The Named (14 page)

Together they leave. Once alone, I walk around the large room with a certain nervous anticipation, marvelling at my new surroundings. The floor for one, oddly warm for stone as if it’s heated from beneath, yet the room feels wonderfully cool. There’s a four-poster bed with an elaborate net around it in the centre of the room. Along one wall a carved chaise longue stands beside a marble desk with matching stool. On the opposite side is an open window, without glass which looks out over that intimate golden courtyard.

I sit on the wide stone ledge for a few minutes observing the birds buzzing among the trees. As I watch, a sense of peace starts to fill me. My relaxed mind-state, coupled with the morning heat, soon has my eyes drooping. But they snap wide open quickly when a loud bang, probably a door slamming shut, resonates in the distance. It has me searching the far corner of the yard. A figure of a man, dressed in a long brown tunic, belted at the waist with a yellow cord and
matching wide-sweeping cape, soon emerges. I stretch up a little to get a better view and see the man briskly cross the courtyard.

For a second I can’t believe my eyes, and quickly slide down the window ledge out of view, sucking in a few good breaths. It can’t possibly be …? But I just have to take another look, and catch him disappearing into one of the buildings below. It’s him all right – my history teacher, Mr Carter.

What’s
he
doing here?

As I slide back down to the floor, a few things start to make sense. Mr Carter’s relationship with Ethan, for one. OK, they don’t like each other, and I sense there’s real animosity between them, but there’s also a definite connection. This Guard thing must be it. They know they’re both members, and this knowledge puts a strain on everything when they’re together. It also explains Mr Carter’s strange conversation with me, warning me at the same time as offering friendship of sorts.

So, does this mean he knows about me? Knows that I’m becoming an official member of the Guard today?

I don’t get any more time to think, because Ethan opens my door and frowns at me. ‘What are you doing on the floor?’ In his all-black tunic and cape he looks regal and absolutely stunning. He leans down towards me with his hand outstretched. ‘They’re ready for you out there,’ he says, helping me up.

At his words my hands go stiff and cold. Once I get to my feet I give them a little shake, squeezing my fingers into fists, opening them and closing them again to get some feeling going.

Ethan gives me a reassuring smile. ‘Stop worrying.

You’re going to be sensational.’

‘Thanks, but I don’t believe you. I’m not sure what on earth I’m doing right now. And I have to tell you about someone I saw here a few minutes ago.’

His head lifts up slightly. ‘Carter?’

‘Yes!’

‘I saw him too. He’s here to give evidence to the Tribunal tomorrow.’

‘At
your
trial?’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Oh, no!’

‘Exactly. He’s going to make sure I get nailed. But don’t worry, he won’t be going to your initiation.’

A thought occurs to me. ‘Can I give evidence at your trial tomorrow?’

He looks at me funny. ‘Assuming you’re allowed to witness the trial in the first place, what would you say?’

‘Well, that I’ve known you for a long time, and that … and that you’re a good …?’

‘Trainer? I haven’t even shown you how to land properly. You end up fulfilling a mission that I stuff completely, having physical contact with a member of the Order of Chaos while on a mission of observation only. Yeah, right. I’m sure they’ll believe you.’

‘Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself! You’re a good Trainer. I trust you, Ethan.’

We’ve started down the white hallway, but when I say these last four words, Ethan stops and looks at me. ‘Thanks, Isabel, that means a lot to me. Now I want you to forget my problems ’cause this is your day. You’re going to walk into that room with your head held high. Just as it should be, OK?’

I smile back at his seriousness. Just as I do, the doors up ahead silently open backwards into a circular room from which emanates an aura of power beyond anything I’ve ever felt before. Immediately my mouth goes dry, my hands go numb again. But then Arkarian appears, standing in the open doorway with a smile on his face.

‘They can’t wait to meet you,’ he says, pulling the hood of my cape right up to cover my hair.

Somehow I doubt it.

I forget for a moment that Arkarian knows my thoughts. ‘You’re one of the Named, remember.’

His words are comforting, but only for a second. Then, as he steps back to make room for us to pass, the nerves hit all over again. My stomach feels as if the birds from the courtyard have taken up residence inside and are now trying to get out through my ribcage.

Ethan takes my elbow. As my Trainer, he is allowed to accompany me inside. This is great ’cause my knees are not functioning as knees right now, but are more like jelly.

He leads me to the centre of a circle formed by the members of the Tribunal, all sitting equidistant from each other in the shape of a nine-digit clock. A stool appears before me, a similar style to those Arkarian provides in his chambers. I glance up from within my hood and he appears in my direct line of vision. He’s wearing his hood now too, his face shaded deeply within, but I can make out his intense violet eyes. They smile at me, calming my pounding heart.

Once I am seated, Ethan gives my arm an encouraging squeeze, then looks straight ahead to the one that
is immortal. ‘I present to you my Apprentice, Isabel Becket.’ He bows and moves out of the circle to stand beside Arkarian. Now I’m on my own. I take a deep breath.

As I understand it, each of the nine members of the Tribunal will introduce themselves and endow me with a special gift, a gift that belongs to their respective House. Lady Devine is first to speak, immediately to the left of the immortal. She stands and comes towards me, a beautiful woman with blood-red hair that hangs like liquid silk around her face and all the way down to her calves. She’s wearing a loose-fitting white gown drawn in at the waist with a gold-plaited cord. Her bare feet are small and pale. ‘I welcome you to the Guard, Isabel, from the House of Divinity, and bestow upon you the ability to bear pain.’

Up close her aura of strength and power is hard to take without squirming. It’s not exactly scary, just overwhelming, making me want to run and cower and hide beneath a blanket and whimper. Inside, I know she’s not going to hurt me, but I also sense that if she wanted to, she could do so in an instant, without even lifting a finger. As much as I would like to, I can’t make myself look into her eyes, though they’re strongly compelling me to do so.

She returns to her seat and the man to her left rises and glides towards me, introducing himself as Meridian. His stature is slight and he gives the impression of floating, rather than walking on his bare feet. ‘From the House of Kavanah, I welcome you, Isabel. I bestow you with the wisdom to distinguish good from evil and illusion from reality.’

Brystianne is next, introducing herself as queen of
the House of Averil. This woman definitely resembles my mental image of a queen. She looks regal in a full-skirted gown made of shimmering gold. Her feet are covered in gold slippers. Her hair, the colour of ripe wheat, is piled high atop her head. ‘Welcome, Isabel,’ she says with a smile. Holding her hand up over my head, her eyes twinkling, she showers me with a shimmering sprinkle of dust. ‘My gift to you is the ability to heal your own heart.’

Sir Syford from his own House of Syford follows, a man so tall and broad of shoulders that I instinctively draw back. With conscious effort I stop myself. He comes right up to me, peering down with coal-black eyes deeply set but amazingly warm. He smiles. ‘My gift is that of judgement. May you always be able to view the spirit through the body.’

Elenna of the House of Isle endows me with the gift of knowledge. Beside her, a Lord named Alexandon of the House of Criers lays upon my head the gift of courage, then adds with a touch of humour, ‘Thoughfrom what we’ve already witnessed, little more is needed here.’

His words have all the members smiling or giving a little laugh. He moves back and Arabella from the House of Sky and Water glides off her seat. As she draws nearer, my eyes become riveted to her face, so pale and delicate that I can see the fine blue veins beneath her translucent skin, which itself has a blue tinge, as do her lips. But it’s her eyelashes that are most startling, long, thick and encrusted with what appears to be a blue frost of ice. With pale and blue-tinged hands she weaves a pattern over my head and announces in a delighted voice that her gift is that of
sight – ‘in all and any light,’ she adds with a bit of a giggle.

Then comes Penbarin, every bit as huge as Ethan described, and even taller than I imagined. A real giant. He stands before me, casting me in an eerie shadow. ‘Welcome, Isabel, from the House of Samartyne. Our gift to you is that of forethought and insight.’

He ambles back and now I am facing the immortal, who is, I am told, of no fixed sex. In my thoughts I wonder how I should refer to him or her. ‘
It
’ sounds disrespectful. The caped figure comes to stand before me, and in a firm, yet gentle, voice enlightens me, ‘You may refer to me as Lorian. My House is that of the Guard, and I welcome you with the gift of sixth sense.’ Lorian pauses and I raise my eyes a little but can’t bring them to meet the immortal’s. ‘And now that our gifts have been revealed to you, Isabel, I ask whether you are willing to accept them, and take up your position as Apprentice?’

Lorian must be looking straight at me, but it feels as if this immortal creature’s gaze is going right through me instead. I’m thankful for the stool beneath me, the edges of which I find myself gripping with frozen fingers.

‘Isabel,’ Lorian continues. ‘Do you swear your fealty to the Guard, promise to serve and defend on its behalf, adhering to its secret codes, in readiness for the final conflict with the Goddess of Chaos and her armies?’

I swallow hard and nod.

Friendly laughter erupts around the room. Lorian explains gently, ‘Your vocal promise is required.’

‘Oh, of course,’ I stammer, feeling my face heat up. ‘I
do. I swear!’

Lorian smiles. I don’t see it, but I sense it; and in that moment I feel a compelling urge to look upon Lorian’s face. If I had a second longer to think about it, I wouldn’t do it. But I don’t think, I just lift my head to meet the immortal’s gaze full on.

What I see there shocks me, sending me reeling backwards in body and mind, sucking the breath right out of me. I fall off the stool and land on my rear on the warm, shiny floor.

Lorian moves back, motioning to Ethan, who comes rushing over and helps me stand. I quickly get back on the stool.

‘It’s OK,’ Ethan assures me. ‘Others who have looked on Lorian’s face have dropped dead.’

He’s obviously joking; everyone is laughing, Lorian the hardest of all. Ethan’s words are calming, but it isn’t fear or anything that has this strange effect on me, nor the transparency of Lorian’s colourless yet brilliantly shimmering skin. It’s the shape and colour of Lorian’s eyes that has affected me so – oval, and deeply violet.

So much like Arkarian’s.

Chapter Twenty-four

Ethan

Isabel’s initiation goes well. Arkarian, especially, is beside himself. ‘Those gifts are the best I’ve heard them endow on anyone in the past six hundred years!’

Isabel can’t help being caught up in his excitement. I’m happy for her too. She is after all my Apprentice. So after the ceremony Arkarian decides we should celebrate. He takes us on horseback to see a famous Greek play – a tragedy written two hundred years earlier by a playwright called Sophocles. Arkarian explains each scene as it unfolds. Isabel is ecstatic, on a natural high. Even though the play is graphic, deeply moving and somewhat disturbing in its intensity, she still comes out smiling as she wipes at her tears.

On the way back to the palace Arkarian detours so that we can get a look at some of the buildings of this ancient city-state. The Parthenon, built about two centuries earlier, is by far the most spectacular that he shows us. Made entirely of marble, it stands like a monument to the gods on top of the Acropolis, its many columns reaching towards the sky.

On any other occasion I would be thrilled with the
afternoon’s sightseeing and play watching, but my stomach is in hard knots, making it difficult to enjoy anything. My trial is set for dawn tomorrow, and there’s a rumour that it will go on for hours. What the hell are the Tribunal expecting that should take so long? How much evidence and how many witnesses do they have against me?

As we dismount, a servant leads our horses away to be cared for, and Arkarian takes us inside the much cooler interior of the palace. Once in the spacious foyer he puts his arm across my shoulder. ‘Settle down, Ethan. You forget how respected you are among the Tribunal. They love your work, they applaud you, they laugh with you.’

His words are comforting, and for the rest of the late afternoon, as Isabel and I pass our time in the peaceful palace courtyard, I try to do as Arkarian says. But it’s just too hard. This is the life I was born to live. Being a Guard is in my blood. I know this with every breath of my body. What if they take it away from me?

After a light supper, Isabel goes to her room and I go straight to bed, thoroughly exhausted. But it feels as if I’ve only just closed my eyes when Arkarian starts shaking me. ‘Get up, Ethan. It’s nearly dawn. You can’t be late, the Tribunal is already gathering.’

I dress quickly in the all-black outfit provided, putting the cape on last, with the deep hood right over my head. If nobody sees my face, so much the better. But Arkarian has other ideas. ‘The hood must be down, Ethan. You know better than that.’

I grunt but do as I’m told and follow Arkarian down the long hallway to stand outside the double doors of the Tribunal chamber. My hands feel useless all of a
sudden, as if they’re not attached to my arms. I clasp them together to stop this irrational sensation.