Sovereign Hope (19 page)

“
And what is it, this high?” I asked.

Daniel left my
words hanging undisturbed in the air for a moment before he said,
“Life.”

“
Life?” I felt stupid, repeating every other word he said. It
was surprising he hadn’t begun mocking me for it
already.

“
Yeah. It’s the same high the Immortals feed off, but humans
can’t handle the strength of it. They can’t handle the
power.”

“
Oh.” The word sounded like a small, round pebble, cast into
still water. The ripple it made was palpable as we both sat there,
awkward and uncomfortable.

“
The Immortals can take life, filter it, and pass some of that
on to another person. Someone like you,” Daniel
murmured.

I didn’t like
the way he said that, as though he thought I might be the sort of
person up for stealing someone’s soul in order to get wasted, like
some out of control junkie. He clarified what he meant when he
spoke again. “It would be so easy for them to take your life. And,
trust me, it would taste sweeter than most.”

The thought
set my teeth on edge, even if it did kind of sound like he had paid
me a weird, creepy compliment. The prospect of anyone tasting my
soul was more than unpleasant.

“
They call the process riding the lightning. I’m sure you can
imagine from the name that it’s not an easy or pleasant
experience.”

I could
imagine. I’d heard the term before, but used in reference to when
the state executed someone in the electric chair. The comparison
made me judder. “Doesn’t it hurt the Immortal? To channel energy
like that?”

Daniel gave a
low grunt. “Far from it. It costs them a tiny part of their energy
stores. It’d be the same as a billionaire spending ten cents. And
the returns are well worth the small outlay.”

“
And once they’ve given the Immundus their hit, what? Then
they’re under their control?” The whole thing sounded seedy and
gross and so very, very wrong.

“
No. The Immortals come and go as they please. Once they know
someone’s mind…” He trailed off, probably feeling awkward that he
was reminding me of what happened with Elliott. I swallowed down
the lump in my throat, too loud not to have been audible. “But it’s
like Aldan said,” he added quickly. “Only the Immortal who entered
into that person’s mind can keep the connection open. And these
Immortals, the bad ones, they do keep it open, so they can skip in
whenever the urge takes them.”

I had an urge
of my own, but it was muddled. Confused. I couldn’t decide in that
moment whether I wanted him, to touch his pale, smooth skin, or
throttle him for what he’d done. I’d only just started to get over
what had happened. It didn’t matter that Aldan was a good guy and
would keep the door into my mind closed. I shoved both thoughts to
one side. It was impossible to think when I was trying to work out
which emotion was stronger.

Daniel
skillfully
changed the subject.
“It’s easy to tell when one of them is inside an Immundus, though.
Maybe you already know how?”

The halos. I
remembered the Immundus’ eyes that day at the fairground. How they
pulsed in a way that made me afraid. It had to be the silver halos.
“Their eyes?”

Daniel was
silent, but I could make out the imperceptibly small movement of
his nodding head. “Their eyes give them away every time.”

That age-old
line came into my head, and I found myself saying it out loud.
“Yes. The eyes are the windows to the soul.”

Daniel let out
a surprised, derisive laugh and cracked his knuckles. “When you see
that light in their eyes, it’s showing you that there is no soul.
The Reavers are in residence and those monsters forfeited theirs a
long time ago.”

“
And what about Aldan?” A wrinkle of discomfort marred the
air. Did Aldan have no soul? I found that hard to
believe.

There was no
response. Daniel was on his feet, facing the corridor back towards
the bedrooms with his hands clenched by his sides. I just knew his
jaw would be straining, and that look would have settled on his
face.

No. Don’t do
this. Please don’t go.

But how could
I say that to him? I found something much more stupid, much more
pathetic to say instead. “I know he does. I know it in my
heart.”

It sounded
ridiculous, like a six-year-old declaring that they knew Santa was
definitely real. But some of the tension I could sense in Daniel
seemed to drop from the strained profile of his shoulders as he
hovered by the bookcase.

It didn’t
change anything, though. I’d still lost him. He didn’t breathe
another word as he padded barefoot past where I sat, collapsing
under the weight of my own stupidity on the sofa. It was amazing
how I managed to say the most idiotic things sometimes.

Daniel was so
protective of Aldan. Of course he would be upset about someone
pointing out he was potentially soulless, that his mentor was a
killer, or had been once upon a time, just like my father and all
the others. As Daniel left the room, the darkness that I’d been
trying to avoid seemed to spill in and take his place, as though he
was the only source of light available to me. And with his
departure, he took that light with him, leaving me alone with the
blackness working at the edges, trying to get in. All that he left
behind was a small, twisted length of paper.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Time Travel

Agatha was
singing when I entered the hangar in the morning. Her hair was
coiled on the top of her head in a style that wouldn’t have looked
out of place in Victorian England. She gasped when she saw me, limp
on the sofa, lacking the energy to even pull my limbs into some
sort of order.

“
Farley! Did you sleep at all last night?”

“
Not really,” I groaned, lolling my head to look up at Agatha
standing behind the sofa. “I think I’m suffering from sleep
deprivation. What’s up with the hair?”

The tiny woman
gave me a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“
Slightly outdated, don’t you think?” I yawned, stretching my
body so that my loose t-shirt hitched up, exposing a little of my
stomach. Agatha jabbed the bare skin with her index
finger.

“
It may look outdated to
you
, but women have worn their hair
up like this for most of my lifetime. It’s only recently that
this—” she tugged gently on the bird’s nest that was my own hair,
“—has become acceptable.”

“
Okay, fair point. Was it terrible being a woman back in those
days? Having men expect you to be weak and retiring, doing what
you’re told all the time?” I’d read just enough Jane Austin to know
how women behaved back in the day, flouncing around in their long
dresses, writing boring letters to equally boring men.

“
No,” Agatha said, taking on a wistful tone. “It was great.
Really. It wasn’t as bad for me, I suppose, because men and women
from the Quarters have always been treated as equals. I could do
whatever I wanted, and those were the days of discovery. Everything
was new. Everything was an adventure. These days, it feels like
everything important has already been discovered.”

“
Hmm. When you put it like that... Do you miss it?”

“
Sometimes. If I do, I just go visit Aldan. He can create
whatever backdrop he likes as a meeting point when you go and see
him. Occasionally I ask him to remember what he saw of Scotland,
and it’s almost as though I’ve gone back. Like being a child
again.”

I sat bolt
upright, slightly dizzy. “He can do that?”

“
Sure can.” Agatha nodded, her hair gleaming under the strip
lights. “He doesn’t even need to be with you. He can host a time in
his mind and leave you there, immersed in it, while he gets on with
whatever he’s doing.”

“
And you can talk to people? You can have conversations with
them?”

Agatha
frowned. “You can interact with the people but that has its
limitations. They’re just shadows, so you can’t really have proper
conversations with them or anything. They do react to you
sometimes.”

“
Sounds like the most advanced computer game ever,” I said,
wondering what it would be like to step back in time like that. The
shine in Agatha’s eyes said it was amazing.

“
You could try it if you like,” she said.

“
You think Aldan would let me?”

“
Sure he would. He wanted to speak to you this morning,
anyway. I was discussing your hallucinations with him and he was
intrigued. He wanted to ask if he could monitor you for a little
while to see if he could pick up on anything that might make them
special. This way you could have a wander around for a while, and
he would be free to do that.”

Without
hesitating, I stood up, already making my way towards the door to
get showered. “I’m totally in,” I told Agatha as I hurried away.
“He can pick my brain apart all he wants if it means he might
figure out what’s wrong with me. Exploring another time sounds like
a sweet bonus.”

“
There’s just one catch,” Agatha called after me. I already
knew what it was. My enthusiasm suddenly fell flat. I swept my hair
back out of my face and spun back to face Agatha.

“
Is that really necessary?”

“’
Fraid so. Without him, you’ll be completely lost.”

“
Ugh
.”

******

Music was
emanating from Aldan’s room as I approached, and I found myself
standing stock-still, shocked by the beauty of it. A lilting
Spanish melody, painfully sweet and heartbreaking, drifted through
the crack in the door. I racked my brain, trying to figure out
where I had heard it before. That’s right—Agatha was always humming
this melody, although the guitar version was much more complex. It
would have been difficult for anyone but a seriously accomplished
musician to play.

Daniel looked
exactly that as I inched the door back, stealing silently into the
room. His head was bent forward, his eyes closed. His fingers flew
with such dexterity up and down the neck of the guitar that the
movement was barely visible. The music was gentle and soft in
places, and something haunted worked its way onto his face as he
lifted his head, eyes closed, lost in the music. He looked so young
right then, or at least as young as me. Everything was stripped
back: his anger, his sarcastic, vitriolic retorts, that cold
harshness to him. The only thing that remained was a strange look
of sadness.

His eyes flew
open and I drew in a sharp breath, suddenly realizing he might not
want an audience. His eyelashes were stark black ink against the
paleness of his skin, far too delicate for a boy’s. They fluttered
as he blinked at me.

I cleared my
throat and looked down at my hands. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to
intrude.”

“
It’s okay,” he said in a hushed voice. “I wasn’t doing a very
good job, anyway.”

I struggled to
keep the disbelief from my face. “I think your idea of a poor job
is most people’s idea of excellence.”

He looked down
at the guitar in his hands and then flashed me a scornful look. “I
guess that depends on your standards.”

A hot flush welled up in my belly, working its way to my
cheeks. What was that supposed to mean? Did he always have to shoot
me down? And was that some inference about me in particular? Was he
saying that I was below
his
standards? After last night’s conversation, I’d
thought he might ease off a little, but it appeared I’d been
foolish to hope for that.

“
Never mind, Daniel.” It was exhausting trying to work out
what he ever meant or thought. “Agatha said she’d asked you if you
would come with me to—” I paused. I truthfully hadn’t thought that
far ahead. Where were we actually going?

Daniel’s gaze
raked me up and down, picking over the tank top and tight black
jeans I wore, coupled with my leather boots. My cheeks flushed
uncomfortably.

“
Dressed like that, I’d say we were headed to some sort of
rock club.”

“
Ha, ha,” I replied as dryly as possible. “Do you think
anyone’s ever been strangled to death with a guitar strap
before?”

“
Absolutely. There’s no such thing as original thought
anymore.” The corners of Daniel’s mouth twitched. “Not that that
matters. There are plenty of completely unoriginal yet extremely
fun things two consenting adults can do with a guitar strap that
don’t involve death. Maybe just a little light chaffing. You should
definitely consider those before homicide.”

I just looked
at him, wondering if I had hit a new all-time record on the
embarrassment front. He seemed to be waiting for me to react in
some way. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“
Do I have to dress according to the time I’m going
to?”

Daniel grinned
and hoisted his guitar strap over his head. “Yep. Aldan’s taking us
back to Manchuria. It was the custom of the Manchurian people to
wear nothing but their underwear. You should probably strip off now
if you want to fit in.”

I shot him a
filthy look to hide the flush in my cheeks. I could handle Daniel
being a douche bag, but this new flirtatious side to him was
confusing and frankly scary.

“
Sorry. The clothes are staying on,” I told him, trying to
make myself sound unflustered.

“
A shame.”