Eleanor (91 page)

“He tried to kill you,” Conlan pointed out, conflicting emotions warring across his face.

“No, he didn’t, he didn’t have enough strength to give me anything more than a nasty shock and he knew it – he’s just not someone who gives up easily. He’s your father’s personal Enforcer, Conlan, and I want him to join us,” Eleanor said. Feeling a little better she pulled herself unsteadily to her feet and walked over to where Arran lay panting, his glazed eyes trying to focus on her. He was not able to sit up, so she lay on her side next to him so she could look into his eyes. Slowly, Eleanor reached a hand out and stroked his face.

“Do not touch me, abomination,” he hissed.

Eleanor sighed and withdrew her hand. “Is that you talking, Arran, or the nonsense you have been filled with?”

“I will not listen to you, abominations lie,” he muttered, the effort making him cough weakly.

Eleanor smiled. “Yes, sometimes we do, but we try hard not to.”

“Why are you still talking to me? Just kill me and get it over with,” Arran said, and Eleanor realised with a sick feeling in her stomach that he really expected her to kill him.

“I am not going to kill you, Arran, and neither are any of my friends. I cannot force you to join us either, if you wish to stay here that is your choice, but if you ever get tired of being treated badly, come and find us,” Eleanor said, smiling sadly. “It would upset me if I was ever forced to face you across a battlefield.”
 

Arran still looked confused as he lost his grip on his consciousness, his eyes closing. Will knelt at his side, checking for a pulse.
 

“He’s still alive, do we take him with us?” he asked, blue eyes moving to Eleanor.
 

She shook her head. “He must make the decision to join us of his own volition.”

“If he does turn up, how do we know we can trust him?” Freddie asked.

Eleanor sighed, feeling only pity. “He doesn’t have a shield, Freddie, it’s been stripped from him. Will can read Arran’s soul, if we need him to.”

“There’s more going on here than you’re telling us,” Amelia said, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.
 

Eleanor smiled. “Am I that transparent?” All four of them nodded. She looked back at Arran’s still body, gently stroking his head. “Yes, I think there’s more going on here, but let’s see if Arran decides to join us, before I start telling you my theories.”

They crept from the dungeon’s antechamber and through the stronghold’s corridors, getting lost several times before they found the main entrance. Despite their energy levels they were all struggling under a bone-crushing weariness. Eleanor was beginning to worry about how she was going to ride. Conlan had seen her occasional faltering steps and had offered to carry her. She had given him such a contemptuous glare that he had backed off, hands raised in surrender and a slightly hurt look on his face. The exhaustion was making her crabby, but she was not an invalid. Will was not carrying Amelia, and Freddie was still putting one foot in front of the other.
 

“Do we have to walk across the courtyard?” Freddie whispered. “It’s kind of exposed.”
 

They were hidden in the darkness of a doorway in the corner of the courtyard, the main gates so tantalisingly close that Eleanor was tempted to make a run for it. The courtyard was maybe forty yards across of empty space. The night was still, quiet and freezing cold, but Eleanor could see the sky starting to lighten above the courtyard’s buildings. Could they wait until daylight and then sneak out? The gates were closed – this was not a great obstacle to her – but blowing them up would make a lot of noise. If they could wait until daybreak, maybe they would open the gates anyway, but if they waited someone would notice they had escaped. Eleanor was still thinking this through when she heard shouting and running feet.

“They have escaped, secure the gate.”

“Someone call a healer!”

“Inform Lord Daratus.”

Behind her, Conlan swore softly.

“There goes the element of surprise. I assume they’re yelling about us. We might as well make a run for it,” Amelia whispered.

“We could really do with putting more effort into the planning stage of our ‘plans’,” Freddie muttered.

Eleanor smiled as Conlan leaned into her, lips brushing her neck, the soft vibration of his voice felt more than heard. “Eleanor, can you take out the gate?”
 

She nodded. “But could we make sure there’s nobody in front of it before I do? It’s going to be a rather big explosion.”

As she spoke, a troop of thirty hastily-dressed Protectors came stumbling out of a door into a vaguely formal arrangement in front of the gate. A door ten feet to their right slammed open and Eleanor was surprised to see Arran march out of it. Well, ‘marching’ was a generous term. He obviously wanted it to look like he was in firm control of himself, but his movements were stiff and pained. He was met in the middle of the courtyard by the other three Enforcers, who looked around warily. Eleanor felt air brush past her face as Amelia raised a shield to hide them.

“Managed to slip past the mighty Arran, did they?” the Enforcer’s sarcastic tone carrying clearly in the frigid air. The other two sniggered.

“There is only one way in and out of this place, so they will have to come through us to get out,” Arran said, ignoring the jibe.
 

“So if they got out, how come you are not dead?” the sarcastic Enforcer asked. Arran shrugged. Another door into the courtyard slammed open and another troop of Protectors, ready for a battle, filed into the courtyard, followed by Lord Daratus.

“ARRAN!”

Lord Daratus’s voice filled the courtyard with cold authority. Eleanor saw Arran flinch and his head drop.

“Yes, my Lord?” he said in an empty, emotionless tone. Daratus strode across the courtyard until he was stood in front of the four Enforcers.

“You allowed them to escape?” he asked.

“No, my Lord, I did not allow them to, they were just stronger than me. Even your son showed magical talent, his eyes were glowing and he flung me into a wall without touching me,” Arran said calmly. Lord Daratus lashed out, catching Arran in the face and knocking the young man onto his back.
 

“He is no longer my son, Arran,” he said in the same emotionless, bored voice.

“No, my Lord,” Arran agreed from the floor, a hand pressed against his face as blood dribbled from his nose. His tone was respectful, but Eleanor could see the hate in his eyes.

“He showed magical talent?” Daratus mused. “He tested with very minimal talent as a child and proved unworthy of training. This must be the power of the Five we were told about. Arran, if they were able to break out of their cell and overpower you, why are you not dead?” Daratus dropped his vicious pale-blue eyes to glare down. Eleanor was impressed when Arran stared back calmly.

“They did not want me dead,” Arran said truthfully.

“Why not?” Daratus asked, and there was a nasty threat under the question.

“I do not know, my Lord.”

“I am disappointed. This will not go unpunished, but you may redeem yourself a little if you are able to apprehend the Five before they leave the stronghold,” Daratus said, turning on his heel and walking from the courtyard.

“All of a sudden I feel really sorry for that kid,” Conlan whispered. Eleanor nodded as she watched Arran force his body to stand, fighting his pain. He hung his head, humiliated, as the sniggering turned to sneering laughter.
 

“So what now?”
Will murmured, staring in dismay at the sixty armed Protectors between them and the gates.

Eleanor stepped back against Conlan, who automatically wrapped his arms around her, her back fitting perfectly into his chest and stomach. She laid her head against his arm and closed her eyes. In the silence, Eleanor felt the serenity that listening to Conlan’s breathing brought her, and slowly she pushed her mind into concentrating on the problem in hand, looking for a solution. Information poured through her mind and she discounted nothing, allowing all possibilities equal consideration. Eventually, the thoughts consolidated. She opened her eyes, and her friends looked at her expectantly.

“I have a plan. It’s a little complicated, so I’m going to explain it as I go along. Is that OK?” Eleanor whispered. They nodded at her.

“Amelia, I need you to create some fog – really damp, moist-laden fog – in the courtyard. Can you do that?” Eleanor asked.

Amelia shook her head. “I don’t know how.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Amelia, just pull a cloud down into the courtyard, one that’s full of rain.”
 

Eleanor stared at him and grinned. “I said you were a genius!”
 

Amelia closed her eyes, her face a mask of concentration, as she focused on the task while keeping the shield in place.

The light in the courtyard slowly darkened as a huge grey cloud moved overhead. At first the Protectors did not seem to notice, their focus on the shadows around the square. As the cloud moved down, there were gasps and mutters of suspicion and fear. Arran looked up for a moment, his eyes narrowed, and then he lowered his gaze. Eleanor gasped audibly. She knew he could not see her, but before the cloud’s dark grey mist obscured him from view, Eleanor felt sure he had known she was there.

“Hold your positions,” Arran yelled through the courtyard, his voice muffled by the thick, damp air.

“Mist, now what?” Amelia asked. She looked as grey as the cloud, and Will caught her as she staggered against him. “We have to hurry,” Amelia whispered. “I can’t hold the shield much longer.”

“Conlan, can you help Amelia? I need Will a moment,”
Eleanor said. Conlan nodded and put a shoulder under Amelia’s arm to support her; she dropped her head groggily against him. Will brushed her hair out of her face and turned to look at Eleanor, a questioning look on his face.

“I need you to electrocute the cloud,” Eleanor said. Will stared at her and a smile spread across his tired face.

“How does that help?” Freddie asked.

“The water in the cloud will radiate my energy charge out, hitting them all at once. It may not be not enough to kill them, but it will certainly stun them. But I suspect that was Eleanor’s plan all along,” Will said, his grin getting wider as Eleanor nodded.

“Clever,” Freddie said appreciatively.

“On occasion,” Eleanor agreed.

Will stepped briefly around Amelia’s shield, careful not to touch the tightly packed vapour, and released his energy. Eleanor saw it pass through the cloud as small flashes of purple light, like a mini electrical storm. They heard the yelps, groans and cries of surprised pain and then the thuds as bodies dropped to the ground. Eleanor hoped her plan did not result in more deaths on her conscience. Once the flashes had dissipated, silence fell.

“We have very little time before the cloud breaks up. We have to go... now. Run!” Amelia ordered, dropping her shield. Will pulled Amelia into his arms and Conlan supported Freddie. Using the walls of the courtyard as a guide, they ran into the cloud and aimed for the exit. The cloud made it difficult to see, which had sort of been Eleanor’s point, but it meant they were almost on top of the gate before they saw it, the Protectors’ unconscious bodies lying before it.

“Amelia, you need to push the Protectors out of the way,” Eleanor whispered, panting and looking around fearfully. The cloud was beginning to break up and they were about to become easy targets.

“Amelia isn’t capable at the moment,” Will said quietly. Eleanor looked at her friend’s limp body cradled against his chest.

“Conlan,” Eleanor whispered. “Can you do it?”

He smiled and nodded. Leaving Freddie to stand on his own for a moment, he walked a little closer. He took a slow, deep breath and swept his hand from one side of the gate to the other. The Protectors’ bodies slid and tumbled against each other as they moved with bruising speed into a pile in the far corner of the gate. Conlan turned round and gave Eleanor a grin. She smiled back. She would have to be careful, but he had created enough room for her to blow up a sizeable chunk of the gate without killing anybody. She waved her hand, indicating they should move out of the way.

“STOP!”

Loud, hard and angry, the voice shattering the silence made them all jump. They turned round to see Arran standing ten feet behind them. He looked dazed, but he was upright and walking towards them.
 

“I cannot let you leave.”

“You may have noticed we were not asking for your permission,” Conlan said in a calm, relaxed tone.
 

Arran glared at him. “Lord Daratus will not be pleased. I must make you stay or die trying.”

“Are those your only choices?” Conlan asked, his voice still calm and very non-threatening.

“What do
you
want?” Eleanor asked. Arran stared at her, and from the look on his face she assumed nobody had ever asked him this question before. He did not seem to know how to answer, but before he got the chance Conlan flicked his hand and the young Enforcer was once again knocked off his feet, slamming into the wall near the far side of the gate.

“That was unnecessary,” Eleanor chastised.

“Eleanor, the sun is rising, the cloud is dissipating and Amelia isn’t able to create a shield right now. I know you like the boy, but we don’t have time for this,” Conlan said, irritated. Eleanor walked away from him and towards where Arran had fallen; she was surprised to discover him still conscious.

“You have a very high pain threshold,” Eleanor said, crouching at his side and gently running a hand down his face again. He did not ask her to stop, did not flinch away; he just stared, his glazed eyes holding hers. His voice was an almost inaudible whisper when he spoke.
 

“Please, just kill me. I am sure it will be kinder than what
he
will do to me.”

Eleanor smiled at him sadly, still stroking his face.

“I am sorry, Arran, but I cannot do that. You have a destiny.” She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “When you are ready, come and find us,” she repeated. His eyelids were dropping – he was fighting it, but his consciousness was fading. Sighing, Eleanor got back to her feet. Conlan stood behind her with a look on his face she did not understand.