The Dark

by Marianne Curley

  Ethan turns to me with a huge grin, blue eyes shimmering as he sheds his greatest fear.

  ‘And now that Sera’s soul is free,’ Arkarian says, ‘Laura won’t be traumatised any more.’

  Arkarian is right. I try not to think about what trauma I put my own mother through these past ten days. After the hearing will be soon enough.

  Arkarian grips Ethan’s shoulder, giving it a generous squeeze, but he has more concerns on his mind. He turns to Lady Arabella, ‘Tell me, you’re not planning to take our mortal bodies to Athens?’

  He’s brought up a good point. Everybody knows that to take our body and soul out of our own time is harmful and could prove fatal.

  Lady Arabella replies in her trusting voice, ‘In your absence much has changed. There’s an urgency now in everything we do. Isabel’s hearing will be brief, not long enough to do your bodies damage.’

  ‘Isabel’s hearing?’ Arkarian repeats in a tight voice.

  Lady Arabella’s head bows in an almost apologetic nod. ‘Lorian is holding Isabel accountable for the direct breach of a superior command.’

  Ethan tries to argue, but Lord Penbarin shuts him up fast. ‘Save your arguments for the trial. But be warned, Lorian is in no mood to listen to anyone.’

  Arkarian steps right up to Lord Penbarin’s face. ‘Lorian will listen to me.’

  I’ve never heard him sound so defiant.

  ‘We’ll go with you,’ he continues. ‘But I want a private visit with Lorian before Isabel’s hearing. And I want a safe room set up immediately.’ He pulls Dillon over and introduces him. ‘I’m sure you will find the information Dillon brings to the Guard very useful.’

  Lord Penbarin and Lady Arabella agree to organise a safe room. Safe, that is, for the Guard as well. Changing sides is a serious matter. Very few do it. There are a lot of risks. Dillon will be briefed thoroughly and under constant surveillance for a long time.

  ‘But as for your meeting with Lorian,’ Lady Arabella explains. ‘We can only do what we can.’

  Arkarian nods, accepting, and Lord Penbarin puts an arm around his shoulder. ‘It’s good to have you back.’

  Lady Arabella smiles, and a trickle of tears slides down each side of her face.

  The surrounding crowd, which has now surged to more than a hundred, start to cheer, with whistles and wild clapping.

  I can’t help but ask, ‘Who are those people?’

  Lady Arabella shares a look with Lord Penbarin, who shrugs almost imperceptibly, and she says, ‘They are the survivors – charged with the protection of the living.’

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Arkarian

  In my entire six centuries of existence, I have never felt this way – compelled to strangle an immortal! But if Lorian were here, right now, in this room in the Citadel, I would take my mortal hands and put them to this superior being’s neck and squeeze. That Lorian could hold Isabel entirely responsible for disobeying a direct order fills me with absolute rage. Part of me knew it would happen. Part of me even understands why. But now that I’m faced with the reality – the prospect of losing Isabel – I can’t even accept the thought.

  ‘You’d better calm yourself,’ Lord Penbarin warns me as he wraps each of us in a silver protective cloak. Instantly we’re transported to Athens to the year 200 BC.

  Once in the palace courtyard I flick my cloak off. ‘Thanks for the advice, my lord, but I would rather you spent your breath organising my meeting with Lorian.’

  He tips his forehead to me. ‘As you wish.’

  As Lord Penbarin disappears, Lady Arabella collects our cloaks and explains that Dillon has been taken elsewhere and that his protection is secure. ‘Now come and partake of some food and drink. You must be hungry.’ She looks at me and pauses, her eyes drifting shut for the briefest of moments as if she’s holding her breath. The moment passes and she smiles gently. ‘Lorian will meet with you now. In Chambers. You are allocated five minutes only, then the hearing will begin. Good luck.’

  Without looking around and giving Isabel, Ethan or Matt a chance to say anything, I use my wings and disappear, materialising in the Tribunal Chambers before Lorian, sitting alone at the Circle’s head. All other nine chairs remain empty, but not for long. And as I have only five minutes, I try to make the most of each second. So I get right down to the purpose of this meeting. ‘You mustn’t punish Isabel.’

  Lorian looks up, and for a second, I think I see a small smile, a glimpse of relief. ‘Welcome back, Arkarian. I thought I was never … I must say, you are looking well.’

  I shift the conversation straight back to the point. ‘Because of Isabel, yes. She’s a gifted healer, the best the Guard has ever seen. She has so much potential now that her second sight is developing. The possibilities are endless. I want to work with her, to develop these skills. It’s possible she may one day be able to heal through her psyche. Do you understand what enormous benefit she brings to us at this needy time?’

  ‘I know everything, Arkarian. I know why Isabel breached my direct command. There are many issues to be dealt with here today, and very little time in which to do it. And while I don’t doubt Isabel’s extraordinary talent and benefit to our cause, my decision on her future is final. No amount of discussion will sway me. You waste your breath and everyone’s time, Arkarian. The subject of Isabel’s punishment is closed. Now,’ Lorian pauses, giving me a chance to catch up and absorb these words. ‘Do you have anything else to discuss?’

  Lorian’s finality on Isabel’s future has me reeling and I find words hard to form. ‘I … I have so many questions.’

  ‘There is much that you are unaware of. Remember what I taught you when you were my Apprentice: put your trust in me as I will only ever make decisions for the greater good.’

  ‘My head is full of doubts right now, Lorian. I fear that you are sacrificing Isabel for this “greater good”.’

  Lorian’s head lifts suddenly as if insulted. ‘The subject of Isabel’s breach of my command will only be discussed at her hearing!’

  ‘All right! But this subject is only closed – temporarily.’

  Lorian appears amused that I dare to make a demand. But what I’m about to relate will remove every remaining fibre of humour. ‘Lathenia doesn’t have the key.’

  The Immortal goes still. But a look of anticipation soon starts to grow. ‘Explain.’

  ‘It was hidden beneath a secret panel in the temple floor.’

  ‘What!’

  ‘Matt found it.’

  Lorian stares at me. Quickly I add, ‘Unfortunately, we had to leave it there.’

  ‘Do not tell me that! Surely, Arkarian, you, of all people, know its importance!’

  ‘We had no time. And as it seems Matt is the only one who can touch it without losing his life, I couldn’t help him dislodge it.’

  Lorian sighs. ‘So it remains in the temple, probably exposed, just waiting for Lathenia to find it.’

  ‘It may not be that easy to find. As we left, the temple was being destroyed.’

  Lorian sits in silent contemplation. And then, ‘Is there anything else to report?’

  ‘No. But I do have a question.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Who is my father?’

  Lorian’s eyebrows lift and for a second I think the Immortal isn’t going to reply. ‘I am your father, Arkarian.’

  It’s a shock. But a fraction of a part of my brain suspected it might be true. Still, how is this possible? All my life I have understood that Lorian is of no fixed sex.

  Lorian absorbs my thoughts with ease. ‘I was born male. Having no fixed sex was a decision I made. To be a good leader I wanted to be impartial and fair, and I felt I could only do that if I was of no sexual persuasion and desired none. But there came the need to create another immortal. For this purpose I chose to resume the male form. To have become female would have meant living as a mortal for too long, neglecting my duties here. Impossible! So I chose a young woman, whom you have recen
tly met, to be your mother. Unfortunately she passed away. It was decided you were to come here to live and be raised in the palace. But all did not go as planned.’

  Slowly the mystery of my birth starts to unravel. ‘Because I wasn’t born an immortal. How you must have been disappointed.’

  Lorian’s eyes drift downwards and stay closed for a moment. ‘Only by the fact that your life-span would be limited.’

  Now I understand. ‘So you gave me the ability to stop ageing.’

  Lorian’s – my father – head tilts slightly in silent acknowledgement. ‘Other than all the Tribunal members, I have only given this power to two people. And one of those people I very much regret.’

  ‘Marduke.’

  ‘Yes. A difficult decision at the time, but our healer had died and without this gift, Marduke would have too. And at the time he was a brilliant Guard – young with strong developing powers and unlimited potential. It seemed a fitting reward.’

  A thought occurs: if my father has the power to give this gift, then it must be possible to take it away. Lorian misreads my thoughts, assuming that I’m thinking of Marduke. ‘Even an immortal has limitations, Arkarian. I could not strip Marduke of his power without his knowledge, especially now while Lathenia watches him carefully. I hardly think he will walk in here and give me his permission.’

  I look my father straight in the eye, holding his gaze firm. ‘But you have mine.’

  For a second my father simply stares at me, understanding what I’m saying, but reluctant to accept that this is my wish. ‘You want me to strip you of your power to stop ageing?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Explain yourself, Arkarian.’

  ‘Isabel is my soul-mate.’

  ‘I’m aware of that.’

  ‘She can’t live in my world, so I want to live in hers.’

  The chair falls away as Lorian rises and approaches me, wearing a look of complete disbelief. ‘You would sacrifice the closest thing to immortality for this girl?’

  My answer is instantaneous, ‘For the chance to be with her. Yes.’

  The stare is hard to take. Finally my father says, ‘Then it is just as well I am the supreme being around here, and not you, my son.’

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Isabel

  The exact second I enter the Tribunal Chambers a hush descends. I stand in the open doorway on legs unable to move. My hands are sweating. I run them up and down the side of the long white tunic they put me in. The room itself appears as it did the last time it was used for the purposes of a trial. But now I am the one who is being judged, not Ethan, and my breach is far more severe.

  As before, the nine Tribunal members have taken their seats in the Circle. And to my surprise, though he still doesn’t look very well, King Richard II sits to Lord Penbarin’s right. And I have to wonder why they brought him to the Circle when he’s not completely cured. He’s going to be Veridian’s representative on the Tribunal, making all the sectors of the earth complete. King Richard wouldn’t be here at all if it wasn’t for Ethan, taking the risk to rescue him last year. Apparently Lorian thinks him well enough to sit and watch the proceedings.

  Lorian motions for me to enter and sit on the stool provided. Sucking in a deep breath I walk on wobbly legs to the centre of the Circle and gratefully sit. The moment I do, a warmth and sense of calm fills me, and I know straightaway that I’m sitting on one of Arkarian’s ancient hand-carved stools. He must have provided it for me himself. I flick a look around the room in search of him. He appears directly in my vision, his violet eyes reaching out to me, and I feel somehow stronger, calmer, ready to face whatever judgement is handed down.

  With this inner calm residing in me, I risk a quick look at the Immortal’s face, being careful not to connect with Lorian’s eyes. In my previous experience I’ve found this difficult to do. But what I see surprises me. Lorian is wearing a look of contemplation, a creased and frowning brow, with eyes that remain downcast. For a second I wish I was a Truthseer and could read Lorian’s thoughts. But then the Immortal stands, raises both hands, and says, ‘The punishment for disobeying a direct order is death.’

  The room erupts around me. Arkarian, Ethan and Matt have to be physically restrained. And while I hear the sentence, a part of me becomes detached, as if this whole scene is not happening to me. It’s as if I’m watching from behind a screen.

  Lorian turns sideways and an image – a three-D holograph of my school – appears before me. The image zooms in closer and now I see the classroom and students mucking around inside. Once more the image increases, so now it’s as if we’re in the classroom with them, Mr Carter standing in front of the whiteboard.

  The first thing I notice is the lack of school uniform. Students are wearing whatever they like – short skirts, dresses, brief tops, all-black outfits, some with chains and body piercing in every conceivable location, others with heads shaved or hair that looks as if it hasn’t seen a comb in a month. A couple of students are wearing jeans with rips at their knees and thighs and just about everywhere.

  The second thing is the noise. Craig Johnson stands up and flings something across the room. I duck as this projectile feels as if it’s headed straight for me. It’s only a pen, but it strikes Zoe Fielders on the back of her head. She screams out a string of vile swear words while half climbing over her desk. Mr Carter thumps the board with a ruler and yells at the class to settle down. He is then abused with more vile language and has a book – the history textbook we’re working on in class at the moment – thrown at him. He catches it and sets it down with a loud thump on the desk in front of him, the look on his face one of pure devastation.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I ask out loud.

  Lorian’s head moves just slightly and the image switches to the town mall, where the Angel Fall’s Café is being robbed by an armed man, the patrons terrorised with the threat of a gun. The proprietor, Mr McGowan, hands over money from his till in a grey bag with shaking hands. The robber strikes him with the butt of his gun, before racing outside to a waiting car. And the worst part about this scene is the fact that I recognise this thief. He lives in my neighbourhood, someone I thought to be a loving family man, struggling to raise his young family.

  Again I have to ask, ‘What’s happening? How can this be? I know these people.’

  ‘This is your world now.’

  ‘What? But how can it change so quickly? We were only gone ten days.’

  ‘The war has escalated. The situation is serious. The Prophecy has changed, predicting a disastrous outcome. We are at the brink of losing complete control and any chance of attaining peace for all the worlds.’

  The image of my home town disappears and Lorian comes to stand before me. I can’t help but think this is all my fault. By leaving Veridian vulnerable for ten whole days, the Goddess has taken the advantage and stepped up her campaign. And obviously she’s winning. Tears hit the back of my eyes, which I’m helpless to do anything about. They begin streaming down my face.

  With fingers longer than normal, Lorian touches the underside of my chin, urging me to look up. I’m reluctant to do so, as the power that emanates from the single touch of these fingers makes me want to run. But the pressure of Lorian’s hand intensifies and I understand this is not a request, but a command. I’ve broken one of those already, so I take a deep breath and lift my head.

  Intense violet eyes stare back at me, holding me in position. Lorian’s stare is harsh, and it pains me to maintain it. ‘Do you think I make decisions lightly, Isabel?’

  My head shakes a no, then slowly I work moisture into my mouth and reply verbally, ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Do you have anything you wish to say?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’ And somehow I try to explain, ‘I’m really sorry. In rescuing Arkarian I never meant to cause such devastation. But …’

  ‘But?’

  I take a deep breath. ‘I’d do it all again, taking more risks if I had to, to bring Arkarian back.’


  The whole room goes deathly silent. Then Lorian says, ‘Isabel, who do you think opened the rift?’

  What does Lorian mean? As far as I know the rift was opened by … But I don’t want to even think these names in case it incriminates one or all three of the royals.

  But screening my thoughts is useless, as Lorian is aware of every one of them. ‘Only an Immortal can open the rift, Isabel, or a descendant with immortal powers.’

  ‘Arkarian!’ I whisper, knowing in my heart all along, Arkarian must be Lorian’s son! But does this mean Lorian wanted me to rescue Arkarian?

  Lorian answers without my having to voice this question out loud. ‘Isabel, understand this – Arkarian is vital to our survival and success against the forces of chaos. There was never any doubt about launching a rescue. It was always going to happen. The only question was who was strong enough to undergo the challenges of the underworld. So I devised a test, which you passed, brilliantly. And I was comforted that Ethan planned to go with you. What did surprise me though,’ and here Lorian glances to the side to Matt, ‘was your brother’s intention to join you both. That was the only glitch to the plan, although Lady Arabella realised at the very end, but was helpless to do anything except provide him with warmth.’

  The Immortal’s words render me speechless. It wasn’t true that Lorian didn’t want to rescue Arkarian! It was all a test to find the strongest person. Someone with enough determination to get through the challenges and hardships Lorian knew would have to be overcome in that place.

  I grip the stool to keep from falling backwards.

  ‘Therefore,’ Lorian continues, stepping slightly backwards and giving me some much-needed breathing space, ‘you are exonerated of breaching my command. In fact, you are to be commended for your success and unfailing courage.’

  The room explodes in cheering. My eyes search for Arkarian, and a bitter-sweet joy fills me. I’m going to be free, yet what is this freedom if Arkarian doesn’t want to be in my life? To see him only when he has to explain a mission will be torture.