle from ever becoming the Priestess in the first place. We can make her choose differently. And to do that we have to turn back time.”

  “But that’s impossible!” Sarah said

  Helen smiled. “And was it impossible for Evie to restore Sebastian to the One? Was it impossible for you to go down into Death and return as a queen? Nothing is impossible, if you believe.”

  “But how—time is fixed, you can’t change it,” I said, puzzled.

  “Time is now, and now, and now. It’s a never-ending circle; a whole dance of circles within circles. All we have to do is find the right circle.”

  Sarah and I looked at each other, still not understanding but willing to follow. Helen had opened the Seal, and was a daughter of air, the greatest of all the elements, the breath of life. We would follow wherever she went, if she would let us.

  Helen began to walk slowly around the pool, chanting, “Holy wind of peace, come to us now, as soft as the breath of innocent children.” As she walked, the air sprang into life, swirling in a shimmering circle of glinting colors. She smiled at us. “Dear Sarah and Evie—lend me your gifts.”

  Sarah slowly followed Helen, circling the pool, and as she walked she opened her hands, and fresh green leaves fell from them, scenting the air as she walked. “Leaves from the living tree, earth’s gifts, heal and bless us, from sunrise to sunset.”

  Then I made my circle too. I closed my fingers around the Talisman and silently asked Agnes to help me. “Fire and water, flame and river,” I chanted, “burn brightly, flow sweetly; set our hearts on fire and quench our thirst for what is right and true.” A circle of soft flames flickered and shone at the edge of the pool, floating on the water and reflecting in its glassy depths.

  “Thank you.” Helen squeezed our hands and suddenly looked straight at us. “Whatever happens, I want you to know—” She stopped, then struggled to say what was on her mind. “If things change, if I have to go away…”

  “What is it, Helen?” Sarah said gently. “What are you trying to tell us?”

  “Nothing.” Helen hugged us both in turn, and then let us go. Tears glimmered in her eyes, but she smiled and said, “What was it I used to say—all shall be well? I truly believe that now, even if I can’t see everything that is to come. Let’s carry on.”

  She raised her arms and said, “I summon the world of what might have been. I am the Keeper of the Seal. Let the previous Keeper come to me from the circle of Time, and take back what was hers.” She leaned over the pool of water and reached up to the iron bell, and struck it lightly. It gave out an echoing sound, like the memory of a song. Then Helen unfastened the Seal from her clothes and held it over the pool. “I sacrifice this Key to unlock the door of Time.”

  Helen let the golden brooch fall from her hands, and it plummeted into the pool, making ripples of ever-widening circles on the black surface of the water. The sound of the bell grew louder and more insistent. A pinpoint of light shone far above us, impossibly far away at the top of the deep place that we stood in, and then we saw the moon reflected in the pool. It waxed and waned before our eyes, many times, and the leaves that Sarah had scattered in her circle withered away and turned into dust.

  A shape began to emerge from the depths of the pool and from the secret circles of Time. It seemed at first to be made of mists and shadows; then the mists swirled and we saw that a woman was standing on the water, poised under the arch. It was Celia Hartle, but as I had never seen her before. She was young and beautiful, and her dark eyes gleamed with intelligence and curiosity. And there was something else about her—a quick, bright hunger that seemed to fill her with inner light. She was holding the Seal, and she looked down at it in wonder, turning it in her hands.

  “You have shown me many strange things,” she murmured, as though speaking to the Seal. “Is this one more vision to t
empt me to give up everything I have ever known for you?”

  Helen fell to her knees. “Listen to me,” she pleaded. “I am the daughter you will never have, if you follow the Seal and choose your rightful destiny. If you reject this gift, you will suffer for it, and so will the world. You are called to be great, to be high and pure and noble, to be a Guardian of the Seal. Turn your back on the life you know and follow your destiny.”

  The young Celia looked at Helen in wonder. “But I have been told that to do that I would give up all chance of the happiness of this world. Love, marriage…children…the ordinary miracles…And you…you would be my daughter….” Then a shadow passed over her face. “If I accept the Seal, you won’t be born.”

  “I know. I am willing to become only a might have been. I would give up everything, even my existence, so that you will bring light and not darkness into the waiting world.”

  “Helen!” Sarah gasped. “No—you can’t do this—”

  “I can and I will. It’s the only way to stop all the pain and the danger.” Helen smiled, with only a trace of sadness in her eyes. “I never really fit into life, did I? This way, everything that I might have been, or done, will be forgotten, like a dream. And…and if there had ever been anyone else…if he’s not…well, he won’t remember.” She took a deep breath. “He won’t be hurt by my loss. No one will remember. No one will grieve. All shall be well.” She turned back to her mother and urged her: “Claim the Seal. Embrace its gifts. Do it now.”

  Celia Hartle seemed to be strengthened by her daughter’s words. She held the brooch up, and it seemed as though she was bathed in golden light. But before she could speak, a rumbling shook the chamber and the Priestess appeared, wreathed in darkness and flickering fire. This was the Celia Hartle we knew now, and she was unrecognizable as her younger self; her greed and hatred had disfigured her beyond all hope. She began to pace around the edges of our circles, glaring at us in turn.

  “Stop this!” she commanded. “I guessed you were trying to slip away to betray me, but my Dark King is all-seeing. He granted me the power to follow you here and stop you. Give the Seal to me!”

  “I am trying to give it to you, truly,” Helen said. “If only you would believe me.”

  “By digging up my past? How dare you meddle with choices of others, Helen, when you have made such poor choices yourself?”

  “You know my choice,” replied Helen steadily. “It is to reject you and your ways utterly, and always has been. But even now, I forgive you.” She stood up. “I forgive you everything. And that makes me free of you. Lynton was right, and so was Miss Scratton. I no longer hate you, or crave your love. I don’t need you anymore. I just want the light to shine and the darkness to be destroyed. That’s what gives me the strength to give everything up—even the person I love most—so that you can be saved.”

  “Oh, and I suppose I am to be grateful for that?” the Priestess sneered. “So I have to fall into line and fit in with your ideas of what is right and wrong? I turn into some kind of saintly fool and owe everything to my savior Helen, everlastingly humble and thankful? Well, I don’t want your forgiveness or your second chances. All I want is what is mine!” She leaned forward, her arms outstretched.

  “Don’t cross the circles of Time!” Helen shouted warningly.

  But the Priestess wasn’t listening. A red light of famished hunger glared in her eyes. “Even in the battle I heard the Seal calling to me, from my past. And now it will be mine again, but I will also have everything I’ve learned since those days of foolish, groping innocence. Give it to me!”

  She leaped forward and stepped onto the wall surrounding the deep pool. With a cry of triumph, the warped husk of Celia Hartle snatched the Seal from the hands of her former self. A great crack of lightning tore though the chamber, striking the bell and making it toll. The younger Celia staggered back and vanished. The Priestess stood balanced for a moment on the wall, holding the Seal with a gloating expression on her face. Then the light from it intensified and burned white hot, too dazzling to look at. It seemed to run across her body like licking flames. The Priestess began to shudder, and the waters of the pool began to swirl. She was alight with a great and radiant power, a power so overwhelming that it was tearing her to pieces. She screamed…. I turned away, not wanting to see the end, but in that instant the wretched being was sucked into the whirlpool of Time. The Seal spun from her grasp as Celia Hartle sank out of sight into those deep mystical waters, and out of our lives forever.

  We waited, hardly daring to breathe, and when I looked at Helen I saw that she was crying, and that the Seal was clasped in her hands. Sarah went over and put her arms around Helen, as though she was soothing a child.

  “It’s over,” Sarah said. “It’s over. She can’t harm you anymore.”

  “I know—I just can’t take it all in,” Helen replied shakily.

  “But what happened to her?” I asked, still not fully understanding.

  “You cannot meet yourself in the circles of Time and hope to survive,” Helen replied. “Besides, the power of the unveiled Seal was far too much for her. Celia Hartle had diminished over the years, and not grown. She couldn’t touch it without being destroyed.” The tears welled up in her eyes again. “I wish it didn’t have to be like that.”

  “You did everything you could to try to help her, Helen,” Sarah said earnestly. “You even offered yourself—your whole life—so that she could have a second chance, but she brought her destruction on herself in the end.”

  “I know.” Helen let out a long breath as though a great burden was falling from her. “But—oh Sarah—Evie—has she truly passed into death now? Is she free of the shadows? Is there any hope for her in the next world?”

  I shrugged and took Helen’s hand. “I don’t really know. But there’s always hope, isn’t there?”

  “Yes.” She sighed. “We have to believe that.”

  We moved away from the pool. There was nothing more we could do there, and we got ready to leave.

  “There’s just one more question,” Sarah said. “You said you were prepared to give up the person you love best, Helen. So who would that be—me or Evie?” She gave a faint smile. “Or a certain musician?”

  Helen blushed and looked away. “Not all stories have a happy ending,” she murmured.

  “But there’s always hope?”

  Helen smiled self-consciously in return. “Yes, Miss Fitzalan, there’s always hope.” Then she was suddenly serious again. “But we have to get back to Cal and Josh and Velvet. I hope that now the Priestess is…gone, her followers will lose the will to carry on. Let’s hope this madness is over at last.”

  We climbed the spiral staircase up to the crypt until our legs ached, and replaced the stone over the entrance to it. I wondered if anyone would ever use it again, and in what desperate circumstances they might seek out the crack of Time under Wyldcliffe’s ruins. But for us, it was nearly over. We just had to get back to our friends and hope that now we could look to the future, not the past.

  One of the passages from the underground crypt led to the grotto. Sarah led the way, commanding any fallen rocks and stones that blocked the way to move aside and let us pass. It felt as though there was nothing we couldn’t do now. We quickly reached the grotto’s familiar cavern and ran out into the grounds. The night was far advanced, and the sky was as black as a raven’s wing, but there was a glow of light in the school ahead. I thought for one moment that the ballroom had been brilliantly lit for a party, and then I realized the awful truth. That wasn’t the welcoming glow of candles and party lights. There was a dull flare of flame and smoke. Drifting on the night air was the distant sound of screaming. This was the Priestess’s final act of revenge.

  Wyldcliffe was burning.

  Thirty-two

  THE WITNESS OF SARAH FITZALAN

  Wyldcliffe was burning. We stared in horror, spellbound, at the dull red light that glared and flickered from the ballroom, then began to run toward the
school. We had only one thought, to get there in time, to stop whatever was happening and get everyone out before it was too late.

  We tore open a side door, then raced through the deserted building, heading for the red corridor and the locked ballroom. There was the sound of fists beating on the inside, girls desperate to open the doors and escape. I laid my hand on the carved wood and spoke to the tree it had once been, asking it to open for us, but I was thrown back. Some greater spell held sway. “Helen, you’ll have to help us,” I said, and she quickly took our hands in hers. In a brief swirl of light and energy we passed through the air and into the ballroom.

  A scene of madness was waiting for us. The battle was still raging. There were the wild riders fighting on one side and the coven fighting back, and burning torches and broken glass everywhere. One of the long drapes at the far end of the room had caught fire. The terrified girls were trying to escape through the shattered windows, but they were beaten back by the haggard figures of the Dead. Cal was fighting desperately with three hooded women, and Josh was trying to hold off an attack from Miss Dalrymple and Miss Schofield.

  Above all the noise and confusion Dr. Franzen was screaming, “Celia, no, my darling, no…come back…where are you?” But his screams died away into silence, and there was no one to answer him.

  He must have loved her, in his own sick way, because his face had changed, as if he had grown old since we had last seen him. “She’s gone…she’s gone…,” he wept. Then he gave a deep, inhuman groan and snatched up his stick. Ignoring us, he strode through the crowd, shoving people aside until he came to Velvet. He pointed his cane, and a tongue of blue lightning shot out and hit her in the chest. Her eyes rolled and she gasped, then staggered back unconscious. And as Velvet fell, the Wild Hunt vanished like mist now that she was no longer awake to summon them. The windows they had shattered sealed up again, trapping everyone inside. The Dark Sisters cheered and whooped as the Wild Hunt disappeared from sight, but they didn’t celebrate for long.