it. They tip-toed in as quietly as they could into the vast, stoned-paved vestibule, without even being aware that they were doing so – as if they were scared to disturb somebody. There was nobody, of course, but the space didn’t feel empty.
“This is a psychic’s paradise,” said Elodie in a low voice.
The high ceilings, the grey stone floors, the walls full of portraits of long-dead people. The soft, low creaks of an old building forever settling, forever whispering. The chill, musty air, which, Sarah remembered suddenly, would stay chill despite the fireplaces, because of the thickness of the walls and the height of the ceilings. One of those houses that has been ancient forever, since the day it was built.
Sarah shivered as they stood in the hallway, taking it all in. Memories flooded her, of the many times she’d stepped into the Hall with her parents. It was as if she could see the little girl she used to be, walking onto the stone floor with her satchel and the cello case strapped to her back, following her tall, strong-framed father and her graceful, lithe mother, with her black hair spilling down her back – the hair Sarah had inherited. Her Grandfather Hamish had died soon after Sarah’s birth, so she didn’t remember him at all – but the image of Morag Midnight walking down the grand staircase to meet them was burnt into her memory. Her grandmother had been nearly as tall as her father, always dressed in dark colours, standing proud and straight-backed.
“Hello, Sarah,” she always said, without ever giving her a hug or a kiss. Morag wasn’t that kind of person. But Sarah could feel that her grandmother was happy to see them, all three of them.
“I’m back,” she whispered to the empty space where her family had been. Everyone stood still.
It was Elodie who broke the spell. She jerked her head towards the door. “Sean. There’s someone outside.”
“Demons?”
“I don’t know.” She closed her eyes briefly. “Two of them.”
Not yet, prayed Sarah silently. Give us just a few hours of peace …
They all turned to face the door, readying themselves. Sarah’s hands were burning, Sean’s sgian-dubh was poised, Elodie’s lips were darkening. As Sean pulled the heavy wooden door open they saw Nicholas’s ravens swooping across the sky and twirling over and around Midnight Hall, as if they were of one mind. Two men stood at the foot of the entrance steps.
Sean squinted in the dusk, trying to make out who – or what – they were. But before he could decide, Elodie screamed, “Niryana!” and shot out, fast and agile. She threw her full weight towards the mysterious figures, and in seconds, one of the men was lying there, unconscious.
25
Deadly Princess
To meet your eyes and see
We’re on the same side
To feel for once that we
Are not alone
Mike had driven from Edinburgh to Oban in a stolen Mini – borrowed, Mike insisted. They had abandoned the car on a double yellow line near Oban harbour with a note on the front seat: I come from Edinburgh, take me back. Thank you.
They had no money left to rent a boat, so Niall went to the pub and came out with somebody’s wallet.
“I’d better watch my pockets while you’re around, Niall,” Mike commented.
“No point. There’s nothing in them.”
“Very funny. Now, where’s our transport?” asked Mike, a nauseous feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. Just thinking of more sailing made him want to be sick. They managed to convince a German couple that they were going to surprise some friends camping on Islay. The generous fee helped, and the couple sailed them over in no time. All they had to do now was find Midnight Hall.
They walked under a milk-coloured blanket of clouds in silence. The sky was heavy with snow, and the wind blew bitter, showing no sign of relenting. There were cottages and little farms dotted here and there on the rolling hills, few and far apart, and they walked on, heads bent against the wind, freezing and exhausted. They tortured themselves with talk of a warm bed, and of food as they walked. Finally, they saw a red sandstone mansion – the first house they’d seen that looked grand enough to be Midnight Hall.
“Hopefully, that will be it,” said Mike wearily. “But even if it’s not, I’m counting on a warm welcome.”
“Even just a cup of tea will do me,” said Niall feebly.
They approached the house with trepidation, Mike with his hand in his