The Dark (2 page)

He gets up. ‘There was nothing—’

‘There is never nothing—!’

Bastian thinks quickly. He glimpses Keziah. ‘I think there was a wizard amongst them.’

This suggestion seizes her attention. ‘What did you say?’

‘A wizard, your Highness.’

‘Explain.’

‘The boy worked some sort of magic. He created an image of a girl. It distracted—’

She cuts him off with a wave of her hand, but her eyes narrow as she contemplates Bastian’s theory. She soon dismisses it with a shake of her head. ‘The closest the Guard have to a wizard today is a man called Arkarian. Watch out for him, Bastian, for he is their jewel. Without him, they are nothing. And while he is highly skilled, even
he
cannot perform magic. Keziah is the last of a dying breed. There was another who could perform magic once, but, threatened, Lorian disposed of him.’

‘How will I know this “jewel”, Highness?’

One finely arched eyebrow lifts. ‘You will know Arkarian by his blue hair and violet eyes. Both are impossible to miss in the mortal world, should he have reason to surface. He lives in the Citadel now, but his working chambers are somewhere around Veridian.’

‘What would you have me do to him when I find him?’

She laughs, a mocking sound, causing Bastian’s hands
to start shaking again. ‘Do you think Arkarian will come knocking on your door? He has lived for six hundred years and gained many skills in that time, so do not underestimate his abilities. And do not be fooled by the number of years he has lived. He stopped ageing when he turned eighteen. Know this, Bastian, time has not affected Arkarian in any way except to change the colour of his hair and eyes. Even if he did reveal himself to you, you would fail miserably, just as you failed to save—’ She stops abruptly, caught by an idea that lifts her spirits as a plan for retaliation begins to form. ‘Wait.’ She stares at Bastian with the directness that makes his eyes flutter to the side. ‘Perhaps you
can
be of use, after all your miserable mistakes today.’

He bows his head deeply. ‘I’m at your mercy, Highness. Tell me what to do.’

She looks directly into the boy’s eyes: his whole body shudders. ‘Without revealing your allegiance, I want you to bring me the identity of one of the Named.’

‘The
Named
, Highness?’

‘Yes, and don’t look at me so blankly. The Named are the select group of nine members of the Guard. The elite branch of the Guardians of Time. An army originally formed to protect the earth from … well,
me
.’ She gives a mocking laugh. ‘The Named, according to the Prophecy, are the soldiers who will go into battle against me. In the meantime it is their task to protect Veridian. One day they will have a king, but for now they have Arkarian.’

Lathenia gives Bastian a thoughtful look. ‘There are many branches of the Guardians of Time, each one headed by a member of their Tribunal. It is these Tribunal members who govern a sector of the earth using
their own soldiers. Combined, they work as a council. But they are fools, Bastian, for Lorian makes all the decisions.’

He nods, understanding, and she says, ‘Why do you think so many of my soldiers and theirs come from that small town called Angel Falls?’

Bastian’s head shakes. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Because Angel Falls shelters Veridian, and Veridian is everything! It has power, Bastian. It was for a time the most powerful city in all the worlds, and so far advanced your earthly technology comes nowhere near it, not even today.’

With difficulty Bastian meets his Goddess’s eyes. ‘Where is this city? Can I see it?’

‘The city is under the lake at Angel Falls. It is one more thing that Lorian keeps hidden from me. But one day – soon – I will find the way in, and its secrets will be mine.’

‘Is there something in particular you want from this city, Highness?’

Lathenia’s eyes flash at the young man. He is more astute than she realised. Perhaps his other power is finally starting to reveal itself. ‘There is a key, in the shape of an eight-sided pyramid. If you find it, Bastian, I would make you a king, and your realm would be immense. But heed my warning – the key has the power to kill any mortal that touches it.’

Bastian swallows deeply, his mind focused on the concept of becoming royalty. The idea of his own realm sparks visions of grandeur. And now that Marduke is … well, gone, maybe his own talents will be more noticed. ‘It must be an important key, Highness. Does it open a chest of treasures?’

She scoffs at the boy’s naivety. ‘Perhaps one could call it that. But it’s not the sort of treasure that will bring you wealth, Bastian. It is a treasury of weapons. The finest and most powerful to be found in all the worlds.’

In the ensuing silence Lathenia’s eyes wander back across the room to the still body of her loved one. Bastian watches as the Goddess’s hand, with her unusual fingers, splays across the blood-stained chest of the Order’s highest-ranked master. ‘You must forget the key for now, Bastian. And forget Arkarian too. I will deal with him. You don’t have the power. Not yet at least. And he is much more highly skilled than the average Guard. I have a plan for him that I will spin into action very soon. But I do have a mission for you. An important one.’

‘I am nothing but your humble servant.’

‘Bring me the name of the one whose hand held the dagger that stole Marduke’s breath.’ Spinning her head, Lathenia pins Bastian with ice-cold eyes, ‘He may even attend your earthly school! Find him! Do you understand, Bastian?’

Bastian nods and takes a deep breath. ‘Yes, Highness. I am to bring you the name of Marduke’s murderer.’

Somewhat comforted by the very thought of revenge, Lathenia’s attention returns to Marduke’s slain body before her. A wave of grief grips her as she gently runs her fingers over the disfigured half of his face, the empty eye socket, the vacant side of his mouth, old scars from a previous battle with one of the Named. She kisses the cavities softly. ‘The world will pay for this death. They will feel my grief. They will see my rage.’

‘And so they should, Highness,’ Keziah makes himself known once more.

She stares at the shrunken old man, seeing he has
more to say.

‘But perhaps, Mistress, for a small price …’ He makes a money motion with the fingers of his left hand, ‘something can be done to ease your pain.’

Her shoulders lift, her chin rises. ‘Speak, Keziah. For your life it had better be worth the words that flow from your shrivelled lips.’

He coughs into his cupped hand, his chest rattling and whistling. Catching his breath again he says, ‘If you are prepared to make a journey in search of your beloved’s soul—’

‘I would do anything to save him. Explain yourself. And quickly, my patience is sorely tested this day.’

‘The middle realm, Highness. The place Marduke’s soul wanders, looking for a white bridge that will lead him to his final destiny.’

‘Of course! He died within a mortal body while still in the past! If we reach him in time, Keziah, before he crosses that bridge …’ Her words drift away, but her meaning remains clear – there is a chance Marduke will live again. The very thought makes her immortal heart lurch.

‘We will need your assistance to venture there, Highness. And perhaps your hounds could be of use to find him quickly.’

‘I won’t need my hounds to find him,’ she dismisses. ‘I would know him in any world.’

‘There’s just one more thing,’ Keziah says, hesitating.

‘Go on, old man! Hurry!’

‘Your voice must be the one of his soul-mate, or he will not return.’

She smiles, and without answering, transports them into a grey and twisted forest, Bastian included for the
experience.

With the sudden drop in temperature, Bastian shivers. ‘Are you sure Marduke’s soul is in this place, Keziah?’

Keziah snorts as the Goddess moves on ahead, as if she were one of her own hounds drawn to the scent of an injured rabbit. ‘Do you doubt me, Bastian?’ Keziah replies.

‘I just don’t like it here. It’s all so …’

‘Dull?’

‘I was going to say colourless.’ His eyes shift up and around. ‘How far to the—’ He doesn’t finish his thought. Instead his eyes grow into huge orbs as they become fixed and staring. Suddenly he screams and throws both hands up to protect his face.

Keziah notices the boy’s distress. ‘Clear your thoughts!’ he instructs him. ‘Your fears will manifest into solid forms in this world.’

Slowly Bastian’s hands lower. When he looks this time, the snakes are gone, and he sighs with relief.

Keziah gives Bastian a closer examination. ‘You had better stay close. When we find Marduke, our return will be swift. You wouldn’t want to be left behind. I doubt the Goddess will come back for
you
.’

Bastian’s eyes widen and he rubs his arms to try and warm them. ‘I just hope we find Marduke soon.’ He pulls down a twisted silver vine blocking his path, and finds he has to run to catch up. Even ancient Keziah, with his rattling chest, is way ahead of him already.

It seems like hours and many kilometres later before they stop. Though how this is possible Bastian cannot fathom. Just up ahead he sees the broad back of a large, hunchbacked creature, but doesn’t take much notice as he has seen many odd-looking creatures these past few
hours. Some were terrifying, others simply piteous. Blowing on his half-frozen fingertips in an attempt to stop frost bite from setting in, Bastian tries to take in his surroundings. A broad river flows alongside him. Grey, of course. A vast valley sprawls seemingly forever beyond its shores. He suddenly wonders why they have stopped, when he hears his Goddess call out the one word he has been waiting these past hours to hear,
‘Marduke!’

The hunchbacked creature up ahead stops and slowly turns. Bastian realises with a sudden thump deep in his chest, that this creature – this
beast
– is in fact Marduke, changed beyond recognition. The hideous sight makes him step backwards, losing his balance against a grey boulder. ‘Your Highness,’ he hisses, attempting to regain his composure. He tries to speak again, but finds he must first moisten his lips with a tongue turned dry. ‘Your Highness, are you … are you sure you wish to return …
that?
’

She doesn’t answer, and Bastian watches as she gulps deep in her throat and moisture fills her eyes. He gasps softly, his heart thundering even more loudly against his rib cage. The distraught look on his Goddess’s face –
the tears!
– something he has never seen on her before, never thought her capable of, shocks him.

Finally she breathes, ‘They will pay dearly for this. They will pay with blood, with fear, and with many lives.’

Chapter One

Isabel

Nowhere is safe any more. Every few weeks we change training grounds. Today we’re on the mountain, on an open field over the top of Arkarian’s chambers. Not that you can see Arkarian’s chambers, they’re hidden within the mountain. There is a secret entrance that can’t be seen from the outside. It opens on command – usually only Arkarian’s. The Guard has to maintain a high level of secrecy, our lives are constantly in danger. And since Marduke’s death, nothing is the same. He died a year ago today.

Marduke thought he could use my brother Matt as bait. His plan for revenge ended up dragging Matt into the Guard before he was ready. Marduke had already killed Ethan’s sister Sera, as part of his payback plan for losing half his face in an earlier conflict with Ethan’s father Shaun. It was this fight that turned Marduke from being one of the Guard’s trusted members, to a traitor.

A cold shiver runs through me. It’s the memory of how close we came to losing so much. My brother for one. He didn’t know anything about the Guard then. Now he’s a member. Well, at least he’s trying to be.
Ethan is his Trainer, and I think Matt is proving to be a frustrating Apprentice.

I don’t usually come up and watch Matt’s sessions, unless I’m training too. But today Ethan asked me to assess Matt’s progress. It’s dangerous for all three of us to disappear after school together on a regular basis. Our history teacher Mr Carter, who is also one of the Named, is always warning us. ‘It could attract attention,’ he often says. ‘You just never know who’s watching.’

Our identities, though revealed to each other, have to remain concealed from any member of the Order who might be hanging around. There could be someone at school, one of our own ‘friends’ for all we know. The very thought sends another wave of shivers all over me. I rub my arms to get rid of the goose bumps under my jumper. It’s not snowing up here yet, but the weather is turning colder now that winter is approaching. I just wish this day would hurry up and pass. I can’t seem to get rid of the creepy feeling that something’s going to go wrong.

‘Hey, Isabel, are you OK over there? I’ve got a jacket in my bag. Why don’t you put it on?’

I groan softly under my breath. That’s Matt of course, overly concerned as ever. When will he understand I’m only one year younger than him and able to look after myself? Haven’t I spent most of my life proving just that? ‘I’m not cold!’

He gives me a long, frustrated, when-will-she-grow-up kind of look, which sets my blood boiling. I take a deep breath, reminding myself it’s just the way he is. And he’s not just protective of me. He takes what he perceives to be his responsibilities very seriously. Like watching over Mum, for instance. That’s why he
resents her boyfriend Jimmy so much, even though he’s also a member of the Guard. (Mum’s not, and she’s never to find out.)

Maybe that’s why Matt’s the chosen one. Chosen by the Prophecy, that is, to be our leader. Arkarian explained it all. But I’m not so sure telling Matt was such a good idea. I wasn’t shown the Prophecy until I was ready to handle it.

Ethan nudges Matt with an elbow. ‘Come on, we’ve got a lot to get through today.’

Air hisses out between Matt’s teeth and he rolls his eyes, totally frustrated. He knows that while he’s picking up some good fighting techniques with all this training, it’s his skills – his
powers
– that are going to be his real strengths. But so far there has been no sign of any paranormal abilities whatsoever. I know my brother like the skin on my own hands. He’s been drawn into the Guard before his time – a situation that couldn’t be avoided. But now here he is, unprepared, his powers nowhere in sight, even after a whole year! No wonder he feels inadequate.