I Belong to the Earth (Unveiled Book 1)

by J. A. Ironside

  Great plan. Brilliant plan. Now what? Grace was dragging me along so quickly, that even with my longer legs, I was struggling to keep up. Or maybe now I'd got her away from Haze, it was reluctance. I cringed at the thought of being dragged all over Arncliffe to find Ciarán in order to ask him which of us he preferred as girlfriend material. My stomach flip-flopped weakly. I didn't want an answer to that question. I didn't want him to guess I even thought of him like that. Why couldn't I annoy Grace into fighting with something else? I could already feel a blush rising in my cheeks.

  Somehow I'd hit on the only thing that could have made Grace leave Haze. She was besotted with him, it wasn't just Kate's insidious presence. Though why pretending I thought I could compete with Grace in a popularity contest had worked, I couldn't imagine. Just look at us. There was no competition. I understood one thing —there were rules to this game. I couldn't force Grace away from Haze, but I could lure her. Just as Haze had been luring her away from us. Grace made the final choice, not that she was thinking all that clearly lately. It wasn't much of a win. Haze had demonstrated how easily he could influence Grace. Maybe because she wanted him too. I was stumbling in the dark and the dark was where Haze lived. All I'd managed was to buy some time.

  The fight went out of Grace just as we passed St Martin's. She let out a low whimper. The bruising grip on my wrist slackened.

  "I don't…I don't feel…right. Gremlin? What are we doing here?" Her blue eyes were full of confusion. For a moment I thought I’d got Grace back. Then my heart sank. The flickering around Grace was increasing again. Haze and Kate were strengthening the pull. "I have to…to go…" Grace swayed on her feet.

  "N-not yet. Ruh rest on the bench." I tugged her over to a memorial bench in the church yard. Grace followed me without complaint which really frightened me. She folded onto the worn wood, looking pinched and white. I'd never get her back to the vicarage like this. I needed to make her fight long enough to get her home safely. I couldn't break Haze's hold…but maybe I could break Kate's?

  "Wha…? How did we get here?" Grace's voice was muffled. She rested her forehead on her knees. Her skin was milky-blue. If she passed out I wouldn't be able to carry her. Think. There had to be a way…I could felt rather than saw that frantic fluttering. The battle going on inside Grace.

  "Gremlin why are we in the grave yard?" her voice was faint but acerbic. "This had better not be any more of your weird shit."

  "N-not. N-nearest buh bench." My mind skipped ahead. I wonder…Does Kate even know she’s dead?

  "Okay, this is boring. I'm going back now." Grace straightened. Her eyes were growing darker again, dashing any hopes I had about her meaning home. Kate was winning.

  "Just a s-sec. L-look at this." I seized Grace's hand and dragged her through the graves.

  "Look at what? Gremlin I'm tired. You've already dragged me all over the moor."

  "One last th-thing…" I hoped this would work. I grabbed her shoulders, bracing myself against the blue jolt of electricity that scorched my palms. I spun my sister towards the arch shaped tombstone, wondering who was I holding, Grace or Kate.

  I had no trouble reading the words this time. As though they were engraved on my mind rather than the weathered stone.

  Catriona Elizabeth Lynfield

  Born 5th May 1769 – Died 29th March 1789

  The righteous shall go into life eternal

  Matthew 25:46

  Thy likeness shall endure unto all generations.

  Psalms 102.

  A chill passed through me. That under water feeling again, like peering through thick wavy glass. Helen rising up in my mind. Too late, I realized my mistake. I'd invited her over the threshold…

  Kate stands before me. Her hair tangles around her. The hem of her gown is torn and spattered with mud. Heaven knows what she has done with her shoes. She is as close to crying as I have ever seen. Only with rage not sorrow. I take an involuntary step back. There is no knowing what she would do in this humour.

  "You told him! You told Papa! You spied on us you shrinking, milk-livered poltroon!" Her eyes promise me that I shall be very, very sorry and soon.

  "I did as I thought best. Your Pa's remedy is nothing to do with me!" Curse my shaking voice. Can I say nothing to her but that it sounds like a dog's whimper? I clench my hands in my apron to stop them shaking.

  "He's sending me away! Helen, he's sending me quite away! What shall I do?" Her rage dies down a little in anguish and in spite of my feelings on her behaviour, I cannot help that my heart goes out to her in her distress.

  "It mightn't be so bad, miss. You'll not be gone long. A year or so at most. Your father must know that you ought to have a lady's example and influence. We're none of us children anymore, miss. You might have harmed yourself a great deal if –"

  "Oh spare me! At least spare me your sanctimonious prattle! I shall go. I don't see how I can help it. But you, Helen, I curse you until the end of your days for your interference! May you burn and blacken and blister without end! May you walk ever without rest! You shall never know love as I know it, I say that to you now. Should I die tonight I will not go to hell as John declares. I shall walk at your side, dogging your steps until you are in the ground with me!" Her eyes gleam with malevolence. It does no good to tell myself that Kate talks out of anger. I have never seen a will so strong as hers. I believe she could do all she says and more besides.

  "Miss, please… We have not always been friends but I meant well. Meant for you to have better. Not to wrong you. Take back those words, I beg you! Surely they will haunt you as much as they will me!" My lips are quivering.

  "I shall not. I shall never forgive you for this Helen! If you want to avoid worse you'll do as I say and take a message to Robbie. Tell him to wait for me. Tell him I'll come back."

  "You curse me then expect a favour, is it?" My own temper, slow to rise, flares hot and bright. "Well, I'll not do it! I'll not. I will not speak to that son of a devil for anything. You may have my word on that." I set my jaw.

  Beyond words with rage Kate flew at me, fingers clawed. I screeched and tried to fend her off. Sharp, raking pain under my left eye…

  …pain under my left eye snapped me back to the present. Grace had gone wild. Her hands were curled into claws. There was blood on her fingertips. My blood. She pulled her hand back as if to rake at my eyes again. I caught her wrist, yelping in alarm.

  "G-Grace! Puh please…"

  She wrestled with me, inhumanly strong. I was flung back against the tombstone, spine striking the hard edge with a crack. My lower back burst into a white flower of agony.

  "Grace w-what…?" I held my hands out ready to catch her or defend myself at need. The first wave of agony had shifted into a sickening throb in time with my too-fast heart. Tears of pain doubled my vision and stung in my cut cheek. She really meant it. Grace really meant to blind me…

  Grace's now dark-brown gaze hooked on the tombstone as she rushed at me again. She stopped, knees locking like a startled foal. A wail of anguish left her mouth. The skin on my neck tightened at the sound. Everything felt cool and loose below my waist. Grace's eyes rolled back in her head and she crumpled into a heap.

  I felt Kate let go. A rush like white noise, like heat, passed inches from my face. I’d done it. I’d won. This round anyway. I’d lured Grace away from Haze and forced Kate to let go. For a moment triumph blotted out the pain.

  Still breathing fast, I hobbled closer, dropping into a winded crouch by her head. Her pulse was fast but strong. Dead white though. And her eyes…Oh Grace. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't leave her. Couldn't go for help. What if Kate came back before I did? Any second now someone from the village would come to see what the noise had been about. I hated the idea of any of them finding us like this but I needed help. As I cast around wildly I caught sight of a thin, shrinking figure. Was that Miss Greers?

  "H-help!" I shouted. "Miss G-Greers, help us!" I was sure she had heard, her shoulders stiffened. But s
he turned away and went into the church as if we weren't even there. I felt blood trickle sluggishly down my face. They weren't going to help. The village wouldn't interfere.

  I was alone.

  Okay. No need to panic. Run. Run to Mrs Cranford, she'll help…My legs wobbled as I tried to stand. In a corner of my mind, that wasn't entirely mine anymore, I felt Helen look down at my sister with smug spite. I tried a shaky step. No good. I wouldn't get far. The church shimmered. No time to faint. I bit my lip hard and the fresh pain cleared my vision.

  "Emlynn? You're bleeding! And Grace—what happened?” Ciarán appeared, wonderfully warm and just as out of place as a shaft of sunlight on a snowy night. We'd found him after all. "You two didn't get into a fight did you?" the flecks of gold in his eyes were dimmed somehow.

  "N-not exactly." Not a fair fight anyway. Definitely two on one. I raised a hand to my cheek, then stopped myself. It didn't matter what I looked like. "Huh help me get her h-home?" I glanced at him. My heart squeezed in my chest. He gazed at Grace with that same tenderness as before. I watched him gather her up without a word, carrying her home for the second day running. Maybe he liked damsels in distress. Pretty ones anyway. Feeling thoroughly depressed, I staggered along behind them, legs and spine screaming every step of the way.

  To complete my misery, Grace came round long enough to smile groggily up at him and say, "Ciarán, we were looking for you. Which of us do you like the best?" Her eyes fluttered shut again.

  Ciarán chuckled softly, as we went through the front door. My face burned.

  "Uh upstairs, please?" I kept my gaze trained on the flagstone floor.

  Ciarán hoisted my sister higher in his arms and followed me up to Grace's room. To get rid of him while I got her out of her dirty clothes, I sent him to put the kettle on. He complied as if sent to retrieve the Holy Grail. I was willing to bet it wasn't for my sake. My eyes stung as I glared after him.

  "You so owe me, Grace," I muttered darkly.

  Grace was breathing evenly, her eyes lightly closed. I pulled the duvet over her. Maybe I should've called a doctor or an ambulance. But then she wasn't sick. She was being possessed. I pinched the bridge of my nose. It was all completely insane. No one would believe me. Not even Grace. Especially not Grace. I didn’t know what else to do. Hope she'd just sleep it off, like a possession was some sort of hangover? I shook my head. Kate had let go at the tombstone. Grace was safe for now. And I was tired and sore and heartsick. I stomped down the stairs. Embarrassment aside, I had no idea what to tell Ciarán.

  I was surprised to find Amy in the kitchen. I’d lost all track of time. My stomach pinched. I was going to have to stop missing lunch. Or maybe Helen could take me back to a memory with food in it since I was trying to help her. I felt a faint hint of smugness that didn't belong to me. Probably not then.

  "Em!" At least Amy was pleased to see me.

  Ciarán was standing in the middle of the kitchen, holding the kettle in one hand and looking confused.

  "Is this Ciarán? She told me all about you." For someone fresh from school, Amy was way too hyper. I wasn't sure my face could get any redder.

  "You'll be Amy, then?" Ciarán smiled. "She's told me a fair bit about you and all.’

  "Only the interesting bits, I hope?" Amy bounced to the sink, swiping the kettle from Ciarán on the way. "Were you going to use this?" She didn't wait for a reply as she filled it and set it on the stove.

  "I'm not sure." Ciarán’s eyes reflected some of the panic I felt. "How did I get here Emlynn?"

  "Y-you helped me with Grace."

  His eyebrows relaxed from their frown. "Of course. This'll sound crazy but I was stood here with no idea what I was doing and no idea how I got here. Talk about zoning out, eh?"

  I gave him a sickly smile. Tell me about it, I wanted to say. Everyone is doing that to me lately.

  "Anyway, how is she?" Ciarán's gaze flicked over my face. "What happened to your cheek?"

  I choked back bubbles of hysterical laughter.

  Where to start? Well, Ciarán, thanks to your godmother's advice, I've mind-melded with a vindictive ghost, who is apparently the only one who knows how to break this Pattern which Grace and I have been sucked into. Really, it's a curse but all you need to know is that it leaves girls dead. Grace is disappearing inside her own skin and tried to claw my face off right before you found us. Then Grace conked out on Kate's grave – we did cover her being Dead and possessing Grace, right? And you carried her home. Again. With that sappy look on your face. Again. But that's ok, everyone fancies Grace. And now you don't remember anything either. Oh and there's another ghost that turns up at my window and tries to get in while I'm sleeping. No idea who that is. But hey the more Dead the merrier, right?

  Nope. No way was I going to be able to get any of that out, even if it wouldn't have made me sound like an escaped lunatic. We'd be here until next week.

  "N-nothing. Luh long story." I forced out. It was possible that I was cracking up.

  Amy gave me a look of alarm and shoved a cup of tea in front of me. Without me needing to ask, she put the sugar bowl beside it. I glanced at her sharply. I’d never told her about that. She just knew I needed it, somehow. I bet she didn't even realise what she was doing.

  Ciarán wouldn't be fobbed off. "What really happened?" He sipped his tea, one winged eyebrow rising into his hairline, as I added sugar to my mug with reckless abandon.

  I shrugged. "M-more freaky st-stuff. Grace's ok. F-for now." I felt better after half a mug of too-sweet tea.

  "Can I help?" Ciarán's voice was warm and concerned.

  I shouldn't have been touched, but I was. It was hard to remember that he didn't feel the same way about me, that I felt about him. When he looked at me like that, it was hard to remember that I shouldn't have feelings for him.

  "C-can't th-think straight now. T-tomorrow?" My tongue was knotting itself up again. Ciarán's warm, hazel-gold gaze didn't help. I swallowed hard.

  "Sure." He broke eye contact with me and I remembered to breathe. "Need to be getting back. Nice to meet you, Amy."

  "Likewise." Amy beamed at him. I couldn't help smiling too. Not many people talked to Amy like an equal. She always warmed to those who did. Besides, Ciarán just had one of those smiles where you couldn't help smiling back. This was hopeless.

  "See you tomorrow then, Em. See you for more tea soon, Amy. You make a rare cuppa."

  Amy giggled. Not even she was immune to his charm. Then Ciarán's expression changed and the rest of us ceased to exist. Grace was standing on the stairs in pale cream pyjamas. Her hair fell around her face in a swirl of chestnut. Her eyes were large and dark and bright. Her lips parted in a soft smile, completing the come-to-bed look.

  "I just wanted to say thank you. For rescuing me again." She dimpled. "You deserve a reward."

  "The pleasure was all mine." Ciarán's voice was breathless and intense. No longer easy-going and teasing. He stared at Grace with piercing ice-blue eyes as if he'd never seen a woman before. Like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time…

  My heart fell out of my chest, hitting the floor, leaving me hollow again.

  Wait.

  Ice-blue?

  Blue like Clayton's eyes.

  Oh hell. Ciarán was part of the Pattern too.

  Helen merely shrugged in the recesses of my mind.