Beltane

by Alys West

  “I think it might be soon,” Zoe said quickly. Finn’s revelation about Maeve was making her head spin. At least talking about the moon gave her something practical to focus on. “Most of my other dreams, at least the ones that I’ve had since I’ve been in Glastonbury, have happened the day after I had the dream. So when I saw the moon” - she pointed at the picture - “I thought it might give us an idea of timing.”

  Finn slapped his hand against his forehead. “Doh! Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “I was trying to look it up when you arrived. I’d got as far as finding out it’s a waxing gibbous moon but as to when it’ll next happen…” She shrugged.

  “From the look of this -” Finn swivelled the paper towards him to get a better look “- I’d say it’s two or three nights before the next full moon. Can you find the date for that?”

  Zoe picked up her mobile as the waitress appeared with a tray. Zoe’s latte spilled into the saucer as the girl plonked it down in front of her.

  Stirring two sugars into his coffee, Finn said, “The moon last night was only a couple of days shy of this. Which would make the full moon sometime in the middle of next week?”

  Tapping her finger impatiently, Zoe waited for the webpage to load. When it finally did she scrolled down and said, “You’re absolutely right. The full moon will be on the third of May.”

  “Making this...” Finn exhaled sharply. “I should have bloody known!”

  “Known what?”

  “Beltane.”

  “But you told me most of what happens at Beltane is harmless.”

  He pointed at the hooded figure. “That was before I knew you were staying with Maeve.”

  Zoe stared at him, her brain struggling to catch up. Then cold fingers of terror fastened around her stomach as his words made sense. She swallowed hard, trying to force down the sudden nausea and said, her voice a little shrill, “You don’t mean it? We don’t even know for sure that it’s Maeve. And this could be any night.” As she said it she realised it was ridiculous. She was trying to push away the fear, to avoid asking the really big question.

  A ghost of a smile flitted over Finn’s face. “Nice try but I’m sure. It’s Maeve at Beltane.” He stared out of the window behind her head. “Friday.”

  Sucking in a deep breath, she forced herself to ask the question that was making her stomach churn. “But why? Why does she want to kill you?”

  Finn rubbed his hand over his face. “It’s a long story.”

  In his eyes she saw, for a moment, the weight of all he was dealing with. “You don’t have to tell me,” she said hastily, surprising herself. Maybe Finn had been right last night and there were things it was better she didn’t know.

  “Thanks.” He met her gaze, half smiled. “But you’re in so deep you’re going to have to know.” The resignation in his voice surprised her. She watched him, waiting for him to say more. His eyes shifted to her phone, lying on the table between them. “Can I borrow your mobile? I need to ring Winston.”

  “Sure.” Their hands touched as he took it and the same incredible tingle ran across her skin.

  “Hi. It’s Finn,” he said. Zoe caught the echo of a deep voice. “Look, things are moving faster than I’d thought.” She sipped her coffee and tried not to look like she was listening. She’d felt certain he was about to explain. Then, with another of his lightning changes of mood, the moment had gone.

  “I’ve met someone who was staying at Anam Cara and she’s...” There was laughter down the line and Finn broke off. He flashed a grin. “Yeah, she’s right here. She’s given me some really useful information. Maeve’s using The Seventh Book.....Yeah, I know....Can you get your hands on a copy?” His eyebrows rose at something Winston said. He turned and walked out into the garden behind the cafe.

  Through the open door, Zoe watched him pacing as he talked. What couldn’t he say in front of her? He had so many secrets it was impossible to know which questions to ask first.

  Returning, Finn handed the phone back. “Thanks. He’s coming down later today.”

  “Oh, that’s great.” Zoe worked hard to put some enthusiasm in her voice. Of course, he would want his friend’s help. Only the selfish part of her wasn’t ready to share him yet. “What time’ll he arrive?” she said, trying to figure out if she could hope to see him when he got back from Lyme Regis.

  “It’ll be late. He’s in Glasgow. And even though he’ll break every single speed limit on the way it’ll still take about five hours.” Finn put his hand on the drawing. “Do you mind if I keep this? I want to show it to him. He might see something in it that we’ve missed.”

  Zoe tensed, her eyes flicking to his face. She wanted to say no. She didn’t like the idea of someone she’d never met knowing about her dreams. But if Winston could help keep Finn safe then she had no choice. “O-kay,” she said slowly. “If you think it’ll help.”

  “I’m sure it will.” Finn leant back in his seat. “You know, it could be a huge help to us that you’re a seer.”

  Zoe’s shoulders hunched. “I wish you’d stop calling me that.”

  “Why? It’s what you are.”

  “But I don’t want to be.”

  “Sometimes we don’t get to choose. We just are and we have to learn to live with it.” Finn smiled ruefully. “Or at least that’s what Padraig told me when I said exactly the same thing.”

  “But I don’t want to learn to live with it. I want it to stop!” Zoe knew she sounded petulant but she couldn’t help herself. “And why are you being so damned understanding about it anyway?”

  “I have an idea what you’re going through.”

  “How?” Zoe’s hands flew up. “How can you possibly?”

  “Like I said, I understand more than you’d think,” Finn said. She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off. “You said you have these dreams about your family. Have you had them all your life?”

  “No. Or at least.” Zoe looked away, sighed. She really wasn’t comfortable talking about this. She felt exposed enough already. She opened her mouth to fob him off then her glance fell on the drawing of the stone circle and her concerns seemed insignificant. Folding her hands around her coffee cup, she stared into it. “The dreams started just before my Dad left. He and Mum were rowing all the time. I started having dreams of him on his own in a strange house. It was an awful place, almost derelict, paint peeling off the walls, that kind of thing. There were always huge abstract canvases in the background. Dad was sometimes painting but mostly drinking -” she paused, bit her lip “- or crying. I had the dreams night after night and after I’d had one I couldn’t get back to sleep. I was exhausted. One night I was awake and I just started doodling on some paper. Next thing I knew it was morning. When I woke up I saw that I’d drawn the dream.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Fourteen.”

  “Tough.” Finn nodded. “I was twenty five when my parents finally called it a day. That was bad enough. When the dust settled and Mum was alright in her new place in Lyme I went travelling. Started in Chile and worked my way up to Alaska. Met Winston on that trip.”

  “I wish I’d had that kind of escape. Although I probably wouldn’t have gone to Alaska.” Zoe flipped her hair over her shoulder. “With hindsight I can see that my Dad had some kind of nervous breakdown. He was a secondary school teacher and he just couldn’t take it anymore. He moved to a cottage in the Scottish borders, miles from anywhere. It was nearly two years before he’d let me visit. When I got there I had a really strong sense of déjà vu. Of course, I told myself I was imagining it.” She stared at her hands as she remembered the confusion of her younger self. “I see now I’d dreamt about it, the house, his work, the whole thing.” She paused, took a breath. “He’s actually quite successful now. He had an exhibition in London in January. But he wouldn’t even come down for it.”

  “You don’t see much of him?”

  “I go to visit once a year or so. Just for a few days. I always feel
like he’s relieved when I leave.”

  “Parents - who’d have ‘em?” Finn’s grin was rueful, yet understanding.

  Comfortable silence spread between them. Finn broke it with another question. “How do your dreams work? Do you draw everything that happens or are the drawings the edited highlights?”

  “It’s kind of hard to explain.” Zoe fiddled with the teaspoon on the side of her coffee cup. “Mostly it’s just flashes of an image. But they’re so vivid, like a clip from a film, repeated over and over until it wakes me up. Then I draw what’s stayed in my mind. And when I’ve drawn it, it’s gone.”

  “Have you tried to remember any more? To go back to the original images from the dream?”

  “No, I’ve always just been pleased when they fade from my mind.” She pointed to the sketch. “Some of them, like this, are terrifying enough when they’re on paper.”

  “How long have you known you’re a see...I mean, dreaming the future?”

  “Since Sunday morning.”

  “Bloody hell! No wonder you’re not over the ‘it can’t be happening to me’ phase.”

  As he spoke the waitress slapped two plates down on the table. “Is there anything else I can get you?” she said, leaning towards Finn.

  “Not for me,” he said, giving her the briefest glance.

  “I’m fine,” Zoe said.

  The plate was warm, the fried eggs and mushrooms still sizzling from the pan. But she wasn’t hungry anymore. Reluctantly, she picked up her cutlery and scooped up a forkful of baked beans.

  “What happened to make you work it out?” Discussing matters of life and death clearly didn’t impact on Finn’s appetite, she realised, seeing him wolf down his breakfast.

  “You.” Zoe waved her fork at him. “On Saturday night I dreamt about you in the garden. Then in the middle of Sunday night, I got woken up by the tree exploding followed by the scream from Maeve’s room.”

  “What?” Finn said, his mouth full.

  “There was this really loud, high pitched scream. It sounded like she was in agony. In the morning she tried to convince us she’d seen a mouse but that was bullshit.”

  Finn grinned. “Don’t hold back there.”

  “I won’t. Not now you’ve told me what she’s been up to.” She gestured to her phone. “I’ve been trying to contact Tanya on Facebook. I don’t have her mobile number and I just want to know she’s alright.”

  “Don’t tell her where you are!”

  “I wasn’t going to. I’m not a complete idiot.” Zoe scowled at her plate, channelling her irritation into stabbing mushrooms. Chewing them, she kept her head down avoiding his gaze.

  “Sorry. That was out of order,” he said after a moment. Zoe raised her eyes to look at him. His smile was apologetic. “I’m honestly only trying to keep you safe.”

  “You know,” she said, “It’s hard to stay mad at you when you put it like that.”

  “And, what’s more -” Finn’s smile transformed into a grin, “- it’s the truth.”

  Zoe looked down to hide a smile of pure delight. “When I think how Tanya trusted Maeve and how she abused that it makes me so bloody angry I could punch her.”

  “Hold that thought. She’s done something else you won’t like.”

  “What?”

  “She searched your room last night.”

  Zoe’s cutlery clattered onto her plate. “What? Why?”

  Finn raised his eyebrows. “Do you really have to ask?”

  “Then she knows about the doll and that I went in her office?”

  Finn shook his head. “Suspects. I don’t think she knows for certain.”

  “But that’s bad enough. How am I going to get my things? I can’t go back there. Not knowing that!”

  “I’ve got a plan. But it means waiting until later today. When I get back from Lyme.”

  “But what about my things? If she thinks I’m not coming back she might get rid of them.” She snatched up her phone. “I should ring. Tell her I’ll be there later to collect them.”

  Finn grabbed her hand. “You can’t ring!” Zoe felt the tingle that always came when he touched her. She ignored it. She stared at his fingers, not saying anything, until he released her.

  Finn held his hands up. “Sorry. I’m being an arse.”

  “I need my portfolio. Everything I’ve drawn for King Arthur is in it.” Zoe’s hands wove back and forwards as she spoke. “Everything else I can live without if I really have to. But I have to get my work back.”

  “We will get it. But it has to be later. I don’t think she’s going to get rid of it. She seemed to find what’s in it far too interesting.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maeve went through your portfolio last night.”

  “Oh my God! Then she’s seen the pictures. The pictures from my dreams. They were in there.” Zoe swallowed hard and put one hand on her stomach. The nausea had returned. “She knows that I’ve met you and that you’re still in Glastonbury.”

  “Okay. Hold up,” Finn said. “You need to tell me about these other drawings.”

  “They’re all of you. In different places. In the garden after the tree exploded, I drew that on Saturday night. And later that night I drew you walking down the road into Glastonbury. Then on Sunday I dreamt about you on the Tor at night. And...”

  “You drew me on the Tor?”

  “Yes.”

  His fist slammed onto the table. The plates and coffee cups rattled. “Fucking bitch!”

  Heads turned towards them. Zoe leaned over the table, said urgently, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  There was a moment of silence. His face was coldly furious. He sucked in a deep breath. When he spoke his voice had a hard edge of bitterness. “That explains how she knew where to find me last night.”

  Zoe gasped. “Oh no!”

  “Yes.” Finn hissed out the word. “After she’d looked at your pictures she headed up the Tor. I saw her coming and I... left.”

  “God, Finn!” Zoe’s hands swept out. “I should have told you last night. I knew you were going up the Tor and I never thought about the drawing. If I’d not left it there...”

  “Who persuaded you not to go back?” Finn eyes were intent on hers. “That was me. And I’m sure it was the right call.”

  “But if I’d just taken the dream drawings with me...” Zoe reached towards him, her hands hovering an inch away from his forearm. “I knew I shouldn’t leave them lying around. I just never thought she’d search my room.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re new to this. We all make mistakes at the beginning.”

  “What do you mean? New to what?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Now eat.” Finn gestured at her half full plate.

  Zoe put her cutlery down. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “You can’t let her get to you,” Finn said. Zoe gave him a look that said get real. “And if you don’t eat,” he added. “I’ll feel bad about telling you what happened last night.”

  Zoe sighed, picked up her fork and pointedly stabbed a mushroom. “Happy now?”

  His answering grin was fleeting. Silence settled while Zoe ate. Finn stared out of the cafe window. Then suddenly he said, “Do you think Maeve could tell from your drawings that you’re a seer?”

  Zoe blinked. “I don’t think so. Maybe if she’d seen that one.” She pointed at the drawing on the table. “But the others I could have drawn after I’d seen you in those places. I suppose with so many pictures of you she might think I know you better than I did. Or at least, better than I did before we met last night.”

  “You mean she’ll think from the pictures that we’re working together.”

  She shrugged. “I suppose so.” Her thoughts had been running more along the line of Maeve believing that she and Finn were an item.

  Finn tapped the drawing with his finger. “Do you think it’s significant that all the dreams you’ve had in Glastonbury have included me?”

>   Zoe focused her entire attention on cutting up her fried bread. “I don’t know.” She actually had a very good idea but she sure as hell wasn’t going to explain.

  “And why’s this one the only picture with someone else in it?”

  Zoe gestured as if to say who knows. Finn sat silently while she ate the last few bites. Laying her knife and fork on her empty plate, she glanced at her watch. “Just so you know it’s nearly twenty past.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Finn looked around for the waitress and asked for the bill. Then he shoved his plate aside and leaned forward. “I want you to do something for me.”

  Zoe’s heart sank at his tone. “That sounds serious.”

  “I want you to go back to London. Just for the next few days until Beltane is over.”

  “No way!” Zoe said, instantly forgetting that only a couple of hours ago she’d been thinking of leaving. However much she liked him she wasn’t going to let him change her plans. “I’ve got a meeting with the publishers next Wednesday. That’s only a week today. And I’m still nowhere near ready. Camelot and Lancelot and Guinevere aren’t finished. And the whole final battle is a complete blank.” Her voice rose. “I’ve done what you asked and I left Anam Cara and now I’m in the lousy hostel for the rest of the week. But that’s as far as I’m going.”

  Finn rubbed his hand over his eyes. “I thought you were going to say that.”

  “Then why did you ask?”

  “Because it’d be safer for you not to be in Glastonbury for the next few days. We know Maeve suspects you of taking the doll and -” Finn hesitated “- let’s face it, the reason you took it is so damned unlikely…”

  “Thanks,” Zoe said dryly.

  Finn ignored the interruption. “…that she’s bound to think you had a better reason, one that’s more of a threat to her.”

  “That’s total guesswork.”

  Finn raised an eyebrow. “Not completely.”

  “Then you’re going to have to explain this because you’ve still not told me why the doll’s so important to Maeve or why you think it’s not safe for me to be here.”