The Wind of Southmore (22 page)

“
Now give me the pearl,” he said, and the slithering voice was
greedy and expectant. Arlen felt for the pearl, warm and throbbing
between her fingers, and her hand was heavy with the stolen life of
the red jewel. She had opened her mind to it, and all she could see
was the darkness, the gaping mouths and empty eyes and pitiful
cries of the poor, abandoned, lost souls duped by it. Abandon
yourself. He had chosen the wrong words. For while she may have
been abandoned by everyone else, she would not abandon herself. He
wanted blood, Penmorven blood, and he would have it. And she lifted
her hand out of her pocket, slow and heavy with the ruby, and
brought it in a furious smash against the whirling glass wall of
the cavern. The stone shattered, and her face and hands were
covered with blood as the sea rushed in through the broken wall,
choking, smothering her. She could see Penvynne’s face turn to a
mask of fury, and the strange hybrid form rose and swelled, until
there before her was the monster who had claimed her ancestors
before her.

“
Yours!” she cried, fighting to climb above the waves. “I’ll
never be yours!” And she sank below the water.

“
What’s happening?” Robbie, who was still holding onto Arlen’s
lifeless body, could see the waves churning in fury, hissing in
anger, as the black tentacles thrashed the surface like
thunderbolts.

“
I have to go to her,” Alice said, and prepared to walk into
the water.

“
Are you crazy?” Robbie pulled her back. “You’ll be killed.
It’s bad enough that one of you – ” he stopped, his voice
breaking.

“
Don’t you see?” Alice said gently, and held out the white
pearl, which lit the scene before them like a gentle candle. “This
is my part now. Arlen was here from the beginning, she had to start
it. But I have to help finish it. Stay with her,” she told him, as
if Arlen had somehow split into two people. She held the pearl
before her in her open hand, and the sea drew back and parted until
she could walk right through the mist and the damp. The jewel
glowed luminously in her palm and lit the way, and the waves roared
and spat around her but did not touch her.

The path
was straight and smooth, but it seemed endless, and she began to
tire after what seemed like hours of walking. The walls of water
threatened to move in closer and closer still, and the icy breath
hissed around her ears and cheeks, and even with the gentle warmth
of the pearl resting in her palm, she could feel herself grow cold
all over. She mustn’t falter, she must – focus. But it grew harder
and harder, and the path seemed to lead to nowhere and she could
find no trace of Arlen or their foe. Her courage was not gone, but
she was beginning to doubt her way, and as if in answer she could
feel a puddle streaming and foaming around her feet in a lacy, icy
froth. It was then that she stopped, for she had come to a dead
end. A shining green glass of water blocked her way, and beyond it
she could see her twin struggling, drowning, her lifeless left hand
ringed by whirls of crimson blood.

“
No!” Alice pounded the wall desperately, hammering with the
pearl when she found that her hands were no use. The waters surged
and swelled around her; she could feel them creeping in an icy flow
up to her knees, and she shook with cold and fear but still she
pounded on the wall and still she couldn’t break
through.

“
Let her go, you bastard!” she screamed, and screamed again as
the wall of water suddenly splintered, shot through by a fleshy
black tentacle which seized her around the waist and lifted her
high before its gaping mouth and fiery eyes. “Let – her –
go
,” her voice was fading
now, and she could barely breathe.

“
I had such high hopes for you two,” came the voice, ringing
through her head until it felt as though it would explode. “Why do
you fight against destiny? But as you will not come of your own
free will, I must take other measures.” And Alice froze as she
gazed into the awful mouth, a red tunnel of gaping flesh, teeth
like pincers.

“
No,” she moaned desperately, her struggles now slow and
futile.

“
Stupid children,” said the voice, “to think you could stop me.
Your ancestors have failed all these years. Why should you be able
to fight what is your own future?” And a long white human arm rose
from the black, scaly body of the creature, and the pale bony hand
opened to reveal the black pearl.

Alice’s
face paled. Then Arlen was –

“
Yes, child,” the voice murmured softly. “Your sister tried to
fight and she could not escape. Like Imogen, so long ago. Her
sister did not follow, and yet the outcome is still the same. And
now, like all those before you, you will come with me,” and Alice
felt herself raised into the air and the drop below was nothing but
the terrifying mouth. She closed her eyes faintly, and felt all go
black. She could see Arlen before her, sinking, dropping like a
stone, and yet she could hear her voice clearly, the conversations
coming back into her mind as if listening to a recording, “– part
of each other – cannot exist without the other – ” and it seemed
suddenly that it was not Arlen speaking at all but another girl,
very like her, in a deep wine coloured dress. The words circled
around and around her head like a charm until she knew what she
must do, and she opened her palm wide to reveal the white pearl,
pale and brilliant, and threw it directly into the creature’s face.
It spun through the air in an arc, leaving a sparkling trail of
white behind it, and the black pearl rose from the centre of
Penvynne’s hand at its call, rising up to meet it. For a moment the
two orbs hovered before each other in midair, like the moment
before an eclipse, and then suddenly they merged in one blinding
flash which cut through the sea and the sky like a sword, slitting
the thick grey clouds like a fish’s belly and admitting the
brilliant glare of the sun, which struck through the gaping rents
in bright paths, illuminating the whole landscape.

Penvynne
faltered and cringed as a sun ray ran through his open mouth like a
bullet, and the dark flesh of the creature began to shrivel and
burn until it disappeared in an enormous whirlpool, dropping Alice
into the water, which felt warm and gentle and carried her slowly
to an outpost of rock where she clung, shaking.

Around
her, the village opened into the sunlight like a flower. But where
was Arlen? She stood on the rock and called and called for her, and
dived into the water time and time again, but Arlen did not appear,
and Alice could not prevent her heart from sinking as she knew her
sister’s life must be under those waves.

A glimmer
of sunshine bobbing on the seafoam caught her attention, and she
reached down, only to fish out Arlen’s charm. “Oh no,” she
whispered, and her heart fell and her skin seemed to crawl with
fear. She gazed out towards the coast, towards the faint figure of
Robbie still bent over her sister’s body. She had not come
back.

Alice sat still, holding the two charms between her fingers.
She could not believe that Arlen was gone. She could
feel
her; she was there,
just lost, that’s all. But how could she find her in the depths of
the ocean? And how could she find her in time?

“
Please help me. Please,” she whispered, her fingers running
softly over the swirling curves of the charms. “Mac said all the
Penmorvens have the gift of magic to a certain extent. Even if I
never have it again, please help me this time.” But the wind still
whistled around her ears and the waves still lapped, even as the
sun shone warmly down on her shoulders, and she stared hopelessly
at the charms until it seemed that the curled patterns twined into
each other, and she could see the figure of the dragon stalking
restlessly behind them. It was then that she saw the gateway. Her
heart a pressed spring of excitement, she held the charms together,
fitting like the pieces of a puzzle until the gold moved and merged
before her into a flowing gate, and the doors sprang apart to let
the Penmorven dragon free.

It
circled in the air for a few moments, as if flexing its wings and
testing its strength, a radiant creature of fire and gold, and with
a sudden glance at Alice dived clear into the waves and appeared a
few moments later with Arlen, a dripping, lifeless Arlen, but still
Arlen, and all around them rose shafts of rainbow light, singing
from the waves on the wind, the centuries of victims suddenly free.
And Alice found herself clasped suddenly, gently, in an enormous
claw, and flown smoothly back to shore, where Robbie’s
grief-stricken face lit in wonder, and Arlen, cold and drawn on the
sand, her left hand crushed and bloody and still wearing the traces
of the ruby ring, began to cough and choke, and opened her eyes,
which were a strange, beautiful violet colour in the new
dawn.

They
stared as the golden serpent rose aloft in the sky, glimmering
amidst the glowing shafts of light, and faded, as if into the sun,
before them.

Slowly,
they made their way back through the crowds of cheering villagers
to Mac’s rickety cottage at the end of the pier. It had been a long
day.

The old
wooden planks were as soft and creaky as ever, and the painted
gate, which had come loose again in the wind, was swinging noisily
as they stumbled to the door. The small lamp was still burning, but
Mac did not appear.

“
Grandad! Grandad?” Robbie called, bursting through the door.
“Grandad, we’re back!”

“
Where is he?” Alice whispered, looking around.

“
I don’t know,” Robbie answered sharply, turning the other way.
He disappeared upstairs for a few moments, and when he reappeared
he was shaking his head.

Meanwhile
Arlen, still trembling and breathing quickly, had entered the
balcony. The others found her there, sitting silently by Mac, his
body cold and frozen on the deck chair by the telescope, one eye
still pressed to its round brass rim.

“
Grandad,” Robbie said softly, and buried his face in the old
man’s hair.

“
He got what he wanted, though,” Arlen said, dully. “He saw the
end of it.”

It was
several hours later, or at least it seemed so, when Mrs Trevallen
found them holding their quiet vigil around the old man’s body, the
newborn rays of sun shining pink and golden on their skin.
Everything seemed to be a blur after that, and much less real than
all that had gone on before. The villagers, as if reborn suddenly
in the new sunlight, could not seem to do enough for the twins, and
clustered around, praising them and petting them, much to Alice’s
discomfort. Arlen didn’t even seem to be aware of them.

Dr
Trevallen pronounced Mac’s death to be the result of a sudden heart
attack, and removed the body to the small parlour that Mac had
rarely used, ready to be driven to the morgue at the hospital at St
Ives the following day.

He gently
set Arlen’s broken hand in a cast and sling, assuring her that it
would be right as rain in a couple of months. He also suggested
that the twins and Robbie would be very welcome to spend the night
at his house, and Mrs Trevallen agreed that this was the best idea,
attempting to bundle them up in warm clothing “as if we were three
year olds,” Alice muttered to Robbie in disgust.

Arlen had
not seemed very aware of what was happening until that moment, but
as Mrs Trevallen attempted to lead her to the car, she stopped
short. “I can’t,” she stammered, her own voice sounding strangely
unfamiliar to her ears. “I have to go home, I – what about Aunt
Maud?”