Eleanor (46 page)

“Eleanor, Amelia is not going to keep shielding us forever – we need to find out who’s trying to kill us before our protection fails,” Freddie said.

“You mean before Amelia dies!” Eleanor snapped, pulling away from his hands.

“Eleanor, please don’t make me do this by myself,” Freddie said, looking hurt.

Eleanor felt her anger fade away, knowing that Freddie needed her. Moving to Horse, she pulled her sword from her blanket roll and strapped it to her waist, watching Freddie do the same. She glanced briefly at Amelia; Conlan was talking softly to her, comforting her, tenderly stroking her hair and bending his head over her to keep the rain from her face. Will was still knelt to the side, watching them. It was hard to tell in the rain, but Eleanor suspected he was crying. The arrows continued to crash against Amelia’s shield, and the frequency made Eleanor think they were dealing with more than one archer. Moving carefully they discovered that Amelia had only erected a shield in a horseshoe shape around them, so using the trees and shrubs for cover they moved towards the river, creeping silently downstream. Freddie reached for Eleanor’s hand, gripping it tightly. They had not travelled far before they heard voices. Nodding grimly, Freddie headed towards the sound, pulling Eleanor after him. Moving closer, Eleanor found she could hear what they were saying.

“It is them, I am telling you; six summers of waiting and it is them. Cannot believe I got one… think we will get a bonus when we take their bodies back?” The voice sounded excited.

“We were told not to kill the one with the scar down his face… that had better not be the one you hit,” another voice growled.

“Will you two shut up and pay attention. Keep firing at that shield. When it fails you are going to have to make those arrows count. I do not want you to kill any of them yet, so just wound them,” a strong, commanding voice ordered.

“I think I lost two of them, did you hit them?” the excited voice asked, uncertainty creeping into the tone.

“No, you idiot, there is a shield up. Where did you lose them?” the growling voice demanded.

Eleanor listened to the conversation in confusion. Why had they been waiting for them for six summers? How did they know who they were? How did they know where they were going to be? She pushed the questions to the back of her churning mind for later and tried to concentrate on what she was doing. Moving slowly, they emerged at the edge of a camp –quite a permanent camp by the looks of it. They had built sturdy shelters, and Eleanor could see bedrolls and personal effects within them. The fire had a permanent-looking metal grill secured over its embers, and Eleanor could see rustic handmade chairs placed in front of it. There was a lot of ‘stuff’; they had been here a long time, maybe the six summers they were talking about. She needed to talk to these men, to ask them who had sent them and what they were doing here. The three men stood with their backs to them. Two had bows raised and were taking it in turns to loose arrows out in the direction of where they had left the others. Eleanor was just about to tell Freddie they needed to talk to the men, when the fire started to jump and hiss, the embers bursting into roaring flame. In the split second she realised what Freddie was doing, it was too late. His eyes blazing, he released all his energy at the three men, watching dispassionately as they turned into jerking, screaming fireballs, the slightly sweet and sickly smell of burnt flesh filling the air. They stumbled, flailing around their camp in agony and setting fire to their shelters. Eleanor felt the extreme heat and raised an arm to protect her face, feeling the cut on her side scream in protest as she did so. The men dropped, their bodies continuing to burn. Feeling a little sick, Eleanor snatched her hand away from Freddie’s and walked around the blazing camp and back towards where they had left the others.
Freddie didn’t need me for that, why did I have to watch?
She felt empty, emotionally blank. She knew she would be angry with Freddie later, but right now all she could see was Amelia’s pale face.
 

Amelia was just as she had left her. Conlan tenderly held her and amazingly she was still conscious. Will was still knelt to the side, his face and eyes now blank. Amelia’s shield was gone, and Eleanor wondered distractedly how close they had cut it; maybe Freddie had done the right thing by burning their attackers on the spot. Conlan noticed her and raised his head, eyes filled with agony.
 

“Eleanor, shake Will out of it – Amelia needs help.” Conlan’s voice was rough, hurt. Eleanor nodded, moved to Will and then dropped to the wet, muddy ground in front of him.

“Will?”
 

Blank eyes saw her, but they looked right through her. She slapped him hard, his head snapped to the side. Shuddering as if shaking himself awake, recognition coming back into his expression, he brought his gaze back to hers.

“Will, Amelia needs medical help. You’re the only one who can give it, so help her!” Eleanor ordered in as hard a voice as she could manage. Nodding dumbly, he crawled the short distance to Amelia’s side. Solemn grey eyes watched him, glassy and pain-filled. Gently he inspected the arrow where it had entered her chest beneath the left shoulder.

“Freddie, the fire? Are they dead? Was it Protectors?” Conlan asked, looking over Eleanor’s shoulder. Freddie stood behind her, his face devoid of emotion.

“They’re dead. I don’t know who they were,” Freddie admitted.

“Why not?” Conlan looked confused.

“Because he turned them into human torches before we had the chance to ask them,” Eleanor murmured.

“If we don’t know who they were, we don’t know if there will be more, or how they found us. We need to get out of here, and right now! Will, can Amelia be moved or do you need to treat her first?” Conlan asked, giving Freddie an irritated glance before looking at Will.

“Has the arrow head come out the other side?” Will asked in a flat voice, looking at the arrow and not Conlan.

Moving slowly and carefully, Conlan moved his hand over Amelia’s back, supporting her with his arm. Although he tried not to jostle her, Amelia gasped at the pain and coughed weakly, more blood leaking out of the corner of her mouth.

“No,” Conlan said, gently easing Amelia back into place.
 

Will looked at Amelia. “I can’t fix this; the arrow is too close to your heart.”

Amelia nodded and reached for his hand. He grasped it and kissed it tenderly.
 

“I can’t live without you, Amelia,” he moaned. Amelia gave him a small smile.
 

“This terror you’re feeling over losing me. This is what I live with every minute of every day. Do you understand now?” she asked, her voice a rustling whisper, like newspaper dragged along a pavement by the breeze.

“I’m sorry,” Will said, agony ripping through his words.

“I don’t want your apologies. I need your understanding.” Amelia’s words hung between them. Will nodded and Amelia’s smile lit up her face for a moment, a brief view of the sun between clouds.
 

“I love you,” she breathed.
 

Running a gentle hand down her face, Will leaned in and kissed her.
 

“I love you too, please don’t give up. We’ll find a way to help you.”
 

Amelia nodded and sighed, her eyes closing, Will moved his hand down to her neck, feeling for a pulse.

“She’s not dead,” Freddie said, and Eleanor jumped at the sound, the empty voice of a stranger.

“How do you know?” Eleanor asked; Amelia certainly looked dead.

“When the other Earths died we felt it. It was agony. You’ll know when Amelia dies,” Freddie said.

“No!” Will snapped angrily, not turning round. “Amelia is not going to die!”

“You said you couldn’t help her,” Conlan said gently.

“I can’t, but I know someone who can,” Will said, and Eleanor heard the ruthless tone.

“Who?” Conlan asked.

“Jarrick,” Will answered, raising his head to look at Conlan, who had tensed in wide-eyed shock.

There was a tense silence and Conlan slowly shook his head.
 

“Will… Jarrick won’t help.”
 

“Yes he will. We’re going to take Amelia to him. Nethrus is only a day’s ride from here. You’re going to do or agree to whatever he asks to get him to help,” Will said, his voice hard and cold.

“You have no idea what you’re asking,” Conlan said quietly.

“Yes I do, and I don’t care. Amelia is dying because she saved your life; you’re going to help her. I have followed you through one nightmare after another – never questioned, never doubted – and so has Amelia. I don’t care what it costs you, you will help her!” Will demanded. Conlan stared at him in disbelief, and then looking down into Amelia’s face he nodded.
 

“I’ll do whatever he asks,” he echoed softly. Eleanor wondered if anybody else had noticed how hard he was shaking.

Jarrick

They cut down a couple of thin trees, and using their blankets they made a stretcher for Amelia, Eleanor making a hood from branches and one of her jackets to protect her face from the rain. Will and Freddie’s horses were about the same height, so they carefully suspended Amelia’s stretcher between them so she was spared some of the bouncing of the journey. Under dark, evil-looking storm clouds they set off for Nethrus. Freddie and Will rode in front while Eleanor and Conlan followed, Conlan leading Amelia’s horse after him.
 

“Conlan,” Eleanor said softly. “Who’s Jarrick?”

Conlan turned to look at her, loathing deep in his eyes. “My brother. He hates me.”
 

“Then why are we going to him for help?”

Conlan sighed. “Jarrick has a healer, a very good one. I made a deal with Jarrick once before, when Will got stabbed in a fight. I think Will is hoping I can make a similar deal.”

“What sort of a deal?” Eleanor asked suspiciously as her brain provided her with the memory of Amelia talking about Nethrus.

“Jarrick agreed to help Will and I allowed Jarrick to give me a beating,” Conlan said flatly.
 

Eleanor stared at him. “What?! That’s totally ridiculous! You can’t make that deal again; Will has no right to ask it of you! What…”

“Eleanor, shut up.” The order was low and quiet, but there was something in his tone, as if he was down to his last thread of self-control and she was doing little to help him keep a grip on it. She snapped her mouth shut, staring at him. He ignored her and kept his eyes firmly in front.

“Amelia won’t want this,” Eleanor noted. She had expected him to tell her to shut up again or maybe yell at her, but his shoulders slumped and he turned his head to look at her. The rain and the gloom gave shadow and depth to the despair that filled his face.
 

“I can’t let her die, Eleanor. I owe her too much, owe Will too much...” he whispered, and Eleanor saw the fear he was trying so hard to hide.

“Maybe we can make a different deal,” Eleanor said gently. “We’re Avatars, we have powers, perhaps your brother would like …”

“NO!”

Conlan’s yell was so loud that both Rand and Horse jumped, but not nearly as high as Eleanor did. Freddie turned in his saddle to watch them. Conlan’s eyes blazed as he leaned across the gap between them, his voice a harsh whisper.
 

“Eleanor, my brother is a dangerous man – a nasty, devious, vicious monster.”
 

Eleanor stared at him incredulously. Conlan glared at her still, but she could see him attempting to get his anger under control.
 

“If you tell my brother what you are capable of, he will want that power for himself – and he can be very ‘persuasive’. You’re not going anywhere near him!”

Angry at his stubborn refusal to even think about other possibilities, Eleanor glared back. “I’m not going to let you just hand yourself over to some monster, not when there are other options.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Eleanor.” He pulled himself upright and turned away from her.
 

She would stop him, find another way. Closing her eyes and trusting Horse to follow the others, she tried to work it out, but how would she know what deal to make if she did not know what Jarrick might want? She doubted Conlan was going to give her the information she needed, so she was going to have to find a way to meet Jarrick herself.

Will pushed them through the afternoon storm and on through the night, heading south, stopping every few hours to check on Amelia. He said nothing. Eleanor had tried to talk in his head, but he had refused, which added more anger and frustration to what she was already feeling. The clouds broke as the sun rose the next morning. The bright light was dazzling, and Eleanor rode in a tired, miserable daze. When she felt an energy string brush against her, she thought her slightly addled mind was imagining it, but when she pulled it in and felt Amelia’s light presence fill her head, she was certain she was hallucinating.

Amelia?
 

Eleanor, you’re right, I don’t want him doing this.
In her head, Amelia’s voice sounded strong and determined.

Amelia, you should be saving your energy…

Eleanor, please listen to me, you have to stop Conlan.

I’m not happy about it either, Amelia, but I’d rather he got his arse kicked than you died.

You don’t understand. Will was pretty out of it the last time, he doesn’t really remember. I was the one who nursed Conlan. Jarrick didn’t just give him a beating, he tortured him… for days. What he suffered… He had nightmares for weeks. Jarrick tried to kill him last time, and this time I think he’ll make sure. We’re all expendable, apart from Conlan; he can make a new Avatar of Air. I would rather die than put him in Jarrick’s hands again.

Eleanor shuddered as Amelia sent her memories: Conlan’s broken, pain-ravaged body, the pitiful sounds he made in his sleep as he relived the torture, the wide-eyed terror when he woke, gasping, his body shaking with remembered agony.
 

How do I stop him?
Eleanor whispered.