Ben followed the woman through a dimly lit hallway. There were wooden panels and dark paintings on the walls – some portraits, some landscapes, one a bizarre picture of a demon sitting on a bed beside a sleeping woman.
The woman’s high heels clicked on the floor as she led the way briskly down a corridor. Ben wondered who she was, but just as he was about to ask her, she said, ‘I’m so sorry, Ben, I didn’t introduce myself. You must think me very rude. I’m Mrs Bailey. I look after the house and manage Mr Knight’s business. I look after the other children too.’
‘Other children?’
The corridor ended at a large kitchen. One wall was taken up with a wide black cooking range. There was a bare wooden table in the middle of the stone-flagged floor. Saucepans and other cooking utensils hung on racks from the ceiling. A microwave stood incongruously on a worktop, close to an equally out-of-place large aluminium fridge.
‘Soup,’ Mrs Bailey declared. ‘And if you sit here by the range, you’ll soon warm through.’
She pulled a chair out from the table and angled it for Ben to sit in.
Ben was shivering. He hadn’t realised how cold – and afraid – he was until he felt the warmth from the stove. He almost collapsed into the chair, the sleeve of his jacket catching a china jug close to the edge of the table as he moved.
But Mrs Bailey’s hand was already outstretched, ready to catch the jug before it fell. She must have seen what was about to happen. She steadied the jug, moving it out of the way.
‘I’ll get you some soup first. Then I’ll tell Mr Knight you’re here,’ she said.
*
The warmth from the range slowly seeped into Ben’s bones. His hands were cupped round a mug of thick vegetable soup. It was so hot from the microwave that he could only sip at it. But the soup was tasty and before long Ben was feeling much better.
He wished Sam was with him. When he looked up from his soup and saw there was a figure watching from the door to the corridor, for the briefest moment he thought it was Sam.
But it was the girl who had come with Knight to the home. Gemma. She was leaning against the door frame, her arms folded, head tilted to one side. There was someone else behind her, another child Ben couldn’t see clearly. He could just make out that it was a boy – dark-skinned, with pale eyes that gleamed in the shadows.
‘He doesn’t have any aura at all,’ Gemma said to the boy, as if Ben wasn’t there. ‘Why’s he come?’
Ben wasn’t sure what to say. Didn’t she know he could hear what she said.
Another voice – an older girl’s – called from back down the corridor. It sounded bossy and irritated. ‘Come away from there. You’re not supposed to be down here. Come on.’
The boy turned and walked quickly away. Gemma pushed herself away from the door frame with a nudge of her shoulder.
‘See you,’ she said to Ben, and smiled. Then she turned and ran after the boy.
Moments later, another girl appeared – Ben guessed it was the girl who had called out to them and told them to go away. She was older – older than Sam too. Her dark hair hung in curls to her shoulders and she had the kind of mouth that curled downwards in a sort of perpetual sneer.
‘Have you come to look at me as well?’ Ben asked.
She sniffed. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Though I don’t know why I bothered.’
Ben turned away, taking a sip of his soup. When he looked back, she had gone.
The man in the suit arrived a few minutes later.
*
Knight’s study was a mixture of the orderly and the chaotic. There were piles of books and papers, shelves of books and CDs and DVDs and computer disks. Almost every surface seemed to be covered. Display cases contained everything from fossils to a long-bladed knife, gold coins to a human skull, a roll of yellowed parchment tied with faded red ribbon to intricate figures carved from bone or ivory …
Ben noticed little of it. He sat nervously on the edge of an upright chair in front of Knight’s enormous mahogany desk. The top of the desk was the only surface that was relatively clear – a leather-bound notebook, a closed laptop computer, a mobile phone, a pad of paper and a silver fountain pen.
Behind the desk, Knight leaned back in his chair, his elbows resting on the wooden armrests, his fingertips touching.
‘Ben Foundling,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘If you’re looking for your sister, I’m afraid I can’t help you.’
‘I think you can,’ Ben said, surprised at how defiant and confident he sounded.
‘Not directly. But there are other ways.’ Knight leaned forward, transferring his elbows to the desk as he regarded Ben carefully. ‘Gemma tells me you have no aura at all. Certainly I saw nothing when we met the other week. Your sister, though …’ He frowned. ‘Or are you so powerful it’s somehow hidden from us? Is that it?’
ds
‘Before I tell you anything, I need to know what your abilities are. Your potential. I didn’t even test you before, did I?’
Ben remembered watching from the gallery – the test with the box. Knight couldn’t know he’d seen what happened. So he said nothing.
Knight tapped his fingertips together several times before seeming to make up his mind. ‘Wait here a moment,’ he said. ‘I won’t be long.’ He got to his feet and strode from the room, leaving the door slightly open behind him.
‘What do I do?’ Ben murmured out loud. If he failed this test, Knight would send him back to the home …
He wondered what Sam would do. But then he realised he didn’t need to wonder. He’d already seen the test. He knew what she’d done.
Ben gasped as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Startled, he turned sharply – and saw it was Gemma. She was looking down at him sadly.
‘He’ll send you back,’ she said quietly. ‘Why did you come here?’
Ben said nothing. The girl shrugged and walked over to the desk. A few moments later, Knight returned. He was carrying the wooden box that Ben remembered from the home. He put it down carefully on the desk.
‘I’m going to ask you to look at something, Ben,’ Knight said. ‘That’s all. Nothing difficult.’
It sounded like a well-rehearsed speech, something the man had said a hundred times to a thousand children over the years …
Ben nodded, not daring to speak. But he forced himself to look at Knight, and Gemma, and the box.
Knight was holding the large key. He unlocked the box and murmured a few words. Ben caught only some of them: ‘Effrego expositus libere …’
Then Knight carefully lifted the lid. Ben stood up, so he could see. Knight tilted the box forward slightly so that Ben could see right inside. Gemma was watching Ben intently, like a hunting animal.
Ben thought back to when Sam did the test. He remembered watching from the gallery as Knight opened the box.
The empty box. Just like Charlie and Big Jim had told him, it was completely empty.
Ben put his hands to his face, still staring into the box, and screamed for all he was worth.
10
HE SCREAMED SO HARD HIS EYES WATERED. Tears ran down his face and his stomach was heaving. But Ben could see Knight nodding with grim satisfaction. Mrs Bailey was there, running to take Ben’s arm and lead him away. Someone – another grown-up – took his other arm, but he didn’t see who it was. He just concentrated on the screaming until his throat was raw and his lungs were exhausted.
It wasn’t just his lungs that were exhausted. Slipping away from the home the previous night seemed weeks ago. His legs could barely support him now as he was helped upstairs. Ben collapsed on to a soft bed. Mrs Bailey pulled a duvet up over him and he was asleep before she let go.
Hours, or perhaps days, later Ben woke. He was still tired. The curtains were drawn, so he guessed it was dark outside. But the bedside light was on. He was in a large bed in a big square room. The room was sparsely furnished – just a bedside locker, a little dressing table with a mirror, a chest of drawers and a narrow wardrobe. All
the furniture was made from a dark, reddish wood.
Gemma was sitting on the edge of Ben’s bed, swinging her feet. She spoke without looking at him.
‘What do you see?’
‘Just a room,’ he said, confused. ‘What should I see?’
‘No. What do you see?’
Ben pulled himself up so he was sitting and looked round again.
‘You’re funny,’ Gemma said. Now she did look at Ben, and she smiled. ‘I see everything,’ she said, and there was sadness in her words. ‘But you’re all right here, at the school. Nothing can get in unless Mr Knight lets it. What you saw inside the box can’t get out. It’s sealed in tight. Actually, I think it likes it in there. Scaring kids who can see it.’
Ben didn’t answer. He didn’t want to give her any clue that he hadn’t actually seen anything in the box.
‘I didn’t used to like to talk about it,’ Gemma went on. ‘None of us did. But you’re safe here with us. With your friends.’ She jumped down from the bed and gave him a quick wave and a grin. ‘Bye.’
He drifted off to sleep again. This time he was woken by the sound of whispering close by.
‘His sister?’ a voice was saying. It had a faint accent.
‘That’s what Gemma said. Anyway, we shouldn’t be here.’
Ben sat up again, rubbing sleep from his eyes. ‘Who are you – what do you want?’ he demanded.
A boy and a girl were standing there. He’d seen them both before, when he was drinking his soup in the kitchen. The boy looked Indian, with a round face and short black hair that was spiky at the front. He seemed to be a bit older than Ben. The girl was about eighteen, he thought, and still had a half-sneer as she stared back at Ben.
‘I’m Rupam,’ the boy said. ‘This is Maria.’
‘What are you doing here? What do you want?’
‘We could ask you that,’ Maria said. ‘Why did you come?’
‘I want to know what happened to my sister,’ Ben said. They’d mentioned Sam – maybe they knew something.
But the girl just shrugged. ‘Never met her.’
‘Gemma might know,’ the boy – Rupam – suggested.
‘She doesn’t know anything,’ Maria snapped, and Ben sensed that Rupam’s comment had annoyed her. ‘We shouldn’t be here,’ she said again, turning and walking briskly from the room.
Rupam grinned at Ben and gave him a wave. ‘See you.’
*
Mrs Bailey brought Ben clean clothes and told him that Mr Knight would like to see him as soon as he felt up to it.
Ben swallowed. He nodded but said nothing. Had he been found out? Did they realise he was here under false pretences – wherever here was and whatever he was pretending?
There was a bathroom next door to Ben’s room. He had a shower and changed his clothes. He was feeling more awake now. He wondered where Sam was right now …
Knight was waiting for him in a large drawing room at the back of the house. A log fire was burning enthusiastically in a large open grate. Knight sat in an armchair, his legs outstretched, reading a book. As Mrs Bailey led Ben into the room, Knight closed the book and set it down on a small table beside his chair. Ben couldn’t read the title – it was printed in faded gold on the scuffed leather binding.
‘Well now, young man,’ Knight said, gesturing for Ben to sit in the chair on the other side of the stone fireplace. ‘Have you come to join us?’
‘I’ve come to find out what happened to Sam.’
‘Your sister?’
Ben nodded. ‘You tested her, with that box. Then she disappeared.’
‘I had nothing to do with that,’ Knight said quietly. ‘And, although it probably doesn’t help, I’m very sorry.’
Ben looked away, staring at the flickering shapes of the flames in the hearth. ‘I know. I heard you talking to Mr Magill.’
Knight said nothing for several moments. The silence was broken only by the crackling of the burning wood. Ben glanced at Knight and saw that he too was staring into the flames.
‘The Judgement Box,’ Knight said at last, ‘tells me if the children I test have an ability. If they can see. Most can’t, of course. But some, a few, have the ability. Maybe they live with it every day. Or maybe they don’t even know they have it. You, for example …’
He turned to look at Ben. His eyes were deep and dark, and Ben felt the man could see into every corner of his mind.
‘Me?’
‘You saw what was in the box. But I get the impression it isn’t a constant ability. You have … something. Some talent, evidently. Potential that can be unlocked.’
‘What about Sam?’ Ben demanded.
‘Ah … Your sister was unique. Even I could see she had an aura, an ability. And it’s years since …’ He sighed and turned away again, staring at the fire once more. ‘I think your sister had a far stronger ability, a far clearer Sight, than anyone else I have come across. Even Maria when she was younger. Even Gemma.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘I mean she saw them all the time. Every waking moment. It must have affected her very deeply. When did she start?’ he asked.
‘Start?’ Ben wasn’t sure what he was talking about.
‘When did she start to see the demons? The ghosts? The dead?’
As soon as Knight said it, Ben knew he was right. He knew she saw something, but he hadn’t realised exactly what it was. But now he knew that Sam had seen demons and ghosts – each and every day. By the lake, on the bus, in the home … She’d even told him once, he realised. He had laughed and she’d never mentioned it again.
‘She always saw them. Since forever,’ he said. ‘What is this place? What do you do here? Who are you?’
Knight smiled. ‘We do have an official title. But everyone calls us the School of Night. I suppose it’s flattering in a way. I set it up … so long ago. After I lost my own ability …’
He stood up and walked slowly round the back of his chair. He turned so he had his back to the fire.
‘When we are young, we see as children.’ He smiled. ‘I know it sounds obvious. But there is an innocence, a naivety, a willingness to believe that we lose as we grow older. Maybe it’s to do with adolescence, or perhaps it’s just that we learn what we should and shouldn’t believe in. Like ghosts – how many adults believe in ghosts? I mean really believe in them? Yet almost every child is open to the idea. That’s why it’s the children who see them. It’s a world that is later closed off by experience and by reason and logic.’
Ben leaned forward in the chair. ‘You said this place is a school?’
‘We’re between intakes now. But usually there are up to a dozen children here. Sometimes more. The most gifted, the ones with the real Sight. We train them to fulfil their potential – so they can be at the forefront of the battle.’
Ben gaped. ‘Battle?’
‘Most ghosts and spirits are harmless enough. After-images, souls that got left behind. We can help them find rest … But some – some are the creatures of Hell itself. And it’s our job to send them back there.’
Ben could hardly believe what he was hearing, but the man seemed deadly serious.
‘And that would have been Sam’s job?’
‘Oh yes. I don’t know what happened to Sam, but like you I want to find out. She was going to come here. She would have been one of our most powerful soldiers. Like Gemma, she could see everything, all the time. Unfortunately that made her a potential threat to those who don’t want us to exorcise the ghosts and banish the demons. And that’s why I think they took her.’
‘But who took her? And where?’ Ben was on his feet. ‘We have to help her – if she’s in danger!’
Knight put his hand on Ben’s shoulder, calming him. ‘We shall do what we can. But it’s been some time now, Ben. She could be … anywhere.’
‘I saw her,’ Ben blurted out, though he’d meant to keep it secret. ‘By the lake, on my birthday. At least …’ He hesitated. The more he thought about
it, the more uncertain he was of what he had seen. Had Sam really been there? Had he wanted her to keep her promise so badly that he’d just imagined it? ‘I thought I saw her,’ he said. ‘By the lake. And again on the way here. Only a glimpse. But … Maybe it was just wishful thinking.’
‘It happens,’ Knight said softly. ‘When we are hurt so badly, sometimes our minds pretend the hurting is over and that everything’s OK again.’
‘Will you send me back to the home?’
‘Do you want me to?’
He wasn’t sure what he was letting himself in for, but Ben was sure his best chance of finding Sam was to stay close to Knight. Maybe he could persuade the man to organise a proper search. Not like the police.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to go back there.’
‘This is your home now, Ben,’ Knight said. ‘You’re very lucky. Most of the children we train don’t come here to be taught how to use their abilities and what they can do to help. They are identified by agents we have in the schools and the homes, like where you were.’
‘Mr Magill,’ Ben realised. ‘He was working for you all the time!’
‘And he noticed Sam, so he called me. There were several children at the home with potential, but Sam was the most remarkable. Usually, the children who can see are encouraged to develop their powers in secret. At after-school clubs and in tutorials when everyone else thinks they’re learning how to type or doing extra French or playing chess. We have a network of teachers and mentors who train them up, and the children report what they see – the ghosts and the spirits and the demons.’
‘And then what?’
‘As I said, most of the creatures are harmless. But some must be dealt with – either by the children themselves or, in extreme cases, with help from people trained here at the School of Night. Above all, though, our work is secret from most people, and it must stay that way.’
‘Why? Surely if people knew …’
‘Can you imagine? There would be an outcry, then panic or, worse, denial and we’d be closed down. Not everyone believes in what we do. There are always those who think they can tame the demons, that they can use them to further their own aims, to gain influence and wealth. People who will risk everything – their lives, their souls, the world – in the search for power.’
Demon Storm Page 6