Emma felt winded. Try as she might her body refused to respond and every other thought returned to the look her father had given her. Did he see me? She couldn’t be sure. Surely he’d recognise me, wouldn’t he? The thoughts raced though Emma’s head. Everything else was forced out as she tried to make sense of what had happened to her. What if he didn’t see me but only sensed me? What if he knew someone was near but didn’t know who or what? That was worse wasn’t it?
The thought that she might have upset her father in some way by going back to the house caused her to fall back to the ground as her legs gave way again. A set of arms caught her but they weren’t the slender, willowy arms of Taryn slowing her fall. These were strong and lifted her instead. She looked around to see herself facing the couple she had glimpsed on the journey into London Bridge.
“I saw you on the train.”
“Yes, you did, and we should leave before it gets any later than it already is.” The man looked her directly in the eye and, using the arm that was still under her armpit, directed her towards the north end of the bridge.
“Who are you?” Taryn was adjusting her pace to keep up with the couple who were half-walking half-dragging Emma along the bridge.
The woman turned to look at Taryn, her eyes boring into her “We are guides. We’ve been watching you since you left this morning. Can you cross over under your own energy or do you need my help?”
Taryn looked stunned and for a second didn’t know what to say.
“It’s not a difficult question, girl. Can you cross over? We do not have much time.”
“Erm yes, yes, I can.”
“Well then we should do it now.” The man whispered something to the woman who hung back for Taryn. Emma watched as she said something but she couldn’t hear what was said. Instead she was overcome by the familiar feelings of dropping and rushing forward at the same time as she crossed over to a familiar marble structure with gas lamps and recesses. A second later she was joined by Taryn and the woman as they re-entered the realm.
Emma felt a hand touch her right cheek and guide her head round until she was facing the man who was still supporting her. She looked into a set of grey green eyes that posed questions of her without their owner saying a word.
“You need to pull yourself together. There’s no time to wallow in your own grief. Can you do that?”
Emma didn’t respond and felt a sharp sting on her right cheek closely followed by the shouted protests of Taryn behind her. She started to focus on the man in front of her and again felt the stinging pain, only this time in her left cheek.
“You need to pull yourself together, now.” This time it wasn’t a question. The man was clasping her shoulders and Emma knew she had to respond otherwise they were likely to be shaken until her arms dropped off.
“I’m sorry. I’m okay, I really am.”
“That remains to be seen. Tell me where we are.”
“We’re on London Bridge.”
“Good. We’re on London Bridge. We need to move now before we get caught outside.” The man looked towards Taryn and the other woman. “Are we ready over there? Good.”
Emma watched the man’s eyes flit over her right shoulder and then back to her.
“If you can’t keep up, let me know and I’ll carry you.”
Before Emma had a chance to respond, he had turned and was heading to the north end of the bridge. She watched as the mist floating past the nearest gas lamp threatened to engulf him. She hurried forwards until she could be sure that he wasn’t going to be lost from view. Behind her she could hear the footsteps of Taryn and the other woman.
The four of them left the bridge in silence and Emma followed the man as he came to a halt at the junction of King William Street and Gracechurch Street. He slipped back against the brickwork of a large building on the corner and motioned for the others to do the same. He was looking for something in the road ahead and his eyes never seemed to rest as they swept from left to right. Emma was reminded of the first time she met Father Eamon and the way he had protected her in the doorway as the Gentle Men had hunted for her. Now his eyes seemed to fix on a spot enveloped in darkness. A figure emerged from the shadows and made its way over to them.
“Sister Ignacia, how are we doing?”
“We should leave now. I have checked to roads around. There is no one out but you can be sure that we are being watched.”
Their voices were little more than urgent whispers but Emma felt a wave of relief to see someone she recognised. Taryn must have heard Sister Ignacia’s voice because she stepped forward to embrace her but Sister Ignacia raised a finger to her mouth and pointed to the buildings around them.
“We do not have much time, it will be dark soon and we cannot afford to be caught outside. They are getting more daring and do not seem to care much for the rules any more.”
They stepped out into the street and ran across the road before heading towards Tower Hill. Sister Ignacia led the way and they all kept close together. Occasionally they would stop and wait for a few minutes before carrying on, only moving when Sister Ignacia had ensured the way was clear. In this way, they moved from street to street until they found themselves at the junction of Fenchurch Street and Mark Lane, only a few hundred yards away from the sanctuary. Sister Ignacia disappeared from view as she slipped round a corner.
“Where is she going?”
“She is going to ensure that there is no one waiting for us when we move across Fenchurch Street.” The man responded without taking his eyes off the road in front of him. They danced between pavement and rooftops, never stopping for more than a second in any one place.
“Well if there are, won’t she be in trouble?”
The man turned towards Emma, his eyes registering confusion, “What do you mean trouble?”
“Well she’s on her own. What happens if she’s attacked?”
This brought a smile in response, “If anybody’s going to attack Sister Ignacia, they’d better bring an army. I can’t imagine anybody causing her to break into a sweat let alone beating her.”
Emma heard a crunching noise behind her as Taryn shifted her weight between her feet. In the dark silence that enveloped them, her imagination started to take hold and she started to see eyes all around on rooftops and looking out from windows. Shadows became people and reflections took on a life of their own. She wanted nothing more than to get back to the sanctuary and knew there could only be minutes before the sun finally gave up the fight against the encroaching night.
As her eyes moved along the high, flat facades of the buildings that lined the street, she caught the faintest twitch of a curtain behind a sash window and froze. In an instant it was gone but she was sure she saw a face watching her before disappearing behind the heavy canvass of the curtain. At that moment Sister Ignacia arrived back.
“We have less time than I thought, agents are abroad and we must not stay here.” Her voice was calm but her eyes were alert and sharp.
“We must run if we are to beat the sun.”
Emma found herself being dragged to her feet. She was shoved into the road and the sounds she heard behind her told her that Taryn was getting the same treatment. They were only two streets from the sanctuary but Emma knew that behind her the sun had set. The shadows started to merge into one black mass as the temperature dropped sharply. Her breath started to crystallise in front of her and she knew they had run out of time. Above her, a scraping noise could be heard from the roof of one of the surrounding buildings. Sister Ignacia looked up trying to work out its direction.
“They are coming out, we have no time to lose.”
They turned the corner into Seething Lane and the entrance to the sanctuary came into sight as the last vestiges of light gave way to the night. The gate creaked open in anticipation of their arrival and they all fell through into the garden. Emma heard a metallic rattle then bang as it closed behind them. It was followed almost immediately by a deep groan and a whinnying noise as somet
hing large and black flew past the archway, momentarily cloaking the scene outside in an impenetrable dark veil before heading off towards Thames Street.
Emma looked up but whatever had caused it was gone, she turned around just in time to see the look of concern on Sister Ignacia’s face.
“What was that?”
“Emma, we must get in first.”
Sister Ignacia stood up and hurried to the tower door. As she opened it she looked back into the street, her eyes scanning from one end to the other. Emma felt a hand on her back and the man motioned for her to go inside. She walked in and found herself in a main hall empty of everybody except Father Eamon and a man who seemed to be taking orders. They were in conversation when the noise of Emma’s entrance caused them both to turn.
“Emma, you’re safe, that’s good.”
Father Eamon looked over Emma’s shoulder as Sister Ignacia came through the door closely followed by Taryn and the man and woman who had grabbed them on the bridge.
“Ignacia, was anybody hurt?” Sister Ignacia shook her head.
Father Eamon turned to Emma, “Emma, how are you?”
“I’m okay. What’s going on?”
Emma saw Sister Ignacia exchange a look with Father Eamon. Father Eamon looked over to the man and woman who were now standing a little way off and nodded a thank you to them at which point they turned and headed through the far door before disappearing from view.
“I have heard what happened at your home today. Do you understand what took place?”
Emma just looked blankly at him. She couldn’t process anything right then, let alone an explanation as to what had taken place hours earlier but she attempted a response.
“Dad saw me.” Her voice was weak and trailed off before the last words were spoken.
“No, he didn’t, he sensed you. That is completely different.”
Emma looked at him, the difference seemed obscure at best.
“Your father is dying, Emma, that makes him more receptive to outside influences such as people from this plane standing close and giving off a transferral of their energy. He can sense you but he cannot see you. That is why he thought you were death. Do not be upset by what happened, it is unfortunate but it won’t affect him.”
“What do you mean it won’t affect him? What about affecting me?” Emma knew it wasn’t his fault and that the anger was aimed inward but she had no way of working it through except to vent it on those around her. It had been the same when she was alive and she thought that she should be doing better at school or university. She would snap at family and friends until she learned to control it as she got older, but it had not been easy.
Now she felt the familiar tide of resentment and anger rising in her chest and knew she should walk away before it overflowed but she was too tired to do anything except sit on the bench and run her hands through the soft materials of her trousers.
“Why didn’t you warn me that might happen? Why is it that every time something happens, I find myself having to start all over again?”
Father Eamon leant forward taking Emma’s hands in his, “I cannot prepare you for everything that will happen to you in this plane, Emma. I would love to but I cannot. That is all part of the challenge of your trial. All I can do is train you in the skills that you will need to complete your time here and guide you as best I can. There is a difference between what I can do and what I would like to do.”
Emma wanted to respond but her eyes were shutting down and she could barely stay awake.
“Emma, go to bed, we can talk about this in the morning, you have had a long day.”
She didn’t argue, choosing instead to head towards the stairs. She became aware of someone by her side as she walked and realised that Taryn had joined her. Emma climbed the stairs to her room with her head full of the pictures of her father. She didn’t see the looks of concern that followed her as she left the hall.
Chapter Seventeen
Rules Broken
Father Eamon stood in the marble chamber waiting on the Council members. The message had been urgent, requiring him to make his way to the Council chambers immediately. As muffled conversations bounced mutely off the columns around him, he waited quietly for the Council to address him whilst trying not to show his concern and keeping his mind as closed down as possible.
“Father Eamon, you are right to be concerned.” Gabriel’s voice broke the silence. The playfulness was no longer there, replaced instead by a tension Father Eamon had not heard before. “It seems that we underestimated our friends at Newgate. They have been aware of Emma for longer than we thought.”
Father Eamon’s heart sunk as he turned to face the direction of Gabriel’s voice. “How much longer?”
“Long enough for them to arrange for her to be pushed in front of a lorry and then to try to snatch her before we arrived.”
Father Eamon groaned, he had suspected this for a while but had hoped he was wrong. “How do we know this?”
“The Cad Angelus are not the only ones with spies. It is they who have been working to confirm this.”
“If this is the case, then this should make life simpler for us should it not? They have killed a woman and brought her to the plane illegally. This is expressly forbidden and they will have to forfeit her.”
“These rules were put in place to punish individual transgressors, Eamon. This appears to emanate from high up. We cannot be sure how high but it would be fair to say that we would not get very far quoting treaty provisions on this one.
“They have been planning this for some time and have managed to keep it quiet from us. It is only blind luck that the mystics saw what was happening at the last minute and we sent you; otherwise she would have been lost to us…and there is something else.”
Father Eamon sensed the atmosphere change in the chamber. The temperature dropped and his forearms started to tingle, “Go on.”
“They have sent an assassin, a Soul Gorger.”
Father Eamon’s nape hairs prickled as he heard the news “Where from?”
“We do not know. We do know that it will be here within days.”
“What are the council doing about this?”
“We are trying to find out where it is coming from and we will send guards to intercept and destroy it.”
“And if you don’t find it in time, then what?”
“Then you will have to deal with it when it arrives.”
“They kill Emma; try to kidnap her on her arrival in the twilight plane and now they send a Soul Gorger for her, yet you insist on abiding by protocol and treaties. Gabriel there comes a time when they must be set aside.”
Now it was Gabriel’s turn to hesitate. Father Eamon could sense his indecision hanging in the air.
“Then what would separate us from them, Eamon? Tell me that?” The voice was that of the woman who had interrupted Gabriel on Eamon’s last visit. “Where should we stop? Should we just descend to their level? Torture and terrorise people until they break and submit to our will? When is it enough? We watch this all the time in those that still draw breath, Eamon, and we must stay above that if we are to prevail, otherwise we may just as well join with the enemy and rule over a world of perpetual misery and subservience. Is that what you would have us do?
“They have broken treaty agreements before and we have prevailed. This time is more serious but we will have to overcome again as we have before.”
Father Eamon wanted to argue, he wanted to say it was exactly that moral high ground that the enemy relied upon, he wanted to argue for a more forthright campaign to force their hand, even if it meant a full-blown war but he knew that this was the way that things must be, for now at any rate.
“Eamon, there is something else that concerns you, yet you do not say what it is.” The woman’s voice softened and warmth returned to the chamber.
Father Eamon picked his words carefully, “Emma spent the night out in London on her own; she met someone who shielded her from a Gentle Man.
He also told her about the Robillard’s and Calabria’s and about the final part of the prophesy. He claimed his name was Rodolfo.”
It was as if Father Eamon had just walked in to a wall full of knives. He knew that he had touched a nerve and waited to see what the response would be.
It was not long in coming. A low, old voice spoke from behind him and as it did so the air seemed to thicken. “Did she describe him?”
“Yes she did, her description was remarkably similar to that of the Rodolfo who served as Isabella Calabria’s tutor.”
The air in the chamber was on the verge of exploding and it seemed like the walls would burst outwards at any second.
“Did she have any way of knowing about this man before she met him?”
“No, neither I nor Sister Ignacia have ever spoken of him to her and she has had no contact with anybody that could have told her of him. Of that I’m sure.”
“We had wondered what had happened to him. We had suspected for some time that he might have hidden himself in the twilight plane but we had no way of knowing for sure. If this man is who he says he is then it would certainly change things.” There was a pause and Father Eamon could hear pacing from where the voice had been, “Leave this to us, we shall look into this.
“This will be the last time you shall come to us. We shall send you a messenger when we know more of the assassin but take no chances with Emma; make sure she is protected at all times.”
The chamber doors opened and Father Eamon knew his time was up. Odysseia was waiting for him outside and escorted him to the cliff top. When they reached the steps leading down to the city, Father Eamon felt a hand lightly touch his shoulder. He turned to see her deep, soulful eyes probing him as the sun put her face into shadow.
“The Council meets on an almost daily basis, people come to and fro that have not been here in many, many years. Now I hear that for the first time in centuries someone has employed the services of a Soul Gorger. Tell me, Father Eamon, are we close to war? Should I start to prepare my angels?”
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