The Named (7 page)

We find a small open glen surrounded by tall woodland on three sides and the lake on the fourth. Ethan puts his bag down and, as it’s already growing chilly, decides to make a fire. Tediously he starts explaining where to get the tinder and how it must be laid first, with the smallest pieces of kindling placed gently on top in a pyramid, allowing enough space to start a flame. He goes to light the tinder, but the shredded bark he’s using is moist. The fire doesn’t start. I could have told him when he first collected the stuff not to get it from fallen timber lying on the ground, as it would have absorbed moisture, especially this high up
in the hills and close to winter. Standing dead timber is best. But as he simply assumes my survival skills are nonexistent, I let him continue, knowing the fire will take a long time to start.

A few minutes later, my patience runs out. ‘Here.’ I gather some tinder of my own, exchanging it with his stuff. ‘Try this.’

In seconds a small flame is burning and soon the heavier kindling ignites. He stands back, staring into the flames. ‘You’ve done this before.’ It’s a statement.

‘Yes.’

‘Well then, let’s try something physical.’ He quickly switches into lecture mode again, this time explaining a thing or two about the art of karate.

Now I know I really should tell him, but again he hasn’t stopped to ask, assuming, I guess, that as I’m a girl, a small one at that, I wouldn’t have any physical skills. So I let him explain the basic points on stance and breathing and how important it is to control the mind. He paces through a simple self-defensive movement I learned six years ago in my first lesson. Then I throw him. His back thumps down hard on the cold ground.

‘Hey!’

‘Yes?’ I help him to his feet.

He stands back, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘You’ve done this before too.’

I nod. ‘I have a black belt.’

He’s fast getting ticked off, ego thoroughly bruised. ‘Anything else I should know?’

I do a quick mental check of the skills I’ve picked up over the years: rock climbing, abseiling, archery, fencing. I won competitions last year in both those last two
sports. But I don’t say anything to Ethan. I’m not sure he can handle the idea of a girl being able to do things like that.

He snorts and kind of hangs his head, then starts to laugh.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘I think I’m starting to understand why Arkarian only gave me three weeks.’

I don’t exactly follow, but somehow I sense it’s a compliment.

Chapter Ten

Ethan

Training Isabel proves easier than I imagined. She can do just about everything physical. She’s absolutely driven. It turns out she’s a sports maniac. There’s nothing she hasn’t done. It has me wondering, though, why a girl (or a boy for that matter) would do all those sports. It’s like she needs to prove something to herself, or someone else maybe. She’s strong, no denying that! She threw me so many times in karate this past week I think maybe she should be teaching
me
; but her small stature holds her back in other ways. Though she has the skills to wield a medieval sword with accuracy, it has her arms aching after only a few minutes. So working with weights has become an integral part of her training. The other major aspect to her training is in the metaphysical world. Isabel’s a healer, and though she managed accidentally to heal herself, doing it on call, forcing it to happen, isn’t working. Even using her meditative karate skills is proving no help. Still, we practise every day. Until we break through this block, any other paranormal skills she has will probably elude us. In this area we have heaps of work to do.

We’ve met every day for the past ten days, mostly after school and nearly all weekend. Our time together hasn’t gone unnoticed, even though I’ve tried avoiding Matt as much as possible, to the point of ditching the two classes we have together. But he’s bearing down on me now as I aim to jump the back school fence.

‘Hey, Roberts!’

I almost make it. But running would make me appear guilty of something, arousing his suspicions further, which could only make him hound Isabel for answers. If only he wasn’t so protective of his sister, and so negative on me.

Turning around, I see his girlfriend is with him. Great! This is all I need.

‘Hello, Ethan,’ Rochelle says softly.

‘Hello, Rochelle,’ I say, and then it happens again. My breath catches somewhere in my throat, making me gulp for air.

And as usual when Rochelle is present in my company, Matt stiffens like a board. ‘We have to talk.’

‘About what?’ As if I don’t know where this conversation is heading.

‘You know what. My sister.’

‘Is she ill?’

‘Don’t be a jerk, Ethan.’

‘What’s your problem, Matt?’

Rochelle’s eyes, as they always do, slide over me from head to foot. They come back up and she slowly smiles, sliding her hand through Matt’s hooked elbow.

‘I’ll tell you what the problem is, you’re spending too much time with Isabel. What the hell is going on between you two?’

For a second I don’t reply. Firstly, I’m insulted.
What’s wrong with Isabel spending time with me anyway? And why is he so upset? Does he think Isabel still has a crush on me? That was when we were kids. She’s over that now. Today we’re just friends. And this past week, training together, has proved just how good friends we can be, though it’s just as well he doesn’t know that.

So for Isabel’s sake I’m not going to make this situation worse. ‘I’m not doing anything with Isabel. We’re studying, working on our history assignment together. That’s all.’

‘You’re lying.’

‘No, I’m not.’ And I’m not, really. History is exactly what we’re working at. ‘Where do you get off calling me a liar, anyway?’

His jaw does that sideways shift again; this time I hear his teeth gnash together. ‘That’s easy, ’cause you are one. Remember, I know you from way back, and you haven’t changed one bit.’

He’s too much, but I’m not looking for a fight. If I had to I could flatten Matt with ease. No worries. But a punch-up is the last thing I want right now. I have more important things to do with my time and energy. ‘Suit yourself.’ I go to climb over the fence but he drags me down. ‘Hey!’

Still holding on to my shirt, he says through gritted teeth, ‘If you hurt my sister, I’ll come after you.’

I shove him back hard enough to break his hold. ‘What would be so wrong with me seeing Isabel anyway? She’s a nice girl. I like her.’

He comes back quickly, pointing a finger roughly at my chest. ‘You’re
not
a nice guy.’

I can’t help my eyes sliding to Rochelle, who until
this moment has been content to say nothing except with her expressive face and eyes. She knows there’s no real history assignment. She takes history too. Whatever her reasons, she’s keeping quiet. I don’t want to think about why. Just looking at her now wearing that smug smile, what is she thinking? Probably remembering those conversations she initiated so long ago that forced a wedge between Matt and me. Obviously she doesn’t care.

Matt catches the look I share with his girlfriend, misinterpreting it once again. He grabs my shirt front, letting loose with a fast left hook hard to the side of my head. His fist hits my cheek under my left eye, knocking me backwards. I get up, putting a finger to the rapidly swelling bruise. My fingertip comes away with a little blood. Hell!

Dillon suddenly appears at a run. ‘Hey, what’s going on?’

Matt turns slightly, an open hand held high. ‘Stay out of this, Dillon.’

Dillon looks to me for an answer. ‘He doesn’t like me hanging around with his sister,’ I say.

‘Oh. Nothing to get into a fight about, is it?’ asks Dillon.

The question is directed at Matt. His only response is the narrowing of his eyes. Then he steps right up to my face. ‘If you hurt Isabel—’

This time I shove him back before he gets another chance to connect his fist with my face. ‘Back off, Matt!’

Dillon grabs Matt’s arm, keeping him from coming at me again.

‘I swear –’ Matt says, trying to break free of Dillon’s hold.

I don’t wait for him to elaborate. After all, his concern is for his sister, and this I can respect. ‘I’d never hurt Isabel. You have my word.’

He stares at me with hard, dark eyes. ‘Just how good is that, Ethan?’

He’s remembering the many times I tried to tell him I wasn’t after his girl. There was just some weird connection between Rochelle and me, an attraction that was hard to sever with a clean swipe no matter how I tried. But he wouldn’t listen then, and there’s too much time past now to try explaining all over again. So I say nothing. I just turn my back, jump the fence, and hurry into the woods.

Isabel will be waiting.

Chapter Eleven

Isabel

He’s late, but at last I see him walking towards me, his hands dug deeply into his school trouser pockets, his head hanging low. Straight away I sense something is wrong. I start walking towards him, my heart doing a funny slow thump. Then I see his face. ‘What happened?’

But I know already this is Matt’s work. He’s been giving me a hard time the whole past week, drilling me with questions about what I’m doing spending so much time with Ethan. The problem is Matt knows me so well, brushing his questions off is sure to make him only more suspicious. But what else can I do? Telling him the truth is of course out of the question. It would break the code, a vital rule. Anonymity is what ensures the Guard’s protection. So I can’t tell him why Ethan and I train up here every day, and I’m not going to give it up just ’cause Matt can’t handle the thought that I’m spending time alone with Ethan. I just have to let Matt jump to his own conclusions. So far, Ethan hasn’t done anything to make me believe one negative word Matt’s said against him.

Ethan’s finger runs over the egg-size swelling under his left eye. ‘It’s nothing,’ he says. ‘Sorry I’m late.’

‘Here.’ I take his hand and lead him to a fallen tree by the lake edge. ‘Let me look at this.’ It’s a nasty bump, but the cut in the centre could only have been made by something sharp, probably Matt’s silver ring, the one Rochelle gave him for his birthday last year. ‘I’ll get some water. It’s so cold it should help reduce the swelling. My brother sure has one sharp fist.’

As I go to leave him, he grabs my elbow, stopping me. ‘I didn’t mean to upset him. Really. It wasn’t a huge fight or anything. It just happened so fast.’

‘So what does Matt look like now?’

He looks affronted, and I get it straight away – Ethan didn’t hit Matt back. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume you’d pay back with your own fists. I’m not going to make excuses for my brother. I just wish he wasn’t so obsessed with protecting me.’

He makes a scoffing sound, but softens his sarcasm with a small smile.

I go to the water’s edge and dip the corner of my shirt into the icy water. Coming back I get on my knees in front of him and dab at the swollen cut with the wet shirt, washing away the few drops of surface blood. Being this close to Ethan starts having a strange effect on me. Suddenly my senses are heightened. My breathing comes short and fast, and my mouth goes dry, while my heart starts thumping so loud that I can hear its pounding rhythm between my ears.

‘How does it look?’ he asks.

Gently I run my finger over the swelling, wishing with all my heart to ease the pain, as part of me feels very responsible. If only Matt wasn’t so protective. If
only I could find a way to heal the rift between him and Ethan!

‘That feels good.’

‘Hmm?’ I ask, unaware until now of the soothing effect my touch must be having.

Slowly I become conscious of Ethan’s eyes focused on my face. Our eyes meet and my breathing stops altogether. My lips feel so dry I have to moisten them with my tongue and for a crazy, wild second I think Ethan’s going to kiss me. But it’s only his hand coming up to touch the side of his own face. Suddenly he jumps off the log and I nearly fall over with the force of his sudden move. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. The lump is gone, that’s what.’

He comes right up to my face, pointing to the spot below his left eye. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but there’s nothing there now, is there?’

I shake my head, unable to believe this.

‘Even the pain has disappeared.’

Unconsciously I touch the area that was, only seconds ago, massive swollen tissue, rapidly bruising. Now there’s nothing but smooth clear skin, not a scratch or mark anywhere. ‘Did I really …?’

He throws his hands in the air. ‘Yes! You healed me.
You … healed … me
!’

‘What does this mean, Ethan?’

‘I think it could only mean one thing. It’s time you met Arkarian.’

Chapter Twelve

Isabel

But I don’t get to meet this famous wizard straight away. Apparently he’s on some very important mission to ancient Athens, and will be away three days. Which is fine by me, as I’m not sure I want to meet Arkarian. It will be the final confirmation that this ‘other world’ stuff is real.

‘He’s not a wizard,’ Ethan whispers.

We’re three-quarters through our history lesson, sitting right in the back row in the far corner together. I catch Mr Carter casting a hostile look down our way, his eyes fixed on Ethan. He pauses, then goes on with his lesson, leaving us undisturbed. I write, ‘
What, then
?’ on a slip of paper and quietly slide it to the edge of my desk. Ethan glances over, leans across and scrawls beneath my two words, ‘
TruthMaster’.

‘What?’ Stupidly I hiss this word out loud. I had just never seen the term ‘
TruthMaster
’ before, and it takes me by surprise.

In a flash Mr Carter is standing in front of us. Seeing the danger, both Ethan and I grab for the slip of paper with the unusual title scrawled on it. But Mr Carter is
faster and snatches the paper up first, holding it at an angle high enough to read. As he does this his eyes widen, then narrow, then focus fiercely on Ethan. He doesn’t need to say a word for either of us to know how angry he’s suddenly become. His face has gone a dark shade, almost purple, his pupils dilating until his eyes look black, the paper in his hand scrunched to the size of a pea.