Ruins (38 page)

Rae glared at Dawn. “You’ve been following me, haven’t you? Ever since I came here.”

“It’s a good thing that she did,” Isabel interrupted from the windowsill. “Or we’d never have found you.”

“Found me? I dunno know who you are,
cat
, but–”

“I will not be spoken to in that impertinent manner!” Isabel spat.

“You really don’t want to get on her bad side,” Nicholas warned Rae. “Trust me.”

“She’s a talking cat!” Rae laughed incredulously. “The dog read tea leaves?!”

Isabel emitted a low growl that vibrated in Nicholas’s chest.

“Let’s just... not,” he said, eager to avoid any more drama. “Rae, yes, we’ve all been trying to find you, but Laurent got to you first.”

She stared at him, but she no longer seemed on the verge of erupting. Perhaps she could tell that he was being truthful. Or perhaps she, too, still felt what he had in the oblituss – that crackling connection, like something had slotted into place. They fit. Two peas in a paranormal pod.

“What’s special about me?” she asked.

“Apart from the fact you can blow up buildings on command?” Nicholas joked. A look of pain flickered across her face and he recalled the vision of a dead boy in rubble.

Great start, idiot.

“Seriously, though, you might want to take a seat,” he said. Eyeing him warily, Rae leaned against the wall. Deciding that was probably about as relaxed as she was going to get, Nicholas began. He told her about the Sentinels, and demons, and everything else in between. He explained what Laurent was planning, how he wanted to resurrect the Dark Prophets and unleash hell on earth.

When he’d finished, Rae stood quietly, her expression barely changing. He wished he could tell what she was thinking. She’d grown up on the streets. She must have seen things. Was the truth really that much of a surprise?

Finally, she spoke. “And you need me...?”

“We’re the same. We have... abilities, I guess. The Sentinels believe we can raise the Trinity. Which now I say it out loud sounds seven types of crazy. But that’s what they believe.”

“You blow things up, too?” Rae asked.

“I see things,” Nicholas explained.

“
See
things?”

“He has the sight,” Isabel snapped.

Rae bit her lip. “That mean your parents are...”

“
Were
,” Nicholas corrected her. He glanced at Dawn. “And Dawn’s were, too. Sort of.”

“Welcome to the Orphans’ Club,” Dawn murmured. She wasn’t quite an orphan, but she probably felt like it with her mum not around.

Rae pushed away from the wall, turning to look at it once more. Nicholas still couldn’t believe he’d found her, that he’d managed to convince her to come with him. He remained wary. Had the faceless man really shocked Rae to her senses, or was this all part of Laurent’s scheme?

“I don’t believe...” Rae murmured. “How am I supposed to know who’s telling the truth and who’s a big fat liar?”

Nicholas was stumped. She had a point. It was naïve of him to think she’d simply accept everything he told her, especially after all the nonsense Laurent had filled her head with. He couldn’t tell her. He’d have to show her.

“I have an idea,” he said. “We’d probably have to hold hands, though.”

Rae’s stare was lethal. Nicholas was reminded of the way he’d acted when he first arrived at Hallow House. The anger and frustration. Not understanding anything; discovering himself at the edge of a forest of secrets. He felt sorry for her.

“Children,” Isabel growled.

“Do you want to know the truth or not?” Nicholas demanded, holding his hand out.

Finally, Rae rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand.

This time, he controlled the flood of images. He showed her everything he’d experienced since Anita and Max had died in the train wreck. The secret study in their room. Malika. Jessica. Hallow House. Snelling. Laurent attacking him in the Abbey Gardens. The images poured out of him. His grief was a black ooze, and he shared that, too. He opened himself up, gave it all to Rae. It was the only way she’d ever understand.

He didn’t ask anything in return. She’d show him when she was ready. For now, her mind was a brick wall again, and he wouldn’t abuse her fragile trust by blasting through it.

She gasped as she released his hand. She looked at him differently, trembling.

“All that happened? For real?”

He nodded. There was nothing left to say.

After a moment, Rae sighed. She stared at each of them in turn, as if seeing Nicholas, Isabel and Dawn for the first time. Her prickly edges had been worn down.

“How do we stop Laurent?” she asked.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Nicholas replied.

“Tortor,” Dawn said softly.

“You find something?” he asked.

“It’s Latin. Tortor means ‘torment’.”

Dawn clicked something on the laptop and an image of a piece of paper came up. It was singed around the edges.

“The only time ‘Tortor’ is used as a noun by anybody as far as I can tell is in this journal by somebody called Father Philip. He was a priest in Bury in the 1600s. This entry is from 11 April, 1608. I had to run it through a translation site, but basically, he says, ‘The devil Tortor has been contained. Peace will return.’ And that’s all he wrote.”

It was the Tortor that had been locked away in the oblituss. The faceless man. And now he was out.

“Is that all there is? Nothing more?”

“Well,” Dawn said, “there was a fire. On 11 April, 1608. One-hundred-and-sixty houses were destroyed. If I was a gambler, I’d say the Tortor was responsible.”

“It’s not just a weird coincidence?”

“Thought we didn’t believe in those,” Dawn said.

“Right.” As if on cue, the sound of distant sirens came through the window. Nicholas rushed over and watched red and blue lights dance over the rooftops a few streets away. Fire crackled in the distance. A great plume of black smoke rushed into the evening sky.

Nicholas squinted. He was certain dark shapes were swooping above the town.

The
aledites
.

“Looks like the Tortor’s started,” he said. He peered down. People were coming into the safehouse. More Sentinels. Back-up had arrived. He returned his attention to the room. “But… the Tortor destroys things. Sets fires. Big whoop. How does that help Laurent?”

“It must be tied to Laurent’s plan,” Dawn said quietly. “Whatever he’s going to do, he’s doing it tonight.”

“Rae,” Nicholas said, filled with urgency. “What did Laurent tell you? Did he say anything about what he was planning?”

She looked torn for a moment. He feared that her loyalties still weren’t set.

“Please,” he said. “People are going to die if we don’t stop him.”

Rae tugged at the slender chain around her neck. “Trikraft,” she relented finally. “I heard him with somebody. They were talking in one of the rooms down there. He kept saying ‘trikraft’.”

“Isabel?” Nicholas ventured.

The cat’s whiskers trembled. “The trikraft traps power,” she said. “Three points are marked to form a triangle and a summoning incantation is spoken. They’re often used to summon unquiet spirits. Strange, the trikraft is usually associated with female power.”

A triangle
. Another piece of the puzzle the seeing glass had presented.

“Could it be used to summon the Prophets?” Nicholas asked.

“If Laurent has discovered a way to channel dark magic through the trikraft, it is, theoretically, possible,” Isabel mitigated sombrely.

Nicholas hurried to the wall and scoured a map of the town.
Three points
. He traced his finger from the condemned school to the Abbey Gardens to Moyse’s Hall Museum. Three places Laurent had been seen. If he linked them all together, they formed a perfect triangle.

“He’s going to use the whole town as some sort of gateway,” he said.

“He will need to perform a ritual at each point within the hour of the incantation,” Isabel said. “If he leaves it any longer, the power will dissipate and he’ll have lost his chance.”

“We’re going to have to hit those three locations, then,” Nicholas said, pulling the sling off and shoving it into his pocket. He raised his arm, stretching his shoulder out. It felt creaky but good. “Rae, do you know which one Laurent will be at?”

Rae shrugged. “No idea.”

The window erupted in a hail of glass. Something thudded against the wall and dropped to the floor. A flaming rock. Stunned, Nicholas stared at the shattered windowframe. A dark shape was clambering inside.

“Harvesters!” he cried. He threw himself at the figure, forcing it back out the window. The Harvester shrieked and plummeted to the street below. Nicholas chanced a look outside. More dark shapes were hurling themselves at the front door, smashing their way through the lounge window.

“Downstairs!” he shouted.

They bowled out of the bedroom, hurrying down the stairs. Nicholas crashed into Liberty in the hall.

“Nicholas, everybody, hurry,” she said.

He heard screams and shouts from the living room and rushed through the kitchen. Aileen stood in the pantry, holding open the door to the secret rooms.

“Inside,” she urged.

Nicholas pushed Isabel and the girls through, hurrying after them.

“Where’s everybody else?” he panted, climbing the stairs to the bedrooms. The landing was full of people. At least thirty of them were crammed into the tight space.

“Nick,” Merlyn called. “You okay?” He pushed his way through the crowd to join them.

“We’re fine. How did they find us?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Merlyn said. He shot Rae a suspicious look.

“She’s been with us the whole time, it wasn’t her,” Nicholas said.

“Somebody must’ve been tailed,” Merlyn said.

A boom resounded through the pantry door. Liberty appeared with Nale and Aileen close behind. Zeus shepherded them up the stairs and then the giant dog stood guard, his eyes trained on the pantry door below.

“Rudy,” Aileen whispered. “Poor Rudy.”

“We’re locked in, should buy us some time,” Liberty said.

“He’s using the town,” Nicholas told her. “The school, the ruins, the museum. Laurent’s creating a…”

“A trikraft,” Isabel drawled from his shoulder. “Have you noticed it’s getting awfully crowded in here?”

“Right, trikraft,” Nicholas said, ignoring her last comment.

Liberty nodded solemnly. “Everybody quiet!” she yelled. The Sentinels fell silent. Muted thumps came from the pantry door as the Harvesters attempted to force their way inside. “There isn’t much time,” she continued. “As soon as they get through that door, it’s a free for all. Is everybody armed?”

Weapons of every variety jabbed at the ceiling.

“Nicholas, tell them,” Liberty said.

Nicholas’s knees went weak. He stared at the expectant faces, trying to block out the sounds of the Harvesters hacking at the pantry door.

“Laurent’s released the Tortor,” he said.

“Speak up!” somebody gruffed.

“Laurent’s released the Tortor!” Nicholas yelled. “He’s going to destroy this town and everybody in it. He has to be stopped.” His voice rose. “We have to separate. When we get out of here, we have to get to the school, the Abbey Gardens and the museum.”

“What is this Tortor?” somebody asked.

“It’s a demon without a face,” Nicholas said.

“Sounds like my ex-wife,” one of the Sentinels deadpanned.

“Laurent’s been collecting totems,” Liberty said. “If you get close enough, destroy them. Trust me when I say it’ll hit him where it hurts. Form three groups. Laurent wants to raise a little hell; let’s show him how it’s done.”

The pantry door smashed open and a cacophony of rampaging Harvesters rang in Nicholas’s ears.

*

The darkness of the oblituss welcomed him.

Laurent almost permitted himself a smile, then quickly suppressed it. Not yet. Not until he had what he needed.

He quivered as he moved through the dank caves. The vibes pulsing through this desolate wasteland were intoxicating. The power that had resided here, the combined might of the priests and the monster they’d buried, was potent as gunpowder. The two forces forever tussled in the atmosphere, even after both parties had departed.

Laurent approached the final cave and took in his surroundings. The twisted metal of the jail cell; the fallen priests, their skeletons grinning madly at him.

“Evening, chaps,” he murmured, scratching his fingernails across the cranium of one of the skulls. It tumbled to the floor and rolled into a corner.

The girl was gone. They must have come for her. It didn’t matter; his followers were on her trail even now. They’d bring her back to him. Everything would work out just as he’d planned. The old man was in police custody, right where he belonged. It was all falling into place.