Under the Cobblestones

by Aline Riva

  “What's he up to?” Kyle said as he entered the garden, “I thought he said to me he didn't have to do anything to this place but keep the grass down.”

  “I'm not sure,” Sarah replied, “He suddenly said he had something to do and he left me sitting here and went off to cut down some plants.”

  “I was having a day like that,” Kyle replied as he sat down at the patio table, “I felt like I could just get out there and enjoy the sunshine...then I heard Frederick's voice in the old office while I was going through his paperwork.”

  He stopped, drew in a sharp breath and struggled to hold back from weeping as tears sprang to his eyes.

  “He said I was going to die!” he said tearfully, and then he stifled a sob and wiped his eyes with the back of a shaking hand, but as he looked at her more tears came to his eyes.

  “So I will die soon, he said so! I don't want to die, Sarah...”

  She looked down the garden, where Zack was standing by a tall rosemary bush, his back was turned away, and so she quickly put her hand on Kyle's arm and spoke calmly to him, suddenly realising just how fragile he really was. She had known he was jumpy and nervous and understandably afraid of the test results – but he was falling apart in front of her...

  “Frederick's ghost is evil,” she reminded him, “He won't say kind things, Kyle! He said what he thought of you when he spoke through Grace – and Sally was right, he doesn't like you because you're nothing like him. He's an evil bastard. Ghosts like him play on your worst fears. This is what he wanted to achieve – don't let him win!”

  He blinked away tears as worry still clouded his troubled gaze.

  “You're saying he was lying?”

  “Of course he was!” she exclaimed, “He's a bad spirit, that's why Grace said to keep away from his grave. Obviously he finds it easy to reach you, especially if you're somewhere that was closely linked to him in his lifetime. The old office would have been where he ran the estate. It makes sense that he got through to you there. If it happens again push him away, tell him to leave you alone. Don't let him frighten you – that's his power, he knows how to make you fall apart.”

  She patted his hand.

  “Don't cry, Zack will be upset too if he sees you in this state.”

  He looked down the garden, watching as Zack cut down more rosemary and then moved on to a nearby lavender bush, and then he paused to wave a couple of bees out of the way before continuing with his task.

  “He said something else,” Kyle told her quietly, and as he looked to her, again his eyes filled with tears, “He said because Zack used to be Thornton, this means Thornton's back – and Thornton laid down the curse, so I will die because of Thornton. He's trying to make me blame Zack!”

  “Did you tell Sally about this?” she asked.

  He shook his head.

  “If she knew what a mess I've got into over this she would start saying to step back from this. And I don't want to do that, because it was my ancestor's fault and I feel obliged to put that right. Also Zack is a good friend and I don't want to let him down.”

  He drew in a breath, let it out slowly and then quickly wiped his eyes again.

  “We need to tell Zack about what happened,” Sarah reminded him, “We have to tell each other everything – every time something happens, we have to share it, so we know where we stand.”

  “You're right,” Kyle agreed, and now he seemed in control once more, “And now I'm thinking about it, I can see it does make sense that Frederick would play on my fears like that. I mean, it's the easiest thing to say to frighten me.”

  “So don't let it frighten you,” she told him, “The man was a bully in life and he's a bully in death. He can only scare you if you let him get to you.”

  Now Kyle felt stronger.

  “I won't let him get to me again,” he vowed, and then he managed a smile as he said Hi to Zack, who nodded to him and then went into the house clutching an armful of cuttings from the garden.

  Sarah stayed out in the garden chatting with Kyle for some time, wanting to be sure he really was okay after he had been so tearful over the cruel words spoken by Frederick's ghost, and then when she realised there was no sign of Zack returning to join them, she got up from the table.

  “He's been inside for ages!” she said, and then she and Kyle went back into the cottage as Sarah called his name.

  “I'm out here!” Zack called back, and as they left the kitchen and went out into the hallway, he greeted them both with a smile.

  “What do you think?” he asked, gesturing to the ceiling “I felt like putting a traditional witchy touch to the place...and it smells great, don't you think?”

  “It's different,” Kyle agreed.

  Sarah looked up, staring at the bunches of herbs that were hung upside down from the ceiling, lining the hallway on either side above every doorway.

  It was exactly how she had seen the herbs hung back in the days when Thornton had lived here...

  “Zack, why are you doing this?” she asked.

  He looked at her, and in that moment, the look in his eyes seemed a little too intense, certainly more heavy than she would have expected from Zack, but exactly the way she had seen Thornton set his gaze...

  “Are you okay?” she asked him.

  He smiled, and his eyes sparkled, and suddenly she saw no trace of the cunning man of old.

  “Of course I am,” he said, “I just wanted to give the place a bit of the charm it had in my former life.”

  “Well maybe you should forget about that for now,” Sarah told him, “Kyle's had a nasty experience.”

  They sat down together in the front room, and Zack listened silently as Kyle related his tale, and it came as a great relief to Sarah that this time, Kyle didn't break down in tears. He explained it all calmly, and then he added that of course, he would never blame Zack for Thornton's curse. Zack smiled kindly and briefly touched the back of his hand as he looked into the eyes of his friend.

  “I know you don't blame me,” he promised him, “And if I could take back that curse I would. But I can only remember what I'm allowed to see. I don't know what he said or how he did it. But if I ever do find out, I'm going to have a go at reversing it.”

  Sarah looked at him sharply.

  “Witchcraft?” she exclaimed, “No, you can't touch that stuff – not knowing all you do about what happened to Thornton!”

  And then she caught a look of hurt in Kyle's eyes and felt the need to apologise.

  “It's not that I don't want you to get rid of that curse, of course I do - it's just that -”

  “You're scared for him,” Kyle said, “I know, I get that part. I think we're all scared, Sarah. None of this will go away unless we find Thornton's body. And that's going to be difficult, because we don't know where to start looking.”

  “And turning over every cobblestone in this village isn't possible,” Zack added, “Although you could be right about me sensing where my bones are, Sarah. But so far, I haven't felt anything even remotely guiding me towards a particular spot.”

  “You say that so easily these days,” Sarah said to him, “About your bones.”

  “Well they are mine, I used to be Thornton, we know that,” he replied casually.

  And as he spoke again to Kyle about cobblestones and likely locations to search, Sarah stayed quiet, thinking about the look she had seen in his eyes and the herbs he had hung up to dry, and the way he said my bones. It was as if he was trying to embrace all that he used to be in his long ago life time as Thornton, and the more she thought about the medium's warning, the more she worried...

  When nightfall came, Kyle had been gone for hours, having left late in the afternoon to return home, and Sarah had spent the rest of the evening with the scents of rosemary and lavender filling the downstairs hallway and constantly reminding her of her dreams of seeing through the eyes of Lillith, in the days when this had been the cunning man's cottage... The lavender and rosemary made for a heady mix that seemed to
fill the hallway and slip up the stairs, she could even smell the scent of it late at night as she lay alone on her bed with the window open wide to let in cool air that was welcome after the heat of the day.

  On saying goodnight to Zack, their gaze had lingered, and so had the smile they had shared, but then Zack, as polite as ever, had said he was going to sleep with the light on, and wished her good dreams, and then he had gone into his room and closed the door.

  Now Sarah was alone in her bedroom and thinking of Zack and wondering exactly when he would feel ready to take their friendship to the next level. He was a shy man but a great kisser, and one look in his eyes warmed her heart in such a way that she was feeling confident now, sure that to fall in love with him would be no disaster – but still she wanted the matter of the warlock's bones conclude once and for all, because only then did it seem likely that Zack would finally let go of his fascination with his former life, and the fact that his fascination was spilling over into this life was still worrying her... She was still thinking on those things as she fell asleep, but on that night, no dreams cut into her deep and restful slumber.

  Across the hallway, Zack was not so lucky.

  He had spent an hour online looking up the topic of witchcraft, and the more he read, the more he felt like he was revisiting an old familiar place in his mind. There was a pull towards the occult that had him in its enchanting grip and he didn't want to fight it, instead he wanted to embrace the notion, because at the back of his mind, he already knew he would never stop being Thornton Ravencroft - because now he knew too much and recalled too much to be able to forget or deny that lifetime had taken place. He knew it was changing him, and he just hoped that change would be for the better. And then he had shut down the screen and got into bed and closed his eyes, and sleep had come to him quickly, because now he was used to sleeping with the light on.

  But it was dark when he woke up sharply.

  He sat up on a bed covered with a thin sheet, and looked down at the Edwardian suit he was now wearing, he saw the candle burning on the table, he knew at once he was back there, and seeing through Thornton's eyes.

  “No...” he said as he took in a frightened breath, and then as the candle light went out and the man beside the bed lunged at him and slammed a fist into his side, he heard his ribs crack, and he tried to breathe and fight back but the pain was washing over him as he fought for air.

  “You die tonight, Cunning Man!” hissed his attacker, and then he dragged him from his bed, and this time, as he hit the bare boards and cried out in pain, a heavy boot to his already injured side knocked the breath from his lungs, and no light came on, because Sarah was not there to save him...

  He was dragged to his feet, and as his head swam with pain, he knew Thornton was too badly hurt to fight back or try and run. Breathing was difficult and he coughed and tasted blood and spat it to the floor, and the man who had broken his ribs twisted an arm behind his back and forced him towards the bedroom door.

  “Let me go,” Thornton said breathlessly, “Please...I can help you...I'll give you anything you want!”

  “I work for his Lordship,” said the man, “And I will serve no warlock.”

  Then he was forced down the narrow stairway, and as he was shoved out to the downstairs hallway, he saw the door to the cottage was open, and outside were others, waiting. Two of the men carried hammers. Another held a length of rope. And he was sobbing from pain and fear as he was taken out into the cold night air, and then across the lane and into the field that stood behind Brackenby Manor.

  By the time he had been dragged to the middle of the field, the rain had started to fall. He had been struck several times on the way to this place, and now blood ran down his face from an open gash to his brow.

  They let him fall heavily to the ground, and then as he lay there as the rain fell down and thunder rumbled and lightning forked the sky, a carriage made its way through the field, coming to a halt close by. It was then he was dragged over to the carriage, and as the door opened and Lord Frederick Brackenby got out, Thornton could barely see him through the blood that ran down his face, but he saw enough to know that Frederick had a look of victory in his eyes.

  “I warned you to stay away from my daughter, warlock,” he said, “And you insisted on defying me. I shall not punish her, she does not even know I had her followed. Her punishment shall be never seeing you again, and never knowing why.”

  And as the men with the hammers stepped closer, Thornton was tied to the back of the carriage. Zack was seeing it all unfold and wanted to scream for help, but instead he could only wait for the hammer blows to shatter his bones, because he was locked in this nightmare and seeing through Thornton's eyes, and Sarah was still not there to wake him up...

  Chapter 8

  Zack was inside the body of Thornton, unable to speak or cry out as the hammer blows rained down, breaking bones as Thornton screamed. Others stood at the head of the carriage to calm the nervous horses as the screaming and the cries for mercy went unheeded and then faded out. And Zack felt every hammer blow, every bone that cracked and shattered, and when the torture had stopped, the ropes were cut and Thornton slumped to the ground. The rain was falling lightly now as the storm moved off into the distance, and the night sky was slowly brightening with the coming of a dawn that the warlock already knew he would not live to see.

  Zack wondered if Thornton knew his death was being witnessed from the future... Could he have known? Or was this just for him, to see through the eyes of his former self as Thornton was slowly destroyed by the torture he suffered.

  That torture wasn't over yet.

  The men dragged him back through the woodland, and his body, beaten and broken and bleeding, could not move as pain took over his mind and as thoughts of his death came closer with a longing for the pain to end that made death seem almost welcome, Zack was powerless to intervene, seeing through the battered man's eyes and feeling the pain of his broken bones as he was dragged along the ground. He tried to take in a breath and tasted blood again and coughed as broken ribs throbbed in pain. This was the end of Thornton Ravencroft... And despite being stuck there and feeling his agony, Zack knew he had to focus and bear the ordeal, because at the end of it, this nightmare would lead to the grave where he would be buried alive...

  Wet leaves and fallen branches tore at his bloodied clothing as he was dragged onwards, the rain had turned the floor of the forest into sodden mud where the ground was sharp and rough and as his flesh tore and more pain took over his mind, Zack was screaming but the screams that echoed through the woodland were those of Thornton Ravencroft as he coughed blood and and begged for his life to be spared. It was as if knowing the end was near had made him overcome all the pain and the difficulty of breathing and he was determined to use the last of his strength to beg and beg for his life to be spared.

  They had reached the clearing and passed the manor house and were now on the wide dirt track that would one day be the road that ran all the way up to Ravencroft Cottage. He was still being dragged and his broken fingers had turned numb, his legs were also turning numb and his ripped suit was soaked in blood that was starting to congeal and tighten. The cold night air made him feel like his flesh had been ripped away, every nerve in his body still capable of feeling was screaming in agony. And still he was being dragged, leaving a bloody trail behind him as he looked upwards and saw the night sky as it started to lighten as dawn approached and the stars that once burned brightly after the storm had moved off were now fading out, as if slowly dying, one by one.

  Zack recalled the bruising he had suffered the first time around when Sarah had come in and turn on the light, and then he wondered if he survived this ordeal, would she find him in time, and find him on the floor of the bedroom, beaten and bloody? Was he going to wake bearing all of Thornton's injuries? If he did, he wanted to die in her arms, because there was no way he would survive after how they had laid into him with those hammers...

  The dragging st
opped. The men waited. Thornton looked to the road ahead, and saw the carriage belonging to Lord Brackenby approaching. He could not move or turn his head, and lay there barely breathing as his body screamed silently with the agony of shattered bones.

  Then the carriage stopped and the door opened.

  The light rain was still falling, and this time Frederick did not leave his carriage. Instead he looked down at the bloodied body of Thornton and smiled.

  “I shall observe your burial,” he informed him, “And be assured no one shall mourn your passing. There shall be no marked grave, your final resting place will lie beneath the cobblestones of Harpley, unseen, unknown, a shallow grave with no stone to mark it. Life will go on here and others shall walk over your bones every day, and never know the vile secret that lies buried beneath their feet!”

  And he looked down at Thornton and waited, taking in the sight of his fine suit torn and bloody, he saw the broken bones and the cuts to his hands and face, he noticed every detail of what his men had done to destroy the warlock's body, and he waited for him to beg again for his life, or at least, to see him weep.

  But Thornton did neither. Instead he struggled and succeeded to draw in a breath despite his pain, and as he looked to the man responsible for his end, he began to speak:

  “I set a curse upon the family name of Brackenby,” he said, dragging in another sharp breath, “Poison to the blood of every heir to the title of Lord. Poison and death to you and all who follow your lineage...poison to your blood!”

  Then a heavy boot was aimed swiftly and hit his face as his jaw went crack, and more blood came from Thornton's mouth and he coughed and struggled to breathe.

  “Onwards to our destination,” said Frederick to his driver, and then he closed the carriage door and looked down one more time at the dying man on the roadside.

  “I shall witness the burial,” he informed them, then the driver slapped the reins and the horses moved off, leaving the sound of carriage wheels bumping on an uneven road, a sound that carried along the ground and the vibration of it shot pain through Thornton's shattered bones, but then the sound of it echoed and faded out just like the world around him, and Zack wondered if he was dead.