Immortal Beloved (Book 2 of The Knight Trilogy)

PREFACE

To the East of Eden is a land called Nod. It is a land of dreams and nightmares; a place where the fallen search for their lost souls. Here, the air is filled with ghostly memories; of regrets for things which have been done, and for those which have not. Lies whisper through the air. Tears replace the rain.

When Cain slew his brother, it was to this place that God sent him.

Some myths say that Cain was cursed to be the father of a new breed – a breed of men that lived off of the blood and souls of others. Time has named them ‘vampires’ – creatures of mythology. In truth, the curse was more universal, and affected each of his offspring, generation after generation.

That curse is loss: A hunger that refuses to be satisfied.

Loss breaks your heart. It breaks your mind. In the long, dark hours between the light, it haunts sleep and attacks dreams. For those of us who have lost, The Land of Nod offers no peace or rest.

I’ve become afraid of sleep, afraid of shutting my eyes for longer than a blink, because every time I do, a vision of him unfurls.

Golden. Godlike.

Light shimmers from his body as if he is bathed in the light of his own orbiting sun. He stands in front of a towering obelisk. His eyes, black as night, close to reveal a second pair of painted eyes. It gives the unsettling feeling that he is always watching. He parts his soft, full lips, inviting me in. When I am close enough, they whisper to me in the way that lover’s lips reveal their deepest secrets. It is a single word: A word that fills me with the dizzying nausea of being at high altitude.

Immortal

This is when I wake, hot and feverish in panic, as if my mouth has been crammed full of sand and I can no longer breathe.

It is always the same and I am left with an insatiable longing.

Chapter 1

RELICS

Meadowlake was in ruins. Reduced to nothing more than a skeleton of rotting wood and crumbling stone, Blake’s home had been ravaged by time and was past recognition. Impossibly, it was only yesterday that I had last visited: It may as well have been a hundred years ago.

With desperation, I span around on the spot, my mind refusing to believe my eyes. The diamond lake was now choked with reeds and was the colour of decay. The Meadow, usually embroidered with wild flowers and butterflies, was now a scrubland of weeds; beetles and ants crawled over its surface.

Instinct drew me to the turret door. A piece of paper had been tacked to it. Where the rain had rusted the nail, a red streak ran down the page: It looked like blood. Blake’s flowing purple script ran over the page but it was barely readable through the ink-bloom flowers that littered the letters. They obscured the details, but by the end of it I knew all I needed to know.

Understanding hit me with the force of a balled-up fist. They had left me.

They had all left me.

No! This can’t be! I screamed into the forest.

I looked down at my hand to check it hadn’t all been some crazy, wild fantasy. The ring, which Blake had given me, sparkled brightly in the early evening gloom. The light was fading fast. I looked back to the ruinous tower. A large, black bird launched out of the building’s corpse and screeched a warning cry.

The forest soaked up my screams until, empty of everything, I fell to the ground and dreamt. Memories tumbled through my mind; each one a stab of sorrow.

Blake Beldevier had arrived with the snow. From the very first moment I’d seen him, I had loved him. It had been like some elemental pull; something magnetic. I’d never believed in love at first sight – believed such a myth belonged to idiots. It’s easy to mock until it happens to you.

Whatever was between us in those first weeks, it set about a chain of events which caused pain to almost all of those we loved. Of course, there was no way we were going to get away with what we did and not be punished. Divine justice would be issued.

When I fell in love with Blake, it broke the heart of my childhood sweetheart, Sam. My betrayal was an act of unforgivable cruelty. It had also led to Sam being trapped in a three month coma full of nightmares.

The events of the last forty eight hours had been our days of judgement. The death of Blake’s brother by his own hand had been a heinous crime against the natural laws of the universe. It was foolish of me to hope the punishment would not be severe. Now it seemed that Blake’s exile to Egypt with Morgan was just the beginning of the losses we would suffer.

It was dark when I woke to find the nightmare of losing Blake and Meadowlake had followed me into the waking world. The twilight hour had spread a misty blue through the trees and had cast a dream-like veil, creating the illusion that everything was draped with spider’s webs.

Fairyland had dissolved, and I had the fearful feeling that I’d disappeared along with it.

Whilst I’d slept, invisible hands had placed a book into my arms, which on waking, I found cradled to me like a child’s comforter. It was leather bound and old – a relic: An object of The Realm. I searched into the shadows of the forest, but whoever had delivered it was long gone.

I flicked through its pages with a desperate hope of finding the answers it promised to contain, but the pages were blank. A red anemone flower had been pressed between the centre pages. It was flat and lifeless. It was not a message I understood.

Stumbling through the forest, book grasped in one hand, the letter from Blake in the other, a deep-rooted homing instinct kicked in. It was as if I was running away from a terrible danger, and I was but the danger was me. Overwhelming impulses jumped out at me from behind every tree. As I ran, I knew Pain was waiting for me, standing in the shadows, biding his time.

The pounding of my running reflected the battleground raging in my head – life versus death, sanity versus lunacy. It was a screaming, violent fight which was almost blinding.

Finally, the trees thinned and I could see home. The back gate nearly cracked off of its hinges as I ran through it. I made it into the house just as a boom of thunder roared and the skies started to fall.

The house was empty.

The stairs slipped from under my feet, my clothes tightened, strangling the air from me. By the time I reached the bathroom, most of the thin, cotton blouse had been torn from my burning body, leaving a confetti trail of buttons and fabric along the stairs.

In the sanctuary of the bathroom, I threw the shower onto its coldest setting and got in, complete with the remnants of my clothes. Ice cold needles hit my skin. The water camouflaged my tears. I slammed my balled fists into the hard, white tiles time after time, until the energy built into a terrible crescendo.

A motion rose through my lungs until all at once, a heaven-cracking scream rebounded off of the tiles, and pinged off of the metallic taps. I was trapped in a ricochet of bulleted emotion, from which there was no escape.

Chapter 2.

PARADOX

I moved through an unreal world. Days, hours, minutes, all bled into one great trick of time. Sometimes I’d find myself standing still amongst a blurring speed of motion; the whole world moving at a frightening, almost manic, pace whilst at other times, it was as if everything had moved under water, slow and ghost-like.

During this time, I regularly found myself freaked out and in the wrong place at the wrong time – as if I were living to the tick of a different clock. They were small, insignificant acts in themselves, such as turning up at the canteen after the end-of-day bell or going to the bookshop at six o’ clock on a Sunday morning. Then one Monday, I found myself in a Physics lesson when I took Biology.

Okay, chaps! Date. Title. Einstein’s theory of relativity. Underline it! Objectives … Mr Green paused, scrawling the various bits of information onto the white-board. He seemed to forget about the objectives, becoming distracted by trying to get the projector to focus; he had about as much luck with it as he had with his class.

Hey, Mina, why are you here? Joe’s hushed tones came from beside me. I didn’t turn to look at him.

I don’t know, I answered truthfully.

Have you seen Daisy this morning?

I shook my head in response. Daisy was my oldest friend. At one time we’d been inseparable, but our friendship had been another casualty of the Blake affair and we now went whole days without seeing each other.

Joe leant in and whispered, "I bet she’s working on her Head Girl speech. I swear she thinks if she gets it, it’ll mean she’ll own the whole of Sir John Fieldon School." He let out a laugh which was full of affection.

At last, Mr Green managed to start his lesson. He didn’t notice me, or if he did, he was perhaps just relieved to have someone sitting down and paying attention. And he did have it – entirely.

"Now you all think that one of the great certainties in life is that time and space are an absolute; that they are fixed, and no matter what happens they always will be: WRONG! His change of emphasis on the last word startled some of the students to attention and at last the room was quiet. Time and space are not absolute. TIME is NOT fixed: Time is purely a perception."

I found myself gripping my pen so tightly that the plastic began to stress under the force, desperate to surrender and snap.

From the back of the classroom, James, a boy not half as clever as he thought himself to be, shouted out, Like when you’re really BOOOORED and time goes soooo slowly, man.

A small ripple of laughter ran around the classroom before being cut short by Mr Green’s acidic tone,

No – not really, James! A tight smile erupted and a sparkle in his eye turned Mr Green from victim to victor. "You see, our understanding of time, our ability to perceive and measure it, all depends on where you happen to be standing at any given point.

Now we can only understand time if there are things in a relative motion to ourselves; if other things are moving around us. Place yourself in an objectless vacuum, and the motion through time suddenly feels perfectly still – and, believe it or not, seconds on identical watches can tick at a different rate…

I drifted back into my own world as Mr Green proceeded to give several examples which he hoped would illustrate the point to the sea of bewildered faces.

Time in a vacuum may feel like it is standing still, but outside in the real world, with everyone always travelling forward, moving on – time has no option but to follow.

It was already the beginning of July.

Three months had passed since he had left.

Chapter 3.

OBLIVION

Throughout this wilderness time, Delta had taken me on as her personal mercy mission, driving by the house and picking me up to deposit me in various places at allocated times. This way, she ensured the general routine of my life continued; even if I was reluctant to participate.

To call mine and Delta’s relationship a ‘friendship’, would suggest it was conventional – Delta didn’t do conventional. The closest way to describe who we were to each other would be to picture two survivors of a shipwreck stranded on the same desert island.

She’d arrive in the morning to pick me up along with my bag, which she would roughly pack whilst letting out sighs of intense frustration. And when, despite these obvious displays of annoyance, I sat vacant, she’d grab my hand before dragging me downstairs and out of the door. As she did this, she’d shout an overly cheery goodbye to Mum as if exchanging a secret password.

Her handling as she bundled me in the car wasn’t gentle, but it was offered with a weight of love and care which made me suffer it in silence – as if all of it were the most normal behaviour in the world. At the end of the day the process would be reversed, inevitably ending in a whispered conversation between her and Mum. I didn’t understand what moved Delta to do this for me. She wasn’t the sort that struck you as immediately charitable and we didn’t really have a past together, but whatever her reasons where, I was pleased to have her in my world.

This evening it was no different. We opened the door to find Mum cooking dinner. The smell of rich food made me feel sick. Uncle Josef, my fellow sufferer of a broken heart, was sat in the darkening lounge. He was already halfway down a bottle of red wine and it wasn’t yet six in the evening. I looked in on him and he returned a weak smile of solidarity.

I made an unsuccessful dash to the stairs as Delta made her exit.

Mina? Mum called from the kitchen.

Yep, I’m just heading upstairs, I called back, willing my voice to sound cheery.

I’m going out shortly. I have dinner with Andrew.

Okay, I said, refusing to give up my foothold on the stairs, I’ll catch you later.

Dinner’s in the oven – make sure Josef eats.

I don’t need mollycoddling. Josef’s flat voice travelled through from the lounge.

It would be a long evening with both Josef and me rattling around in our own private vacuums.

From my room, I listened to Mum singing as she showered and dressed. I realised with irritation that I was jealous. I lay on my bed and turned the volume on my iPod to max, hoping to shut out the sound of her happiness. Within the hour she was gone, leaving the scent of jasmine flowers and vanilla in her path.

I must have had my eyes open and looked awake, because the next thing I was aware of was Josef standing over me like some surreal mime artist, mouthing silent and frustrated words. He flapped his hands around, motioning me to take off my headphones.

ARE – YOU – HUNGRY? He shouted at me slowly, not realising I could now hear him perfectly well.

No. I shook my head. You?

No – not really, he said, his volume back to normal. Could murder a glass of wine though – fancy joining me?

I nodded and smiled a response.

Garden. Five minutes, he said over his shoulder as he left.

I crumbled off the bed, grabbed my thickest cardigan and made my way downstairs towards the garden. It was a beautiful dark night and I was pleased to get out of the stinking house. I looked up at the stars and thought how late it must be for it to be so dark on a summer’s evening.

A blue plume of cigar smoke curled up into the air, revealing Josef’s hideout as being on the bench at the far end of the garden. Now hollowed and rickety with rot, the bench had been positioned by Mum to look straight out onto the night-time forest.

When I was little, I’d gone through a phase of being obsessed with the barn owls that lived in our neighbour’s garage. Mum and I would sit under an old eiderdown duvet, drinking hot chocolate which she’d bring out in a flask. She’d pour out just a little at a time so it wouldn’t get cold. We wouldn’t say much, we’d just sit there and listen to the sound of the owls calling out for a fellow voice in the darkness.

On rare and precious nights, the owls would fly out of the forest like silent phantoms; swoop right by our lookout and onto their killing-fields. On times like these, Mum would tremble and let out a heavy sigh, as if the beauty was so overwhelming it caused her pain. I only truly understood this when I first saw Blake.

‘Owl Watch’ was one of the happiest memories from my childhood. Even as a child I’d looked on my mother, Martha, as something independent from both me and the world. I knew through instinct that the love she had for me was bestowed as a privilege. It wasn’t that she couldn’t love, but she just wasn’t really connected. It was as if human relationships were just simply an unnecessary distraction, a kind of momentary day dream from the fantasy she really lived in. I guessed that this was what grief did to you; it kind of snapped the wire. I was glad that she seemed to be eventually laying Dad’s ghost to rest and had found love with Andrew.

Tonight the skies were empty.

We’ve got a slight matter of disposing of a casserole before your mother comes home! Josef’s voice sounded overly large in the darkness. He smiled and it was the first genuine smile I’d seen from him in several months.

I looked up to the sky. It was so clear, I could see to the point of star-sprinkled infinity. Moving amongst the stars the planets and the meteorites falling to earth, the lights of a plane winked. I thought about how close we were to everywhere in the world, and yet how distant we were at the same time. My thoughts turned to Blake in Egypt. I wondered if he would be looking up at the same night sky and thinking of me. Josef broke my thoughts by handing me a glass. The bowl of it sat in the palm of my hand and it felt reassuring solid and potentially fragile all at the same time.

As I am technically the responsible adult, I’m going to lay down a few ground rules. Josef spoke with the feigned voice of adult authority and I rolled my eyes in response, clearly expressing that I knew, we both knew, Josef was anything but a responsible adult.

Don’t look at me like that, Minnie Boo. As your uncle it is my job to ensure you are safe from harm. He paused, the smile slipped from his face and his voice took on a more serious tone, From all harm… he fixed me with his eye, "… including from yourself.

You know, it’s not always weapons or diseases that kill – sometimes what kills you is the darkness: The light in your heart fades and everything turns cold, as if someone has put out the sun.

For the first time since Blake had left, I looked straight into someone’s eyes and made a brief connection with the living world – but like a poor reception on a rescue radio, the hope flickered out, leaving me with nothing but static and the knowledge of being completely alone and uncertain of survival.

I’m sorry, I said with embarrassment.

"Sorry! What is there to be sorry about? It’s about feeling sad and it’s okay to feel sad – it’s even okay to cry – unless you’re a boy, then it’s not okay." He shook his chin in mock disapproval and let out a gentle laugh.

I took a seat next to him as he topped my glass up with a generous slug of wine.

If you think getting off your face will help, then go ahead – give it a go, but I tell you now, it won’t help as much as you hope it might, said Josef.

Incredulously, I looked at the wine bottle then back to him before responding with a laugh-talk, "Interesting parenting approach, Josef. And where, for the love of God, did you pick up the term, off your face?"

Firstly, I’m not your parent – thank goodness, and secondly, have you failed to notice how impossibly cool and down with it I am? He winked. "But seriously, there