beats per minute (23 page)

‘Why?’

‘Raegan,’ Bree began soothingly, ‘I’d really rather not get
into-‘

‘It’s just that when you said you knew I was following you
from before you stepped into Max’s house, it reminded me what you said earlier.
Something weird.
‘I do it, and then you do it.’’

‘Oh, that.’ Her friend gave a tinny laugh.
‘Nothing.
Max can be tricky, that’s all-‘

‘You’re lying!’ Raegan’s voice was very loud. ‘You’re doing
something on Max’s orders, something to do with me, and you thought that I was
doing it to you.’

 ‘We’re going to the hospital wing, Raegan. Come on.’

 ‘No, Bree. Look, I was honest with you- and if Max is
making you do something-‘

Bree grabbed her arm. She ignored Raegan’s question,
dragging her towards the concealed doorway. ‘We’re leaving.’

Raegan struggled against her. ‘I’m not going anywhere until
you tell me what’s going on!’

‘You’re going whether you like it or not.’

Her eyes were stinging with pain but Raegan refused to be
cowed. ‘So that’s your answer to everything, is it? Use your fists to get what
you want?’

That stopped her. With a shocked expression, she looked down
at her hand on Raegan’s arm. ‘I’m sorry! Raegan, I-‘

‘I thought we were mates.’ Raegan said quietly.

‘We are!’

‘You’re hurting me.’

Bree dropped her hand immediately. For a moment they stared
at each other, less than a foot apart, neither daring to move.

‘This is not on.’ Raegan said finally, rubbing her
arm.  ‘And it’s not like you. I thought you were just angry because I was
following you, but it’s more than that. What are you hiding?’

Bree wouldn’t look at her. All she could see were her
reddened eyelids and the pulse jumping in her neck.

Suddenly Raegan felt very tired. She had class early in the
morning. Her nose was broken. Her arm was red and sore. She had been out in the
cold for hours. Why was she even bothering?

‘Have it your way.’ Raegan used the heel of her palm to rub
her sore eyes before wearily letting the arm drop. ‘I’m going. I thought we
were friends, but if you won’t even talk to me, I guess I was wrong.’

Heart heavy, she had gone through the door and was almost
halfway down the path when Bree’s strangled plea, high on the air, drifted to
her.

 ‘Wait!’

Bree would know from the halt in her footsteps that Raegan
had stopped moving.

‘I’ll do more than tell,’ she continued. ‘If you come back –
I’ll show you.’

Exhausted but still wired after an illicit poker game with a
few of Warwick’s Skipper pals, Warwick and Declan had unwisely resisted the urge
to collapse into bed. Instead, they were heading back to Warwick’s room, beers
in hand and – for no other reason than that they were starving and it was all
they could find in the kitchen– a plate of pink wafers, most of which were now
slathered in peanut butter.

Already pretty drunk, the cadets weaved up the path, talking
over each other. They did not notice the man coming from the other direction
until it was too late.

‘Shit!’ The plate of pink wafers flew up into the air and
smashed on the floor, scattering biscuits everywhere. Giggling, Declan fell to
his knees, his first priority to his stomach. He reached a clumsy hand toward
the crushed confectionery.

 
‘Cookies overboard!
Ow,
Warwick, what are you doing? We have to save them-
‘ Warwick’s
hand was like a steel band around Declan’s arm, tugging him upwards.

Then Declan realised why. Back on his feet, he saluted
sheepishly. ‘Optio Rico.’

Rico glared back at him.
‘Out of my way.’

Declan was all too happy to leap off the path, feeling as if
he’d had a lucky escape. But Warwick didn’t move.

‘Optio… forgive my speaking out of turn, but are you ok?’

‘You heard me. Move it. Don’t make me drag your asses back
to Centurion House with me.’

‘But you should be at the Infirmary,’ Warwick replied
stubbornly. Declan could hardly believe his ears. Why was Warwick pushing this?
If Rico was in a bad mood, he’d have
them
running laps
all through the night. Declan stared blearily at the senior officer through a
haze of alcohol. Even the darkness couldn’t hide the scowl on his face. Yep,
Rico was definitely in a bad mood.

But actually, Declan thought, peering at the optio, he also
looked kind of beat up. The mean eyes were half-
closed,
his face was puffy… and was that blood on his shirt?

‘I don’t have time for this shit,’ Rico growled. He leaned
into Warwick as if he was going to force the younger man off the path, but at
the last moment he appeared to lose balance. A yelp of pain escaped his lips
and he keeled over, grabbing on to his ribs.

‘Sir!’
Warwick rushed forward, catching
the optio before he fell. ‘Declan, help me!’

With his arms around their shoulders, the cadets supported
Rico until they reached a nearby bench. He collapsed onto it, panting.

‘I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute,’ he mumbled. After a second
he squinted up at them. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got a cigarette?’

For a moment Warwick looked shocked, and then he snorted
disbelievingly. ‘Sure.
Whatever you need.’

The match flared. Rico took a long drag.

‘Will you boys help me back to my digs?’

Declan could tell it pained Rico to ask for help; but he
shook his head, jumping in before Warwick could. ‘Not unless you tell us what’s
going on.’

Warwick shot a warning look at Declan, but Rico laughed.
‘You’re a stubborn little pisser, aren’t you?’

Declan shrugged.

‘Fine.
I’ll keep it short and
sweet.’ Rico exhaled a shaky cloud of smoke. ‘I was meant to be on duty here at
Prime tonight but I blew it off. Shifter buddy of mine was organising a cage
fight just outside the port. I got a tip off and thought I could make some
extra cash.
Was a done deal.
Anyway, I won. But that’s
not all that was waiting for me out there.’

Declan didn’t catch his meaning right away. Warwick did.
‘How many?’

‘Just one.
But he was a mean son of
a bitch.
Ambushed me.
I got the kill in the end but he
took a chunk of me with him. End of story.’

‘But-‘

‘But nothing.
I’ll heal, he won’t.
Now I gotta get some rest.’

‘That’s not protocol.’ Warwick took a deep breath. ‘You have
to go straight to the Praetor. File a report-’

Rico’s eyes glinted dangerously. ‘Are you brain dead, son?
Tell the Praetor that I bribed a Skipper to cover my duty and scooted off into
town? He’d hang me out to dry.’

 ‘If the Fay
are
getting close
to Unit Prime you don’t have a choice.’

‘There was only one.’ Rico said uneasily.
‘Some
chancer.
I took care of him. Ain’t no threat that I can see.’

He staggered to his feet. ‘I’ll see myself back to Centurion
House. You two can keep your mouths shut.’

‘We can’t.’ Declan was surprised how certain his friend
sounded. His back was straight; his head was held high. ‘If you won’t tell the
Praetor, we will.’

Rico seemed to hesitate for a second. Then he laughed
nastily, smoke pluming from his nostrils. ‘Sure, hot stuff. You march right
over there, left right, left right, GI Joe to the rescue! Only I don’t think
the Praetor is going to be mighty impressed with your testimony. You know,
seeing as you happen to be out after curfew.
And drunk as a
skunk.’

‘We’re not drunk.’

Rico held up the six-pack that had fallen in the collision
and Declan knew they were beat. ‘Howdya explain this, then?’

Warwick didn’t say anything.

‘Didn’t think so.’
The optio’s
smugness almost distracted from the shallow sound of his breathing and the fact
that he was beginning to sway. ‘I’m done. And if you know what’s good for you,
you are, too. Got it?’

‘Yes,’ Warwick said, through gritted teeth.

‘Yes,
sir.’

‘Yes, sir.’

***

Leaning out of his fourth floor, basking in the calmness of
the pre-dawn sky, Warwick took a sharp drag on his cigarette. ‘Never should have
asked where he’d been, Dec. Officers are officers. We don’t need to get
involved in that.’

‘You’re the one who got involved, going on about the
infirmary,’ a still tipsy Declan protested.

‘I didn’t know what he’d been up to.’

‘Yeah well, now we do. And now we have something on him.’

‘We have our word. You know that counts for jack.’

‘Must count for something or he wouldn’t have turned on us.
Rico’s an asshole, but he’s not a stupid asshole. He was scared.’

‘Hum.’ Warwick didn’t sound convinced. ‘I’ve known him
longer than you. He won’t forget this.’

‘Even better that we have something to bargain with, then.
In case he does squeal about the beer.’

Declan was crouched on the floor, flipping through Warwick’s
DVDs. After a moment he stopped. ‘What about the Fay?
Should
we tell
someone?’

‘Forget about that.’ Warwick closed the window with a bang.

‘But-‘

‘I mean it, man. Forget it.’ Declan looked up in surprise.
Warwick never snapped. And true to form his friend softened immediately, adding,
‘Sorry. Look, it’s late. I need to get some sleep.’

Declan glanced at his friend uneasily. He still wasn’t
convinced that keeping quiet was the best thing to do. But who was he to think
he knew better than his superiors? He was just a worm at the bottom of the
Sentinel food chain. He wasn’t ready to be a hero.

Maybe Warwick was right. The officers knew what they were
doing.

He got to his feet, forcing a smile. ‘
You
need to get
some sleep! I have to sweat my ass off in Bikram yoga in
two hours
.’

‘At least Raegan will feel equally terrible. Saw her coming
up the path just a second ago.’ Relieved at the change of subject, Warwick
flopped onto the bed with a yawn. The frame rattled loudly in protest.

‘Alone?’

Warwick grinned in spite of himself, unable to resist
pushing Declan’s buttons.
‘Nope.’
He paused just
enough for it to irritate him, before continuing, ‘She was with Bree.’

Declan turned back to the shelves.

‘You can borrow that DVD if you like,’ Warwick squinted up
at him. Declan realised he was still clutching
Donnie Darko.

‘Thanks,’ he replied vaguely.

‘Hit the lights on your way out, would ya?’ Warwick pulled a
pillow over his face, voice thick with sleep. ‘I’m beat. That was some night.’

‘Sure was. See you, man.’ Declan flipped the switch and closed
the door quietly behind him.

He headed down the stairs but did not go in the direction of
his room. Instead, he halted by the corridor windows, swigging on the last of
the beer. He scanned the grounds for a glimpse of red hair.

He was still stood there, gazing at nothing, when the first
rays of sun burst through the glass. Dawn flared in his tired green eyes,
illuminating the hourglass pendant that swung loosely from his hand.

***

Raegan dreamed of flames.

Tall tongues of fire licked up the side of the huge
structure.  The heat lapped at her toes, and even though she was inside
and she knew she would not be burnt, she was afraid.

Suddenly, the glass in front of her began to crack, and
sand was spilling all over. It was filling her nose and eyes as it threw her
forward against the splintering glass; she would be cast out soon, cast out
into the flames...

And then it lurched, and she became aware of a groaning
above her, and now to the side of her, as the vast structure teetered and
buckled under the heat. She was thrown over as, with a crash, it toppled over
completely: and for the first time she could see clearly where she was.

The huge hourglass that had given her shelter was now on its
side. There, in the other chamber, was a movement: an arm, thrashing about.
There was another person inside!

The flames were roaring outside now, smoke seeping in
through the cracks in the glass, lifting the thick carpet of sand to dance on
the hot air. She squinted against the rising fug, the dense heat a choking,
blinding haze. ‘I can see you!’ she shouted desperately at the person in the
other chamber. ‘I’m here!’

I should be in there; we shouldn’t be alone, she thought,
irrationally, crossly, but with certainty. She wasn’t sure who to direct her
rage at –but she knew she was right. The smoke forced her to her knees but her
cries did not cease: ‘I’ll find a way to you! Two halves should be whole! Two
halves-‘

The tinny sound of the alarm crashed into her subconscious
and Raegan instinctively threw a leaden arm out to turn it off. Her pillow was
soggy with sweat and tears when she leaned back against it. Without thinking
she lifted her hands to her eyes, sure that her fingers would be burnt and
sore. They weren’t, of course... but the nightmare had been so real.

There was no time to think about it. She was already late.
Knackered, she had fallen into bed just before dawn; thankfully Yali had an
urgent meeting with the Praetor that morning and so Bikram had been delayed
until eight - but it was now seven forty and she had only twenty minutes to
make it to the studio.

It took supreme will-power to force
herself
into a cold shower and then out into the chilly morning air. Frustrated and
jumpy, she peered through her wet fringe up at Bree’s window as she passed.

The curtains were closed.

***

The day, hard and bright, was filled with the shadows of the
previous night; but in the face of the sun these were wispy and unbelievable. The
horror of Raegan’s nightmare hung around, too, hazily merging with real
memories. It was crazy. The entire night had been like a trick of the mind.

 She had said as much to Bree at the time.

‘This is unreal,’ Raegan commented. It was the first time
she had spoken since returning to the courtyard. It was also a sound
observation seeing as one of the walls in the courtyard had just parted in the
middle, sliding back to reveal a narrow set of winding steps.

Bree, sucking her index finger, nodded. The creation of the
doorway required a blood sacrifice; no ‘abracadabras’ or the waving of wands
here. Bree had to prick her finger, use the drops of blood to quench the candle
flame – and then an entrance to who knew where would appear.

 ‘Unreal’ didn’t quite capture it, actually, Raegan
decided. This was mental.

The moonlight glinted off Bree’s glossy hair as she stepped
into the entrance. Despite the slight puffiness around the eyes, her smooth
face was eerily beautiful in the greenish half-light of the tunnel. ‘You’ll be
safe,’ she said simply, ‘but I can’t promise that it will be easy. You’ll need
to trust me.’

Raegan hesitated, remembering her stay inside the Armoury
store cupboard. She hated confined spaces.

There was also pride. It was probably completely loserish to
feel flattered that Bree would bring her along; the popular girl inviting the
class nerd for tea at her house.  But she did. And she wanted to be there
for her friend.

‘I’m coming,’ Raegan said decisively, trying to appear
confident by marching into the entrance.
‘Lead on, Macduff.’

They didn’t speak much. As they headed down into the abyss,
all of Raegan’s concentration went into keeping her footing on the worn,
misshapen
steps  –
no easy feat for a
first-timer, particularly when closeted in almost complete darkness. She just
about managed, but it was still a big relief when she finally stepped out
beside Bree into an underground room bathed in an unearthly blue light.

Bree held out an arm to stop her from walking any further.

‘Enchantments,’ she said, and pressed her finger into the
wall. Off Raegan’s puzzled face, she added, ‘There’s dried blood on it, still.
That’s all the room needs to identify me.’

And just as Raegan was puzzling over the weirdness of that
idea the room changed before her eyes: the light shifted subtly but rapidly,
bleeding from blue to a warm, welcoming gold.