The Sisterhood

by A. J. Grainger

  Can’t risk waiting. Lil’s insides twisted. Mella. God, Mella.

  Lil, Seven, and Sabrina arrived at the front of the house just in time to see the first of the firefighters going in, masks on their faces and oxygen on their backs. They battered down the front door. Lil was astounded by their bravery. The fire was still raging. This part of the house was relatively untouched as of yet but the fire rose in gusts against the darkening summer sky.

  The wait for them to emerge was agonizing. Seconds became a minute became five. Oh my God, they’re all dead. Oh God. The thought sent a shock wave through Lil. She grasped Sabrina’s hand. Beneath the soot, her aunt’s face was pale as a ghost’s, her teeth clenched as though in pain. Seven was muttering under her breath. Lil knew she was talking to the Light. She was filthy too, hair and face covered in ash. Lil was sure she looked the same. Her hands and arms were black.

  Lil moved closer, putting her arm around Seven, who leaned into her, clearly welcoming the support.

  Then the first firefighter finally came out from the house, supporting someone in his arms. He carried her clear of the thickest part of the smoke and let her stand alone. She staggered as though her legs were too weak to hold her, but then stood tall.

  Seven gave a gasp and then a cry. “Sister Luster!”

  The woman turned. Her eyes lit on Seven and she smiled, arms open wide. Seven ran into them. They hugged for a long time. Lil turned away to watch another member of the Sisterhood brought out. Younger, and she was being carried by a firefighter, who laid her gently on the ground, clear of the smoke. The next woman came walking. Then another, and another. A few were walking, supported by firefighters, but a lot were carried. A couple were screaming. Lil wasn’t close enough to see their injuries, but she knew they must be bad. Her insides turned over at the thought of how monstrous some of their burns must be. Mella still hadn’t been brought out. Where was she? Lil felt sick. Not everyone would have survived that fire. Oh God. Please don’t let us be too late. Please please please please please.

  A woman came through the door next. She was tall, nearly as tall as Lil. She reminded Lil of a silver birch tree in autumn; red hair, like leaves, and her bright-white dress and pale skin glowed through the murky gloom. She seemed untouched by the fire, to the point that her dress didn’t even have ash on it.

  As she appeared, a hush fell on the group, and a chill crept up Lil’s spine as she realized who this was. The high priestess, Moon. Lil couldn’t stop staring at her. There was something mesmerizing about her.

  She was held between two huge firefighters, but she shrugged them both off as if they were flies. “My sisters!” she cried. Her voice was husky and smoke-laced but still melodious and sweet. Like honey, it spread all over you, and held you fast. Something about her manner made you want to do the right thing, to not disappoint her. “Today the Darkness came to our door and we let it in.”

  There were two police officers with her now. They were clearly trying to silence her, but even as they held her, she kept talking. “Will you let the Darkness take you? Will you succumb?”

  A spark of energy jumped from sister to sister as she spoke: a tenseness in their spines, almost a readiness to obey, no matter what.

  “My sisters, didn’t I shelter you when no one else would? Didn’t I bring you in from the cold and the Dark? Didn’t I show you the Light?”

  The less-injured sisters shuffled uncomfortably, looking at the grass, at their feet, anywhere but at her. A couple stood up and began to move toward her, eyes dazed, their movements jerky, as though something beyond their own will controlled them.

  “Come with me now. It’s not too late. We can still be saved.” Moon’s voice reverberated off the walls, off the trees, off the gravel, as loud as anything Lil had ever heard yet as quiet as a whisper right in her ear. It brought up the hairs on her neck. “Come with me into the Brightness!”

  Moon twisted, suddenly and sharply yanking herself free of the police officers—and before anyone could stop her, she ran back into the building. As she reached the doorway, where there had been no fire, there was a spark and a flash of white light. Then flames spiraled out from where she stood. They spun like a pinwheel in orange, and blue, and purple. For a second, with her arms outstretched and lit up from behind, she looked like an angel. Then the fire gushed upward—even at this distance Lil could feel its intensity—and Moon screamed, her body twisting with pain, and then as suddenly as they’d appeared, the flames died down and disappeared. The darkness from inside the house seemed to reach forward, and Moon was swallowed up in it.

  There was a long silence. Lil didn’t know how to process what she’d just seen. Where had the fire come from? How had it vanished again so quickly?

  A murmuring began among the sisters, and it grew louder. “The Darkness,” they whispered. “The Darkness got her.”

  Even Lil had to admit it looked like that, although of course that was impossible. The dark wasn’t a living thing. It was just the absence of light.

  The first ambulance arrived and two paramedics came forward with a stretcher. Lil could see them working in the doorway of the house, covering the body—Moon—with a sheet and then carrying her away. Lil turned. She didn’t want to see. She didn’t want to think about it . . .

  The firefighters who’d gone into the house were standing in a huddle talking to Stacey now.

  “What’s happening?” Lil asked Sabrina. “Why aren’t they going back in?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “They need to go back in!” Lil said, voice rising. “They haven’t got everyone.” They haven’t got Mella.

  “I know, cariad. I’m sure they’re just regrouping. Working out their next move.” Sabrina’s eyes were on the group of exhausted-looking men and women. Some of them were taking off their helmets, unhooking their oxygen tanks.

  Stacey walked toward Lil and Sabrina. “Detective Laverty,” she said, “can I have a word?”

  Behind her, more of the firefighters began taking their gear off.

  “What’s going on?” Lil asked. “Why aren’t they going back inside?”

  Stacey glanced at Sabrina and then shook her head gently.

  Sabrina ducked her head, tears squeezing out of her eyes. “My God,” she said.

  “No,” Lil said. “No! Mella’s in there.” The two women stared at her, her aunt tearful, Stacey compassionate.

  “Mella’s still in there!” Lil shouted.

  “Lil,” her aunt whispered, and Seven clutched at her.

  Lil stepped back sharply, throwing up her arms, shaking off both Seven’s hand and Sabrina’s words.

  “No,” Lil said. “No, no, no.”

  “It’s just too dangerous,” Stacey said. “The team . . .” She turned away, tears clouding her own eyes.

  Sabrina said something softly to her and tried to reach for Lil, but she backed away.

  “No,” Lil said again and again, until it was no longer a word but a wail that rose on the wind, a sound that was not a scream or a cry or a shriek, but a combination of the three. She could feel something breaking inside her, something small and precious that she hadn’t known existed until that moment, but she knew with absolute certainty that she could not live without it.

  Her aunt said her name again, but Lil couldn’t bear it. She turned and ran. She had no plan other than movement, escape, something to keep that terrible ripping inside her at bay, but she found herself at the back of the house again, staring into the mouth of the flames. Staring at the bars on the windows.

  She was numb, hollowed out. Empty.

  She stumbled about, watching the fire crews work. There were more of them now; another engine must have come while they were at the front. They set up a line of freestanding hoses, closer to the building, where it was hottest. Some sort of aerial platform was rigged up too, and water was pouring down onto the second floor of the building as well. But still the fire burned, as strongly as ever, stronger in some places, and Lil could see it w
as hopeless. The building was gone. Whoever was left inside . . . She couldn’t finish that thought.

  A team of firefighters had peeled off from the main group, taking some heavy-looking equipment around the side of the building. Seven was still with Luster, and Sabrina was with Stacey. Lil felt close to despair. It was all over. Mella was . . .

  Then she heard something. Someone was crying. Very small at first. It sounded like Mella. “Mella?” Lil said, moving closer to the house. “Mella?”

  “Mouse?”

  It was so faint, less than a whisper. Lil moved closer again, skirting around the building to avoid the firefighters. She said her sister’s name again. Nothing. Had she imagined it? Was it Mella or just Mella’s voice in her head?

  She took another step forward, so that she was right up close to the building now; the walls were black, and chunks of them had fallen away. “Can you hear me?” she said aloud. “Mella? Are you okay? Answer me, please. We’re coming for you. Just hold on.”

  There was a shout behind her.

  “Lilian!” Her aunt’s voice tore through the air.

  Lil turned to see her aunt gesticulating wildly above Lil’s head. She looked up in time to see the rotten carcass of a window frame plummeting toward her. It fell heavy and it fell fast, and Lil was too close.

  Lil threw her hands up to protect herself, stumbling backward at the same time, legs tripping over each other. She fell, head connecting with something solid. The words she’d been saying for the last four months, thirteen days, and so many, many hours rose up in her throat.

  “Mella. Find her. Find Mella.”

  And then there was nothing but darkness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Lil was trapped in the flooded river again, but this time she could not break the glass and escape. Instead of water filling the car, it was fire. Lil was close to drowning, but every time she thought her lungs would explode from lack of oxygen, the fire would fling her up to the surface again, to a tiny portion of the car not consumed by flames, and she would tug down a mouthful of scalding air. Then the flames would surge, and the whole dance would begin again. She wasn’t sure how long this went on for, but suddenly she was aware of something beyond the fear and the panic and the searing heat in her lungs. A voice, shouting. Then something that wasn’t boiling touched her. It was soft and it wrapped itself around her. It tugged her up toward the surface and held her there while she drew lungful after lungful of air.

  “You’re all right,” someone said. “You’re all right.”

  Lil woke with a sob. For a second she didn’t know where she was and then she came to full conciousness. She was on a blanket on the grass. Her head ached. Sabrina was there, brushing Lil’s hair off her face. “You’re all right,” she said again.

  Lil whimpered like a kitten.

  “Shh,” her aunt said. “I’m here. Shh. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Lil rolled into her aunt’s arms, allowing herself to be stroked and calmed.

  Sabrina held her and murmured softly. After a moment or two a woman in a green paramedic’s uniform came over. She asked Lil questions and shone a light in both her eyes. Lil felt dazed. “She’ll be all right,” said the paramedic. “Mild concussion. She was incredibly lucky.”

  Her aunt nodded and Lil lay against her again, warm and cozy in her arms, feeling like a little girl again, but there was something . . . niggling at her . . . something she had to do. It all came back to her at once—the burning building, her sister trapped.

  She snapped upright, out of Sabrina’s arms, causing a red-hot poker of pain in her skull. “Mella!” she cried.

  “It’s okay,” Sabrina said. “Lil, it’s okay. She’s okay.”

  “She is?” Relief, disbelief, worry tumbled through Lil, along with a million other emotions she couldn’t name; one rose to the top, shining like a bright penny. Happiness. “She’s okay,” Lil said. “She survived. That’s . . . it’s . . .”

  “Amazing. A miracle, I know.”

  Not a miracle: the Light. Lil didn’t know where the thought had come from, but it felt true. “She’s all right,” Lil said again. Then fear gripped her. “Really this time? Because I couldn’t, not again, like at the hospital.”

  “Really this time, I saw her.” Sabrina wiped a tear off Lil’s cheek. She hadn’t even realized she was crying.

  Lil was exhausted. Her whole body felt heavy; it was an effort to keep sitting. She wanted to sink to the floor, a boneless heap, and sleep for a century. Happiness flashed through her like a rainbow, colors radiating through her and healing that small, dark, broken place inside her. She couldn’t take it all in, to process all of this. That would come later. First: “Where is she? I want to see her.”

  Sabrina hesitated. “It was a miracle they found her when they did. It all happened so fast. I was coming to tell you when you were knocked out. They went back in, the firefighters. One last time, and headed even farther in. And they found her! But . . . there was a lot of smoke, and the fire was strong. They took her straight to hospital in the ambulance. They . . . they couldn’t wait.”

  “But you said she was okay!”

  “She is. She’s going to be.” She didn’t add, I hope. She didn’t need to. Lil’s throat burned with tears. “Your mum’s waiting for her at the hospital, sweet pea. She’ll text updates, but we’ll know more when we get there.”

  “I want to see her.”

  “I know you do, and you can as soon as—” Sabrina broke off as someone shouted her name. A police officer on the other side of the driveway. “Will you be all right for a bit?” Sabrina asked Lil. “I don’t like to leave you, but . . .”

  “It’s okay, go. But is everyone . . . ?” Lil hesitated. “Did everyone make it?”

  “Oh, Lil,” Sabrina said.

  “Who?”

  Sabrina sighed. “Two died. Moon, their high priestess. Their leader. You saw.” Sabrina closed her eyes briefly, and Lil knew that moment would haunt her aunt forever too. “And another woman. We haven’t been able to identify her yet. There was so much smoke and damage that the firefighters didn’t make it to her in time. Mella had hidden in some kind of anteroom, a large closet I guess. It saved her from the worst of the fire.” Sabrina passed a hand over her eyes. “A couple of the women are in a serious condition. They’re on their way to hospital now. We’re waiting for more ambulances for the others.”

  The police officer called again, and Sabrina waved to say she was coming. She stood up.

  “I’m sorry,” Lil said quickly, before her aunt left. “I shouldn’t have come here. It was stupid and irresponsible. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “It was both of those things.” Sabrina tried and failed to look stern. “But, Lil, if it weren’t for you, we’d never have come in time.”

  Lil looked up. “What do you mean?”

  “After she saw you in the parking lot, Gwen”—the vicar’s wife—“came to find me. She said you’d driven off in my car. She doubted that I’d given you permission to go driving in a flood,” Sabrina said wryly, “so thought something was amiss. I knew immediately where you’d gone. Officer Burnley and I headed up here right away in her car, hoping to catch you before you arrived. We saw the fire from about a mile away and called the fire brigade. They met us here.”

  “So . . . so,” Lil said falteringly, “we helped? We helped save Mella and the others.”

  “It was an incredibly reckless thing you did, Lil, but”—and she gave a small smile—“very, very brave, and yes, these women are alive because of you.”

  “Oh,” Lil said. “Oh.” It was too much. To go from despair at her stupidity to hero in such a short space of time. “I helped bring Mella back to us,” she said, and burst into tears; she didn’t know why she was crying, because it was all she’d wanted every second of every day for the last four months.

  Sabrina smiled. “You’re an incredible young woman, Lil, and I’m so proud of you. Also very angry. You stole my car!” She smile
d. “But I love you and I’m too worried about you to stay mad at the moment. We’ll talk more about this later, okay?” The police officer shouted again, gesturing wildly at one of the sisters. “Stay right here. Let me deal with this. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Lil nodded. “Wait. Kiran!” she said. “Where’s Kiran? He went for help. He—”

  “He’s fine. We ran into him on the driveway, literally almost. Officer Burnley drove him back to Old Porthpridd in her car. He’s all right. Rest now. We’ll talk more later, and I’ll get you to Mella as soon as I can.”

  Lil lay back on the blanket. Her sister was alive but seriously injured. She wanted to rush to the hospital immediately, to be with her, but she knew she had to be patient. And lying down wasn’t so bad right then. She was so tired. The muscles inside her muscles hurt.

  The sky was darker. Lil reckoned it must be about eight o’clock. The fire was just about out in the house, or what was left of it. No one would be living there for a while, if ever. The gravel driveway in front of it was crammed with people; a lot of them had oxygen masks and bandages.

  Where was Seven? Lil couldn’t believe she’d forgotten to ask Sabrina about her. Lil looked about. After a moment she stood up, wincing at the pain in her body, not just her head but everywhere: a general soreness. She began to walk slowly between the groups of people—sisters, paramedics, firefighters, and police, looking for Seven. Sabrina had told her to stay put, but Lil had disregarded her orders so much today she doubted one more time would make much difference. She would probably be grounded for the rest of her natural life anyway when her mum found out what had happened.

  At first Lil couldn’t find Seven, and then she spotted her on a clump of grass, a little farther off. She was with the woman she’d called Luster.

  Seven stood up as Lil approached. She hugged Lil tightly. “The Light bless you,” she said. “Are you all right? When the window fell . . .”