Authors: Gabriella Poole
Tags: #General, #Juvenile Fiction, #Young Adult Fiction, #Science Fiction; Fantasy; Magic, #YA), #Fantasy & magical realism (Children's
Tears stung her eyes, blurred her red vision, but she didn’t let go.
Tighter. Harder. She focused the force, crushing his neck, not letting him gather himself enough to strike back. A horrible sound was coming from Ranjit’s throat, and he was on both knees now, falling forward.
Something swung forward again, gleaming malevolently in the pale dawn. Writhing jade creatures, frantic now, squirming as if it was them she was choking.
With the last of his strength he twisted his face up to hers. It was full of hate, full of fury, full of thwarted blood-lust, but it was Ranjit’s face.
Ranjit’s
.
Oh,
God
, what was she doing?
With a shriek she released his throat, but in the same motion she looped the disembodied force around the silver chain, yanking it hard. Ranjit gurgled as it jolted him sideways on to the stone floor.
He was beaten. Raising the Pendant with her power, dragging his head till it was once more twisted towards her, till she was hanging him on the thing, she gritted her teeth and snapped the chain.
Ranjit collapsed to the ground. But the Pendant flew clear, hitting the nearest sarcophagus, clattering on to the floor with its broken chain snaking round it.
And then there was silence.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
C
assie began to shake, her hands at her mouth. She didn’t dare look at any of the three unmoving bodies, so she stepped hesitantly closer to the jade Pendant.
It still glowed faintly, with a ghostly green light, but the creatures were frozen in place, motionless. Warily she stepped around it and next to the nearest sarcophagus. The surface of the jade looked so smooth and touchable; her fingers flexed towards it, but then she lifted her hand to her mouth and bit her knuckles.
‘Cassie …?’
She whirled around. The whisper was dazed and shaky. She saw Ranjit half sitting up, rubbing at his bruised neck. Her heart bounded, and she couldn’t repress a cry of relief. She knew instantly. He was himself again. He was Ranjit again.
She fell to her knees beside him, weeping. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’
‘You had to … I … I didn’t mean to …’ He clutched at his head, shaking it, and whispered again, so low she had to lean close to him to hear. Little electric impulses sparked between his skin and hers. She leaned her face against his bleeding head, and put her arms around his trembling shoulders.
Whatever the circumstances, it felt good to touch him again.
‘Oh, God.’ He was barely audible, and he didn’t respond to her touch. ‘Cassie. What have I done?’
‘It’s OK. It’s OK.’
‘No. It isn’t.’
She gulped. Somehow it hadn’t occurred to her that he might remember it all, remember
everything
…
‘I’m s-sorry,’ he croaked. He tried to lift his head to look at Richard and Jake, but Cassie held him fiercely, not letting him see them.
‘I’m telling you, it’s OK. It was the Pendant. The Pendant, it was cursed, it made you …’ She tailed off and kissed his hair, but he flinched away.
He drew a ragged breath, shaking his head violently. ‘It couldn’t have happened without me seeking it out, without me doing it. The m-murders. Somewhere deep inside, that must have been my idea. It must have come from me.’
She could think of nothing to say, so she hugged him harder. It was probably true. Him – and his spirit. It was strong, but it was dark. A personality clash, he’d once said.
A sound, drawing closer, hard to recognise at first. She turned towards it, craning her ears desperately. Was that a car? No, not a car. Could it be a speedboat, out on the quiet night-time Bosphorus? Yes. It was coming from the Academy’s direction, the sound travelling across the otherwise still water; her senses still bristling with power, Cassie knew it for sure. It was still distant, but it was drawing in closer to the shore.
Ranjit must have heard it too. He went rigid in her arms, then sprang up, shaking her off.
‘Who is it?’
‘It must be Isabella. But she can’t drive a boat, she told me that over the holidays. I bet she went to get Sir Alric.’ She practically spat his name.
‘Then I have to go.’
‘Ranjit, wait!’ She put her hands against his face. It was still pale, strained with disbelief, and his eyes, though not red any longer, were glazed with horror.
‘Please, Cassie. I didn’t mean for this to happen. Any of it!’ Gripping her hands he drew them down from his face and kissed them. ‘Tell him that!’
‘Tell him yourself!’ Despite everything, Cassie shivered at the touch of his lips. She leaned over quickly and kissed his face. ‘Ranjit, Sir Alric will understand better than anybody. He’ll know about the Pendant, he’ll know what to do. He—’
‘No! I can’t stay here. I’ve k-killed—’ He gasped in a breath as it hit him all over again. Staring at Richard and Jake, he backed away, shaking his head.
Cassie followed him, desperation sending prickling tears to her eyes. ‘Please,’ she whispered. She caught his hand. ‘Please stay, and we’ll fix it.’
Footsteps, running footsteps, and distant shouts. Ranjit looked up, panicked, then turned to her and caught her face between his hands again, staring into her eyes with ferocious love. ‘That’s what I wanted to do, fix it! I wanted to fix everything, make it better between us, that’s all. If you weren’t Few, if the spirit was gone, then we could be together, do you see?’
‘Ranjit, how did you reckon it could do that?’ She touched his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, his lips. ‘Sir Alric was the one who said we can’t be together. You agreed. There’s nothing else keeping us apart.’
‘Yes, there is, and you know it. Our spirits, the conflict between them.
They’re
what’s keeping us apart. But Estelle’s spirit, her not being fully joined with you, I thought … The Pendant, it can draw the spirit’s power out; the Knife can divide the spirit from the host altogether; the Urn can contain it. I wanted to get her out of you!’
NO! Wicked boy, wicked boy—
Cassie shook her away. ‘Heal wounds, break old ties. I know. I understand. See, you didn’t mean to cause harm, you—’
‘But I did.’
‘But you always told me the spirit had a right to live. If you took her out of me, she could die, Ranjit!’
‘I thought … oh, God knows what I thought. You know what? I didn’t care. If Estelle’s spirit died, so be it. I just wanted you back, Cassie! I wanted you free, like you wanted to be. You didn’t choose this. I just … I just wanted you back!’
There were tears in Cassie’s eyes again, and she couldn’t reply.
He will harm ME! Kill him, kill him, kill him!
She didn’t react to the spirit screaming in her head. It was too important to focus on him, keep him here, make him stay. ‘Ranjit—’
‘I have to go.’
‘No,’ said Cassie faintly. ‘No …’
Abruptly, Ranjit drew her face to his, and kissed her on the lips. Cassie wrapped her arms more fiercely around him, trying to hold him there. It was no good. He forced himself to pull away from her, and she saw there were tears in his eyes too.
‘Stay,’ she whispered.
‘I love you, Cassie.’
And then he snatched up his bag, and vanished into the shadows.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
T
he footsteps were on the stone steps of the portico now, Cassie could hear them. Two people, running. Shouting her name. Shouting Ranjit’s. And
Jake’s
… It was Isabella. Her guess had been right. Isabella and Sir Alric. Cassie felt a flash of furious rage at the Academy’s head: this was all his fault. He could have stopped
everything
!
Quickly she turned to the Pendant once more. Pearly-green, it lay still, a toxic gleam against the ancient stones. Crouching, she reached for it, and as her fingers came closer she saw the creatures begin to stir. A fanged mermaid yawned, a coiling snake unravelled, a leopard stretched …
‘
DON’T TOUCH IT!
’
She jerked round, stumbling upright. Sir Alric stood beneath the first arch, a leather briefcase in one hand, staring in horror at the scene. Behind him, Isabella shoved past, almost tripping in her haste to get to Jake. She fell to her knees beside him with a cry, as Sir Alric strode across to Richard and knelt beside him, touching the pulse at his throat. Cassie felt her own heart beating crazily.
‘Somebody help, please!’ screamed Isabella. ‘Somebody help Jake!’
‘Sir Alric,
please
,’ Cassie urged him.
Sir Alric raised his head, and stared quite expressionlessly at Isabella and Jake. ‘Quiet,’ he snapped finally. ‘In his turn,’ he muttered to himself.
Opening the briefcase, Sir Alric drew out a familiar, delicately beautiful box, and a bog-standard disposable syringe. The Tears of the Few, realised Cassie, blinking in recognition.
Cassie crouched beside him as he ripped the syringe package with his teeth and pushed up Richard’s sleeve. ‘W-will they be OK?’
He didn’t bother to answer, simply found a vein inside Richard’s elbow and plunged in the syringe. He’d barely slipped it free when Richard sucked in a high breath and his eyes snapped open. Reflexively he jolted up, wobbled, and Cassie put her arms around him to stop him falling back hard to the floor.
‘Richard?’ she said urgently. ‘Are you all right? God, I’m sorry, I’m—’
‘Bloody hell.’ His voice came out on a shuddering breath. ‘Another one, James, and make it a double.’
She gasped with relief, still clutching him close as she turned to Sir Alric. But his stare was cold granite.
‘Where is he?’
Cassie knew who Darke meant. ‘Gone,’ she whispered.
‘
Help me!
’ screamed Isabella again.
Ignoring her, Sir Alric sucked in an angry breath. ‘Why didn’t you stop him?’
‘How could I? Ranjit was distraught, he was crazy, I— Look, please, go and help Jake!’
He silenced her with a dismissive gesture. ‘You know you could have kept him here, Cassie.’ He gave her a cold look as he snapped on a pair of gloves. ‘And you know that you should have done.’
Why the gloves now? He hadn’t paused before he gave Richard the— Oh. Cassie watched dully as Sir Alric stooped down to the Pendant. The thin gloves, now that she looked properly, didn’t seem like ordinary latex: they had a silken, watery sheen. Delicately Sir Alric lifted the Pendant by its chain and dropped it into the leather briefcase.
Then, standing up at last, he sighed, walked over, and crouched down opposite Isabella beside Jake. ‘Please calm down,’ he said. ‘Don’t be hysterical; that won’t help him.’ Sir Alric glanced up into the girl’s white face for a moment, then very gently he slid the Knife from Jake’s fingers. That too he dropped into the case, then he snapped it shut. Isabella watched him with frightened eyes.
‘H-he’s going to be OK, yes?’ she said, her voice high with panic.
Sir Alric laid two fingers against Jake’s neck, but Cassie had the distinct sense he was only going through the motions. He paused for what seemed like an age, as if he didn’t want to meet Isabella’s eyes. The only sound in the mausoleum was the Argentinian girl’s terrified, echoing breathing.
Getting to his feet, Sir Alric left the briefcase sitting beside Jake and walked swiftly round his body to Isabella. Clasping her arm firmly he drew her up. She turned to him, wild-eyed.
‘He’ll be OK?’
‘Cassie, come and help here,’ he said, not answering.
‘Let me go!’ Isabella cried. ‘Jake!’
‘Cassie, I said come
here
!’ snapped Sir Alric.
A switch tripped in Cassie’s brain. Squeezing Richard’s shoulders once more, she stood up and did as she was told, putting an arm round Isabella’s waist. She felt frozen and distant. ‘Isabella. Come on.’
‘Cassie, what— No!’ Isabella struggled as Cassie steered her away from Jake and pulled her towards the door. ‘Let me go! Let me
go
!’ She swore and kicked, lunging for Jake.
Cassie locked her arms tight round her friend, gritting her teeth, and grimaced at Sir Alric. ‘What about Richard?’
‘He’s fine.’ Sir Alric was flexing and stretching his gloved fingers, as if he too wanted to just snatch up the briefcase and leave. ‘Now get Isabella out of here.’
Cassie nodded, and pulled Isabella with her as she backed out of the tomb. She thought the girl might get free – she was so scared of hurting her – but Isabella quite suddenly went limp in her arms. As Cassie pulled her out through the portico, she was weeping helplessly, unable to speak.
‘Isabella? Oh, God, Isabella …’ Cassie said, hugging her friend hard, and knowing all too well that her grip was all that was holding the girl up. Behind them, Cassie heard Richard staggering out through the archway, propping himself groggily against a pillar and catching his breath. She frowned at him, concerned.
‘Can you manage?’
‘I’m fine. Just about.’ He sounded unusually empty, and
he was staring at nothing. ‘Better than—’ Catching Cassie’s eye, he swallowed. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
‘What did Sir Alric say?’
‘He told me to go with you to the boat. Help you with Isabella.’
‘What the hell’s he doing?’ exclaimed Cassie, eyes burning. She didn’t want to hear Isabella’s wrenching sobs any more but she couldn’t let go of her.
‘God knows. Cleaning up the evidence, probably. He was adamant we’re to go.’
Cassie rubbed one sleeve across her face as Richard came to her side and kissed her cheek. He too put an arm round Isabella to support her. Dawn was a hazy pearl light now and beyond the mosque grounds the city was coming alive, car horns blaring, people shouting and laughing and calling out. Normal life, thought Cassie. Normal life. High on the air a recorded muezzin cried mournfully, amplified and rebounding off ancient stone and modern streets.
‘All right.’ Cassie’s voice was hardly more than a whisper. She hugged Isabella tighter and led her towards the stone steps, though it was like moving some inanimate chess piece. ‘We’ll do as he says. For now. But not for ever.’