Tide (6 page)

She crosses the room to sit beside me, her footsteps silent on the dusty floor. She smells fresh, of shampoo and mint shower gel. She’s wearing clean clothes too, a white top and jeans – she loves wearing light colours, she always has. Her hair is hanging in long damp strands. She looks better than when she first arrived. Her face is not as tired, not as lined, but there’s still a pallor, a frailty about her that used to not be there.

“I had a dream.”

“An attack?” I ask, alarmed.

“Not exactly. It’s strange. I dreamt of a woman, a girl with silver hair. She was swimming in the sea. I was in the sea too, the water came up to my neck.” She touches her white throat with her fingers. “And then a wave came, a weird wave that seemed to have … arms. Out to get me.” She trembles for a second. “The wave took me under, but the woman with the silver hair saved me. She held my head out of the water and took me to shore.”

“Do you have an idea of who she was?”

“I’ll find out sooner or later, I suppose. You can’t sleep?” Elodie asks, but she knows the answer.

“You know me.” I rub my forehead.

“Yes. I remember the way you were in Japan. I don’t know how you keep going on no sleep.”

“I don’t know either.”

“Harry always said he only slept when he was happy.”

“No chance for me, then!” I try to smile, but it’s more like a grimace.

“Why don’t I sit here with you, and you can give it another try?”

Elodie walks over and perches herself on the windowsill, hugging her knees. An invisible hand squeezes my heart – Sarah loves doing that, sitting on her windowsill looking out to her garden, wrapped in that white jumper she has.

I’m about to tell Elodie that there’s no point, I’m awake, it’s not going to happen, but I’m tired, so tired, and my eyelids start feeling heavy. Elodie’s profile looks exquisite, nearly angelic against the white sky and the black, swaying trees. She’s humming a tune under her breath, a slow, soft song I’ve never heard before, sweet as a lullaby. I feel myself relax …and then my heart flutters, my limbs tense up in sudden alarm – they don’t want to let go, they don’t want to give into sleep.

But I haven’t rested for so long, and Elodie’s voice is cradling me. Before I know it, I drift away with it. At last.

I wake as gently as I fell asleep, without the usual jolt of panic. My mind goes straight to the first thought I always have when I awake – where’s my
sgian-dubh
? I check – it’s on my bedside table.

Next, as ever, is a thought of Sarah. I need to see Sarah.

“
Ça va
?”

I rub my face with my hands. Elodie is sitting on my bed. I notice her fingers curled around her silver star necklace – the one Harry gave to her. I was with him when he bought it. Only yesterday, it seems.

“What’s the time?”

“It’s just past midnight. British time.”

“I haven’t slept so long in months.”

“Maybe you just needed some company.” She smiles.

“I’m going to see Sarah.” I jump out of bed and slip the
sgian-dubh
in the leather strap tied around my ankle.

Elodie’s smile wanes, replaced by an anxious expression. “Now? In the middle of the night?”

“Sarah is very powerful. She has the Blackwater and the Midnight gaze. If she uses her powers on me, I’m gone in a minute. I need to come back in one piece. My best bet is to catch her asleep.” I laugh, a hollow laugh, slipping my trainers on and making my way down the stairs.

Elodie follows me, grabbing her jacket hanging on the banister. “Would she hurt you?”

I hesitate. “I don’t know. I’d like to think not, but I can’t take any chances. There’s something strange going on with her. Remember what Harry used to say about Morag Midnight? Well, they seem uncannily similar.”

“Oh. I see.”

We make our way through the silent, still night. The sky and the air all around us are now dark purple, with the orange tinge of the lights over the city of Edinburgh. I feel full of energy after my sleep, as if I’d shaken off a lead suit I’d been wearing for days.

“Come,” I call, striding down the overgrown path. “We’re walking. I don’t want anyone to spot my car.”

Elodie looks around nervously. “I wonder when they’ll come next,” she whispers. “It’s just a matter of time, isn’t it?”

There’s no need to ask who “they” are.

“True. And they will get Sarah if I’m not there.”

“You said she’s very powerful.”

“She is. But she’s also new to the fight. Sometimes she sort of … forgets she’s a huntress. I always have to convince Sarah to fight. She’s been so sheltered by her parents.”

“Not a wise idea, to shelter a Secret heir. With all we need to face …”

“Well, she’s a Dreamer, so she knew what she was going to have to face one day. I suppose her parents were trying to protect her. Maybe because of what happened to Harry’s aunt … They never even told Sarah about that.”

“They never told Sarah her aunt died?”

“They never even told her she existed.”

“Seriously?”

“Weird, I know. And Sarah even reminded me of Mairead … the way Harry used to describe her. His father, Stewart, was very close to Mairead and he often told Harry about her. She was shy, sensitive. Very quiet. Just like Sarah. But something happened, just a few weeks ago. That’s when she changed.” I take a breath, remembering the terrible day Leigh was killed. “One of Sarah’s best friends was murdered by a Surari. The bastard said that if Sarah sacrificed herself, he’d spare Leigh. Sarah agreed, of course. But I was there. I couldn’t allow it to happen. So it was Leigh who died.”

Our feet make a crunching noise on the frosty grass. There’s silence all around and darkness as we walk across the moorland towards the outskirts of the city.

“After that Sarah changed. The Surari’s slave had possessed a woman – she was the one who killed Leigh. The woman turned up at our door, and well … Sarah slaughtered her. I mean, she
slaughtered
her. The look in Sarah’s eyes when she finished … It was as if she really was Morag Midnight.”

I haven’t quite managed to finish explaining when the ground rises up to meet me. I hit my face, hard, on a tree root. I taste my own blood as a voice rasps in my ear.

“Back … soil.”

I hope you never know what crawls

In places of the soul

I keep under a shroud

Sean

“Elodie!” I try and warn her, but it’s too late. She lands with a thud beside me. I struggle as hard as I can – the creature’s fingers are wrapped around my ankles, and they’re pulling me under. My eyes meet Elodie’s; she is mute and staring as she too struggles to free herself. I see her reaching for the dagger she carries strapped to her chest. She manages to slip the knife out, but right at that moment the Surari pulls her down another inch, and the blade falls out of reach. I try to take a hold of the dagger strapped around my ankle, but I can’t quite stretch far enough. Maybe Elodie …

“My
sgian-dubh
!” I mutter, my hands grabbing at the frosty leaves, at the soil, trying to hold on to something, anything. I spit blood.

Elodie understands at once and lifts herself up on her arms, kicking back as hard as she can. She twists herself at an impossible angle and reaches towards my legs. She must have freed one of her ankles, because I see her leg is bent behind her. Her heavy breathing is in my ear as she grabs at my knee, my calf and finally my ankle – I feel her fingers working around the strap, but the demon pulls down again and both my feet are buried deeper. I’m slowly being buried alive.

“I lost it!” cries Elodie. Her head jerks backwards, and I realize the demon must have both her ankles again and is pulling her down too.

“Back. Soil,” says the rasping voice again. It’s coming from underground, somewhere between Elodie and me. I can sense the thing’s head just there, under a shallow layer of earth.

I dig with one hand, under the leaves, under soil, until a mop of black hair appears. I pull at its hair as hard as I can, and the creature growls in anger. I look over at Elodie, and our eyes meet – she knows at once what I’m trying to do.

I feel the ground frantically with my hands – Elodie is being wrenched further and further underground. “Sean!” she calls. It’s dark, but her face is so white it’s glowing.

Please don’t let Elodie die like this.

Rage burns through me, and with a sudden burst of strength I grab at the black hair again, yanking and ripping until the creature does what I want it to do – it comes to the surface with a jump, in a shower of leaves and earth. Elodie is free – she scrambles to her feet as quickly as she can, panting.

I have a split second to take in the Surari’s face, its sickly white skin that has never seen the light of day, the unseeing eyes, the mouth crowded with black and broken teeth – and then Elodie is on it, with a roar you wouldn’t believe could come from a woman so slight. She lands on the Surari’s stomach, sinking her knees into its chest.

Right at that moment, a second soil demon hauls me under.

Shit.

Almost immediately I’m up to my waist in wet, cold earth, kicking against the weight of the sodden soil. I can only watch as the Surari grabs Elodie by the arms and throws her off. She’s up again in a second, her arms stretched out to take hold of the Surari again, but it’s quicker than her. It has its hands on her hips and its mouth open to take a bite of her stomach.

I don’t have a blade – my fingers will have to do. I lift my hands and start tracing, whispering the secret words, hoping they won’t desert me when I need them most. I try to ignore the dragging at my heels. The exposed Surari moans and squirms for a moment, as if confused, then turns its face towards the source of the pain. I close my eyes and trace harder, whispering as fast as I can without jumbling the words. I can see a red light through my closed eyelids – it’s just for an instant, but it’s definitely red. A car’s tail-lights? A farmer’s tractor lights? I don’t allow myself to open my eyes as my movements get faster and faster – the runes have taken over, carrying me with them. The soil demon growls – I stab and stab again without touching it, and the creatures howls in pain.

All of a sudden, I can’t breathe anymore – my mouth is full of soil. Muffled sounds, my lungs exploding – there’s no air, no air. It can’t be. I can’t die like this, buried alive. I can’t.

“Elodie …” I try to say, but as I open my lips soil gets in my mouth and down my throat and I begin to suffocate. I cough. My chest is in agony.

Who’s going to look after Sarah?

There’s only darkness around me, and cold, and I can’t even move a finger. A thought hits me, as clear as ice:
I’m dead. I’m dead.

But there’s another jerking movement, less hard this time – and different. Different because it pulls me up towards the surface and not down towards a wet, black tomb.

“Sean!”

The voice is muffled. Something is grabbing at my fingers, hard, and is yanking me upwards with a scream of rage and terror and a voice that belongs to Elodie.

I can make out the words. “
Niryana prati Surari
!” the voice is saying. “
Niryana
!” I recognize it as one of the battle cries of the Secret Families, in the ancient language. Whatever had been wrapped around my ankles suddenly lets go – and the blessed, blessed hand that pulls me upwards grabs my wrists – my lungs are bursting, exploding with pain – how long can a man survive without air? Not much longer. And then, with a final terrible effort, a million stars explode over my head and I’m staring at the night sky, and breathing, breathing deeply, painfully, like a baby who breathes for the first time.

“Sean! Sean!” Elodie’s hands are brushing the soil away from my eyes.

I splutter and cough, and turn my head to throw up soil and bile. I gulp in fresh air at once, then spit some more and inhale some more, until my head stops splitting and my lungs stop screaming.

“Are you OK? Sean, are you OK?” Elodie says over and over again – she’s terrified, I can hear it in her voice. So much to lose. So much more than when there were hundreds of us hunting – now every loss is a disaster to humanity.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” I wipe my mouth with my sleeve. I’m covered in mud, and wriggling little creatures fall out of my hair as I sit up.

“That was close,” she whispers.

“Did you see someone? Did someone see us?”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw a red light. I thought maybe a car.”

Elodie shakes her head. “There was no car. It was you. Your runes. There was a red light.” She waves her slender fingers in the air. “Like a ribbon.”

I have no idea what she’s talking about, and no time to ponder. “The soil demons?”

“One is dead.” She points to a lifeless bundle lying not far from us – it’s curled up in a ball, its white skin gleaming feebly. Its lips are blue. Elodie has poisoned it. Black liquid is pouring from where I’d stabbed it with my runes.

“The other?”

“I don’t—”

A hand spurts out of the soil like a monstrous root, and another, fumbling at her legs – and then a head, growling and sniffing the air for flesh. But this time I’m ready – I slip my
sgian-dubh
out of its strap and start tracing the runes once more.

The Surari lifts itself up in fury and leaps at me – I raise my dagger, placing an invisible barrier between us. The creature growls and holds its throat where I have slashed it open, black liquid spurting from the severed flesh.

“You buried me alive, you bastard!” I scream.
What am I doing? Speaking to the Surari, like Sarah?

“Back soil … Me … back soil.”

“
Niryana
!” yells Elodie again.

“Elodie! No!” But it’s too late. She’s thrown herself on the demon, as agile as a cat. But she is no match for it. The Surari grabs her hair, its mouth is open.

I have no choice. I launch myself towards the creature to stop it biting Elodie.

But there’s no need. Before I can reach it I see Elodie’s lips, black as the night, touch the Surari’s rotten, pale ones. Its arms, posed to claw the flesh off her bones, flail and fall to its sides. The demon clutches at its throat as its mouth darkens, a blue-black tinge slowly spreading over its face. It collapses, squirming on the ground, and I’m shocked, I’m speechless as I see something on its face.