Betrayal (16 page)

“You can do it…” breathed Sarah.

I laughed recklessly. “I can do anything now. I’ve seen Agnes again. She’s in me now, always. We have both touched the fire. And I’m ready to use her Talisman.”

T
he birds were beginning to call to one another as Sarah and I rode to Uppercliffe Farm in the early morning light. We were going to collect the Talisman. There was a fresh, bracing wind, and tight new buds were just beginning to appear in the hedgerows. There was change in the air. Spring wasn’t so far away.

My heart was lighter than it had been for so long. For once, I indulged myself as we jogged along, allowing myself to think of what the future might hold when Sebastian was free. I imagined that he was riding next to me on his black horse, the wind blowing his dark hair and ruffling his shirt. I saw his mocking smile as he challenged me to gallop over the hills. I saw us tumbling breathless from our horses and lying close together on the rough grass,
sheltering each other from the wide world and all its harshness….

“Hey!” A voice cut across my daydreams. “Wait!”

We halted and looked around. Two other riders were coming nearer, and I recognized Cal and his sister, Rosie. I glanced over at Sarah. “They’re out early.”

“Well, so are we. It’s not a crime.”

Cal trotted up, and I could see that he was delighted by the unexpected encounter.

“Hey, Sarah. I didn’t think you would be up so early.”

“We wanted to see the dawn before school starts. We’re allowed to ride out and exercise the ponies as long as we’re back in time for breakfast.” Sarah smiled. “How are you, Cal?
Sar’shan?
You see, I’ve been practicing.”

“You’re doing well.” He smiled back. Sarah dismounted and went over to talk to Rosie, who was hanging back shyly. Cal looked pleased, then glanced at me. “I have a message for you.”

“What?” I asked, wondering if he could possibly have heard anything about Sebastian. My voice grew urgent. “What is it? Tell me!”

“My mother…she was watching you out of the window of the trailer. She said, ‘Tell that
gaje
girl with the hair like autumn leaves that she’s in danger.’”

“Tell your mother…tell her the
gaje
girl said thank you for the warning. But I have to go now. There’s something I need to do.” I turned to Sarah. “We can’t wait around here any longer. Good-bye, Rosie. I hope we see you again.”

The little girl looked at me, her gaze straight and direct and untamed. “Did you hear about last night?” she said abruptly. “They came again. They killed another fox.”

“That is so sick,” said Sarah. “Who on earth would do something like that? And why?”

“Everyone blames us,” Rosie answered. “Mother says we might have to leave soon.”

“But you can’t!” I said to Cal. “You said you had to stay, in case, you know…what you told us—in case Fairfax James is looking for you.”

“We have to take care of ourselves too,” growled Cal. “You don’t know what people do to Gypsies when they want them out. Burned trailers. Attacks in the night. We can’t risk anything happening to Rosie.”

“Let’s hope nothing does happen,” said Sarah calmly. “I’m sure the police won’t let—”

“The police?” he snapped. “What can they do to stop an attack in the night? You need to open your eyes to what life is really like for us, Gypsy girl. Come on, Rosie, let’s get out of here.”

They began to canter away, churning up the soft ground, but then Cal wheeled back in a wide circle. He pulled up where Sarah was standing, flushed and upset.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean that. It wasn’t fair. It’s just that I want to protect my family. I have to be the man now that my father has gone.”

“I understand that,” said Sarah.

Cal smiled at her, and the hunted look cleared from his face. “You understand a lot. Come and see Rosie again, if you can. You’ll be welcome.” Then he looked straight at me. “Didn’t you say you had something to do? Don’t wait any longer. Time isn’t on your side.”

He galloped off, and we didn’t need any further urging. We rode as swiftly as we could, followed only by the sound of birds calling to greet the dawn. It was getting lighter and we had to hurry. Soon the tumbled remains of Uppercliffe Farm came into view. We scrambled off our ponies’ backs and ran up to the door.

“Something feels different,” said Sarah, halting by the entrance of the abandoned house.

“So let’s get it as quickly as we can and get back to Helen.” I pushed past her to the corner of the room where we had buried the Talisman. Kneeling down, I began to scrape at the earth. Soon my hands touched the side of the
rusted tin box. I pulled it from the clinging soil and forced it open. A shower of dusty rose petals and a linen pouch fell out onto the earth. But there was nothing else. The box was empty. The Talisman was gone.

More than anything, I felt ashamed. I had made bad decisions; I had let everyone down. Why had I imagined that the Talisman would be safe at Uppercliffe? It could have been taken by anyone—Miss Raglan, Miss Scratton, or any of the other women who surrounded us and who were watching our every move. It could have been taken by hill walkers, poking about curiously in the ruins on the moors. It could have been found by kids, turning up a treasure like magpies, finders keepers.

I hated myself for being so stupid.

Helen and Sarah tried to soothe me and share the blame and dream up plans for getting the necklace back, but I felt curiously distant from them. Our sisterhood could not help me now. This was my failure, not theirs. I had betrayed the trust that Agnes had placed in me when she bequeathed the Talisman to me. I had betrayed Sebastian’s hopes, and my own. There was no way we could save Sebastian without the Talisman. There was no time left for second chances. It was too late, and it was my fault.
When this was all over Sarah and Helen would be sorry and grieve, but the agony was mine alone to bear—now, every day, the rest of my life. Forever.

That day seemed to pass by like an old film, slow and unreal, a blur of sound and images. People talked and moved around me like puppets. The hours slipped past. I went to the library and prepared some French exercises for the following day. I saw Harriet, looking tired and anxious, and helped her with her math assignment.
Oh, thank you, Evie; what would I do without you?
The puppets flickered and moved and spoke and I heard and responded, but all the time I was thinking,
I lost the Talisman, I lost the Talisman, it’s all my fault….

“We could go to the attic tonight,” Sarah said quietly after supper. “You know, look in the Book for any ideas. It might help.”

I shook my head. The Book and its mysteries could no longer help me. It was all over, all finished. This was the end of the story.

There was only one thing left for me to do. I had to see Sebastian, tell him that I had failed, and beg his forgiveness. And I had to do it alone.

FROM THE PRIVATE PAPERS OF
S
EBASTIAN
J
AMES
F
AIRFAX

I am alone.

On the brink of eternity.

This is my reward. My punishment.

Alone—alone in the everlasting night. Soon, the Unconquered will reach out to take me.

Leave me! Let me be! I beg—

No.

There is no one to hear.

There is no one to pity me.

I am nothing. Pain, fire, grief. They are nothing.

Demons in my head and heart.

Temptations.

My heart has died. Only the demons remain. My shadows. My brothers.

I am alone.

There was someone. A girl. I remember—

She is gone. I forget.

Her name, her face, her voice. All gone into the dark.

There are no choices left. No hope. No path ahead. I am broken.

When I am gone, my dearest, sing no sad songs for me….

My dearest.

My darling.

A girl with bright hair. Lost now forever.

Words are all that is left. Hope. Life. Joy. Just words. Only pain and fear are real.

Pain forever. Eternal. Unending.

Everything has faded.

This is how it ends. Alone in the dark—the end—at last—

T
his was how it had all started, slipping down the servants’ stairs at night to meet Sebastian in secret. It was right that it should end like this too. As I made my way slowly down the back steps, all the stolen hours with Sebastian rushed back to me: times of love and laughter and discovery. I heard his voice; I felt the spell of his blue eyes and the caress of his intense gaze.
You looked like a water nymph saying her prayers…. I want to know everything about you…. Please see me again…. I want this perfect moment together, just the two of us…. I never want to hurt you…. I love you, girl from the sea….

I sneaked along the musty passageway and out into the stable yard. I was not going to ride, as I couldn’t risk being heard or take the chance of tumbling off. Instead, I would
walk, and I was prepared with thick clothes and shoes, a map, and a flashlight. I had even hidden the silver dagger in my pocket, though I wasn’t sure what I would do with it. But it had once belonged to Sebastian, and it seemed to offer some kind of protection against any other wanderers in the night. So practical. So sensible.
Sane, sensible Evie.
I thought I had left her behind forever.

Hurrying out of the grounds, I kept in the shadows, trying to stop myself from breaking into an eager run. The sky was veiled by a drift of sluggish clouds.
I can last until the new moon
, Sebastian had told me. Tomorrow night the new moon would rise and Miss Raglan would take control of the coven and swoop down to attack me.
Let them come
, I thought. I no longer had what they wanted. I couldn’t give them the Talisman now.

But I didn’t want to waste a moment thinking about the coven. I wouldn’t let them be part of this night, when Sebastian and I said good-bye. As I strode across the rough tussocks of the sloping moor, the familiar paths glimmered in the starlight, wild and lonely and free. I should have been afraid, out on the moors, alone in the night, but I wasn’t. I was part of this place now. I no longer feared or hated these bleak hills where Agnes and Effie and Martha had once walked. Now, in some deep way, Wyldcliffe was
my home, and Sebastian was the end of my journey.

Suddenly, a high, inhuman scream tore across the air from the direction of the village, the desperate squeal of an animal in pain. I ducked down instinctively, my heart pounding. What had it been? A fox caught in a trap, or a baby rabbit snatched by an owl? Or something more sinister? A ritual killing: blood and fur and bone torn apart and scattered in the night?

Now I was afraid. I waited, crouching painfully for what seemed an eternity, but the only sound I could hear was the wind in the grass. The sky seemed endless above me, and as I waited the earth seemed to turn under my feet and the wind sang its song of endless yearning.

I couldn’t wait forever.

I had to go on.

There were eyes watching me in the dark, someone behind me, tracking me across the moors…. I began to run, stumbling on and on until my breath turned to knives in my lungs and my legs were shaking. On and on I raced, until I saw the stately trees that surrounded the hall. I had made it; I was there at last. I passed by the granite monument to Sebastian, half-buried in the hillside above his home. I didn’t stop to look. I didn’t want to read those words again:
In memory of a beloved son…God rest his soul.

I paused to take deep breaths of cold air and tried to calm down. I forced myself to look behind me. No, there was no one else there. I was alone, ready to face this final task. A low wall separated the grounds from the surrounding slopes. It was easy to scramble over it, then skirt around the lake to reach the back of the house, where the old kitchens and domestic offices had once been. Gritting my teeth, I picked up a stone and smashed a pane in one of the low windows, then forced the casement open and scrambled inside. I turned the flashlight on and groped forward, finding my way to the silent hallway. As I crept up the carpeted staircase, the dusty portraits stared down disapprovingly. I was a thief, an intruder, a stranger, but my heart belonged here. I stumbled farther in the dark and at last I reached the foot of the secret steps that led to Sebastian’s hiding place.

“Sebastian?” I called softly. “Sebastian, it’s me, Evie.”

The silence was as deep and cold as a well. I began to climb, shining the light ahead of me, until I reached the top. The tiny attic room was full of the same confusion of drapes and furniture and broken equipment, but the low couch was empty and the air was stale. I swept the beam of light over to the corner. Sebastian wasn’t there. A heap of papers lay on the desk. Snatching them up, I saw that
there were pages and pages of them, all addressed to me: beautiful, broken love letters, the diary of his torment. I scanned them eagerly.

I read them eagerly, greedily, then turned to the last page. The writing was badly formed and jagged, as though it had been painful for Sebastian even to hold the pen;

As my eyes devoured the words, my heart seemed to split in two.

I was too late, after all.