Eternal (24 page)

Eventual y we started climbing up again and the air seemed fresher. There was a big slope ahead of us, covered in trees and shrubs, and an old house behind the trees. We skirted around the house and its park, and then Seraph went gal oping madly up the slope, crashing through rough gorse bushes and cutting her legs badly.”

My heart seemed to have slowed right down as Velvet was tel ing her story. I seemed to be watching her and Helen and myself from a distance. I looked out of the window, where the day stil shone bright and calm. Soon it al would become clear. Soon I would be out on those hil s myself, seeking my destiny. Seek and ye shall find. I just needed one more piece of the jigsaw.

“What happened then?” asked Helen.

“Seraph clattered to a halt and threw me off. I was on the hil side just above the house, and I had crashed into some kind of monument.”

I knew what she was going to say next. I knew what she was about to see.

“It was an old stone tablet covered in moss, but I could see that there were letters carved in it—a name—”

“Sebastian Fairfax,” I said.

“How do you know?” she asked, startled.

“I know,” I said. “Go on.”

“The writing said something about ‘To the memory of Sebastian Fairfax, a beloved son,’ and as I was looking at it, I realized someone was standing behind me. I thought I was going to scream, but I couldn’t, and I had to turn around even though I didn’t want to. And then I saw him.”

“Who was it?” I asked, although I already knew.

“He was beautiful,” Velvet said simply. “I’ve never seen anyone like him. He was wearing kind of theatrical clothes, riding kit and a long black cloak. And he had these amazing eyes, blue like . . . I can’t describe them. He was perfect.”

“Did he speak to you?” asked Helen.

“Yes,” she said. “That’s the whole point. He said, ‘Tel your friends that Evelyn Johnson is trapped in the deep places of the earth, and neither fire nor water wil save her.

Tel them that she needs her sisters.’ And then—then—his face changed, as though he was crumbling away to dust.

And the next minute he just vanished.” She looked at us with a kind of triumph. “So you see, Evie won’t be coming back. You’l need me now. You have to let me in.”

“Do you think we’d give up on Evie so easily?” I replied furiously. “What kind of friends do you think we are?”

“Oh, I don’t know much about being friends,” Velvet replied. “I’ve got such a natural talent for making enemies.

So what’s it to be, Sarah? Am I in? Wil you let me into your little secrets or not? Friends, or enemies?”

I couldn’t trust myself to speak.

“No one wil ever take Evie’s place, Velvet,” Helen said in a quiet voice. “And it is you who must choose whether you are for us or against us. We can’t make that decision for you. Come on, Sarah, let’s go.”

She led me out of there, and we left Velvet staring at us with resentment burning in her eyes. I was shaking, and Helen took my hands in hers. “Sarah, you can’t care for everyone, or save the whole world. Velvet wil find her own path. Your task is to find Evie. What are you going to do?”

Her pale face was ful of sorrow, like a saint in an old painting. Who did Helen pity most at that moment—Velvet or Evie? Or was her pity real y for me?

The deep places of the earth. Sebastian, or his shadow, or a memory of his love, had tried to tel us where Evie was hidden. She was trapped in the earth—but where?

Earth for Sarah.

S for Sarah.

I remembered the words in my mother’s letter and the warning they contained. Stay away from the drums. Stay away from the drums in the deep places of the earth.

Listen to the drums. I was beginning to understand. The drums connected everything, the drums that I’d heard when I had seen Maria. I knew I had been right when I had told Cal that Maria held the key to the mystery. She must have known those deep, fearful places herself, where Evie was now lost. Stay away, Maria had once said, but I had no choice. It was my task to seek them out. I had to find Maria, and when I did, I knew that she would lead me straight to Evie and into the heart of the danger.

I got ready as though we were going on a picnic, fil ing an old backpack with warm sweaters, a map, my flashlight, and a piece of rope I found in the stables. Anything that might be useful. Hidden at the bottom of everything was the bronze crown. It was too precious to leave behind.

Underneath my riding clothes I was wearing the Talisman.

It was al total y surreal.

It was also ironic that Miss Scratton’s relaxation of the rules meant that our year was now al owed out for a short walk or ride after supper, as long as we signed out in the book in the entrance hal . So we were al owed to leave the school and face her and her Priestess as the day began to fade. Helen and I jogged on Bonny and Starlight down to the school gates. Two Wyldcliffe students going for a ride on a lovely spring evening, that was al .

Helen had fal en in with my plans without any argument or discussion. Although she didn’t usual y like riding, she was a natural horsewoman, far better than Evie would ever be—but I couldn’t think about Evie. It hurt too much. This was our last chance to find her, and I couldn’t get it wrong.

Instead I rode next to Helen and tried to distract myself by admiring her straight posture and delicate profile. She looked as though she didn’t quite belong in this world, like a medieval knight riding into battle, doomed and proud and sad.

We rode through the vil age, and I remembered how we had first met Cal there. I remembered how he had been wary at first, and how my feeble attempts to use some Romany words had softened him. Then he had smiled and cal ed me “Gypsy girl,” and I had felt that I belonged. I ached to see him again, with his rough brown hair blown by the wind and his watchful eyes older than his years. I longed for his rare smile that was just for me. I knew now that I had wanted him from that very first moment. Wel , I had messed that up. If only—but it was best not to think about what might have been. I wouldn’t get another chance.

We paused for a while by the scrubby patch of land where the Gypsy camp had been. This was the moment to turn back and return to school in time for evening prayers.

But instead, we went on, fol owing the long winding path that led to the moors. The path took us steadily higher. It began to feel cold. Here on the high ground the spring came late, but it was stil so beautiful. I hadn’t realized before just how much this place was part of me—the wide sweep of moorland, the jagged outcrops of rocks, the swoop and cry of the birds. It was my own land, it was in my heart. Eventual y the black stones on the top of the Ridge came into sight. We reached them and dismounted.

“Ready?” Helen asked.

I nodded. “I’m ready.”

We stood in the center of the ring of stones and faced the late sun. Pink and gold clouds swel ed over the far horizon. The birds fel silent. We could hear nothing but the breath and sigh of the wind. I held the Talisman up to the sun, and it burned with reflected light.

“Maria,” I said. “You showed yourself to me in this sacred Circle. Tel me now where to find the deep places of the earth. Tel me how to find our sister Evie. Holy powers, show us the truth.”

The sun was blotted out. It was night, deep midnight, and the stars trembled above us. At the far side of the Circle, next to the tal est standing stone, we saw a young girl and a woman dressed in black. Their faces were veiled, but they were beckoning us toward them. The girl pointed to the ground; then they vanished and so did the stars. The radiant glow of the bright evening flicked back on again like an electric light.

“There’s something over there that they want us to see,”

I said eagerly. “Come on!” We ran to search the ground, but there was nothing unusual. I dropped to my knees and pressed my hands against the turf, letting the earth below speak to me. I closed my eyes, concentrating intently and asking for guidance. I heard a girl laughing. I saw her riding a plump hil pony. “Come on, Cracker! You can’t catch me, Zak!” I saw her slumped against the stone, the circlet on her head, the blood on her cheek. Maria was cal ing to me.

“Dig!” I panted. “We have to dig.” I tore at the earth with my bare hands, then pressed my fingers into the wet soil.

“Mother Earth, show us your secrets,” I begged. “Reveal your treasures.” The earth crumbled loosely under my hands until I could move it aside as easily as sand. Soon I had carved out a shal ow hole at the foot of the stone. I reached in and found a handful of tarnished coins. Next to them was a smal stained bundle, wrapped in waxed cloth.

My hands shook as I opened it. The bundle contained a few torn pages, covered with clear, round handwriting. “It’s from her! It’s from Maria!”

I smoothed the crumpled papers on my knee. Maria Melville’s Wyldcliffe Journal, it said at the top. I began to read, with Helen looking over my shoulder, as the day began to slip away into oblivion.

If one day you are reading this, whoever you are, I hope that you will have the courage to accept these mysteries. I hope that you will not have to enter the underground world. I hope that you believe me.

These things happened in the spring of 1919.

My name is Maria Adamina Melville, and every word is true, I swear.

We had reached the end of Maria’s journal. I smoothed the papers and folded them up again. Now I knew where to go and what to do. Maria’s story had given me the final piece of the puzzle; the location of that underground world where Evie was a prisoner. The caves at the White Tor—

that was where we would find the threshold between this world and the dark places of the earth. I loved and pitied Maria for her story, but most of al I was grateful.

“But what about these creatures—the Kinsfolk—are they stil living in the caves?” asked Helen. “Or is it just her now—my mother?”

“I don’t know.” I was reluctant to tel Helen that I had already caught glimpses of Maria’s tormentors in my dreams. Maria had said that Sebastian had bound them again in sleep, but hadn’t Velvet’s reckless game released al bindings? Whatever had once slumbered in the dust of the earth might be awake, and the thought made me feel faint. I didn’t doubt Helen’s courage, but maybe I doubted my own. The Priestess I already knew, and I thought I could face her again, but idea of those shrunken, wizened bodies fil ed me with disgust. I felt their hands reaching for me, as they had grasped Maria. I saw their hideous faces and felt their icy breath of death. I sensed them waiting to claim me.

I had been so desperate to discover the secrets that would lead me to Evie, so intent on saving her, and now that I seemed to have what I needed, I wasn’t sure that I could do this. I looked across the val ey to the opposite ridge where the White Tor rose against the sky. I knew, in my deepest self, that if I went on this journey to the underground kingdom I would return changed. Or perhaps I would not return at al . I went over to where Starlight was waiting patiently and leaned my head against him and prayed for strength to do this thing.

I was not like Evie. I didn’t belong in some great romance. I was just Sarah, the best friend in the background, nothing special. Good old Sarah, always there to help everyone else. That’s what best friends were for. I had promised that I would do anything for my sisters

—the words had been easy to say, but how hard it was to actual y do it. Because I knew that in order to save Evie, some sacrifice would be asked of me.

Now I had to make the hardest decision of my life. To go on, or to go back.

“Sarah?” Helen cal ed softly. “Are we going? What are we waiting for?”

The sun was setting over the wild, wide land that I loved so much. I loved the wind on my face, and the high cal of the birds, and the deep life and history of the ancient hil s.

The rocks that lay like bones underneath the heather and gorse spoke to me of power and strength and eternity.

Was I real y strong enough to give up al of this and never see it again?

And Cal—if I didn’t return from the caves, he would never know how I felt. Never know that I was weak enough to be stupidly angry and then regret it. Weak enough to need him. Weak enough to fal in love.

But I had made a promise, and that promise couldn’t be broken.

The sun had almost gone. Night began to spread over the moors. Out there, in the land that I loved, Evie was lost.

That was the only thing that mattered.

I had made my choice. I would leave everything that was dear to me and enter the underground world, for her sake. I would not turn back. I would walk into the val ey that was cal ed Death.

“I’m ready,” I said to Helen. “Let’s go to the White Tor.”

“But you’re not going alone,” said a gruff voice. It was Cal, standing in the center of the circle, his hands clenched by his sides. Josh was next to him, holding the halters of their horses.

“Cal,” I said, amazed. “I thought you were leaving.”

“I changed my mind.”

“But how did you find me? How did you know I would be here?”

Helen walked over to me, her eyes shining. “I did it,” she said. “I told Josh that we needed them both.”

“You shouldn’t have said anything.” I felt embarrassed and confused. “I can manage on my own.”

“It’s not weakness to need someone, or to love them.

Josh loves Evie. You love Cal,” said Helen simply. “Love makes you stronger. What was the real secret of Agnes’s great power? Her love for Sebastian, that was al . And we wil need al our powers on this night. This is the beginning of our battles, not the end.”

I was scarlet in the face and I could hardly look at Cal.

“I’m so—so sorry about that stupid quarrel,” I stammered.

“It’s hard for me to say I’m sorry,” he replied, looking down and scuffing the ground with his foot. “But I am. You don’t know how sorry. I thought I had lost you, and it was kil ing me.”

“I hated quarreling too.”

Cal stepped closer to me and said in a low voice,

“Sarah, I have to tel you something. The real reason I came back to Wyldcliffe.”

“Why? Cal—what’s wrong?”