Joe didn’t say anything back to her. He looks like he did when he heard Mark’s voice in his head, Amber thought. He looks like someone who’s been drifting away from everything he knows. Which is what we’re all doing.
She wondered what had happened to Mark. Where had he disappeared to? He must have gone somewhere, she reasoned, but where? Had he been captured by the Lost? Was he even still alive?
They headed on along the motorway. Amber watched out of the window and glanced at the people in cars that they overtook. Every now and then a few of them would look back at her, and on a couple of occasions she felt suddenly scared as their eyes met hers for a brief moment, as if they somehow knew what the four of them were doing and what they were running away from. Drive wherever you want, she imagined them saying. We’ll find you no matter how far you go.
That’s ridiculous, Amber told herself, and eventually she stopped looking out of the window altogether and stared down at her hands instead, wishing that the tight little ball of fear inside her would just melt away.
Sometime later they turned off the motorway and headed along a main road for a short while before turning off that as well, onto a narrower road that didn’t even have any white lines. No other traffic passed their way on this road, although it was so late by now that it was actually starting to get light again.
They turned onto other little roads- she forgot how many altogether- all of which only seemed big enough for one car to get through. There was no way cars could pass each other on this road. But it didn’t matter, because they didn’t meet any other traffic on these roads either.
It was almost completely light by the time they stopped, at the end of a road that opened out into a large farmyard. The farm buildings looked cold and grey in the cool morning light and at first the place looked as if no one lived there.
Amber looked across at Joe. He had wrapped himself up in a blanket that had been lying on the seat between them and was fast asleep. I wish I could fall asleep for a while and escape from this, Amber thought. But I don’t think I could sleep right now, no matter how tired I feel.
She gently woke Joe up, and then they all got out of the car. It was a chilly morning for July, Amber thought- grey and still, more like a March morning.
As the four of them walked across the gravel towards the front door of the farmhouse, the door opened and a man who Amber thought at first must be really old walked slowly out into the yard. She realised after a moment that he wasn’t really that old after all- although his hair was grey- but he walked with a limp and a stoop, and he leaned heavily on a sturdy-looking walking stick.
He shook hands with her dad and Emma, then looked at Joe, and then finally glanced at her. Amber thought there was something a little bit disapproving about the look he gave her, and she wondered why.
“Is this her?” he asked.
“Yes.” Her dad glanced almost apologetically at her. “Amber, this is Patrick.”
“Hello,” Amber said reluctantly. She decided that she didn’t like this man. He didn’t look happy that the four of them were here. In fact he didn’t look as if he spent much time being happy at all. The frown on his forehead looked like it might always be there, and his eyes were cold.
“You must be Joe,” Patrick said as he turned to Joe. Amber was surprised to see him smile slightly. Joe’s the special one, she found herself thinking. But I’m just a mistake. I was never meant to happen.
She looked up at her dad as she thought that, and she could see that somehow he knew what she was thinking. But she wasn’t at all surprised. Even before all this had happened, they had often just known what the other was thinking. They had sometimes even finished each others’ sentences and laughed about it. They had been so close. But now...
I don’t know what’s going to happen now, Amber thought. I feel like my whole life has been swept down a river, and I can’t tell where it will end up.
“Yes,” Joe mumbled. Then he asked quietly, “Why are we here?”
“You’d better all come inside,” Patrick said.
He led them into a small, tidy-looking living-room beyond the flag-stoned hallway, and as they sat down, Patrick looked at Amber’s dad and said, “So- why are you all here?”
“The last of the Guardians has gone,” he replied. “But when he did, we think that he passed something- some part of his powers- on to Joe. Something like this was bound to happen sooner or later, but we had no idea that the Guardian was so near or had reached out to him, until later. We couldn’t even be sure that he would choose Joe. But by that time, the Lost had sensed what had happened. That’s why we’re here...”
“They will keep coming for him,” Patrick said grimly. “They won’t rest. Bringing him here was reckless.”
“Bringing him here has bought us a little time,” Emma interrupted. “The three of us can protect the children until we decide what we have to do. We would have asked for the protection of the Circle, but there wasn’t time.”
Amber thought that Patrick didn’t really agree with that, but he didn’t say anything more on the matter. He went through to the kitchen to make some drinks. Amber could still see him through the doorway, and watched him shake his head at least twice which made her certain that he wasn’t at all happy about the situation.
Amber looked up suddenly. For some reason she thought that it had grown darker outside, although that was impossible – it was early morning and there were no storm clouds anywhere near. At the same time she felt uneasy and looked across at Joe. He seemed afraid, as if he might be thinking the same thing, and he looked even paler than before. Are we imagining it? she wondered.
But everyone else looked like they were aware that something was happening. Patrick came through from the kitchen, and almost as if they had silently agreed to do so, Amber’s dad and Emma both got up from their chairs, both of them looking grimly through the windows as if they were expecting something unpleasant to arrive any minute. Amber felt her stomach crawl when Patrick said quietly, “How could they have found us already?”
“Amber,” her dad said suddenly, kneeling down and lifting her chin a little so she had to look at him, “This is very important. I need you to listen to me and do exactly as I say. Are you listening?”
Amber nodded reluctantly.
“I want you and Joe to go through into the back room down the passageway- there.” He pointed. “You need to stay in there, and don’t come out until one of us tells you.”
“Dad, no!” Amber started to panic. “I want to stay with you! It’ll be safer! Please...”
“No, Amber. This is important. You need to do as I say and shut the door behind you both. Promise me that you won’t leave the room until we come back.”
“No!” she pleaded again, but he gave her a look as if to say there was no use arguing. “Go,” he said, and this time she nodded tearfully and walked with Joe to the back room. She took one final look back just as she was about to follow Joe into the room. Emma, her dad and Patrick were heading down the hallway towards the front door. They seemed to be moving slowly, and she thought for a moment that they looked somehow brighter than everything around them. Outside it looked darker than ever, and she could now also hear a strong breeze that had started up.
Joe dragged her in and closed the door behind them. They heard the front door opening and then closing a moment later. The wind sighed around the farmhouse, stronger than ever. Amber thought it sounded as if it was blowing from all sorts of different directions at the same time.
Suddenly they heard floorboards creaking above their heads, and they looked at each other in alarm.
“Do you think there’s someone up there?” Joe whispered.
“Maybe it’s just the wind,” Amber said, although she didn’t believe herself. Who would be up there? she wondered.
“Are they going to be all right?” Joe asked her then, and she looked away from him, shrugging. She had no idea whether they were going to be all right or not, and she didn’t even w
ant to think about it. All she wanted was for the front door to open again and to hear their voices telling her everything was fine now and the two of them could come out.
The floorboards creaked again, more loudly this time, and the sound repeated itself, moving towards the far corner of whichever room was above them.
I don’t understand, Amber thought, frowning in puzzlement. If there was someone else here all along, why didn’t Patrick say something? Why wouldn’t he mention that there was someone else here? Why wouldn’t whoever it is have come downstairs and introduced themselves?
Joe craned his neck and looked up exactly at the spot where they had heard the last creak. He stayed like that for what seemed like ages, although it couldn’t have been more than a minute, Amber guessed. All the while, the storm lashed furiously around the house. The wind almost sounded human, Amber thought. She had never heard anything like it before, and it frightened her even more than the pitch darkness which filled her view through the window.
“It’s going to get us if we don’t do something,” Joe said finally. He was still staring up at the ceiling as if he expected whoever was wandering around upstairs might fall through it at any moment.
“We were told to stay here,” Amber said, but at the same time an awful thought occurred to her. What if it wasn’t safe here at all? What if this was all a trap? A picture of Patrick’s expression when he looked at her came back to her. Maybe he had looked a little bit more than just disapproving. Maybe he wasn’t just annoyed at having to put up with a girl who had no business being here. Maybe he was...
“It’s trying to come down,” Joe said quietly.
“Wh...what do you mean?” Amber stammered, but she already knew what he meant.
Joe was about to say something, but then a different noise started up in the room above them. It sounded like frantic scratching, but it came from different areas of the ceiling at the same time, as if lots of different people- or things- were up there, scraping at the wooden beams or the plaster as if they were trying to make holes in the ceiling to peer at them through.
Amber thought she might be about to scream. Somehow she stopped herself.
“We have to go,” Joe said softly. “They’ve found us. Maybe they knew we were going to come here. They were hunting Mark. Now they’re hunting me.”
“We can’t go!” Amber shouted. “We have to wait! You heard what my dad said. They’ll come back...”
Joe walked over until he was standing directly in front of her. “Maybe they will,” he said, “but they won’t come back in time.”
He looked up at the ceiling again, and Amber followed his gaze. Her mouth hung open in horror as she saw what had now started to happen. In places all across the ceiling- the areas where the scratching was happening, she thought wildly- dark lines and shapes had started to form, as if some strange fast-moving mould was spreading across it.
Somehow she managed to drag her eyes away from the scene, and walked a few steps towards the door. But Joe put his arm around hers, pulling her back. “No,” he said quietly. “We’ll never make it out. And even if we did, there are things out there as well...”
Amber swallowed, trembling. “Who is doing all of this?”
Joe didn’t reply. He held her shoulders tightly. “You need to hold me as well,” he said.
“What are you doing?” she demanded. “Joe, what are you doing?!”
“I don’t know,” he said, tears in his eyes. “But this is the only way. I didn’t know before, but I do now. Hold on to me, Amber. And whatever you do, don’t let go.”
Amber had no idea what he was talking about, but she thought for one mad moment that the wind outside did. It became louder than ever, lashing at the window and rattling all the doors as if it was desperate to get to them before Joe did whatever he was going to do. The scratching upstairs became more frantic than ever, and they heard a loud thumping start up. The threads of blackness continued to creep across the ceiling. In one corner, something started to slowly drip downwards. It looked like tar, but Amber felt certain that it was something far worse.
She held Joe’s shoulders, her hands shaking. Joe closed his eyes and his grip on her tightened so much that it hurt. Amber thought about trying to wriggle free, but then she realised that something was changing all around them. The room appeared fainter somehow, the walls greyer. She could hardly hear the storm outside; it had lessened to a faint roar that sounded more like a distant ocean than a violent hurricane trying to break down the walls of the farmhouse. Even the awful noises from upstairs had become strangely muffled, and the ceiling no longer looked anything other than pristine and whitewashed.
Amber’s view of the room faded in and out; she thought for a moment that she might faint. Joe is doing all this, she thought, not knowing what it was that he was doing or how. She held on tightly to him, afraid of what might happen if she dared to let go.
Then his eyes flickered open, and Amber stared in shock. His eyes were blue, but now they were somehow extra blue, bright and clear and somehow full of knowledge about things he couldn’t possibly know. They looked like they had at the river, but even brighter.
The room around them faded away almost to nothing, becoming a white haze, and both Joe and Amber collapsed to the floor.
Chapter 9
Amber’s eyes flickered open. All she could see at first were the floorboards of the room and the wall across from her.
She sat up, and realised straight away that something had changed- but she had no idea how.
It’s silent all around, she thought, but it’s somehow more than silent.
Her memory of what had happened quickly came back to her, and she looked up at the ceiling- which looked white and clean- and then across at the window. It was light outside. She couldn’t hear even the slightest breeze.
“Joe,” she said, and when his eyes flickered open she saw that they looked normal again. Maybe I imagined it, she thought. But I know I didn’t imagine everything that happened.
Amber pointed outside. “The storm’s gone,” she said, and got shakily to her feet. Despite her promise to her dad, she headed to the door and made her way out down the passageway and into the front room. Somehow she knew that for the time being it was safe.
She slowly opened the front door.
The first thing that struck her was that the air felt strangely warm and flat. It wasn’t just as if there was no wind. It felt as if the air itself hung over the land, a bit like how it was just before a thunderstorm.
But Amber didn’t reckon there was going to be a thunderstorm. High, light grey cloud covered the sky, and it looked pretty much the same whichever way she looked. There were no thunderclouds. There were no patches of blue sky. She couldn’t even tell where the sun was.
Thinking about that made her wonder what the time might be. She glanced down at her watch and frowned, puzzled to see that it had stopped at exactly five thirty in the morning.
That was around the time we got to the cottage, she thought, or just after.
Then Amber noticed that her dad’s car was no longer parked on the gravel outside.
“They’ve gone,” she murmured, but as she wandered over to take a closer look she noticed something even stranger. There were no tyre marks or any sign that they had even arrived or gone- she could not find anything to show that they had been here at all.
“This doesn’t make sense,” she said.
“What doesn’t?” Joe asked from behind her, making her jump. Somehow, despite the noise of the gravel she hadn’t even been aware of him walking up behind her.
“They’ve gone,” she murmured. “But I can’t see how. There aren’t even any tyre prints in the muddy bit over there just before the yard.”
“I don’t think this is the same place,” Joe said.
Amber turned round, suddenly realising what he had just said. “What do you mean, it’s not the same place? Of course it is.”
Joe shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He
turned and pointed to the front door of the cottage. “Do you remember that sign being on the door when we got here? I don’t.”
Amber stared at what looked like a large, complicated burn mark in the door. It appeared a little bit like a Chinese symbol that someone had burned onto the wood. “Maybe it was made by whatever those things were that we heard out in the storm.”
“The walls are a different colour. They were just grey stone before, now they’re whitewashed, just like the ceiling in the room.”
As Amber stared at the walls of the farmhouse, Joe pointed towards the land that lay beyond it, in particular the hill that rose gently into the distance. Amber could see a windmill in the distance near the top of the hill. “Do you remember any of that?” he asked her.
Amber felt the blood draining from her face as she stared in disbelief at the landscape. “No,” she said faintly after a while. “Joe, what’s happening? This can’t even be real. What if all of this is some dream that we’re both having?”
“It isn’t,” he said. “I know it isn’t, because...” He looked across at her. “I’ve been to this place before, Amber. Not this exact place, but a forest near here. When I was in the river with Mark, I was here for a short while. I remember it now. Or maybe he showed me a dream of it. But either way I remember it.”
“Showed you a dream?” Amber couldn’t imagine what that was like.
“I don’t know. I don’t remember much else about it, but I do remember that much.”
“Joe, we have to be dreaming,” Amber insisted, her voice trembling. “This can’t be real!”
“What about everything that happened?” he replied. “Do you think all of that was a dream as well? You remember getting here, don’t you?” I do. You remember what happened in that room...”
Summer's Dark Waters Page 6
