Tide (16 page)

They walked the length of Sarah’s garden, past Anne’s vegetable patch, now wintry bare, past the pond, towards a small copse of beeches, ashes and hawthorns at the back, their black, naked branches jutting out against the sky. The northern wall ran behind the trees, covered in ivy and moss. Mike and Niall began inspecting the stones, looking for Sean’s sign.

“There!” Mike called finally, pointing at a small, spray-painted S. He started feeling every inch of the stones around the sign with stiff, frozen fingers.

“Ergh … slug.” Mike grimaced. “And random wiggling creatures.”

“Same here.” Niall muttered, kneeling on the carpet of rotten leaves to inspect the bottom section of the wall, and shivering in the chill wind.

After another few minutes of swearing and searching, Niall uttered a small cry of joy.

“And here we are!” Scrunched inside a tiny fissure in the stone was a square of transparent plastic sealed with sellotape. He passed it to Mike.

“Bingo!” Mike ripped the small package open. Inside was a piece of paper torn from a lined notebook, and on it, a series of numbers.

“What’s that?” asked Niall.

“Gamekeepers’ code. Give me a minute.” Mike took a pen from the depths of his rucksack and started scribbling.

“Can you not do it in your head? Bet Sean can do it in his head.” Niall loved irritating his friend and grinned, satisfied, when Mike gave him the usual exasperated look. Niall put his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, I’ll be quiet now.”

“That’d be a first. Right, there, I’ve got it. ‘Not at the Heron’s house anymore. Midnight Hall. Eesley.’ Eesley? Where on earth …?”

“Let me see. It’s Islay – Aye-lah, my American friend! In the Hebrides, islands off the west coast of Scotland. Gorgeous place, lots of great music,” Niall explained enthusiastically. Niall was a keen fiddle player, and he could play just about anything he put his hands on. “There are some great sessions to be found there, I’m told.”

“An island? Oh God … not another boat,” groaned Mike.

“Come on, Mike, you’re in Scotland now, you need to get used to the choppy seas!” said Niall, smiling.

“Shut up, Niall.”

There was you, and me and them

Over a birthday cake

And a photograph, it seems

It’s all that’s left

Sarah leaned over her bed and folded her white jumper. Then she unfolded it, and folded it again. She moved it onto the chair, carefully, and smoothed her bed where the woollen jumper had left an invisible indentation.

But by then the jumper was crumpled, lying on her dressing table chair at an angle. Sarah sighed in frustration. At this rate, the packing for Islay would take the whole day.

Sean and Elodie were downstairs, spending time together in the easy way old friends do. They’d been chatting about old times, with a couple of mentions of Mary Anne, Sean’s old girlfriend. Sarah had decided then that her room was altogether a better place to be.

Once more Sarah folded the jumper and smoothed it down in the suitcase that was lying open on the floor. This time it worked. She could move on.

“Sarah! Somebody for you!” Elodie’s voice drifted upstairs.

Sarah turned away from the pile of clothes on her bed. Elodie was at the bottom of the stairs.

“Who is it? Where?”

“A man. About to knock at the door.”

“But the gate was locked! It must be Nicholas, only he can open it.”

Elodie shook her head. “It’s not Nicholas,” she said assuredly.

Sarah raised her eyebrows; she couldn’t help being impressed with Elodie’s gift.

Sean was already up and behind the door, his
sgian-dubh
in his hand. Elodie’s lips started turning blue, and Sarah stood, rigid and waiting in front of the living room window. Then she saw who it was, and all alarm left her.

“It’s OK,” she muttered to the others as she ran towards the door. “This I can handle.” She pulled the door open. “Uncle Trevor!” She wasn’t overly fond of him, but at least it wasn’t a demon.

“Sarah.”

Sarah frowned. She’d never seen her uncle so dishevelled in her whole life. His eyes were circled blue and red-rimmed.

“You stupid, selfish girl. You thought you could get away with it, didn’t you? Cut us out of your life forever. Well, you certainly accomplished that! With your witchcraft, or whatever it is you and your parents get up to. You’ve got what you wanted. And now you are dead to me. To us. You and your despicable family. Do you understand?”

His lips barely moved, but the venom in his words was crystal clear.

“I
don’t
understand. What happened?” Sarah asked, shocked. Her voice was trembling and already full of grief. Because she knew. She felt it.

“Playing dumb, are you? Well, that’s all you need to know. Never, never come near us again, do you hear me? You, or any of your insane family or little friends. Do you hear me, Sarah bloody Midnight?”

“Hey! Trevor!” Sean came out from behind the door. His dagger was behind his back, but he looked no less intimidating.

Trevor didn’t budge, didn’t change his expression. Grief had made him fearless.

“Is it Aunt Juliet?” Sarah whispered, a world of grief in her words.

That’s what it was, the weird feeling after I said goodbye to her the other day.

“You’re dead to us, Sarah,” Uncle Trevor snarled, and threw a bundle of keys – Sarah’s house keys – and a book at her feet. The book lay with its spine broken and open, its pages crumpled under their own weight.

Trevor turned and walked away. Sarah watched his broad back and his uncertain step down the gravelly path. He brought a hand to his face – Sarah guessed he was drying his eyes. That was the man with a swagger, who was always dressed in perfectly pressed designer clothes, who had the salesman’s smile perpetually painted on his face.

Sarah bent to retrieve the book. It was a photo album. She flicked through the pages in silence, shaking Sean’s hand off as he tried to touch her shoulder. The album was full of pictures of Sarah as a child, and of her mum.

“He didn’t tell me how,” she whispered desolately. “Oh my God, was it the demon-bird?” She clasped her hand on her mouth. “It got away. I should have killed it!”

Stricken, Sean took a step towards her once more, and again she stepped back.

“Aunt Juliet is dead,” she said aloud, like she couldn’t quite believe it.

Like my parents, like Leigh. And little Shadow. And it’s always my fault.

“Sarah! What happened?” Nicholas was walking up the path towards them.

Perfect timing
, thought Sean.

“Who was that weird-looking guy coming out of here just now? Just barged past me. Sarah?” Nicholas had seen her face.

“Something happened to my aunt. I think she was attacked. I think she’s dead.”

Nicholas took the steps three at a time and enveloped her – such was Sean’s impression, that he’d swallowed her whole with his huge frame.

“Shhhh,” Nicholas soothed. “It’s OK. It’s OK. I’m here now. I’m here.” He stroked Sarah’s hair with his pale fingers.

From where he was standing, Sean could see a sliver of Sarah’s face. To his horror, he watched her expression change from stricken to dazed in the space of a few seconds.

She allowed Nicholas to take the photo album from her, allowed him to lead her upstairs, murmuring in her ear, as Sean and Elodie watched, stunned.

“Everything will be alright,” he was saying. “I’m here.”

They heard Sarah’s bedroom door close and Elodie turned and walked slowly towards the kitchen. But Sean stood as if immobilised. Sarah had told Nicholas that Juliet had been killed. And Nicholas didn’t seem surprised. He didn’t seem surprised at all.

*

Nicholas and Sarah lay on her bed, entwined. Sarah had curled herself up in the nest of Nicholas’s body. She felt warm and safe, and had no desire to move. She was sure that if she moved just an inch away from him, the terrifying grief that had been brought to her front door would overwhelm her and she’d suffocate.

A blue light started flickering on her bedside table, emitting a little
beep
. Sarah extended her hand and wrapped her fingers around her phone.

Bryony’s name flashed on the screen. Suddenly, Sarah wanted to speak to her friend so badly, tell her all. See her, her familiar face, her family – people she’d known and loved since she was a wee girl.

She switched the phone off.

She wouldn’t put Bryony and her family in danger. She would never go near them again. Just as she would never go near Trevor and her cousins again.

She made herself as small as she could, as small as a child, in the shelter of Nicholas’s arms.

In the darkness, he was smiling.

Every scent a memory

Sea and grass

Peat and salt

Where we came from

And what we left behind

The journey to Islay was like a dream of beauty, wind and rain and sea shaping a landscape unchanged for millions of years. It was like a balm on Sarah’s wounds, in spite of her grief for Aunt Juliet and Shadow, and in spite of the fear of another demon strike.

There were still no dreams. She’d always hoped for the dreams to disappear, she had fantasized about how peaceful, how free her life would be without them. But now that they didn’t come, it wasn’t like that at all. Being dreamless left her lost and uncertain and added to her terror.

She didn’t know what she was going to find at Midnight Hall. She suspected that the demon-tigers and the attack on Aunt Juliet were just the beginning of another wave – another Valaya? But she couldn’t count on the dreams to warn her. There was a constant sense of anxiety with every movement, every change of light, every unexpected noise.

Still, even with the black cloud hanging over her, Sarah couldn’t help feel a huge relief to be on the ferry to Islay – because everything around her spoke of freedom. Even in her sadness and fear, she could hear the call of home.

Nicholas stood beside her on deck, unable to keep his eyes from her. Sarah’s black hair was blowing in the wind, and she looked at one with the landscape, as if she’d been born from it – a Celtic goddess, going back where she belonged.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said over the roar of the wind.

“Yes,” he answered simply.

Something in his voice made Sarah do a double take. She studied his face. He was carrying a weight on his shoulders. Sarah could sometimes feel it so intensely that she could nearly see it, an invisible, malevolent incubus encroaching on his back, refusing to give him peace. The uncertainty in his eyes wasn’t like him – he was usually so confident, even arrogant with it. As if he ruled the world, as if nothing could ever worry him or break his composure.

“Are you OK?”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine,” he smiled thinly. He couldn’t confide in her, of course. He couldn’t speak about what tortured him, and what he had on his mind. He couldn’t tell her that the attack on Juliet hadn’t been his idea at all, but his father’s. That he hadn’t known it was going to happen, not so fast, so cruel.

His eyes roamed over her face, blue shadows under her eyes, cheekbones jutting out. He could see how much the attack on Juliet and Shadow’s death had taken out of her.

“You’ll love it on Islay,” she said and smiled at him, willing him to experience the same feelings she had as the ferry made its way across the sound.

“I’m sure.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and brought her closer. She breathed in his scent of earth and smoke, still persistent in spite of the wind and the smell of the sea. Nicholas took a quick look around. Sean and Elodie were on the other side of the boat. It was a good moment to speak.

“I’m so sorry about what happened to your aunt.” He cupped her cheek, turning her to face him, his black eyes holding her gaze. It was too good a chance to remind her how much she needed him. How much she depended on him. “They’re everywhere. The demons, I mean. Nowhere is safe. Except when you’re with me.”

Sarah gave him a wan smile and leant into him, feeling suddenly weakened. “I know. I’m very lucky to have you. We’ll be just fine,” she said.

“Yes. As long as we’re together, we’ll be just fine.”

They stood in silence for a minute, Sarah’s head on his shoulder, then he spoke again.

“Sarah.”

“Yes?”

“Do you ever dream of going away? Somewhere far away from all this? Somewhere entirely different. A new life.”

“What brought this on?” she asked softly.

“I’m not sure. Just … thinking.”

“Away from my home, no. I love Scotland. Away from being a Midnight …” She sighed. “Yes. Yes, of course I would. It’s not an option, but I wish I could. Why, are you planning to run away with me?” She smiled.

“I’d love to. You and me. Some place where nobody could find us.” His voice trailed away.

Sarah slipped her arm around his waist. She could feel his sadness and didn’t know what to do about it. “We can’t run from what we are.”

“I don’t know. Maybe there’s a way. Maybe together things can be different for us.”

Sarah didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t think of the future now, she couldn’t think of going anywhere, being anywhere but Islay. They stood entwined, taking in the beauty around them, heavy burdens on both their minds.

Suddenly, Nicholas interrupted Sarah’s thoughts. “Look!” he pointed to a group of seaweed-covered rocks shining with rain and seawater. A lone seal was sitting there, watching the ferry with its round, black eyes. Sarah met the seal’s gaze and they looked at each other for a few moments before the seal slipped into the water and out of sight.

“A spirit of the water?” asked Sarah dreamily.

“Maybe. Not one of mine. If they were near, I’d know.”

“A free one, then.”

“Lucky for them,” whispered Nicholas, and Sarah was left wondering what he meant.