The Vaga (25 page)

‘Come back inside, please.’ He tries to lead me back to the house.

I shake him off. ‘No. I’m not leaving this spot until they return.’

He sighs. ‘Can you just stop fighting me on everything?’

I turn on him, pissed off and in no mood for a battle of wills. ‘If you want to go inside then be my guest, don’t let the door hit you on the ass on your way in.’

He flinches, and I feel the pain my words have caused. This whole “being connected thing” isn’t so great.

I exhale loudly. ‘I’m sorry, this isn’t your fault. I’m just worried about them. I should be out there right now fighting this battle with them.’

He touches my arm tenderly. ‘I know you want to be out there, but that is what Erebus wants. He is trying to flush you out, it’s a tactic I’m all too familiar with.’

I fold my arms, my eyes focused on the unseen battle going on up ahead. ‘I know, but that doesn’t make it easier to stomach.’

A movement off to my right interrupts my thoughts.

‘Did you see that?’

His eyes wander over the area. ‘What is it?’

I wait for it to move again. It doesn’t take too long. I point to the dirt track that leads up to our house. ‘Next to the tree, off to the right.’ I keep my voice low, the night so still that it would carry too easily.

His body tenses. ‘Got it.’

It keeps in the shadows, flitting in and out of my line of site, easily mistaken for nothing if you weren’t looking for it.

‘Is it the same thing from this afternoon?’ I ask.

‘Not sure. It could be. Although something about it unsettles me.’

I look up at him, the porch light casting an eerie glow around his head. ‘Why do you say that?’

He frowns. ‘Just a hunch.’

We watch for a few more minutes but it doesn’t move from the tree. It’s as if it’s wanting us to see it.

Julian swings around, his intense gaze scanning the front yard and around the house. ‘It’s probing the property.’

A rising current of unease swirls around me. ‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s a military tactic—create a diversion so you can probe out the remaining area. It’s a way to find weak spots in the perimeter, and in the enemy.’

We continue to watch it, keeping our eyes on its movements. It sure looks like it could be the same thing from this afternoon.

‘Do you know what it is?’

‘No. Although…’

‘What?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong but it looks like it could be a
nympha silvestris
.’

‘A what?’

He shakes his head. ‘Sorry, I forgot you don’t know Latin. It’s a Sylph—a mythological spirit of the air.’

I cross my arms in annoyance. ‘Fere libenter homines id quod volunt credunt,’ I reply, letting my words speak for themselves instead of punching him in his condescending arm.

Julian’s eyes widen before he laughs. ‘Men readily believe what they want to believe,’ he translates. ‘Touché, Elena.’ He smiles, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was so goddamn irresistible I’d probably tell him to go jump off a bridge.

I clear my throat. ‘Anyway, this Sylph, does it belong in the underworld?’

‘Not necessarily. Legends say that Sylphs usually wander the forests and glens of Scotland. Sort of like fairies but bigger.’

‘I don’t see any shiny wings.’

‘No, neither do I. Although it is a bit hard to see in this light.’

I look up at the moon as he says that, wrapping my arms around myself at the eerie orange glow that surrounds it.

‘Aren’t fairies usually good?’ I ask. ‘I mean, why would it be helping Erebus?’

‘You’re asking questions I don’t have the answer to. I wouldn’t underestimate anything Erebus can do at this point. But it does seem as though he can control the mythical creatures to some extent. Look at the Crocotta and the Calydonian.’

‘Yeah, can you stop saying “mythical”. Mythical means that they don’t exist, or were
thought
to exist but there was no proof.’ I thrust my hand out towards the flitting Sylph. ‘Does that look
mythical
to you?’

‘Point taken.’

The Sylph, if in fact it is a Sylph, keeps near the base of the trees. My eyes feel a little tired trying to keep watch on it, and before long Julian and I have taken up position on the porch steps. I try to project my magic out to Magi but the Crocotta is obviously blocking it again. I hope they’re okay.

‘Doesn’t all this freak you out?’ I ask, trying to take my mind off the fact that my family are out there potentially fighting a vicious beast as we speak. I know they can look after themselves, but I’d feel better if I was with them.

My only consolation is that the night air is devoid of sound. If they were fighting the Crocotta I’d be able to hear it clearly enough. Other than the ear piercing screeches we heard earlier, there hasn’t been any sound that might make me think they were in danger.

He turns his face towards me. ‘Not really. I’ve pretty much grown up around the supernatural world. I’m not sure there is much I haven’t seen.’

From anyone else it would sound arrogant, but I know Julian doesn’t mean it like that. From the little I gathered from his memories I believe him when he says he’s seen a lot.

‘How about you? How are you holding up?’

I shrug. ‘Not sure I am. All of this seems beyond any sort of understanding, and yet it doesn’t freak me out as much as it should. Maybe I’ve become accustomed to the weird and unexplainable over the years. Or maybe I’m just a little nuts and can accept it all for what is.’

‘“I can believe anything, provided that it is quite incredible.”’

My eyebrows shoot up. ‘You’re quoting me Oscar Wilde?’

The corner of his lip curls upwards. ‘Well you annihilated me with the Latin, so I thought it was worth a try.’

I smile.

‘And you’re not nuts by the way. Coping skills vary. Some people can handle a great deal in life and others…well, they crumble at the smallest thing. You have more strength than you even realise. You wouldn’t still be here if you didn’t.’

Julian clasps his fingers through mine, and for a moment I could forget that we were ever enemies. I rest my head against his shoulder, imagining a future that doesn’t involve life-threatening scenarios or apocalyptic prophecies. I imagine a life that is safe and full of laughter, where I can actually sleep at night without one eye open, or where venturing out of the house isn’t met with some imminent threat.

I scoff silently as I realise I’m daydreaming. My life will never be like that, and I’m kidding myself if I think otherwise.

I sense a collective rush of energy heading towards us and stand up, releasing Julian’s hand just as Uncle Jo, Magi, and Sam come into view.

Relief escapes me as I run towards them, and as I get closer the distinct smell of blood reaches me, stopping me in my tracks.

I scan their auras and discover that they are all unharmed.

But if they’re all fine, then whose blood…?

Oh no
!
Please, no
.

My hands cover my mouth in shock as I realise whose blood it is.

Uncle Jo pulls me into his chest. ‘I’m so sorry, Ellie. We didn’t get there in time.’

My strength that I was holding onto only a moment ago is replaced by a numb void, and all I can feel is the cool breeze against my cheeks.

I feel hands on me, lifting me back towards the house, but all that runs through my mind are three words that will never, ever leave me.

Blake is dead
.

An hour later I manage to breathe again
.

‘Here, drink this,’ Sam says, bringing a lukewarm cup of herbal tea towards my mouth.

‘What is it?’ I mumble.

‘Just drink it. It’ll help.’

I take a sip and the seaweed taste of Wild Lettuce overpowers the underlying honey aroma.

‘Ugh, that’s gross.’

‘Yeah. It might taste awful, but it’ll do the job. Have some more.’

I hold my nose and swallow the rest, gagging on the smell.

Magi is pacing back and forth in front of the lounge, her distress clear.

‘We need to come up with a plan. Somewhere
away
from here. We can’t let others be harmed,’ Julian mutters to Uncle Jo.

I flick my eyes towards them, noticing that they are making a conscious effort to keep their voices low. I pretend to ignore them, my heart still breaking at the knowledge that while I was sitting here a few hours earlier, all cozy and safe, Blake was being murdered.

Vengeance has never been something I’ve subscribed to in the past, but right now, as I picture Blake’s smile, I vow to rip off the Crocotta’s head next time I see it.

Blake was innocent, he didn’t have to die. He
shouldn’t
have died.

But he did, and it’s all because of me.

‘How are you doing?’ Sam asks.

‘I feel super.’

He passes me a concerned look. ‘I know you feel like crap right now, Ellie, but you need to know that he didn’t feel any pain. When we got there he was already dead. It was a single swipe to the jugular. It would have been over before he hit the ground.’

Tears sting my eyes. ‘Yeah, you’re right, Sam, that makes me feel
so
much better.’

‘It may seem harsh now, but in our culture a swift death is better for the soul. It allows them to pass on without leftover baggage.’

His voice holds no malice, and I know he’s being sincere, but it doesn’t change the way I feel. How could it? Blake is dead.
Dead
! And if it wasn’t for me he would still be alive.

‘Leftover baggage? What about
my
leftover baggage? Blake was an innocent man who was killed tonight. Does that mean nothing? He was killed because of
me
. So yeah, it’s crap, you’re right. And no, it doesn’t make me feel any better that he didn’t suffer, not one little bit. His death is on my hands and I’ll never be able to wash myself clean of that. Never!’

My voice rises, causing the others to stare at me with unwanted pity.

Tonight’s events have changed everything.

After Magi and the others left in pursuit of the Crocotta they came across Blake’s body—lifeless and broken. He was dead before they could even get to him, and there was nothing they could do. Uncle Jo called campus security anonymously before they fled the scene. The Crocotta was nowhere to be found, but they kept an eye out anyway as they waited amidst the dark recesses of the park for security to arrive.

Uncle Jo says that it looked like it was all a set-up to draw me out, using Blake as the bait. I’m not so sure now. I think it was Erebus’ way of issuing a warning. A warning to say
I will get you one way or another
,
and it
’
s up to you as to how many people will die in the process
.

After getting me back inside, it wasn’t long before the pain and sorrow of Blake’s murder brought Isis’ essence out. The bitter hatred and injustice that I felt in my heart manifested her power in such a way that I was lost in it. If it wasn’t for Julian calming her….again, the house would be a pile of rubble right now. I silenced her after that, casting the spell that puts her to sleep.

‘Death is not the end, Ellie. Blake lives on in your heart,’ Sam says before taking the cup and making his way towards the kitchen.

I watch him go, wondering how many people he’s seen die. The fact that I didn’t see Blake’s body is little consolation when the image I’ve conjured up of him will stay with me forever.

Magi jumps up next to me, resting her large head on my leg. A tear falls down my face and drops right on to her nose. She whimpers, licking my hand and sending me an image of the farm.

‘You said we had to get away from here,’ I say, keeping my eyes down.

‘We thought it would be safer, yes,’ Uncle Jo replies.

I allow my fingers to sweep through Magi’s soft fur, her visions bringing me clarity. ‘I will not allow Blake’s death to be in vain.’ I raise my face, taking in their intense stares. ‘You said earlier that we should take the fight to them?’

They exchange a look and Uncle Jo moves away from the wall. ‘What are you getting at?’

‘We need to go somewhere where we have the advantage, where we are far enough away from people. Somewhere that is familiar to us, but not to them. They’ve had time to scope out this area, they know the layout, and they know my triggers. If we stay here more people will be hurt.’

His frown deepens. ‘Are you talking about the farm?’

I look him in the eye. ‘It’s the one place we know by heart.’

‘I think she’s right,’ Julian agrees.

Sam walks back into the lounge room, wiping his hands on a tea towel. ‘So we leave in the morning then?’

A silent acknowledgement sweeps through the room.

I am moving through a passageway. The light around me is dim and murky. My body feels weightless, diaphanous, as if I don’t exist at all. I am floating on the air around me as I continue on the unknown path, unsure of where I am headed. The passageway suddenly becomes clearer, and as it spans out before me, I can make out its features.

Dark, damp, rock faces surround me on all sides, ancient vines clawing at its walls and ceiling. Black, iron doors are fitted into the walls, and as I look down the expansive tunnel one word comes to mind.
Dungeon
.