beats per minute (32 page)

She had forgotten how comforting a cuddle could be.
Even an awkward cuddle with somebody who really wasn’t used to
giving them.
Even when it was a little like two skeletons linking bones.
Jasper was naturally skinny, but she had lost so much weight recently that her
ribs now bumped against his.

With a final, tight squeeze, he stepped away. His voice was
gruff. ‘You can stay here as often as you want.’

‘Thanks, but I’m not sure Max would agree.’ She blew her
nose noisily. ‘I’m lucky no-one caught me last night. Our curfews are so strict
since Carrigaline.’ She glanced at the clock and then relaxed. It was only
5.30am. There was still an hour before she had to be anywhere. ‘I can’t believe
I have to go to class today. As if everything’s normal. What a joke.’

‘Surely you’re going to tell someone now?
If
not Max, how about Robert?
Or someone more senior, that Russian guy, you
get on well with him-‘

‘Yali?
No. It wouldn’t do any good.
All the teachers are angry with us-‘

‘Come off it, they wouldn’t be so petty-‘

‘
And
besides, I don’t have any proof that it is
Declan!’ She spoke louder and louder to blot out Jasper’s interruptions. ‘I
need to wait for more clues.’ It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Jasper
that she had tried using the Trace on the pigeon but nothing had happened.
Maybe it didn’t work with animals. Even if it did, it was not something she was
going to try again anytime soon. With a shudder, she recalled the cold
stiffness of the pigeon’s corpse beneath her fingers. The note had also yielded
nothing to her touch.

If she did have some skill with time-recall, it had deserted
her now.

Jasper did not notice her preoccupation. ‘Would you listen
to
yourself!
Your security is the most important
thing, Raegan. Who gives a fig about Declan – it doesn’t matter if it’s him
behind this or someone else! The point is
,
someone
is doing these things to
you
. And if that note is anything to go by,
it’s only going to get worse, and ‘soon’. You need to be protected. You can’t
put your own safety behind some nutty witch-hunt!’

Angry tears sprang to Raegan’s eyes. Why didn’t anyone
understand? She wanted to scream at Jasper that she wasn’t crazy or
overreacting. She was simply sick and tired of feeling like this; swamped by
the insecurity that had plagued her since she set foot in Unit Prime, the
outsider, the newcomer, the latecomer. And underneath all this latent unease,
stirring, exacerbating, like a nail picking at a scab, was Declan Kane. She
might never know why he was out to get her, if it was because of the Trace or
because he just didn’t like her - but it was clear to her now that he was
dangerous.

All she needed was proof.

Perhaps sensing that Raegan was on the verge of storming
out, Jasper changed tack. ‘We can talk more about that later. You’ve had a
terrible night and quite a scare. If we keep going over it it’ll only upset
you.
Permission to change the subject for a mo?’

Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded. All she wanted to
do was leave; but Jasper was already on his feet and hurrying excitedly over to
an unfamiliar corner of the warehouse. Pull yourself together, she told herself
sharply, arranging her features into an interested expression.

 As he waited for her to join him, Jasper lingered by
what appeared to be a vast set of velvet curtains suspended from runners
attached to the bars hanging from the ceiling. Catching sight of her
expression, mistaking it for curiosity, he grinned. ‘Bloody odd thing to have
in a place like this,
ent
it? Sometimes we have to
store objects that are old and light-sensitive. Rare artefacts and such like.
For special weapons.
Anyway,’ he cleared his throat. ‘Seeing
as I’ve got you here, at last. Without further ado-‘

With a flourish he yanked the tasselled cord. Nothing
happened. Furrowing his brow like he wanted to do nothing more than strangle
the prop for misbehaving, he gripped it more firmly and pulled down. The rope,
old and frayed, came clean apart in the middle, sending him stumbling
backwards.

A giggle forced its way out of her mouth. Smiling for what
felt like the first time in weeks, she walked over, holding out her hand. ‘You
don’t have to keep falling at my feet, you know.’

‘Very funny,’ he sighed, allowing her to pull him up. ‘All
part of my cunning plan to cheer you up. Did it work?’

‘Might have done.
You twit!’ The smile
was still on her face. She squeezed Jasper’s arm as she led him back to the
curtains, a silent thanks for this happy distraction. ‘Now, what’s the big
surprise?’

Feeling better, Raegan was happy to let her attention wander
while Jasper busied himself trying to salvage the situation. She found that her
gaze was drawn to the oddly magnificent drop of the faded and musty curtains;
scanning up and down, she felt her eyes being pulled over, over, until they
found what they were searching for.
The tasselled cord,
hanging limply just above her head, the other half lying coiled and lifeless on
the dusty floor below.

There was something familiar about it. Curiously, she
reached out her hand.

And then something odd happened.

She had grown more used to her mind playing tricks on her
since beginning the training; had even learned to relax into it. But the flash
of green that swooped into her vision now was weird even for her. It was not
Sukey, it was not a vision,
it
was not something to do
with the Trace.

Was it just a trick of the light?

Puzzled, she continued to contemplate the rope, setting it
swinging with her fingers. Without thinking, she stretched up, curling her hand
firmly around it as if about to climb.

An eerie sense of déjà vu took over. She was remembering
something. Something about this moment was familiar – had she already
experienced it in a dream? Was something about to happen?

And then another flash.
But this
time it was in 3D: her surroundings melted away, and she was holding onto
another rope. There was the sound of water hitting the glossy, green surfaces
of the canopy of leaves surrounding her. There was the freshly pungent smell of
damp earth and chilled air.

Something was about to happen. But it was something that had
already happened, weeks ago, in the Labyrinth...

The sight played before her eyes as clear as day. She
remembered the few remaining strands that held the rope together, allowing her
to climb as high as she did. The rope intended for her use. She remembered how,
with only a few metres left to climb, it had given away beneath her hands. She
remembered flailing, grasping, as the useless end she clung to slipped,
cleanly, from its other half. She remembered the terrifying feeling of her
fingers meeting nothing but whistling air as she plummeted toward the ground.

That rope, juxtaposed on this cord, wavered in her mind’s
eye. Its closeness to the other made the crucial differences plain. This rope
was ragged, frayed, tattered. It had come apart due to old age. That rope was
clean, sawed with precision aside from a few hanging strands.

That rope had been cut.

Raegan wrestled with her conscience all the way into Block
4B. As she walked up the stairs, she was still trying to convince herself that
what she was doing wasn’t
really
illegal. Sure, she was going to break
into Declan’s room; but she had just cause! He was a thief, at the very least.
She could always argue that she was going to get her necklace back. She had a
solid reason, not like the last time - and she hadn’t broken in on that
occasion even when she’d had the chance.

The excuses sounded lame even to her. But this is why I need
proof, she told herself furiously. My gut is telling me that Declan is the root
of it all. He cut the rope; he killed that bird: who knew what he could do
next...

The corridor was dark and gloomy. She shivered and wished
she hadn’t chosen this particular moment to remember the bird. The image of its
bloodstained body, still strong in her mind, never failed to give her the
jitters.

Despite the talking to, when she was stood in front of the
door she couldn’t help but hesitate. Ever since she bolted from the Armoury
this morning she had been fighting with herself; in fact she’d only finally
snapped into action this evening
because she couldn’t
not
.
At short notice many of the teachers had been called away from the Unit on
Sentinel business and supervision was light for the first time since the
lock-down.

Feeling like a real wimp, she tried the handle. Surely it
wouldn’t be that easy: the room would be locked and she would be forced to
break in. It was like a dream when the door slid open with an easy click. She
gaped.

‘Hello?’ she called softly. ‘Declan, are you in here?’

***

Raegan wasn’t the only person skulking around Unit Prime. In
fact, if she hadn’t been so preoccupied during her journey down
the
via
decumana
to Block 4B, she might have
noticed a familiar figure sneaking in the other direction.

Not for the first time, Bree wished it did not take so long
to get into the Tower. Kept under lock and key by Max for the last few days and
expected to indulge his every whim, she was in a vile mood. This did not do
much for her already limited patience.

Constantly checking her watch, she raced through the various
checks. As she was no longer allowed out after curfew, Max had finally relented
and allowed the time restriction facility to be discarded. She could now, in
theory, visit Sukey whenever she wanted.
Except the Praetor
had also designed her new, heavily supervised schedule to be too busy for the
quickest visit.
He loved to dangle the carrot. He who giveth can also
taketh away: Max knew how to hit her where it hurt most.

But it was not only Bree who was paying for this. In denying
her access, Sukey was being punished as well.

Ever-alert and waiting for her chance to escape, Bree’s ears
had pricked up when conversation at the dinner-table turned to the recent,
urgent Sentinel summons - and how strange it was that the Praetor had taken
most of the teachers off-campus when for the last week his top priority had
been Unit security. The last part was not surprising to Bree. Max was cacking
himself that the Sentinel might find out about the cadets sneaking out of camp.
At the end of the day, no matter how much Max wanted the Unit protected, he
wanted to protect himself more.

Max would always look out for number one – as Bree knew only
too well.

But who was left? According to Tyrell, Rico was still on
campus, but otherwise occupied. That left only Ingmar to supervise the seven
cadets, and he had already gone, taking his meal with him to the Library where
he would prepare for the evening study session. It was the first unsupervised
dinner service since their return from Carrigaline. She was gone in the blink
of an eye.

For once she was not concerned about noise. Pushing the
heavy doors open with a bang, she hurried across the chequered floor of the
Tower. Her trainers squeaked against the polished marble in signal of her
haste.  

The room was unpleasantly hot; the traces of sun that had
beat down on the vast dome all day still lingered, not aided by the lamps
burning brightly from alcoves inset into the plinths and each shelf of the
various bookshelves. She placed a hand flat against the cool mahogany base of
Sukey’s usual plinth, steadying herself before swinging to the top. Sukey was
not there. This was not a good sign.

Taking a deep breath, Bree approached the second highest
plinth in the room and began to climb the ladder. When things were particularly
bad Sukey had been known to come here. As ever, she wondered what she would
find when she reached the top: though not particularly religious, she
nonetheless sent a quick plea up to the heavens, praying that she would find
Sukey unharmed. She had been known to scratch her arms raw and pull out clumps
of her hair in sheer panic that Bree would never return.

The sight of Sukey, dressed in a long, pale blue gown, her
dark hair flowing down her back, crosslegged and poring over some book, was
therefore a complete surprise. A deep feeling of happiness spread through Bree.
She looked so well.

‘Sukey,’ she said quietly, not wanting to alarm her.

Sukey looked up at her and smiled; that elusive, dazzling
grin. She was delighted to see her.
‘Bree!’

As her sister scrambled up, arms outstretched, Bree nearly wept.
She had not seen Sukey this lucid for years. She hugged her tighter.

‘Bree, I need to breathe,’ Sukey giggled.

Bree released her with a jolt. ‘Sorry.’

‘You forget how strong you are,’ she remarked, drifting away
to resume her position on top of the cushions. She patted the floor beside her.
‘Come and sit.’

Singularly unused to her sister giving instructions,
particularly ones that made sense, Bree felt as though she was having an out of
body experience. Tentatively, as if one wrong movement could break the spell,
she sank to the floor. ‘I can’t stay very long.’

‘That’s okay,’ Sukey said serenely, leafing through the
pages of the tattered, leather-bound book. It looked ancient. ‘I know what
happened.’

‘Really?
How?’

Another giggle.
‘You told me,
silly. I could hear how worried you were, I was trying and trying to send you a
message back, so you knew that I understood. I knew that the bad man was
keeping you away.’

‘You were in my head?’ Bree looked at her sharply.

Sukey nodded.

‘Suke...’ Bree took her hand. It was small as a child’s.
‘You aren’t supposed to do that. It’s too much of a strain. Only in
emergencies, remember?’

‘Like the other night. I helped, didn’t I?’

‘Very much.’

‘That thing would have hurt you.’

‘I’m lucky to have you looking out for me.’ She tickled
Sukey’s palm, to her sister’s delight. It was wonderful to hear her laugh.

Then Sukey’s face clouded over. ‘I wish I could stop the bad
man hurting you.’

It was as if a shutter had been pulled down behind Bree’s
eyes. ‘It’s okay.’

‘I can feel it,’ Sukey whispered.

‘It’s not the same,’ Bree explained in a strangled voice.
She swallowed,
then
pinched her skin between thumb and
forefinger. ‘The Fay – the thing you warned me about, the one sneaking up on me
– it hurts me here.’ She pinched the skin,
then
pointed to the faint, yellow bruises on her face, just visible now. ‘It gave me
these. Max only hurts me here.’ She pointed to her heart.

Sukey reached out a careful palm. Their hands entwined over
Bree’s chest, clasped above her heart.

‘It’s the only way, Sukey,’ Bree whispered. ‘I have to do
what he wants or he could stop us seeing each other.’

Her sister’s eyes, dark as a unicorn’s, glimmered with
unshed tears.

‘He could take you away from me,’ Bree repeated.

Sat with their foreheads touching, like two moons meeting in
the sky, strength seemed to flow between the two sisters. The longer they
sat,
the better. Restorative and comforting, their closeness
was like a soothing balm on so many open wounds.

Reluctantly Bree extricated herself. ‘I should go. I’ll be
back to see you as soon as I can.’

As she stood up, her eye fell on the book her sister had
been reading. She remembered the intense concentration on Sukey’s face. ‘What
is that, anyway?’

‘A codex,’ Sukey said. She picked it up, frowning. ‘Thank
you for reminding me. I’m meant to give you something.’

‘What do you mean? What can you give me?’

‘A name.’
Sukey’s voice had taken
on the dreamlike quality again. Bree knew what that meant.

She crouched down, anxious to keep Sukey with her.
‘Sukey.
Do you have something for me?’ She took her face in
her hands.

‘Not for you,’ her sister’s eyes were losing focus. She was
slipping through Bree’s fingers.
‘But to give you.
It’s for your friend.’

‘What friend is that?’

‘The one you brought here.’

‘Raegan?’
Bree’s voice took on a
shrill quality. Raegan had not been herself the last few days: withdrawn and
distracted, the bounce all gone out of her. They were so tightly supervised
that Bree had not had one chance to talk to her friend – but she was worried
that something seriously bad had happened in Carrigaline. If Sukey knew
something, curfew could get stuffed. She had to find out what.

‘I was with her in the night. I tried to warn her... but she
did not listen.’ An odd half-smile played at her lips. ‘She loves you. She
would not leave you, though I warned her she must. So she tried to help. And
then she met him.’

‘A Fay?
Sukey, did she lock in with
a Fay?’

‘Yes. But it did not go how she expected.’

‘You’ve lost me.’

‘She has developed feelings. Or rather, she has discovered
feelings that were always there, waiting to come to the surface.’

‘Please concentrate.’ It was not often that Bree grew openly
frustrated with her sister, but this was one of those times. ‘You aren’t making
any sense, Sukey! For goodness sake, stop talking in riddles.’

Sukey looked offended. She continued in her peculiar, formal
manner. ‘I am not talking in riddles! I can only say what I see. She and the
Fay are connected.’

‘He’s her Mark.’

‘So much more than that.
And she
feels it, too. She has been torturing herself. But no-one here can help her.’

‘Why?’

‘Because that knowledge is not theirs to
give.
It has been buried
.‘
Her black eyes
crackled with unearthly light. Bree got the impression that the words in her
mouth were not her own; she was a conduit for something else entirely.
Skittishly, Sukey gestured to the book. ‘What I needed was under Benedictine.’

‘A Benedictine monk?’

‘Yes. We only have catalogues here, did you know that?
References to all the Sentinel libraries.
This one is a
catalogue of names, giving details of all the Regents within holy orders up
until the 1800s. There was only one Benedictine monk. Thomas Wolfe. His
writings were listed underneath; again, only one.
The
Fearful Hands.
This is the text that Raegan seeks, though she
does not know it.’

‘And I should tell her?’

Sukey’s eyes were so dark they seemed to be all
pupil
.
‘Ingmar.
You can summon the
book. She cannot.’

‘Because I’m a tesserarius and I have clearance,’ Bree
finally twigged.
‘
The Fearful Hands.
And
this will help Raegan?’

Her sister just smiled.

‘All of that came from your head?’ Bree asked in wonder.

Sukey’s smile faltered. Something had begun to cloud behind
her eyes: as if a storm was preparing within.  ‘I- I was given a gateway.
A bridge.’
Suddenly, she looked frightened. ‘Please don’t
ask me any more. I...’ Her head tilted upwards as, nervously, she searched for
the stars. ‘I don’t know anything else.’

‘You did very well,’ Bree made soothing noises. ‘Rest, now.’

But Sukey was clutching her head. ‘It’s so loud! But I did
what I was told!’

It was one of Bree’s worst nightmares made flesh: she was
already dangerously pushed for time and now she would be forced to leave Sukey
in hysterics. Please, please, help, she prayed. Don’t make me leave her like
this...

The gods smiled on her. Or perhaps Sukey herself, with those
strange abilities of hers, heard the plea. The shuddering subsided; the moans
quieted; the furrowed brow, damp with sweat, relaxed.

Finally, she let out a shuddering sigh, and then a jumble of
what sounded like Latin: ‘
Timeo Danaos
et
dona ferentes
.’ She was talking in her sleep.
Bree shifted, trying to figure out a way to slide out from underneath without
waking her.

Then the liquid eyes opened.

‘Bree?’

‘I’m here,’ Bree stroked her sister’s forehead.
‘Rest.’

‘When did you get here?’ It was said with pure bewilderment.
The last fifteen minutes might not ever have happened. A huge lump formed in
Bree’s throat.

‘I just popped in to say hello,’ she whispered, leaning
forward and pressing a kiss to Sukey’s forehead, which was warm and
sweet-smelling as a baby’s. ‘Sleep well, darling. See you soon.’

***

The room was empty.

Fumbling for a light switch in the pitch-blackness, Raegan
nearly brained herself by leaning into the sharp edges of a bookcase. Next
moment, she had tripped over a discarded pair of trainers. Sure that she had
given herself away, she shot bolt upright, waiting for the inevitable pounding
feet and roar of discovery.