Something Wicked This Way Comes

by Amy Rae Durreson

  “Put on the cap,” it whispered, “and kill me.”

  I imagined it, the hot satisfaction of forcing something evil from this world, of taking all its strength and power and turning them upon all those who preyed on children, as it had done. I knew how to find them. I knew how to follow the whispers and rumours to hunt them all down. I could go to them one by one, strike them down, and wash my cap in their blood.

  I don’t know if anyone in the circle could see what I was thinking, but dimly, distantly, I heard Felix’s worried voice. “Leon? Do you need help?”

  I had been the boy with the knife, but even then, I hadn’t used it. And after that, when everyone looked at me and saw only the violence simmering under my skin, there had been Eilbeck House. I had also been the boy who ran away and the boy with the second chance.

  But I wasn’t a boy anymore. This thing before me had been created from violence and hatred. Violence had taken my parents from me.

  But that didn’t mean I was doomed to become another link in that chain.

  I had lifted the cap almost to eye level, but now I tightened my hands instead, wringing the blood out of it. It came in great droplets, splashing onto the moss below my feet as I twisted and wrung the hat, forcing every drop out of it as it smeared across my hands.

  It was a long time before I couldn’t force any more from the now shapeless thing in my hands. It was still red, though, stiff with everything it had absorbed.

  I looked up, past the redcap that was watching me with its breath coming fast, and straight at Niall. I said to him, “I need help.”

  He said, his voice the steadiest thing in the world, “Anything.”

  I held up my bloodied hands. “I need water to wash this clean.”

  He nodded slowly and took a step back, pulling Mac closer until he was hand in hand with Katie’s ghost. Niall reached back for the bucket by the forge. “Start with this. I’ll get you more.”

  I paced to the edge of the ring, transferring the bloodied cap to one hand, and reached out to take the bucket, aware of the redcap behind me, watching my back.

  Niall glowered over my shoulder, and I turned to face it again. It had taken a few steps closer, but it had not lashed out. It looked different, even by moonlight.

  I plunged the cap into the bucket, and the redcap shivered from head to toe. Niall nodded slowly and turned to leave the circle.

  The Elliot moved his horse, blocking Niall. He said something bitter.

  Niall crossed his arms and glared back, “Aye, and if your way had worked, we’d not be here today. So get the fuck out of my way.”

  For a moment neither of them moved. Then the Elliot twitched his arm and his horse stepped sideways, letting Niall past.

  The water was already dark, but I worked the stiff fabric of the cap between my fingers. Twice, I took it from the water and wrung it out, and the water that dripped from it was dark with old blood.

  The redcap was almost panting by the time Niall came back. He’d brought two big plastic flasks with him—out of the back of someone’s car, I guessed—and he waited for me to empty my bucket in the middle of the ring and come back before he filled them up with clean water. It smelt fresh and green.

  “From the stream,” Niall said. “You’ll need more?”

  “Much more.”

  Felix cleared his throat and said, “If I may make a suggestion?”

  It was the same voice he used with awkward governors, and it almost made me laugh to hear it now, when all was blood and moonlight, ringed by ghosts. I dipped the cap into the cold, cold water and nodded to him.

  “I wonder many of us have a water bottle on us? Keep the circle intact, of course, but many hands make light work?”

  “Of what?” Jeannie Duffy said, her voice frail and bitter. “Granting mercy to a monster?”

  It was Peter who answered her, in a way I could not have. He said, “Mercy triumphs over judgement.”

  She said, the words breaking out of her, “Some things don’t deserve mercy! All my life I have fought this thing. How can you forgive what it has done?”

  What I said next is the cruellest thing I have ever done. “Who brought it back into the world, Jeannie?”

  And Peter said, no longer a kindly priest at all, “Forgive, and you shall be forgiven.”

  In the silence that followed, I wrung the cap out again, then dipped it back into the water.

  Then, all around me, people quietly began to move, shuffling to close the circle as others stepped back. Niall led them away.

  I don’t know how long it took. I stopped counting the times I had to pour out the sullied water, pull up dry moss to wipe the bucket clean, and hold it up for those outside the circle to fill again. At last, though, the colour of the cap began to change, no longer black under the moon, but a softer hue. I had watched the redcap as I washed it clean, and it too had changed. It was no longer poised to leap but simply crouching in the ring, watching me hungrily. The hanks of its hair were no longer thick with grease and blood, but floating on the breeze, pale and light as thistledown. Its face was no longer a gnarled mass of loathing, but something smoother and—I thought—increasingly younger.

  Younger and less human.

  Its limbs were no longer clothed in ragged cloth but twisted like the stems of a gorse bush. Gnarls replaced its knuckles and hanging moss fell around it in tatters. Its eyes were water-polished pebbles now, and flowers blossomed in its hair—small buds of gorse and heather.

  Then I lifted the cap from the water, twisted it between my hands, and saw the water run clear. Of course, by then, it was no longer a cap, but a mass of matted moss, damp and cold against my palms.

  Cold, but no longer heavy.

  I stood up and offered it back to the redcap. It shook its wild head at me, and said, with the wind singing in its voice, “Set me free.”

  “Never to hurt or kill again.”

  “Give me to the wind and the wild whin and I will come nae more to the company of men.”

  It was easy, in the end. I simply said, “Go free, then,” and, since I felt some gesture was needed, I pulled the remains of the cap in two.

  And the wind came sighing over the ridge and caught the redcap—or, no, not anymore—caught Robin and dashed him apart, into a whirl of twigs and leaves and flowers which it carried out of the circle on one wild gust. All that remained was something pale and heavy that pattered to the ground.

  The Elliot let out a great shout of rage, and suddenly the still riders of the outer circle were all moving, following their leader as he plunged after the wind, thundering down the steep hillsides into the darkness of the valley, horns blaring, voices loud, hunting, in full hue and cry, for a vengeance which would never be satisfied.

  And with their passing, the ghosts too began to fade into mist again. I saw Katie smile at her parents and Ronnie Parfitt squeeze his sister’s hand one last time and little Frank Armstrong half turn, as if he had seen and recognised someone he had lost long, long ago. Then, on the next gust of the wind, they too were gone, blown away over the valleys like pale feathers, vanishing against the sweep of the stars and the light of the moon and the scent of the forest carried on the wind.

  And all was quiet.

  After a few moments, Felix cleared his throat and said, “Ah, so do we think it’s all done, then?”

  I was still kneeling in the middle of the circle with blood smeared up my arms, but I managed to clear my throat and say, “I think so.”

  Niall stepped over the iron chain and came to me, resting his hand on the back of my neck and saying, “You’re still covered in this muck. Better use the last of that water to clean up.”

  “Yeah. And let’s keep as many people as we can out of here until we’ve buried the chain.”

  Around us, conversations were breaking out, nervous at first, then filled with shaky laughter and exclamations. I stripped my filthy T-shirt off, rolled my eyes at Niall when he wolf-whistled, and cleaned myself off with more handfuls of
moss and the last of the water.

  The moment I was clean, Niall wrapped his arms around me, dipping me down into an extravagant kiss. I clung to him, laughing in sheer relief, and kissed him back.

  Someone—it sounded like Terri—yelled, “Get a room!”

  We ignored her, and by the time we came up for air, half the circle had gone. Peter was still waiting, shaking his head at us. Naomi was with him, her hand in his, and Kasia was beside them, stifling a sleepy yawn. “We’re running the first few carloads down. Jeannie shouldn’t be out here much longer, and some of the others are more than a little shaky.”

  “Is she okay?” I asked guiltily. We had been cruel to her.

  Peter sighed. “I’m not sure. She’s lived with this longer than anyone. It can be hard to let go. We forgave her enemy, and she wasn’t ready for that.”

  Kasia said quietly, “Forgiveness is hard.”

  I said, leaning on Niall, “I know.”

  Peter nodded. “Shall we get you out of here?”

  I glanced up at Niall. “There’s a couple of things I want to check first.”

  “And I need to let the forge cool before we move it. Give us an hour.” He added irritably, “And get all those randoms out of my house. I’m not putting them up.”

  I pointed out, “They just helped us fight a demon. We probably ought to—”

  “Yeah, no,” Niall said. “I suppose my mother can stay, if she has to, but I’ve got plans for tonight which don’t include house guests.”

  Kasia bit back a laugh and said, not even bothering to lower her voice, “I’m calling Suleikha the moment I get a signal.”

  I was feeling too light with relief to object. “Tell her I’m doing perfectly well without you lot interfering in my love life.”

  Naomi shook her head. “Oh, we’re not getting in the middle of that one.”

  It took a little longer before Niall and I had the place to ourselves. I was beginning to shiver in the night air, even with his bulk behind me, so I was delighted when Lucy loped back with the blanket from the back of her car. It smelt a bit doggy, but it was warm, and Niall still didn’t let go of me, which made it even more comforting.

  At last, the engine of the last car faded into the distance, and he said, “What are you up to, then?”

  “I want to make sure anything that needs burying is buried.”

  He nodded. “Let’s have a look, then.”

  I had put the remnants of the cap in the centre of the ring, beside the pale pieces which had fallen in Robin’s wake. They looked like stripped twigs, fine and fragile, but I was pretty sure they weren’t.

  “Bones?” Niall asked. “They’re small.”

  “About the right size for a newborn left outside to die,” I said.

  “Yeah. Have you still got that band on?”

  I slid it off my wrist. “Saved my life in there. Thank you.”

  He kissed me again, quick and light, then took it. “I’d like to do something with this. Can you bear with me while I get the forge going properly again?”

  The moon was still high and bright, though thin, pale clouds were now blowing across the sky. There was a trowel in Niall’s tool kit which we had brought for just this purpose, so I set to burying the chain, pressing it deep into the silty ground, then smoothing the earth over it. Anyone who came up here tomorrow would be able to see the mess we had made of the moss but hopefully nothing more.

  In the centre of the ring, I dug a small hollow—a tiny grave for small bones. I laid the remains of the cap in there, and transferred the bones over gently, worried they would crumble in my hands. After a while, Niall came back with Margaret’s band clutched in his tongs, already fading to a dull red. He turned it so I could see what he had done.

  He had added two more names to the ones already there, not stamped this time, but scraped out of the hot metal. Below Margaret’s name, it now said, and her bairn. And on the other side of the loop, it read simply, Robin.

  My breath caught, and I watched as the metal went dull. Niall used his free hand to pour water over it from a bottle and eventually lowered it gently into the little grave.

  It touched the mossy remains of the cap, and they sank down under it. We shovelled the damp earth back over it, replaced the layer of moss, then tamped it down. We both stood over it when we were done.

  “I feel like we should say something.” I wasn’t sure what. I didn’t have my brother’s faith in prayer.

  Niall shrugged and took my hand. He said, “Not forgotten, any of you, but no longer bound. Life goes on.”

  “That’s a little harsh.”

  “You ever say it over my grave, I promise not to take offence. Whole point, really, isn’t it? We take what life gives us, we grieve, we remember, but after that….”

  “Life goes on,” I finished. I thought of my parents, always remembered, and of the children of Eilbeck, past and present, all of them fighting to keep living despite their past griefs and mistakes. I thought of Michelle, too, talking about Tam Lin, about spirits caught between life and death, and how the natural path was that of change, of claiming the life you wanted and living it.

  Niall grumbled, “Don’t know why you’re being funny about it when you’re the one who dragged me back into living again.”

  “I’m not being funny about it. Besides, I like seeing you happy.”

  “It’s not happiness, as such,” he said, lifting my hand to kiss my fingers, so casually affectionate it made my heart leap. “It’s about being able to look up and imagine what comes next, rather than always thinking back to what cannot be changed. You make me want to know what comes next.”

  I said, hoping he would understand the change of subject, “Did I tell you we’ve found a possible site just the other side of Hawick? Much better than Vainguard.”

  “You and your bloody school,” he muttered, and squeezed my hand. “You’ll be staying, then?”

  “I’d like to. If not for Eilbeck, I hear there’s a national shortage of head teachers. I’m sure there’s a school round here that needs one.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Unless having me around is going to cramp your style, now you’ve got back into this living-your-life thing.”

  “Fuck off,” my grumpy, beautiful blacksmith said. “You know I’m in love with you.”

  “Well, I’d hoped,” I said, leaning my head on his shoulder. “Given I feel the same way.”

  And he kissed me again, under the light of the moon, as the wind came across the border to rush around us and the forge slowly cooled and went quiet.

  Epilogue

  I RETURNED to Vainguard for the last time the following January. Becky’s had sold the place to a Christian educational charity, the Crozier Trust, which planned to run retreats and residential courses. It all sounded vaguely dubious to me, but Peter, when consulted, had confirmed they were legitimate and, in his words “bonkers but loaded.” Since they were willing to take on a place with Vainguard’s reputation and pay almost market value for it (you try offloading a lonely ruin with a scandal attached at full price), the process had gone through very efficiently. Now, yet again, Rob Ademola and I were planning to meet there and hand over the keys to the new owners.

  I parked by the lodge, now quiet and empty. The Crozier Trust had not been keen on using the old bungalow to house their caretakers and, to my surprise, Niall had accepted a generous offer on the lodge. He had moved a week ago to a new location south of Hawick, no more than fifteen minutes’ drive from the site of my school.

  And no, that wasn’t a coincidence.

  Thinking about it made me smile again as I strode up the drive. It was a cold afternoon, and the frost still lay in the shadows. I had been sensible with myself and driven the extremely long way round along the A7 rather than risking my nerves on the icy B road. Unsurprisingly, Rob had beaten me there, and Dimwit came running down the drive to meet me, tail wagging joyously. I made a fuss over him and grinned up at Rob. “Bit of a change from the
first time.”

  He shook his head. “If I’d known what we were letting you in for….”

  “Martyn bloody Armstrong,” I said wryly and stood up to look properly at Vainguard. It no longer struck fear into me at all. It was a building, old, tatty, and unloved, but nothing more. There had been no more disturbances in Blacklynefoot. No more children had gone missing, and Lucy reported that she had not heard the riders pass since that fateful night in August. It would be a while yet before I rested completely easy in my bed, though.

  “How’s the new place?” Rob asked.

  “Still getting started, really. The old barn has come down, and they’re putting in the foundations for the new science block. A long way to go.” I couldn’t help smiling. I had such plans for my new school.

  “You’re loving it.” He shot me a sly grin. “How’s Niall? Still smitten?”

  “We’re good,” I said and smiled. How strange to be standing here again, not as cheerful strangers, but as friends who could tease one another about relationships. “Josh and Bella enjoying the holidays?”

  Rob rolled his eyes. “Start of term can’t come soon enough.”

  I sighed slightly. This term, for the first time since I graduated, I would not be at Eilbeck House. The work on Eilbeck North was now far enough along that I could be on-site all the time, putting in place local relationships and procedures. There were many advantages to that, but it felt strange not to be writing lesson plans and planning Inset days.

  A third car came bumping down the track, and Rob whistled Dimwit back to his side. He said, “Last chance to change your mind.”

  “Not bloody likely,” I said, and he laughed.

  And less than an hour later, the last responsibility for Vainguard had passed from me. It belonged to the Crozier Trust now, and good luck to them. It might not still be cursed, but I couldn’t imagine it would ever be a happy house.