by Karen Binnie
Chapter 8
High in the secret meadow hidden by the forest of pines which surrounded it, a pair of eyes peered out from under the huge slab of rock near the edge. These pale green eyes belonged to a snake like creature but not like any snake seen before, his body coiled tightly containing the heat which kept him alive. These eyes had born witness to the transformation from one world to the next, caught within the bright light emanating from the one called Al’ice, he had somehow travelled across time.
The eyes had watched the commotion as Al’ice returned with the others and the odd procession which descended into the valley, listening to the arguments as they left the clearing, he had been lucky, his coiled body wound tight like a spring ready for his defensive attack, he had been hidden from view in the dense carpet of heather.
The heather his only shelter from capture had almost betrayed him, the scented flowers pollinated his nostrils, which tickled with the air as he breathed, had anyone ever seen a snake sneeze before? This surely would have been a first.
To quell the feeling he dropped his breathing to a slow and shallow tone, his body began to shut down, inches from hibernation, his eyes the only movement on the scene before him.
The humans were beginning to leave when he stepped up his heart beat, he began to uncoil and propel his unseen body towards the ridge.
The great valley below held many obstacles, too much for this new born, best to sit it out in the clearing until someone returned and his journey back would be complete.
Kroil would be proud of him for following and locating their existence, he needed to return though, this the only second time Pete had managed the transfiguration into the creature that he loved. The first time left him exhilarated from the experience but when it had only lasted an hour, he had been hungry for more. Kroil suggested he try again whilst watching at the lakeside, there was no apprehension this time and he transformed quickly.
In secret they had plotted to over throw their mistress, both tied by a bond only she could break by their death or hers. Kroil already walked the line of death, if she turned on him he would be gone forever, not even a distant memory on the sands of time. He had been like the father Pete never had, he had mentored him in the ways of their world and together they had discovered the spell which would transform him into the creatures he loved.
‘A handy trick to have up your sleeve, young-un, once you can transform at will, Clarintor will be able to command your soul no more, you could leave but where would you go? Better to stand by my side, like father and son, once we have conquered and stolen her power as she did with my mentor, Magore.’
Pete had detected the bitterness in Kroil's voice towards their mistress, a bitterness he once held deeply when she had first taken him, tortured him into submission as her slave.
Two years were a long time fighting for survival in the underworld, Pete had to learn fast and soon forgot the world of his birth, now just distant shadows in his mind.
Clarintor unaware of their alliance and plan thought Kroil hated him, this the only thought which kept him alive, if you could call what he had become, alive. One time she had decided to dispose of him and he could see her grinning as she reached into his chest to purge his soul, take it for her own gratification, her fiery wisps of hair alight like the fiery depths of hell, he imagined having never quite made it that far.
Kroil had interrupted her, ‘ah, about time too, I always hated the brat!’ and that was that, as if to aggravate, she dropped him, barely alive he lay upon the hard granite floor, discarded like an oily rag from a mechanics hand.
Clarintor knew he would survive and become the half dead creature of her bidding, Kroil harboured his true feelings, appalled by her actions. Pete would have been better off dead, concern for the boy is what fostered their friendship and thanks to his new father, Pete felt more alive in his snake form.
His thoughts helped to pass the time until hunger set in, the trouble with being half dead is that you still need to feed your body, keep your heart beating, for Pete knew that once his heart stopped there was no turning back, he would be lost forever.
To his delight he had discovered a family of field mice picking their way through the heather, one strike and he had three in his grasp, the bones crunching as his throat drank in the feast, constricting to kill his prey. Pete had struck quickly, hunger forcing him to devour the furry morsels, only once the wriggling had stopped and their lifeless bodies slipped gently further into his body did he gag at the thought of what he had done. He felt more alive in this form but the routine of being a snake would take some getting used to.
He basked in the warm morning sun heating the rocks beneath his body, when the clouds had come without warning, taking the rays from his body and replacing it with cold icy droplets. Pete watched as the first flurries gently wafted on the wind, the ice stabbing at his scaly skin as it landed. He returned to the safety of the large slab and coiled his five feet of scales into a crevice, the rock protecting him from the weather, this was not good, the small snack would not be enough to sustain him through hibernation or even worse, Pete had no idea how much longer he could retain this shape. Closing his eyes to his fate he waited for death, for surely it would come whichever form his body would take.
There was a thud on the rock which shuddered through his tiny brain bringing him back to life, something heavy had jumped onto the rock above, Pete strained to hear the strange words spoken in the lyrical voice he had heard before, un-ravelling his head he looked upward at the great shaft which came crashing down towards him, he darted to the left as the stabbing pain struck at what would have been his shoulder in human form.
With a great flash of blue light that radiated out across the clearing, the air was still once more but for the flurries of snow now hugging the ground and the empty rock.
The snow was much heavier now and in a blessing had blocked up the hole in the wall above the bookshelves.
If Stanton had realised the true power of the patchouli oil, they could have stayed within the safety of the dining room, strange how the mist had penetrated and sent the others into a deep slumber but now it had gone.
A growling rumble echoed across the room, the sound of Kate’s stomach reflected back towards them.
“I’m sorry” she said a little embarrassed, this was not like her at all, why did Stanton make her blush so much? “I must be hungry.”
He lifted his glasses, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, he checked the time on his watch, his body was stiff from the night’s antics and the congealed blood on his makeshift bandage pulled at his wound as he stretched.
“It’s 12.15, I suppose I could do with something, we have about 30 minutes before Clarintor returns, if we stick together and can avoid Kroil, then what do you think Kate, do want to risk your life for a possible last supper?”
“Well if you put it like that! What choice do I have eh? Let’s do it.”
Stanton stood in front of her and opened the door slowly, it gave out the most awful groan, creaking as if it had not been opened just half an hour earlier, and they both looked at each other in horror, dumbstruck at the sound which echoed along the hallway.
“What do we do?” she whispered to him.
“Oh, what the hell, come on” he replied grabbing her hand and making a run for it, they had only gone a few steps when he realised she was shaking, he stopped, turned and asked, “You ok?”
Kate nodded and pointed to the door on the right, Stanton grabbed the handle and pushed open the door gently onto the scene they had witnessed earlier but from a different angle, the others were still slumped against the table apparently oblivious to their fate, whatever that turned out to be. Darting to the other side they stopped, their hearts beating a loud drum as they listened through the wooden door, all was quiet on the other side.
Kate and Stanton plundered the kitchen, well if you could call it a kitchen, moving in comparative silence. The polished steel surfaces, gleaming from und
eruse held very little in the way of food. There was a huge double-door stainless steel look fridge/freezer stacked with bottles of booze and a handful of ready-made meals for one in the freezer buried under the mounds of ice. Kate found a tin of instant hot chocolate in the cupboard and decided to take a full kettle back with them and some mugs. Stanton discovered a lonely packet of ginger biscuits in one cupboard and emptied the fruit bowl of its contents, 2 apples, 3 bananas and a pear. There was a large block of cheese stuck at the back of the fridge so he grabbed that too, placing the contents on the bench, he began opening all the drawers.
Kate whispered “what are you looking for?”
“Ah, this!” he replied and pulled out a large knife from the drawer, “looks new, never used.”
Kate shuddered at the thought, “do you really think we're going to need it?”
He shrugged at this point Stanton was willing to try anything, “It’s for cutting the cheese,” he said unconvincingly.
“A little big isn’t it?”
“Well it wouldn't hurt to take it, just in case of course, let’s hope we don’t get to christen it on anything other than cheese!” came his reply.
As Kate scoured the remaining cupboards she added, “Surely the Mitchells don’t just eat those ready-made meals all the time, do you suppose they ever cook?”
“Probably not, look we've got enough let’s get back and barricade ourselves in before we're detected.”
Kate touched him on his good arm, “Stanton, I'm scared.”
He gave a smile and nodded, “I know, just trust me, together we can do this.”
Back in the library they tucked into their feast as if it were their last. Kate had successfully made an attempt at the hot chocolate which they both savoured.
“Where abouts you say you were from Stanton?” asked Kate stuffing another biscuit into her mouth.
“Vermont, the Green Mountain state” he replied.
“Oh, where’s that?”
“Just above New York on the map and below Montreal, Canada.”
“So if Vermont is a state, what town are you from?”
“Montpelier, the smallest state capital in the US, College Hill is where my folks stay. Famous for the sugar maples, the foliage in the fall is spectacular, I would love you to see it.”
“Awesome, if we ever get out of this alive, maybe I’ll hold you to that. Stanton, why are you and I not asleep like the others?”
“I’ve been thinking about that, I tried to run from it, I knew it was coming of course, but I can’t understand how we managed to prevent it from entering the bathroom. There’s something about you Kate and I can’t figure it out but I’m sure you have the key to unlock the answer to that one.”
“But I didn’t know anything about this until you explained it all, I’m no different to anyone else here at this party.”
“You sure about that? Think Kate, what could be different about you, different from everyone else here tonight?”
Kate shrugged her shoulders and thought for a moment as she sipped the last of the chocolate.
“I’m Jol’s friend?”
“No, it’s got to be something more than that.”
Kate was now deep in thought, her mind racing, “Stanton, surely if I protected you earlier, whatever it is about me? then I can do it again, these demons can’t touch us, think about it, how did we get to the kitchen and back so easily, if they’re demons surely they would of detected us, I mean demons can do anything right?”
Stanton was nodding his head and flicking through one of the earlier books for anything he may have missed, “An angel’s power, that’s what Clarintor believes we are dealing with, she was attracted to Jol’s soul, protected by an angel? but how and why? If she is sending these signals then somehow it has rubbed off on you, but different, that’s what they said.”
Kate watched him adoringly as he questioned his own thoughts, he was such a mind of information, a brainiac. She smiled to herself, she was falling for this man, Gregor Jones paled in insignificance beside him. Stanton was practical, resourceful, kind and cheeky! Oh yes he was cheeky, asking for that kiss when she thought she was losing him, definitely cheeky and she liked it. Would he feel the same, would anything come of their strange friendship, perhaps he was like this with everyone? That thought hung there in her mind like a nuisance, nagging at her.
“Kate?”
She was momentarily lost in her thoughts.
“Kate, honey?”
That brought her round, she just melted when he called her that,“What?” she replied sheepishly.
“You were thinking deeply, what is it, have you thought of something?”
Kate swallowed, “Ugh no, I mean…….” she couldn’t tell him what she had been really thinking, she felt her cheeks redden again as she searched frantically for a response.
Touching the stone in her pocket, she found her reply, “Um, there’s this” and she pulled the stone from her pocket, “It belongs to Jol.”
“Kate that’s it, oh you clever girl, tell me what it is, oh I could kiss you.”
Please do, please do she wished as he leaned in towards her, but Stanton took the stone from her hand and held it up to the light, he had held firm not wanting to push her again like before.
“Righto…….well…….” she began.
Kroil paused at the door to the dining room, his stomach convulsed, how could this be? Being dead had its advantages, no longer troubled by the weak afflictions of the flesh, he was puzzled by the strange feeling that was washing over his body. He closed the door and the feeling subsided, what the hell was that? he attempted to open the door again, wider this time but the strange feeling hit him like a thunderbolt as he struggled against the force inside, pulling with all his strength to close the door.
He had never come across such a force. Oh no! He lied, there had been the priest’s daughter, and he had not known that at the time until the hold gripped his body, frozen in time, she had explained that her oddly shaped pendant actually held holy water, a gift from her father to ward off demons. That had been a close call that day, this was a different feeling though, just like the pulse he was tracking was different, he was beginning to despise this place, his mapped out plans were coming apart at the seams as the night wore on.
He had checked out the bodies in the party room and any others he had found on the way, he could detect heartbeats upstairs but not to the other side of the house, so upstairs he would go, the bodies in this room would have to wait for the return of Clarintor, she could deal with whatever lay within.
In the bushes beside the lake, Pete landed in a jellied mass of skin, his eyes locked in horror at the mess of his once body.
One by one his bones began to click into place, each crack shooting pain through his body as it began to take shape. The pain excruciating, he wanted to scream through the night as his eyes watched the figure of the man crouched just ahead of him, he stuffed his emerging fist into his mouth to stifle the noise.
He could not stall the transformation and stared ahead in horror as the man looked about him, sure to hear as his body creaked back into its human form. Relief washed over him as the man raced off into the night, Pete watched his naked legs as the knees snapped into position and he knelt feeling each part come back to life.
The last time it had not been like this, so swift and painless was his re-emergence as a boy, perhaps the time travel had messed with his DNA.
His spine snapped the floppy neck taut and he assessed the damage, lifting his fingers to his shoulder, hot sticky blood dripped from his wound, something was not right, his right shoulder flopped in its socket. Moving his fingers across the skin, he could feel the knarled pieces of his collar bone crunching as it stabbed at his muscles.
This was not good but then it could have been so much worse, he had no idea at the time exactly which part of his human form would be damaged when the staff came crashing down on him.
Pete crouched in the
bushes, his body filthy from the mud of the clearing, he had to find his clothes, left behind the summerhouse in the shadows and only hoped they were still there. He would then search for Kroil but could not let Clarintor know what had happened to him, she would be mad enough with losing the trail of her chosen one.
He sniffed at the air, his mistress’s odour still defiled his senses, he slipped effortlessly into the water hugging the reeds with his good hand allowing the tepid water to cleanse his body from that awful stench of the meadow and the earthen heather he had to endure. His shoulder would not allow him to swim so he waded slowly towards the summerhouse, feeling more refreshed as he moved, careful to keep from view and not betray his position.
He could see his clothes now, still stuffed in the tight bundle. He edged closer and pulled at the bushes to hoist him aloft, the leaves crushed under his fist and slipped gently through his skin as he lost his grip. Pete fell backwards with a great splash across the surface, the water engulfing his senses as he submerged. His right shoulder smarted with pain as he swam awkwardly to the side only coming up for air at the water’s edge. Gasping for oxygen he stood still and waited to be discovered. Several minutes passed and he realised how lucky he had been, he waded along the lakeside until he found a less steep bank to climb, somewhere with a good foothold.
Exhaustion took hold of his body, a sensation alien to him since his life had been sucked from him, the ragged remnants that remained kept him barely alive, his body favouring the eternal side. He had felt life slipping away further at that first experiment which transformed him, realising it was only a matter of time before his humanity was lost forever. He had no regrets, there had been no going back since that day Clarintor had purged his soul, Pete lay back on the grass, his wet body glistening in the light of the moon, he would rest here, just a while, hidden from view by the dense bushes, his modesty intact.
Jez had managed to open his right eye just a fraction, the left was too swollen, it still hurt to breathe, he felt as if he had been punched recently. He watched as the nurse entered the room and made her way towards his bed. As she approached he realised that she must be very old indeed, deep lines were etched across her face but she moved like she was much younger. Her grey hair had been forced up into a bun beneath her head gear with a few wisps of black to one side, had he seen her before somewhere?
She approached the bed with smiling eyes, “Hello Jerimiah, how are you? On this fine day, not too shocked at how old I really am are you young man?"
She could tell that he could see her, but how? Nobody else seemed to recognise any change in his condition but this was the one with the angel’s voice and he knew that there was something special about her.
She held his hand and squeezed it and to his amazement he squeezed it back, some movement at last!
She bent forward to whisper in his ear and he could smell that sweet aroma engulf his nostrils once more.
“Jerimiah, do not rush, you need to gather your strength, do not let any of the others see that you have awoken. I nearly lost you last night and I do not want that to happen again. I shall keep an eye on you, but you must promise me to be still for now.”