Betrayal (17 page)

N
ow the house seemed full of menacing, unnamed threats. I was there alone, and Sebastian was gone. Where was he? Had he…had he already come to the end of his tortured journey and faded from this world altogether? I couldn’t believe it—I didn’t want to believe it. I would have known; surely there would have been some sign, some message.

Perhaps, like an animal, Sebastian had crawled away into a lonely corner to face his end, his final moments before his masters snatched him into eternal bondage. Or perhaps the end had not yet come and he was lying ill in one of the other rooms, fading and helpless as the demon spirits hovered, getting ready for the final blow.

I drew the dagger from my pocket and held it tight, then crept down the stairs. “Sebastian? Sebastia-a-an!” My voice cracked and was swallowed up by the dark. I hurried back down to the ground floor and flitted through the grand public rooms: a drawing room of shrouded mirrors and dull gold brocade; a rich red dining room set out with a long mahogany table, where no one would ever dine again; a music room, where a piano waited for the touch of the long-dead hands; and the library, lined with a thousand books.

The library. I hesitated outside the door. It was standing ajar, and a flickering light glowed within. I slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside. A fire was burning in the grate. The books, the desks, the leather chairs, everything was the same as before. I walked over to the fire and looked up at the portraits of Sebastian’s parents that hung over the carved mantelpiece. “If you can hear me, please help me,” I begged.

“They cannot hear you.”

I stifled a scream and whirled around. Sebastian was standing on the far side of the room, his eyes burning. There was blood on his face, and his breath rattled. He seemed to emit a shadow, a dark aura that sucked away
life and light and hope. But he was still there; there was still time….

“Sebastian,” I sobbed, and stepped toward him, but he flung his arm up like a shield.

“Do not touch me! Do not come near me.”

“Why not? What’s happening?”

“My destiny. Soon, very soon I will be…a demon. I am almost there.”

I felt I would go crazy with grief and fear and guilt, and sank onto one of the low chairs in front of the fire. “I’m so sorry, Sebastian, I’m so sorry. I came to tell you. I tried so hard, but I failed.”

“You have failed.” he repeated in a ghastly, dead voice. “You are sorry.” Then he looked across the room and his eyes narrowed. “My memory…there was a girl…like you…a girl from the sea. She was going to save me. It is too late. By midnight tomorrow I will no longer be in this world.” Then he staggered forward, shielding his eyes, gasping like a child. “I’m so afraid.”

I couldn’t bear to see him like that. I had been so convinced that I would rescue Sebastian that I hadn’t allowed myself to think that I would fail. Even now, I couldn’t let myself give up. “I will save you, Sebastian. I’ll find a way
somehow; we have one more day—we have tomorrow.”

“It was you then?” His eyes flickered over me. “You are…that girl?”

“Yes, it’s me, Evie. Oh, Sebastian, don’t you remember?”

He clutched his head and gave a terrible cry. “Evie…Evie, it’s you….” The next moment he flew across the room and took me in his arms, holding me as though nothing would ever part us. “You’re here; you’ve come back; oh God, don’t ever leave me again.”

“I won’t, I promise,” I replied joyfully, yet the sight of his gaunt face pulled me back to reality. “Sebastian, I have to tell you something. It’s about the Talisman.”

“Don’t speak of it! If you knew how it has tormented my dreams—but I made a promise, didn’t I, Evie?” he murmured. “I will fade, so that you can live. I swore it. Eternal slavery for me, in exchange for life for you.” He kissed my forehead, then stepped back and let me go with a twisted smile. The red light of the hearth seemed to glow in his eyes, and a change came over his face. He stared at me strangely, and now there was no recognition in his eyes. “A fine bargain indeed.”

“Sebastian—”

“Sebastian, Sebastian,” he echoed mockingly. “Did you come to watch my final moments? Did you come to
rejoice that I kept my promise?” He laughed. “But I do not choose to keep it. I do not choose to fade. Give me the Talisman!”

“I can’t. I don’t have it; that’s what I had to tell you. The Talisman is lost—”

“Liar!” He pinned me against the wall as though possessed with a manic strength. “Give it to me! My last, my only hope. I will escape this torment, even now at this late hour. I will become the destroyer, not the destroyed. I will kill you in order to save myself.”

“No, Sebastian,” I pleaded. “No!”

“I did not understand then,” he snarled. “I did not know this torment. Now that I can see into the abyss, I do not choose to become a slave. I do not condemn myself to wither and fade. I will become one of the mighty Unconquered and live as a king in the everlasting night. And you will help me, as you promised. Give me the heirloom that Agnes bequeathed to you.”

“I can’t….”

“You mean you won’t? It should have been mine anyway; Agnes would have wanted me to have it….” Sebastian put his hands around my neck, searching for the Talisman, gripping me cruelly. “What’s this?” he cried, as he found Martha’s locket. “Where is the Talisman? You…you
dare to cheat me—betray me?”

In desperation I groped for the dagger in my pocket to try to defend myself, but he was too quick for me. He twisted it out of my hand with an agonizing wrench and pressed the blade against my throat.

“You will give me the Talisman,” he growled, “not this worthless trash.” Tearing the locket from around my neck, Sebastian flung it in fury on the glowing embers in the fireplace. All at once a dazzling flame shot up from the hearth and a voice echoed, “I am with you, my sister….”

I saw a circle of brilliant white fire in my mind, and I heard Agnes speak the word of power. Then I spoke it aloud, and a wall of flames sprang up around me like bright trees, and Sebastian was thrown to the other side of the room. He reached out for me again, screaming, “No, no, no! Come back!” But the fire swept me away from him like a shooting star, as I was taken far beyond the limits of the world and into a sea of never-ending light….

When I opened my eyes, I was huddled against the wrought-iron gates that led to the school. “No, no, no…” I sobbed.

No, no, no…Come back, come back, come back….

I hardly knew where I was, or what I said. I knew only
that Sebastian had finally betrayed me, and that our love was at an end.

There are many kinds of betrayals. There are the small ones: the unkind word, the laughter behind someone’s back, the petty lies. And there are the betrayals that break hearts, destroy worlds, and turn the strong, sweet light of day into bitter dust.

T
he birds were awake and the sky was getting light. I forced myself to move. As I stood up I heard the soft clop of hooves in the lane. For one crazy moment I thought it was Sebastian coming to find me, but I saw the familiar figure of Josh, riding up to the school on his gray horse for the start of the new day. He saw me and quickly dismounted.

“Evie, what on earth are you doing out here? What’s the matter?”

I threw myself into his arms and began to weep, as though I were drowning in sorrow.

“There, there, Evie, it’s all right; I’m here….” He rocked me gently, like a child, and eventually the storm passed. My tears were over.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Josh,” I stammered. “I’d better get back to school. I’ll be in trouble if they find out I’m not there.”

“Aren’t you in bigger trouble than that already?” Josh asked. “What’s going on, Evie? I guess you’ve been sneaking out to see this boyfriend of yours. If he’s upsetting you—”

“No,” I said quickly. “Nothing like that. It’s…it’s not his fault.”

“So what is it?”

I sighed. “I wish I could tell you, but you’d think I was crazy.”

“Just try me.”

I looked up at his honest face and saw that there was real concern in his eyes. I longed to be able to open my heart to him.

“The thing is…I’m worried about my boyfriend. He’s…well, he’s sick. And I’m so worried. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“I’m sorry to hear he’s ill. But isn’t he getting any help? Aren’t his parents taking care of him?”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to lie to Josh, but the truth was impossible. Cold and tired and miserable, I began to walk down the drive to the school. Josh followed me, leading his horse.

“I know that you don’t want to tell me about it, Evie, but I wish you didn’t have to keep everything a secret like this.” He glanced up at the hills that encircled the school. “This place has always been full of secrets. I don’t just mean all that stuff about Lady Agnes and her ghost. There’s other talk too. Weird stuff. But the truth comes out eventually.”

“Isn’t that just silly gossip?” I said wearily.

“I’m not so sure. There are stories that there’s some kind of mysterious cult based here—women worshippers who follow a pagan master, like a coven.”

“A c-coven?” I stared at him, flushed and amazed.

“Evie, I’m right, aren’t I?” Josh exclaimed. “Are you mixed up with all this? Are you in danger?”

“Y-you can’t believe all that stuff,” I stammered, trying to hide my feelings.

“I’ve lived on these hills all my life. They are full of mystery, like the stars and the rain and the sea. We know so little, really. I’ve learned that everything and anything is possible.”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“So who is this boy you’re seeing? Does he have anything to do with these women?”

I felt so torn. I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t.

“Of course not,” I blustered. “And look, I really must hurry back to school. If anyone sees me I’ll say I got up early for a walk. Thank you so much, Josh, I’ll see you later.”

We had reached the stable yard.

I turned to go, but he caught my hand and gently drew me to him. “Look, Evie, I know your heart is somewhere else, but I want you to know that you can come to me if you need help.” He looked at me as if trying to read my thoughts, and then he smiled. “I see you’re still wearing the locket.”

I lifted my hand automatically to my throat. “Oh…yes…”

But I had seen it being thrown into the fire, tarnished by the heat. The chain had been broken, and yet now it was whole again, and the battered little locket lay quietly against my skin. Another mystery.

“Evie…oh, Evie, thank God—where have you been?” Sarah and Helen came running up. “Are you okay?”

“She’s tired and upset,” Josh said lightly. “I’ll let you look after her.” He swung away, whistling under his breath, and Sarah dragged me into Bonny’s warm stable.

“I woke up early and just knew that you weren’t in the school,” she said.

“We’ve been frantic about you,” exclaimed Helen. “What happened?”

I told them everything, reliving each painful moment of the scene with Sebastian.

“He didn’t want me in the end. It was the Talisman he wanted,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “And now this is Sebastian’s last day. I thought it was all going to be so different. But it was all for nothing. Everything that happened between us…he has forgotten it all. He’s forgotten that he ever loved me. And now…now it will happen, just like he said. He’ll become a…” I couldn’t say it. I began to cry again.

Helen took my hand. “Remember there are other powers at work,” she said. “We don’t see the whole pattern. It’s still not too late.”

“Like Agnes said, even death isn’t the end,” murmured Sarah.

“But this isn’t death, is it?” I said, almost crushed by misery. “Agnes died, and we know she has moved on in the journey; she lives in light in the next world, as the Creator planned. But Sebastian…” I fought for breath, then forced myself to speak the terrible words. “Sebastian will become a demon for all eternity, beyond the reach of prayers or hope. Endless night, endless suffering, lost to
God, lost to humanity. Lost to me. Don’t talk to me about death! Death is a gift, a gateway and a release. This…this is evil beyond death!”

We fell silent; then I made the effort to speak again. “Look, I’m sorry. There’s no point in talking about Sebastian. The new moon will rise and it will all be over. I thought he loved me. I thought I could save his immortal soul. I was wrong on both counts. But thank you for trying to help me. You’ve been amazing.”

“We’re still here for you, Evie,” said Sarah, “if there is anything we can do.”

“Sisters to the end,” added Helen.

There was nothing else to say.

I walked across the stable yard and headed for my dorm to get changed. The rest of the girls had already gone to breakfast. I would be late for class, but I didn’t care. What did anything matter anymore? I had to learn to live again without Sebastian, without hope and without love.

E
verything on the third floor was quiet, apart from the swish of a broom as one of the cleaning women began to sweep the floor of the corridor. I walked past her and went straight to my dorm. I pushed the door open, then stopped in amazement. Someone was crouching over the small cupboard next to my bed, going through all my private stuff. It was Harriet.

“What the…?”

Lying in a heap on the bed were my letters from Dad, my precious photographs from home, and several sheets of paper covered with small black script—Agnes’s writing. Her journal had been ripped to pieces and scattered like leaves in the wind.

“Hey! Stop! What do you think you’re doing?” I rushed
over to Harriet and dragged her away from my things.

“I wanted to find my necklace,” she whined. “Someone told me it was you who took it for a joke that time it went missing.”

I stared at Harriet in total disbelief. “Why on earth would I do that? Of course I don’t have your necklace! Who told you that?”

“Celeste. She said she’d seen you hide it in your cupboard.”

“Celeste? Celeste?” I stormed. “You chose to believe her after everything I’ve done for you?” All my fear and grief boiled up and poured out like poison. “How dare you touch my things without asking me? And look what you’ve done to this book—that was totally irreplaceable. I’ll never forgive you for this!” I gathered the pieces of Agnes’s diary together with shaking hands and tried to smooth out the torn pages. Harriet sat on the bed, her shoulders slumped and her head bowed.

“I’m sorry, Evie. I don’t know what made me do it.” She began to complain self-pityingly. “I really don’t feel right: I hear things; I can’t sleep. There’s this voice in my head all the time—”

“Oh, be quiet!” I snapped. I had never, ever been so angry.

“But, Evie…”

I marched out of the dorm, still shaking with rage. I had never liked this girl; I had forced myself to be kind, to help her, and how had she repaid me? After all that stuff about wanting to connect with Agnes and wanting to be friends with me and being lonely and voices in her head—it was a pile of self-indulgent, attention-seeking garbage, and I had had enough. She ran after me.

“Please, Evie, I need to tell you. It’s getting worse. I’m scared….”

“Leave me alone!”

“But I need to talk to you, and you said I could—”

I whirled around and glared at her, hating her timid, sallow face and her scared-looking eyes. “I never want to talk to you again.”

“What do you mean?” she said, looking shocked.

“Exactly what I said. Go and find someone else’s stuff to trash, Harriet, because I don’t ever want you coming anywhere near me again. Is that clear?”

Her mouth drooped and her dull skin became flushed with red blotches. She looked crumpled and useless and utterly pathetic. I felt my anger begin to cool, but she burst into tears and pushed past me, then ran clumsily down the marble stairs.

“Harriet, wait…”

It was too late. She was gone.

I felt sick with exhaustion, and secretly ashamed of myself. Then I remembered the torn journal that I was still clutching, and a wave of self-pity washed over me. I couldn’t face going down to the classroom. I hurried over to the curtained alcove that led to the secret stairs and shut myself into the old servants’ quarters, cut off from the rest of the school. Feeling my way in the dark, I crawled up the narrow steps to the attic and let myself into Agnes’s secret study. Then I sat at her desk and laid my head on my arms, and allowed myself to leave this world as I fell into the embrace of a deep, dreamless sleep.

When I woke up, I didn’t know where I was. For an instant I thought I was back at home in the cottage, but as I groped to light a candle that stood on the desk, I remembered everything. The burden of unhappiness settled onto me again like a great weight. I sat staring at the dancing candle flame, and realized there was nothing I could do about the way I felt. I had to live like this now, with this pain. My hands shook and my eyes were sore and my guts ached, but I had to go on living. I had to eat and sleep and study and be with people. There was no alternative. I had read books and magazines about girls who “couldn’t live”
without their perfect boyfriend, but I knew that it wasn’t like that. Even when you’re so unhappy that nothing is real, life doesn’t stop.

I looked around the little room crammed with Agnes’s possessions and wondered if I would ever come up here again. The jars of herbs and candles and secret ingredients hadn’t given me what I had been looking for. The Mystic Way had failed me, or perhaps I had failed the Mystic Way. I found a piece of bright silk on one of the shelves and wrapped the torn fragments of Agnes’s journal in it. I didn’t need it anymore. As I opened the drawer of the desk to hide the little bundle away, I remembered that we had hidden the Book there too. I hesitated, then picked up the heavy, leather-bound volume. The silver letters on the cover seemed to glow like slivers of moonlight. A way of healing and power…I needed healing so badly. I flicked through the pages and the Book fell open of its own accord. I saw an image of an angel, side by side with a hooded skeleton.
The Gift of Death…

For one terrible instant, the memory of Harriet lying crumpled at the bottom of the marble steps flashed into my mind. I could choose to leap down to those mesmerizing black-and-white tiles, throwing myself away like a sacrificed pawn in a great game of chess. Then the pain would
be over. I would never hurt again. I shut the Book roughly and thrust it into the drawer with Agnes’s journal.

No. I would never do that. That would not be the end of my story. I had to go on living, however much it hurt, just as Sebastian now had to face his fate. I glanced at my watch. I had slept through the day. It would be dark outside, the darkest night I had ever known. The new moon would rise like a silver promise. At midnight Sebastian would pass into the shadows forever, and there was nothing I could do about it. I stood up and slowly made my way downstairs, back to school. Back to reality.

Sarah and Helen were talking quietly by the fire in the entrance hall when I reached the bottom of the marble steps. They looked up anxiously and drew me over to the glowing hearth. “You’re so cold!” Sarah said. “We told the staff you’d gone to the nurse with a headache this morning. Hopefully they won’t check up on it. Oh, Evie, we’re so sorry—”

The great front door suddenly blew open, and a blast of wind and rain spattered across the threshold. A storm was brewing outside, and the trees were swaying in the driving wind.

“Close that door, Evie!” said Miss Hetherington, who was passing through the hall. “It’s going to be a wild night.”
I shut the door as she told me, but not before I glimpsed the slender arc of the moon, riding high behind the scudding clouds.

We hung about aimlessly, then went to the library, hoping to find somewhere quiet to sit together before the bell rang for bedtime. I was thankful that the library was empty, and I remembered vaguely that there was a music recital being held in the school that evening. I guessed most of the students had gone there after dinner.

“You haven’t eaten all day, Evie. You’d better have some of this.”

Sarah passed me a bar of chocolate. I wasn’t hungry, but I tried to eat some to please her while Helen stared abstractedly into space. There was nothing to say, nothing to do, nowhere to go. It was like waiting for bad news at a hospital, or sitting by the telephone and dreading that it would ring. As each minute passed, a tiny voice in my head started to drone.
Are you really just going to sit here? There’s still some time left. Time enough for a miracle. Time to do something.

There’s nothing I can do
, I answered myself wearily, but the voice started up again in a never-ending circle.
But are you really just going to sit here? There’s still time…time…time….

The clock in the library chimed nine. I woke from my
reverie. I noticed that the sound of the wind outside had grown, until it was like an angry beast prowling around the school. There was a muffled crash. Sarah looked up. “Sounds like slates falling off the roof. It’s a really bad storm.”

The door of the library opened and a young girl came in, blinking and looking about her. I recognized her as a girl in Harriet’s form. “Um…are you Evie Johnson?”

“Yeah.”

“Then this is for you.” She handed me a folded note, then scurried out again. An almighty crash of thunder rattled the building, and the lights flickered and went out. We could hear the sounds of startled screams and shouts in the corridors and distant rooms as the school was plunged into complete blackness.

“It’s a power outage,” said Helen. “Hang on.” She rummaged in her bag and found her little flashlight and switched it on. “That’s better. I guess the staff will organize candles and stuff until the power comes back on.”

“Should we go and see if they need any help with the young kids?” asked Sarah. “Some of them might be scared.”

“Wait, let me read this note first.” I held it under Helen’s flashlight and scanned the scribbled words.

“Oh, God…” I could hardly believe it. I felt faint as I read the note again, trying to make sense of it all. Harriet couldn’t go on…. Now I bitterly regretted the harsh words I had spoken to her. But how could I have known she would get so desperate? “Oh, my God…we’ve got to do something. I’ve got to help her.”

“Should we call the police?” asked Helen, her eyes round and anxious in the torchlight. “Or a doctor or someone?”

“The phone lines will be down with the power outage,” said Sarah. “What about the staff, one of the mistresses—”

“No!” I said. “There’s no one we can trust. They don’t
care about the girls, anyway, and explaining it to them will only cause more delay. We’ll have to go ourselves. If Harriet has only just left we might be able to stop her before she does anything stupid. We can get her back to school before anyone knows anything about it, what with all this confusion in the storm. Then we’ll get in touch with her mother somehow. That’s who she really needs.”

Suddenly, I needed my mother too.
Please help me,
I prayed silently, as we hurried down the unlit corridors to one of the many side entrances. We passed a cloakroom and grabbed some coats at random from the pegs, then plunged outside. The rain lashed into my face, and the icy wind took my breath away. The storm was raging all around us as we raced toward the long drive that led to the wrought-iron gates and the village beyond, where the grave of Lady Agnes lay under the yew trees in the churchyard. All the brave messengers of spring that had been announcing themselves in the last few days—the tiny green shoots, the first trembling new leaves—would be torn to pieces that night.
Please let us be there in time,
I begged. I hadn’t been able to save Sebastian, but perhaps I could at least reach Harriet, poor sad Harriet with her sick and fevered mind.

As soon as we were out of sight of the school, Helen
enfolded us in her powers, and a moment later we arrived at the lonely churchyard. The black trees swayed in the wild wind, and the little cottages in the village beyond were wrapped in darkness.

“Harriet? Harriet!”

The only answer was the sobbing of the wind and the groaning of the trees.

Passing the rows of slanting tombstones, we hurried to where a single grave was set slightly apart from the others. It was an old-fashioned tomb of stone, surmounted by a statue of an angel. The angel’s face had worn away over the years, and now it looked down with a blank expression, holding a scroll carved with a simple inscription:

LADY AGNES TEMPLETON,
BELOVED OF THE LORD

Harriet was standing in the rain with her back to us, staring at the angel. And slumped at the foot of the statue like a dying man, looking up at her in horror, was Sebastian.