Dreams (Sarah Midnight Trilogy 1) (33 page)

“It’s Arnica. I used it a lot when I was hunting. As you can imagine.” He handed her the tub.

“Can you do it?” she asked, handing the tub back.

Harry felt the blood rise to his face.
No? Yes?

Yes
.

He looked into Sarah’s eyes, expecting to see an innuendo, a hidden message. Expecting to find out that she was flirting with him. But in her face he saw nothing but innocence.

How could that be
? She’s seventeen years old; she should know how this works. She should know what it means, to ask me to touch her like this!

Harry massaged the cream on her shoulder, then on her hip, breathing in her scent. She smelled of peaches, and her skin was soft as petals. Suddenly he felt terribly, terribly sad.

I can never have her,
he thought desolately.

Sarah looked at him with those clear green eyes, and smiled. She leaned closer to him, nestling into him with a sigh.

Harry froze.
Does she know how I’m feeling? What other seventeen-year-old girl would not read the signs?
He thought of Sarah’s girlfriends – that Alice, for example, or Siobhan – they would have read it in his eyes. Had it been them, this whole scene would have been completely different. It would have been about seduction.

But not with Sarah. With her, it was like trying to touch the moon.

Does she know?

“Cup of tea?” she asked softly, disentangling herself. “Oh, that’s better already,” she added, touching her hip.

She doesn’t
.

She’s like a little girl. Like part of her has stopped growing. She stopped at thirteen, the day her dreams began. Shock and fear nailed her there. It’s like that fairy tale, what was it?
Briar Rose.
The girl who fell asleep for a hundred years
.

He wanted to be the one who put his lips on her lips, who broke the spell and woke her up. He wanted to be the one who made sure nobody would ever frighten her again, that she’d never be left alone again. The one who made sure no evil spell would ever be cast on her, that she would not prick her finger on some deadly spinning wheel.

Sarah handed him his cup of tea, looking him straight in the eye. She could have never imagined, not in a million years, what he was thinking right at that moment – she was still Briar Rose, asleep among the thorny bushes and the roses, still waiting.

Lead me into the light

Let everyone know about our love

Grand Isle, Louisiana

The sound of the waves lapping on the shore was like oxygen to Niall, like the most familiar, oldest sound in his memory, second only to the beating of his mother’s heart. He needed to be near the water, he needed time to just sit and think about all that was happening. To try and make sense of the events that had taken him there, to a beach on the other side of the world, beside a warm sea in a warm night, far away from the freezing waters and cold wind of the Atlantic, and all he that knew.

Mike had been incredible. To be a man who was there by choice and not by destiny, he was selfless and brave and endlessly resourceful. So loyal to Sean and to all they were fighting for. To think of what could happen soon to all of them – the Secret Families, the Gamekeepers, and then to all humanity, old and young, all over the world – if the Time of Demons came again.

Niall’s grandfather used to tell him stories about the Time of Demons. He was the headmaster of the local school, a little white-washed cottage on the outskirts of Skerry, his home village. He was also a storyteller, a folklorist, and a musician, of course. He had the power of Song, a voice so potent that he could call storms, light a fire, change the colour of the leaves.

Patrick Flynn’s stories were frightening. Members of the Flynn family had been telling them for generations, handing them from father to son and from mother to daughter – stories of a time when Donegal, and Ireland, and the world didn’t belong to humans but to the Surari. Small tribes of human beings living a nomadic life full of danger and uncertainty, trying to survive the threat of the demons roaming the earth, owning the land. And then something happened. Special children were born to the human tribes – the ancestors of the Secret Families. They had powers that could tame the Surari, destroy them, or banish them to places that run parallel to this world, sealed away in space and time. Slowly the Surari grew weaker, and the humans grew stronger – until the earth belonged to humanity. The Time of Demons was over, and the Time of Humans began. The Secret Families watched the territory – they watched the openings between this world and theirs, destroying anything that managed to seep through.

When the destruction started, the Flynn family began falling ill. They grew weak, exhausted, unable to eat – Niall, his parents and his two little sisters, too young to even have Dreams yet. Some mysterious sickness was coming up from the land, slowly killing them. The people in Skerry and all around were suffering too – women were losing babies all around, children grew ill with blood diseases, and there was talk of the land being somehow poisoned, or the sea.

Something there was leaking death.

The Flynns sent their son away with Mike. They stayed, withering slowly, trying all they could to stop the sickness. Niall knew that his parents had chosen to die in the poisoned place – and he respected their choice. He would have gladly done the same. But he knew he had to go away, and survive and fight. And he’d do his duty.

He thought of Donegal, of how the land rolled sweetly, of how quickly the clouds would sweep the sky, of how perfectly silent and still the hills could be, so silent that you could hear the earth breathing.

This beautiful land he now found himself in, this place between the water and the sky, was full of soul – Louisiana, somewhere he never even thought he’d see. It was seeping into his blood, a watery, green, secret place where people were as proud of their traditions as his own people. And the music was amazing.

Still, it wasn’t home.

“Niall!”

Mike interrupted his thoughts. He was calling him from the shack, waving broadly with his arms. Something had happened. Probably Sean-related.

Niall was dying to meet Sean Hannay, and the heron, the mysterious Sarah Midnight.

“Sean.” Mike gestured at the phone sitting on the table, beside the computers.

Niall nodded. “How can I help?”

“Ever heard of the King of Shadows?”

The floor rose up to meet Niall, and the room danced around him as a buzzing sound filled his ears. He blinked over and over again.

Mike’s voice came from afar.

“Are you OK?”

“Yes. Yes. I’m fine. Sean, I’ve heard of the King of Shadows before, yes. I’ve heard of him in … stories.”

“Stories?”

“Stories that have been in my family for generations. As long as human memory goes.”

“So who is this King of Shadows?”

“Try and avoid saying his name, Sean.”

“Come on, Niall!” Mike laughed. Then he saw Niall’s grey face, and he stopped laughing.

“What do you know about him?”

“He’s a very, very powerful demon. The strongest of them all. He was driven back when the Time of Demons came to an end, but he was never truly defeated, just contained. Some say he rules the Underworld. Sometimes he’s called Báis.”

“What does it mean?”

“It’s Irish. It means Death.”

A pause.

“Where did you come across him?” asked Mike, grabbing the bottle of Bourbon. Niall saw that his hands were shaking.

“The heron had a vision.”

“Sean. I need to come and see you and the heron. Now.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“If that’s what’s after you, you need all the help you can get.”

“We need you alive, Niall. What else do you know?”

“Not much more. The stories say he brings death with a look of his eyes. That he hasn’t seen the light for thousands of years. That’s all I know.”

“I see.”

“This is really bad, Sean,” Mike said.

“I know. Not good at all.”

“The plan?”

“Keep going, I suppose.”

“I’ll try and get as much info as I can. I’ll send it to you ASAP.”

“Thank you, Mike.”

“Not at all, my friend.”

They heard a beep, and then silence.

“Not good at all,” repeated Niall, and his words sounded like a song of mourning.

Hold me as if

I were about to disappear

“Them again?”

“Yes.” Harry didn’t look up from his iPhone.

“Who
are
they?” Sarah wasn’t letting go.

“I told you, they don’t want people to know.”

“I’m not people. I’m family. And this makes me nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous. They’re on our side.”

Sarah sighed.

“I’ve got homework to do.”

“Right, I’ll leave you be.” Harry got up from the sofa.

“No, no. Stay. I mean, stay if you want to,” she amended. “I don’t mind.”

Harry stifled a smile.

“OK.”

“I’ll go get my books.”

Sarah ran upstairs, grabbed her books, notebooks and pencil case and was down in a minute. She was about to step into the living room when something made her stop.

Harry was standing in front of the fireplace, still as the night, a strange expression on his face.

“Don’t come in, Sarah.” His voice was grey.

“Harry. What’s wrong?” she whispered, her blood turning cold.

“Don’t come in. Stay out. I think it’s too late for me.”

Sarah’s head started spinning.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Look at my feet.”

Sarah looked down. The wooden floor was strewn with the lilac light of early evening, mixing with the light of the lamp on the coffee table and of the uplighter in the corner. All her radars started sending alarm signals to her brain, but she couldn’t figure out why. There was something wrong with what she was seeing. Something was there that shouldn’t have been there. Sarah swallowed.
What is it? What is it that doesn’t look right?

She looked again. The shadows.

The shadows were all wrong.

Harry had two shadows. And one of them was moving of its own accord.

All of a sudden, she knew. When they thought they had dissolved the demon-shadow, she had felt that something wasn’t right. She’d thought the puddle of blackwater had disappeared too quickly, but she hadn’t done anything about it. She hadn’t even told Harry. She had buried her head in the sand, pushed the thought to the back of her mind. How wrong she’d been. What a stupid, stupid thing to do.

“Run,” Harry begged her.

“I can’t leave you.”

“Whose life is more important, Sarah? Mine or yours? You need to save yourself. Please, Sarah, go.”

Sarah shook her head.

“If you die there’s nobody left. You’re the one with the powers. Please go. Please go.” Sarah had never seen him so frightened.

The demon-shadow looked around, as if to decide who to hit first. Then it turned towards Sarah. It had chosen. Harry understood at once.

“Sarah. Please, Sarah. Run.” He pleaded again, taking out his
sgian-dubh
, slowly, an inch at a time.

“I can’t leave you here. I can’t.” Sarah’s hands were shaking so hard that all her books fell to the floor.

The shadow took a step towards her.

“Sarah!” shouted Harry. “Sarah, go!”

Sarah took a step back.

“Come here. Come here. Come with me,” she whispered to the demon. It took another step forward, and Sarah took one backwards.

“Come with me.”

“What are you doing?” Harry shouted in frustration.

“Getting it away from you.” Sarah’s voice was cold, even, but there was an edge of terror to it.

Run, please run. One touch is all it takes, and you’ll be a shadow for all eternity …

Sarah took another step back. She didn’t dare to turn away from the demon. Her hands were cold. She flexed them. She curled them into a fist, then unfolded them again. Cold. Still cold.

Harry followed them out of the living room and into the hall. The shadow took another step in her direction, a quicker one, and Sarah gasped. She jerked back, and tripped over one of her books, falling backwards and landing heavily on the first step of the stairs.

“Here! I’m here! Take me!” Harry shouted again.

But the shadow ignored him. Another step, and another, its hands out to get Sarah. She was desperately trying to get back on her feet, but kept slipping on the paper strewn on the landing.

Harry cried out once more, furious, desperate.