beats per minute (7 page)

No sooner had she got to her feet was she back on the
ground.

She landed heavily on her backside. It hurt. An aching in
her jaw and the metallic tang of blood, trickling gelatinously inside her
mouth, told her that something or someone had knocked her down. She hadn’t even
seen it coming.

Christian crouched in front of her. The light blue eyes were
thoughtful; kind, even. Raegan could have almost believed it was all a dream if
it wasn’t for his smile. He was enjoying himself.

‘I’m very glad to see you again.’

If she wasn’t trapped against the wall, Christian blocking
her escape, two impossibly strong hands holding her legs down; if a tooth in
her mouth hadn’t come loose with the force of his punch; if the howling wind
and the squeezing and expanding of space in her vision hadn’t now accelerated
again; if the pendant on her chest wasn’t burning with painful intensity – they
could almost have been back in Mojo’s, engaging in a flirtation.

He was toying with her. She couldn’t pretend to herself that
she was going to survive this, but she would not be played.

Slowly Raegan raised her head, dry lips parting as she met
his gaze. But the pleas for mercy that Christian expected did not come.
Instead, mouth puckering, she spat the blood at him.

The blue eyes flickered with brief surprise.

Then the time for bravery was over. One moment had barely
turned into the next and he was upon her. Her throat was in his hand as if in a
stone vice, and she found her voice at last: choked, agonised screams burst
from her lips as he lifted her upwards.

Raegan’s hands batted uselessly at his as she
dangled,
held aloft by her neck. Weakening, one of her hands
dropped, as if tracing the mist descending in front of her eyes. It brushed
against the lump of her pendant; the pendant which was now glowing, the gold
light dazzling even through the layers of clothing. With her last ounce of
strength, she fumbled for it, and clasped it tightly in her hand. Her eyes
closed.

But death did not come. Instead, a sudden movement from
above and behind jolted her forward, and she was soaring upwards. Her eyes flew
open, and a yelp of fear was torn from her screaming mouth by the rushing wind;
Christian’s furiously mouthing face was growing smaller and smaller, as were
the houses, street lamps and the shadows of the forest. She was flying through
the night sky; and only the beating of huge wings behind her and the razor
sharp talons on her shoulders and under her armpits gave her any inkling as to
what was carrying her.

On and on they soared.

After a while it became apparent that it was beyond
Christian’s capabilities to give chase, and the steady, smooth action of the
creature’s flight quickly increased the gap between them. Any relief she might
have felt was stamped out when the occasional shadow flickered beneath her,
displaying an enormous shape looming overhead. Its bulk was also no shield to
the icy breeze which blasted her into numbness as they hurtled through the
night. Weightless within the steely grip of its talons, Raegan could do nothing
but hang, frozen into limpness, and wait. She screamed herself hoarse but gave
up when they reached the ocean: what was the point?

Suddenly a familiar row of lights appeared. They were
approaching Ramsey Island. The most enormous lump formed in her throat and she
was overwhelmed with longing to be tucked up in her bed, or eating crumpets at
Bridey’s table. These little things, things she’d taken for granted, had never
seemed more precious. She might never have them again.

Yet – weren’t they coming closer? The island was taking
shape, and the creature had not changed course. In fact- weren’t they slowing
down?

They were. Soon they were alongside the main house; Raegan
wondered whether to scream for help, and peered desperately into the windows as
they flashed past, searching for her grandparents. But the creature knew where
it was going, and swooped round to the side, continuing confidently toward a
brightly shining light at the top of the house. It was an open window. They
were not slowing down enough, though; the window was looming closer and closer
– they were going to crash–

At the last moment, the creature let go, and Raegan was
flung through her bedroom window with dizzying speed. Crashing down onto her
hands and knees, she skidded along the wooden floor and collided with the wall
on the other side, just missing the wardrobe.

Breathing painfully, she forced herself up, up, grabbing
clumsily onto bits of furniture. Her body felt more bruised than it had ever
been in her life, but she had to prepare for the next onslaught. She could not
allow herself to think that it was finally over.

And then the world gave way.
For suddenly,
before her eyes, stood Con.
He had hoisted himself through the window
with the agility of a man half his age. Drenched with sweat, he wore only a
t-shirt and jeans. A crescent of brown feathers clung to his chest.

It was too much. Raegan’s legs could no longer hold her. She
swayed on the spot and slid down the wall. Darkness licked at the edges of her
vision.

‘Head between your knees,’ distantly, she heard Con’s thick
irish
brogue.
‘Deep breaths.
Hold
on, Raegan. You’re safe now.’

His hand on her arm jolted Raegan back to reality, and she
pushed away sharply, backing into the wall in her haste. ‘Don’t.’ she snapped.
‘Get away from me.’ Black spots swam before her eyes, and she fought the urge
to be suddenly and violently sick.

Con’s hands were outstretched in a pacifying gesture. He
took a few steps back to perch awkwardly on the edge of her rose-pink
counterpane. When he spoke again, his tone was deliberately soothing. ‘Raegan,
you’ve had quite a time of it. And I need to hear it all. And you’ll
be wanting
to ask me some things, I know that. But you’re
bleeding, lass, and shaking like a leaf. You should have a hot shower, and let
Bridey take a look at your lip, and then-‘

‘No.’ Raegan’s voice was thick. Her lip, fresh blood oozing
over the original scab, was swelling rapidly. But her tone left no room for
argument.

‘Raegan-‘

‘Didn’t you hear me? I haven’t had “quite a time of it”,
Con
.’
The
last word was spat from tightly clenched lips.
‘Marie’s dead. I found her. But then I expect you already knew that. Then
someone found
me
. One of the men we met last night - except I don’t
think he’s just a man, but I then I guess you knew that, too. He was going to
kill me. So no, I don’t want to know “some things”. I want to know everything.
And you are going to tell me.’ She didn’t wait for an answer as she took a
shallow, agitated breath; her lungs made a wheezing sound, and she winced
slightly at the pain. ‘We’ll talk now.’

The long silence that followed crackled with tension as both
wondered where to begin.

‘What are you?’ She said finally.

His response was swift and simple.
‘A
shape shifter.’
Con did not falter when Raegan’s eyes widened to the
point of popping out. He merely waited patiently until she had digested this
enough to form a reply.

‘And you flew me here.’

‘Yes. My preferred form is an eagle.’

‘Preferred…
form
?’

‘I could shift into other creatures, but it would take a lot
of effort. I have been one with the birds for many years; it is second nature
to me now.’

‘But how…?’ Her voice trailed away as, at that very moment,
a ray of light bounced off the surface of the glass pendant. She froze. ‘Did –
was this-‘

‘How I found you? Yes.’ Con leant forward, his voice
measured. ‘You felt it burning, did you not?’

‘When Christian…whatever he was… came closer. And also, it
glowed. But I didn’t notice that until the end.’

‘Did you notice anything else about it?’

She shook her head.

‘Take it out now. Look at it, carefully.’

Her hands were still very cold, but the pendant was
comfortingly warm to the touch. Warily, with one eye still on him, Raegan
lifted it close to her face. She looked up sharply.

‘The beads!
Before, the beads were
equally spread, almost, half on one side and half on the other. Now they’re
nearly all at the bottom.’ Without thinking, Raegan began to shake the little
hourglass, but the beads were fixed solid once more. There was no movement.

‘In an ordinary hourglass, this would mean that time had
nearly run out.’ His words hung on the air. Something inside Raegan awoke.

‘My dreams…’ The memories washed over her now. ‘They’ve been
full of hourglasses.
Every last one.
Night after
night, ever since I arrived here, I’ve been dreaming about hourglasses. I
couldn’t remember before…’

Without warning the window rattled in the frame. Raegan
jumped. ‘You’re sure we’re safe here?’

‘Quite safe.
The birds will warn me
if anyone approaches the island.’

Something like scepticism crossed Raegan’s face. ‘The birds
will warn you?’

Con did not even blink. ‘So they will.’

She giggled once.
Then again.
And
then she could not stop; from nowhere, she was doubled over with laughter at
the ridiculousness of it all. Her grandfather was a shape shifter! Her pendant
and her dreams were connected, and the birds would let them know what was
happening outside!

Unmoveable as a stone, his elbows on his knees and chin
resting on his fingertips, Con regarded his granddaughter. ‘This no doubt seems
odd. Mad, even. But it is true, Raegan, all of it. Everything you have heard
and everything you will hear is true.
About me, about what
you encountered tonight, and about yourself.’

‘About me?’

‘You have a part in this, Raegan.
The
biggest part of all, in fact.
That’s why he came after you tonight.’

Her laughter died in her throat. ‘There’s something wrong
with me, isn’t there?’

Con’s answering bark echoed around the quiet room.

‘Wrong with you!
You
stupid girl!’
  The agitation propelled him to his feet and he began
to pace; when he turned back to her, his eyes were shining with blue fire.

‘You’re gifted, Raegan. Uniquely blessed, in fact, but with
a type of gift shared by only a very special few. It runs in families, but
tends to show up sporadically; perhaps every five, ten, fifteen, generations –
who knows.’

‘No. This… you’ve got it wrong.’ Raegan licked her dry lips.
‘I’m not good at anything. I don’t- I’m not
talented
-‘

‘Your talent has never been tested,’ Con retorted. ‘And
anyway, it doesn’t truly show itself until your sixteenth birthday - though a
few weeks before that you begin to have the dreams.’

This struck a chord. ‘Then what happens?’

‘It works differently for everyone, as far as I know. But
tell me – tonight, when you were distressed, or worked up, how did it feel?’

She didn’t want to say it out loud. He would think she was
insane. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘How was your vision?’

There were tears in her eyes. ‘You won’t understand. Anyway,
I don’t think this has anything to do with what you… with what you’re talking
about.’

‘Try me.’

Raegan opened her mouth to protest, but shut it again almost
immediately. She was so tired of pretending.

‘All through today, it’s been like when I’m upset, or
scared, or whatever, things around me…change.
The scenery.
It’s as if... it’s almost like it reflects my mood.’

There was a gleam in Con’s eyes as he looked down at her.
The excitement was palpable in his voice. ‘Not your mood, Raegan.
Your heartbeat.
The world jumps around you because your
heart does.’

What Raegan was expecting him to say, she didn’t know – but
it wasn’t that. But the need to understand was greater than the sudden,
powerful urge to bolt. She stayed put.

Con took this as a signal to continue.

‘It was always a possibility that this would happen; like I
said, the gift is a birthright, passed down through generations of my family.
Your da and I weren’t so lucky; though Joe didn’t quite see it that way – he
thought it was a blessing in disguise. Your parents worked hard to conceal the
existence of the gift from you. They hoped to spare you the potential dangers
of being one of the few.

‘But tonight proves that the essential spark within you
cannot be denied.’

Usually a taciturn man, it was clear that this was a subject
on which Con could talk for hours.

‘It’s chosen you, Raegan. It’s part of who you are and
always will be. Those like the being that found you tonight will always seek
you out because of it; because they can see something so precious and vibrant
in you.’

It might be stark, bald, frightening – but he could not
protect her any longer. Honesty was all that was left.

A clock ticked distantly from downstairs. Her reply, when at
last it came, was almost as faint.

‘I don’t know why but... I think I believe you. I do.
Believe.’

As she spoke she realised she did. It was like a secret she
had kept without realising. Truth blossomed before her. She could feel it in
her bones, in the same way that she knew the scent of earth and the feeling of
rain.

It was as if she had been waiting her whole life to have
this conversation.

The quiet had transformed from deafening into comfortable,
broken only by the gentle patter of a late shower outside. Noticing that Raegan
was shivering
slightly,
Con moved to close the window.
He took a seat in the armchair closest to his granddaughter, giving an audible
sound of relief as he took the weight off his aching limbs.

There were so many questions. She opted for the biggest.
‘But what is it that they see in me? The gift, you call it – what is it,
exactly?’

‘Aye, well, there’s the rub.’ Con ran a huge hand over his
face. The emerging bristles on his chin made a scraping sound. ‘Exactitude
doesn’t come into it, I’m afraid. I can only give you the basics. But I think
the basics will be more than enough for now.

‘Baldly speaking, you are descended from a being – a human –
who was quite remarkable.
A courageous, selfless hero.
In recognition of this, he was elevated: blessed with a sacred duty and the
preternatural talents necessary to complete his task.

‘He was the first guardian of time.

‘These are the gifts that have passed down, through his
bloodline, to you. Tonight you were not witnessing random alterations in
scenery but alterations in time. Your heart now beats as his did; like the
ticking of a clock, inextricably linked to time itself. Master your heartbeat
and you will master time. It may sound unfathomable, even frightening, to you
now. But you will learn.’

‘The hourglasses,’ Raegan breathed. It was too much; she couldn’t
take it in, all this talk of guardians and heartbeats and time, but the image
of the hourglass lingered. Her words came thick and fast. ‘Was that why I kept
dreaming of them?
Of hourglasses?
And my pendant, it-‘

Con cut her off midflow, holding up his hands as if to stem
the tide.
‘One thing at a time, child.
The
hourglasses, I believe, tend to pop up more and more frequently in a Regent’s
dreams just before his or her 16
^th
birthday; a sign that your true
nature is beginning to emerge.’

‘A Regent?’

‘Regent is the title given to the guardians of time.
However-
‘ Con
held up a warning finger. ‘
you
are only masters of time by proxy. The gift has been
awarded to you by the higher powers. You are in service of them, their chosen
representatives on Earth.
Their Regents.’

She began to ask a question before he even finished
speaking, but he stopped her, gently.

‘Don’t ask me to elaborate on the higher powers, Raegan.’
The shrewd eyes were not unkind. ‘I expect every single person who has recently
lost someone precious to them would ask about that first. I cannot tell you
where your mother’s soul is now, or what role the powers that be had in her
departure from this world.’

The childlike, irrational hope that leaped in Raegan’s chest
for a moment disappeared.