Timebender, page 5
The old oak tree still seemed out of place, its crooked branches at odds against the tamer foliage of its neighbours. Once I’d checked no one was watching, I circled the trunk until I found the strange etching I’d noticed on my previous visit. Two tear-shaped marks faced each other, like a broken eternity symbol. Before I even touched the mark, my blood rushed to attention.
I hadn’t known what it meant before, but now I recognised the feeling.
That pull, deep inside my being, urging me to make a sacrifice.
A drop of blood.
Without pausing to debate it, I sliced open the pad of my thumb with the help of a nearby bramble and pressed the weeping cut to the centre of the symbol, uniting the two halves.
‘What happened here?’ I asked. ‘What happened to my mother?’
Silence.
Disappointed, I was about to turn away when a sudden surge of dizziness washed over my body. I leaned against the trunk, thumb still in place, and closed my eyes to a familiar swirl of red. But instead of floating away to wherever the old Gods dwelled, I found myself suspended in a thick blanket of fog. I tried to waft it away, but my arms refused to move. I watched with curious apprehension as an image formed in the swirling mist.
My mother, unconscious on the forest floor, leaves tangled in her dark hair.
My father kneeling beside her, his face cast in shadow.
I called to them, but my voice fell flat. When I tried to run towards them, my legs wouldn’t carry me. My father was talking, but I couldn’t make out his words. The only sound was the roar of my own blood, echoing in my ears. Fear burrowed into my gut when I saw the white froth on Maman’s lips.
‘Help her!’ I shouted, as if it would make a difference.
A small glass vial sat in the palm of my father’s hand. His grip was steady, despite the worry knotting his brow. My stomach lurched when he drew a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and selected the sharpest blade. He pressed the tip to the soft flesh below his thumb and gathered the beading crimson drops in the vial. Then, he did the same to my mother, who didn’t even stir when the knife pierced her skin.
My parents’ blood mingled in the glass container, my father’s glowing strong against the darker, duller shade of my mother’s. A silver pocket watch hung from a chain around his neck, but he didn’t reach for it. Instead, he lifted her head and trickled the contents of the vial into her mouth. Then, he pressed the still-bleeding cut on his hand against the carved symbol on the trunk of the tree.
‘Save her,’ I whispered.
It was stupid. I knew she would survive, just as I knew she would die later as a consequence of who I was. But I couldn’t help the heart-rending surge of longing that rose inside me and made me wish my father could somehow alter the future to keep us all together, safe and whole.
Braced against the trunk, he pressed two fingers of his free hand against her lips and closed his eyes. I sensed the fire swirling inside him, so similar to my own, and watched him reach for the blood my mother had swallowed. Just as I had reached for my own blood inside Gauthier’s veins, not that long ago.
But instead of healing what needed to be healed, my father’s blood ignited and blasted through Maman’s helpless form like an inferno.
She thrashed in his arms, fingers clawing at her own skin.
‘Fool,’ a voice said in my ear. ‘It would have been kinder to let her go.’
I screamed and whirled.
A man stood beside me, made entirely of mist. His massive body reminded me of the oak tree behind my parents, his arms and legs thick as branches. His dark gaze sank into mine and held it, as if he could see right to the bottom of my soul.
‘Hello, Sophie.’
I whimpered.
‘What are you doing, poking at the past?’
‘I need help,’ I breathed, aware of how pathetic I sounded. ‘Answers.’
The silhouette rippled. ‘And you think to find them here, in my forest?’
‘Your forest?’
‘I am Sucellus. God of trees and protector of woodlands.’
‘I don’t remember seeing you before.’
‘I was there,’ Sucellus rumbled. ‘I witnessed your deal with Epona.’ He seemed to grow until he filled the entire space beside me. ‘A deal you aren’t working very hard to honour, girl. Must I remind you of the consequences?’
‘I don’t care if I die.’ My eyes stung, but the tears wouldn’t fall. ‘All I do is hurt the people I love.’
‘You would abandon your father out of self-pity?’ Disgust laced the God’s words. ‘You are weaker than we thought.’
I ignored him and watched my mother struggle against my father’s grip, which had shifted to her throat. ‘What’s he doing? Is he... is he choking her?’
‘Not her,’ Sucellus said. ‘The sickness inside her. Look.’
I gaped. Not only could I sense my father’s magic, I could see it too. The burning force of his blood battled with something dark and sticky inside my mother’s body. Something Papa was working his damned hardest to erase from existence.
‘What’s that? The drugs she took?’
Sucellus tilted his head. ‘You don’t recognise it?’
‘Am I supposed to?’
A cold wind chilled the skin on my legs. ‘You carry it too,’ the old God said. ‘It muddles the power in your blood. It has driven you to abuse Borvo’s gift, even though you know better.’
Heat flooded my cheeks. The water. Of course the Gods would know about that. Was there anything they couldn’t see? Tante Adèle was right about you. She may have got the details wrong, but she understood more than I gave her credit for.
‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered.
‘Sorry isn’t going to save you, girl,’ Sucellus said. ‘Epona may have granted you a temporary hold on your magic, but you must still learn to wield it, if you wish to succeed. That kind of control requires fortitude and temperance, qualities in short supply to those like you.’
‘He burnt it out of her.’ I nodded towards my father and the battle he was steadily winning. ‘My aunt said my mother never used again.’
‘Yes, but at what price?’
My father struck once more. The last of the darkness inside my mother’s chest vanished under that final onslaught of shimmering fire, but the magic didn’t stop there. A flash of red lightning fizzled through Maman’s body. Her life force sputtered, threatening to disappear as Papa scrambled to pull it back. He wrapped his power around it and held on, teeth gritted, until it stopped trying to die. By the time he released it, only a kernel remained, weak and dull and diminished.
Broken.
‘Remove a single thread,’ Sucellus said, ‘and the whole tapestry falls apart.’
I closed my eyes, unable to bear the sight of my mother in pain and barely breathing. My father cradling her as if she were a newborn, asleep in his arms.
‘He ruined her,’ I whispered. ‘He broke her mind.’
The chill in the air eased a little. ‘He failed to understand how the different parts of her were connected. Her passion, her love of life...’ Sucellus trailed off.
He didn’t have to elaborate. I’d spent my whole childhood wondering why Maman wasn’t like other mothers. Why Papa kept making excuses for her moods, no matter what she did or said.
‘Why are you showing me this?’
‘You wanted answers.’
‘About my magic! How to use it! Not... not this.’
Could I forgive my father, knowing what he’d done? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t even know what to say to him, when the time came. You would have done the same to save her, the voice in my mind whispered. Even if it meant losing a part of her forever.
‘You may have your mother’s weakness,’ Sucellus said, ‘but the fire in your veins burns strong and true. You must seek the counsel of your peers, if you wish to learn the secrets of your blood, but you should not linger among them too long. Finding your father won’t be easy. We would not ask, if we could retrieve him ourselves.’
‘Is he in danger?’
The God of trees pondered his answer. ‘He appears to be neither alive nor dead, and therefore cannot be harmed or healed.’
Stupid riddles. ‘That makes no sense. How did it happen?’
‘That is one of the things we wish to know.’
They can’t see everything, then. I frowned. ‘You’re not going to punish him, are you?’
‘Your father has been toying with matters beyond his calling for years.’ Sucellus waved a mighty hand towards my parents’ huddled figures. ‘He was always careful to mask his ambitions, stealing and twisting snippets of time on a scale small enough to avoid raising concerns... until recently.’
‘That doesn’t answer my question.’
‘Raphaël Constantin’s work could shatter the foundations of our world, if it fell into the wrong hands. We shall decide on his fate when we know more about his plans for the knowledge he possesses.’
A deep sense of unease lodged in my chest like the jagged tip of a broken blade. ‘You want me to betray him.’
‘We want to establish where his loyalties lie.’
‘And then what?’
‘Then we shall see.’
I frowned. ‘Sounds like he’d be better off left alone.’
The mist roiled and billowed. ‘Do not test our patience! You say you do not fear death, but there are other ways in which you will suffer if you break your promise.’ Sucellus moved in front of me and leaned in until I felt his cold breath on my face. ‘You have been alone for a very long time, Sophie Constantin. Even before you knew what you were, you watched others shy away from you. Your whole life, people have rejected and condemned you before you could prove yourself worthy of their friendship... or their love.’
I shook my head hard, hoping the gesture might make him vanish, but Sucellus wasn’t done. I felt his grip on my mind as his presence demanded every last shred of my attention. ‘Taking the Oath is the only way you will ever belong,’ he said as the woods around us darkened. ‘If you won’t do it for your father, then do it for her.’
He nudged me – an icy caress against my hand – and gestured to where a pram rested beneath the outer branches of the oak tree. To the child asleep inside, oblivious to her mother’s suffering.
Me.
‘Mind that darkness inside you, girl,’ the God of the woods whispered before I could speak. ‘Tame it fast, before it spreads.’
The fog closed in like a shroud, cloaking my parents in the past once more. Instinctively, I reached for them, but felt a searing heat beneath my fingers instead. Scalded, I whipped my hand away from the oak’s trunk and opened my eyes.
Too late.
The oak tree was burning.
I ran as fast as I could, the heat of the flames raging at my back.
The flames I’d accidentally started and failed to notice, too caught up in the horror of what my father had done. You could stop them, if you had some of that water. I screamed at the voice inside my mind to shut up. I’d tried to calm my pounding heart enough to snuff out the fire, but the storm inside me refused to die and the fire roared in response, crimson and deadly.
I burst out of the woods by the road just as the first fire engine pulled up, sirens blaring. The oak tree stood at the heart of the forest. Without a helicopter, they would have a hard time reaching the source of the blaze.
One of the firemen spotted me as he jumped out. ‘Hey! Did you see what happened? Are you hurt?’
I shook my head and mumbled something about boys smoking cigarettes. The man turned to the driver, who was barking orders into his radio. Several other firefighters rushed around the vehicle, pulling equipment out of the back. Before they could ask more questions, I made a dash for the nearest residential street.
Shouts echoed behind me. My feet pummelled the ground so hard my legs threatened to seize up, but I didn’t stop.
Couldn’t stop.
Couldn’t own up to what I’d done, even though every single inch of my skin prickled with guilt. You’re a coward. I clenched my teeth and pushed my body harder. You already destroyed your home. Now you’re going to burn down Vichy, too? So much for proving Sucellus right. What next?
I didn’t hear the siren, or the car, before the sudden squeal of brakes split the air. Something large and hard smacked the back of my leg and sent me flying.
Shock punched the air from my lungs. Time slowed just enough for me to wonder how bad the damage would be before I hit the pavement, pain barking through my hands and knees.
A sob rose in my throat, burned to nothing before it could escape.
‘Can you hear me?’ Someone crouched beside me. ‘Are you okay?’
Despite the grit digging into the raw flesh of my palms, I couldn’t move. My limbs shook beyond my control. The stranger – a man – somehow managed to guide me into a sitting position. I saw the flashing lights then, and the familiar insignia on the front of his pale blue shirt.
Merde.
‘Oh... hé, Régis!’ the police officer called to his colleague, who approached me from the other side. ‘That’s the missing girl!’
‘Sophie, is it?’ Régis turned over my trembling hands before I could hide them. ‘That looks nasty. I’ve called the ambulance, they should be here soon.’
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to close my fingers to hide the wounds, but they wouldn’t move. Keep calm. Don’t lose it. Don’t let them see–
‘Your aunt is worried sick,’ the first officer said. ‘We told her to wait a few hours and give you a chance to come home, but she was convinced you were going to hurt yourself.’ I sensed his scrutiny, even though I couldn’t bring myself to look at either of them. ‘Seems like she had a point.’
I opened my mouth, but my voice withered in my throat. Any moment now, they would notice the glow of my blood, the sparks, the–
‘It’s okay, Sophie,’ Régis said gently. ‘No one’s angry at you. Help is on its way.’
Confused, I cracked open an eyelid. The skin of my hands and knees was a bloody mess, but nothing was burning. If I looked closely, I could make out a faint shimmer in the depths of the wounds, but if you didn’t know it was there... I shut my eye again and focused on numbing my mind as much as possible.
‘Take it easy,’ Régis said. ‘You’re in shock. Paul, get the first-aid kit, would you?’
I shook my head and curled my hands against my body, wincing from the pain. You can’t let them see. The two men muttered something to each other. I only caught the words “taken something” before I felt a hand on my back.
‘Sophie, why did you run into the road like that? What happened?’
I pressed my lips together, teeth digging into flesh to stop myself from talking. The fire had drained most of my magic, but any minute now, that blasted hum could start up again. You can’t let them take you.
‘Mademoiselle Constantin, can you look at me?’
Régis’ tone had lost some of its warmth. He knows there’s something wrong with you. I forced myself to obey, startled when he flashed a torch into my eyes.
‘Are you under the influence of any illegal substances?’
I stared back, every inch of me locked in a battle I couldn’t afford to lose.
‘He’s asking if you’ve taken any drugs,’ Paul said, a little louder.
I shook my head. The motion made my brain rattle.
‘The hospital will have to run some tests. You could save them the time and hassle by telling us now.’
Even if I’d wanted to answer, my voice wouldn’t obey. Instead, I let myself sink as deep as I could go into a place of shadows, where nothing existed but the next beat of my heart, and the next, and the next. I breathed against the tightness in my chest until it loosened. Until the burning tide receded to a shimmering puddle, a reminder that I needed to keep as still as I could, for as long as I could.
‘Fine,’ Régis said. ‘Either way, we’ll know soon enough.’
The wailing ambulance drowned out the rest of their questions, and I let myself be taken away.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘Sophie! Sophie, wake up!’
I groaned and lifted my head from the couch cushion I’d been using as a pillow. A weak orange light bled into the living room from the corridor, but a quick glance at my phone revealed it was still the middle of the night. A string of whispers reached my ears, followed by a muffled curse.
I shot upright. ‘What’s going on? Is everything okay?’
Oncle Simon clattered down the stairs, a suitcase in each hand and a mixture of elation and utter dread on his face. ‘We’re off to hospital. Adèle’s in labour!’
‘Right now?’
‘Yes,’ my aunt said tersely, gripping the banister. ‘Right now.’
‘But I thought–’
‘We all did. Turns out this little girl has other ideas.’
The ghost of a smile stretched my lips. Finally, something good. ‘So will I get to meet her, if...?’ I let the question hover unfinished.
Oncle Simon and Tante Adèle exchanged a look. ‘Nothing’s changed, Sophie,’ she said. ‘You’re still going to Lyon.’
‘You can see her when you get back,’ my uncle added. ‘When you’re better.’
‘But–’
‘They’re expecting you at La Jouvence. If you don’t turn up tomorrow, you’ll lose your place.’
My place. The last dregs of sleep curled up and hissed like pieces of paper on a bonfire as my mood shifted from hope to anger. I scrambled to stamp out the embers. Don’t think about it. In my head, I’d already started singing the lyrics to Ed Sheeran’s Galway Girl, making sure I didn’t miss a word.
Anything to keep my mind busy.
‘How am I supposed to get there if you can’t drive me?’ I wouldn’t – couldn’t – let myself hope they’d overlooked that tiny detail.
‘It’s taken care o–’ Tante Adèle moaned and braced herself against the wall. Oncle Simon reached for her arm, but she batted him away and focused on her breathing until the contraction subsided. ‘I arranged it with Nasserine Rabbani,’ she panted. ‘She and Mariam will take the train with you, then go and see their relatives.’
