The Named (31 page)

I kick myself; why didn’t I see this coming? With my gift of sight I could easily have spotted Marduke’s army among the trees, if I had only thought to look. But I’d been so concerned for Matt, and so focused on Marduke’s spy, that I allowed Marduke to trick us into walking straight into a trap.

Marduke grins with his half-mouth, yellow eye sparkling with mirth.

‘You never did fight fair,’ Shaun says in an offhand manner, and I have to wonder at his calm.

It’s obvious that whatever plan we have is now doomed. The warriors draw their swords, forming a kind of Catherine wheel around us, ready for the assault. We don’t stand a chance. We’re all going to die here at the hands of this madman, who’s certainly had time enough to plan – twelve whole years!

Well, if I’m going to die here, there’s one thing I promise to do first: unmask this traitorous spy before me, even if it’s with my last breath. With this thought
fierce in my head, I also draw my sword. The spy swings around, sword in hand, and the fighting begins.

Marduke gives his spy a lingering look. She backs out of the circle, making sure she has a quick exit if required. We’re now between the attacking warriors from the trees and the four guarding Matt. Out of the corner of my eye, I see he’s starting to stir. ‘No, don’t wake,’ I mumble to myself. It would be far better for Matt to die blissfully unaware than to witness the slaughter of his sister first. But he only groans, and I realise his pain is so intense he feels it even through unconsciousness. He can’t stay out of his own time for much longer or he’ll die anyway.

‘What shall I call you, masked one?’ I ask as I force the spy ever backwards.

Her thrusts are long and skilful, but her words, when she finally answers, are not what I expect. ‘You’re so naive, Isabel.’

She knows who I am. I try not to sound surprised; at least now I’m certain it’s Rochelle. ‘How do you know me?’

‘I saw Ethan use his powers to impress you in the classroom. It didn’t take much to work out your involvement, especially when you started hanging around him in a big way. I heard about it endlessly from Matt.’

‘Then it wasn’t Marduke who told you.’

Her eyes roll. ‘Marduke says little. He keeps to himself most of the time. His sole focus is nothing but revenge – and pleasing the Goddess.’

‘Why do you work for Marduke?’

‘You make it sound like a job I applied for. Do you think I chose to be Marduke’s spy?’

My fingers go momentarily lax, loosening my grip on the sword, but magically it stays glued to my palm. She thrusts again, forcing me backwards three steps. I sense she wants me to understand her reasons, or maybe it’s just a technique to keep me from securing total concentration. One lapse and she could run that sword straight through me.

‘He tempted me at first, made me think his way was the one I was born for.’

I try to maintain complete focus while keeping her talking. ‘But you see now that it isn’t?’

‘I’m not a fool, Isabel. Look at Matt. D’you think I want this? He’s in agony right now, dying before our eyes.’

The passion in her voice feels real. ‘Then leave Marduke. Arkarian will protect you.’

She scoffs at this suggestion. ‘Marduke will kill me.’

‘Not if we kill him first.’

‘There are others he answers to. I’d never be safe.’

‘Arkarian would find a way.’

She peers narrowly at my face. ‘Are you insane? You speak as if you can win this battle. You can’t, Isabel. Marduke is cunning, his superiors even more so. The Goddess is besotted with him.’

‘But he is so—’

‘Ugly? What do you think she thrives on? Ugliness, disease, war, horror – they make her stronger, richer, more content. And soon there will be so few of the Guard left to defend the past. Everything will change. Evil in the form of pestilence, war and hatred will flood the world. The Order will reign supreme. What can one person do?’ She goes on to answer herself. ‘Nothing, Isabel. Nothing.’

But Rochelle has it wrong. Doesn’t she see that every person makes a difference? That as long she works for the Order, they will be that much stronger?

‘You’re the one who’s wrong, Isabel,’ she says simply.

‘What? I didn’t speak out loud.’

‘No, but I heard you all the same. I’m a Truthseer.’

‘Oh, no! Whenever we’ve talked in the past, you’ve heard my inner thoughts?’

‘Not only yours.’

It hits me who she’s talking about. Ethan, of course. This must be how the trouble started between Matt and Ethan, which eventually broke up their friendship.

‘Exactly,’ she confirms. ‘Ethan has feelings for me, although now they’re nothing more than hatred and disgust. But back then, even while I was Matt’s girlfriend, every time we met, I knew Ethan wanted me.’

‘He would never have purposely hurt Matt.’

‘He didn’t. He kept his thoughts completely under control. But he couldn’t stop me from picking them up. How I wanted to—’ She shakes her head, breaking eye contact, which causes a momentary lack of concentration. It’s an opening I can’t allow to pass. I rally hard, forcing her deeper into the woods. Her back hits a tree and with a fierce rallying thrust I disarm her. Her sword flies into the air. I bring mine up to lie horizontal at her throat. ‘It was the plan,’ she hisses, looking scared for the first time.

‘What plan?’

‘Marduke’s. To break up their friendship. To make Matt fall in love with me.’

‘For your life, tell me why?’

‘Marduke is into pain and suffering and just about
anything to hurt people, especially Ethan, his father, or anything to do with them. It’s his revenge. It clouds his judgement.’

This much I understand, but how can I trust her when she herself admits to having become a traitor through her own weak spirit?

She heaves for breath as my sword tightens across her throat. ‘Don’t kill me! I can still be useful tonight.’

‘Your use is done here. Don’t push your luck.’

‘Look, I was confused at the time Marduke first approached me. He showed me things, like how my father beat my mother to death. He told me that since half my genes were inherited from my father, I was born to be a part of the Order of Chaos, it was my destiny. At first, I didn’t believe him. I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But I was vulnerable, and power is food for the weak.’

I recall how tragic and disturbed Rochelle’s childhood was, living with a violent father. But still, if I let her go, how do I know she won’t simply turn around and try to kill me with a weapon concealed on her body?

‘I can’t prove that I won’t harm you. You wouldn’t believe me anyway. But if you can find it in yourself to trust me, somehow … somehow I’ll prove your faith was worthwhile.’

I think hard, my arms growing heavy holding the sword so long at this height. The blade presses into the skin at Rochelle’s throat, causing a trickle of blood. She’s asking me to release her, but how can I do that? For starters, if she’s telling me the truth, Marduke will realise she’s turned on
him
and will probably kill her immediately. But then it occurs to me how I can give her a way out. A way out that will leave her free to
choose. It will be up to her then to decide what to do with her life. Everyone deserves a second chance. Don’t they?

Suddenly, I recall how Rochelle tried to poison me that time in the past with King Richard II. She knew my identity then and still she—

‘It was my job. If I didn’t, I would have been reported. I wasn’t alone on that mission. But there wasn’t enough poison in that goblet to kill you, Isabel. Only to make you ill for a short time.’

Taking the risk that she’s telling the truth, I slide the tip of my sword beneath her skin-tight mask, raising an edge near her left ear. It lifts, and with a flick of the sword, peels away, coloured lenses and all, revealing Rochelle’s brilliant green eyes, looking slightly reddened and irritated from the mask.

With nothing to protect her identity now, Rochelle has Marduke’s blessing to turn and run. She takes one step backwards and gives a barely perceptible nod before disappearing into the woods.

I don’t get a second to analyse whether I’ve done the right or wrong thing. Arkarian’s voice sings out, ‘Hurry, you’re needed here!’

I run back into the clearing. What I see there leaves me gasping and breathless. Many warriors are now lying dead or maimed on the clearing floor. Marduke himself stands beside Matt with a flaming torch in his hand, poised ready to light the timber at Matt’s feet. The guards on either side of Matt are now fighting Arkarian, Mr Carter and Shaun. Then I see why Arkarian called. It’s Jimmy – lying very still, half slumped against a log, blood pumping out from a deep wound to his thigh.

I run over and lift his fingers from the wound, running a hand over his sweat soaked face. A warrior approaches with his sword drawn. Shaun diverts his attention quickly, doing battle with two warriors at once. Immediately, I get to work on healing Jimmy. He’s lost a lot of blood, and it takes me a few minutes to get started. Just as I think the task impossible, the cells will not repair, they begin to move at my will. I seal the exits first, saving what blood Jimmy has left, then repair his damaged tissues, muscles, tendons and blood vessels.

‘Good work,’ he says, regaining his strength with surprising speed. Leaning on me at first, he gets to his feet, tentatively trying out his newly repaired leg. It takes his full weight and he grins, nodding with relief. ‘I owe you one, my girl!’

He takes his sword and gets straight back into the fighting. We are, of course, still severely outnumbered, two and sometimes three to one.

Shaun suddenly eliminates the pair he duels with and spins on Marduke, who still holds the torch threateningly near Matt’s feet. ‘Touch flame to that wood and I will slice your head completely off, as I should have done twelve years ago.’

Marduke only laughs, but tosses the flame to one of his warriors. I think he still resembles Lord Whitby. ‘Hold this,’ Marduke says. ‘I’ll be back to light it soon.’ And to Shaun he says, ‘It’s about time we finally settled this score,
friend.
’

They begin to duel. This fight is unfair right from the start. Marduke is fresh, having fought no one yet, whereas Shaun has fought many already. This also is in Marduke’s plan.

Matt suddenly groans and moves his head, as if slowly waking. What else can go wrong? I spin around in a mad circle, wondering how Ethan could possibly be taking so long. My attention is riveted to Shaun duelling with Marduke. This is the fight Shaun left the Guard to avoid. The others too have paused to watch, forming a rough circle so that they can keep an eye on each other as well.

Marduke has the upper hand right from the start. Shaun gives back as good as he gets, but it’s obvious he’s tiring. The battle just seems to go on and on, then Shaun’s sword strikes Marduke’s right shoulder, drawing blood.

Marduke shakes his head with a violent grunt, and comes back with a vengeance that leaves everyone stunned. Swords clash fiercely. Shaun is forced ever backwards. It’s obvious now that Shaun is losing, but when the lethal strike comes, it happens so quickly it takes us all by surprise. Shaun falls to one knee. Terribly disadvantaged, he tries hard to regain his footing, but Marduke lunges his sword straight at Shaun’s chest. It goes in swift and deep, piercing right through Shaun’s protective armour.

Shaun gasps, his sword dropping with a clang to the ground. I run to him and, with Jimmy’s help, withdraw Marduke’s sword. Quickly, we remove the battered armour. I put my hands to Shaun’s chest in an attempt to stem the massive blood flow while starting to work my healing skills. But I’m still weakened from healing Jimmy, and Shaun is fading fast.

Marduke stares down with a satisfied half-grin. ‘At last,’ he hisses.

Trying to ignore the hatred and bitterness emanating
from the heartless man towering over me, I press down hard on Shaun’s chest and start visualising the enormous amount of healing that must take place to seal the wound first, then repair the heart and all the surrounding damaged areas.

But Marduke tries to distract me. He takes back the torch, calling my name, taunting me to watch him light the wood beneath my brother’s feet.

A sudden commotion seizes my attention. Warriors move around the clearing. There’s a new figure among them. Ethan!
Finally
, he makes an appearance. Where has he been? He doesn’t even seem to be hurrying. Steadily, he approaches Marduke, ignoring everyone else, though as he passes near me he gives a lingering look at his father lying on his back beneath my hands, blood still oozing from his open heart-wound. In a flash, his eyes reveal the pain and torture of a child gripped by the certain knowledge that he could at any moment lose that which is most precious to him – his own parent.

‘You’re too late, it’s almost over,’ Marduke taunts, holding the torch mere centimetres from the wood.

‘Ah, but not too late to show you this.’ Keeping his eyes focused solely on Marduke, Ethan raises one hand and, in a dramatic show, moves it in a wide arch. Before our eyes a brilliant dome of light appears, the shape of a beautiful girl generating within. She looks up and around the dome, confusion on her delicate face.

‘What game is this?’ Marduke demands.

‘Don’t you think she looks a little familiar?’ Ethan asks in a teasing voice.

Marduke takes the challenge by peering intently at
the girl. Suddenly, his head jerks backwards. ‘It can’t be!’ he whispers.

‘She is your daughter,’ Ethan announces flamboyantly, bowing at the same time. ‘
Neriah.
’

Heal
! I order myself to concentrate on repairing the damaged cells in Shaun’s chest, visualising the sealing of vessels, blood returning to wounded tissue. As the healing takes shape, I wonder whether my efforts are too late, as Shaun’s loss of blood is horrendous. I try hard to keep focused, but the torch at Matt’s feet, the darkening of his bruised skin, and this unexpected shy-looking apparition have me mesmerised. I force myself to work on two levels: healing Shaun, which I do with an inner source of energy I’m normally unaware of; and observing the goings-on around me.