“I don’t know yet.” Sean took a step towards her, ready to shield her.
Taking picture after picture, Bryony was oblivious to the sudden tension and to the whispers passing between the others. She kept snapping, dotting the snap-snap-snap with little comments. “That’s beautiful – another one. Can you just move that torch a little bit, Harry?”
“Sarah!” Nicholas called.
“I’m ready,” she murmured, flexing her hands.
Instinctively, they had all gathered around Bryony in a circle, looking outwards. The wind was even stronger now, twirling and whirling around them. The sky? The soil? The water? Where will it come from? Sarah’s heart was pounding, her hands scalding hot already.
Sean jerked his head towards the house. “We need to go.”
“Bryony. We need to get inside, now.” Sarah’s voice sounded strong, controlled, in spite of her terror.
“What? But I haven’t finished.”
“Now, Bryony.” Sean walked over and grabbed her arm.
“Hey!” Bryony looked shocked.
“I saw someone on the wall, there,” Sarah explained quickly. “Somebody tried to burgle me last week – didn’t I tell you? We need to get inside.”
“I don’t understand …”
A sudden noise, a thud, a growl. Then nothing. The torchlight started moving frantically, illuminating sections of the pond, of the trees, of the ground around them.
“Everyone! See to Bryony!” Sean commanded.
In a second Bryony found herself surrounded – Sarah, the man she knew as Harry, Nicholas and Elodie crowding her, shielding her. Harry and Elodie each carried a torch in one hand, and, to her horror, what looked like a knife in the other.
A knife?
“What are you doing?” Bryony whispered. The camera in her hands was trembling.
“Be quiet!” Sean said.
The torches continued their dance.
“Nothing,” said Sarah.
“Then what was that noise?” Elodie retorted.
Sarah swung round to glare at her. But Elodie spoke before Sarah could snap at her. The French girl’s voice was small now, all anger gone. “Sarah.”
Elodie’s torch was pointing at the ground. In its beam, a furry shape, still and crumpled.
A black cat with a white paw, lying lifeless in a pool of blood.
17
Goodbye
Had I known the days were numbered
I would have said goodbye
“Shadow!”
Sarah threw herself on the ground. She lifted the cat’s bloodied little body, cradling her. It was soft and limp, every bone broken. She felt the heat of the Blackwater leave her hands and flow away. A lump of tears formed in her throat, but there was no time to cry.
“Oh my God,” whispered Bryony. “Shadow. What’s going—”
Before she could finish the sentence, she was thrown flat on her face with bone-shattering force. Some kind of beast had jumped over the protective circle around Bryony and landed straight on her.
“Bryony!” yelled Sarah.
The torches swung down to illuminate the terrible scene. Bryony was smothered by something between a tiger and a hyena, with an enormous muscular body and clawed paws. Already the creature’s fur had started turning yellow, the same yellow as Bryony’s coat.
Camouflage, thought Sean. “Nobody move!” he commanded, and began tracing deadly runes with his sgian-dubh. The Surari was hit at once, but barely shuddered. It growled in rage, leapt off Bryony and turned towards Sean. Finally he could see its muzzle – an impossibly wide mouth, full of row after row of yellow teeth, and black slits for eyes. Its fur was changing colour again, turning black when standing on dark ground.
Sarah grabbed Elodie’s torch and shone it against her own face. “Look at me. Look at me,” she called to the beast, calmly, coldly. Her eyes were greener than ever, shining in the bright light. “Look at me!” She repeated. Will it work? Will the Midnight gaze work this time? But she had no chance to find out. The beast turned its eyes away, as if it knew what Sarah was trying to do. It shook its head, growling again, and looked at the others, one by one, everyone but Sarah – Sean, Elodie … Bryony.
And it chose.
Bryony wasn’t moving, lying prone on the ground. The Surari raised a clawed paw, ready to slash the back of her neck – but Sean was faster, and he threw himself against the beast, rolling on the grass with it. The sgian-dubh fell from Sean’s hand, and the creature’s claws dug into his chest. As soon as it touched Sean’s jacket, its fur turned blue. It was ripping and slashing the fabric, and through it, to Sean’s skin.
Elodie jumped on the demon’s back with a scream, stabbing it repeatedly with her knife – but to no avail.
Sarah stood by with her arms raised and the torch at her feet, calling the Blackwater, praying for her hands to heat up again, having gone cold from the shock of Shadow’s death. Sean screamed helplessly under the beast’s claws, blood seeping through his jacket, and Sarah shuddered, losing concentration.
“Nicholas!” she called desperately. “Where are you!”
“There are two of them!” Nicholas called back from somewhere in the darkness.
Sarah grabbed the torch and pointed it towards Nicholas’s voice. He was standing in front of another demon-tiger, camouflaged black against the dark backdrop of the bushes. She was horrified to see that Nicholas’s face was red with blood. Whose blood? The beast’s, or Nicholas’s?
Sarah’s face changed all of a sudden, setting in a hard, furious expression. She let the torch fall and closed her eyes, then raised her hands to her chest and lowered her head.
Concentrate, concentrate.
Shadow. Shadow is gone.
Fury rose within her, and it happened – the Blackwater flew into her hands, at last. They burned, ready to strike. Sarah had to choose quickly – Nicholas was bloodied but still standing, while Sean was about to get his head bitten off. She threw herself on the Surari that had Sean in its grasp and dug her hands into its fur with a growl that nearly matched the beast’s. Sarah felt the demon tremble under her touch – it started shuddering violently in an attempt to shake her off, but Sarah’s hands were holding on to its black, hard fur, and she wouldn’t let go. The Surari growled in pain and brought its bloody paws over its head, freeing Sean from its grasp. Blackwater had started to sprout from the beast’s ears and nostrils. Sarah kept digging her hands into the demon, mercilessly, until she felt its skin moistening. At last it was beginning to weep and melt away.
Released, Sean lifted himself up from where he’d fallen, supporting himself with one bleeding hand, the other feeling around the ground for his sgian-dubh. By now, the Surari was contorting in agony, black blood and the black liquid from its weeping skin mixing and soaking the ground.
It seemed to take an eternity, but eventually, with one last convulsion, one last growl, the Surari dissolved in a foul-smelling gush under Sarah’s deadly touch. She rolled away, soaked and spent.
But she had no time to rest. She turned towards Nicholas at once. The second Surari’s tail was twitching in a menacing rhythm. It hadn’t attacked yet. Why? What is it waiting for?
“Sean!” Sarah implored as she staggered to her feet. Sean heard her call and followed her gaze. He saw Nicholas and the beast face to face and raised his sgian-dubh again, his face a mask of anger.
Nicholas turned to him, wide-eyed. He’s barely standing, and he wants to come to my rescue?
“Hey! Beast!” shouted Sean.
The Surari turned its monstrous head, its mouth open wide, its teeth yellow in the moonlight.
“Yes, you!”
Once again, Sean began tracing his runes, his hands moving impossibly quickly, sweat and blood pouring down his face. The demon roared and sat back, preparing to pounce – but this time Sean’s runes were too strong to resist. It stopped and tried to snarl, a snarl that turned into a yelp. Black blood started pouring from its throat, the flow becoming greater
and greater the longer Sean’s hands kept weaving his deadly spell.
“Nicholas!” called Sarah. “Help him! Help Sean!”
Nicholas was standing, paralyzed. Then, as if waking himself from a trance, he raised his hands, commanding the blue flames from his fingers.
“Nicholas.” A dark, strong voice. Sean. “It’s … not … necessary.” Each word was accompanied by a stab of his sgian-dubh, each stab drawing more blood from the Surari’s throat. The demon staggered then fell. One last shiver, a deep, painful howl, and it was still.
Sean fell to his knees, holding his wounded chest, and Elodie was at his side at once.
“I’m OK. I’m OK. See to Bryony.” But Elodie wouldn’t leave his side.
Bryony was lying face down on the ground, very still. Beside her, Sarah placed two fingers against her friend’s neck. “She’s breathing. She’s alive. Thank God. Thank God.”
“Sarah,” Bryony mewed, shifting slightly, painfully, and Sarah gently helped her turn until she could cradle her friend’s head on her lap. A blue bruise was slowly appearing above Bryony’s left eye and she had a split lip. She was shaking from the shock.
“What …?”
“Shhhh. It’s OK. It was the burglar. He jumped on you,” Sarah began.
“It wasn’t a burglar. Sarah, I promise you, it wasn’t.” Bryony pushed herself up slowly until she was sitting. She turned from Sarah to Sean, and back. “That wasn’t a human being. It was like a … tiger. Or a panther.”
Sean laughed a hollow laugh. “A panther? In an Edinburgh garden?”
Sarah turned away.
Bryony shook her head. “I could have sworn …” She stopped suddenly at the sight of her friend gathering the cat’s lifeless body against her chest, kissing her fur softly, inhaling the scent she knew so well, tears finally flowing down her cheeks.
“Oh no, Sarah.” Bryony stood up and threw her arms around Sarah, Shadow’s little body between them. The others stood awkwardly.
After a few moments, Elodie took Sean’s arm. “Sean. Listen,” she said, and whispered something into his ear.
“Sean? Who’s Sean?” Bryony murmured to Sarah. But Sarah’s mind was too clouded with grief to make up an excuse.
A rustling of leaves, a sudden noise.
“Shhhh!” Sean lifted a finger towards Bryony. She gasped as she noticed the knife in Sean’s hand.
“Quiet!” Sean grabbed her arm, harder than he’d meant to. Bryony whimpered softly.
More rustling.
So it wasn’t over. Sarah glanced at her friend, wondering how much she had seen. Elodie stood alert, her lips blue. Everyone was poised, ready to fight.
A gust of wind, a low bark.
And then, a pair of shiny little eyes appeared among the leaves, followed by a red head with two pointy ears, and a magnificent tail. A fox, looking at the strange gathering in alarm before vanishing again into the undergrowth.
They all let out a deep breath, hunching in relief.
“It’s over,” whispered Sean, and offered his hand to Bryony.
She didn’t take it. “I don’t know what it was that attacked me, but it was not a man,” she repeated, looking around her with bewildered eyes.
18
The Worst Kind of Fear
The day we bargained our lives
For a lie
That was
The day of the choice
Sean
Had Bryony been killed, I don’t know what would have happened to Sarah’s state of mind. It’s bad enough that Shadow ended up mangled like that. Poor little Shadow, she didn’t stand a chance.
If I were a cynical man, I’d say it’s good that this strike took place. It’s good that Sarah saw once more how the danger is not over, and how Nicholas is not enough to protect her. She needs us as well. She needs me.
I’m as sore as hell. Elodie has washed and dressed my wounds – the damn thing clawed at my chest and my arms. I bet these scars will stay – but hey, what’s another scar?
We’re all in shock, crowded around the kitchen table, sipping hot tea. Bryony is holding a wet towel to her lip, and she’s as white as a sheet.
“We need to call the police,” she keeps telling us.
“We can’t do that. Bryony, please,” Sarah begs her. She’s sitting holding Nicholas’s hand, and her eyes are red raw.
“We have to! There was a … tiger thing in your garden! Whatever it was! And it’s still out there!”
“It was a burglar, Bryony,” I repeat, hoping that she will eventually believe me. Thank goodness she was unconscious until we were finished with the bloody things.
Bryony sighs in frustration and studies my face. “What’s going on here?” She looks at all of us, one by one. “Why do you carry a knife, Harry? Isn’t it illegal to carry knives? And what did this …‘burglar’ use to hurt you like that?” She points at my chest. “Because those look like claw marks to me. And why on earth is everybody calling you Sean?” Her voice is rising with the beginnings of hysteria.
“Bryony, please.” Sarah is in no mood to explain.
“No! Sarah, I know what I saw!”
“But you didn’t see anything, did you? You were out of it.” I dismiss her.
“Look at the bruising on my head! I want an explanation!”
“You can have no explanation!” My tone silences everyone, leaving no room for discussion. This is not the time to be delicate. “Do you want Sarah’s life to be in even more danger?”
Bryony shakes her head feebly, confusion on her pale face.
“Sean.” Sarah puts a protective hand on Bryony’s arm.
“Do you want Sarah to get killed, like Shadow?” My voice is steely.
Bryony shakes her head again, a frightened look in her eyes. She’s afraid. Afraid of me.
“Then don’t speak about this to anyone. Do you hear me?”
Bryony nods.
“Do you hear me?”
“Yes!”
“This,” I point to her bloodied lip, “happened when you fell while taking pictures. OK?”
“OK.” She looks to Sarah, and their eyes meet for a moment.
“Please trust me,” Sarah whispers.
“I trust you.”
I know what she’s thinking: I trust you, but not him.
“Good. I’m taking you home,” I say, softer this time.
Bryony stands, so keen to leave that she doesn’t even mind that I’ll be the one taking her. But she still has a question. “Who are you? Who is Sean?”
I haven’t the strength to lie. “I am Sean. My name is Sean Hannay. Sarah will explain later.” Sarah nods wearily. “But not tonight. Let’s go.”
On my return I find Sarah, Elodie and Nicholas back in the garden, well away from the area of the attack, gathered around a little body wrapped in a blanket. Elodie is standing guard, her lips blue already, in case of another ambush.
“I wanted to wait for you. To bury her,” says Sarah in a broken voice, without looking up.
And here we are, under a moon that’s as beautiful as it’s merciless, putting little Shadow to rest at the foot of the thyme bush where Sarah found her mother’s diary.
“If only I’d dreamt of this,” Sarah whispers. “If only I’d known, I could have prevented it.”
Yes, why did she not dream of this? Is she not dreaming anymore?
“Just be thankful it’s a cat, and not one of us,” Elodie says sharply – cruelly, even. Not like her.
It feels unreal. Only a few weeks ago Sarah and I were here in each other’s arms, the night she’d unearthed Anne’s diary. It seems a lifetime ago. It was another full moon, and we were so close, the two of us in a dangerous, chaotic world. But tonight, under this moon, it’s another man that Sarah turns to. When the last fistful of earth falls on the grave, it’s Nicholas’s arms that comfort her.
Still, at least she waited for me to come back before burying Shadow, and as we walk back into the house, I catch of glimpse of her lookin
g at me in a way that warms my heart for a second. It’s as if she’s making sure I’m still there.
I’m here, Sarah, I tell her in my heart.
19
The Boy Who Disappeared
Wherever she goes
She’ll find shadows and withered flowers
Nicholas was stroking Sarah’s hair slowly, rhythmically. She was soft and weak in his arms, the way he liked it – more proof that picking her friends off one by one, like petals off a flower, was the sensible thing to do.
Sure, it hadn’t worked out the way it was supposed to. It was Bryony who should have been lying dead that night, her throat slit open and every bone in her body smashed.
Nicholas wouldn’t forget that night for a long time. Nothing had turned out quite as he’d anticipated. It would have been so easy for Sean to wait just a split second before intervening – more than enough time for the Surari to finish Nicholas off. It wouldn’t have happened, of course – but Sean didn’t know that. As far as he knew, the Surari was going to kill Nicholas, so he intervened, even though he was barely standing. Quite the hero.
Sean was in love with Sarah, and he was desperately jealous; Nicholas knew that well. So why did Sean not just stand by and let Nicholas fight alone? Die alone? The whole thing was surreal. Sarah had been so powerful, so strong – not the way he needed her to be if her destiny was to remain in his hands. Still, it had been amazing to see. Her face when the tiger-demon pounced on Bryony, and again when the girls were holding hands, once it was all over. The intensity of Sarah’s feelings for Bryony amazed him.
Friendship. It wasn’t something Nicholas had ever experienced. There had never been any need for friendship in his life, a life among Elementals and Surari. With a pang, Nicholas wondered if it could have been different for him. Had he grown up around people as she had, would he be able to feel the way Sarah felt? The way Sarah and Bryony seemed to feel about each other?
Tide (The Sarah Midnight Trilogy) Page 11
