by Alys West
Zoe looked down into her empty glass. “What you’re really saying -” she said, trying hard to keep the hurt from her voice “- is that you don’t want me in Glastonbury?”
“Yes, for your own safety.” Finn leaned across the table. “We know from your drawing that things are going to get ugly and I don’t want you caught up in that.”
Her eyes flicked to his. He kept going on about her safety. So far the only reason he’d given for her not being safe was because Maeve was some kind of witch. But that would mean he believed that Maeve could hurt her with magic and spells.
“But witchcraft doesn’t actually work,” Zoe said. “I mean, I know that there’s plenty of people in Glastonbury who believe in it and if you say the doll’s important then I can see why me taking it would piss Maeve off. But not enough to want to hurt me.”
“How do you know witchcraft doesn’t work?”
“Because it doesn’t. Everyone knows that.”
“Do they?”
“Yes!” Zoe’s hands flew up in her frustration. “I know people believed in witches and magic in the past but that was because they had no other way to explain the things that didn’t make sense. But that was hundreds of years ago. We have science to explain those things now.”
Finn shook his head. “So much for an open mind.”
His words touched a nerve. She was open-minded but she wasn’t a bloody fool. “I didn’t know you were going to try to convince me to believe in witchcraft and magic. What’s next?” Her voice rose. “You going to tell me that dragons exist?”
Finn looked away, his hand moving again to his staff. He drew in a long, deep breath. When he turned back, his face was tight with tension. “You see the future. That’s a form of magic.”
“It doesn’t feel like magic,” Zoe muttered. “Not to me.”
Finn leaned closer. “But you believe in it or you wouldn’t have told me about it.”
“Only because I have no choice! Because I saw it with my own eyes and I couldn’t deny it.”
Abruptly Finn shoved his chair back. “Right.” He walked across the courtyard to where a rose tree climbed a trellis against a white painted wall. Returning he said, “Hold out your hand.”
“Why?”
Finn raised an eyebrow. “Just for once can you do what I ask without arguing?”
Zoe reluctantly extended her hand. On to her palm fell a small red brown twig with a leaf unfurling from it.
Back in his seat, Finn said, “What’s your favourite colour?”
Unsure where he was going with this, Zoe frowned. “Purple. Why?”
“You’ll see.” Finn’s hand enfolded hers. The familiar tingle came with his touch and then suddenly it intensified, became a pulsing warmth that soaked through her skin to the bone beneath. Startled, she looked at him. His eyes were closed, his other hand wrapped around his staff.
“What’s happening?” she said, trying to pull her hand away.
Finn’s grip tightened. “Shush. Hold still.”
The sensation faded to the usual tingle she felt when Finn touched her. With a flourish, he lifted his hand from hers. On her palm lay a rose bud, its petals a rich aubergine. For a long moment, Zoe stared at it, her eyes wide with confusion.
“How did you do that?” she said, her voice cracking.
Finn grinned. “Magic.”
“It was a trick? You had this up your sleeve or something?”
“It’s not sleight of hand. This is the real thing. I channelled the energy from the earth through my staff to make the twig blossom. Then I gave it a bit of help with the colour. Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful. But I don’t... I don’t understand.” Zoe’s breath caught in her throat. She waved a hand in front of her face and swallowed hard. “I felt like a tingle on my skin that got warm, really warm, and then there was this.” She picked up the rose bud between her thumb and index finger holding it at arm’s length as if it were toxic.
“The tingle you felt was from the energy I channelled.”
Zoe blinked at him. It felt like he was speaking an entirely different language. “What energy?”
“The earth’s energy.”
“You can channel the energy of the earth?”
“Yes.”
“And that’s what the staff’s for?”
“It strengthens the connection. Without it, the energy I can access is limited. Although it’s enough for small things, like stopping your drawings from falling in the river.”
Zoe stared at him, eyes wide. “But I saw you catch them...”
Finn grinned. “Only because I’d stopped them first.”
Completely lost now, Zoe shook her head. “I don’t get it.”
Finn rubbed his hand over his face. “What don’t you get?”
“How any of this is possible!”
Finn was quiet for a moment, his eyes thoughtful before he said, “You’ve heard of the ancient druids?”
Still confused, Zoe nodded. His words conjured up images from the books she’d read about King Arthur. Pictures of men with long beards cutting mistletoe with a sickle. What had that got to do with Finn’s impossible claims of magical powers?
“The power that I have is inherited from the ancient druids. There’s not that many people still have it and it usually runs in families, mostly down the male line. Padraig had it. I inherited it from him. And Winston. He’s got it.”
“So you’re telling me you’re a druid?” Zoe spat out the last word.
“Yes.” Finn smiled widely. “But I don’t want you to confuse me with the people you see in white robes at Stonehenge at the solstice. They’re revivalists and the term ‘druid’ is now associated with their form of nature worship.”
“Oh my God!” Zoe dropped her head into her hands. She sucked in a deep breath. Then she looked up and said firmly, “Okay, joke’s over now Finn. Tell me how you really put the rose in my hand.”
Finn shook his head. “I’m not joking.”
She stared at him. She recognised the signs; the tightness around his eyes, the jut of his jaw. So either he was far more of a practical joker than she’d realised or he was telling his own, totally screwed up, entirely warped version of the truth.
Desperately trying to think she let her hair fall forward around her face and closed her eyes. This couldn’t be happening! After she’d almost begged him to tell her what was going on at Anam Cara this was what she got? A tale of witches and druids?
When she looked up, Finn’s eyes met hers. She saw sadness in them as if he feared what she’d say next.
“You really believe this, don’t you?” she said softly.
Finn leaned towards her. “I’m not insane if that’s what you’re thinking. And I’m not making any of this up. Maeve is a spellworker. She wants the magic in me, the connection I have to the earth. That’s why she wants to kill me.”
Zoe raised both her hands, palms towards him, trying to push his words away. “This is too much.” Standing, she slung her bag on her shoulder.
Finn grabbed her hand. “Zoe, look at me.” When she didn’t he pushed on, his words rapid. “I know this is hard to accept. I know what I’m asking of you. But just think, will you? You’ve seen what Maeve can do. You’ve seen what she’s done to Tanya. And remember how much the doll freaked you out? That’s because you felt the power in it. You even picked up on what Maeve uses her altar for.” His hand smacked down on the table, making the glasses quake. “Damn it, Zoe! I swear I’m telling you the truth.”
Beneath the frustration, she heard a thread of desperation that made her drop her gaze to meet his. Slowly, emphasising each word, Finn said, “This is happening. In Glastonbury. And you’re part of it.”
She looked into his grey eyes. She knew he was serious, that he believed it. But just because he believed it didn’t mean it was real. “Let go of me, Finn. I...I need...” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I need.... except I have to be to be away from -” her hand swept in an arc t
hat took in the rosebud, the wooden staff and Finn “- all of this weird crap!”
Finn dropped her hand, slumped back in his chair. She caught the hurt in his eyes before the familiar, bleak mask slid over his features. She turned and walked away.
Chapter 23
Maeve had always hated needlework. Forced to do it as a child she’d spent endless hours turning out samplers, tablecloths and handkerchiefs. These days she only sewed to make poppets and hardly any of the skills she’d been forced to learn were used in roughly tacking the seams together.
Leaving a hole in the side of the little doll, Maeve turned it so the seams were inside and took down four canisters from the shelves above her table. She stuffed the poppet with sage and elfwort to increase psychic awareness, holy thistle to help find what is lost and tarragon to rejuvenate her purpose.
Then she opened her grimoire and took out the envelope. Carefully she removed the hair bobble and laid it on the table. Using tweezers Maeve eased the hairs away from the elastic, careful not to break them. She held the bobble up to the light to check she’d got them all and then, still using the tweezers, inserted the hairs into the centre of the poppet’s body. A few stitches sewed up the hole in the doll’s side. Maeve snipped off the lavender thread and picked up a black pen. Deliberately she drew large eyes, a pert nose and long flowing hair. The girl had a ready smile but she couldn’t bring herself to reproduce that. Instead she drew a thin grimace of a mouth.
No one but her would recognise it as a likeness of Zoe. But then no one else needed to.
* * *
Zoe shoved the hotel’s front door open and stepped out into the market square. Glancing over her shoulder, she was relieved to see that Finn hadn’t followed her. Turning left, she quickly walked away. She checked her watch. It was just before seven. She needed a bus back to Glastonbury. She would go to Anam Cara to get her things and then she was going home. Hopefully tonight. She’d have to check what time the last National Express coach left Bristol. But if not tonight then definitely first thing in the morning.
Her feet sped up, she shoved her hair away from her face. She’d had enough. She wanted her old life back. She wanted a world in which no one believed in spells or magic or druids or seers. They’d been having such a great time. For once they’d been relaxed and having fun together and then he’d ruined it, telling her all of that crap about spellworkers and sorcery as if it answered all of her questions, as if he were letting her in on a big secret.
What kind of naive, trusting imbecile did he think she was? She bit down on her bottom lip as tears flooded her eyes. Why did she keep picking the liars and the crazies? She’d believed everything he’d told her about Maeve kidnapping his sister and controlling minds and stealing energy. Was any of it true? Did his sister actually stay at Anam Cara? Did he really go to get her in October? Could she believe anything that he’d told her?
She didn’t know anymore. That was why she had to go home. Her world made sense at home. Maybe when she got back she’d be able to figure it all out, understand why she’d believed him and fallen for him. A tear slid down her cheek. She brushed it away, swallowed, sniffed. She wouldn’t cry. Not here in the street. She wouldn’t let him do that to her. She’d only known him since Monday. Only two days. When she got home, she’d see it for what it was. Just a holiday romance. Her stupid overactive imagination being captured by a handsome stranger.
But what about the dreams? Another tear fell. She chewed her lip to keep the others back. She’d thought the dreams meant there was something special between them, that he might be the one. Why else would she have dreamt about him before she met him? And what about last night, the dream of him in the stone circle? What did that mean?
She had absolutely no bloody idea.
Pushing her hair back, she stopped and looked around. Across the road from where she stood was a church with a tall tower. She glanced back, saw a green painted signpost and retraced her steps. One of the hands pointed the way to the bus station and she turned.
She soon found that ‘bus station’ was a rather grand title for a few shelters in a corner of a car park. Checking the timetable, she found she had a fifteen minute wait until the next bus to Glastonbury. There were a couple of teenage girls sitting in the bus shelter. They were gossiping animatedly about friends and boys and, after an initial disparaging glance, ignored her entirely.
Watching them, Zoe knew what she needed. She dug out her mobile and pulled up Anna’s number. Please let her answer, she prayed as she listened to the phone ringing. Then her friend’s voice burst down the line, “Zoe! How are you? How’s Glastonbury?”
Zoe swallowed hard trying to shift the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “I’m okay,” she managed to say.
“How’s King Arthur?”
“Good. I’ve made some real progress. I’m actually starting to think I’ll be ready for the meeting next week.”
“That’s fantastic! I knew Glastonbury would inspire you. And Maeve? Isn’t she great? I told you she was just what you needed.”
Zoe screwed her eyes up, took a deep breath. “Not exactly.”
There was a moment’s silence before Anna said, “Why? What’s wrong?”
“I met someone. Finn. I had a dream, one of the strange ones, about him on Saturday night. Of course, I didn’t know it was him then. I just drew this really good looking guy. And then, when I met him on Monday I didn’t recognise him straight away. I was drawing down by the river and he stopped my drawings blowing into the water.”
With the memory came Finn’s explanation. Her drawings caught on the wind, tumbling over, heading into the river. Then they stopped as if they’d hit an invisible wall. It’d seemed like a miracle. But Finn said he’d done it. With magic...
She forced the thought away and kept talking. “He told me all this stuff about Maeve. Crazy stuff and I believed him. I don’t know why now. It was just that she wasn’t anything like you’d said and I couldn’t understand why everyone else loved her like you do but I couldn’t get on with her. And she kept trying to force me to have healing and join in with the meditation and then I found this scary little doll on the Green Man’s tree...”
“The what tree?” Anna interrupted.
“The Green Man. In the garden at Anam Cara.” There was silence and Zoe added, “It was on the big oak tree near the wall. You couldn’t miss it. It looked like a real face with hair and everything.”
“I don’t remember,” Anna said. “You know you should have tried the meditation. I’m sure you’d have got something out of it. Maeve’s got a real gift for making the sessions special. She knows just the right thing to make you relax and feel safe. It’s almost like she’s reading your soul.”
God, it was just like talking to Helena! This was exactly the reason she hadn’t rung her friend back sooner. “Well, anyway I met Finn again on Tuesday evening. I had another dream about him at the Holy Thorn and I went there hoping to see him. I actually bumped into him on the road and we...” She broke off wondering how to explain. She could hardly say, ‘he picked me up and swung me into the shadows so that Maeve wouldn’t see us together.’ Instead, she continued, knowing it sounded lame, “We went to the pub and then I stayed at his last night.”
“Really! Wow! So how was he?” Anna asked, with a smile in her voice.
“We didn’t. He... he slept on the sofa.” Zoe took a deep breath. “But then I had another dream and this one really upset me. He held me while I cried and I thought...”
“Oh Zo! That sounds serious,” Anna said gently. “What happened?”
“This morning, because he’d actually seen it, I told him about my dreams and he was really cool about it. And then he went off to see his family and he met me in Wells about an hour ago and told me all of this crazy stuff about -” Zoe broke off, she couldn’t tell her friend that Finn thought Maeve was a sorceress “- how he’s a druid and he can do magic by using the power of the earth.”
“You know that’
s what I love about Glastonbury!” Anna said. “People just come out with things that no one would ever say in London.”
“No, it’s more than that. He really believes it. This evening he had this staff with him. It’s like a wooden stick that’s nearly as tall as I am and he says he can channel the power of the earth through it. And he put a leaf from a rose bush in my hand and something happened and when he took his hand away there was a rose bud.”
“Neat.”
“But it’s got to be some kind of trick, right? You can’t actually do that using the power of the earth!”
“Let’s not skip over the important point here. He gave you a rose.”
“So?”
“So he likes you!”
Zoe sighed. It didn’t seem to matter anymore. There was a pause and then Anna said, “So do you like him?”
Zoe closed her eyes. “I did.”
“Oh, Zo!” her friend said softly. “Whatever this Finn’s done, you’ve got to remember he’s not Gareth.” When she didn’t respond, Anna added, “All I’m saying is it wouldn’t be surprising if you found it hard to trust again.”
“It’s not that!” Zoe said, her voice a bit too loud. Sometimes she found it just a little irritating that Anna - having met the love of her life and soon-to-be husband in fresher’s week – thought she was so well qualified to give advice on relationships. “It’s not me,” she added, more quietly.
“Then what is it? So he’s into druidry, it’s not that big a deal.”
“But he really believes in it. In magic and sorcery and I don’t know what else...”
“Earth magic? That’s part of what druids believe. That’s why they go to Stonehenge at the solstice.”
“He said he wasn’t like them,” Zoe muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Zoe said a little louder. She knew her friend was trying to help but she was just making her feel more isolated. Without telling her about Maeve how could she explain how frightened she’d been and that Finn had made her feel safe?
“How did you leave it with him?”