The Named (13 page)

‘I’m a deep sleeper, Dad.’

He peers at me as though, on some level in his mind, he’s not buying my explanation. Then his head drops, a defeated gesture. ‘I … I’m confused.’

‘There’s nothing to be confused about. I was just so tired I fell into a deep sleep. I was in dreamland.’

This reference to dreams has his eyes open wide again. He sits at the side of my bed. ‘Were you having a nightmare too?’

Although I did have one earlier, I still don’t feel up to talking about it. Right now I’m too drained. ‘Nah, just sweet dreams tonight, Dad.’

He almost smiles. ‘There must’ve been a girl involved.’

Isabel’s trusting face as she looked up from making the stone castle at the lake foreshore flashes into my brain. The sensation of evil about to drop on her from the surrounding woods hits me at the same instant.

‘Ethan? Are you all right?’

I push the horror to the back of my mind. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just really tired, Dad.’

He gets up and walks to the door, but doesn’t leave straight away. ‘If there’s anything you want to tell me … Anything …’ He turns his face slightly. It catches the light from the moon, and I see a glimpse of tenderness and concern. This look, this rare show of emotion, almost has me confessing my soul to him. Fighting this urge hard, I turn away, rolling on to my side, letting him know our conversation is over. Telling Dad, or anyone else for that matter, about the Guard would be a major violation of the code. But worse than that, Dad just wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Chapter Twenty-two

Isabel

A week passes and Ethan fully recovers. What happened to him scared me and I don’t want that happening to me. Tonight we go to Athens to the year 200 BC, a thousand years after the Tribunal was first established. Now it’s the Guard’s headquarters, where the Lords of the various Houses live unaffected by the mortal measurement of time. I’m going to be initiated as an Apprentice before the Tribunal. We’ll be staying overnight, as Ethan’s trial is on the second day; Arkarian is allowing me to stay for it but probably not to watch. It couldn’t happen at a better time, because Mum is away with Jimmy for a weekend in the high country trying to catch some early snow. I just have to make sure I don’t do anything stupid to make Matt want to check on me during the night, which is highly unlikely anyway. With Mum away I’m sure he’ll make the most of the house this weekend with Rochelle.

I’m kind of looking forward to meeting the Tribunal, which is made up of the nine Lords of the Houses, even while I’m nervous about it too. There are apparently four women, four men, and an immortal who is
neither. I have so many questions, but doubt I’ll get to ask even half of them. Arkarian says that to even look upon their faces takes courage, let alone to stare into their eyes to ask a question.

‘Are they ugly?’ We’re seated in Arkarian’s main chamber, on his favourite stools. Mine feels as if it’s going to collapse beneath me.

Ethan laughs. ‘About as ugly as Arkarian.’

Arkarian gives Ethan a barely tolerant look.

‘Do they have strange-coloured eyes?’

‘Like mine?’ Arkarian asks, looking straight at me with those deep violet eyes that are completely breathtaking this close up.

Ethan answers for me, which is good as I seem to have lost my ability to speak. ‘Mostly, but it’s how they look at you, or I should say through you.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘They’re all Truthseers.’

I stare at Ethan, then at Arkarian.

‘They can read your thoughts. Every one,’ Ethan says with a grin. ‘Even the thoughts you don’t consciously think. Like the silly ones that just pop into your head.’

‘Oh, no!’

‘The first time I met the Tribunal I could hardly stop staring at Penbarin. You’ll know exactly who I’m talking about when you see him. He’s massive, in every direction. I didn’t say anything out loud, of course. And I did stop myself from staring, but I couldn’t stop myself from thinking,
Wow, isn’t he a fat pig
? That was my first thought, then,
I wonder what he ate for breakfast, a side of cow
?’

I can’t help laughing, but Arkarian’s voice is dry.

‘Personally, I don’t think about what people eat for
breakfast. I have better things to do with my thoughts.’

So now I have to watch not just what I say, but what my thoughts say as well.

Arkarian touches my shoulder gently; a comforting warmth spreads right down my arm. ‘Pay no attention to him, Isabel. He’s matured somewhat since that first meeting.’

Something clicks. ‘How old were you exactly when you had these runaway thoughts?’

Ethan smiles. ‘Five, I think.’

It’s a relief, but only slightly. I know my own mind, and it hardly ever follows its own orders. I recall the first time I met Arkarian and how blown away I was by that blue hair. And then I saw his eyes – purple! Just looking into them had made me self-conscious and tingly all over. The thoughts I had were just plain sinful. But eventually I pulled myself together and started noticing other things, like his skin, pale and silky smooth. And as for his physique, well, I couldn’t help noticing the strength in his upper body, like – wow!

I stop when I realise they’re sharing a look that at first I don’t understand. And then I get it. It’s embarrassment – on my behalf. ‘What is it?’

Ethan breaks it to me. ‘You know when I told you Arkarian’s title is that of TruthMaster.’

An uneasy feeling kicks into my stomach. ‘Uh-huh.’

‘Well, the fact is, the “Truth” half stands for Truthseer.’

‘Arkarian’s a Truthseer too?’ I ask just to check.

Arkarian’s eyebrows lift, while Ethan grins at me.

‘How wonderful,’ I whisper mostly to myself, recalling in a flash the multitude of embarrassing thoughts I’ve had about Arkarian while in his presence. I try
hard to resist putting both hands over my face in an attempt to hide. ‘I mean, isn’t this just great? Thank you for telling me, Ethan. Some Trainer you turned out to be. And your speciality is embarrassing your Apprentices, correct?’

They both laugh, then Arkarian gets serious. ‘You two had better get going. We leave in only a few hours.’

As Ethan and I walk out of the mountain and down the long track home, I can’t help drilling him with some of the thousand questions jumping around inside my head. He tries to answer them, but sometimes I sense he’s purposely leaving stuff out. I wish I was a Truthseer so I could read his mind right now, but really I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. Imagine what silly thoughts he would have.

But there is one question that I know he’ll love to talk about. It’s about getting what the Guard call his ‘wings’. It’s an honour, one of the highest possible. And Ethan is close. He’s mentioned it several times while training. Apparently he’s expecting to be awarded this power on his next birthday in a ceremony in Athens. ‘What happens when you earn your wings?’

His eyes light up, I see the blue in them shimmer even in the semi-dark of early dusk. ‘They’re not physical wings or anything,’ he says, ‘not like a bird or an angel. You don’t actually grow them either. It’s a power you have to earn. They don’t give it to everyone. Only those they can fully trust not to misuse it.’

‘What can you do with this power?’

‘It’s the ability to dematerialise your own body and rematerialise it at will somewhere else.’

‘Wow, that’s incredible!’

‘Yeah, why do you think I can’t wait? It’s the ultimate.’

Ethan is excited and I can’t blame him. The trip into the past last week is still buzzing in my head. An absolute adrenalin rush from start to finish. Imagine being able to take yourself from one spot to another in an instant! The ultimate in self-defence. ‘How long does it take to earn these wings?’

‘There are three levels: Apprentice, Trainer and Master. But you can earn your wings at any stage, it’s up to the Tribunal. Some members don’t ever earn them, but it doesn’t mean they’re unskilled, just that the Tribunal doesn’t think they can handle that amount of power.’

‘Ah, I think I understand. So what would Arkarian be?’

‘He’s a Master, and he’s had his wings for about five hundred and ninety years, or so he boasts.’

Boasts
? Now this I find difficult to believe. I haven’t known him long, but he doesn’t seem the type. Right from the start I felt he was genuine, not putting on an attitude like most people I know. ‘He doesn’t boast. And I know he has the skill that keeps him physically young, but six hundred years? That’s really hard to comprehend ’cause he just doesn’t look it.’

‘His body will always be that of an eighteen-year-old.’

An interesting thought! ‘Are you sure he’s not immortal?’

Ethan shrugs. ‘Nah, it’s just his skill. Others have it too, but it’s rare.’

A thought hits me. Arkarian must have a life other than the times we see him in his high-tech chambers,
monitoring history. Where does he go? Who does he see? ‘Does he …? Um—’

‘What?’

‘I don’t know, have a …?’

He looks at me as if I’ve just grown two heads. ‘A
girlfriend
? Is that what you’re trying to ask?’

‘No, I’m not.’ Well, I am, actually, but Ethan’s amused reaction has me dropping the subject quickly. I can’t help thinking a lot about Arkarian since meeting him. Maybe it’s his mysterious lifestyle I find fascinating. I don’t know. He just intrigues me.

Chapter Twenty-three

Isabel

I go to bed as usual, though Matt is nowhere around. He’s probably with Rochelle. Whether he’s with her or not makes no difference as far as I’m concerned. His love life is none of my business. The first time Matt started going out with Rochelle, and I could tell how serious he was about this girl, I thought perhaps the two of us could be friends. But it didn’t work out, and even to this day, Rochelle always acts indifferent to me. Matt thinks I exaggerate, but in his eyes Rochelle can do nothing wrong. And I can’t say anything bad about her or he bites my head off. Boy, has he got it bad! Well, hopefully I’ll be back in my body by the time he gets home.

I drift off to sleep quickly, waking with a sudden drop in one of the many rooms in the Citadel. This one resembles a museum, with sculptures (mostly statues of naked little boys) spread around the room.

Ethan is waiting for me again. Together we go to one of the wardrobe rooms, this one completely different to the last. I end up dressed in a white tunic made of some soft yet subtly reflective material, sashed at the
waist with a light-blue corded belt, a matching white cape draped over my shoulders. My feet remain bare, my hair unchanged, except for being contained in a single thick plait. I move to the mirror to inspect my new face and see my familiar reflection staring back.

‘Your identity can’t be concealed from the leaders of the royal Houses, nor from the immortal.’

‘Oh.’

Ethan smiles at me. ‘I should congratulate you,’ he says, attempting to maintain a happy look, I suspect solely for my benefit. ‘You’ve been elevated already. The white tunic represents your novice status and so should your belt, but you’re wearing the first shade of blue, which stands for suitably honoured Apprentice.’

Inwardly beaming, I stand back as Ethan begins his walk. Moments later he spins around to face me, dressed in a similar floor-length tunic and cape, except his are all black, including the sash. ‘What does your black tunic stand for?’ I ask, but hardly need to. His crestfallen face tells me heaps.

‘Dishonour,’ he says softly. ‘At least I haven’t been stripped back to Apprentice status.’

I try to be sympathetic. Obviously the hierarchy of the Guard means a lot to him. ‘They won’t do that to you. The black looks good anyway.’

He grins bitterly. ‘Are you ready? Remember time isn’t measured in this place.’

‘Right, let’s go.’

From a room on a higher level we leap into a waiting yellow mist, and almost instantly drop to a rock-solid surface. As soon as they hit, my feet fall out from under me. Blue sky, the sound of birds nearby and the strong scent of flowers let me know even before I fully
open my eyes that we’re definitely somewhere outside.

Getting to my feet, I take a good look around and see several enormous trees covered in brilliant red, mauve and orange flowers. The ground is paved with golden bricks, and there are stone pillars shimmering in the heat of the sun. We’re in a courtyard, bricked on three sides with long columned verandas, the fourth a large stone wall. There are benches placed strategically amongst brightly coloured and perfectly manicured flower beds. The whole scene is one of serenity, a place for rest and reflection.

‘Ah, at last you arrive! I was starting to think I needed to organise a search party.’

It’s Arkarian, waiting for us with a welcoming smile and an outstretched hand. Ethan grunts and grabs Arkarian’s hand in a firm shake. I’d like to do the same, but seeing Arkarian outfitted in his shimmering silver cape over a matching floor-length tunic, his blue hair flowing freely behind him, takes my breath away. He looks amazing.

He nods with a small smile at me. ‘Welcome to Athens, Isabel!’ He waves his hand in a wide arc. ‘Isn’t it a beautiful morning?’

I swallow and give a little cough, feeling as if I’m about to choke, a normal voice nowhere in sight. It’s Arkarian, his natural presence overwhelming me for an instant. It also doesn’t help that the heat is so intense out here. What will it be like in a few hours?

He takes my elbow. ‘Don’t be nervous. Let’s go inside where it’s much cooler.’

Ethan pulls at his black tunic top.

‘It’s a formality, Ethan.’ Arkarian tries to put his mind at rest. ‘All your good work won’t go unnoticed,
believe me. I’ll make certain they understand.’

‘Thanks, Arkarian.’

Arkarian leads us into a room of white walls and shiny marble floors. Here he sits with us on a low bench beside a table laden with hot dishes of cooked fish with peas and figs and bread. There’s a crumbly-looking cheese that Arkarian explains is made from goat’s milk.

Smelling the food suddenly makes me hungry. We eat, an unusual breakfast, although Ethan only toys with his food; and then Arkarian shows us to our rooms. ‘Rest a while,’ he tells me, ‘you’ll be called soon enough.’ And to Ethan he says, ‘We need to talk and go over your statement for tomorrow.’