by Alys West
She’d lined them up as she’d waited behind the pampas grass watching the drama unfold inside. She’d found them in the flowerbed. Three fist-sized stones that even she could throw.
There was a lot of screaming coming from the room next door. It sounded like Felicity but it was hard to tell. Where were they? The boys needed to be here now. Zoe peered again at her watch but the light was too dim for her to see.
Movement to her right made her shrink back against the curtain. Ewan was running down the path. Two black birds darted around him, their talons stained with blood. Where had the second one come from? Ewan’s head was scored with claw marks. Blood flowed from his ear, soaking into his shirt collar. He disappeared around the side of the bungalow. Was he heading for his car?
There was only one way to find out. Zoe extricated herself from behind the sofa and returned to the hall. The barking was louder. The dog sounded completely frantic. Keeping a firm grasp on the knife, she opened the front door an inch and peered out. No one around. She slid out, staying in the shadows and darted along the path to the tearooms. She waited at the corner of the building, risked a glance round and then ran on. The gate stood open.
Ewan kicked the flat front tyre of the Range Rover. One bird flapped around his head, the other perched on the bonnet, its beak wide open, its neck outstretched as it cawed at him.
Zoe slowly slid the gate closed. At least then Ewan wasn’t coming back. He might get into the Range Rover and stay there but he wouldn’t be able to return to help Felicity. There were bolts top and bottom. The one at the bottom closed easily but she had to stand on tiptoes to even reach the top one. She was struggling with it when the gate swung open. She stumbled backwards, landing hard on her bottom. The knife fell from her hand.
Crap! Her fingers searched the grass for the knife, closed around the handle. A second later, the barking got louder, a lot louder. She glanced back, expecting Ewan to lurch through the gate at any moment.
Her heart was hammering so hard her chest hurt. Back on her feet, she ruled out running. Running would only make the dog chase her. It hurtled around the corner of the tearooms, black and round and very, very angry. The dog turned two white-rimmed eyes on her as it passed and then burst through the gate into the car park. Zoe ran to the gate in time to see the dog fasten its jaw onto Ewan’s leg. Ewan’s stream of swear words turned into a scream.
Zoe slammed the bottom bolt closed and balanced on her tiptoes long enough to wriggle the top one shut. Knife in hand, she ran back around the tearooms and the bungalow. She slowed as she passed the front door. It stood open which was odd as she’d definitely closed it. Ducking down she scurried across the lawn. Behind the pampas grass, she lay flat on the lawn for a moment as her breathing steadied. Swinging herself round to kneeling, she peered through the concealing fronds of grass.
For a second, she couldn’t figure out what she was seeing and then the shapes reconciled into people and she gasped. “Oh shit!”
***
Winston took the corner by the Earl’s Palace too fast and the car rocked precariously. He swore as he spun the steering wheel. There was nothing coming the other way which was lucky but there was another bend up ahead. He took that a little slower.
“There’s my car.” Finn pointed through the windscreen. The Honda was parked slightly askew next to the village store. “The tearooms are—” Finn broke off at exactly the same moment as Winston said, “What the hell?”
A bald man ran down the road, two enormous black birds swooping and diving around his head. A rather rotund black dog chased behind, barking wildly. The cold ball in Winston’s stomach erupted, pulsing ice through his blood because those were the birds Zoe had drawn. Jenna hadn’t created them. There was no way she’d got magic enough for that.
“Pull up.” Finn reached for his staff. “I’ll deal with it.”
Winston slammed the brakes on. “The birds aren’t—”
“I know.” Finn had got the door open and was halfway out of the car. “Go get Jenna.”
The door slammed. Winston fumbled for first gear. As the car lurched forward the man waved his arms, trying to get Winston’s attention. The Clio picked up speed but the man continued to run straight towards it. At the very last moment, as he stepped aside, he slammed his hands down on the bonnet.
“Fuck!” Winston glanced in the rear-view mirror. Finn had taken a couple of steps off the road, his staff in his hand. The man ran towards him and then suddenly stopped, bouncing backwards as if he’d run into a wall. Winston raised an eyebrow. Invisible barrier. Nice! Whatever else Finn had been doing in Donegal, he’d learnt a trick or two. He was a lot handier in a fight than he used to be.
Over the bridge, he spun the steering wheel to turn into the tearooms’ car park. He parked the Clio at the back of Felicity’s BMW. That’d stop her making a hasty exit. The back tyre caught his attention. Flat. He checked the others. All flat. He barked out a laugh. Was this Zoe’s work? If so, Finn wasn’t the only one who was handier in a fight these days. Another couple of steps confirmed that the tyres on the Range Rover were also flat as proverbial pancakes.
He walked over to the gate marked private, depressed the handle and pushed. It didn’t move. He pressed his palm against the wood, pulled awen into him and directed it into the gate. With so much awen flowing around his veins, the wood swiftly lost its sheen of creosote, became pale and lithe again. This was taking too long. He needed to get in there.
A tender green shoot appeared and curled around the handle. It strengthened, changed from green to brown, grew bark. More awen flowed. The new branch tightened and the handle broke free of the gate. Another shoot grew at the top, followed by a third at the bottom. They twirled over and under the gate. As he watched they grew in strength, changed colour. He heard a clatter as something landed on the path on the other side. A second later, the sound was repeated. Winston pushed against the gate and it opened. The tendrils brushed against his hands, his hair, his legs as he passed.
***
The bird came down again. Its feathers brushed her head and she instinctively shrank back. It dived between her and Felicity, the curved claws reaching for the spellworker’s face. Felicity shrieked with pain. Then her hand came up, palm out towards the bird. As the spellworker started to speak, Jenna swung her body round and kicked out with her uninjured leg. It connected with something bony. She felt the jarring all the way to her toes.
She tried to lever herself upright but it hurt every time she put weight on her ankle. With a yell, Felicity threw herself at Jenna. The air left Jenna’s stomach in a whoosh. Her skull smacked down against the floor and the world spun. Felicity’s hands grabbed hers, forced them behind her head and pinned them against the floor. The bird swooped above them, darting around Felicity’s head.
Felicity let go of one of Jenna’s hands and reached out towards the bird. “Thing of darkness be gone.” The bird was blown backwards. Squawking wildly, its wings battled but the wind Felicity had created was too strong. As it reached the doorway, the bird turned to smoke.
“Screw you!” Jenna screamed. Felicity’s hand connected with her chin, forcing it upwards. Jenna punched again and again, connecting with skin and bone but it wasn’t enough. The pressure in Felicity’s hand increased. It was hard to breathe, really hard. Jenna twisted her head but it didn’t help. She kicked upwards.
Felicity laughed. “You’ll have to do better than that now your pet birds have gone.”
Above Felicity’s head someone loomed with a very large book. Winston. Thank the Goddess. But the figure was smaller and slighter. The book smacked down on Felicity’s head. She sprawled forwards. Jenna’s hands were released as Felicity’s face fell next to hers. Someone’s hands gripped Jenna under the armpits and dragged her loose.
Zoe. It was Zoe who’d hit Felicity.
Her aunt shook her head and pushed herself up to sitting. She pointed a shaking hand at Zoe.
“Where did you come from, you little—?” The l
ast word transformed to a screech as two birds plummeted towards her. Blood already dripped from one’s talons. Felicity hit the floor, covering her head with her hands. Zoe darted over. The birds parted, changing direction in an instant to avoid colliding with her. Zoe bent and grabbed Thor. Her hand swung and the model connected with Felicity’s skull with a sharp crack. Bits of red clay shattered all over the floor but some remained in Felicity’s hair, stuck to the wound that now gaped across her skull.
“That’s for hurting my friend,” Zoe said as she stepped back.
Felicity remained prone. The birds cawed above her, flapping wildly until one settled on her head. The other flew over to the bookcase and perched there.
Jenna pushed her hair away from her face. “Oh my God! How did you get here?”
“Followed you.” Zoe grabbed her arm to help her up.
“Where’s Winston?”
“On his way.” Zoe glanced at her watch. “Should be here any minute.”
How was he not here? She needed him to be here. She needed him to put his arms around her and hold her and pour awen into her to make the pain stop.
“We need to bind her hands and gag her. You can’t do spellwork without your hands.” She began to giggle, then it turned to a laugh and she couldn’t stop. She wrapped her arm around her middle but still the laughter came. “Winston threatened to chop the legs off whoever—”
Zoe’s face became as pale as porcelain. “Jenna.”
“No, you don’t get it.” Laughter continued to bubble out of her. It was so funny. How could Zoe not see it was funny? “He said he’d chop their legs off but I said—”
Zoe’s hand gripped hers. “Jenna. It’s your dad.”
“What’s wrong with Dad?” She spun as she spoke. Her injured leg refused to take the weight. As Zoe grabbed her, Jenna saw a pool under Dad’s chair. It was red, blood red. Lurching towards him, she screamed, “No, Dad! No!”
Chapter 55
In six utterly painful steps Jenna was beside him. She dropped to her knees by his chair.
Blood flowed from his wrists. Both of them. It’d soaked into his trousers, trailed in ruby droplets across his shoes. “What happened?”
Had Ewan done this before he fled? Had she been too busy with Felicity to notice him come back and attack Dad? Then she saw the athame resting on his knees. For a second her heart hesitated and she forgot to breathe.
“Oh Dad, no!” She grabbed Dad’s wrist and turned it. He’d slit down the artery. The wound started half way up his forearm. Scarlet blood pulsed from it.
“Ring an ambulance. Use the phone in the house. We’re at Palace, Birsay.” Jenna rattled off the postcode. “And tell them to hurry.”
“Okay.” Zoe darted towards the door as Dad said, “No, Jenna. It’s time, love.”
Zoe hesitated for a second, met Jenna’s glance and then ran. Jenna looked round for something she could use to make a tourniquet. Something she could tear into strips, something she could pull tight. Belt. She’d seen that on TV. She ripped hers off. She tried to wind it round Dad’s upper arm but he pulled weakly away. She closed her eyes and leaned forward until her forehead met Dad’s sleeve. It smelt of sugar as always but the salt tang of blood was there too.
“Why Dad?” The words would barely pass the constriction in her throat.
“Because they’ll always be able to stop you by threatening me.” Dad’s head came down and rested on hers. “I won’t be their hostage.”
“But I stopped her.” Jenna gestured at Felicity’s prone figure. “She won’t—”
“You won the battle, love.” Dad sounded utterly exhausted. “It’ll take a lot more than that to win the war. Mum suspected there was something brewing–”
“You can’t give up, Dad. I can’t manage…”
“You can, Jenna. You’re stronger than you know. You’ll do just fine.” Dad coughed. “And I’ll be with Nina. She said I’d know when it was time.”
The door swung open. Winston burst in, staff raised, ready to fight.
She stood. Blood dripped from her hands as she held them out to him. “Do something. Use awen. Make the bleeding stop.”
***
There was blood on Jenna’s hands. A lot of blood.
“Where are you hurt?”
“It’s not me. It’s Dad.” Her voice was too high, her eyes full of tears.
His gaze swung to the man in the room and to the prone woman lying by the wall. One of the impossible birds cawed at him from on top of the woman’s head. The other flapped its wings angrily from a perch on the bookshelf. Some woman was singing far too loud from the CD player.
“What happened?” He banged his staff to the floor, sucked awen into him and used it to form a barrier between them and the other occupants of the room. The air shimmered for a second and the cawing muted as the barrier formed and held.
“I’ll tell you later. Just help him.” Jenna bent and touched her father’s shoulder. “Please let Winston help. He’s a druid. The awen will heal you.”
“Is this your druid?” Mr Henderson’s head turned and tired brown eyes peered up at him from a nest of wrinkles. “I don’t need your help, lad. It’s my time. I’m ready.”
“You’ve got to stop saying that, Dad.”
“No, Jenna love, you need to let me go.” A shudder ran through Mr Henderson’s body. “He can help me lie down, though. I’m not going to meet Nina perched on her desk chair.”
“I can do that, Mr Henderson.”
Over her father’s head, Jenna signalled to him to do something. He directed awen down his arms until his hands were warm and prickly. He bent to get her dad’s arm over his shoulder and together they eased to standing. After a piercingly high note, the music stopped.
“Graeme will do fine.” He took a wobbly step, followed by another. “It’s not a time to stand on ceremony.”
Jenna gestured towards the rug, handing Winston a cushion as he helped her father to sit.
“Nina would be fair furious with me if she saw this.” Graeme looked at the blood splatters. “She always did love this rug.”
“She did, Dad.” Tears fell onto Jenna’s vest top, merging with the blood stains already covering it.
Winston kept his hand on Graeme’s shoulder, letting the awen flow into him. Graeme gently shook it off. “And you can stop that now, lad. I know you’re doing it for Jenna’s sake but I don’t need it.” He sank back and Jenna positioned a cushion under his head. “I didn’t know there’d be so much blood. I’d like to have spared you that.”
Winston caught a movement at the window. Zoe. He walked quickly to the door.
“Thank God, you’re here.” Zoe tried to glance past him. “Where’s Finn?”
“Dealing with Ewan. He’ll be here any minute.”
“I rang the ambulance. They said to apply a tourniquet but if you’re here you can—”
He pulled the door to behind him. “He won’t let me. He’s refusing all help.”
“Oh no!” Zoe blinked up at him. “But then he’ll—”
“That’s what he wants.”
“Oh God, poor Jenna. She fought like a demon. Felicity was trying to use magic but Jenna took her down. She was awesome. I only came in at the end when —” Zoe broke off. “Sorry, I’m babbling. You need to get back in there.”
“Tell Finn.” He pushed the door open again. There was more blood on the rug now. It was spreading outwards around Graeme’s body, a scarlet patch that merged with and engulfed the stripes.
***
Winston crossed the room and sank back next to her. He reached for her hand. His fingers were hot and tingly against hers. She shivered. She was cold to the core. So very, very cold.
“I love you, Dad.” Taking his hand, she whispered the words again and again. Like a litany, like a mantra. He had to know. She had to dispel the things she’d said earlier. She’d not meant them. Not really. “I’m so sorry, so sorry.”
“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, love
. I’m the one who should be sorry. I should have told you the truth about Felicity but I thought…” His eyes closed for a moment as he inhaled. “I thought if you didn’t know you’d be safe. Look what knowing did to Mum.”
She leaned closer. “What do you mean, Dad?”
His arm stirred as if he wanted to raise it but it was too much effort. “You’re right, it was Felicity.”
“About Mum? Did Felicity kill Mum?”
His breathing was too shallow. She shouldn’t be making him talk. He needed to save it until the ambulance got here. They’d help him. No matter what he said.
“Not herself.” He shook his head once very slowly. “She’s not powerful enough for that but she was responsible.”
Winston’s hand tightened on hers. “Are you sure, Mr— Graeme?”
“I’ve no proof if that’s what you mean. At least none that’d stand up in court.” Dad’s gaze held Winston’s. “I’m glad I got to meet you. You seem alright. For a druid. You’ll take care of Jenna, won’t you?”
“Dad!” The protest came before she could bite it off.
“I will, Graeme. You can trust me on that.”
“Good.” The word was barely a whisper. His chest was barely rising and falling. His eyes returned to hold her gaze. “I’ll tell Nina about your druid. She’d have liked…”
“Oh Dad. Please don’t do this.”
Winston’s arms came round her. He held her next to his chest but she tried to push him away, hitting out with her fists, wanting to hurt him, to hurt anyone because it couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t. She felt heat around her, smelt burning wood but she couldn’t look in case she saw that he’d gone. Winston repeated her name again and again. His hand stroked her hair. And then she couldn’t fight anymore. Sobs swarmed up her throat and he held her as the tears fell and fell.
***
“Where is he?” the paramedic asked as she sprinted across the car park.