Dreams (Sarah Midnight Trilogy 1) (23 page)

“You look lovely,” Harry blurted out, and immediately busied himself with coffee-making. Sarah blushed and didn’t reply.

“Anyway, let’s lie low. I say you’re not going back to school until Monday.”

“Good.” Four days at home. Bliss. Sarah loved school, especially the music lessons, but she was finding going to school, and her dreams, and all that was happening around her, just too much. She was constantly afraid that she’d be attacked there, and that someone would get hurt.

Sarah downed her coffee. “See you later.”

“Where are you going?” Harry was alarmed. He didn’t like her going out alone.

“Just into the garden,” shouted Sarah, already out of the door. Harry grabbed his jacket and followed her. He was about to step out when the phone rang, and he walked back in to answer.

Sarah walked down the sandstone steps … and there it was. A leaf. A golden one, a million different shades of yellow-gold. An oak leaf, perfectly beautiful, with its map of symmetrical veins running through it. Sarah felt the world spinning around her, and her legs gave way for a second. She was so happy, so happy, in a strange, dazed sort of way. It was as if mist had come over her eyes, and all she could see, all she could think about, was that perfect, beautiful leaf. As if nothing else mattered.

He’d found the way to say ‘I’m here’, though for some reason he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t talk.

As Harry appeared in the doorway, Sarah hid the leaf behind her back, and blanked her expression quickly. Part of her knew that she was breaking Harry’s trust; part of her wanted desperately to tell him. But she just couldn’t. Something was stopping her, and she couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Who was it on the phone?” she asked Harry coolly.

“Marketing.”

Sarah let Harry walk on into the garden, and as soon as he turned his back, she hid the leaf in the pocket of one of the jackets hanging in the hall. She stroked it one last time, before running out again.

When? When will I see him again?

She ran across the garden and into her mother’s corner. She kneeled on the damp, black soil, under a steely sky, and looked up. The clouds were galloping, galloping, like wild horses. With delicate fingers, Sarah touched the rosemary, the sage, the thyme, the mint … Who’d guess that these humble herbs hide such power?

“Can I help?”

“It’s OK, don’t worry. I just don’t want my mum’s herb garden to be neglected. It’s up to me to look after it now.”

“Do you want some peace? Do you want me to go?”

“No, stay.” Sarah smiled unexpectedly, one of those rare smiles that lit up her face.

Harry sat on the little stone wall that framed the herb garden, and breathed in the fresh morning air. He looked around him: the green lawns strewn with leaves, the oak trees at the back, the duck pond in the distance, covered with water lilies. A miniature park, just for the Midnights.

“This house is amazing.”

“Yes. I hope I never have to leave.”

“You won’t. Don’t worry. I’ll see to that.”

Sarah looked up, frowning. She couldn’t bear the idea of being made empty, flippant promises. She looked at him with dark, serious eyes – and Harry met her gaze. She saw that his face was solemn too.

He means it.

A quick, near-imperceptible smile lingered on her lips – it was all she would allow herself, for now. She couldn’t let herself believe he’d really stay, yet.

They sat in peaceful silence, Sarah weeding, Harry lost in thought. After a short while, Sarah got up to stretch her legs.

“Cup of tea?” asked Harry.

“I knew you’d say that!” she laughed, but stopped abruptly.

She’d heard a noise, a faint noise, like a sigh. They’d both heard it, and they both looked around, alarmed.

“Did you hear something?” Sarah whispered.

Harry nodded. He was tense, alert, looking around like an animal that just smelled a predator’s scent. He freed his
sgian-dubh
, readying himself for a fight, or a spell.

A raven landed beside them in a flurry of wings and feathers.

“Harry …”

Harry shook his head, and brought a finger to his lips.

Sarah felt something at the base of her neck, a gentle, imperceptible touch that gave her goose bumps. A tiny sigh resounded in her ears, so low she barely heard it. Suddenly her arms felt cold.

“Harry,” she whispered again, looking down. A white, icy mist was enveloping her arms slowly, threading itself from thin air, as if an invisible silkworm were spinning it.
Like in my dream
.

“Oh my God …”

Harry started tracing his runes and whispering his secret words. The mist was climbing up Sarah’s arms, towards her chest. It felt cold and numb, like an anaesthetic, slowly running through her system, sending her to sleep. It got to her neck, and was swirling around her like a caress, soft and deadly. Sarah’s head started lolling. She tried to keep her eyes open, but she couldn’t. The mist covered her face, and she fell on the cold, hard ground.

Harry threw himself on the ground beside her, and kept weaving his spell, but it was no use. There was no stopping the mist. The raven cawed three times, as if calling for help. But how could help ever arrive in time, when Sarah was already barely breathing? Harry kept whispering his secret words, even if it was no use; he kept murmuring, like a prayer or an invocation.

“Sarah!” A voice filled the air, coming from the edge of the garden. A boy, standing on the garden wall. His hair was so black it was nearly blue, and he was dressed in black from top to toe – he looked like a moving piece of night, like he’d been made of darkness. Harry stopped his spell abruptly and jumped up, his
sgian-dubh
raised in defence.

“No need for that. I’m here to help Sarah.”

Harry nodded. As much as he hated himself for it, he had no choice but to put the dagger down, slowly, reluctantly. There was no time to lose. Sarah’s sleep was slowly turning into unconsciousness – the next step would be death. Her breathing was shallow, barely-there sighs that couldn’t keep her alive for long.

“Sarah …”

At the sound of Leaf‘s voice, she opened her eyes a little.

“Leaf,” she whispered.

Harry felt a bitter taste in his mouth, like bile rising. He had to accept Leaf‘s help. He looked at the boy with hostility, and for a second it seemed to Harry that his eyes were burning, like those coals that look cold, but if you turn them they glow red under the ash. A dark, deep glow. It was just a moment, then Leaf‘s eyes turned black again.

Is he human?

Leaf kneeled beside Sarah, sank his hands into the mist, and started weaving it around his fingers, like a cobweb, or spun silk. As soon as it touched Leaf‘s hands the mist dissolved in a million little droplets that evaporated quickly.

Fire against water
, thought Harry. A strange thought took shape in his head, passing quickly and fading away, like a falling star:
he is fire
.

Leaf worked for a few minutes in complete silence, Sarah’s breathing becoming slowly deeper and more regular as he dissolved the mist, until she regained consciousness. She sat up, rubbing her face. She was deadly pale, and her lips were blue. Harry went to hold her, and he was startled at how cold she felt.

“Sarah, let me warm you,” He started rubbing her arms and holding her close, but Sarah’s eyes never left Leaf‘s face.

Now it’s me who’s burning
, Harry thought. He wanted to throw the black-eyed boy over the wall; he wanted to drag Sarah in the house and lock the door.

She’s mine.

“Harry! Leaf is hurt,” whispered Sarah, her face full of worry. She freed herself from Harry’s arms and went to the black-eyed boy. Leaf seemed to have paled more and more as he was weaving the mist, and his skin, pale already, had taken on a blue tinge. He tried to speak, but all of a sudden, he fell on his knees. He curled up on the ground, his eyes closed, trembling. Sarah put her hands on him – he was freezing cold.

“We need to warm him up!”

Harry didn’t move.

“Leaf …” She put her arm around his shoulder. “Harry, please, a blanket.”

Still, Harry didn’t move.

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” Leaf whispered, still curled up. “Don’t worry. I’ll be OK in a minute. It needs to work its way out of me …”

Sarah watched him anxiously for a couple of minutes, until he finally sat up, slowly. He wasn’t shaking any more. The mist had gone through his system, and left him. Both Sarah and Harry were watching him intensely: Sarah with apprehension; Harry pondering how desperately he wanted that strange boy to disappear.

Suddenly, Harry spotted something out of the corner of his eye, something white and stringy, like a wavy ribbon of steam taking shape in the air.

“Sarah. It’s back.”

The thread of mist had already started circling slowly around the three of them, and the air was turning colder, colder. Sarah froze. She could already feel her breath becoming shallower.

“Don’t move.” Leaf stood up, raised a hand and traced a run in the air while making a deep, weird howling sound, like an animal call.

And there she was, strong, proud, with eyes of pure amber and whiskers vibrating with rage. It was a wildcat – or looked like one. Sparks were springing from her paws and from her whiskers, as she started circling slowly, in the opposite direction from the mist.

“A spirit of fire!” whispered Harry.

The wildcat jumped into the air, and trapped a thread of mist into her claws. She jumped again and again, shredding the mist with her paws, as sparks flew all around her. She jumped so close to Sarah and Harry that they thought she’d cut them with her claws – but she always avoided them at the last second.

Thread after thread, the mist was gone. The wildcat stood with her claws sunk into the earth, rolled her head back and gave a deep, growly miaow. She shuddered, and a little blue lightning came from the sky, through her fur and down to her claws. Her fur stood up, electrified. Then she seemed to relax. She stretched slowly, with a deep, languid yawn.

The wildcat looked at them one last time – her amber eyes were the same colour as Shadow’s, but a bit darker – and jumped away, disappearing among the oak trees, followed by the ravens flying away into the darkening sky.

Sarah was speechless. It was one of the most amazing things she’d ever seen in her life.
A spirit of fire
.

“That was
incredible
!” she said, and her eyes were shining.

“The demon won’t be back again,” whispered Leaf. “I have to go.”

Sarah felt a stabbing through the heart. “Don’t go. Stay,” she pleaded, and it was such a raw, vulnerable thing to say that Harry felt sick to his stomach.

“I’m sorry, I have to.” Leaf stood close to Sarah, so close that she could feel his warm breath on her neck. “Think of me,” he whispered in her ear, making her knees go soft. Her mind emptied, as it always seemed to do when Leaf was around.

Sarah watched him walk away, a tide of loneliness filling her, rising slowly with every step he took. He jumped over the wall and disappeared – and Sarah’s heart overflowed with invisible tears. He never stops. He never gives me time to speak to him. She felt her eyes welling up, and hated herself for it.

“What did he say to you?” asked Harry.

“Nothing. Just to take care.”

For a second Harry imagined how it would be to put his hands around Leaf ‘s neck and feel it snap.

“Four to go,” he whispered darkly, and walked away without looking back, wishing that Leaf had stayed where he belonged, in Sarah’s dreams.

Sarah followed him into the house and went straight upstairs – she wanted to be alone. She wasn’t surprised when she found a golden leaf on her pillow, waiting for her.

To be innocent again

To know right from wrong, the way I used to

Before you came along

Sarah was lying on her bed listening to her iPod, with the golden leaf resting on her chest. The door opened slightly. Her heart skipped a beat, and she jumped up in alarm, ripping the headphones out of her ears. She was still shaken. It was terrifying to be attacked in her own home, never to feel truly safe. How long was that fear going to last?

Forever
, said a voice inside her head.

“Sarah?”

Thank God, it was Harry. She hurried to open the door.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” She gestured to her iPod, and went to sit on the windowsill, hugging her knees. Harry sat on her bed.

He looks so kind. He looks so … Harry
. Sarah had to fight the impulse to walk up to him and hold him, and hide her face in his chest. She took a deep breath.

“I wanted to speak to you about that boy, Leaf,” he began.

I knew it.

“Yes.” She could see he was upset, but she didn’t want to give anything away. She didn’t know what to say, anyway. It was all such a mystery. And her own feelings were the biggest mystery of all. The strange bond she felt with Leaf was inexplicable. Like a spell.