one?
Sarah disentwined herself from Nicholas and looked into his face. She gasped at what she saw. His eyes were as red-rimmed as hers, and just as troubled. He looked as if he was on the verge of breaking.
“Don’t be upset, Nicholas. I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine,” she whispered, but the blurriness was returning. “I’m so tired. I can’t speak. I can’t think. Why are you doing this to me? What are you doing to me?” She wasn’t sure whether she was making any sense now.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want this anymore, Nicholas. Please stop,” she muttered, leaning against him, unable to move.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, but he didn’t lift the fog – he wanted to hold her in his arms for as long as he could, and never let her go.
It was late the next morning when Sarah walked into the kitchen.
“Are you feeling OK?” Sean asked her when he saw her pale face and tousled hair. He put down his sgian-dubh – he and Elodie had been practising the runes again. “You look terrible.”
Sarah stretched and turned slowly around, taking in the scene. “I’m fine. I fell asleep.”
“Come and sit down,” Sean interrupted. He didn’t want to know the details. “I’ll make you a cup of coffee.”
Sarah smiled wanly at the offer. Caffeine man, she used to call him, because he thought that everything could be fixed with coffee.
“There might be biscuits to go with that,” Niall began, pulling a tin out of one of the cupboards.
Elodie chipped in. “Oh, me too, thanks!”
Mike stood up. “Here, take my chair.”
“I read the last letter. My grandmother murdered her daughter,” said Sarah suddenly. Her words fell like stones, and the room was silenced. “She wasn’t good enough. My aunt Mairead, I mean. She was frightened, she couldn’t take the dreams. They were too much for her. So Morag drowned her. Just there.” Sarah pointed out the window, towards the beach. She spoke as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was telling them.
“Jesus,” whispered Niall.
“So anyway. I’m going for a walk. Alone,” said Sarah before anybody could suggest otherwise.
“No you aren’t. Unless you have a death wish,” replied Elodie. “The demon-bird is still out there.”
Sarah shrugged. “I need to be alone.”
“I’ll walk ten steps behind you, OK? But I won’t leave you.” Sarah looked at Elodie, surprised. There was warmth in her voice, something she wasn’t expecting.
But Sarah misunderstood. I hate to be pitied. She lifted her chin. “No thanks.”
Elodie took a step back, biting her lip. Sean was about to speak, but too late.
“I’ll come with you,” said Nicholas, appearing as if from nowhere.
Sarah swung round. “No. I need to think,” she whispered, a tight note in her voice.
Nicholas’s face darkened. “Of course. I’ll leave you be.” He stood back to let her pass.
“You’re not going anywhere on your own.” Sean strode over and took Sarah’s arm, turning his back on Nicholas.
Finally, Sarah exploded, shaking him off in a single violent movement. “Will everybody let me be! I’m a curse! I’m a walking curse! And I want to be alone!”
Sean and Elodie exchanged a quick look, and unspoken words passed between them. Sarah would not go alone.
Nicholas frowned as he watched Sean storm out after her, but he didn’t stop him. Sean’s form blurred and vanished as he walked onto the beach.
Sarah sat on the rocks at the far side of the bay, lashed by the wind and rain, looking out to sea, eyes dark with sorrow. Let the demons come. If the last of the Midnights dies, it might not be entirely a bad thing.
Sean sat not far from her, invisible to her, so immobile, so still that he was sand and water, part of the landscape, watching over Sarah, keeping her safe.
46
Death Written in Blood
Our end is coded
In the spark of our beginning
The demon-bird sat panting, his back resting against the stony cliff. I failed again, he kept telling himself, choked with fear and fury. His hands were clutching his chest, where blood oozed from his wounds. Please stop, he begged. Please heal. Please let me have enough strength to complete my mission.
With huge effort he removed the mask from his face, loosened his beak and mane and laid them on the sand beside him. Relieved of the disguise, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Next, he removed his leather cloak, which he used to catch the wind as he flew, and the claws.
Tancredi Falco grabbed some rags from