B00JX4CVBU EBOK (19 page)

 ‘So,’ said Skye, ‘ice sphere ride into hell, rescue the most important man in the world, and escape before we melt or get eaten by a million Scathers.’ 

Brooke smiled widely. ‘Easy peasy. What are we waiting for?’

*

Turner knew he wasn’t far from death. He gained a small piece of satisfaction from the fact that as soon as he died, the Vordene monster would be attacked and killed in turn. He had even tried slipping into unconsciousness, but it now eluded him. He jounced roughly under the arms of the creature for hours, the stony ground rocky and broken with lava-filled crevices. He hung limply, his body a worn husk, his mind as desolate as the landscape they travelled through.

A painful, fitful sleep had claimed him, full of burning night terrors. The sound of the monster shouting woke him. 

‘We’re here! Yes!’ 

She threw Turner away like an unwanted toy. He landed hard, his head struck stone, his broken arm twisted under his body, and his clothes ripped on the rocks as he skidded to a halt. 

His breath came in short wheezing bursts, but he no longer felt any pain. Or perhaps the agony had become so much a part of him it was just background noise now. 

They were at the base of the column, the central shaft of Grimshade power. Turner couldn’t lift his head. From where he lay he could see the column, as wide as a house, reaching into the sky, further than he could see. What he could see of the sky was black with circling Scathers. They still screeched but kept their distance. The slick, black column glistened and scurried with the movement of what, at first, Turner thought were billions of cockroaches. No, not cockroaches, he realised with cruel certainty. They were Scathers. Baby Scathers perhaps, or the souls of Scathers, he had no way of knowing.

Turner knew he wasn’t going to be able to kill the monster. He had no strength left; he couldn’t even move. He knew he would never see Ember again. He knew his blood-caked, broken body wouldn’t last much longer. His voice a croaked whisper, ‘I’m sorry, Em …’ He closed his one good eye.

‘Now!’ A screech from the creature and Turner’s eye snapped open. The monster woman placed four or five hands onto the column. The blackness seemed to ripple around its hands, coalesce around them, and then suck its arms into the churning column. Two or more of the monster’s heads let out a horrible cackle of victory. 

Turner was unprepared for what happened next. The area where the monster had touched blew out in a jet-black explosion, and like a million tiny saw blades, tore the Vordene monster apart. Its various heads screamed and gurgled as they flew out over Turner’s head. Its arms and legs following close behind. And then incredibly, the whole flying mess of bone, dark blood and body parts stopped in mid-air, hung for a second, and then recoiled back into the column, as if on a rubber band. Every piece of the dismembered monster—gone. The column rippled again and gave out a deep thrum.

Turner was panting hard. It was gone, the monster had been destroyed. He didn’t do it with his own hands but it was satisfying nonetheless.

Turner’s head swam in a fog, but something niggled. It took him a moment to realise that there was no sound; the screeching had stopped. And then, a rumble in the ground and the column began to shudder, until a thunderous explosion came from above. Turner turned his head painfully, just enough to see up the length of the shaft. His heart fell. A gigantic black hole had appeared in the organic sky directly above the column. The multitude of circling Scathers were flying into it, like a billion ants being sucked up into a giant vacuum cleaner.

So that’s how the world ends, huh? Turner had nothing left to give. He lowered his head to the ground, and for the last time he was sure, closed his eye. He wondered faintly if his True self would remember its journey with his human side. 

*

The three sisters were inside a large aqua-coloured ice sphere twice their height. Ember stood just in front of Skye and Brooke, who stood back to back, their hands raised, projecting their powers. 

Ember couldn’t see the True spirits through the thick opaque ice, but she knew they were there. ‘Right. We’re ready.’

The words had hardly left her mouth when she felt the familiar thump of travelling, and the horrible feeling of the Grimshade infused her being. 

And Turner! Turner was at her feet!

But oh God, the base of the ice sphere was already melting. The Grimshade heat battered the sphere. It had already disappeared around Turner, melting away into steam. She shouldn’t have hesitated! If they left now Turner would be left behind.

‘Ember!’ screamed Sky. Ember could see the stress on the faces of her sisters as they struggled to keep the ice intact. ‘It’s melting!’ Steam filled the girls’ ice bubble, along with the sounds of water sizzling, and the cracking of the ice under pressure. 

Turner already lay on bare rock and Ember’s feet were moments away from touching the red-hot stone. She stepped back as the burning stone crept closer. She bumped into Brooke who now stood beside her.

‘Be ready!’ yelled Brooke, and with her hands in front of her began to heal the ice where it had melted. ‘Step onto it, Ember!’

‘Hurry!’ came Skye’s frantic call.

Ember took a step forward. Turner still lay on exposed rock, but she could get closer now. More ice grew beneath her feet. Brooke, now on her knees grunted with the exertion.

‘Now! Go!’ said Brooke, her head down. Her arms trembled under the strain.

She couldn’t wait any longer, Ember dove on top of Turner, pain filling her mind as one hand and her knees touched the scorching ground.

She pressed herself onto Turner, and felt Brooke’s ice closing over her back. ‘Now! Leave! Go!’ she screamed to the unseen True.

Another thump. She knew they had left the Grimshade. Without looking up, she said to her sisters, ‘Let the ice fall. We’re back.’ 

The ice sphere cracked, fell to pieces around them and dissipated like an old bubble. They were in the well room at Castle Stenness. 

Skye slipped to her knees as Brooke, already on her knees, fell sideways with a grunt. 

Brooke’s voice cracked. ‘Is he alive?’

Ignoring the agony coming from her burnt hand and knees, Ember cradled Turner’s head in her lap. She could see his bloodied face and hair, his butchered arm where bone had broken through the flesh, the bruises and cuts, and his ripped and blood-stained clothes. He was a mess. But he breathed. He breathed. Tears ran down her cheeks. She gulped. ‘Yes. Just. Skye, go to the library, get Celeste and Chloe, tell them we have Turner and to come to the well. Now.’

Skye winced as she rose to her feet, but then sprinted from the room.

Ember placed her face against Turner’s. ‘Hang in there, Turner. Don’t leave us. Brooke, until Chloe gets here, help me with some healing. We need to keep him alive until we can all get to the Binding.’

Brooke, still breathing heavily, joined Ember and they both placed their hands on Turner’s chest. Heal, thought Ember, heal. At least don’t die.

A bang from up above, and then a wonderful sound: the noise of many feet descending the spiral staircase.

Ember’s tears ran onto Turner’s face. 

She placed one hand over Brooke’s and looked up at her sister. ‘Thank you.’

*

The sudden arrival of eleven women and one man in the middle of the field, literally out of thin air, scattered a flock of shelducks, making them hit the night sky in fright with a chorus of indignant quacks.

All five of the Wickerwell sisters had a hand on Turner, and they levitated the unconscious man to the middle of the ancient stone circle.

 Ember knew the Standing Stones of Stenness had been built over five thousand years ago by one of the early British High Vordenes. They stood on one end of a promontory which separated two lochs. Only four of the original twelve stones still existed. But for the two groups of Vordene women, the spirit forms of all the stones still stood, straight and tall, over a dozen feet high, glowing golden-yellow with power. 

A fierce wind blew, but Mother Torhild stood tall, with none of her frailness evident. She indicated the stone ring, and spoke loudly to the women. ‘We don’t have time for the procession from the Ring of Brodgar and across the promontory, so we’ll start the Binding at the Call of the Ring, and move directly into the Encircling.’ 

The five High Vordene sisters nodded and moved into position, spaced evenly just inside the twelve glowing pillars. Mother Torhild told the sisters to place Turner in the centre of the enclosure. As they lowered him onto one of the central stones, Ember noticed Turner’s ghostly white face. She left her hand on his chest a moment after her sisters had stepped back. 

Stay with us, Turner. Please.

Finally, she stepped back to join her sisters who had formed their own circle a dozen feet away from the central stones.

As soon as Ember stepped into place, the High Vordene began to chant. At first, similar to the chant in the hospital, but soon with a life of its own, three of the women chanting deep and strong, the other two sing in a higher pitch. Ember had the feeling the chant usually took a lot longer, but because of the situation, the women had sped it up. It was a powerful song, and the space between the stones soon became charged with an expectant air. 

Ardent, the High Vordene’s massive elk Ring, appeared, reared up on two legs, his white antlers stark fingers against the black sky, before he took off. Around and around he galloped in the space between the High Vordene women and the stones, gathering speed until once again he was a golden blur.

The Stones of Stenness glowed madly, and hummed with energy. Veins of blue erupted through the stones and throbbed in time as the Ring passed. A surreal light was cast on the assembled women, lending them long shimmering shadows that crossed each other, like the spokes of a wheel.

‘Now!’ shouted Mother Torhild from outside the stone ring.

The five High Vordene women raised their hands and chanted something in Gaelic, of which Ember knew none, but she could feel the power of the words. Ancient words, brimming with potency, they filled the air with glorious connections, similar to the Gathering in the True, but with a feeling of power so strong Ember wanted to rise from her skin and fly to the heavens.

A shaft of light burst forth from Turner. A fierce blue blaze which erupted into the night, a thousand feet high it seemed. Its radiance almost too bright to look at directly. 

‘Girls!’ yelled Mother Torhild, ‘Step in now, form the Encircling. Hold hands!’

The five Wickerwell sisters moved in towards Turner and the light. To join hands they actually had to step into the shaft of power. Unrestrained energy flowed into them. The sisters gasped, their eyes opened wide, and their hair blew upwards with the light. It took a moment for Ember to remember what they were meant to do. Celeste already had her hand out-stretched; Ember grabbed it.

They all joined hands, their circle made, which caused the blue shaft of light to shoot back into Turner. His body jerked. For a moment, nothing moved. And then small sparkling stars of gold enveloped him, where they multiplied and joined together, until in a flash, the girls and Turner were flooded with a bright gold light, streaked through with bolts of golden lightning. Ember felt like her atoms were being blasted away, leaving only her soul. She couldn’t move—her head was thrown back and all her muscles stiffened. It was much like the mini Binding she and Turner had experienced, but considerably more intense. The girls shook from all the power jolting through them. Through squinted eyes, Ember saw Turner rise from the central stone, a glowing True-like version of their Ellring, ablaze in a golden charge.

Ember felt every one of her sisters. She felt Turner. The individual element powers fused and became one. Fire mixed with air, combined with water and earth, washed through all of them as carried on spirit’s wings. If Ember lived only another day, or for a hundred years, she knew this moment, this exact moment, would be a memory branded onto her soul.

She wanted to scream with happiness. This! This was what a Binding felt like.

The lightning stopped with a loud whoosh. Ember and her sisters slumped forward, and a couple would have fallen if not for the support of the others. Ember’s eyes needed time to recover from the glare. The enclosure, although still lit by the glowing stones and the light of the moon, suddenly seemed as dark as the darkest forest.

Ember felt a hand on her shoulder. ‘Go to him,’ came the voice of Aunt Tyra behind her. Ember blinked rapidly. There on the central stone knelt Turner. He was healed! And oh, quite naked.

He looked around at the gathered women, a puzzled look on his face. ‘So does this mean we’re married now?’

Ember ran to him. He stood and opened his arms. They embraced. A moment later the other members of the Wickerwell Vordene joined them in a group hug.

‘Hey, who’s groping my bum?’ said Turner.

‘Sorry,’ said Skye.

*

Turner felt like superman. He felt like he could fly, lift mountains. He wasn’t just alive, he was
alive
. The Binding had not just restored him to full health, it had mixed him with the girls. He knew now he could call on any of their powers when needed. And part of the Binding had opened him fully to his True self, much more than at the Gathering. He really felt he could do anything.

Without telling anyone he stopped the wind. A couple of the women looked around at this.

Turner breathed in the fresh Orkney air. It was so good to be alive. He thought he had breathed his last in the Grimshade, but had instead awoken to a new world. A world of potency and power.

Ember helped Turner into a cloak lent by Aunt Erika. It wasn’t really his style, but it was better than being naked in front of eleven women. Hey, and it had a hood. But it was still a bit chilly out here beside the lochs. Turner smiled to himself and created a warm bubble over a mile wide.

‘All right. Who’s the culprit?’ said Aunt Tyra.

Ember was still fussing about with Turner’s cloak. She looked up at him, noticed his big grin, and wide-eyed, mouthed, ‘You?’ Turner raised his eyebrows in answer.