by Megan Tayte
‘But my sister was – is – unswayable. She’s headstrong, stubborn, impossible to talk around about anything.’
‘I thought so too. Otherwise I’d have been more careful. I thought she saw through Daniel. I didn’t know until it was too late that he’d got to her.’
‘You found out what she meant to do the night of the party, the night she died?’
‘No. All she told me that night was that she’d chosen his way over mine. Which made no sense at all.’
‘“His way” – what do you mean?’
He was immersed in using a thumbnail to scratch at a knot in the wooden table.
‘Jude? What way?’
‘Daniel and Gabriel and the others, they live separately from the rest of us.’
‘Why?’
‘Because they’re outcasts. Gabriel was cast out years and years ago, and we have nothing to do with him and everyone who’s followed him since. Daniel included.’
‘Why?’
The knot on my grandmother’s kitchen table was fast developing into a hole.
‘Jude,’ I said. ‘Aren’t we past all this by now?’
He looked up. ‘What?’
‘I don’t need the careful buildup. Just out with it: what’s the deal with these outcasts?’
‘The Fallen, that’s what we call them.’
‘As in fallen angels.’
He nodded.
‘I thought Ceruleans weren’t angels.’
‘We’re not! We may have some of the power, but we’re woefully human – riddled with faults and weaknesses. But the Fallen aren’t just fallible. And the name’s too kind on them. They didn’t fall into what they are. They jumped willingly. They want to be that way. It’s… it’s…’
He picked up his mug and took a gulp, as if the drink would obliterate the distaste written all over his face. Judging by his wince, my particular brand of coffee was not up to the task.
‘So…’ he said grimly. He looked at me, and I got the sense he was waiting for some realisation to dawn.
‘Jude, it’s –’ I checked the clock above the Aga – ‘midnight. My brain is mush. You’re going to have to spell it out.’
‘Power,’ he said. ‘That’s what it comes down to. Remember on your birthday, the day we talked, when you asked me what I am, what you are? I told you then what a Cerulean can do.’
‘They heal.’
‘We do, yes. But our light makes us capable of more.’
More? Jude healed. Sienna healed. I healed. Ceruleans healed.
‘A Cerulean can preserve life, Scarlett,’ said Jude. ‘But he can also take life.’
I’d heard the words before. He had told me. But it had got lost in the revelations – Sienna, out there; me, dying, dying. Now, I couldn’t take my eyes off his hands. Ordinary enough, but I had seen them alight with power. Had they –
He saw my expression and his chair shrieked on the tiled floor as he shot up. ‘I can, but I do not, Scarlett! I have never…’
‘Okay.’
‘I will never!’
‘I believe you.’
‘You should!’
‘I do!’
He let out a breath and collapsed into the chair. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s just – you shall not kill. We of Cerulea hold that law as sacred. The Fallen, not so much.’
‘You’re talking about euthanasia, right? Ending pain and despair for people who are suffering.’
Jude’s face twisted. ‘No, Scarlett. There’s nothing merciful in what they do. They maim. They torture. They violate. They murder. And sometimes, when it suits them, they abuse the ability to bring life as well. They resurrect the dead – those who aren’t meant to walk the earth.’
‘Why, though? Why would they do any of that?’
‘Because they can. Because they’re drunk on their own power. Because they lack any respect for the natural laws. Because they think themselves gods.’
‘But –’
‘Remember the story in the news recently, about the man found dead in an alleyway in Exeter?’
I balked as I recalled the headline – the poor man had been decapitated.
‘And the woman in Bodmin, who was found torn apart? No Beast of Bodmin did that.’
‘That’s sick! Daniel is –’
‘A killer. They all are.’
‘But Sienna!’
My sister’s name shook the disgust out of Jude. Now he was just pale and still and sad.
‘She’s with Daniel! She can’t have known.’
Jude shook his head. ‘She did know. When we argued, that last night, when she told me her decision, she said she knew what the Fallen were, and she wanted to be one of them.’
‘I don’t believe it!’
‘Neither did I. But there was no arguing with her. When she stormed off, I went straight to Cerulea for help. By the time I got back, though, Luke had raised the alarm and they were on the beach, searching for her. I was too late.’ He dropped his head. ‘I found the diary here, on her bed. There was a note to me stuck to the front. She told me to give the diary to you. But I read it first. And then I understood.’
‘Well, I’m glad you do, because I don’t at all! Why would she choose the Fallen?’
Jude reached across the table and picked up the notebook. He opened it to the last page and read: ‘Gabriel swears he won’t send Daniel for Scarlett. He’ll have me, and that will be enough. Scarlett will be safe. With Jude… She’ll be happy in his world.’
The kitchen went very still, as if someone had leaned on the universe’s pause button, and then I dropped my coffee. The mug slammed on the table and pitched sideways, sending a brown rivulet across the wood and over the edge. Neither of us moved to stop the flow.
‘She cut a deal,’ said Jude. ‘With Gabriel. She went willingly with Daniel on the condition they wouldn’t come for you. She chose a future with death to give you one with life. She sacrificed herself for you, Scarlett. She died the way she did for you.’
This is what really matters, my sister wrote: ‘What would you die for?’
The answer: to protect the person you love the most.
20: SUNRISE
‘Are you sure?’ said Jude later, much later. After the storm.
We were standing, side by side, in my sister’s bedroom, at the window that gave the best view over the cove, staring out into the last of the night. We’d been there a while, but not remotely as long as we’d remained at the kitchen table.
‘I’m sure,’ I told him. Again.
‘When the time comes, you’ll choose me?’
There was nothing to see through the window, only shadows, but I fancied I could make out, far off in the village, an angular house with a pinkish hue. The Cavendish house.
‘I will choose you, Jude,’ I said. ‘I promise.’
The words felt wrong on my lips, but they were unequivocally right. I could not choose Luke. It was not an option. I could only choose to save the sister who had saved me.
Was she out there right now, thinking of me? Missing me? Was she hurting? What was her life like with those people? Jude had been adamant that she wouldn’t be harmed; the Fallen didn’t hurt their own. But they’d wanted her enough to Claim her – why? What use was she to them?
Or me, for that matter. They’d wanted me as well. Until she’d bargained with them for my life, my second life, to give me a future free from the Fallen and all they stood for. The memory she’d written of in her diary – her shielding me from the sight of paramedics dealing with our unconscious mother. I tried to stand between Scarlett and the Bad Thing, she wrote. All these years later she’d done it again. She’d faced the horror so I wouldn’t have to. But this time, I would not leave her standing alone.
Jude believed I could save her. He had tried, in the kitchen, to explain how. I’d cut him off. I didn’t care how – his conviction was good enough for me. If there was even the slimmest of chances that I could get Sienna away from the Fallen, I would take it. She des
erved that. Because once I had been her everything, and she mine.
Flashes of blue in the reflection on the glass distracted me. Across the room, in the light of a lamp, Jude was slowly rotating the rock he had given my sister.
‘I gave it to her to symbolise Becoming,’ he explained. ‘It’s called chalcanthite. A copper mineral that reforms. It crystallises, and then dissolves. And then, afterwards, it recrystallises. Different to before, but in essence the same. Like you will be.’
The colour was mesmerising. Like the Cerulean light. Like Luke’s eyes. Like, as my sister had written, the wildflower meadow we’d once played in together as children.
‘You don’t need to be afraid, Scarlett. You won’t be lost, or alone. When you wake up I’ll be right there, and you’ll be everything you’ve always been. And in time, you’ll be happy again.’
‘Where will I be?’
‘Cerulea.’
‘What’s it like there?’
‘Peaceful. Beautiful.’
‘You move between there and here. I want to do that too.’
He put the rock down then and came to stand close to me. ‘We’ve been over and over this. You know it doesn’t work that way. You can’t come back. You won’t be able to Travel. Or stay in touch at all. It’s just not possible.’
‘Please, Jude. Please. There must be a way. There’s more than you and my sister and me to think about in all this. There’s my mother, and Luke, and Cara. I can’t just abandon them, I can’t do what Sienna did. That would be unnecessarily cruel.’
‘But don’t you see? You’ll have moved on. And to keep those people hoping, waiting, when you’ll never return to them – that would be unnecessarily cruel.’
‘Never?’
‘Never. You’ll be dead to them, Scarlett.’
The word resounded in the stillness of the night. Dead. Dead. Dead.
He saw me flinch and added quickly, ‘I’m sorry, but there’s no other way. They’ll have to let you go. And you’ll have to let them go.’
There was no arguing with him. The future he represented was right now as solid as that blue rock. I turned away and leaned my forehead on the glass of the window. It was cold on my skin. The darkness outside was so thick I may as well have had my eyes closed. But I kept them open. Until, finally, I saw it: the first glow of dawn on the horizon.
‘How many more sunrises do you think I have?’
‘How many do you need to say goodbye?’
‘All of them.’
‘Are you sure?’
That question again, but odd in the context. I looked around to find he was studying me carefully. ‘What?’ I said. ‘What do you mean?’
He took a deep breath, but then shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
Sighing, I turned back to the sunrise. ‘I want to know how much time I have, Jude. It affects everything I do from here.’
‘I don’t know exactly,’ he said. ‘Sienna lasted several months before the sickness really set in. But you’ve pushed further than her. With Luke the other day, all that light you gave him – that kind of healing comes at a cost. I can sense it in you, the darkness. It’s slight still. But it’s growing.’
‘Will I see the leaves turn?’
‘I think so.’
‘Will I see them fall?’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Will I see them regrow in the spring?’
‘No.’
Time – that was what I’d wished for. It would be selfish to wish for it now, knowing that the longer I lived, the longer Sienna was alone. But all the same, I did. I wanted every moment I could have. I wanted to choose life, choose Luke, for as long as possible.
I thought about my sister’s diary entries, undated but depicting a journey from normality to death that spanned some time – enough time to make memories, to discover what it means to be truly alive, to feel ready, finally, one night to give it all up. She would want that for me, I thought. She would understand my wish.
Warm fingers brushed mine.
‘Is it… can I?’
I nodded, and Jude took my hand.
Amber warmth was leaking across the sea now, chasing off the shadows.
‘You seem so… calm,’ he said.
‘I did not being calm,’ I reminded him. ‘Downstairs.’
‘But then something changed.’
‘Yes.’
He didn’t push for an explanation; he just held my hand and stood silently beside me. As he would to the very end, and beyond. He was the only one who could do that for me. He was the only one who could really know me. He deserved my honesty.
‘I guess it’s about meaning,’ I said. ‘It always has been, really. When Sienna died, I couldn’t accept it, because there was no meaning to it. It made no sense for her to just give up on life. Then, finally, when I found out that she was ill, it made sense. Her death had meaning.
‘It was quieter inside me then. I was happy. The best summer – the best days I’ve ever had. But then Bert’s spirit… and Luke, healing Luke… and you in the garden telling me you’re here to take me. Every bit of calm shattered. Since then, all I could think was that I don’t want to die – I’m not ready, not now, when I’ve finally found the place I want to be and the people I want to be with.
‘But not wanting it doesn’t stop it happening. Death is coming – even without you telling me I can feel it. It’s inevitable. I can’t change it. So all I can do is surrender. Accept it. And find some meaning.’
‘That’s what changed tonight.’
‘Yes.’
This is what really matters, my sister wrote: ‘What would you die for?’
The answer: to protect the person you love the most.
‘I have every reason to live, Jude. But tonight I found a reason to die. My sister died for me. And so when I die, it will be for her. I will go with you. I will Become a Cerulean. For her.’
He quit standing beside me then, quit holding my hand. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly. I hugged him back – God knew I needed to be held.
‘What will you do now?’ he said when I broke away.
I looked out once more, not at the glorious sky but at the sea, which would soon be blue, not black. I pressed my palm to the glass, as if I could touch all that was waiting for me out there. ‘I’ll see a world in a grain of sand,’ I told him, ‘and a heaven in a wildflower. Hold infinity in the palm of my hand, and eternity in an hour.’
‘Huh?’
I smiled. ‘William Blake. Romantic poet.’
‘Oh. What does all that mean?’
‘It means I’ll live a lifetime in the moments I have left,’ I said. ‘I’ll live. I’ll live. I’ll make the living meaningful. And then… I’ll die.’
PART 2: MERIDIAN
21: WOW
‘Holy –’
‘Jeez Louise!’
‘My giddy aunt…’
‘******!’
‘Wow. Oh, wow.’
‘Si – what the…?’
Of the excited people standing on the vast balcony overlooking Fistral Bay, Newquay, I was the only one who was silent. All I could think was I’d never seen so much sky in all my life.
‘Seriously, Si,’ said Luke beside me, ‘when you said you’d sort the accommodation, I was thinking caravans, or a grotty B&B. This is…’
‘Paradise,’ sighed Cara to my other side.
She was right.
A five-bedroomed penthouse in an exclusive development right near the tip of the headland. Inside, the finish was bright and modern and luxurious, from the sixty-inch TV and the ten-seater corner sofa to the vast polished dining table and the candy-striped Smeg fridge. Even the bin was fancy. But it was outside that drew the eye – through row upon row of floor-to-ceiling windows. Here, out on the wide, decked balcony that wrapped around three sides of the apartment, the panoramic views through and above the glass panelling were breathtaking: across the golf course to the town of Newquay beyond, and over all of Fist
ral Bay, from the crescent moon of sand to the wide expanse of sea. There couldn’t have been a better view in the whole town.
Lined up along the barricade, we took in the sight. There were thirteen of us: Luke and me, and Cara and Kyle. Si, of course, the organiser, and his date for the weekend – an impossibly beautiful brunette from London who’d introduced herself as ‘Tamara with a T’. Geoff, and a petite Chinese girl called Lucy, whom he’d recently started seeing. Big Ben, a huge blond guy, and his stunning, dark and dusky Amazonian girlfriend, Mouse. And finally, the footloose and fancy-free threesome: freckly, lanky Liam, ginger Andy and olive-skinned Duvali. The only missing member of the gang was of the furry variety; we’d left him with Bert’s neighbour, Mrs Hobbs. Good job too, I thought, given the swankiness of this place. Chester wasn’t an executive apartment kind of dog.
‘Si, fifty a head?’ Andy was saying. ‘I know you’re a smooth-talking son-of-a-, but how did you swing that?’
Si gave one of his trademark grins. ‘It’s all legit. Well, except the three of you, who’ll be crashing on the sofa while we couples have a room each.’
‘Doesn’t bother me, mate,’ said Liam. ‘I’ll sleep anywhere, me. Bath. Floor. Hot tub.’ He eyed the huge spa on the deck longingly.
‘Go ahead, fire it up,’ said Si. ‘Andy, tunes?’
‘I’m on it.’
‘Duvali, come and help me lug the booze up from the garage.’
And in a moment, the ‘Ooo, view!’ session was over and people were marching about everywhere.
‘Come on,’ said Cara, grabbing Kyle’s hand. ‘Let’s bag us a room.’
Luke watched them go, and then said, ‘Shall we?’
I blinked at him. ‘Shall we what?’
‘Go choose a room?’
Oh boy.
The original plan had been for Cara and me to share a room, and Luke to bunk in with Kyle (the king-size beds were zip-and-locks that could split out into twins). But somewhere along the journey here, while I’d been half-asleep on Luke’s shoulder catching up after my very long night, the plan had apparently changed. Leaving me to spend the next three nights in a big bed in a romantic setting with Luke. Hence:
