Part 31 (1/2)

Phew!' Aninka said.

Enniel was watching the door. Be careful with that one, won't you, Lahash,' he said.

Lahash inclined his head. My thoughts entirely,' he answered.

Chapter Twenty-Four.

Monday 26th October: Little Moor Owen stayed out all night again. On Monday morning, Lily rose early, feeling surprisingly refreshed, and did not mind that the house was empty. Emma had left, although she had obviously cleaned up the kitchen. Sunlight streamed into the room, promising another day of Indian summer. Lily opened the back door, then fed the cats. She prepared herself a bowl of cereal and went out into the garden to eat it. There was no hint of strangeness in the air, no alien scents, no hurrying breeze. All was tranquil, if still unnaturally hot. Lily felt comfortable in her body; all residue of soreness had gone. The happenings on the High Place might never have been, but for her memory. If she had dreamed of Peverel Othman while she'd slept, she could not remember it. Neither had she dreamed of the garden again. Today, if Owen deigned to return to her, she would tell him some of what she knew. The sky above her was the blue of honesty.

In her mind she laid out the facts, as if they were coloured cards: her father, the Grigori, Emma/Emilia, Peverel Othman. Should she discard any of these as being harbingers of lies? Emma, for all her eccentricities, was convincing, and she was the first card. If she really was an ancient crone made youthful once more, then surely the rest must be truth as well. All that had happened at the High Place, and Lily's oddly vivid dreams, seemed only to confirm Emma's fantastic claims. Lily felt that in order to move forward from this glittering point in time, she only had to decide whether something exciting and wonderful was happening, or something terrifying and potentially destructive. Yet, how could she make this decision without living what must come with all its dreadful, fearful and exciting possibilities?

A cat jumped onto her lap, just as Owen came sauntering down the lane towards her. She could see his bright hair above the hedgerows. Lily rested her head against the back of the ancient deckchair, watched him and waited. She wondered whether she would see signs of Daniel Cranton on him. The thought was like something growing through her gums, slightly painful but irresistible to probing.

Owen spotted her as he turned onto the short driveway. Lily sensed his desire to pause, consider, even though he did not physically appear to hesitate. She could see the wariness in his eyes. He expected confrontation.

Daniel gone to school?' she asked politely as he came into the garden.

Don't start.'

Lily laughed. Start what?' She arranged the cat over her shoulder and stood up. I presume you've been at Low Mede this weekend?'

And you've been here all alone?'

Coldness, barriers. This was not conducive to the sharing of secrets.

Lily went into the cottage, and Owen followed. She turned to look at him, and realised she hardly recognised him now. If she touched him, his skin would feel different. How much of him had Daniel touched? She felt a brief, proprietorial anger. I have things to tell you,' she said.

Owen's face was expressionless. I'm not sure I want to hear them.'

You will. Sit down.'

Owen paused before doing so. Well? What is it now? Another confession? This is pointless, Lil. I'm not trying to get one over on you all the time. If you've been with Othman, I think you're mad, and playing a dangerous game, but don't imagine I've been at Low Mede just because of that.'

Lily realised a lie was necessary. I'm not interested in why you've been at Low Mede. I don't care. Do what you like.' She paused for effect. I want to talk to you about our father.'

Owen pulled a quizzical face. I hope you're not going to say it's Othman.'

Lily shook her head. No, but I know who our father is. In fact, while you've been amusing yourself elsewhere, I've discovered a lot of things about who and what we are.'

Owen's expression was unhelpful. Who from? Othman?'

No. Someone else. Someone who knew our mother well.' Before Owen could speak, voice the question, she reached over the table and laid a hand across his arm. O, we are Murkasters.'

She expected Owen to laugh and he did. Who told you that?'

She wished now it had been someone else, someone whom Owen might respect. It was Emma Manden, that is, Emilia Manden. O, you won't believe what's happened!'

Owen realised he might have been wrong to leave his sister alone for the past two days. Her feverish excitement unnerved him. Lily, Emilia's off her head. She's lost it. You can't believe what she says.' As he spoke, he imagined he could hear a key turning in an old door, at the end of a long, dark corridor in his mind. Revelation, he felt, was unrolling like an ancient ma.n.u.script, each turn uncovering another brilliant picture.

It's true, O. I know it is. Listen...' She did not tell him about visiting the High Place with Othman, but related as much as Emma had told her about herself and Helen Winter's relations.h.i.+p with Kashday Murkaster. Owen kept silent, regarding his sister with a blank face, almost as if he refused to be impressed or surprised. She expected a sarcastic outburst when she'd finished telling him, but when he finally a.s.sumed an expression, it was faintly worried.

Well, say something,' Lily said.

Owen wriggled his shoulders. You've either been hallucinating, or conned by a mad relative of the Manden's, or it's the truth. What else can I say?' He frowned, wondering how much to tell his sister about Daniel's visions. Explaining them might be embarra.s.sing. He shook his head. This is unbelievable, but I suppose it makes a crazy kind of sense, too. Daniel and I have been... investigating things as well, Lil. Now it's your turn to listen. We know about the Grigori.' Carefully, he explained about Daniel's visions, omitting any mention of s.e.x.

Lily began to shake as Owen's story unfolded. She hugged herself in an attempt to stop it. Something is happening, and it's happening to us. Messages. Dreams. Everything will change.

When Owen mentioned the names Ninlil and Shemyaza, she interrupted him to relate her dream of the garden. It is the same, O,' she said. Her face was white. How can Daniel and I see the same things? All these names are new to us.' She rubbed her arms fiercely. It scares me. Did Shemyaza look like Pev to Daniel, too?'

Owen shook his head. He didn't say so, no...' He paused. There's more though. Daniel had a peculiar experience in Cresterfield on Friday night. Listen to this.'

When Owen had finished speaking, Lily put her hands across her face. Oh my G.o.d, what does this mean?' She peered at Owen through her fingers. Is Peverel Othman a murderer?'

What? How did you reach that conclusion?'

Lily gestured wildly. Well, it's possible, isn't it? Daniel took the bangle, saw a murder, and picked up the name Shemyaza. Shemyaza is a fallen angel, a bad Grigori, and I saw Shemyaza with Pev's face...' She held out her arms. Well? What does that say to you?'

It's a bit far-fetched is what it says,' Owen said, but he spoke without conviction. It's more likely to be symbolic. If we really are Kashday Murkaster's children, and there's some truth in the Grigori legends, then all this Shemyaza stuff relates directly to us. Racial memories? Shemyaza had a bad reputation, and subconsciously you could be putting that onto Othman. It would be too much of a coincidence if he'd murdered the girl Daniel heard about in Cresterfield. Wouldn't it?'

Lily slapped the table. O, I don't want to believe it, of course I don't. I've been alone with Othman, made love with him...' She shuddered. But in my heart, I feel he's capable of anything.'

Owen stared into her eyes. And does suspecting him of murder change your feelings for him?'

Lily glanced away. Emma says we must use him. She thinks he can help us reclaim our heritage.'

Use him?' Owen laughed without humour. Lily, have you gone insane? We should get rid of him, get him out of our lives, report him to the police, anything! Even if we are Murkasters, what good is that knowledge to us, really? Do you want to break into Long Eden and set up residence there? Do you want to prove legally that the place could be ours? What is it you want?'

Lily closed her eyes to damp her irritation. She felt Owen was overlooking the obvious. How could they ignore the truth of who they were? O, we've always known we are different. How many times have you said so? All I want is for us to know ourselves, to be aware of ourselves, and yes, I want to know our history, all of it. It's got nothing to do with the house. Anyway, don't we owe it to the people here to find our power? The Murkasters abandoned them, let them wither away.'

Owen jumped to his feet. Listen to yourself!' he exclaimed, throwing up his arms. This talk of powers, inhuman relatives, is madness. We have to look at things objectively.'

Lily looked up at him. She felt slightly afraid. Owen, I know it's true. I just know it. There was no aunt in this cottage before us. Mum never had relatives here. She worked for a farmer named Lennocks. Emma told me. She only came back here because of who our father was. She thought Little Moor would protect us. And it has. Don't we owe these people something for that?'

Owen shook his head vigorously, then sat down again. The past has nothing to do with us, Lil. Supposing these Murkasters, Grigori, whatever they were, did have extraordinary power, and supposing, however unlikely it is, we could find it within ourselves, think about the responsibility that would bring. If we could give people longevity, we'd be... well, enslaved by them. They would be terrified of losing us.' Owen rubbed his eyes fiercely. No, this is too much to take in. It's crazy. Emilia Manden is an old crazy woman, and you're too dreamy, Lil. You shouldn't listen to her. A week ago, you'd have just laughed at all this.'

You haven't seen her,' Lily said calmly. Talk to Emma, O, look at her, then tell me I'm dreamy! Listen to what she can tell you.' She smiled weakly. I know you must feel the same way I do. We know, in our souls, this is the truth.' She touched the place between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with a closed fist. We are Murkasters, we are Grigori. Our suspicions were never wrong, O. We are different.'

In the afternoon, Emma Manden made an entrance. Owen was delving inside the car's engine on the mud driveway next to the cottage, Lily reading one of her mother's old books in the deckchair on the brown lawn, cats asleep beneath the shade of shrubs and trees. Emma came striding down the lane, her long hair swinging. She looked as if she'd just stepped from another, more magical world, into the sweltering, decaying autumn of Little Moor. Lily would not have been surprised to see seaweed in Emma's hair, or desert sand upon her bare legs. Emma ignored the open driveway, and opened the little gate into the garden, stepping onto the lawn.

Owen, Emma's here,' Lily said, putting down her book.

Owen reared up from the innards of the car and stared at the woman, as if from behind a veil.

Emma smiled at him widely and lazily. h.e.l.lo again, Owen Winter. Haven't seen you for a while.'

Let's go inside,' he said.