B00JX4CVBU EBOK (15 page)

‘She’s wearing a fell,’ said Chloe.

‘Did you do this?’ Celeste asked the woman, indicating the house and pit with a wave of her hand.

The woman’s eyes narrowed. ‘Of course we did, you naive little thing.’

‘Turner! Freeze her!’ said Celeste.

But before Turner could even raise his hand the woman disappeared into the ground. To Turner it looked as if a hole had opened beneath her feet and she had simply fallen into it.

‘Your Aunt,’ came a voice from behind them. 

The group twirled around to face the woman who had appeared over near the wall. Once again Turner raised his hand, but once again the woman fell into the earth. This time the girls and Turner didn’t wait, they turned around quickly to discover the woman back at her original spot. Turner raised his hand again.

‘Your Aunt is alive,’ said the woman. ‘Harm us in any way. In any way … and we will kill her.’

‘Wait Turner,’ said Celeste, placing her hand on Turner’s arm. Turner lowered his hand reluctantly. He didn’t like this situation at all, and had been relishing using his freezing power on this strange woman.

‘What do you want?’ asked Chloe.

The woman with the impossible hair smiled. ‘Ah … not, “Where is she?” Or, “bring her back now.” This one is not so naive it seems. What do we want?’ She spread her hands wide. ‘Power. Isn’t that what any of us wants, really?’

For a few heartbeats nobody spoke, and then Skye said, ‘Who
are
you?’

‘We, my dear, are the Cardiff Vordene.’

‘What?’ said Celeste. ‘There is no Vordene at Cardiff. All five women were lost almost a year ago in a Scather attack.’

The woman’s eyes smouldered yellow for a moment, making one or two of the girls to take a step back. ‘Yes, we were lost. And no one, no one, came to save us.’ The woman’s face was savage, her teeth bared, her fists clenched. ‘We fought the Scathers but they enveloped us. And then we fell. Fell down the Scathers’ gate into the Grimshade. The Scathers surrounding us became part of us. We don’t remember much, and slowly over days, or months, our minds returned, but we were trapped. We couldn’t move around the Grimshade as the Scathers still saw us as foreign. We had no way to return, until
she
…’ The woman pointed at Brooke. Brooke’s face went white and she shook her head. ‘She contacted us and left us a trail to follow, out of our cave, back up and out of the Grimshade.’

The girls turned to Brooke. ‘What’s she talking about, Brooke? Did you do something?’ asked Celeste.

Brooke still shook her head. She looked from girl to girl as if afraid they were going to attack her. ‘I … didn’t … I just wanted …’

‘What? What did you want, Brooke?’ asked Ember.

Brooke turned on Ember, her face fierce. ‘I wanted to frighten your bloody boyfriend, that’s all. Send a few Scathers after him. Scare him off. Away from us. So I sent a tendril into the Grimshade, but I hit something … not Scathers.’ Tears fell down her face, and she fell to her knees. ‘I didn’t know.’

‘What? How could …’

Ember was cut off by a laugh from the woman. ‘Pretty petty girls. Thanks to the Water One we can …’

‘Wait. You keep saying
we
. There’s only one of you,’ said Chloe.

The woman laughed again. ‘Oh, you want to see us do you?’

She flung out her arms, the fell lifted and a monster stood before the group. 

One or two of the girls screamed, and Turner immediately felt like vomiting. Before them stood a horrendous twisted mass of five women’s bodies, black and oily like Scathers, twisting and slithering around each other. Arms, legs, faces and torsos coalesced in a disgusting, writhing mess. The clump of bodies stood on three or four legs at a time, one leg occasionally disappearing into the assemblage, to be replaced by another a moment later.

For Turner, the most horrible thing of all was the look on the faces. Each looked like it was in the middle of a harrowing, pain-filled scream.

Turner couldn’t tear his gaze from the spectacle of living death. Beside him one of the girls sobbed ‘No, no, no.’ Over and over. Turner blinked. And just like that, the woman was back. Or more precisely he thought, the monster’s fell was back on.

‘Do you …’ Celeste’s voice cracked. ‘Do you want us to help you?’

‘Help?
Help?
’ screeched the woman. ‘We don’t want your help.
Or
your pathetic pity. We want
him
!’ She pointed at Turner. ‘Your precious Ellring. As soon as we rose from the Grimshade we felt his presence. We knew then how we to get what we
really
want.’

‘Which is?’ asked Celeste.

‘Power! In the middle of the Grimshade is a column of pure dark power. It creates all of the Scathers, and emits all the evil power of the Grimshade. We want that power. Imagine what we could become! But we can’t get close enough, there are too many Scathers around it, protecting it. Even though we are mostly Scather ourselves, they still attack us. But with the power of an Ellring …’

‘The Scathers would fly away and scatter,’ said Turner.

The woman’s eyes were glowing steadily now. ‘Yes! Exactly.’

Turner realised what was happening. ‘Oh I see. It’s me for Aunt Lani, right?’

The woman’s voice was deeper now. ‘Clever little Ellring.’

Celeste took a step forward. ‘Of course Turner is not going with you. You’re probably the reason he’s an Ellring at all. You.
You’re
the apocalypse. And we know Aunt Lani would rather die, than let loose an evil onto the Earth.’

Turner felt things were about to get out of hand. What to do? The girls wouldn’t let him go. He had no intention of helping this monster in any way. But if she didn’t get what she wanted, Aunt Lani would die. And if they battled the monster, some or all of the girls might as well. If only he could get to Aunt Lani. It would nullify the monster woman’s hold on the group. If he could … Ah! Of course!

Turner turned to Ember. He embraced her and gave her a quick kiss. ‘Thank you. For everything.’

Ember frowned. ‘Turner?’

Turner didn’t want to stop and talk. Now he had made the decision he didn’t even want to think about it. If he was wrong he was dead, but he knew he wasn’t. He ran towards the pit.

‘Turner!’ came Ember’s scream.

Turner reached the low stone wall. He didn’t hesitate. He leapt the wall without touching it, and jumped straight into the stinking pit beyond. He flung out his arms, looked into an endless blackness, and hoped with all his heart it wouldn’t hurt.

*

Ember saw Turner run towards the pit. What the hell was he doing? ‘Turner!’ She started forward but felt as if she were running in treacle, her hands reaching out, her sisters’ heads all turning in slow motion. By the time she made it to the pit, mere seconds later, Turner was gone.

Afraid she would fall, she staggered back, and grasped at the stone wall, her gaze all the while on the deep emptiness. ‘No.’

From behind her, the same word, screamed: ‘Noooo!’ Ember didn’t even look around. Why would he do that? Did he sacrifice himself? How could she … they … carry on without him?

‘No. No. No,’ she cried. Tears ran from her tightly squeezed eyes.

A hand on her shoulder. ‘Ember.’ She didn’t know or care who it was. ‘Ember. Listen to me.’

It was Chloe. Without turning, Ember replied, ‘What?’

‘Can you feel him?’

This time Ember looked at her sister. ‘What?’

‘Reach out, Em,’ said Chloe softly. ‘Can you feel him?’

Ember blinked. As soon as she thought about the connection she and Turner shared, she knew. She knew. He was alive! And he was feeling … surprised?

Ember sniffed, and embraced Chloe. ‘Yes! He’s alive, Chloe! Oh my God. How did you know?’

‘The flash of light whenever anything was thrown into the pit. It’s not really a pit at all. It’s like the wells, or really, more like the Scather gates. It’s a transporter.’

Over Chloe’s shoulder, Ember saw Celeste, Skye … and Brooke. 

‘The monster woman disappeared down one of her holes,’ said Celeste.

Ember didn’t care about the monster woman at the moment — she couldn’t tear her gaze from Brooke, who was still on her knees. Ember’s heart raced. How could Brooke bring this … thing … into the world? And now Turner was gone,
and
Aunt Lani. Sparks danced around Ember’s fingertips, her rage grew, and without thinking she raised her hands to send a fireball at Brooke. 

‘No!’ shouted Chloe and Celeste together as they grabbed Ember. 

‘Stop it, Em! Stop it!’ yelled Celeste in her face. 

After a moment, Ember focused on her sister and realised what she had been about to do. She began to cry. She lowered her arms and the sparks died away. Celeste embraced her. Chloe and Skye stepped in and wrapped their arms around the other two.

‘I’m sorry, Ember,’ Brooke sobbed from over on the lawn. The four girls turned to look at her. Tears still fell and her face was torn by grief. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’

Ember turned her face away from Brooke. She wasn’t going to forgive her sister that easily. She stepped away from her sisters, and looked at the pit again. ‘Turner. Aunt Lani.’

‘We should follow Turner’s example. Go and help.’ Chloe indicated the pit.

Skye’s eyes went wide. ‘I’m not going down there! Instant death? No way!’

Ember felt a nervous tingle right through her body. ‘Turner went, Skye, and he’s still alive. We have to go. We have to jump. All together, holding hands. The Vordene.’

Celeste frowned. ‘I’m not sure. Chloe?’

‘I’m sure it’s fine. I think inanimate objects like rocks and houses are zapped away, people just pop out the other end. It’s just like travelling by well. Turner just figured it out before we did. He’s gone to rescue Aunt Lani.’

Brooke stepped up behind the others. ‘You can’t do it without me.’

Nobody spoke, but Celeste held out her hand and grasped Brooke’s. ‘Well, what are we waiting for?’

Yes! Ember grabbed the hands of her nearest sisters and pulled them all to the pit.

‘No!’ yelled Skye. ‘Wait! Shouldn’t we—’ But she was cut short as the combined rush of the girls sent them all over the edge.

The five sisters fell. Ember winced. Bloody hell, Skye had a loud scream!

*

Turner stopped yelling as soon as he realised he was no longer falling. Instead, he lay spread-eagled on a dusty floor. He stood, dusted himself off and looked from the floor to the ceiling. After his recent travels to the True and back, he thought he had a handle on these magic transporters, but he had no idea why he had just appeared on the floor instead of falling from the top of the room. He sniffed. The rancid odour of the pit had followed him through, but it was insipid and already seemed to be fading.

He appeared to be in an old school, or office building. The room was completely devoid of furniture or fittings. A dusty skin coated the walls, their dull green paint cracked and peeling. The light fixtures had been torn from the ceiling, leaving dangling wires and ugly holes. Drifts of dirt, rubbish and dust clustered against the walls. The windows were mostly still intact but frosted over with dirt. But Turner he could tell it was daytime here, wherever
here
was, by the diffused and sallow light that leaked into the room through the old glass. 

He wrinkled his nose. This place felt wrong. There was a deadness, a hollowness in the air, tinged with the smell of dust and mould. It felt like a shroud covered the place, and if pulled aside would reveal death, tombs and skulls. 

As if in answer to this thought, Turner noticed a pile of old rags in one corner. There was something … His stomach clenched. He walked slowly over to the corner in small jerking motions, not wanting to see. Of course it wasn’t a pile of rags, he knew it wouldn’t be. Turner could see a hand, stiff and grey, covered in dust, and now a foot missing its shoe. Turner started to shake, his throat contracted. A broken arm covered the head, but Turner could make out enough to see—it was old Mr Holt. His neck had been snapped, and his head twisted 180 degrees. A bloody smear and broken indentation on the wall above the body suggested the poor man had been tossed into the corner with some force.

This was the first dead body Turner had ever seen. He felt sick and empty, and his shaking wouldn’t stop. He turned away and stared at the window. He knew deep down he was not responsible for Mr Holt's death, but he still felt guilty. If it weren’t for him being the Ellring, Mr Holt would still be alive now, at home with Carl.

He swallowed hard, and remembered why he was here: to find Aunt Lani. He strode across the room. The doors, which opened with a harsh creak, led to a wide corridor. He was still thinking it was an abandoned school, ready for the wrecker’s ball, when he noticed an old sign on the wall. The words underneath an arrow were ‘Pathology, Nutrition & Dietetics’ and beneath that, ‘Patholeg, Maetheg a Dieteteg.’  Ah, bilingual. He was in a hospital. In Wales.

A soft thump came from somewhere to his right. He had no idea where to look, so trotted off in the direction of the sound. A couple of old metal hospital trollies were tipped over against the wall. He pulled them across the corridor making a rough barrier. Not much, but he might hear if someone was following him. He strode further down the hallway, his footfalls echoing off the smooth walls, and peered into every doorway, but they were mostly small office type rooms, all of them empty and dark. 

He had just reached a junction in the corridor, when a loud screech echoed through the old building. ‘Where are you, you horrid thing?!’

Stop talking about yourself that way, Witchypoo, Turner thought. He turned left into a corridor, which according to another sign, was a wing of wards. Turner’s hand tapped his thigh. He had to find Aunt Lani and get her out of here. Perhaps he, Aunt Lani and the whole Wickerwell Vordene could hide out in the True for a while? It wouldn’t be running away, would it? 

A crash from behind. Ha, she’d found his sophisticated trap, huh?

Turner sped up, but took long enough to check each ward as he passed. The large rooms were mostly empty except for scattered old metal bed frames, some on their side or upside down. Clumps of rubbish and dirt hugged the skirting boards.