by Chris Speyer
‘Lay your torch on the floor!’ I commanded.
Maunder looked surprised, but slowly did as he was bid.
‘Sit against the wall.’
I laid my torch by his and placed the pot between them. The smoke began to fill the air, lit eerily by the flickering flames. I tipped the bones and horns from my sack on to the sand then threw off my hood and cloak, revealing, for the first time, my painted face and witch’s hair. I snatched up the skull and leg bone and began to walk slowly around the fire, tapping the bones and chanting the numbers one to ten in Singhalese, hoping that to Maunder it sounded like a mystical incantation. Time to create some phantasms; I would start with a snake.
In my mind, I pictured a huge, writhing python. As soon as I had all the details clear in my head, the serpent appeared sliding across the cave floor. I sent it slithering towards Maunder, who cried out and struck at it with his knife, but I turned it into a hundred crawling spiders that swarmed across his legs. Then the spiders became a cloud of bats that rose up and flapped their leathery wings around his head, forcing him to crouch, striking out in all directions. Next I pictured a snarling tiger that pinned Maunder to the wall. Its roars echoed about the chamber, to which I added my screams as I leapt through the smoke in a frenzied dance.
Seizing one of the sheep’s horns from the floor, I scooped up a lethal dose of poison from the pot, intending to thrust it into Maunder’s hand – then froze. If he drank it and died, my fate would also be sealed. Crab and his companions were waiting like hungry wolves just outside the cave. A mad, desperate scheme presented itself. I put the brimming horn to my lips, threw back my head and swallowed the bitter contents in one gulp. As the first agonising spasms gripped my stomach I concentrated on filling the cave with as many beating wings, writhing bodies, snarling mouths and flashing eyes as I could hold in my head at one time. I needed Maunder to be utterly terrified. But I needed to work fast. The poison was already in my blood. My heart would cease to beat in less than a minute.
I let my spirit slip from my body into Maunder’s. What I found there was a mind half crazed with fear and a spirit that was crushed and cowering. I must drive his spirit out. I went to work in his mind, raising up the image of the Demon of Blood, Riri Yakka. I knew that if Maunder’s spirit left his body it would go straight to the nearest living thing – and that living thing was my poisoned body. As the demon’s image filled his deranged mind I felt the flood of fear cascading through every cell of his being – then he was gone. I had become Maunder and he me – he was trapped in my dying body like a doomed mariner in a sinking ship. I watched as my own body writhed in its death throwes on the sand, a hand gripping at its heart, black mucus oozing from its nose and mouth. Seconds crept by – and then it lay still.
Maunder’s spirit did not return to Maunder’s body. I had it to myself. But oh, the abomination of that loathsome mind! All his past crimes, debauchery, desires and cravings were there. A mind corrupted by greed and addicted to cruelty. To live in that body was to live in a cesspit of depravity. Surely it would have been better to choose a clean and honest death? But I had to think of Una. My spirit had to lock the door on Maunder’s thoughts and memories and tune his mind to my purposes.
I lifted the body that had been mine and laid it on a low stone shelf by the cave wall. I must have the bracelet. I attempted to slip it off the lifeless arm. But it would not move! It was as though it were welded to the flesh. I tugged and twisted but I could not free it. Should I cut it loose and mutilate what had so recently been me? No, my spirit recoiled; I could not bear to do it.
I had betrayed the power of the bracelet and now it would not be mine. I had killed, even if the body I had killed was my own. Had the bracelet the power to resurrect as well as cure? Might my body return to life and Maunder’s spirit with it? I must seal the cave. With what? How? Even with the strength of Maunder’s powerful body, I could not do it alone. But I was Maunder! His gang would obey me! I need only give the order.
I blundered through the blinding smoke to the cave-mouth. As I emerged, the faces of the waiting men, half lit by their lanterns, turned expectantly. My instinct was to flee but I reminded myself that who they saw was Maunder. ‘I have killed the witch!’ The shock of hearing Maunder’s voice speak my words momentarily confused me.
‘Do we bury ’er, Cap’n?’ asked Crab.
‘No! We must seal the cave.’
‘What of our booty?’ asked another.
‘Aye!’ the others chorused.’
‘You wouldn’t be tryin’ to double-cross us, would ’e, Cap’n?’ wheedled Crab. ‘Yer wouldn’t be thinkin’ of keepin’ our share to yourself? The girl is dead?’
‘You have my word she’s dead,’ I said firmly. But I saw my mistake. They would never close up the cave with the treasure inside. ‘We will empty the cave and divide everything between us.’ No sooner were the words out of my mouth than there was a stampede for the cave. ‘Don’t touch the girl, or anything she’s wearing!’ I shouted.
Fighting broke out almost immediately, but I drew Maunder’s pistol and forced them to make a pile of the chests and casks on the sand. When the cave was empty, I ordered the rest of the torches lit and then set them to work shovelling the sand from under the boulder on the side of the cave-mouth. While this was being done, a runner was sent to bring ropes, timbers and as many extra hands as he could muster. When all was ready, I assembled my crew around the boulder – some to push, some to pull, others to lever it into place – and the great stone was rolled into the mouth of the cave, where it fitted with remarkably few gaps. Those spaces that remained were filled with smaller stones until I was satisfied that no creature could enter or exit.
‘Crab,’ I said, ‘see that the booty is fairy divided.’ I knew the mayhem this would unleash, and I was not disappointed. As I strode off into the darkness, the sounds of shots, cries, curses and the clash of steel echoed about the valley.
The business of sealing the cave had occupied me so fully that I had had no time to consider my own predicament. I was alive but, to the rest of the world, I was Maunder. I was desperate to see Una but without the bracelet I could not give her warning of my transformation. I took the path out along the headland towards Mrs Ball’s cottage but when I drew near I chose a vantage point where I could observe the house and still remain hidden among the gorse and rocks.
As I expected, Una’s thin figure appeared as soon as the sun was up and struck off down the rough track to the shore. I waited a few minutes and then made my way down to the cottage. The door stood open as Una had left it (as Una now always left it). The cottage was empty. I had hoped to find Mrs Ball – to explain to her the situation and ask her to speak to Una. But the old lady must have waited for me to return and, when I did not, gone to make enquiries. I pondered what I should do. I was concerned that, having rid themselves of one witch, Maunder’s pack would decide to rid themselves of the witch’s sister. Perhaps I could watch over Una without showing myself to her.
I knew where Una would be and, keeping out of sight, I climbed down to a ledge from which I could observe her. She sat motionless on the flat rock like the statues of Buddha I had seen in Ceylon, legs crossed, hands resting in her lap, the palms open, gazing out to sea. There she remained throughout the day, never moving while I waited and watched. I longed to go to her, to put my arms around her and hold her. She was all that I had left to love. My sole reason for being alive. But I knew I must not. Her poor disturbed mind would never grasp what had happened to me. If she caught sight of Maunder, she would believe I was dead.
It grew dark and still she sat there. I could bear it no longer. I left the ledge and crept down close to her, keeping behind rocks, then whispered as softly as I could, ‘Una – it’s me – Rhiannon.’
I waited. There was no response. I whispered again – louder this time. But no – not even the slightest movement.
At last I went up to her and laid my hand gently on her arm. To my horror it was cold. No
t the coldness of one who has sat too long in the wind, but the coldness of death. I held my hand by her nose and mouth – was there a faint breath? I laid my ear to her chest, praying for a heartbeat – but I heard nothing. Her eyes were open, unblinking. Her spirit had stayed away too long. If not already dead, her body would die very soon.
Being Maunder, I had no trouble lifting her. I carried her up the track to the cottage. Stepping through the doorway, Una’s body limp in my arms, I came upon Mrs Ball.
‘Murderer!’ she screamed. ‘Wicked, evil monster! Wasn’t it enough for you to murder Rhiannon that you must murder her sister as well? Poor simple creature, what harm could she do you?’
Seeing what she saw, what else could she believe? I tried to stammer an explanation but she rushed past me, only pausing on the threshold to shout, ‘You will hang for this!’
I laid Una on her bed. Kneeling on the floor beside her I let my head rest on her still body and my hand toyed with the bracelet around her thin, cold wrist. Let them hang me. What did I care? I had no desire to live as Maunder and with Una gone there was nothing to tie me to this world. I comforted myself with the thought that Una was where she loved to be, swimming in the body of a dolphin. A great tiredness weighed me down and sleep soon released my spirit to travel where it wished. I was with Una. We were dolphins together, leaping and playing, sending pearls of spray glittering high into the sunlight.
g
Daylight woke me. As the fog of sleep cleared I had a vague sense that something dreadful had happened or was about to happen. I half raised myself and saw Maunder’s huge body slumped on the floor beside the bed. A swirl of confused thoughts filled my head. I was back in my own body! But my body was dead and sealed in the cave. I should be Maunder – but now Maunder appeared dead! My body felt familiar, yet unfamiliar, lighter, yet still a perfect match for my spirit. On my wrist was the bracelet – but it was loose now – I could slide it on and off. Gradually my careering mind slowed and steadied. I was Una – and I was Rhiannon. My stricken spirit and her dying body had been drawn to each other, had merged and become one. Perhaps, we always were one. Born of the same cell, we became two halves of the same self. I let the realisation take hold, then closed my eyes and searched for her spirit. Like an entity of pure joy I found her revelling in the intoxicating freedom of her life in the ocean. At once I was certain of two things: that she would never come back and, nevertheless, I would always wait for her. I wept. And when I had finished, I dried my eyes and swore I would never weep again.
g
Maunder’s body was dead – stone dead. It took me an hour to drag it outside and down to Mrs Ball’s herb garden. It took a further four hours to dig a hole big enough to bury it behind the sage bush. That done, I returned to the cottage to await Mrs Ball’s return.
Mrs Ball did not return for two days and when she did it was with the excise men of the Plymouth garrison. She was astonished to find Una (as she believed me to be) recovered. I told her and the men of the garrison that Maunder had left me for dead and was probably miles away by now. A search was mounted but, of course, he was never found. Maunder’s followers were rounded up and marched to Plymouth, where many were hanged when the Honourable Robert Stapleton, seeing which way the wind was blowing, informed against them. The rest were transported to Australia.
Once they had gone, I searched the abandoned hovels for the plunder from the cave. Not for myself, I wanted no part of their booty, but I did not want it to fall into Stapleton’s hands. I took everything of value to the one place I thought he would never look, the top of Devil’s Rock, where wind and weather had carved out a deep crevasse. It took three nights to haul it all up there but there was no one to disturb me. And when I was satisfied I would find no more, I filled the remainder of the hole with loose stones and built a cairn on top.
One piece I did keep, a locket my father had given to my mother the Christmas before our departure from Wales. The two miniatures it contained were much damaged by salt water but I could still make out my dear parents’ faces. It is all I have to remind me that I once had love and happiness.
Drinking and gambling soon reduced Stapleton to penury and the estate was sold to cover his debts. The new owners had no enthusiasm for farming the fields around the Orme and so we were allowed to remain in the old cottage where I cared for Mrs Ball until she passed away.
After the old woman died, I could not bear to remain alone in the cottage. I left and took work where I could get it in the great houses of Devon and Cornwall. Ten years passed, then twenty and thirty but, as the years went by, I found I grew no older. Others grew up, had children, raised families, aged and passed on, but year after year my sixteen-year-old face stared back at me from every mirror. At first I thought it a blessing to always have my youth, but I soon learnt it was a curse. If I remained in one place for any great length of time, people would begin to remark on my enduring youthfulness, then the whispering would start and I would be forced to move on.
I understood now that when Una left her body to live with the dolphins and I took Maunder’s body and then her body for my own, we had violated the great universal law that says you cannot move from one life to another without first dying. We had broken the cycle of birth and death. I was trapped in a body that would never change, that could not change until it was reunited with Una’s spirit. Only then could we both be freed. So I returned to the Orme, to the cottage – certain that Una’s spirit was still out there somewhere in the great ocean. But how to find her? I became obsessed by the idea of having my own boat – with a boat I could search for my sister, and I could earn a livelihood. My obsession finally drove me to climb the rock and do what I swore I would never do – I took some of Maunder’s treasure and sold it.
Now I have my boat and I work the oyster beds in the season, and I fish, and I call the dolphins, and I search the sea for my sister’s spirit.
* * *
Dear stranger, that is my story. Pray for me. Pray that one day I may be free. Pray that one day my sister will remember me and return.
Oh, Una, wherever you are, when you do return, you will find me here, waiting.
g
Chapter 19
Zaki looked at Anusha to see if she had finished reading. Anusha nodded and Zaki closed the book. Neither spoke but when their eyes met, Anusha let out a long breath. Zaki climbed up on deck and stood looking at the familiar scene – a few dinghies out sailing, the South Sands ferry busily making its way down the inlet, the harbourmaster’s launch going about its business. How could everything appear so normal? Anusha emerged from the steps and stood beside him.
‘It’s Maunder. That’s what got into me in the cave.’
‘But how could he still be there? It was over a hundred years ago! And she killed him.’
‘No. She poisoned her own body thinking Maunder’s spirit would die with it. The bracelet held his spirit until I put it on, then it passed into me. I let it out. I released it from the cave. I’m like a carrier. It’s like I’ve got a disease but I don’t know the cure.’
‘What about the girl – Rhiannon – maybe she knows what to do?’
‘I think she’s as puzzled as we are. She’s been watching me ever since we got back from the Orme.’
‘The cat?’
‘Yes.’
‘So she knew we were on her boat!’
‘She knew we got on but she must have thought we’d left before she cast off.’
‘Perhaps she meant us to find the book.’
‘Perhaps. But I wasn’t supposed to take the bracelet. I wish I could talk to her but I know she doesn’t want me anywhere near her. And you can’t blame her. What if Maunder suddenly took control of my body and I went for her?’
‘Well, you can’t talk to her – but I can.’
Zaki looked at Anusha. She was right! There was no reason why Anusha and Rhiannon shouldn’t meet. Was there?
‘What about some lunch?’ Anusha asked suddenly. ‘I’m starving!’
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‘Food. Good idea.’
They ate on deck in the autumn sunshine. Despite everything, it was good to be on the boat on such a beautiful day. Anusha asked questions about the rigging, about how everything worked, and Zaki answered them, happy for the chance to show off his knowledge.
‘What about a sailing lesson?’ Anusha asked as they tidied away the picnic.
‘What? Now?’
‘Why not?’
Yes – why not, thought Zaki. A nice little breeze had set in – perfect for a beginner. ‘OK. We’ll have to rig the dinghy.’
Zaki pulled the dinghy up alongside Morveren and climbed down into it. Soon, the dinghy was rigged and they cast off from Morveren.
‘Where are we going?’
‘Frogmore Creek?’
‘Sounds good to me. I like frogs.’
Any girl who likes frogs has got to be all right, thought Zaki and grinned at Anusha.
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’
They had the wind behind them at first and then on the beam as they rounded Snapes Point and headed up towards Kingsbridge. After the point, they entered the part of the estuary known as The Bag, where the shoreline on each side falls away, creating a wide but well protected anchorage. The many yachts and launches on their swinging moorings provided Zaki and Anusha with an obstacle course through which to sail.
Zaki taught Anusha how to adjust the sails to suit the wind. During their lesson, the wind picked up and Zaki showed Anusha how to tuck her toes under the foot strap and lean out to keep the boat upright.
‘Ever fallen out?’ asked Anusha, as they both threw their weight back, leaning out as far as they could to balance a fresh gust.
‘Not yet!’ laughed Zaki.
‘Hey, yeah! I could learn to like this!’ shouted Anusha as the dinghy took off, skimming across the water in a flurry of spray.