Something Wicked This Way Comes

by Amy Rae Durreson

  I could hear the heavy throb of a generator coming from the back of the house and smell something warm and comforting. I swerved that way and found Fiona in the kitchen, making up a big vat of soup.

  “I wouldn’t usually,” she confided when I complimented her on the smell, “but those poor people have enough to be worrying about.”

  “Is there any news?”

  “Nothing yet.” She shook her head and lowered her voice. “The dogs followed him along the road to Vainguard and along the riverbank. There’s no telling which way he went, but the river’s high.”

  I thought of the shallow rocky burn I walked beside most days. “Is it that dangerous?”

  She nodded grimly. “If he’s gone that way, God forbid, he’ll not be the first, nor the last either. Even when it’s not in flood, it’s fast, and once someone’s banged their head on the rocks….”

  I shuddered.

  She wiped her eyes and continued, “And such a nice boy too. Those poor people.”

  “Is there really so little hope?”

  “They can’t search the banks in the dark.” She shook her head again. “Poor little soul.”

  I headed upstairs and shoved a few changes of clothes in my case before heading back down to let Fiona know I’d be out of everyone’s hair that evening. As I headed out, the support officer intercepted me and drew me off to one side, out of earshot of the family. “Heading out again?”

  “Not far. I’ll be at Vainguard lodge, just up the road.”

  “Okay. Can I check a few things with you before you go?”

  “Sure.”

  “Parents said you gave Mac a lift back from the old hall the other night.”

  I blinked, surprised. “I did, yeah. It was raining, and he’d walked over to Vainguard—feeling cooped up, I think. Took shelter in the barn when he realised I wasn’t there to give him a tour. I gave him a lift back and a gentle telling off—the place is a bit of a wreck, and I was worried about him being there unsupervised.”

  “Did he hesitate at all about accepting the lift?” When I frowned, he held up his hand. “Trying to establish patterns of behaviour—figure out if he’s the kind of lad who will hop into a car without thinking twice.”

  “He jumped straight in, but he knows me, and it was chucking it down.”

  He nodded slowly, “Fair enough, but it all gives us an idea of the lad. What’s your gut feeling? What do you think has happened to him?”

  “Something bad,” I said without thinking.

  “Why’s that?”

  I had to stop and think about it. If I started babbling about ancient demons, he’d be rightly suspicious of me. Instead I said, “Because he was sensible enough to take shelter last time he got caught out in the rain. Why wouldn’t he do that again, then walk home once the storm passed?”

  He nodded and made a note of what I’d said. “Mum says he was fascinated with Vainguard and other old buildings. Can you think of anywhere else he might have wanted to explore?”

  “Not within walking distance, and I didn’t get the impression he was independent enough for public transport, not in a strange country. I don’t know him well, though.”

  “Like I said, we’re building up a picture. Thank you. If we’ve got any other questions, we’ll give you a ring.”

  “Happy to help,” I said and headed back out into the rain. It was still light, though the skies were heavy. For a moment, I contemplated heading down the bank to check the river path myself but decided against it. The last thing anyone needed was some amateur idiot slipping into the river and diverting resources.

  I was halfway along the lane, almost to the huddle of cottages in Blacklynefoot, when lights suddenly came on in every house—the power was back. Heartened, I lengthened my stride.

  When I got back to the lodge, Niall was in the kitchen, kettle boiling as he poked through the freezer. He said without looking round, “Pizza okay? I’m chucking any meat which was in here last night, but I reckon the pizza’s safe if we eat it now.”

  “I’ll risk it if you do,” I said and rummaged through the cupboard for mugs and teabags.

  “Any news?”

  “No. Fiona says they’ll stop the search when it gets dark.”

  “They’ll have to. There were a couple of hikers lost in the Kershope Forest last winter, and they had to call the ground search off until dawn once the snow started coming down.”

  I shivered. “Did they find them?”

  “Aye. They’d found shelter in the bothy up the top. Got a fire going to warm up and managed to ring home just after midnight. Mountain Rescue went and got them in the morning.”

  I wasn’t sure what a bothy was, but the story was comforting. “I hope this ends as happily.”

  “We know better, don’t we?”

  I sighed. “I guess we do.”

  That put a damper on both of our moods, as did watching out of the window as police cars crept past and searchers began to return to their base. I hated watching them and feeling that I ought to be helping somehow, but I knew there was nothing I could do myself which someone with more training couldn’t do better.

  I thought of Jeannie saying, “You have to stop him,” and wondered what she thought I could do. I was only a teacher. I didn’t know how to bind a demon or lay a ghost. A thought struck me, and I chuckled to myself.

  “What’s so funny?” Niall asked.

  “Oh, I was thinking of Peter—Felix’s son. He’s a vicar, and I was just imagining his face if I phoned him up and asked for an exorcism.”

  “Would he do it?” Niall asked.

  I tried to imagine Peter wielding bell, book, and candle and failed. “Do they even do that in the Church of England? I thought it was a Catholic thing.”

  “Don’t ask me.”

  We spent the evening curled up on the sofa, not talking much but watching a random stream of quiz shows and panel games. We both laughed dutifully a few times, but I know I wasn’t paying much attention, and I doubt Niall was either, especially as night fell.

  There were no riders on the storm that night, though I found myself wondering if they were back on their old route, past the windows of the guesthouse where there was no one left who could hear them.

  The next day brought spells of dry weather but nothing more. The police came back to Vainguard, and I accompanied them as they searched every room and corner. They found nothing but then questioned me again, going over everything I knew about Mac from our few interactions. I got the impression they didn’t believe me, and I understood why—I couldn’t tell them what I thought had really happened. The more they asked, the more my hackles rose, and the more I had to force myself to be helpful. I could see that they thought there was something off about me, and once they were gone, I phoned Rob Ademola to ask advice. He was reassuring but warned me against giving any more formal statements without a lawyer present.

  My poor car disappeared off towards Carlisle on the back of a tow truck. Head office phoned again, as did Felix and Kasia, both worried enough that I put extra effort into minimising the situation and my own reactions. I talked to Kasia at length but found it harder to confide in Felix. Knowing how thoroughly Martyn Armstrong had duped him into sharing information about me left me wary of him. He had promised me that he would keep me safe, and even though I was a grown man now, not the traumatised child who had first come to Eilbeck House, I felt betrayed. I knew he lived and breathed for his school, but perhaps if he hadn’t been so willing to let his guard down for the sake of his book, I wouldn’t be here now.

  “He’s human,” Kasia pointed out. “I know you don’t like to think so, but you’ve always been the only one who bought into his self-image. He thinks he’s the great saviour of vulnerable kids, and you validate that all the time.”

  “He saved us,” I pointed out.

  “And doesn’t he like the credit he gets for it.” She sighed into my ear. “I love the old bastard, but I don’t think he’s perfect. Maybe you need to take
a step back and reassess things.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, because the current situation is a really healthy emotional one in which to re-evaluate my relationships.”

  “Want me up there? I’ve got a perfectly nice, perfectly imperfect husband who can look after the boys by himself for a few days.”

  “Appreciate it, but I’m okay.”

  “Yeah, you’ve got your big hunky blacksmith to comfort you, haven’t you? You should send me more pictures. Naked pictures.”

  “Pervert. I’m not sharing.”

  “Not even a hint of how he swings his hammer?”

  I hung up on her at that point, but we were both laughing as I did so.

  Niall worked all day, squeezing the missed appointments from yesterday in between today’s jobs. When he came back and found there was still no news, it turned him quiet and brooding. Neither of us slept well that night, but we didn’t talk about why. We didn’t have to.

  The third day was worse. I’d gone back to the guesthouse briefly and caught a glimpse of Michelle crying quietly against Lyall’s shoulder. When I got to my room, I found Doug sitting on the stairs, hunched over a game. He looked up when I came near and said, “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I said, sitting down next to him. “How you doing?”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. The police are doing everything they can.”

  “They keep saying that too. They never say they’re actually going to find him, though.”

  “I don’t think they’re allowed to.”

  He glared at me. “What good are they, then?”

  I didn’t have an answer for that. Doug waited for me for a few seconds, then huffed out an angry sigh and dropped his head down. He muttered something against his knee, barely audible, “Told… didn’t believe….”

  “Told what?” I asked.

  He snapped his head up and half shouted, “I told them where Mac went, and they didn’t believe me!”

  “Where?” I demanded.

  He eyed me suspiciously. “Mac said…. You can hear the horses, can’t you? And you’ve seen the old man?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t hear them, but I can see him. Mom and Dad can’t.”

  “Did he take Mac?” Had the redcap come in here?

  Doug shook his head and admitted, “Mac followed him. He was standing outside the window and staring up at us, but then he left, and Mac said we should follow him and see where he lived. Then someone might believe us when we told them about him, so he went out and followed him, and he wanted me to go too, but I said I wouldn’t because it was raining, but really it was because I was scared, and now Mac’s gone and it’s all my fault!”

  He stopped for breath, his chest heaving. I said, “It’s not your fault. If you’d gone too, you would probably both be missing.”

  “Yeah, then maybe we could have helped each other.”

  I shook my head. “I promise you that it doesn’t work like that in the real world.”

  He hunched his shoulders up again. “Yeah, right.”

  “I know a lot of kids who have been in bad situations. Having someone they love there too makes it easier for bad people to scare them.” I wasn’t going to go into any more detail, but I didn’t want him running off too.

  “Oh.” He thought that over for a while before asking, “He’s not human, is he?”

  “The old man?”

  “Yeah. I thought about it and thought about it, and it’s the only thing that makes sense. That’s why adults can’t see him—except you—and why he shows up everywhere even though he looks like a total hobo who can’t drive.”

  He’d easily worked out something that had taken me days to accept—that I still couldn’t quite get my head round. “I’m pretty sure he’s not, but that’s where we have problems. No one will take us seriously if we start talking about supernatural stuff.”

  “Grown-ups are dumb.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “More than sometimes. So what is he, then?”

  He got the question out with a show of bravado, but I saw his lip wobble. I wasn’t sure if I should answer the question—he was scared enough.

  “You know, don’t you? Tell me. I can take it.”

  “Doug.”

  “It’s better than not knowing.”

  I thought back to when I’d been his age. Would I have coped better if I’d known there was a reason why my parents died, even if it was a cruel and vicious one? Maybe. Maybe it would have damaged me in different ways.

  “You’re gonna lie to me, aren’t you? People always lie to kids.” He sounded so disgusted and world-weary it put me to shame.

  I said, choosing my words carefully, “You remember that stone circle we found—Rathstone Ring.”

  “Where the sorcerer’s evil familiar was trapped? Oh. Is that what he is?”

  “Yes.”

  Doug squared his shoulders, swallowing hard. “So, what are we gonna do about it, then?”

  “I’m not sure there’s anything we can do.”

  “Of course there is. There’s gotta be some way to fight it. Mac would know. Mac always knows this stuff.”

  It was an interesting point. Maybe there was something useful in the folklore somewhere. “I’ll do some research. I need you to keep yourself safe, though. We know this thing won’t get into a direct confrontation with an adult, but it will take any chance it can get to go after kids. I know you want to find your brother, but you cannot go off on your own.”

  “But—”

  “I’m going to do anything I can to help Mac, but I can’t if I’m having to constantly check on you too.”

  “But what if—”

  “Come and find me before you do anything.” Then on second thought, I added, “But do not come anywhere near Vainguard or use the river path. If I’m not here, go to the lodge at Vainguard and ask Mr Forster to call me. Or—do you have a phone?”

  Doug scowled. “Supposedly I’m not old enough.”

  “Okay, but your mum has my number. Do not go off on your own.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Promise me.”

  “Okay. I promise.”

  That would have to satisfy me. I returned to Niall’s, hoping I’d done the right thing.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  BY THE end of the third day, Niall was brooding so much I was worried for him. I understood, of course—there were too many echoes of Katie’s death here, not least the bitter knowledge that the same perpetrator was getting away with it. I tried to get him to talk to me and got snarled at. He took to retreating to the forge, and I began to associate the sound of hammer against anvil with his frustration.

  He was drinking again. I had to half carry him to bed on the third night, and he wasn’t the happy, affectionate drunk of the night of his birthday dinner. He was sullen and uncommunicative, and I was half-furious, even as my heart ached for him.

  Then the weather changed again. The rain, which had dwindled to patchy showers, came back full force, and by mid-afternoon, thunder was rumbling through the skies.

  I was in Vainguard when the first lightning flashed across the sky, still sorting through the last piles of old crap. The place had felt relatively benign for the last few days, albeit with a slightly hollow feeling, as if it were simply waiting for evil to return. Now, as lines of light speared down behind the hills, the atmosphere shifted, as if it had drawn a breath in readiness for a fight.

  I headed out at a swift jog, counting the seconds between flashes and thunderclaps. It was still far enough away that I didn’t worry about being out in the open, but I was glad to reach the safety of the lodge.

  As I got there, I heard the first distant echo of hoof beats.

  When I got inside, my heart sank. The lights were off, three empty beer cans stood on the coffee table, and Niall was at the window, another beer in his hand as he glared up at the storm.

  “Hey,” I said carefully.

  “You done already?” He didn’t turn aro
und.

  I shrugged, keeping my voice as casual as I could. “Place started going spooky on me.”

  He grunted.

  I was pretty sure even a week ago that would have elicited concern or reassurance. Not today.

  I left him to brood and went upstairs. My tablet was charging up there, and my toothbrush was in the bathroom. I gathered them up and made my way downstairs again, keeping my footfalls light. I’ve always been pretty good at knowing when I’m not wanted—picked it up somewhere around the third or fourth foster home. Because here’s the thing you learn once your family is gone—everyone withdraws in the end, even those who start out with open arms.

  Sometimes especially those people.

  I’d made it to the door and was slipping my shoes back on before Niall demanded, “Where are you going?”

  “You looked like you needed some time to yourself. I’m going to head back to the guesthouse.”

  I felt rather than heard him—the movement through the room and his hands on my shoulders, turning me around. “The hell, Leon?”

  He looked more bewildered than angry, so I willed the sudden stiffness out of my shoulders. “Just giving you space.”

  His eyes narrowed, but he took his hands away, slowly and carefully, and said, most of the irritation in his voice smoothed over, “You’re always welcome here. I thought that was obvious.”

  I shrugged, feeling horribly awkward.

  He stared at me. His gaze was less intense than usual, fogged a little by the beer, but I saw him piece together some sort of idea. He said, “You can tell me when I’m being a dick.”

  “That wasn’t—”

  “Leon. I’ve already driven off one lover by being a moody arsehole. I don’t want to do it again.”

  “You have every right to be—”