Witchfog

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Witchfog Page 12

by Isobel Robertson


  I frowned. Both with unexpected and inexplicable access to fine items, and with expensive tastes.

  A knock on the door put an end to my musings. The maid appeared in the doorway with the first of the hot water. She tipped it into the tub by the fire, then vanished again. I took the opportunity to pull off my filthy nightgown, replacing it with the dressing gown that lay so conveniently across the foot of the bed. I winced at the state of the nightgown. It would have to be burned. Thank goodness the landlady already knew me, or I would never have been permitted to set foot in such a respectable inn.

  The bath was ready at last, and I sank into the water with a grateful moan. The warmth seeped through to my bones, soothing me like nothing else. I luxuriated in it, sliding deeper under the surface as the steam rose around me.

  “Breakfast?”

  I splashed about in shock, my eyes flying open. Theo stood in the doorway, a tray balanced in his hands.

  “What are you doing in my room?” I demanded. He stepped in, letting the door close behind him. He smiled down at me wickedly. “Just helping my sister with her morning rounds. She’s very busy today, so I volunteered to take on a little of the work.”

  “You volunteered to visit me while I bathed?”

  “Ah now, how was I to know you would be taking a bath?”

  “The maid told you.”

  Theo laughed, setting the tray down on a nearby table and pulling over a chair to sit beside me.

  “I confess, you’ve caught me out.”

  He sobered, the smile disappearing from his face.

  “I wanted to apologise, Lily. Perhaps I'll never make up for what I said and what I did, but I want to at least try. It was inexcusable to send you out onto the moors alone. I came after you straight away, I swear, but you were already gone.”

  Tears prickled in my eyes. I could hardly bear to look at him. Which Theo was this? The gentle man who had loved and kissed me, or the hard witch-hunter who had sent me into danger based only on suspicion?

  “I don’t understand how you could treat me like that,” I told him. “Not after… everything that happened.”

  He groaned softly. When I chanced a glance at him, he had his head buried in his hands.

  “I was afraid,” he said, his voice muffled. “When you have run from those creatures for as long as I have, they start to creep into every corner of your awareness. It feels as if the darkness is always coming, no matter how bright the light.”

  He looked up, facing me directly.

  “My mother and father were both killed by witches. My grandfather swore his revenge, and that is how the coven queen came to be trapped in a suspended death. He could not kill her, for he did not have the right weapon, but he was able to defeat her, nonetheless. He raised me and Elspeth to hate and fear the witches that killed our parents. To even imagine that I might have invited magic into my life - well, it was a shock.”

  I nodded slowly. His words made sense although I could not entirely forgive how he had treated me.

  “You should have trusted me, Theo,” I told him. “Whatever your suspicions, you should have trusted me to be better than those witches.”

  “I know,” he whispered. “I let my fear take control, and I cannot apologise enough for that.”

  We sat in silence for a few moments, the bath water slowly cooling around me.

  “I forgive you,” I told him suddenly, the words slipping out before the thought had even settled in my mind. Theo stared at me, his fist pressed against his mouth. He seemed lost for words.

  I stood up, letting the water cascade off me, and I reached out to grip his fingers, peeling them away from his mouth. He let me hold them, his face blank as he looked up at me. I stepped out of the tub, ignoring the water pouring off me, and awkwardly stooped down to kiss him, my lips lingering on the space his hand had covered.

  When I pulled away, pushing damp tendrils of hair away from my face, I saw that same wonder in his face that I had glimpsed before.

  “I forgive you,” I said again, and kissed him one more time. “Now leave me to get dressed. We have a lot to do if I am to return to London.”

  Something in his eyes shifted. He grabbed me around the waist, pulling my wet body close against him, and kissed me hard. Then he let me go and left the room without another word, water dripping after him.

  Trembling, I pulled on the dressing gown and ate my cold breakfast, resisting the urge to send for a fresh one. The less company I received, the better. My heart ached at the thought of leaving Theo, but he would never let me return to the Hall. I would have to act alone.

  I had no particular difficulty slipping out of the inn unnoticed. A new rush of visitors had arrived, and Elspeth rushed back and forth helping them into the common room. A pair of boots in roughly my size stood unnoticed in a corner of the hallway. Elspeth’s? I took them, feeling a little guilty. I passed down the hallway and out into the courtyard, moving with all the confidence I could muster.

  Onto the road again, its surface hard underfoot. I would be safe for most of the journey. Only when I turned off this main way onto the final road to the Hall would the witches be able to come for me. I would have to walk that last stretch as quickly as possible and then pray that the house was still safe enough for a search. I did not want to think about Mrs Pender.

  I set off determinedly, marching past hedgerows and field gates as I swept towards Killston Hall. Unlike the previous day, I felt confident that I remembered my route. I was still tired, of course, from my journey across the moors, but at least there was some safety here on this protected road.

  I felt when I crossed off the old way. Felt it like a physical change in my own body.

  I turned to look back, wondering if any line marked the change from one to the other. There was no visible difference, nothing at all. Yet I knew that things had changed. I broke into a run, remembering that the Hall still lay some distance away. The witches knew I had stepped off the road. The knowledge shivered in my bones. My borrowed boots pounded hard on the packed dirt of the road. I gripped my skirts in both my hands, pulling them up to my knees. I must not stumble. Not here.

  My legs burned, and the sharp sting of fresh blisters pinched my feet, but I did not dare slow. What would they do if they caught me?

  I saw the Hall ahead of me now, its faint outline visible on the hill that rose from the low roll of the moorland. Too far away. I braced myself for the mist, ready to fight whatever strange creatures arose from it - but none came. The day was hazy and grey, but the air seemed clear of fog. Was I safe?

  And then I heard the howl. They had brought the beast again.

  I sucked in a sharp breath, stumbling hard on the pebbles of the road, and almost coming to a stop. My fear was suddenly replaced with a dull, heavy certainty. The witches expected the beast to kill me but, once again, I knew that it would not. I would control it again. But what would the witches do then? I must not let it catch me.

  I whirled around on the road, my feet crunching on the stones, but I could not see it. Which direction had that howl come from? I closed my eyes, reaching for a faint memory of the sound. Behind me? But when it came again, it was to the left, and closer. I began to run again, fighting against the sharp pains in my feet that demanded I halt. I did not have far to go before I reached the Hall now, its dark bulk tantalisingly close on the horizon.

  I held back a whimper of fear, trying to ignore the howl that cut through the still air around me. Almost there. I could not give up now, not when I was so close to saving Monsieur Lavelle. But the faint stench of blood drifted from my torn and battered feet and I knew the monster smelled it too.

  I could see the opening of the driveway, the widening of the road at the point where the hedgerows opened towards the house. So close.

  Another howl sounded behind me, and I knew with a sudden dreadful heaviness that I would not reach the doors of the Hall in time. The monster had stopped at the property boundaries before, but who knew which of the old ru
les still held? One last burst of speed. Perhaps I would make it.

  And then everything changed.

  A shout echoed out over the moors with fierce anger. Not calling my name, not using any words I understood. It was a shout of total and utter rage screaming out words in a language long dead. Theo.

  I staggered to a halt, uncertain what to do. I could see the Hall, close enough for me to reach in a few moments. Deep in my blood, I knew that the beast's attention had turned away from me. I might make it into the abandoned wing before the witches returned. Theo had given me a chance.

  But how could I leave him to face the beast alone? Yes, he had treated me cruelly. Yet that had somehow not eliminated how I felt for him. I would not let him risk his life for me, not without doing my utmost to help him. The dead could wait. It was the living who needed me most.

  And so, I turned and ran along the road in the direction I had just travelled. A small gate let me through the hedge and onto the moors, and then I let my instincts take over, guiding me to Theo.

  I screamed his name as I ran, forcing gorse and bracken out of my way. My skirts ripped time and time again but I could not summon the excess energy to care. I had to find Theo. The first drops of rain, icy cold, fell on my face. The agony from my feet almost overpowered me, so strong that I barely remained upright, yet some force dragged me onward.

  “Lily!”

  He was near, I felt it. My heart twisted to think of him running out after me.

  “South!” he shouted, and then there was silence.

  I stumbled to a halt, my breath coming hard, filling my ears with its rattling echo. No bird sang, no wind stirred the bracken. I closed my eyes and inhaled hard, forcing my racing heart to still.

  Theo had come to save me. Whatever he was doing, he must be distracting the witches, drawing them away from me.

  South. I had not come from that direction. What lay south?

  Of course! The cottage! I would be safe there.

  I opened my eyes and heard a low moan. Had I made that sound? Mist already spread across the moors, enveloping the soft rain in its white clouds. It must surround the witches. I peered into it for a heartbeat, an eternity. Theo was in that mist, risking his life to save me.

  And then I turned. I could not run, not any more. My body ached and burned, the pain in my feet so strong that I held back a scream with every step. I staggered across the moorland, heading in the direction I judged to be south. Each time I glanced over my shoulder, fearful, the mist kept pace with me. I tried to patch together a map of the area as I stumbled along, tried to calculate where the witches had been. I could not quite hold all the facts in my tired mind.

  By the time I stumbled through the gate and into the safety of the yard, I was exhausted beyond belief. But with the mist thick around me, how could I relax? Theo was still out there. I dumped my bag onto the floor, grateful it had survived all its many adventures. First, I drew out the healing ointment. I rubbed a tiny amount of the precious balm onto my worst cuts and blisters, hissing in relief as the pain eased and the skin began to heal. Next, the compass. If Theo had become lost in the mist, I had to find him. I held it for a second, steadying my breathing, and thinking hard of Theo. The compass detected magnetic vibrations in the air, according to Daniel’s theory, and should be able to detect any major disturbances on the moor.

  There. The needle jerked. It pointed west, to my surprise. Theo must have led the witches a merry dance across the moorland. I grabbed my bag again, slipping it back into my bodice, and set off determinedly.

  “Theo!” I called. “Theo, I’m here! This way!”

  The compass needle still shook and shivered, but I heard nothing. The fog was thick around me now and I shivered, thinking mournfully of my hot bath. Had it been only that morning?

  A stream cut across my path and I stopped, frowning at it. If I went much further, I risked losing my own way. What good would it do anyone if Theo had to come out again himself to find me in the mist? I fought back the growing fear that Theo would never find me at all.

  I called out his name one last time, the fog muting the sound. A sudden splash broke the weighty silence, and I gasped, almost falling as I stumbled on the rocky ground. A figure loomed towards me in the mist, arms outstretched -

  “Theo!”

  I flung my arms around him. His unshaven jaw was rough on my forehead, his breath harsh in my ears, but I did not care.

  “We have to keep moving,” he said, wrapping one arm around me as he stumbled forwards. “Do you know the way back to the cottage?”

  I opened the compass and frowned at it. I needed it to change, to detect safety, not disturbance. Gently, I manoeuvred the tiny button set into its side. The needle flipped.

  “This way,” I said confidently. I could almost feel Theo’s frown burning into my skin, but I did not look up at him. Instead, I continued walking, focusing all my attention on the ground beneath my feet.

  “You have had your last chance.”

  I turned to look at Theo in confusion, only to see the same expression on his face, and the growing horror as realisation dawned. We were not alone.

  We turned to run at the same time, angry hands lashing out to grab at the place we had been standing. This time I did scream, the sound ripping out of my throat as I ran, throwing myself from one side to the other in a desperate attempt to evade the grasping figures that loomed up all around us. To the left, to the right, up ahead. We stumbled to a halt. Surrounded.

  “We offered you a chance to join us, sister,” one woman said, her face hidden below a heavy black hood. “Why did you reject us?”

  “You are not my sister,” I gasped. “I will have nothing to do with you!”

  “Count to three,” Theo said, too softly for the witches to hear.

  I squeezed his fingers in acknowledgement.

  One. Two.

  We ran, throwing ourselves toward the cottage as Theo screamed out his words of protection, my own voice chanting alongside. The women shrank back a little, enough for us to force our way through the line of black robes.

  Into the yard, the gate slamming behind us, then on into the house. I collapsed beside the empty fireplace, watching Theo as he began to build a fire.

  Here I was again. When I left this place, I had not expected to return. This changed everything. Might I once again seize the happiness I had felt here before?

  True Love

  Theo built up the fire and we dozed there until it grew dark, each of us exhausted beyond our usual capacities.

  It was Theo who finally broke the silence with a heavy sigh.

  “I’m sorry, Lily. I should never have treated you so poorly.”

  “Please don’t mention it again,” I said, trying my best to keep my voice calm and light. “Do you have any more supplies here? It’s been a long day, and I find myself rather hungry.”

  “Yes, of course,” Theo said, struggling to his feet. “But perhaps no wine this time.”

  I followed him into the kitchen, attempting to assist him as he prepared a light supper. I had very little experience in cooking; it is not a skill thought necessary for girls of my status. Theo laughed at me a good deal, and I even relaxed enough to laugh at myself. The hands which measured and dissected so neatly seemed utterly useless when it came to chopping and peeling vegetables.

  And so, by the time we had eaten, we were in a much lighter mood. I leaned back in my chair and smiled at Theo.

  “It seems I have finally learnt my lesson. I will not go running about alone on the moors again.”

  Theo smiled back, but his eyes were dark and full of pain.

  “I will make sure that you never need to go alone. Again, I cannot say how sorry-”

  “Please don’t,” I interrupted him. I paused for a second, unsure what to say, unsure how to explain how fully I forgave him.

  “There are forces at work here far greater than either of us understand,” I said at last. “We are both afraid, uncertain. I appreciate h
ow my work must look to you. It has frightened many people. But I assure you, it is science, not magic. It works as well for any other person as it does for me.”

  Theo narrowed his eyes, looking at me closely.

  “Are you sure? Everything you use works just as well for any other person?”

  “Of course,” I told him.

  A few memories tingled at the back of my mind - devices that only worked when I used them, salves that achieved nothing until I mixed them. But I forced those thoughts down. Theo was simply making me nervous.

  “Enough talking of these things,” I said firmly. “We must decide what to do next. I think you already know that I will not meekly return to London as you suggested before.”

  Theo nodded.

  “I cannot guarantee we will find this stone you so desperately seek. But my goal remains the same. I intend to destroy this coven. Will you help me?”

  I scanned his face and saw nothing there but determination.

  “I won’t run any more, Theo. We’ve been hunted like wild animals. I’ve had enough. It’s time to fight.”

  A wicked smile spread across his face.

  “Then we’ll begin tomorrow. It’s time I trained you to fight as a witch hunter. Together, we’ll bring that filthy coven to an end.”

  “Tomorrow?” I raised an eyebrow. “But what will we do to entertain ourselves tonight?”

  He reached forward to brush a tendril of wet hair out of my face. What a fright I must look.

  “I’m sure we can manage,” he said, his voice husky. My breath caught in my throat as our gazes locked.

  His arms snaked around my waist, pulling me close against him. His lips came down on mine, our bodies hard against each other as we kissed.

  I gasped and then fell into him again, tongues tangling and breath mingling.

  He pulled away with a harsh breath, looking down at me with wonder and fear in his eyes.

  “Maybe I hardly know you,” he whispered. “But I love you, Lily Gabriel.”

  I stared back up at him, his words hitting me like a slap to the face.

 

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