The Midnight Gate (36 page)

The ninth, Skatha, was in her pocket.

 

25

The Day of Crows

BELLADONNA WOKE UP
slowly. She was back in her room in Shady Gardens, lying on the bed, her head pounding. She got up and tried the door, which was locked, of course. She went back to the bed and sat listening as the clock on a nearby church struck every hour and every quarter hour. It was half past two. Only half an hour to go.

She took the Ninth Noble out of her pocket. She had to hide it. She couldn't believe they hadn't found it already, although there wasn't much she or they could do with just one. Still … she took off her shoe, dropped the coin into it, and put it back on again, then she went to the window and looked down. Mr. Proctor was in the center of Shady Gardens, setting up a little table. It was very dark.

She sat back on the bed and tried to think positively. Miss Parker had said that she would send someone. It would be alright. The someone would arrive and defeat the Proctors and then she would go home.

She was still trying to convince herself when there was a loud noise outside and a sudden flash. She ran to the window again, but there was nothing to see—just Mr. Proctor and his folding table and a faint smell of fireworks.

She went back to the bed and racked her brains. Fireworks. There hadn't been any fireworks in her dream.…

At two forty-five she heard the lock on the bedroom door click and Mrs. Proctor stepped inside.

“It's time,” she said. “Come on.”

Belladonna got up and followed her down the stairs.

“Are you a Kere?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“So that's how you can make people think they remember things? Like Mrs. Lazenby and the policemen?”

“Humans are laughably weak,” said Mrs. Proctor.

“You're going to call the Empress.”

“No, you are.”

“And then … can I go?” She had a feeling her cause was lost, but a flicker of hope remained.

“No, my dear,” laughed Mrs. Proctor. “The Dark Spaces cannot give up one of its own. There must be balance. A life for a life. It will give us the Empress but will take another in return. I doubt you'll last long; the legends say it is a hard place.”

Belladonna stared at her. This couldn't be happening. There had to be something she could do. She was the Spellbinder. It was supposed to mean something. She was supposed to be special. But there was nothing. No Words came, just desolation and the faintest of hopes that Mrs. Parker's “someone” would arrive in time.

Mrs. Proctor held the front door open and followed Belladonna down the concrete steps to the central garden.

“Ready?”

Mr. Proctor nodded. Mrs. Proctor turned to Belladonna.

“Raise your hands.”

Belladonna looked around, searching the shadows for any sign that someone was waiting for their chance to strike and save her. Mr. Proctor grinned.

“Expecting help?”

Belladonna looked at him sharply. He stepped aside and revealed a pile of mangled black feathers.

“It'll take more than a few Night Ravens to stop us,” he cackled. “The centuries have dulled the skills of the Queen of the Dead, but we have been waiting and honing ours. We are sharp as damascene swords and this time the Empress will rise. When the—”

“That's enough,” snapped Mrs. Proctor. “Raise your hands, Spellbinder.”

Belladonna did as she was told. All hope was gone. There was nothing she could do.

Mrs. Proctor leaned over her and went through her pockets. She smirked at the packets of Parma Violets and put them on the table. Mr. Proctor led Belladonna to a spot near the center of the gardens and turned her until she was facing the moon. She looked up; it wasn't as bright as the blue moon in the Land of the Dead, but it was full and shining, though partially obscured by clouds.

“Wait!”

Mrs. Proctor scuttled over to them.

“Shoes.”

Belladonna's heart sank. Mrs. Proctor took her right shoe, shook it, and put it back. Then she took the left shoe and smiled at the rattle. She tipped it up and the coin dropped into her hand.

“Well, well,” said Mr. Proctor. “I always wondered what those things looked like.”

Belladonna's mind was racing. She knew she couldn't save the world, that these were almost certainly her last moments, but she wasn't going to let them have that coin. That, at least, she could do.

She spun around as they were admiring the noble and struck it from Mrs. Proctor's hand. Mr. Proctor grunted and hit her hard. She fell to the ground, gasping, but it was too late—the glittering coin twirled above their heads, fell to the ground, and was gone.

“Where is it?” screamed Mrs. Proctor.

“There! It landed right there!”

“I can't see it!”

They turned on Belladonna.

“What have you done? Where is it?”

“You can't have it,” muttered Belladonna.

“What?” Mr. Proctor grabbed her and hoisted her off the ground. “What have you done to it? Bring it back!”

“I can't,” said Belladonna, smiling. “It can only be seen by the Dead. The Living can only see them when they touch our skin.”

“Only be seen by the Dead?”

“By someone with a true heart. I'll bet you don't know a single person like that.”

Mr. Proctor dropped her to the ground in disgust, stalked back to the table, and picked something up. Belladonna slipped her shoes back on and stood up as he returned and placed it around her neck.

It was an amulet. A triangular amulet with a dark stone at its center.

“It's a Nomial!” whispered Belladonna.

“Shut up,” said Mr. Proctor.

She reached up and touched it, but Mr. Proctor slapped her hand away.

“Begin!” intoned Mrs. Proctor, her human disguise falling away like oil until she stood in her true form: a sleek, black-eyed, ebony-winged Kere.

“Begin!” said Mr. Proctor, as his form too fell away, revealing what at first seemed to be another man, but as he turned toward the center of the circle, Belladonna could see that he was yet another creature from mankind's collective nightmares.

He was tall and thin, thin enough for his bones to be seen stretching against their dark red envelope. His legs were mere spikes that dug into the ground like spear points, and his hands were bony claws. But it was his face that struck terror into her heart.

He didn't have one.

It was just an oval, with no features whatsoever, dark red and smooth, and framed by greasy locks of long brown hair.

“What … what are you?” was all she managed to say.

“I am an Allu,” he said, though Belladonna had no idea how he was able to speak. “Like the Kere, we wait for death. We have waited since the sons of Marduk ruled the Mesopotamian plains. Waited for the Darkness to take its rightful dominion. Waited for this night.”

As he spoke, Belladonna became aware of the Shadow People. They were moving closer and were much more solid than they had ever been before. She could see them clearly as they crossed the open space of the gardens and formed a huge circle around Belladonna and the demon creatures.

The Kere and the Allu raised their hands, as if in supplication, and the Shadow People began to move. Around and around, always at the same speed and without a sound.

At first, Belladonna just watched, fascinated, but slowly she became aware of a low rumbling, as if a heavy truck were driving by. She looked at the Shadow People. Were they causing it? They never changed their pace, never wavered, just walked around and around.

Gradually, almost imperceptibly, the rumbling became louder, and soon Belladonna could see the dirt at her feet dancing with the vibration. And still the Shadow People walked.

“Make them rise, Spellbinder! Make them rise!”

Belladonna was about to refuse when the central stone in the Nomial around her neck began to glow. It was becoming hot too; she could feel it through her clothes. But it wasn't the comforting warmth of a winter fire or the life-giving heat of the sun—it was the stifling heat of fever, like a disease coursing through her veins. She tried to ignore it, to concentrate on what was happening, but she felt sick. Hot and sick. Her ears were ringing and she began to shiver. And then, suddenly, she had the sensation of something crawling on her skin. No, not on her.
In her
. There was someone inside her head, shoving her aside, and she no longer had the strength to resist.

Then the Words came. The Words from her dream.

“Sag-en-tar na szi.”

Guardians of stone, arise.

“Sag-en-tar na szi.”

She kept repeating them, over and over, until their meaning seemed gone and the syllables were just sounds rolling around the circle, joining with the steps of the Shadow People and disappearing into the dark. Then, suddenly, directly opposite where she was standing, two stones suddenly broke through the earth and shot up, framing the moon between them. They were each about eight feet high and roughly carved.

Belladonna gasped and stepped backward, but the Allu moved her back into position facing the two stones. As he did so, other stones broke the surface until she was standing in a circle of nine mighty megaliths.

And still the Shadow People walked. Then, slowly, some of their number separated themselves from the ring and stood on either side of the two central stones.

Belladonna knew this was the end. She wanted to turn and run, but the someone else inside her mind was speaking different Words now. She could hear herself speaking them unhesitatingly in a voice that was not quite her own.

It was only with a supreme effort that she was able to focus, to gather enough energy to look out through her own eyes and see what was happening.

The clouds had cleared from the sky, and the moon seemed to sit on top of the two largest megaliths, closing the space between them. She could see the swing set through the gap, and then she couldn't. There was just blackness.

And there was something else. Something between the steadily moving Shadow People and the mighty stone circle. A small figure with dishwater blond hair, running from stone to stone.

The creature within her hadn't noticed, though. It just kept talking, kept saying the Words, and slowly, as she watched, the two lines of Shadow People on either side of the megaliths came together. They seemed to melt, like chocolate on a sunny day, into one formless mass. But the mass was gaining a shape and Belladonna knew what it was.

It was Margaret de Morville, the last Spellbinder and Empress of the Dark Spaces.

“Belladonna!”

The voice whispering into her ear was familiar.

“Belladonna! Can you hear me? It's Steve! Where's the Ninth Noble?”

Belladonna's heart leapt; she forced herself forward, pushing the other thing aside.

“Over there…” Her voice sounded husky, as if she hadn't spoken for weeks. “I threw it … I can't see … They can't see it either … Elsie…”

She glanced across the circle, but the Kere and the Allu were lost in adulation of their returning Empress.

“It's alright. She's here. Belladonna, you have to say the names. The names of the stones. When I tell you. Do you understand?”

“Yes…” And then the fever rose again and the thing inside her head shoved her aside. Her head spun as the unfamiliar Words echoed across the ancient circle once more.

She watched as Steve crept over to the place where the coin had fallen and spread the scrap of carpet from the school. Everything seemed slow, as if she were watching a film that was running at the wrong speed. Elsie materialized on the carpet and quickly found the coin, picked it up, and handed it to Steve, who ran to the last stone and placed it on a carved ledge.

“Now!”

The thing inside her heard the voice but didn't recognize it. But it was afraid.

It was afraid.

Belladonna felt its fear and in that moment knew that it could be defeated. She called on every ounce of strength she had ever had: the strength that had seen her through the worst times in her life; the strength she had needed when her parents had left her alone forever; the strength she had called upon to fight Dr. Ashe; and the strength she had used every day at school when she had been taunted and teased just because she was different.

The names of the stones,
she thought,
I must say them!

The thing in her head seemed surprised, but Belladonna had no time to think about it. She had to speak.

“Aerona!” she blurted.

The thing fought back. Belladonna fell to her knees.

“Aerona!” she yelled, and no sooner was the name out of her mouth than one of the stones shot back into the earth, leaving a small gold coin spinning in the air where it had been.

“Morwenna! Gwerfyl!”

Two more stones vanished from the circle and two more coins spun, sparkling in the night.

“No!” screamed the Kere, running toward Belladonna with her bloodred hair flying and her teeth bared.

Belladonna looked up, unable to move away, waiting for the impact.

“Oh, no, you don't!”

Steve jumped in front of Belladonna, a gleaming sword in his hand. The Kere laughed derisively, then leapt back in surprise as Steve wielded the mighty weapon as if he'd been training for this moment all his life.

“P-Paderau!” yelled Belladonna, scrambling to her feet. “Caniad!”

“Get back, little girl,” hissed the Allu, “and let my mistress in!”

He drew back his hand and hit her across the face again. Belladonna fell to the ground, stunned, and in a moment the thing was back and she could hear herself saying the Words once more.

And once more the ground rumbled and two of the stones rejoined their sisters.

“Belladonna!” yelled Steve. “Don't give up!”

She struggled to regain control of her own mind, and as she did so, she saw the Allu creeping up behind Steve.