Eternal

by Gillian Shields

  “And thank you for this.” I gave the Talisman back to her, then I hugged Josh too. “I couldn’t have saved Evie without you,” I said. “Helen was right. We’re all in this together now.”

  Finally I stood before Cal.

  “Sarah—oh, Sarah,” he said hoarsely, staring at my strange robes. “What have they done to you?”

  “It’s fine, I’m okay—”

  “I thought I was going to go mad, sitting here waiting for you. I wanted to go back down to the caves, but the others stopped me. I couldn’t bear you to face that alone.”

  “I wasn’t alone,” I said. “I was with the Kinsfolk. They are my people now.”

  Cal took the bronze circlet from my hand and placed it gently on my tangled curls. “And you’re my queen,” he said, kissing my forehead and drawing me to him. “Now and always.”

  “For all eternity,” I whispered, and Cal sighed with relief.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get back to the school and away from here.”

  But at that moment there was a deafening rumble of thunder. A shape of thick mist formed in the air, and Mrs. Hartle appeared out of the gloom, wrapped in a fume of fog and bitter ash. The Priestess had returned.

  “How very touching,” she sneered. “How this love of yours makes you all so weak and sentimental. Fortunately, I am not troubled by your infirmity. So you escaped the caves and came to the stone circle. Very well, it makes no difference to me where I take your souls. Here is as good as anywhere else.”

  I couldn’t understand how she had found us, but she seemed to read my thoughts.

  “Laura stood guard unseen in the cavern and heard your secrets,” she went on. “She reported to me and told me of your plans to spoil my own. Oh, it was wrong, Sarah, very wrong to tempt my loyal servants away from me, little earth woman. What will I do with you as a punishment, I wonder?” Her voice drawled as she spoke, but I sensed the rage behind her words. Yet her anger gave me strength, as though it had lit a fire in me.

  “You may be a priestess, but I am a queen now,” I declared proudly. “I have been down into Death and returned with a gift from the living Tree. My people are waiting in the caves below. I don’t take orders from you anymore.”

  “A queen! A queen!” she mocked, glaring at my crown and robe. “For a rabble of savages and a garland of tin?” She drew herself up to her full height. “This time I am not alone. This time my Sisters are with me. And this time there will be no escape.”

  Ranks of cloaked and hooded women were walking silently up the Ridge. They reached the sacred stones and stood in a menacing circle, blocking our way and waiting for instructions from their mistress. Mrs. Hartle raised her hand, and I knew what was coming—the flash of cold fire like a whip that would chain us again as prisoners.

  “You first, child of mud!” she cried, and aimed her first blow at me. But Evie threw herself in the way and held up the Talisman. It caught and broke the force of Mrs. Hartle’s spell into a thousand droplets of light and blasted it back into her face. She screamed with shock and fury. “Take them! Take them and bind them.”

  The Dark Sisters drew long white knives from under their cloaks and came rushing toward us. But creeping behind them were the shapes of men, moving as stealthily as cats.

  “Kundar!” I called. “Defend us now!”

  The Kinsfolk took the coven by surprise, knocking their weapons from their hands and throwing them to the ground. Some of the women fought back, and there was a clash of metal and wood and the terrible screams of battle. The women tried to grab hold of us, as the Kinsfolk formed a protective circle, jabbing at them with their long spears. Then the Dark Sisters drove in heedlessly, throwing themselves wildly onto the spears in their frantic attacks. There was a confused mass of people fighting. I saw Helen knocked to the ground and Cal wielding a battle-ax that belonged to one of the Kinsfolk. Evie and I struggled to reach Helen, desperately plunging through the press of bodies toward her. Then the three of us clasped hands, murmuring protective incantations as we crouched together in the onslaught. But the fury of the coven was no match for the skill and cunning of Kundar’s men, and the Dark Sisters began to lose heart as they were repelled again and again, wounded by the deadly spears.

  Soon many of the women had turned and fled, despite Mrs. Hartle’s frantic commands. Only about half a dozen of them remained, ready to fight to the death for their mistress. I thought I glimpsed Miss Dalrymple’s face among them. Kundar and his men got ready to charge.

  “Wait!” I called, scrambling to my feet. “Wait, Kundar! We don’t want any more bloodshed.” I turned to Mrs. Hartle. “We will never give in, but we don’t want to fight, or hurt your followers. Stop this battle now—go back to your shadows and leave us in peace.”

  An uneasy silence fell. The Dark Sisters looked at their Priestess for guidance.

  “Earth woman!” she spat. “Thing of mud and rocks and dust! You will not tell me what to do! I could crush you in one hand!” she screamed crazily. Then she flung her arms into the air and ground her teeth and muttered, “My master . . . great lord . . . send me your lightless power . . . send me your bitter ashes from beyond the grave. . . .”

  The sky, which had begun to grow lighter, changed. The stars were blotted out. Thick, choking blackness filled the air, and I could hardly breathe. The Kinsfolk groaned and writhed on the ground, and all around me I heard the sounds of my friends gasping for air. Mrs. Hartle cried out in a terrible voice, “AS I WILL IT!” She pointed at us, and fiery sparks shot from her fingers. They turned into monstrous serpents that coiled themselves around us. Cal tried to reach for me, but my arms were pinned to my sides. I couldn’t move. The breath was being squeezed from my lungs. I was going down into death once more. She would win, the Priestess would win and the light would be diminished. That couldn’t happen, I wouldn’t let it. . . .

  Do not be afraid. For some reason I remembered Miss Scratton’s words. Do not be afraid of what you see. They are simply dreams and visions. Remember that, do not be afraid.

  And despite everything that had happened, I believed her. I still believed in Miss Scratton.

  “They’re not real!” I shouted. “They’re just our fears! Don’t be afraid, and she can’t hurt us.” Already I felt the serpents’ coils slipping from me, and the darkness lifted. The next moment my eyes were dazzled by a light coming from the eastern side of the stone circle, and I thought confusedly that the morning had come and it was the sun. But a voice spoke to me out of the light. “Well remembered.” It was a voice I knew. I blinked and saw a woman in a gray robe sitting on a white horse. The light was coming from her.

  “Miss—Miss Scratton?”

  She laughed. “That is not my real name, Sarah. I hope to tell you what it is one day. But first there is work to be done.”

  Then the light dimmed, and Miss Scratton appeared as she always had looked, although there were shadows under her eyes. She rode forward into the circle of jagged stones, and the others saw her too. Mrs. Hartle let out a long hiss at the sight of her, and the snakes crumbled into smoke.

  “You tried to hold me back from my task, Celia,” Miss Scratton said pleasantly, as though greeting a colleague in the staff room, “though you could not keep me away for long. It was ingenious of you and your loyal followers, I admit, faking that car crash and capturing me, making it look as though I had deserted your daughter and her friends. But a faithful messenger was sent to them, one who knew what it was to love even beyond death, and so they found Evie. You must have thought that Evie would be the bait to lure Sarah and Helen into your trap, but together they were more powerful than you can ever be. And as soon as even one of these girls called on me in her heart, I was able to return. I am their Guardian, and I will not let you harm their young hopes.”

  Mrs. Hartle didn’t reply but blasted a spray of black fire at Miss Scratton, who repelled it with a word of Power. The remaining Dark Sisters yelled and launched a fresh attack on the Kinsfolk. Cal and Josh
snatched up fallen clubs and knives from the ground and pressed forward into the battle, trying to keep the women away from us. For a moment I stood paralyzed, watching in horror. Mrs. Hartle and Miss Scratton were fighting in a fury of light and sparks and smoke. I wanted to help, but didn’t know how; then I saw that Miss Scratton was edging her enemy all the time a little nearer to the tallest of the standing stones, the great pillar that pointed up to the heavens like a black finger. An idea flashed into my mind. I dodged one of the women who was lunging toward me and shouted, “Evie! Helen! The Circle! Make a Circle!”

  Evie was still holding the Talisman. She thrust it toward me. “Here, take one side of the chain! Helen, you hold another.” I saw what she was trying to do. We all laced our fingers into the chain so that it was held in a taut silver circle with the Talisman dangling from it.

  “Mysteries of Earth and Air and Water, come to us now,” I called. “Agnes, our sister, help us. Let no harm cross our Circle!”

  “Let no harm fall!” the others echoed. “Help us now!”

  The Talisman glinted in the faint starlight. Our Circle was complete. There were four of us. Four girls, all so different, but united in love and strength. Agnes smiled radiantly and said, “Do not be afraid!” We held fast to the Circle, and everything began to spin. Wind and rain and lightning crashed around us. I knew what I wanted to do. I reached inside for everything that gave me strength. My friends. The land. The deep earth. My crown of leaves. My Gypsy boy. I directed all that strength toward the great black megalith where Miss Scratton and Mrs. Hartle were still locked in a bitter conflict.

  Listen to me, I urged silently, stone and earth, bone and rock, open to my will. Let it be so. Let it be as I see it in my mind. Let the rock open.

  There was a thunderous noise as the earth tore apart, and the huge stone split in two. Mrs. Hartle screamed, staggering backward into the cleft in the rock. Her face was blotted out by the shadow of the two halves of the primeval stone, and although she struggled, she could not move away from that spot.

  “Earth take her!” I cried. “Bind her now!”

  My sisters took up the cry. “Bind her!” Then we chanted together: “Bind the wolf, bind the shadow, bind the lost spirit. . . .”

  “Helen!” Mrs. Hartle shouted in desperation as she felt her victory slipping away and defeat edging closer. “Don’t do this to me! Let me go!”

  But Helen carried on chanting, although her eyes were filled with pain. “Bind the dark spirit, bind the murderer, bind the evil tongue. . . .”

  “Traitor!” Mrs. Hartle snarled, and flung a last bolt of poisonous fire at her daughter. Helen deftly caught the smoldering firebrand in her hand and shouted, “I release this energy! Let it be as I will it!” The flames transformed into a white bird, which flew straight into the air and swooped away.

  “How dare you—”

  “I can and I dare!” Helen said. “You cannot hurt me anymore. My power has returned. Air and wind and spirit live in me! The breath of life! You cannot fight against that!”

  Mrs. Hartle screamed as Helen raised her hand and summoned a hurricane blast that threw her mother deeper into the stone’s cold heart.

  “No!” she gasped. “I forbid you—I am the Priestess—”

  “And I am a queen,” I said. The air was filled with the sound of drums, and I welcomed their ancient, triumphant music. “I am a queen and I bind you in earth’s kingdom.” The two halves of the rock snapped shut like a trap, and Mrs. Hartle’s screams were silenced, as though she had never been.

  Chapter Thirty

  It was finished.

  The day was dawning, pale and silver, and the Dark Sisters had abandoned the fight. They pulled their hoods down over their eyes and tried to hide their faces from us, as the Kinsfolk rounded them up with their spears. Then Miss Scratton went to speak to the shivering women.

  “Do you see now that your quest is hopeless? Celia Hartle is mortal, although she evades death, and every mortal being must face the Great Truth in the end, whether they hide from it or seek it. Don’t pin your hopes for eternal life, or great power, or wisdom, on such a wretched being.”

  “She is our Priestess and Mistress still!” hissed one of them. I recognized Miss Dalrymple’s mottled face under her robes. “Do not speak ill of her! She will return. Nothing can keep her prisoner for long, not even death.”

  Miss Scratton sighed. “You are right, she will return one day. Only the Great Creator can remove her from this earth. But she will not trouble us for a while.”

  “We will wait for her.”

  “And then what? When she returns, you will fight for her again and you will lose again, and with every fight your spirits will grow more corrupt and bitter and the way back to the light will be harder for you. Don’t do this to yourselves. Return to the life you have, the life you could enjoy.”

  But the women huddled together and chanted defiantly, “We are the Priestess. We are the Priestess. Long live the Priestess.”

  Miss Scratton bowed her head and sighed again. “I have tried, but you have chosen your path. There is nothing more we can do for you. We cannot force you to see as we see. We will not punish you, or kill you. That is not our way. Your punishment is the choice you have made.” She nodded at Kundar. “Let them go.”

  He and his men stood aside to let the women shuffle away. Miss Scratton watched them pass, but as they did so, something bright flashed out in the pale morning sun. There was a cry and a sudden scuffle as Miss Dalrymple flung herself onto Miss Scratton and stabbed her in the side.

  Evie screamed, and we all ran to Miss Scratton as she collapsed, her face twisting in pain. Miss Dalrymple darted away and the rest of the women ran helter-skelter after her down the hillside. Kundar and his men gave a great roar and set off in pursuit, but Miss Scratton waved for them to stop.

  “Don’t follow them—let them—let them go—” Her face was white, and every word seemed an effort.

  “Kundar,” I called. “Come back!” Reluctantly he and his people slowed down and shook their spears and jeered as the women disappeared from view. “The day is coming,” I said. “You must go back to the cavern and sleep. You mustn’t be seen, not now anyway.”

  “The Spirit Woman is dead?” asked Kundar.

  “She is not dead, but she is a prisoner, for now.”

  “Your friend is hurt. Her life bleeds into the ground. We will avenge her.”

  “No!” gasped Miss Scratton. “I don’t want revenge. Return to your caves. Do as your queen says.”

  Kundar touched his chest and his forehead and bowed to me. The others did the same. “Farewell, great queen. Your people will come if you call.” They stole away like the shadow of a dream. I watched them go, then knelt next to Miss Scratton.

  “We must get you back to the school and get a doctor—”

  “There is no doctor who can cure me,” she said. “My time has come.” Then she smiled faintly. “You did well, Sarah. Maria did not encounter the Kinsfolk in vain. I knew when she came to me so many years ago that all things would one day connect.” She winced in pain and murmured, “I am proud of all of you, and sorry to leave . . . there was so much I wanted to tell you—”

  “But I thought you weren’t like us,” I protested. “I thought you could live always.”

  “My spirit . . . is eternal,” she said. Her eyes seemed to grow dim, and she forced herself to speak. “But the body I inhabit on earth can be harmed, even killed. It has served me well and all through the long years I have walked in Wyldcliffe’s valley, coming and going—from one generation to another. I have had many names, and been to many places, but Wyldcliffe is where I belong. But that time is over. All things come to an end, even death.” She gasped in pain once more, and I couldn’t stop myself from crying.

  “I’ll never forgive that woman,” I said. “Never!”

  “It is not Rowena’s dagger that has brought this about. Do not blame her. Remember—forgiveness is stronger than hatred. I knew I
would not be allowed to stay. I just did not see the way it would end. When I am gone, it will be as though the car accident was real. Only you will know the truth.” She coughed weakly, then struggled to sit up. Cal and I lifted her head and supported her in our arms. Evie was huddled close to Josh, but Helen stood apart, very pale and still.

  Miss Scratton looked up at her. “Helen—I need to tell you—”

  “Why were you working against me?” said Helen abruptly. “It was you all the time, wasn’t it, holding me back?”

  “I had to.” Miss Scratton sighed. “It wasn’t your time. I had to hold you back to protect you from your mother. She was calling you—and other powers too. We have fought over you—I had to make sure Celia Hartle didn’t find you on the secret ways through the air—she was searching for you and could have trapped you there and captured you. She was once like you, and she knows those paths well. But she rejected the secrets—the secrets . . . of pure air . . . the light . . .” Miss Scratton’s voice faded, and we strained to listen to her words. “It’s you she really fears, Helen. In some part of her sad heart she still loves you, which makes her hate and fear and anger even more terrible.”

  “You’re wrong about that. She never loved me. Her love has become corrupt. It fuels her hatred now. The Priestess will try to destroy you—the whole of Wyldcliffe, in order to tear the last trace of love from her soul.”