The Named

by Marianne Curley

  Suddenly an eerie sensation hits my senses, as if something unidentifiable has entered the dream. It has an evil feel or aura. It’s so obvious to me, yet the other five remain unconcerned, talking softly to each other, standing in a circle.

  The sense of evil intensifies with the sound of a distant roar like a pride of hungry lions on a rampage. It goes on for a seemingly endless stretch of time, and I can swear in my dream that it’s coming from the woods, yet somehow also from within my head. I wave at the group standing in a circle, trying to warn them to look into the woodlands to their right.

  ‘There’s something in there! Something evil! I feel it!’ I scream at them.

  But no one hears me, no one looks to where the evil is growing larger and more powerful, like a gathering electric storm. I need to warn them.

  ‘Look!’ I yell again, tears now coursing down my face, my arms outstretched, mouth open and strained in a loud scream.

  And then I see it, a massive creature with a disfigured face with a single, wild-looking yellow eye, dressed in strange clothes and wielding a long sword.

  It comes charging out of the woods like an enraged bear.

  ‘Over there!’ I scream one last time, for if they don’t turn and run now they will all be massacred for sure by this hideous creature.

  No one looks.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ethan

  I get home and Dad’s waiting, which takes me completely by surprise. He usually goes about his day without noticing anything I do or say or whatever. Mum’s different. Even while she suffers from severe bouts of depression, she still manages to maintain an interest in my life. I remember once, after a particularly long stint when she ended up in hospital for ten days, she told me that she would never really get over losing her daughter so suddenly, but sometimes her mind needs to take a holiday, and so it goes off on its own for a while.

  ‘You missed dinner,’ Dad says, leaning against the dining-table edge. ‘That makes a perfect record – every night this week.’

  His words have me frowning and wondering at the same time. I’m surprised that he noticed. Could he possibly be returning to the man Mum told me he once was? I decide not to get my hopes up, after all, it could just be that Mum’s been nagging.

  ‘Apparently you didn’t tell your mother where you’ve been going or who you’ve been hanging around with. You know how she worries.’

  Ah, well, now that explains it. ‘Sorry, Dad. My mistake. Tell Mum I was with Isabel.’

  ‘Isabel Becket?’

  ‘Yeah, why?’

  ‘No reason. I just haven’t heard the name in a long time. Isn’t she Matt’s sister? The one who used to jump out of trees all the time?’

  A vision of Isabel climbing that old camphor laurel tree yesterday and hanging upside-down for thirty minutes, just to prove she could hold on longer than I could, flashes through my mind, making me smile. ‘She doesn’t do that any more.’ Unless provoked, I add silently. Which doesn’t take much.

  ‘So you’re saying you’ve been with Isabel every day for the past couple of weeks?’

  ‘That’s right.’ What’s got into him? ‘Why the third degree, Dad?’

  ‘It just seems odd, that’s all.’

  ‘Why?’ A better question would be, Why would you notice?

  His head does a shake that is more like a shiver. ‘Where do you go, you and Isabel, all this time?’

  His questions are heading somewhere. I just wish I could second-guess him, but I have no idea what he’s on about. ‘We just hang around by the lake, mostly. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Where around the lake, Ethan? Not round near the falls?’ His voice drops and tightens and I get a glimpse of where he’s coming from now. But there’s no way he’ll come right out and say it. In fact, Sera’s name has never been mentioned in all the years since she died. Sometimes I just want to scream it as loud as I can, right in Dad’s face. Maybe it would jolt him out of his stupor, or whatever it is he slid into all those years ago.

  ‘We do go round the other side, Dad, but nowhere near the falls, nowhere near the unusual flowers that grow around there.’

  He hears the word ‘flowers’ and stiffens. Mum, who’s been listening for the last few minutes from the doorway, comes in and gives me a hug. ‘Hungry, Ethan?’

  I hug her back. ‘Not really, Mum. I think I’ll go to bed.’

  They let me pass without another word, which is a good thing, as the air in here has grown so thick that the act of breathing has become difficult.

  In my room I flop down on the bed and stare at the ceiling. It’s too early to sleep, but I’m dead tired. I decide to close my eyes for a couple of minutes, then take a shower and get ready for my mission. Instead I drop into another of my vivid nightmares. I feel it descend on me the second I close my eyes, but I’m helpless to stop it.

  This time I’m swimming. In the lake, near the falls. I’m older than usual, about my own age now. There’s no one about, just me and the lake, the water cold and dark, reflecting a deeply overcast sky. I wait with something akin to anticipation, knowing in my subconscious mind what’s about to make an appearance: evil. There’s no other term for it, no other way to describe the feelings, the sensations, the horror that evolves.

  In my dream I start for the shore with long, fast strokes, that urgent feeling starting to kick into my stomach. It’s out there, in the woods, watching, waiting. I hear it groan and every hair on my body shivers with trepidation. And then I spot her playing by the water’s edge, her black curls bobbing around her head as she joyfully builds a castle made of stones.

  ‘Sera!’

  Too far off to hear me. I quicken my strokes. The creature is now bearing down on her at a run.

  ‘Sera! Get up!’

  She doesn’t hear me and I stroke faster than ever before in my life. With every muscle aching, my lungs ready to burst, I swim even harder, faster. I have to reach her before the creature lays his hand atop her forehead. ‘Sera!’

  Metres from the shore I hear the creature roar a victorious sound. He knows his prey is only seconds away from his touch. Then I see him emerge from the wooded edge, giving Sera mere seconds in which to move. ‘Sera, run for your life!’

  She lifts her head and our eyes lock. I freeze half in, half out of the water. Oh, God, no!

  It’s not Sera any more. The face that stares back at me with wide and trusting eyes is Isabel’s.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Isabel

  I sit straight up in bed, totally disoriented, my body soaked in sweat, my heart racing and jerking, tears still moist across my face. It’s dark but my eyes quickly adjust. I’m still in my bedroom. My clock reads 11.46 p.m.

  I remember now the dream and the horror I felt caught within it. Where did that nightmare come from? Hell, obviously.

  I lie back down just to get my breath and calm my racing heart. Slowly, I close my eyes, folding one trembling hand over the other across my chest. I’m so uptight I’ll never get transported like this. And that nightmare, that can just go back to wherever it came from.

  I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and unconsciously hold my breath. It’s Mum. But she’s not alone. I hear her give a little laugh. Another voice, only slightly deeper, laughs back. Mum shushes Jimmy with a giggle; their footsteps move on past my door.

  Silence.

  And then a rat-a-tat sound starts up in the ceiling. That possum’s back, probably, or a bird’s got into the roof and can’t find its way out. A creak sounds at the window, then a bang against my opposite bedroom wall. That’s Matt’s room. He’s probably just rolled over and thumped the wall accidentally. Every sound tonight seems magnified; my senses are working overtime. If I keep this up I’ll still be awake when dawn arrives. I forgot to ask Ethan what happens if I don’t get to sleep, if I don’t reach that relaxed state of body and mind. Surely my soul can’t transfer while I’m still awake? This thought has my heart pounding again. I don’t want to slip into a coma-like stat
e while even partly conscious. I start thinking Ethan was right when he said I wasn’t ready, psychologically at least.

  As I think of Ethan my mind begins to slow. His face swims before my eyes, his voice calling to me softly, his hands outstretched towards mine. Slowly, I drift into that semi-conscious state of near sleep. A tingling starts up in my body. For a second I jerk awake, then quickly relax my breathing. It could be nothing, just hyperventilating slightly again. But then the sensation increases. Instinctively I want to fight it, but my mind has passed that state of consciousness now. I’m too far gone asleep. The last thought I have is of weightlessness, complete and utter freedom of movement and of mind.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ethan

  Somehow I pass from the dream and straight to the Citadel. That’s never happened to me before. I think Arkarian has something to do with it, rescuing me from that nightmare that never ceases to plague my brain. Why can’t I be rid of the thing? When I was little, my mother took me to counsellors. Each of them had a different idea on how to get me through the long scary nights. I’ve slept with lights on, puppies at my feet, soft music, meditative tapes, warm glasses of milk and honey, canaries and goldfish. Nothing worked. Every night the terrors recurred. Only after I started seeing Arkarian in the mountain did they ease off. He taught me mind control as well as all the physical skills of self-defence. Action seemed to help. I threw myself into the training so hard that sometimes I just fell asleep at night from pure exhaustion.

  ‘Well, well, look who we have here!’

  I spin around and find myself in the worst company ever – Carter’s. It’s a shock because I never usually meet anyone in the Citadel, except occasionally Arkarian for some last-minute instructions before a mission, especially if something’s changed that I should know about.

  The Citadel is a strange, wondrous place, laced with staircases and winding hallways, rooms decorated in exquisite and intricate detail. This room, though, is a little bizarre, mostly red panelling with a strangely hot feel to it, like a sauna without the steam.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  This is a stupid question really. Carter’s the coordinator, after all, and now that we’re aware that we’re both in the Guard, there’s no need, I guess, for secrecy. This is probably what has him ticked off at me this time.

  ‘You should know, Ethan. You did this, exposing my presence. The Citadel is about the only place now that we can have a conversation without fear of discovery. From here in we’ll be awkward and wary of every action or word together. Are you proud of yourself?’

  ‘Not if I have to bump into you every time I go on a mission.’ I glance around, instinctively shielding my eyes from the red heat, which feels oddly hostile; and I have to wonder if Carter had a hand in selecting this room. It’s no secret he hates me. It would be just like him to use his position to make me feel uncomfortable, or think he’s teaching me a lesson.

  ‘Well, of course you wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so foolish as to reveal yourself to me.’

  ‘I learned my lesson.’

  He stands back, crossing his ankles. ‘I’m not so sure,’ he says. ‘But I will be sure to give appropriate evidence against you before the Tribunal.’

  This surprises me. ‘You’re going to Athens?’

  He smiles. ‘To testify at your trial. I’ve been requested.’ His hand reaches into his pocket, returning with a closed fist. His eyes take on a superior smugness as he unrolls his fingers. ‘I’ll be sure to add this incriminating piece of evidence while I’m there.’

  It’s the paper with Arkarian’s title scrawled across it in my handwriting. Oh, hell! I’ll never get my wings now!

  ‘What did I ever do to you?’ I can’t help asking.

  His head tilts slightly to one side. ‘It’s what you have yet to do, Ethan. And still you make so many mistakes.’

  ‘I’m human. It’s in our nature to make mistakes.’

  ‘Stop thinking of yourself that way. You’re a member of the Guard, and that means you can’t afford to make mistakes. It jeopardises everything and everyone’s lives.’

  A crackling sound startles me and I turn round. It’s not Isabel, but a fire hissing in the fireplace I didn’t notice before. It takes a sudden leap in magnitude. No wonder it’s so hot in here. I swing my attention back to Carter, glad it isn’t Isabel yet. I wonder what could be keeping her. ‘You’re not perfect. Nobody is.’

  ‘But you need to be.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘That you have a lot to learn.’

  Suddenly I’ve had enough of this man. Isabel will be here any second and I have to try and get him moving on to wherever he’s supposed to be going. ‘Listen here, you might be able to get away with speaking to me in that derogatory way in the classroom, but you have no say over me in the Citadel, or anywhere else our paths might cross in history.’

  He acknowledges this with an arrogant lift of his head. ‘Perhaps.’ He moves towards an open doorway; at last he’s leaving. One good step and I’ll be free of him for a while. A prickly sensation grips me and I start scanning the sweltering room again for signs of Isabel. ‘Who are you waiting for?’ Carter asks with one leg out the door and already disappearing from sight.

  ‘What makes you think I’m waiting for anyone?’

  He scoffs, looking superior again. ‘Your inexperience is showing as usual, Ethan. You’re as nervous as a kitten with a ball of wool dangling in front of its nose.’

  The man makes me want to swear and thump his head. Where does he get off being so arrogant? ‘I have an Apprentice.’ Instantly I realise what an idiot I am, playing right into his hands. When will I ever learn? Everything Carter’s just said about me, I’ve gone and proven correct with my big mouth.

  He steps back into the room, his right half reappearing. ‘An Apprentice? They never gave me—’ Shutting up suddenly, he just shakes his head and steps through the doorway.

  The door closes behind him, all signs of it smoothly disappearing, and I realise this is not the room I’m supposed to be in. So what brought me here? That nightmare probably put me off course, sure, but I can’t shake the feeling that Carter had a hand in my detour, though just how is unclear. But he does work in the Citadel. According to Arkarian, he’s a coordinator here. Did he bring me to this room on purpose just so we could have this little chat? The man hates me, that much I know. And I’m getting the feeling his hatred is growing stronger every day. I will have to watch my back.

  Then again, when have I ever been at ease in his company?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Isabel

  I land with a thump and find myself rolling across a surprisingly springy floor. The light is strange in this room, kind of misty and not coming from a single point but more as if it is … just there. The walls are bare and at first the whole room appears white. But then my eyes drift to each of the four tall, narrow pillars that soar for endless metres to a high domed roof of stained and intricately designed glass. It’s as if the walls were drained of their colour so the ceiling could be viewed in all its brilliance.

  I start to get up and suddenly Ethan’s hand stretches out before me. ‘You need to practise your landings.’

  I take his hand and, getting quickly to my feet, notice that while I’m in pyjamas, he had the insight to wear a T-shirt and jeans to bed. ‘Thanks for the warning.’

  ‘Ah, yeah. I thought there was something I forgot.’

  I tug at my pyjama top. ‘Just as well I thought of wearing these. I don’t usually sleep with so much on. Anything else I should know?’

  He shakes his head, again pulling at his mouth. ‘Sorry about that, but I can’t think of anything right now. We have to hurry. It’s hard to tell how long I’ve been here, but it feels like ages. What held you up?’

  He takes my hand and leads me up a wide spiral staircase. Each step of it melts away behind us as we go. ‘I couldn’t get to sleep right away, and then I had this freaky dr
eam.’

  He goes completely still, the stairway half disappearing beneath our feet. It startles me. ‘Ethan!’

  We leap the last few steps to a narrow platform and run straight into another room. ‘The stairwells are very impatient in this place. We’re totally safe now. Tell me about your dream.’

  But the room we’ve just entered has me forgetting the nightmare instantly. ‘Tell you later.’ I see rows and rows of medieval outfits, and all four surrounding walls are adorned with floor-to-ceiling mirrors. ‘Do we get to pick?’

  ‘Just walk past. What you need will select you.’

  Unbelievably that’s exactly what happens. I end up dressed in a long full gown of exquisite blue with a low neckline lined with a white cotton bodice, my feet in soft beige slippers. I take a look at my reflection and see that my hair has been changed to a deep russet brown, piled high at the back, most of it secured with clips and fancy crafted combs, the rest dropping to my shoulders in ringlets. Even my skin appears a different shade, much paler, while my nose and mouth have become definitely rounder. I spin around, holding my full skirt out wide. ‘This is unreal! It’s like I’m a completely different person!’

  Ethan, who is now dressed in brown tights with a cream overshirt drawn in at the waist with a leather belt, has also changed in other ways than simply his clothes. His hair is much darker than his usual brown, longer and thicker too. I take a close look at his face – unbelievable! His nose is fatter while that cute chin has grown markedly square. The look is not good. ‘What happened to you?’

  He shrugs and laughs at his newly acquired square look, then lifts a hand to the ringlets draping my shoulder. ‘The Citadel gives us a new identity. Remember, your mortal body is still in your own bed in your own time. But who you are – your soul – is here.’ He taps the area over his heart, then points to his eyes. ‘And here too.’

  ‘I think I get it. These bodies are kind of a temporary loan until we complete the mission.’