Beltane

by Alys West

  Fiddling with the button on her jacket, Zoe flipped her hair to hide her face. That hadn’t been a cuddle or a hug. He’d done it because he thought she needed protecting.

  “Sorry for manhandling you. You must have thought I’d lost my mind.”

  She raised her eyes to his. “What’s going on? And don’t trying fobbing me off again or say you can’t tell me because it’s not good enough. If things are so bad that Maeve can’t see me with you then I think I have the right to know why!”

  Blowing out a long breath, Finn rubbed the scarlet mark on his forehead. Then his eyes met hers. “Okay. But not here. There’s a pub around the corner. Let’s go there.”

  Zoe followed, not minding when his longer legs covered the ground more quickly. Her head was spinning. She needed time – like a week - to catch up.

  The outside of the pub was badly in need of another coat of whitewash. A weak light shone on the sign, The Sun Inn, painted in blue and gold. Finn waited for her in the doorway. As she joined him, he opened the door and gestured for her to go first.

  Half of the clientele turned to look at them and Zoe was very glad of Finn’s solid presence behind her. This was not the kind of place she’d have come on her own. A row of drinkers stood by the bar. Others sat at tables watching football on the flat screen TV on the wall. In the back room a couple played pool and a bearded hippy read a newspaper with a pint of real ale in his hand and a scruffy dog at his feet.

  Finn led the way over the grimy floral carpet. He pulled his hat off and dropped it on a round table in the corner farthest from the bar. “What can I get you?”

  Zoe sank into a chair upholstered in worn red plush. “Red wine.”

  Finn walked across the room, pulling money from his pocket, looking like any other guy on the way to the bar. That he wasn’t had become very obvious in the past half hour. Any other man would have laughed at her outburst, cracked a joke about her imagination running away with her. She shuffled the beermats around the table. She was about to get answers and suddenly she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear them.

  Finn set a large glass of wine on the table in front of her. She took a huge gulp, felt the warmth of the alcohol flow through her. After a moment of silence she said, “So?”

  “So?” Finn raised his pint of Guinness. Chin up, eyes fixed on his, she waited. After licking the creamy froth from his lips, he leaned forward and in a low voice said, “Why do you think Maeve’s a witch?”

  Zoe winced a little when he said the ‘W’ word. “I only figured it out this evening. When I saw the shop in town, Morgan le Fey. Do you know it?”

  “No. What’s a shop got to do with it?”

  “That’s what made me finally realise what was going on. I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner. It’s just that I’ve never come across any,” - Zoe hesitated then rushed on - “witches or wiccans or whatever they call themselves before.”

  Finn raised his eyebrows. “You’re telling me a shop made you decide Maeve’s a witch?”

  “Kind of. It was more like the last piece in the jigsaw.” Figuring she’d start with the least revealing part, she told him about Maeve’s altar and the inexplicable fear she felt from it. He listened intently, interrupting occasionally to ask questions. Relieved to finally be able to talk about what she’d seen at Anam Cara, Zoe started to relax. When she explained about the leaves above the gate and in the jar in her room, Finn asked her to describe the ones she couldn’t identify. Instead, she took out her sketchpad and drew them.

  “Rowan,” he said.

  “Is that significant?”

  “It’s used as protection against evil or enchantment.” Finn’s mouth twisted. “Bay is to protect the house and holly strengthens the spell.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “Padraig was big on folklore. He taught me a lot.” Finn’s eyes were momentarily sad, then he grinned fleetingly. “Is that all? No offence but that doesn’t sound much more than typical Glastonbury, New Age nonsense.”

  “No, that’s not all! I saw a book in Maeve’s office this morning.”

  “In Maeve’s office?” Finn’s voice rose. He glanced around the pub to see if anyone had overheard before leaning across the table, his voice not much above a whisper. “What the hell were you doing in there?”

  “Looking for the telephone number for the doctor.” When Finn’s frown deepened, Zoe said, “Tanya needed to see a doctor but I couldn’t find Helena to ask for the number. Maeve was still in her room or in bed or whatever she does in the morning and I couldn’t find the telephone directory. I thought it might be in Maeve’s office.”

  “And you went in there? That was an insanely risky thing to do. If she’d found you...” Finn shook his head.

  “I know!” Zoe’s hands flew out. “I knew when I did it that it was crazy but I was so angry with Maeve for the way she’d ignored Tanya and it wasn’t locked so I just went for it.”

  “Jesus, Zoe!” Finn ran his fingers through his hair, making it even more tousled. “And you did this after you knew about people getting sick?”

  Zoe nodded.

  “You don’t lack guts, I’ll give you that,” Finn said, a grudging admiration in his voice. Surprised, Zoe smiled at him. He didn’t look away. The moment stretched and just when it became too intense he said, “Does Maeve know you were in her office?”

  Zoe swallowed hard, taking a second to focus. Her thoughts had slid away to relive the moment when his arms had been around her. She shook her head. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t. But -” she bit down on her bottom lip “- that’s only half of it.”

  Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “Tell me you’ve not snuck into her bedroom as well?”

  “I’m not that stupid!” Zoe spread her hands, palms up, on the table. “Well, maybe you’ll think I am when I tell you about it. But I didn’t mean to be. It was kind of one mistake that just snowballed.”

  “That sounds dangerous.” Finn’s mouth curved into a brief grin. “But first I want to hear about this book.”

  She explained about the black book falling from Maeve’s desk and how she’d read a few words as she picked it up.

  Finn leaned forward. “Can you remember them?”

  “Something about a circle and a staff. Honestly, I should have figured it out then but I heard....”

  “Can you remember the exact words? It’s important.”

  “It was something about breaking the staff and burning it in the centre of the circle,” she said. “There was a diagram as well.”

  “Can you draw it?”

  “I can try.”

  As she picked up her pencil Finn said, “Did you see the title of this book?”

  “Yeah. It was The Seventh Book. I thought it sounded kind of creepy.” Zoe’s brow furrowed as she tried to remember what she’d seen.

  “You’re sure?”

  “About the title? Absolutely,” Zoe said, sketching in the last cross.

  “Jesus! That’s priceless.” Finn barked out a laugh. “What a gift!”

  She pushed the pad across the table. “What’s so funny?”

  He picked up his pint and saluted her. “Zoe, I owe you one for this.”

  “You do? Great!” Zoe took a sip of wine. “Then how about answering some of my questions?”

  “Not until you’ve told me what else you’ve been up to.” Finn’s grin faded as he studied the sketch. “Can I keep this?”

  “Be my guest.”

  He tore the sketch from the pad, folded it and zipped it into the pocket in his fleece. “Okay then, what’s the other thing?”

  Zoe took a deep breath. “You know the tree in Maeve’s garden that was hit by lightning. Of course you do. You were there.” Her eyes flickered to his face. “But what I don’t understand is how you didn’t get more injured when it exploded? I mean, the garden was shredded. It was like a bomb had gone off. But you seem to be more or less alright.” Gesturing to his plastered fingers and the mark on his forehead, Zoe sa
w that his face had frozen.

  For a long moment, Finn stared into this pint glass. “Zoe, there are some things I can’t tell you, that it’s better that you don’t know. And this is one of them.”

  “Do you have any idea how annoying that is? Why won’t you let me decide what I should and shouldn’t know?”

  “Because by then it would be too late and you’d already know.”

  Zoe crossed her arms. “Not necessarily. You could tell me just the headline and then I could decide if I wanted to know the rest.”

  “What if it’s dangerous to know the headlines?” Finn leaned forward.

  “Oh my God, Finn! Are you like MI5 or Special Branch or.... ” Zoe threw her hands up. “Or is that something else you can’t tell me for my own safety?”

  “I swear I’m a conservationist.” Finn smiled fleetingly. “Currently unemployed but that is what I do.”

  “Then what are you doing involved in something that you keep telling me is dangerous? It’s not like it’s some kind of environmental disaster.”

  Finn drank deeply from his Guinness, his eyes not leaving her face. “You were telling me about the tree?”

  Biting her lip, she studied his face. This was not working out as she’d hoped. So far all she’d done was talk. But he didn’t look like a man who was about to open up. “Okay, but I haven’t forgotten about the answers you’re not giving me.” Eyes fixed on her wine glass, she gave him a carefully edited version of how she’d found the doll, with no mention of talking to the Green Man.

  “Can you draw this doll?”

  Zoe darted a glance at Finn’s face. His eyes were narrowed, his nostrils flared. She blinked and dropped her gaze to the blank page in front of her. Why did he suddenly look so angry? Taking her time, she sketched the doll first with its bark wrapper, then without. She pushed the finished drawings towards him. There was silence as he studied them.

  “How did you find it?” As his eyes flicked to hers and then away, Zoe caught a glimpse of terror in their depths. That shook her as nothing he’d said had done. She looked unseeingly away from him. If Finn was scared then what the hell was going on?

  Finn repeated his question. Her fingers fiddled with her pencil as she answered. “Because of the lightning. I’d probably never have seen it otherwise. The bark wrapped round it was like camouflage against the trunk.”

  “I’d forgotten the thunder storm.” He slumped back in his chair, brow furrowed. Zoe wanted to ask him to explain but some instinct warned her not to intrude. She looked away.

  Twenty two players in brightly coloured kit ran across an emerald pitch on the flat screen. Pool balls rattled as they were racked. The drinkers at the bar erupted in laughter. Finn said her name once, then again. Turning her head, she was startled by the intensity in his eyes. “What happened to the doll after that?”

  Zoe told him how she’d shoved the doll in her pocket when Helena returned. She skimmed over the part where she’d argued with Helena then faltered unsure how to explain what she’d done next that wouldn’t make her sound certifiable. “I’d had a couple too many of these on Saturday night.” She ran her finger around the rim of the glass. Finn’s eyes were fixed on her face, watching her as if every word she spoke was critical. “And I had this ridiculous feeling about the bloody doll. I know it sounds stupid but it really freaked me out. It was like something from a horror film. And the more I looked at it all trussed up like that and scowling at me, the more I didn’t like it. So I decided - I don’t know why – to cut it out of the bark wrapped around it because I thought it’d make it less scary so...”

  “What?” Finn grabbed the table, making the glasses wobble.

  “Yeah, I told you, crazy idea.” Zoe shrugged. “And it didn’t even work. Stupid thing looked just as weird when I’d finished. I had to lock it in a drawer before I could even think about going to sleep.”

  “That was it? That was the only reason?” Finn stared at her. His grey eyes were dark with emotions that she was suddenly afraid to guess at.

  “What can I say? I was drunk. And I so wish I’d never done it. The damned thing’s caused me nothing but trouble. Because in the morning I found out that Maeve was looking for the doll and then I kind of panicked because I’d unravelled it and there was no way I could admit to Maeve that I’d taken it. So I got rid of it.”

  “Of all the....” He stared unblinkingly at the carpet.

  Zoe could tell he was struggling with something. But she had absolutely no idea what. She doodled in the corner of her pad as her brain tried to make sense of his reactions.

  Suddenly his gaze snapped back to her. “What time did you find the doll?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe around eleven.”

  “What time did the tree come down?”

  “About half twelve, I think.” Zoe frowned. Everything that happened at Anam Cara on Sunday evening seemed more significant now she viewed it through the prism of Finn’s reactions.

  “And you got rid of the doll in the morning?”

  “I chucked it in the river. Near where we met.” Zoe smiled briefly but Finn didn’t respond.

  “And the bark and the wool, what did you do with that?”

  “I’d put them in the bin in my room and to be honest, I forgot about them in the morning. But after Maeve asked me about the doll yesterday afternoon and I had to lie to her about it – and that’s not something I want to do again in a hurry - I went back to my room, grabbed them and dumped them in a bin in town.”

  “Had Maeve been in your room while you were out?”

  Zoe hesitated. “Maybe. Someone had been in to put the jar of leaves and needles on the windowsill. But I thought it was Helena. She’s the one who does all the work.”

  “Could she have seen the bark and the wool in the bin?”

  “I suppose. If she was looking for them.”

  “Has Maeve asked you about the doll again? Said or done anything that shows she suspects you?”

  “She asked me about it yesterday afternoon and after that I thought maybe she’d guessed. But I honestly think that was just my guilty conscience. No one’s mentioned it since so I kind of stopped worrying about it.”

  “Don’t underestimate her!”

  “What do you mean?”

  Finn leaned closer, his face only inches from hers. “I mean, that if Maeve has the slightest suspicion that you’re involved in the doll going missing then you need to get out of there.”

  “I know. I’ve been trying. It’s not that simple.”

  “I get that. But with what you know, what you’ve seen, it’s too risky for you to be there.”

  “Don’t you think you might be over-reacting? I’m definitely going to leave on Thursday. Isn’t that enough?”

  “If Maeve knew you’d taken the doll....” Finn’s hands balled into fists. “You have no idea what she’d do to you.”

  “Then tell me!” Zoe threw her hands up. Finn slumped back in his chair, his eyes tight, his mouth a hard line. “If you want me to leave then you have to give me some damned good reason. Not more cryptic comments and warnings that I don’t understand because” – Zoe’s voice rose as she got more agitated – “they’re just making me really scared.”

  Finn sat immobile for a long time. Then he ran his hand over his eyes and sighed. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything,” Zoe said. “If I have to decide whether I stay there or not I want to know everything.”

  “I can’t tell you everything.” Finn raised his hand as she started to protest. “But I will tell you about Maeve. Enough for you to understand why I think you should leave.”

  “Okay, let’s start with that.”

  Chapter 13

  Finn waved away Zoe’s offer to buy this round saying, “It’s the least I can do.” While she waited, Zoe doodled on the edge of her pad, creating a series of black, spiky shapes. Hearing him laugh, she glanced over. He was smiling, enjoying a joke with the barman. It seemed impossible that he’d just
told her it wasn’t safe for her to stay at Anam Cara.

  She’d thought yesterday that he was confusing to be with, a man of light and shade. Now she was worried about the depth of the shade. There had to be a damned good reason why he was afraid of Maeve. And, despite what she’d said to him, she knew it wouldn’t take much to convince her not to return to Anam Cara.

  She glanced at her watch. Five past ten. How could she possibly find anywhere else to stay this late? Unless the pub did rooms or Finn....

  Two packets of crisps dropped onto the table and, a lot more carefully, a red wine and a coke joined them. Easing his long legs into the chair opposite her, Finn gestured at the crisp packets. “Your choice.”

  “Thanks.” Zoe picked up the cheese and onion. “I’m veggie so the smoky bacon’s yours.” She crunched down a mouthful of crisps and realised she was starving.

  “I was veggie once.” Finn tore open the crisps. “I was trying to impress a girl. Freya. She was on my MSc course. Smart, sophisticated, older than me. Way out of my league. Still have no idea how I persuaded her to go out with me. But then I was stuck with being veggie. The house was a meat free zone. I used to have to go out for sneaky burgers.”

  Fairly certain this was ancient history, Zoe laughed. “What happened?”

  “We split up.” Finn pushed up the sleeves on his grey t-shirt. “But not over my meat eating habits.”

  Zoe hesitated and then decided she had to go for it. If he was spoken for she needed to know. “So what about at the moment? You...seeing anyone?” she said, staring at the inside of her crisp packet.

  “No.”

  “Oh!” Zoe’s eyes flicked to his. Embarrassingly, she felt a blush steal across her cheeks.

  “You?”

  “No. I’m...I’m...single,” Zoe said, unable to look away from his gaze. The eye contact held. The moment stretched to stillness. Zoe felt a barrier fall and she was falling with it, spiralling down into the grey haven of his eyes.

  The pub door opened. A draft swirled in. Finn’s head whipped round. Her pulse kicking up, Zoe mirrored him. A middle aged man with a bald head and a significant paunch was cheerfully greeted by the regulars at the bar.