Dark Heart Rising (19 page)

Why had they not called for a search for him? Why had they let him disappear into the darkness?

What had Gabriel done to be treated like that?

This place, this place – far from being a beacon of morality, had its own share of corruption, of dishonesty. And yet it dared to preach to its people about loyalty, to family and state; about curbing impulses, urges, power; about the importance of marrying, breeding within the various breeds. The boy realised that he had been living under a vast misapprehension over the years. That it was time for the truth to be uncovered.

Time for Nissilum to be set free.

‘T
his is getting rather boring now, dear.’ Vanya folded her exquisite silk dressing gown around her. ‘I thought you had resigned yourself to a life of mundane mortality.’ She sighed, turning her attention to Soren, who had helped himself to a plate of caviar and toast. ‘How did you convince her to come back?’

Soren swallowed a mouthful of food, then brushed his lips with a napkin. ‘I did nothing. It was Luca who called her back.’

‘Luca?’ Vanya drew out a seat, more animated now. ‘Tired of his paramour already.’ She glanced warily at Soren, who was frowning.

‘Leave her out of it, Vanya. She is a separate issue.’

‘Whatever.’ Vanya waved her hand about dismissively. ‘The point is, the boy is still pining for Jane.’

Soren flashed an odd sort of look at me.

‘I don’t know what he was trying to tell me – it wasn’t like before. But I first came to know Luca in my dreams,’ I told them. ‘It was the way he communicated with me, before we actually met.’

‘Was it a dream?’

‘That’s just it. I felt as though I was awake … But then that’s how I felt before.’ I shook my head, feeling a bit muddled about it all now.

‘The wedding is not far off – you must act quickly if you have any chance …’ Vanya narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. ‘Though whether it actually happens or not.’

‘What do you mean?’ Soren and I spoke together.

‘Just that there seems to be something going on at the Celestial Palace.’ She needlessly lowered her voice. ‘Cadmium appears to be unwell. And the boy – Raphael – has been pacing around in a state of some distress.’

‘How do you know?’ Soren arched an eyebrow.

‘Valdar has been advising Celeste on the renovation of the Great Room and has been privy to some palace gossip.’ Vanya nodded at me. ‘He says there are whispers in the higher echelons of the Angelic circles. The tension in the palace has been palpable these past couple of weeks. With no fit heir to take over from Cadmium, Celeste is wringing her hands.’

‘But what about Evan – I mean, Raphael?’ I asked. ‘He’s the rightful heir, isn’t he?’

‘Technically, yes. But what sort of a leader would he make? All that ghastly business …’ She gave a disdainful little shake of her head.

‘So what are you saying?’ Soren changed tack, thankfully. ‘That there will be no wedding because the Celestial family are going through turmoil?’

‘Who knows?’ She inspected her fingernails. ‘That boy has been snooping around in affairs of state, I hear. I don’t trust him. Nor, I imagine, does his great-mother.’

‘Wedding or not, I have to try and see him,’ I said. ‘Alone, I think.’ I glanced at the two of them apologetically. ‘No offence.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Vanya. ‘You won’t get anywhere near him … Or if you do, that headstrong brother of his will be on you like a tonne of bricks.’

‘But if it was him, last night? He might be expecting me …’

‘Henora is no doubt watching him like a hawk … No, no – you must have some kind of plan. You cannot go storming over to his house. Apart from the fact that you would never find it before a creature of the night got to you first, you will have his entire, vitriolic family to deal with.’

‘She’s right – let me come with you.’ Soren looked a little imploringly at me. ‘Perhaps Lila is—’

‘Be careful,’ hissed Vanya, getting up from her seat, clutching at her dressing gown. ‘The girl does not know you – you must approach with extreme caution.’ She put her hand on his arm. ‘Remember what you did.’

Soren closed his eyes, clearly doing just that. He nodded briefly before opening them again.

‘No … I see that. But I came back here for Lila.’ He paused. ‘To make amends and to stop this “marriage”.’ He looked down at the floor. ‘It was always my intention to tell her who I am.’

‘But you have to somehow get her alone,’ I said. ‘How do you think Henora will react if she finds out before you have had a chance to win Lila over again? She will see to it that you are locked up before you get the chance. And you will never see Lila again.’

Vanya cleared her throat. ‘Jane is right. You both need to choose your moment. Away from the Hunter wolves – or at least the parents. I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but that is your only chance.’

Soren and I had the same hopeless expression on our faces.

‘Tomorrow is the Celestial Parade,’ she went on. ‘The whole area will be teaming with all manner of pathetic loyalists …’ Then her eyes widened, and she put an elegant hand to her mouth. ‘And the ideal occasion to mingle unnoticed in the crowds.’

‘Perfect,’ said Soren. ‘Jane, you had better borrow something from Vanya. You’re going to stand out a mile in jeans and sneakers.’

Vanya visibly perked up, tying the cord of her gown neatly and beckoning to me. ‘No time like the present dear – let’s get you kitted out.’

‘I don’t know …’

‘Don’t look so concerned,’ she said, with a chuckle. ‘We want you to go unnoticed, yet make an engaging impression at the same time.’

‘This is serious, Vanya …’ Soren said darkly. ‘Please.’

‘Yes, yes.’ She sighed. ‘I won’t let you down.’

Trusting Vanya did not come naturally to me, but I had no choice. I had to take every opportunity to find out the truth. Before all hope was dashed. For good.

It was a beautiful clear, bright day – nearly autumn – and the colours in the trees that lined the long road to the palace were muted orange and fading green; lovely and understated. Walking from Vanya’s house, Soren and I fell behind a group of women, taking up the full breadth of the cobbled street. Beyond them stretched the road that Soren and I had walked down what seemed weeks ago, but in fact was just a matter of days.

The women gossiped with each other in excitable hissing tones. I recognised one, smaller than the rest, a thatch of wild bird’s-nest hair atop her head. Tilly. I shrank back, sure she would recognise me. Soren looked down at me, frowning.

‘I know that witch,’ I said, grimacing. ‘She caused a scene at the Great Ball …’

Soren craned forward to take a better look at her.

‘She’s a midget,’ he said. ‘Harmless, I’d bet.’

‘Don’t be so sure … if she rumbles me now then the whole day will be ruined.’ I lowered my head, lifting the hood of the cape Vanya had leant me over my head.

‘Well, don’t do that!’ hissed Soren. ‘That really will draw attention to yourself.’ I sighed and eased the hood off again. Vanya had scraped my hair back into a tight bun; so painfully tight I wondered if she had done it on purpose. And then she had placed the short dark wig, a bob with a blunt fringe, over the top of it.

‘Do you want to be instantly recognised?’ she’d said, pulling my hair up from my neck and examining it. ‘All this hair is rather lovely if you like that sort of messy milkmaid kind of thing. But no good at all, if you want to stay incognito.’

‘You look good,’ Soren told me, taking my arm to slow us down a little. ‘Very sophisticated.’

I sniffed. I dreaded to think what I looked like. I’d caught a glimpse of myself after Vanya had spent hours doing make-up. All I saw was heavy black kohl and dark red lipstick.

‘I look like a vampire,’ I said, trying to keep the disdain out of my voice. ‘It’s weird.’

‘You still have those lovely grey eyes.’ He stared straight ahead of him as he spoke, thankfully. I didn’t know how to deal with compliments from Soren. He always seemed so intense, yet the next minute he would be smiling facetiously.

‘Remember, keep by my side,’ he went on in a low voice. ‘And try not to engage with anyone – not until it is safe.’

At the thought of seeing Luca again, face to face, I felt a bubble of excitement. I touched Soren’s hand.

‘What will you do if she is there?’ I asked. ‘Lila?’

I looked quickly at his profile. His mouth set impassively, deliberately. ‘I’m sorry, Soren. I can’t imagine what it must feel like …’

‘Don’t pity me. Pity my poor sister.’ He squeezed my hand and the touch of his fingers felt good. Reassuring and cool.

There were shouts ahead of us, boisterous. I put my hand to my chest.

‘Lowe,’ I hissed. ‘We need to turn back.’

‘Keep calm.’ Soren kept his hand on mine. ‘You’re getting paranoid.’

‘I wonder why …’ I looked furtively around me. We were hemmed in now, clusters of – well, I didn’t know what they were. Vampires? Witches? Werewolves?

‘I’m seriously beginning to think this was a bad idea,’ I muttered. ‘What was I thinking?’

‘You were thinking that you hadn’t given up yet.’ Soren leaned in to talk into my ear. ‘You get the merest hint of a sign from Luca – that he still feels that bond with you – and you’re willing to go back on your refusal to come back here … That was what you were thinking.’

‘OK.’ I sighed. ‘The truth is I am nervous … I don’t want to find Luca and realise it meant nothing after all.’

‘Trust in your power,’ said Soren, sounding very much like Vanya. ‘Look – we’re approaching the palace. See the gates?’

I peered through the witches in front of us. The palace was fronted by a large torch – like an Olympic torch – which blazed impressively in front of the main gate. Either side stood lines of people dressed in pale yellow military-like uniforms. Men and women of all ages, standing perfectly still, arms poker-straight by their sides.

‘Impressive,’ I said, taking in four riders on horses at the far ends of each line. I squinted and my heart leaped into my throat.

‘He’s there.’ I nudged Soren, who followed my gaze.

‘He’s part of the parade,’ I said, my heart sinking back to its regular position. ‘It’s hopeless.’

‘There must be some kind of communal banquet afterwards – there usually is at these events,’ Soren said, still staring over at the horses. ‘I imagine Luca will be attending that.’ He turned to look at me. ‘Don’t look so anxious, you’re a very convincing vampire.’

‘Kind of what I’m worried about,’ I said, wishing more than ever I could see just how ridiculous I looked.

‘Come.’ Soren took hold of my hand, pulling me with him through the crowds. In the tight suede boots Vanya had insisted I wear my legs felt constricted. They laced all the way up over my knees. I winced.

‘Bring me my sneakers,’ I murmured.

‘Rubbish, you look rather … sexy,’ Soren pulled me faster, giving me no time to dwell on the flush that crept over my face.

Eventually he stopped and I realised we were right at the front of the throng looking at the people in yellow – and right in the eyeline of the boys on horseback. A flash of blond hair stood out. Raphael, sitting erect and somewhat haughty-looking, to our right. His eyes seemed to be trained on some point in the distance behind us.

I couldn’t quite make out the rest of the horsemen, and allowed my gaze to roam to the left, half dreading, half hoping that I would meet Luca’s eyes head on. But the rest of the boys were staring straight ahead too. If it hadn’t been for his still floppy brown hair and delicately boned face, I would not have recognised him.

But then, just for the briefest second, I saw his head drop and almost imperceptibly, his eyes catch hold of mine.

I
nwardly, Raphael’s mind was whirring and, though the crowds were there in front of him, cheering, happy to be part of this seasonal event, he barely registered them. At any moment, the bugle would sound, and he would take his position in front of the Celestial military. His grandparents were making their way to the balcony, too fragile today to face the people at close proximity. A bubble of anger coursed up through him. All this ridiculous pomp and ceremony. And he, who had been lied to for years, was representing the great and honourable Celestial family.

He cleared his throat, glancing over to the left, where the most skilled riders in this part of Nissilum sat astride their horses, patiently. He allowed a longer glance at Luca, whose handsome face looked sad. The Luca Raphael had known as a boy had been calm and smiling, and it had always irritated him. He realised now he had been envious. Still was.

But lately the wolf-boy seemed to have … paled. He was sombre. Unhappy.

Beyond Luca was Lowe. An insouciant look on his face. Now there was a fool. So caught up in machismo, patriotism, that he was blinded to the point.

The point that Nissilum was little better than a prison. More oppressive than the tiny basement room in which Raphael had spent the months after his father’s death, half mad with grief, and confusion.