The Thirteen Stones

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The Thirteen Stones Page 13

by Finegan, KT


  I stood up abruptly. That wasn’t what I had expected, and Angel and Grizelle were standing in front of me, waiting for me this time.

  ‘Anything?’ I asked.

  ‘The same,’ they both said at once.

  ‘And you?’ Angel asked, and they both laughed a little.

  I didn’t want to say what had happened. How could I explain that to them? To anyone? So I fell in step behind them as we walked quickly back to the car. Out here high above the town, we could see a fog descending on the town, or perhaps it was lifting up from it. The light had started to fade into darkness and we moved a little faster.

  We managed to find and inspect the next three Stones before night fell on us. The moon was hidden somewhere in the fog and clouds, and we had to leave our search.

  Grizelle and Angel said the same things after touching each of the Stones. None of them had moved from position, but there was a sense of movement underground. Deep underground. I assumed it was the earth movement at the quarry. Whatever else could it have been? If the Stones had been moved from below, what else could have been responsible?

  On the way back to the car, I walked with Grizelle. She linked arms with me and I had a sense that’s what she would have done with my gran when they were children.

  ‘Grizelle, can I ask you something, please?’ I felt like I was five years old and expecting a scolding. She turned slightly towards me which I took as permission.

  ‘Were you really disappointed with me earlier when I didn’t want to touch the Stone? I’m really sorry if you were. I was a bit scared. I hope you understand and aren’t angry.’

  I winced, waiting for her condemnation. When none came, I chanced a glance in her direction. She was looking at me, really looking at me, and I realised how difficult I found it to look directly at people. I had got into a habit of looking all around with little bits of eye contact, rather than like this direct gaze from Grizelle. After a few minutes, I raised my eyes and looked back at her.

  She said, ‘That’s better, Kirsty. When we can look at each other like this, we can sense so much more, can’t we? There’s nothing to be sorry about. There is no judgement involved. You are at liberty to do whatever you need to do. That’s the truth. And it will make no difference to me. We are connected, all of us, but we have to make our own decisions. If something doesn’t feel right to you, then that’s your decision.’

  ‘I thought you might be a little angry with me.’

  ‘Why would I be? You have to do what’s right for you, as do I. Perhaps you were disappointed in yourself and you were looking for me to validate that negative feeling in some way? I’ve found over the years that what we sense most in other people is what we have inside of us. I think the psychologists call it reflection or something like that. It amuses me that we never do that with fun and laughter, and happy emotions, though, do we? We usually do it with the negative stuff.’

  She slowed down a little as we reached the car. ‘Let me tell you what your gran taught me that a long time ago. When my husband died, I was so angry and I found I met anger everywhere. When he died, he was being investigated for a fraud. He had taken clients’ money and spent it, and he was found out. It was a terrible time. For everyone. You see, he was a gambler. It was a secret shame of ours, and no-one knew. That’s why he stole the money, to try and win back his losses, but he got caught. I was so angry with him and I didn’t know how to express that.

  ‘When he died I felt so guilty knowing that I hadn’t supported him. As bad as it was that he was gambling, I was ashamed and angry at myself that he didn’t dare tell me and that he must have been so lost and alone, and scared. For those weeks after he died, I was lost. I drank really heavily. To be honest, I’d been drinking too much for years.’

  She paused and looked into my eyes. ‘I know I can see in your face that you didn’t know that. No-one did, or at least that’s what I thought. I thought that I had hidden my drinking well. I was always careful to buy wine in different shops on different nights. I made up stories about having dinner parties and would stock up in out-of-town supermarkets so no-one would know. But, of course, Gordon knew, and your gran knew. She was always there, but to be honest that annoyed me, and I even stopped speaking to her for a while just before it all came out.

  ‘So I lost my best friend because of my drinking, and then I lost Gordon and almost everything. A few weeks after he died, I knew I was going to lose the house and all my possessions to pay back all the debts. It was the right thing to do, but I was sitting feeling sorry for myself, drinking. I had the “me-me’s”.’

  She lifted an eyebrow, smiling wryly at my confused expression. ‘You know, poor wee me. Why me? Everything happens to me. You know what I mean? Well late that night, your gran turned up at my door with a van and four big lads. While I sat there, they worked their way around the house shifting out all my antiques and personal pieces. She told me to pack my suitcases, and we took all of my prized possessions, things that mattered to me like my mother’s linen and good china, and lots of other stuff. I didn’t know where we were going, but we all got into the van and she brought me to the back door of the shop.

  ‘She had arranged with the landlord for me to have the shop and the flat above it for six months’ rent-free. I moved in that night and opened the shop a couple of days later, then sold most of the furniture and pieces that we had taken from the house. I have no idea how we got away with it.

  ‘The bank got the house and what was left. That house was full of stuff I’d bought but hadn’t cared for so I really didn’t mind it going. That was twenty years ago. Eventually, I let go of almost all the rest of the pieces, because I realised that they weren’t important to me. I had no idea that I would have enjoyed my life so much, but your gran knew, and she was right.

  ‘She was there for me when I thought most of the town were talking about me. It was only over time that I realised that they weren’t being malicious and that they did care for me. They were all as shocked as I was, but they cared and showed that over the years by supporting my business.’

  We’d reached the car, and she stopped before unlocking the passenger door. ‘I stopped drinking then. Not immediately… There were lots of sad nights drinking my wine, feeling sorry for myself. But over time I felt better, and your gran was always around with her lotions and potions… and they all worked. She told me that I was a silly, self-obsessed woman, and to get over myself as we had work to do. And she was right!’

  She gave me a brief hug before we all got back into her car and drove back to Angel’s flat. When Grizelle dropped us off, we agreed to meet up the next day to cover the rest of the Stones in daylight. I had really wanted to see all the Stones were okay for my gran, and now we would have to start again in the morning.

  I tried but couldn’t shake the strange feeling I’d had when I’d heard that man’s deep voice calling me. Still feeling unsettled, I left Angel to pop into her café to check on things, and I went up to the flat.

  As I climbed onto the landing outside her front door, a wind whipped round and again I heard the man’s voice calling out my name. Or perhaps it was the wind and my vivid imagination. I shivered and sensed the fog and cold night reaching into my bones, so quickly unlocked the door and put on all the lights. Then I closed the curtains and dropped the blinds against whatever was out there. The dark was now a place of worry for me.

  I managed to light the stove, after a few attempts and lots of firelighters, and settled down to read the red-covered book I’d found in the library. It had a beautifully embossed leather cover, and as I turned the pages I could see that it was finely illustrated, like the much older book I’d dropped.

  I turned to the front inside cover, but strangely there were no details of the publisher, edition, or dates. There was only a list of names and dates. Actually, to be accurate, it was the same name written over and over in different inks and different handwriting
. My name, and that of my mother, and of my grandmother: Kirsten Cairngeal Wallace.

  21

  It was a strange feeling, as if I had lived a hundred times before. I knew Kirsty was abbreviated for Kirsten, but seeing the name written in a long list hit me and I felt a connection, a whisper not just to my gran, but to her gran, and hers before her. I wondered if they had all been as close as we had been. Did they understand that special relationship you could have with your mother’s mother? Had any of them lost their parents young?

  For the first time, I wanted to know more about my family, my ancestors, and what they did to help the town. The realisation that it fell to me and that I was the last of the line struck me and I shivered; the lights in the room flickered as if to acknowledge the depth of my feeling.

  I turned to the pages at the front of the book, but the tiny and ornate script was difficult to read. I couldn’t make much of it out, but there were recipes and illustrations and I wondered if Gran had used these in her herbal preparations.

  Drawings of the garden, with details of the plants and how to care for them, came next. All very useful, but not what I was looking for. Towards the back of the book I saw the illustration of what looked like the stained glass window from the church, the one with the dragon. The church must have copied this drawing. Was that significant or not?

  I sat and stared at the picture, trying to work out what it was trying to tell me. Its message eluded me, so I turned over more pages and found an exact drawing of our Stone, then further on a map of all the Stones, with the town in the centre. What was it trying to say?

  ‘Gran, or angels, I need your help,’ I whispered. ‘What am I missing?’

  Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t she have left me something easier to understand? With that thought, guilt and shame hit me. Gran had gone because she felt she had to, and here I was feeling sorry for myself. Where would that get me?

  It was time for me to use whatever gifts I had inherited. I had to find a way to sort things out. There was information in this book and I had to find it.

  I started again at the beginning, turning over each page slowly and carefully. There had to be something in it for me. I concentrated again on the map, and then the illustration of the dragon and maiden copied onto the stained glass window. I couldn’t find anything significant on it, but that was hardly surprising when I didn’t know what I was looking for.

  I flicked over the last page and noticed that there was something tucked into the end cover. My heart was racing as I pulled out an ancient piece of parchment, like it had been torn from a much bigger page. I turned it over and grimaced when I saw it was a garish monster. A black, two-headed, horned beast, which almost leapt from the paper in fury. Red-eyes, its teeth were bared, and claws dripping blood. It was hideous, like something from a nightmare.

  In the corner of the page was a five-sided star surrounded by a circle. The sign of protection from evil. It seemed appropriate to have it on this drawing. I folded the paper and popped it back inside the book. It was grotesque, but not what I was looking for.

  I heard Angel come in and got up to offer to cook for a change, but she had brought a shepherd’s pie which she quickly popped into the oven to warm. The aroma soon filled the flat and we ate in front of the stove, with large white candles flickering on the hearth, wax dripping onto the older collection.

  I made us some tea and showed Angel the book. She flicked through it for a few moments before stopping at the map of the town and the Stones. Perhaps it was the angle she held it at, perhaps it was the food and relaxation, but for the first time I noticed what was sitting dead centre in the middle of the Stones. It was the church. And I knew then. Gran had said, ‘Find the door.’ She had already given me the key. I just had to find it.

  My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door. I wasn’t surprised to see Grizelle, and while Angel made more tea, I showed the older woman the book and explained what I’d worked out.

  ‘Is that all too simple, do you think?’ I asked nervously. ‘That there is a doorway somewhere, and if I go through it I’ll somehow see Gran again? Or will it help the Stones?’ What had seemed so clear to me only a few minutes before was now as vague and opaque as the fog outside the windows.

  ‘I’m sure it will all work out,’ said Angel, bringing in the tray of tea. ‘It’s a sign, I’m sure of it.’

  I felt like screaming at her, but managed to hold it back. Thankfully, Grizelle spoke before I could say react.

  ‘I had an idea of how we can find out more about the Stones,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe we didn’t think of it earlier.’

  Angel looked at her and laughed. ‘Of course, we could dowse for it with a pendulum. What are we like? We know the Stones are telling us that it’s the Thirteenth at the quarry that’s in most danger. We don’t need to go and see all the others, we can just use a pendulum to check if that’s accurate. Now all we need is a map.’ She looked pointedly at me and my book.

  ‘What do you do?’ I snapped in frustration. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘People have used dowsing and pendulums for years,’ explained Grizelle. ‘In many cultures, dowsing leads people to underground water, and farmers use pendulums to sex eggs so that they keep the females. All you need is something weighted to hang from a string, and you can ask yes and no questions. The pendulum swings to let you know the answer. Here, let me show you, it’s easier if you see it in action.’

  Angel opened one of the two long drawers in her coffee table and pulled out a selection of crystals of different shapes and sizes. All of them had a chain or string connected to one end, so that they swung down when she lifted them by the top of the chain.

  ‘These are pendulums, and first you have to ask a question you know the answer to. For instance, is my name Angel?’ She stopped and looked at the pendulum she had chosen from her collection – a drop of copper-coloured metal in the shape of an upside-down pyramid.

  The pendulum moved on the chain, vibrating, then settling into a swing towards and away from Angel. She then asked, ‘Is my name Kirsty?

  This time the pendulum started swinging from right to left.

  I had never seen anything like it, and my first thought was that she was making it move. She had to be.

  ‘Try it,’ she urged.

  I picked up a lavender-coloured stone. It was about two inches long, with a clear crystal on top, and hanging from a silver chain. ‘Erm… is my name Kirsty?’ I asked, embarrassed. Immediately I could feel the pendulum tremble then it started to swing from left to right.

  ‘Ask something else,’ coaxed Angel.

  ‘Is my name Grizelle?’ The stone seemed to stop mid-swing then changed course and moved backwards and forwards.

  ‘It’s different for everyone,’ said Grizelle. ‘My “no” is when it spins round and round; my “yes” is when it goes from the right and left.’

  I was still taken aback. ‘So what do you use it for?’

  ‘We can ask the pendulum to show us things, or tell us things, you know… to validate ideas we’ve had,’ said Angel. ‘I’ve used it to pinpoint where to put crystals or where to send healing. Tonight we can use it to check on the stones. And, if needed, we can use it to cleanse the energy.’

  ‘How do you do that?’

  ‘We ask for negative energies to be taken out. I use it in that way to cleanse rooms.’

  Grizelle interrupted. ‘I ask for negativity to be transmuted from furniture in the shop, and positive energies to be put in place. I guarantee when I do that the piece always sells quickly.’

  ‘So how do you use the pendulum in that way?’

  ‘You can sense it,’ said Angel. ‘The pendulum will spin anti-clockwise for negativity, then when it stops and I ask for positive energy it will spin clockwise. It’s a simple tool but one which has probably been used since Stone Age time
s.’

  ‘What will we do with it tonight?’ I asked.

  ‘We can use it over the map to ask if we need to go to any of the Stones. It will be interesting to see if it backs up what we learned today.’

  Angel took my book and opened it at the map. She held her pendulum over the top and asked, ‘Do we need to visit the eighth Stone?’ The crystal swung from side to side, her signal for no.

  She asked the same question for all the Stones until she reached the thirteenth Stone. This time the pendulum swung back and forward. Her signal for yes.

  She asked, ‘Is the thirteenth Stone safe?’ The pendulum swung from side to side again. No.

  Grizelle and I then did the same. We all had the same answers. The thirteenth Stone wasn’t safe. We would need to visit it the next day, but I felt anxious. What if we weren’t on time? What if something terrible happened and it was all my fault?

  Grizelle left for home, and I wished Angel good night and went through to bed. My head was swimming after the day we’d had. I still wasn’t sure if there was any significance in seeing from the map that the Stones surrounded the Church for protection, or whether that was a fanciful notion. Maybe I was just trying to make some sense out of everything that had happened.

  It took me ages to fall asleep, and again I heard my name called. This time by a woman, but also a man. Whatever was going to happen seemed to be coming faster and faster towards me.

  22

  I woke early with the sound of the church bells sounding out six am. I couldn’t get back to sleep so I made some tea and propped myself upon my pillows to read the red-covered book. It was hard to understand the script in the front of the book, but I found that towards the back it was easier, as if different people over the years had written and re-written key phrases.

  Much of the writing related to what Gran had called potions and lotions, and I wondered what that kind of life would be like. Growing and using plants, enjoying a quiet way of life in a small community. Now that I had the house and some money, maybe I could return to live here, perhaps get some work from Angel or even at a local shop or pub. I’d pulled pints part time when I was at university, so I was sure I could do it again if required.

 

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