“Are you okay?” Gabrielle was behind me, pulling my hair away from my face, her voice full of concern. I felt her tracing the outline of the Mark with her finger as she held my hair.
“Of course I’m not okay,” I snapped, pushing her hand away. I wiped my mouth and forced myself to stand and face her.
“Is that it?” I demanded, my voice cold. “Is that what you’ve come to tell me? That the one person on Earth who understands me, the person I love, has to die?”
“Oh, Hope,” Gabrielle sighed. Her wings drooped. “I had believed you would understand.”
“I understand that this sucks,” I snorted, brushing by her.
I started stomping up the path. We were higher now, and I wasn’t exactly sure where I was, but I had to get out of here. I pulled my jacket tightly around me and began climbing.
“Hope, wait!” Gabrielle called after me, but I ignored her. I focused my eyes on the rocky path before me, determined to get away.
I turned the corner and there she stood, slightly higher than me in the middle of the trail, blocking my path.
“I haven’t finished delivering my message,” she stated, her eyes flashing like flame.
I stopped in my tracks, frightened and mesmerized all at once.
Gabrielle didn’t wait for me to respond. Instead, she spread her wings so wide that she filled the entire path and launched into her message.
“Without love and pain, there is no sacrifice. Nor is there sacrifice without foreknowledge. Michael cannot redeem the Fallen without assent. He must knowingly go to his death. You must tell him what you know for the Prophecy to be fulfilled.”
Anger rose up like bile in my throat.
“And if I refuse?”
She looked down at me with an unreadable expression. “There is always a choice. You are marked as the Bearer. It is by your hand that Michael will feel love and loss, as well as betrayal and death. But even though it is foretold, you still have a choice. If you choose poorly, the Fallen will be condemned forever.”
I stood there, paralyzed by the decision I had to make, confused by her words. How could anything I ever do amount to betrayal? How could Michael die at my hands? I would never kill Michael. If it were in my power, I would fight to the death to prevent it.
But could I condemn the others?
I brushed aside her words, struggling to voice my feelings.
“I’ve just been a pawn in your game of heavenly politics,” I argued. “I have no choice.”
Gabrielle chided me, her eyes decidedly frosty as she gazed down at me. “You could have left at any point, Hope. You never even tried.”
“They would have come after me,” I parried back.
She arched a perfect brow. “You can fool yourself with your excuses, but not me.”
Desperate, I lashed out, tears clouding my vision. “I could go now! I could run away and then the Prophecy could never come true!”
She took a step closer, stretching out a hand to me. “Now that the Fallen know who you are, they will stop at nothing to get you. The thought of their revenge will spur them on, even if they have no idea what it is that they are chasing.”
Frustrated, I flung myself down onto the ground.
“I don’t know how to tell him, Gabrielle,” I cried plaintively, my tears sinking into the moss and stone beneath me. “I can’t. I could barely even speak to him these last few days.”
Gabrielle floated down the path and sank down to me, surrounding me in the protective shelter of her wings. “There is a way,” she murmured, holding me close. “You have noticed by now, surely, how you can feel each other’s emotions, read each other’s thoughts, when you hold one another close?”
I nodded.
She gave my arm a squeeze. “Your powers are growing.”
I lashed out. “Growing at Michael’s expense.”
She diplomatically ignored my outburst. “You move toward equilibrium, you and him. You become stronger, he becomes weaker, until you find stasis. Until you are equals in all things, as God intends you to be. Use the power he gives you. Open your thoughts, and your heart, to him. Sometimes it is easier than speaking aloud the words that cause us so much pain. You will find that Michael will understand the things you keep in your heart—that you may even draw strength from each other. If you give him a chance.”
She rose up and stepped away from me, gazing on me with something that amounted to awe.
“Be strong, Hope Carmichael. All Heaven awaits your decision.” She closed her eyes and folded her wings in about herself. The winds gusted, and in an explosion of light, she vanished from the path.
I sat on the hard ground, watching the empty space she left behind.
Sacrifice. Love.
Choice. Fate.
Which of these was most powerful? Or were they simply different sides of the same coin? I wrapped my arms around my knees and rocked, unable to face the decision that, one way or another, I was bound to make.
The crunch of gravel behind me alerted me that I was no longer alone.
“Hope?”
Michael’s voice was tentative.
I wiped my cheeks, hoping he wouldn’t notice I’d been crying.
“I’m here,” I answered.
“I was worried. You’d been gone so long. Did Gabrielle leave you alone?”
I pushed myself up from the path and wiped my dirty hands against my pants. I took a deep breath before turning to face him.
“She left a little while ago.” I hoped he didn’t hear the tremor in my voice as I spoke to him.
His look was inquisitive and concerned at the same time. “Did she give you her message?”
I looked at him—looked at him really hard, realizing I could never look at him the same way again. He was as disheveled and worn out as I felt, the wounds from his wrestling match still fresh. His handsome grace was being eaten away by worry. His eyes were dull, almost lifeless, from constant pain and lack of sleep. His face had been whittled down to its bones by guilt and distrust.
I was the reason. And yet, I had one more blow to deliver.
I shook my head, unable to hold back the sobs that were wracking my body. I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t talk to him—not yet, not now. Blindly, I turned and began running up the path, feeling my way along the rocky wall of the Skellig as I tripped along rocks and stones.
“Hope! Wait!”
I ignored his cries, picking up the pace to increase the distance between us.
I mounted the crest and found myself in a grassy, windswept knoll, the wide expanse ending abruptly in a sheer cliff. A narrow stone formation forming a doorway through the cliff was the only way out. I ran over to the gap and peered in, then down. It was a tunnel. And it had no bottom. I kicked a pebble, sending it careening over the edge, and watched it fall until I could no longer see it.
“Wait!”
I looked over my shoulder to see Michael. Without thinking, I eased my back, then my feet, up against the walls of the rock tunnel and began climbing, carefully sliding my feet and shoulders against the walls to push myself slowly up the twisting corridor away from Michael.
“Are you insane?” Michael called after me, his voice echoing against the stone walls. “Get down from there!”
I laughed hysterically. Yes, I am insane, I thought, pushing myself ever higher. I am in love with an angel. Every minute I spend with him keeps him away from the ones he should be protecting, the ones he is sworn to guard. And every minute I am with him brings us closer to the moment when I must deliver him unto his death.
My foot slid a little against the rock and I froze. Slowly, I looked down. I saw the dizzying slice of gray sky and sea spiraling away far below me and nearly fainted.
It would be so easy, I thought as my body tensed. So easy to just let go.
But instead I climbed, higher and higher, squeezing my body through the thin gap of rock that proffered my only chance of escape. Pushing ever harder against the smooth, slippery rock, I refused to
give up.
By the time a light opened up at the top of the tunnel, I was shaking with the strain of carrying my body weight. Sweaty and weak, I barely hoisted myself over the lip of the tunnel onto the hard stone cliff.
Gasping, I pulled my body out of the gap and lay on the stone to catch my breath. The rock was rough and cool beneath my cheek. Around me I could hear the whipping winds.
I was alone.
I pushed myself up and looked around. A small shelter filled the bulk of a tiny cave. Nothing but a neat, hand-lettered sign reading “Caution” marked the site, which jutted out in a narrow promontory into the dark sky.
I heard scuffling behind me—the sounds of Michael climbing after me.
“Stay away!” I turned and shouted into the hole from which I’d just emerged. “I want to be alone!”
“It’s not safe, Hope,” he yelled back. “I’m coming after you.”
Tears stung my eyes. He was coming to save me, when there was nothing I could do to save him.
I backed away from the mouth of the stone tunnel, willing him to go away. When he emerged, puffing from the exertion, I stepped onto the promontory.
“Don’t come any closer,” I warned him as he pulled himself out of the hole and stood up. I stepped over the “Caution” sign, as if daring him to follow me.
He froze, eyeing me cautiously.
“This isn’t the place for you, Hope,” he said, shouting to be heard above the wind.
“You don’t know,” I shouted back. “You don’t know anything. Just leave me alone!”
He raised his hands, spreading his fingers wide as he cautiously stepped forward. “I know how this place came to be,” he said, gesturing about him at the tiny shelter. “I know what happened to the monk who lived here. He refused the help of his brethren. He allowed himself to sink under the weight of loneliness and isolation. Whether he fell or jumped, he plunged to his death, dying alone.”
He made a move toward me, and I took a step back, inching closer to the ledge.
“Careful,” he warned, his eyes growing dark as the sky.
I looked behind me. My sneaker was a mere inch from the edge. Little bits of gravel and dirt were falling away from the rock, plummeting into the wild sea that churned and frothed below us.
“Come to me, Hope,” Michael pleaded, holding out his hand. “I’m tired of this wall between us.”
I looked at his hand, tears running down my face.
For God’s sake, step away from the ledge, Henri hissed. You’ll be no good to anyone if you’re dead.
I wiped my face, willing Henri away as I chanted to myself, Get out of my head, Get out of my head, Get out of my head.
A gust of wind shook the cliff, and I froze, afraid to move.
“It’s okay,” Michael coaxed, moving closer to me with outstretched arms. “Just one foot in front of the other. I’ll be right here, ready to catch you.”
My knees were shaking as I forced myself to move. My feet felt heavy as I shuffled them, one at a time, moving away from the ledge, bit by bit, until I passed the “Caution” sign. As soon as I did, Michael dashed forward and grabbed me by the shoulders, wrapping me in a big hug.
“Don’t ever do that again,” he murmured against my hair as I collapsed into his arms. His warmth cut through the layers of my clothes, heating me to my very core, as we stood holding one another under the stormy sky. I wanted this to be all there was. Just me and him, holding each other tight, but I knew it could never be that simple. Not for us.
He pushed me away to search my eyes, holding my shoulders fast. I braced myself for an onslaught of questions, but he surprised me.
“With these winds, I’m afraid to stay here too long. Are you strong enough to descend? Can you make it, Hope?”
I hesitated. The very thought of climbing back down made me exhausted, but I shuddered at the thought of sheltering in that cave. I knew we had to get down before night set in. I nodded, grateful for his kindness.
“Good girl,” he said, stroking my face. “We’ll go down together. Just take a moment and catch your breath.”
As soon as I was ready, we began the descent. Slowly, we inched our way back down the rock tunnel. I was tired and sore, but the effort of focusing on the climb distracted me from the bigger fears that were looming in my head and heart.
We emerged unscathed and kept climbing down to the boat, walking in silence down the path, through the empty monastery, and back down the rock steps cut into the walls of the Skellig. Michael led the way, making sure the path was clear and safe as we descended and blessedly leaving me to brood in silence. He began questioning me only after nightfall, when we were well on our way down the rock-hewn steps.
“Did Gabrielle tell you where to find the Key?”
“No,” I said, surprised in retrospect that it hadn’t even come up. “Should I have asked her?”
“It wouldn’t have mattered if you did,” he answered. “She tells what she is supposed to tell. No more. No less. If she didn’t tell you, she means for us to find out on our own.”
I didn’t comment on his observation. I supposed we would wait for something to strike us, some insistent pull or flash of insight that would reveal to us where we were to go. For now, we were running blind.
“I don’t blame you, you know,” Michael continued, his voice gentle. “I mean for not finding the Key here on the Skellig. We were obviously meant to come since she was waiting for us. Her message must have been very important.”
I felt my throat constrict as I remembered all she had shared with me.
“I can’t talk about it now,” I said, my voice hoarse.
There was a long pause. “That’s all right,” he said, his voice flat with disappointment. “We’re almost to the boat.”
“Michael?” I asked, hesitating. My mind returned to the moment I’d stood frozen at the edge of the cliff.
“Yes?”
“What happened after the monk fell?”
“The monastery made a rule that monks could not remove themselves from community. They learned the hard way that it is not good to bear one’s burdens alone. Don’t make the same mistake, Hope.”
His soft reprimand echoed in my ears as we descended the last few steps and emerged by the dock. We’d been gone too long. The sun was low in the horizon, nearly set, and darkness was pressing in from all sides.
Del was sitting on the dock smoking his pipe, an abandoned crate his makeshift chair. He cocked an eyebrow at the cuts and bruises on Michael’s face and gave us a good once-over before speaking.
“Can’t leave in the dark. Double charge for overnighting,” he said without malice. “We’ll be wanting to leave as early as possible in the morning. I already radioed into Portmagee to let them know. Wouldn’t want them sending out a search party for naught. I don’t have accommodations for you all onboard,” he said, sweeping his hand behind him in a grand gesture. “But I do know where to find the key to the old lighthouse. You can sleep there overnight.”
I was too drained to argue or ask questions, grateful to have someone take charge. I followed obediently as he gathered us up and began leading the way.
Enoch scuttled over, pulling me away from Michael as we trekked back up the Skellig the short distance to the lighthouse. He lingered behind, waiting for Michael to be out of earshot before peppering me with alarmed questions.
“What happened up there?” he asked. “Did you encounter the Fallen? Are you hurt, too? And why isn’t Michael healing?”
The barrage only made me wearier. “No, we didn’t find Lucas or any of the others. As for the rest, you’ll have to ask Michael,” I answered despondently, pushing away from him and leaving him to struggle alone up the rocky path. More climbing. I trotted, puffing out warm clouds of breath into the cold night air until I caught up with the others. Del shot me a sharp look, but kept his counsel as I rejoined them.
When Del had said “old lighthouse,” I’d expected a spooky relic, abandoned and worn.
Instead, as we approached the cliff, I saw a more modern structure shooting out its beam of light, a beacon of warmth in the cold, sterile night.
“Fully automated now,” Del huffed as we climbed closer. “Used to have whole families operating this one or, even earlier, the one on the other side of the island. Now it is all done with a switch from the mainland. The only keepers to come out here now are the ones coming out for prescheduled maintenance. But the rooms are still there and will keep you dry and warm as you sleep. Better than bunking down on the Wild Goose.”
We’d gotten to the base of the lighthouse. The wind was whipping all about us, the cold cutting deep into our bones. We were in for a long, wet night. Del dug around behind a staircase and presented a key with a flourish.
“Don’t be telling your neighbors about this key,” he said, winking. “Or they’ll all be wanting to spend the night at the lighthouse.”
He hastened to the door, which opened with a gigantic creak. “In you go,” he ordered, nodding to me to do the honors.
Cautiously, I stepped over the threshold. It was so dark inside I couldn’t make out anything but a vague sense of the room’s dimensions. Michael followed closely on my heels, and then Enoch, panting from the effort of climbing the hill.
“Here, this should help,” Del said as he came inside. He flicked on his flashlight and shone it around the circular space. The room was small and tidy, a thin layer of dust covering all of its surfaces. A ladder that ran up to the second floor cut the room in two.
“The beds should be on the next level,” Del informed us. He flicked some light switches on and off, to no avail. “I wouldn’t go up beyond that or you’ll risk messing with the equipment, which will make you none too popular with the safety commission. There are probably some kerosene lamps in the cupboard over there. Be careful with them—would hate to lose you in a fire.” He cracked his fingers and held them out. “Heat’s not on, but the upstairs has a wood stove, which should help. You know how to light a fire, I gather?”
He didn’t wait for our answer as he prepared himself to leave.
Dark Rising Page 21