Eternal

by Gillian Shields

  Soon the passage widened out into a flat area, like a rough-hewn room, before coming to an abrupt stop. There was nowhere to go except back along the passage we had already come down. One of the men, the leader who had spoken before, said in a hoarse voice, “Our Brother is not here. We must go farther to where the evil spirits dwell. Who can show us the way?”

  There was some hurried, muffled speech in the crowd, then one voice called out, “The Conjurer must show us. Fairfax. He is a magician with power over the spirits. Let him show us.”

  “Fairfax! Fairfax!” The men murmured their approval.

  I watched as Fairfax slowly pushed his way forward to the leader. He said, “I have some poor tricks, Josef, that’s all, enough to earn a penny in the marketplace. If you wish, I will put them at your service for the sake of your Brother. But no one here must ever speak of this deed. Do you swear it?” His blue eyes glittered oddly in the torchlight, and his handsome face looked hard and threatening. For the first time, I thought that perhaps he might be capable of doing evil. “Do you swear?” he repeated.

  Josef spoke first. “We swear.” He drew a dagger from his belt and lightly scored the palm of his hand until he drew blood. Spitting on his hand, he then offered it to Fairfax. “We swear in blood.”

  Fairfax grasped Josef’s hand firmly. “So be it.”

  Now I began to be afraid, not of the caves, but of this blue-eyed stranger and the powers he was going to call upon.

  Fairfax strode up to the blank wall of rock that barred our way and laid his head against it, as though he was listening for something. Then he began to search the surface of the wall with his fingertips, feeling closely for any cracks or crannies. I remembered how he had broken the piece of mirror and miraculously made it whole again. He began to speak rapidly in a strange language that sounded like curses. He closed his eyes, and sweat stood out on his brow. He ground his teeth and cried out loud, “As I will it, so shall it be!” The next moment the cave wall fell, like a sheet of water. Everyone stumbled backward, amazed, coughing and gasping in the dust. A way through had opened up, a low tunnel streaked with red and silver in the layers of stone. The taste of fear was in the air, whether of the new path that lay before us or of Fairfax’s diabolical powers, I couldn’t be sure.

  “We go onward,” Josef growled. “Anyone who turns back now is an outcast.”

  One by one we passed under the shattered archway and entered the newly opened tunnel. I don’t know how long we walked down it. Everything began to seem like a dream that I could not wake from, but at last the walls around us opened out and curved away. We had reached an underground cavern. By the light of the torches I saw that it was full of twisting pillars of crystal and rock, like columns in a temple. A few feet away a black lake spread out into the shadows. The company stopped and waited. My heart began to race. Something was going to happen.

  There was a presence in the cavern, something that didn’t belong in the world above. I had laughed at old Rebekah’s tales of evil spirits, but now I wasn’t so sure. Anything seemed possible in that deep place.

  “We have come for our Brother. Release him.” Josef’s voice rang out in the cave and echoed many times. “Release him, release him, release him. . . .”

  There was no answer. Then a rumbling, groaning sound began to fill the cavern. Grim shapes, like lumps of half-finished clay, began to move in the flickering torchlight. I did not know their name then, but I do now. It was the Kinsfolk, the creatures of the earth, and they had been woken from their long sleep. A sound of fierce drumming filled my mind like madness—

  I can’t! I can’t describe what happened next! It comes back in my dreams, again and again, but I want to forget it. I wish I could tear it out of my memory like Fairfax tore me from the grasp of those monsters and got me out of there.

  Afterward, as I lay bleeding on the Ridge under the shadow of the stones, I heard their screams and fevered drumming as they discovered that they had been cheated. And I know that the Kinsfolk will never rest until they find me again, or until some other unfortunate girl is forced to take my place as their dark and cursed queen.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The sounds of screams and drumbeats died away, and the figures of the girl and the men that I had seen faded into the air.

  I was lying in the center of the stone circle, alone on the hilltop. The sun was beginning to set, and the twilight was heavy and blue. I stood up and pushed my hair out of my eyes and realized that I was cold, as though I had lain on the damp ground for hours. It was time to get back. But what had I seen? Had it really been Maria at the time of her accident on top of Blackdown Ridge?

  A sudden noise startled me—Starlight stamping his hoof and neighing. I went over and caught hold of his bridle and murmured soothingly to him. The next moment I saw that I was no longer alone. Another rider was climbing up to the Ridge. I stood at the edge of the stone circle and watched him approach. The newcomer was a teenage boy who sat astride his heavy, powerful horse as though riding was as natural as walking. He wore rough jeans and an open shirt, and his untidy dark hair was ruffled by the evening breeze.

  He was coming closer.

  I dug my fingers into my pony’s mane for warmth and steadiness and waited until the boy came to a halt only a few feet away. I looked up at the familiar face and tried to speak, but my mouth was dry and my courage failed me. He dismounted in one quick movement, then stopped and stared at me questioningly. For a moment we simply stood there, taking each other in. A lonely bird high above the Ridge called out a few achingly sweet notes.

  “Sarah.”

  “Cal.”

  He stepped closer, but I moved back, confused. “Cal—what are you doing here—I thought you’d gone—I—I thought I’d never see you again—”

  “Didn’t you trust me?” he asked, frowning. “I told you I would come back.”

  “You said you were going to write to me.” I didn’t mean it to sound like an accusation, but I couldn’t help it. I thought Cal would react with angry pride to the sting of my words, but he shrugged his broad shoulders and spoke quietly.

  “I’m not much good at writing things down. Not much good with words at all. I did write, though. There was something I wanted to ask you.”

  “But I never got a letter.”

  “I know. I never sent it. I didn’t want any of the teachers at your posh school getting hold of it and sneering over my ignorance.” For a moment a sullen, defensive look flashed over his face.

  “Cal, no one would—”

  “Oh yes, they would. We belong in different worlds.”

  I felt sick with disappointment. Why had he come if he only wanted to quarrel? I couldn’t help being who I was. I would have swapped all my family’s money for Cal’s freedom.

  “Do we?” I said bitterly. “So why did you come back?”

  Cal pulled something out of his pocket. He looked at it for a moment, then handed it to me. “To give you the letter myself,” he said.

  I took the crumpled paper and opened it. The writing had been crossed out as though he had tried many times to find the words for what he wanted to say. I held the letter with unsteady hands and tried to read as quickly as I could.

  Sarah—

  Something has happened to me. I never minded moving on before. I am used to being on the road. But now my mind is looking back, not forward. I keep thinking about you and the strange events out on the moors when I rode with Sebastian and the Brothers.

  More than anything I keep thinking about you. What are you doing, Gypsy girl? Are you safe? Are you happy?

  There is something else I want to ask you. I should have done it before my family left Wyldcliffe.

  One day, I will ask you.

  Cal

  My heart was beating so fast that it hurt. “What—what did you want to ask me?”

  Cal let go of his horse’s reins and came closer. I felt my face burn as he looked at me as though I were the only person on the earth who mattered. �
��I wanted to ask—” Cal’s voice was husky and tight. “I wanted to ask if you would mind me doing this.”

  He bent over me, and his lips brushed mine questioningly. Something seemed to explode in my head, as though my whole life had fallen into place and I knew the meaning of everything, I knew the person that I was really meant to be. I kissed him back, and we belonged, like two wild creatures finding shelter in each other.

  “Oh, Sarah,” he said at last. “You don’t know how much I wanted this.”

  “But you never said anything—I didn’t know—I thought I would never see you again. I thought I had to forget you.”

  “Helen said that maybe you and Josh—I know he cares for Evie, but I thought you still . . .”

  “No! That was silliness, childish—it was over long ago, really.” I looked into Cal’s anxious face and murmured, “None of that was real. It was just a dream. But I’ve stopped dreaming now.”

  He smiled at me joyfully, his fierceness and pride softened by a glow of relief. We kissed again, and every kiss burned my soul clean. I was healed of all the muddled feelings that had plagued me, as Cal held me tight.

  “I’ve dreamed of nothing but you. I couldn’t forget you, Sarah. I kept telling myself that it was impossible, with you at school and me having to be with my family, but I couldn’t forget. I know we’re so different—I’ve no money—”

  “That doesn’t matter,” I protested. “I don’t have any money either. My parents are rich, not me. We’re young. None of that is important. Only this is important.” I sighed and leaned my head on his shoulder. “I want this to go on forever.”

  “It will, if you want it. I won’t change,” Cal whispered. “I’m so glad I found you.”

  “And I’m so glad you came back. Oh, thank God you did!” I burst into tears.

  “Hey, don’t cry,” he said in concern. “You mustn’t cry. I just want you to be happy.”

  To be happy. That was what Sebastian had said to Evie. Be happy. It was what we were all chasing. Helen was looking for a family, Evie looking for consolation in her grief, and I . . .

  I realized that all my life I had wanted to belong somewhere that I would find for myself, away from my parents and the protective, slightly deadening blanket of their money and position. And out here on the eternal hills, surrounded by nothing but the earth and stones and the vast splendor of the sunset, far away from the school and its snobbery and its records of failure and success, here with Cal—strong and young and hard—I had found what I had been looking for. We were so different and yet we understood each other. “I’m crying b-because I’m so happy,” I gulped. “Does that sound stupid?”

  “Not stupid at all.” He smudged my tears away, then drew me even closer to him, and it was so sweet and good that I wanted to stay out there all night under the bright stars and never go back to school.

  “Let’s stay here,” I whispered. “This can be our place, where no one can find us.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” Cal reluctantly let me go. “We mustn’t. We can’t stay here any longer. It’s time to go back; it’s getting late and you’ll be in trouble with the school.”

  “I don’t care.”

  He laughed. “But I do. I’m not having them say you’re going off the rails associating with riffraff like me. Besides, what about those women who were after you last term—the coven? And Helen’s mother? Is she still dangerous? You shouldn’t really be on your own.”

  “I’m not on my own,” I replied seriously. “I’m with you.”

  Cal quickly became serious too. “And I’m with you now, Sarah, if you really want me. Whatever happens, we’ll be together.”

  Together. I would never be alone again. Now I could face anything.

  Chapter Eighteen

  We rode back down to the valley side by side, our horses steadily pacing across the rough ground. I told Cal about everything that had happened—the sign on Helen’s arm, and the strange message on the door of Agnes’s study: Listen to the drums.

  “And there was the sound of drums in my dreams,” I said, “but I don’t know what it means, or what they are trying to tell me. I don’t even know who is doing the drumming. But then I had this feeling that it was important to find out more about my great-grandmother Maria—do you remember I showed you her picture? It said in the school records that she’d had some kind of accident up here on Blackdown Ridge, so I rode up here and I used the Talisman—”

  “You’ve got the Talisman?” asked Cal in surprise. “But doesn’t it belong to Evie?”

  I sighed. “Yes, but she doesn’t want to have anything to do with the Mystic Way anymore. I think it was partly my fault. I haven’t helped her like I should have. I’m glad at least that Josh is looking out for her.” I explained what Josh had discovered about his connection through Martha to Agnes’s healing powers.

  “If anyone can help Evie, it’s Josh,” Cal replied. “He walks a straight path, under the sun. It will be hard for him, though. Evie is still full of grief for Sebastian. But she won’t forget her sisters.”

  “Do you really know that?” I asked hopefully.

  “It’s what I feel, in here,” Cal said, touching his chest. “My mother has the Sight. That is a gift for women. I don’t claim to know anything, but I can’t believe that Evie will abandon the Talisman. She loves you and Helen—and Agnes. She won’t throw that away.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “But what about Maria? What happened to her up on the Ridge?”

  “Some kind of accident, I guess.” I shrugged. “I thought I saw her before you arrived. A young girl in the stone circle, with blood on her face. She was in pain and these men—oh, I’ve realized something! They were like the ghost men who rode with you and Sebastian—the Brothers! They were trying to protect her, and then I heard these awful sounds of screaming and shouting and drums beating—and then—” I glanced at him shyly. “Then you were there.”

  “Do you think what you saw was anything to do with the coven?”

  “I don’t know.” I explained what Miss Scratton had done to help to protect us against the remnants of Mrs. Hartle’s power.

  “So you’re safe,” Cal said, looking relieved.

  “It seems that way. But I am still worried about Helen—and that weird sign on her skin.”

  “The old folk would say it was a sign of the evil eye,” Cal said abruptly. “Do you believe that?”

  “The Book said something like that. But Evie said it could be psychosomatic, a manifestation of Helen’s subconscious. I don’t really know what Helen thinks. She’s even more closed up and secretive than ever.”

  “Well, whatever it is, you won’t need to ride out alone now.”

  “Why not?” My heart jumped painfully, daring to hope.

  “Because I’m going to stay around Wyldcliffe for a bit. My uncle had to come back here to see about a piece of business, a horse he was buying. That gave me a good excuse to come with him and ride this way again. But I told my mother the truth. I said I needed to see you again, and if you wanted me to I would stay here in Wyldcliffe as long as I could.”

  “Oh, Cal—but doesn’t she need you?”

  “My uncles will take care of her and my sister. I said I would find some work and send them money if I could. My mother is fine about it. I told you, she sees most things. She knows how I feel about you.” He laughed. “She said I’ve been like a sick cat the past few weeks and she was glad to see me go. So she gave me her blessing, and said a young man has to follow the wind, whatever direction it blows.” He paused and looked thoughtful. “She gave me a message for you too.”

  “What was it? What did she say?”

  “She said, ‘A promise is forever, and is only broken with a curse.’”

  I fell silent, wondering what she had meant. The words cast a shadow on my happiness.

  “Don’t look so sad. She sent you a gift too.” We had reached the school gates, where we halted our horses and dismounted. Cal felt in
side his shirt pocket and took out a little packet wrapped in torn paper. He handed it to me, and I opened it quickly. Inside was a piece of red silk ribbon, intricately embroidered with flowers and ears of corn.

  “It’s from her wedding outfit,” Cal said in a low voice, tying it clumsily in my hair. Then he gazed at me in wonder. “How is it you don’t know that you’re beautiful?”

  He drew me to him for one last kiss. I knew that I would be in terrible trouble for being out so late, way past supper time, but just then I didn’t care. At last, though, I made myself say good-bye.

  “I’d better not come into the school,” Cal said. “The teachers won’t like it.”

  “Miss Scratton wouldn’t mind, I’m sure.”

  Cal looked at me sternly, clear-sighted again. “Miss Scratton won’t be here for long. You can’t rely on her. You have to look out for yourself. And for your friends. They are lost in mist. You have to be the one to see the way.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “I’ll meet you here tomorrow evening as soon as you can get away.”

  “But where will you stay tonight?” I asked.

  “There’s an old shepherd’s hut up on the moor. I’ve got a blanket and some food. I can stay there and make a fire in the stove. The place is empty now that lambing is over, and at least it will be shelter. Then tomorrow I’ll look for work, laboring, odd jobs, anything. Anything that will keep me here, next to you. Sarah, I—”

  “Yes?”

  He seemed to change his mind about what he was going to say, and just smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” The next moment he rode away and melted into the hills. I scrambled onto Starlight’s back and jogged down the drive, amazed by this unexpected gift of joy. But as I reached the deserted stable yard, I heard the muffled sounds of crying.