Destiny (Immortal)

by Gillian Shields

  “Wait, Helen, let me walk back with you.”

  “All right,” I said ungraciously. I couldn’t dance on the wind back to the school if this Lynton was going to stick around. I wished he had never bothered to speak to me in the first place. Life was easier that way.

  The rain still drove down as we set off in silence in the direction of the Abbey. Where do you live? Do you like St. Martin’s? How old are you? All the trite questions that came to my lips choked me. I couldn’t say stuff like that. For one moment—but that moment had passed and fallen to nothing, and I wasn’t going to fill the hole with breathless, idiotic chatter. It seemed a long walk home.

  When we finally drew near to the village, Lynton said, “I get the feeling you liked me better before I mentioned Dr. Franzen.”

  I kept on marching down the muddy lane and forced myself to say, “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s nothing to do with that. It’s nothing at all.”

  “So you do like me?”

  I ignored that last remark, but he caught up with me and took me by the arm, forcing me to stop too. He gently pulled me around to face him. “Helen,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry it still hurts.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Nothing.” He dropped his hand. His eyes weren’t laughing anymore. They looked so sad, and—not young. He looked different, as though he had known many sorrows. “It’s easy to guess that you’re unhappy,” he said. “I can see it in your face. Some people have faces like masks, which hide everything. But although you try to guard yourself from other people, your face is open to me, like a child’s. I’d like to…get to know you better, Helen.”

  His words made me feel raw and open, on the verge of tears. “Why? I’m—I’m no one special.”

  “Don’t ever say that.”

  “But I’m not.” I looked over to where the Abbey lay in the distance, and muttered, “At the school, the other girls laugh at me. They say I’m crazy. Maybe I am.”

  “People think that anything different is crazy. Anything they don’t understand. And you are different, Helen. But being different is a blessing sometimes. A sign.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “A sign of what?”

  “Oh, that we can’t all live neat, tidy lives. I don’t think you ever will.” Lynton looked straight at me, and his face seemed so bright and alive, like a flame in the night. “You’re my beautiful stranger. I want to create music for you, and make you sing, and laugh, and dance on the wind.”

  I couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Don’t—don’t mock me,” I managed to gasp.

  “I’m not, I swear…. I care about what happens to you.”

  “Why on earth should you?”

  “Because you don’t deserve to be unhappy. And if you ever feel worried—or frightened by anyone here—by Dr. Franzen—just let me know, won’t you?” He looked at me again, his eyes intensely blue and bright, and I nodded, confused by his words, but somehow comforted.

  “Good.” He smiled and relaxed and we set off walking again. All the rest of the way to the school he talked about his music and the weather and the landscape; anything and everything and nothing. His clear, precise voice went on like the soft, soothing murmur of a stream, but I didn’t really take in what he was saying until we reached the huge oak door of the Abbey.

  “Well, it was nice to bump into you, Helen. I hope you don’t catch cold.” Lynton shook the rain from his hair, then took my hand as though we had just been introduced at a cocktail party. He leaned forward and kissed my cheek so lightly that I barely felt the touch of his mouth. “I was looking for you, out on the moors,” he whispered. “And I found you. Remember that.”

  Lynton turned and walked away without another glance. I watched him go, then hurried away to the dorm, my cheeks blazing and my heart dancing. There was only one person I could tell. I rushed to confess everything to my Wanderer in the scribbled pages of my diary.

  Now do you see why my head is still on fire? Because Lynton called me beautiful. He said he cares about what happens to me. He was looking for me. And when his lips brushed against my cheek, I felt something totally new. I felt happy.

  Where does the song end?

  What is your truth,

  Beautiful stranger?

  I have indulged myself enough now. I must go and find the others and tell them that I haven’t found anything more about the Eye of Time. I didn’t even try to contact my mother. That’s what I should be thinking about, not a boy I barely know. Powers of the Mystic Way, protect me from myself, don’t let me be selfish, let me keep the promises I have made. But oh, Wanderer, please help me too! Help me to know that what I have told you wouldn’t make you laugh, or make you despise me.

  I don’t want you to think I have betrayed you. I don’t mean to be disloyal to your memory. But perhaps for once life is making me look forward, not back. Help me, my dear friend. Help me to be strong, to be unselfish—

  I can’t stop myself, though. My clothes are wet and cold and my fingers ache from scribbling this, but my mind, my heart—they are awake at last. Something inside me is pouring itself out like the song of a bird…happy…happy…happy….

  Sixteen

  THE WITNESS OF EVELYN JOHNSON

  I wasn’t very happy that our trip to Uppercliffe Farm hadn’t turned out quite as we planned. Velvet was the last person I wanted to see just then, but after she had marched uninvited into the old farmhouse, we couldn’t pretend that we hadn’t seen Helen vanish into the air, disappearing like the memory of a dream. We couldn’t fool ourselves that Velvet didn’t know that we were involved in something deep and strange. The shadows and mysteries that were weaving themselves around us attracted something in Velvet’s needy, searching heart….

  And now she had invaded our gathering at Uppercliffe, buzzing with triumph and demanding answers. “How does Helen do that? And can you teach me to do it? I want to know everything, and I’m not leaving until you start to let me in on your little secrets. Oh, hey, guys—” Velvet broke off and turned to smile at Josh and Cal with her usual look-at-me, seductive charm. “Good to see you again. So you’re still into this witchcraft stuff? Isn’t that strictly for girls?”

  Cal didn’t reply, but drew Sarah closer to him and stared back at Velvet impassively.

  “What’s the matter?” Velvet said, looking around, all innocence. “Have you all taken a vow of silence to keep poor little Velvet out?”

  “What do you want?” Josh asked.

  “Same as you, I guess. To have some fun around here, for a start.”

  “We’re not doing this for fun,” he replied brusquely. “And it’s not some hokum witchcraft, like dressing up on Halloween. The powers are real and they are dangerous. Helen and Evie and Sarah have risked their lives—”

  “And you think I wouldn’t?” Velvet’s expression changed to a sullen scowl. “You know nothing about me.”

  “Fine. Let’s keep it that way,” Josh replied. “Come on, Evie, let’s go and find Helen. Maybe she’ll be back at school by now.” He caught my hand in his, firm and strong and real, but even now, after everything Josh had done for me, I was still holding myself back…. I squeezed his hand quickly in reply, then let it go and walked over to the door.

  “Wait! Don’t go yet, I haven’t finished. It’s important!” I turned reluctantly to listen to what Velvet had to say. She lowered her eyes, suddenly humble. “Just give me a chance,” she begged. “I swear I want to help. I want to understand. Ask Helen—if she doesn’t want me, I’ll give up and stop pestering you. I promise.”

  I caught Sarah’s eye, and she nodded fractionally. That didn’t surprise me. Sarah was always ready to give everyone second or third or fourth chances, always ready to help the underdog. It’s just that Velvet wasn’t exactly an underdog in my eyes, more like a sleek she-wolf ready to bite the hand that stroked her.

  She had been watching us since the previous term, suspecting what we were doing, wanting to find out more. Velvet cla
imed that she wanted to be like us, and be part of our sacred Circle, but I didn’t trust Velvet Romaine, not for a single heartbeat. This girl had a history of trouble that clung to her like a heady perfume. She had been expelled from every expensive school that she’d been sent to by her famous parents, and there were so many stories: drinking, drugs, nasty accidents happening to the people around her—a long, unsavory list of crises that had been reported in every tacky newspaper and chewed over in a hundred “celebrity” blogs and chat rooms in cyberspace. Velvet’s experiences had made her hard, rather than sympathetic, and she was careless of other people’s feelings, treating anyone less self-confident than herself as a fool. I didn’t want to have anything to do with her. But at least I would try to be tolerant, and as forgiving as Sarah. If Velvet was begging for a second chance, who was I to say no?

  “Okay.” I shrugged. “Let’s see what Helen has to say.”

  It had begun to rain. We rode back to the school in single file, Velvet following us on her nervy black gelding, Jupiter. The horses’ tails swished, and their hooves sucked on the muddy ground. It wasn’t a pleasant ride, and I was worrying about where Helen could have gone, but eventually we reached Wyldcliffe. A dismal, late afternoon atmosphere clung to its creeper-clad walls and Gothic turrets. It was already beginning to get dark. Josh and Cal said they would take the horses to the stables while we went to find Helen.

  “Come and see me later if you can,” Josh said, lingering next to me for a moment as he took hold of my pony’s bridle. “I want—well, I just want to see you. If that’s okay.”

  “Of course I’ll come, if Dr. Franzen isn’t on the prowl.”

  “Is he still being the heavy Victorian head teacher?”

  “It’s getting worse.” I sighed. “Every day there’s some new rule or order. Wyldcliffe was bad enough before, but now—”

  “Are you coming, Evie? We’ll get soaked out here, and we’ve got to find Helen,” Sarah interrupted us.

  “Sorry. See you later, Josh.”

  The boys headed toward the stables and we slipped inside the school building, with Velvet determinedly at our heels. The imposing entrance hall was empty, and the only light came from the low red flames flickering in the massive stone fireplace. Hanging on the walls in the shadows was a small oil painting, which never failed to catch my attention. It was a portrait of Lady Agnes Templeton, just another relic of the past for the other Wyldcliffe students, but for me it was personal. I had seen those gray eyes and their look of love so many times before, and right now I needed her to guide me. I stopped in front of the portrait and whispered, “Help us, Agnes.” The Talisman was hidden under my clothes, nestling against my heart. “And let the Talisman help Laura,” I added quietly.

  “What are you saying? What’s this Lady Thingy got to do with anything?” Velvet demanded, as she noticed me looking at the painting. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

  “You’ll find out,” I replied shortly. “That is, if you’re really serious about helping. Come on.”

  We hurried past the image of Agnes and went straight up to the dorm that Helen and I shared with Celeste and Sophie. Celeste was lying on her bed and flicking impatiently through a magazine.

  “Have you seen Helen?” I asked.

  “Talking to me, Johnson?” Celeste looked me up and down as though I were some kind of domestic servant. “Don’t bother, okay?”

  “Um…I think…” Sophie was curled up in the window seat, and she glanced over anxiously, surprised to see Velvet with us. “Helen was here, writing in her diary or something; then she rushed out when we came in. She said something about going out…needing air…”

  Sarah and I turned and ran down the stairs, followed by Velvet. We passed a group of grumbling students. They were complaining about the latest irritating edict from Dr. Franzen. I wasn’t sure which one, there had been so many: Students are not allowed to change into casual clothes in the evening. Lights-out bells will now be half an hour earlier. Ancient Greek is now a compulsory course for all students. All students must now enroll in the after-class program of classical music tuition; all students must sing in a choir. All students must perform in the Memorial Concert….

  “It’s just not fair!” they complained in resentful whispers, but as I hurried past I wished that I only had Dr. Franzen and his pathetic rules to worry about. We ran out into the rain and onto the school grounds, calling for Helen.

  “Look!” Velvet cried.

  Someone was standing on the far side of the wet lawn, motionless next to the lake. It was Helen, reaching out to her inner visions, totally unaware of her surroundings, lost in her dreams. We hurried over to her as the rain lashed down on the lake’s dark surface. The ruins of Wyldcliffe’s ancient chapel rose in the background, eerie in the gloom and damp.

  “Helen, what are you doing out here in this rain?” I said. “You’ll make yourself ill. And where have you been?”

  Helen turned to us, and I stopped in my tracks. I had expected to see her looking haunted and sad, in one of her unhappy moods, but she looked radiant, as though she had been filled with joy like sweet, clear wine.

  “Helen—” I felt I should be pleased, but to tell the truth I was amazed, even slightly disturbed. What was happening? Did Helen know something that we didn’t? Had she found the answer to saving Laura? I wanted to ask her a hundred questions but was restrained by Velvet’s presence. “Helen, Velvet wants to talk to us. She—she saw you, at Uppercliffe….”

  Helen looked past me to where Velvet was hovering next to Sarah. A look of understanding passed over her face, and Helen took a deep breath. “So Velvet wants to follow the Mystic Way?”

  “That’s what we need to talk about,” I began. “We need to be sure that she…you know…belongs in all this.”

  “Were you so sure that you belonged at the beginning, Evie?” Helen gave one of her rare, musical laughs. “Did you even like me when we first met? Did I like Laura when she was alive?”

  “Haven’t we all moved on from those days?” I said quietly. “This is about whether it’s right for Velvet to join us now. Can we really be sisters, after all that happened last term? And what’s her element? How would she fit in?”

  Helen had been trying to push me and Sarah away since the beginning of term, so I was sure she wouldn’t want Velvet anywhere near her. But she surprised me with her reply.

  “We don’t know the answer to that. And it’s not up to us to decide. Maybe our fates are more unexpected than we imagine.”

  “I knew you’d understand, Helen,” Velvet said breathlessly. “You’ve got to trust me. I know I could help you. I could belong.”

  “But we don’t need you!” I cried, then regretted my words.

  Velvet’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m just asking for a chance.”

  “We can’t see who or what we might need one day, Evie,” Sarah said quietly. “I think Velvet should have the chance to know the truth. The truth doesn’t just belong to us. The Mystic Way isn’t an exclusive club or secret society. None of us started out special. We’ve all been helped to discover our powers. If Velvet has some part to play, we should help her to find it.”

  “I suppose so,” I agreed, ashamed of my outburst. “What do you say, Helen?”

  She hesitated. “Let Velvet find out,” she said at last. “Let her know the truth.”

  “Thank you, Helen,” Velvet exclaimed. “Thank you, thank you! I want to do the things that you can do. I promise—”

  “Don’t make any promises,” Helen said. “Just walk the path, wherever it leads.”

  She set off abruptly across the rain-sodden lawn and we followed, glancing at one another in surprise and hunching our shoulders against the dreary weather. A few moments later we reached a bank of dripping shrubs that grew thickly at the bottom of the grounds. I recognized the entrance to the old grotto. Soon we had vanished into its echoing spaces, cut off from the rain and from the rest of the world.

  The walls of the little
cave had originally been decorated with fanciful mosaics of nymphs and flowers and other exotic scenes, but now they were chipped and decayed, dripping with water and reeking with memories. I had been here with Sebastian. I had touched him, held him, and heard his voice…. This was a place full of ghosts. And yet there had been a time when I didn’t believe in such things. Sebastian, Sebastian, my heart cried. I swallowed hard and shivered in the cold, dank air.

  “We won’t be seen or overheard in here,” Helen said. Sarah reached up into a rough niche in the wall and found a stump of candle, left behind at our last visit. She lit it and the stones and shells of the curious mosaics glinted in the light, but Velvet’s eyes were still black and hungry. I was uncomfortable in her presence, but I trusted that Helen knew what she was doing.

  I would have trusted Helen with my life.

  Seventeen

  FROM THE DIARY OF HELEN BLACK

  MIDNIGHT, OCTOBER 9

  I hope you will trust me, Wanderer, that everything I am going to tell you now is the truth, as complete and total as an eclipse of the sun. This strange day is nearly over. The others have gone to bed. I couldn’t sleep. I have come to Agnes’s study to think and write and relive it all….

  After my encounter with Lynton, I met Sarah and Evie by the lake. Velvet was with them. She had a vivid aura around her like a smoldering fire, but Lynton had given me the courage to face her.

  I was looking for you…. I care about you…. My heart was still beating in time with his words. All would be well, and all manner of things would be well….

  I really believed it, at that moment. I really did.

  It was cold in the grotto. The underground stream trickled away into the darkness, as it had a hundred years ago. The stream, the rocks, the freezing air, and the yellow candle flame; water, earth, air, and fire were there to welcome us in that secret place. And there was one more element present—there was Velvet.