The Dark

by Marianne Curley

  It grows late and he leaves, worried about his mother. She’s worse than usual, and no one can understand why. I regret burdening him with my problems when he has so many of his own. I go up to my room and flop down on my bed. Eventually I start to doze.

  I dream of Arkarian. His face, his gentle eyes and vivid blue hair, as always, bring me comfort. I feel myself shift into a kind of oblivion, a semi-awareness, as if I’m neither awake nor asleep. He’s exactly as I remember him, tall and slender, calm and strong, poised and in control. His eyes draw me to him, and instantly I’m lost in them. But it’s a sweet feeling of warmth, trust and security that I lose myself in. He steps up to me and smiles. I run my fingers through his hair, marvelling not just at the unusual colour, but at the feeling of silk in my hand. And for the first time in a long day I feel myself unwind.

  But the dream changes, and my old enemy Marduke appears. Yet here is a man who is nothing like I remember. He’s changed, taken on the look of a strange beast, almost entirely covered in a bristly fur. It crawls down his forehead and the sides of his face, making me shudder with repulsion.

  Arkarian and I are thrown apart at Marduke’s appearance. My head swims with a foul odour that I recognise as the evil that has resided in this man since he chose to serve the Goddess. Marduke holds Arkarian back with just the point of his finger and a wild green energy that radiates from it. He grins, and his halfmouth, and one blazing eye, seem to laugh louder than any words.

  As sure as my next breath, my heart knows what’s going to happen; and the fear that grips me makes me curl into a ball, knees tucked tightly to my chest. I try to wake, try to make a sound. Matt is sleeping in the room next to mine, and our walls are thin. Jimmy is across the hall with Mum. But the only sounds being made are the ones playing out in my dream. Horrifying sounds of Arkarian being tortured. Now I see him, in a dark room lit by burning torches, strapped to a medieval rack. I stretch my hands out to him. ‘Arkarian!’ But the distance between us only seems to grow further.

  Marduke laughs. I hear it both in my heart and in my head. And then I see why. Those same four creatures who abducted Arkarian from the Citadel make an appearance. One turns and looks up at me, staring with glowing red eyes. It flaps awkward wings, lifts into the air, then snorts with the contentment of a pig.

  Marduke barks a command, and two of these creatures make the rack stretch Arkarian’s bones to breaking point. ‘No!’ I scream and thrash about in my bed. I have to wake from this nightmare, which I feel in the pit of my stomach is not a dream at all, but a glimpse from another world. ‘Let him go!’

  Marduke speaks, his words slurred as if his tongue is out of proportion with his mouth. But I understand his meaning all right. And it makes me scream even harder, while my hands and feet try to hit out at him.

  Someone starts shaking me. It helps drag me from my nightmare. I open my eyes to find Jimmy holding my shoulders, with Matt yelling in my face to wake up. Mum is looking worried, grasping her pyjama shirt top together between tightly held fists. ‘Heavens, what’s wrong with her? She’s having so many nightmares lately.’

  I try to calm down so Mum doesn’t suspect anything weird about me. She doesn’t know about my double life. That’s how it has to be for her own protection. But my heart is still in overdrive as I try to figure out what just happened. This same person reached me through my dream once before.

  I have to tell Jimmy and Matt, but especially Jimmy. He’ll know what to do. Who to tell. Thank God he’s back. His light joking manner is a blessing in a crisis.

  But first I have to reassure Mum. Straightening, I pull out of Jimmy’s hold. ‘It’s all right everyone. I’m fine now. It was just a bad dream, that’s all.’ With my eyes I try to tell Jimmy we have to talk.

  To Mum he suggests, ‘What about a mug of hot chocolate, love? Always good for a sleepless night. What’d’ya say, darl’?’

  Mum looks at me, a hand to her throat. ‘Would you like that, honey? Some hot chocolate?’

  ‘Oh yeah, that would be great, Mum.’

  Reluctant to leave, she touches Matt’s arm. ‘You go, Matt. Make some for all of us.’

  But I need to talk to Jimmy, and I can’t wait until Mum goes to bed. ‘But Mum, he doesn’t know how to make it like you. Matt will make it in the microwave.’ I can’t believe what I’m saying. I sound like a spoilt brat. ‘Please, Mum?’

  She relents. And as soon as she walks out the door I spin around and grab Jimmy’s shirt front. ‘He’s not dead!’

  ‘Who’s not?’ Matt asks. ‘What are you talking about?’

  I have to hiss the word. Speaking it out loud scares me half to death. ‘Marduke.’

  ‘But, Isabel, we all saw him die. You were just dreaming, darl’.’

  ‘It happened while I slept, but it was no dream, Jimmy. He’s alive I tell you. As alive as you and me.’ But then I think about this. ‘Well, not quite as you and me. He’s changed. It’s as if he’s become part monster. An animal.’ I’m starting to sound more hysterical than believable. ‘Look, last year he did the same thing. He reached me through my dreams.’ My head shakes. ‘I don’t know how he does it. Maybe it’s one of his powers. But I recognised him straightaway. He wanted to tell me something.’

  Matt’s eyes squint as worry lines crease his forehead. ‘What did he say? Are you in any sort of danger?’

  Suddenly it becomes clear, but I have to hurry. I can hear Mum downstairs switching off lights already. She’s made the fastest hot chocolates in her life. ‘I think it was an invitation.’

  Jimmy catches on. ‘He’s inviting you to the underworld.’

  Matt comes to his own decision. ‘It’s a trap! Lorian is right not to risk lives to bring Arkarian back.’

  I turn on Matt as if I’m a snake and my words are venom. ‘Lorian is not right about this!’ Mum’s footsteps are near, but we’re not finished yet. Jimmy spins his head to the door just as Mum gets to the top of the stairs. The door slams shut.

  ‘Hurry, Isabel. I won’t keep a door shut in your mother’s face for longer than absolutely necessary. What do you want me to do?’

  ‘You have to get me into that world, Jimmy.’

  ‘No way!’ Matt cries out.

  I ignore him, keeping my eyes fixed on Jimmy, but all he does is shake his head. ‘I haven’t got the power, Isabel. It takes an immortal.’

  But his answer is not what I want to hear. I grab his shirt front once again, and bring his face down to mine. ‘Don’t feed me that crap, Jimmy. I’ve seen your work in the ancient city. You have power.’

  ‘We all have powers, Isabel. That’s why we’re in the Guard.’

  Matt scoffs at this; both Jimmy and I ignore it. He’s just impatient, and I’m impatient for Jimmy’s help. Anyone’s help.

  Jimmy unwinds my fingers from his shirt. ‘I don’t have the powers you need.’

  Mum bangs at the door with her foot. ‘Honey? Matt? Someone open this door.’

  Matt gets up. ‘Coming, Mum.’ He walks over slowly.

  I stare at Jimmy one last time. ‘Then find me someone who will help me get through the rift.’

  ‘And induce the wrath of Lorian?’

  ‘Well yes, if that’s what it takes!’

  His eyes narrow as he thinks about my request. Arkarian is his long-trusted friend, someone Jimmy totally respects. He too must be hurting over Lorian’s decision not to approve a rescue mission. Matt opens the door and Mum comes in with a tray and four mugs of steaming hot chocolate drinks. While she puts the tray on my dresser, Jimmy whispers near my ear, ‘The one you need is Lord Penbarin. I’ll see if I can arrange a meeting. But you have to understand the consequences of your act. What you plan to do is treason – disobedience of a direct command. Isabel, you could die for this.’

  For the first time since Arkarian’s abduction I feel a surge of hope. Action has always been the way I work. And now I have a plan that I know is right. When this is all over, I’ll accept whatever fate I’m dealt. But for now, n
o one is going to stop me.

  Mum comes over and hands me a mug of hot chocolate. She looks so concerned. She probably thinks I’m coming down with something. I take the mug and feel a sharp stab of pain. I sure as hell don’t want to die, never to see my family again. Or put my mother through any sort of grief. But how can I leave Arkarian in that place, in the hands of a madman, without even trying to help? The answer is simple – I can’t. If death is a risk, then I’m willing to take it. For him. Only for him.

  I look across at Mum as she takes a seat at the foot of my bed, and force a reassuring smile to my face. But the smile develops a tremor as a wave of uncertainty almost overwhelms me. I force it aside. Now is not the time for doubts. Turning my head to the side where Jimmy waits, I whisper in the softest voice, ‘If that’s how it has be, Jimmy … then so be it.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Isabel

  Ethan wants to go with me. We’re standing outside the secret door to Arkarian’s chambers. Arguing. But I don’t see why Ethan has to risk his life too. Suddenly the stakes have risen. If only Lorian hadn’t given us a direct command, but the Immortal did this on purpose, knowing we’d plan a rescue.

  ‘Look at you,’ Ethan says, staring down at me.

  I don’t follow his sudden change in tactic. I glance down at my clothes – nothing unusual, just my old black jeans and a grey jumper. Unconsciously I run my hand through my hair. ‘Yeah? What?’

  ‘I know Lord Penbarin. He’s helped me before. Your solo attitude right now would really tick him off. We’re supposed to be a team, Isabel. The Tribunal put us together. They know we click. But you’ve never recognised it. You always complain that you don’t get to do the missions on your own. And now you’re obsessed with finding Arkarian without anyone’s help. You’re out of control.’

  I would argue, but this time Ethan’s right. I’ve been out of control since Arkarian’s abduction. It’s like there’s a churning hurricane inside me that just won’t blow away. I feel all twisted inside. And I’m not really sure why. All I know is that a world without Arkarian is a world I don’t want to live in.

  My head feels heavy all of a sudden. There’s so much to think about, especially this rescue attempt. It carries enormous risks. That’s why I want to do it alone. ‘Look, Ethan, it’s enough one of us has to risk her life, don’t you think?’

  He looks me straight in the eyes, gripping my shoulders. ‘Tell me this: if it has to be only one of us, why should it be you?’

  ‘Because I …’

  ‘Love him?’

  My head lifts slightly, and I shrug out of his hold, finding myself unable to meet his gaze.

  ‘Isabel, I love him too. He’s like a father, a brother, a friend, everything to me.’

  The thought that maybe I just don’t trust anyone else to succeed in bringing Arkarian back crosses my mind, but I push it away. I would trust Ethan with my life. But where Ethan has more skills than me, more effective powers, I’m the one with the gift of sight. This has to be a huge advantage in this underworld. ‘It’s not a matter of who’s got the right, Ethan. I just think I can do this alone.’

  ‘What is it with you?’ he snaps at me. ‘Why do you feel compelled to do everything on your own? You only make things harder for yourself you know. You’ve got nothing to prove, Isabel. Nothing you haven’t already proved to everyone you’ve ever known a thousand times over.’

  ‘What are you talking about? I’m not trying to prove anything to anyone.’

  ‘You’re lying!’

  ‘That’s rubbish!’

  ‘You’re lying to yourself, Isabel. Think about it.’ He turns his back and goes in through the secret door.

  Alone for a minute I think about Ethan’s accusation. Am I really always trying to prove myself? Is that how he sees me? But prove what exactly? My strength? That I can cope on my own?

  A sudden stab of pain and bright light hits me, making me drop to my knees. I try to relax, to allow my breathing to slow. At last the light softens and an image forms more clearly. I realise straightaway that I’m seeing my past. It’s my father. His face is crystal clear. And while I’ve never seen a photograph of him (Mum took scissors to every one she had the night he walked out), I know this is him. I feel it.

  It’s then I see myself in this vision too. I can’t be more than three or four years old, running down a flight of wooden stairs, strands of white-blonde hair clinging to my face – which is wet and red and puffy. Inside my chest, my heart pounds like a heavy drum. Dad has a suitcase in one hand, and is heading for a blue station wagon. He hears me and turns, drops the suitcase and holds his arms out to me. ‘My little Isa, come here.’ His voice sounds broken. ‘I’m not going anywhere until I’ve said goodbye to my favourite girl in the whole world.’ I fly into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist, and feel his wet face against my neck.

  ‘Daddy, you’re crying too!’

  He tries to lower me to the ground as if in a desperate hurry, but I cling to him tightly. He glances at Mum to help him remove me, but she raises her head and turns it away. She doesn’t want him to go either, and I feel this with every part of me, making me hold on even tighter. Mum goes inside, sobbing now, and Matt runs after her. Dad tries hard to break my hold. I slip, sliding to the ground, where I attach myself to his leg.

  ‘I have to go, sweetheart,’ he says. ‘I can’t live with this deceit any more. You don’t understand. I tried to explain it to you last week at our picnic, but you’re so young, my words don’t mean anything. They probably never will, even if one day you do remember them.’

  ‘Daddy, what’s wrong?’

  He lifts me up and holds me at eye level. ‘Do the best, Isabel. Always do the best that you can. Promise me?’

  As quickly as the image hits me, it disappears, leaving me crouched to the ground and breathless. Ethan comes up behind me. ‘Hey, are you all right? I turned around and you weren’t following. What are you doing?’

  I get up, but the look on my face must give him a fright. He drags me into his arms, rubbing my back with his hand. ‘You’ve had another vision.’ It’s not a question. ‘What did you see?’

  I push my open palms at his chest, giving myself a little space. The vision of my father has shaken me. I can hardly form words. What was that all about? What was the deceit he couldn’t live with?

  But Ethan is worried, and I try to collect myself. ‘It was nothing. Nothing to do with Arkarian, or your mum, or anything like that.’

  He steps back and just looks at me, his head at a slight angle, but doesn’t say anything. He simply waits.

  ‘All right,’ I tell him. ‘We’ll do this thing together.’

  Chapter Twenty

  Isabel

  Mr Carter makes us promise not to incriminate him in any way, should Lord Penbarin, or any member of the Tribunal, ask who helped us get to the palace in Athens. Though it seems obvious to me; transportation through time is not something either Ethan or I can manage on our own. We’re not trained, and we don’t have that kind of authority. Not many do. The Tribunal members and Arkarian would. And of course Mr Carter. Ethan exchanges an amused look with me before making an easy promise. We also have to promise we’ll be back in the courtyard by midnight, so that Mr Carter can return us safely before going off and doing the many extra things he has to do these days.

  Mr Carter delivers us into the palace’s golden courtyard, except it’s hardly golden right now. It’s obviously late, shrouded in darkness, except for lanterns strategically placed to enhance a garden bed or stone bench.

  ‘Do they live here?’ I suddenly wonder. ‘I mean, all nine members of the Tribunal? And Lorian too?’

  ‘Apparently. It’s a safe haven. Arkarian told me once this palace is kind of between places. It can’t be infiltrated or even detected.’

  ‘He thought the Citadel was safe too, but look what happened there. Maybe nowhere is safe.’

  Ethan takes my hand and starts to pull me across the courtyard. ‘
Come on. And walk lightly,’ he whispers. ‘We don’t want Lorian finding out we’re here.’

  I think Ethan is being naive. Lorian is probably already aware of our presence. I don’t think much gets past that immortal. But my hunch is Lorian will watch first, then act. If Ethan and I are to be accused of treason, the Tribunal will gather its evidence against us first. And just being here, in this palace, doesn’t prove anything. Yet.

  Ethan leads the way into a spacious foyer. ‘It’s down here,’ he says. ‘And remember, Mr Carter wants us back in the courtyard by midnight.’

  I follow Ethan, and with every step marvel at the surrounding grandeur. There are white marble stairwells that lead to hallways lined with intricately designed carpets. Paintings, in gold frames, hang over the top of sculptures, thousands of years old.

  Finally we stand before a set of carved double doors. I want to push the doors in, announce our reason for being here, and hurry up and get Lord Penbarin’s overwhelming support. But my stomach has decided it doesn’t want to reside under my rib cage any more. It starts jumping and twitching erratically. Any second it’s going to leap right out through my mouth.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Ethan asks from beside me.

  ‘Uh-huh. I mean, I think so. Why don’t you go ahead and knock?’

  He gives me a funny look. ‘What happened to wanting to do this all by yourself?’

  ‘Well, you may as well make yourself useful.’

  He sniggers, which helps ease the tension inside me. But before he even gets a chance to raise his hand to the doors, they swing soundlessly open, and a man in a white baggy suit stands before us. We tell him our names and that we wish to see Lord Penbarin. The man nods and motions us in.

  On seeing us, Lord Penbarin groans – loudly. Several women – six after counting heads – surround him at a large dining table spread out with a feast of mouthwatering dishes. ‘I didn’t think it would take long before you sought me out,’ he mutters, wiping the corner of his mouth with a gold silk napkin. Putting the napkin down with a smirk, he sweeps his hand wide, dismissing the women. ‘Get rid of the food too,’ he says to the man who answered the door. ‘I was hungry, but the sight of these two has depleted my appetite.’