Free The Turnarounders and the Arbuckle Rescue by Lou Heneghan Page A

confused.
    ‘Like Sleeping Beauty, innit?’ Alfie pressed.
    ‘Well, not quite,’ said Ambrose wearily. ‘But the Hidden tried to make amends by giving the children the gift of reincarnation. They’d still die young but they’d be reborn and they would have skills –’
    ‘Yes!’ said Leon, suddenly. ‘And they made a promise. When they saw what had happened they vowed that it could never be allowed to happen again.’
    ‘That’s right!’ cried Ambrose triumphantly. ‘If they were ever needed again they would return and they would fight. And they sealed their pact with blood.’
    ‘Sick!’ crowed Alfie, punching the air.
    Ambrose ignored him. ‘That promise was so pure, so true and selfless that it has survived for nearly three thousand years.’ He looked at Ralf expectantly. ‘Well?’
    Ralf felt some kind of comment was now definitely required. Everyone was looking at him.  ‘Er – it’s a good story.’
    ‘Yes, it’s a corker, isn’t it?’ said Ambrose, sarcastically. ‘Ring any bells?’
    ‘No – who’s it by?’
    ‘Dear boy,’ said Ambrose, sounding quite exasperated. ‘It isn’t by anyone. It’s true!’
     

 
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
    The Forgotten Promise
     
    Leo was standing up now, looking less green but still a bit shaky.
    ‘It’s all true,’ he said.
    ‘Come off it!’ Seth cried. ‘Fair Folk? Where’s the evidence? If there had been another, entirely different race of people living here all those years ago there’d be archaeological proof! Bones, burial mounds, artefacts, all kinds of things.’
    ‘Of what kind?’ Ambrose asked. ‘The Hidden are immortal. They have no dead to bury. They use no metal. They seldom throw things away…’
    ‘Hang on,’ Valen said softly. ‘A minute ago you were talking like this was all in the past but just now you said ‘are’. ‘The Hidden are immortal’, you said. You sound like you’re saying they’re still alive.’
    ‘Well, that is the definition of immortal isn’t it, Valen?’ said Ambrose.
    ‘They still exist?’
    ‘Naturally.’
    ‘Where are they then?’ Seth asked.
    ‘Here. In Britain. They prefer remote, out of the way places, forests and moorland, mountains, you know. They have ways of remaining hidden – hence the name.’
    ‘Ok, fine. Fine!’ Seth was almost shouting now. ‘The Fair Folk exist and are living in Britain right now. And I’m the Easter Bunny!’
    ‘No, Seth,’ said Ambrose gently. ‘You’re a Turnarounder.’
    Now it was Ralf’s turn to laugh. ‘ Turnarounders! And what are they?’
    ‘You’re the children from the story. The Athraigh – the Turnarounders. You won the battle. ‘You’re special, you know you are!’ Ambrose grasped Ralf by the shoulders and fixed him with those formidable eyes. The shake he gave him was just a little one but Ralf could feel the force in it, like water churning behind a vast dam. ‘You are the Turnarounders. You promised to come back if things went wrong. I’ve been watching you for centuries – that’s how I know so much about you. Happy Birthday, by the way.’
    Ralf was scared now.  ‘How… how did you know it was my birthday?’ he spluttered.
    ‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Wolf. I know all about you. I know you better than anyone because I not only know you in this life, I’ve known you in all the other lives you’ve lived before.’
    ‘Other lives?’ Ralf’s face was bloodless. ‘Who was I when I was alive before then? Tell me that!’
    ‘You were Ralf Osborne again last time. Before that you had different names but you were always The Wolf – always you.’
    Ralf just stared.
    ‘You know I’m telling the truth. Think. Use your logic,’ Ambrose glanced anxiously towards the stationary sand in the hourglass. ‘You know what I’m talking about. You recognise people! Strangers you think you know but you’ve never met before. You’ve never seen them in this life, but you knew them in the past!
    ‘Then why don’t