The man dressed as the devil came behind the table, with the chief hoodie at his side, and the others knelt before it. The chief hoodie filled the goblet, then the man raised it, in a horrible parody of Mass. The words echoed the ones I was accustomed to hear each Sunday. It was blasphemy, with the crowning moment being when the man dressed as a devil took the dagger and made a slash across his palm, then let the blood drip into the wine. The cup was passed ceremoniously around them.
There was still no sign of lights below in Scalloway, no sound of sirens. I turned my face to Anders, leant towards him till my mouth was at his ear. ‘This could be our best chance,’ I breathed. ‘You draw them off, I’ll free the prisoner.’
He thought about it, and nodded, eyes on that curved knife. ‘I will go over there.’ His hand pointed across the hill. ‘Get as close as you can. I’ll make a noise, as if you have fallen.’ His breath was warm on my face. ‘If too many of them stay there, do not take any risks. Look, there are cars moving down in the village now.’
Two cars, three, but there were no blue lights. Gavin wanted to catch his murderer, not scare him off. Anders’ hand gripped mine, warm and strong. ‘Good luck.’
He began creeping across the hill, from shadow to shadow. I slipped along behind the dyke until the fire was between me and the coven. There was a wire fence right beside the dyke, to keep it sheep-proof. I set my foot on the wire and let it take my weight, then swung over. The knot of people were still at their blasphemous table, passing their cup around. Then I heard a scrabble two hundred yards away, a slithering of feet, a smothered cry of pain. Nice acting, Anders. The heads around the table turned. ‘That’s her,’ Dog-Collar snapped, ‘over there.’
In the moonlight, a dark shadow moved, limping away, desperate fear in every step. The witches gave an inhuman howl, and poured like a dark stream towards him. The man dressed as the devil remained at the table, watching, head turned to the chase. The tail moved as if it was searching for me, a nasty, sinister piece of trickery. I had this awful feeling that it was like an antenna, searching for me … Shaela had said. But the red eyes were turned towards the hill, away from me. I slid up to the prisoner, flattening myself behind the post. ‘Quiet,’ I breathed, and snicked open my little knife. This close, I could feel it was a woman, taller than me. I slid an arm around to her front, blade poised, feeling my way down her arm, her wrists, to the twine. ‘Hold still.’ One slash freed the bound hands. I dropped the knife back in my pocket, and began to work on the knotted rope. A reef-knot, glory be.
The man dressed as the devil must have sensed me, for his head turned. He gave a shout then came hobbling towards us, short steps that still carried him over the ground faster than I liked. My fingers pulled the last piece of rope through and let it fall. ‘Run!’ I said.
She didn’t hesitate. Quicker than thought, she was pelting over the silver-washed grass towards the dyke that ran downhill to Scalloway. I threw the rope in the devil’s face, and ran in the other direction, towards the burn. Divide and conquer. Then the night split open with the sound of engines, a glory of light, as one of those Landrovers with flashlamps on top came bumping over the hill, spilling out dark figures. Help had arrived.
I turned and ran back towards the shouting, towards the burn, where the running woman had gone. I couldn’t see her, in the deep shadow cast by the burn gulley, but she couldn’t be more than twenty metres ahead of me. ‘Wait!’ I called. ‘It’s Cass.’
There was a long pause, then a noise behind me. I spun round as the dark figure came up out of the ditch, and tensed, ready to run or scream.
‘I kent it was you,’ she said. It was Rachel’s voice. ‘Thanks for freeing me. I saw you get away, and thought you’d call the police, but I was faered it would be ower late for yon craetur wi’ his knife.’
‘I was faered too,’ I admitted.
Her eyes glinted in the firelight. ‘Wha’ was yon, wi’ the mask?’
I shook my head. ‘I couldna see.’
She drew a shuddering breath. ‘I’m sorry I didna stop them catching you. I kent what they were going to do, but I couldna shout out to warn you. That fause face, and there was a handkie in me mouth. I struggled wi’ them, but it just looked as if I’d been drinking.’ She clasped her arms round her body. ‘I’m that cold.’
Away from the smoke, I could smell the frost in the air now, and see the first glitter on the heather.
‘Let’s leave the police to mop this lot up, and get you into the warm,’ I said.
She looked up at the hill. The scatter of people had gathered into one knot now, with the witches in the middle. I could see the swirl of Gavin’s kilt in the moonlight, and the glint of the pin that held it. His head was up, and he was looking round the group, speaking slowly, as if he was reading their rights. ‘I assume you phoned them.’ Now she sounded like the college lecturer again, in command, with a touch of wry amusement. ‘You’re brawly resourceful.’
‘I’m just a sailor with a knife in her pocket,’ I said. I jerked my chin over at the bonfire. ‘I need to tell the police we’re safe. Once I’m done that, there’s a guy who makes the most incredible hot chocolate down at the marina.’
‘Sounds good.’
We made our way back over the silver-washed hill to the group of police. Gavin turned as we approached. The moonlight highlighted his cheekbones, shadowed his eyes. ‘Thanks for the cavalry,’ I said.
‘You’re unharmed?’ It sounded like he was preparing a charge sheet.
‘A good number of bruises,’ I conceded, ‘from being marched up that hill with my arms tied and part blindfolded by the mask. You should be able to do them for breach of the peace, at least.’ I gestured. ‘Rachel was my fellow-prisoner. Can I take her down to Khalida to warm up?’
He nodded. ‘I’ll join you as soon as I’ve dealt with these.’ He looked over at the huddle of witches, surrounded by burly police officers. ‘It may take some time.’ He added, so casually that it sounded like an accusation, ‘I explained that Anders was with you.’
‘I wasn’t playing detective,’ I said. ‘They kidnapped me. He saw, and followed. Then, when I freed myself –’
His mouth curved in the moonlight. ‘You’re a most discouraging heroine. Don’t you ever need to be rescued?’
‘You should be grateful,’ I retorted. ‘There’s a dirty great carving knife on that table, and it looked most horridly as if they were planning to use it on Rachel and me.’ I looked over at the prisoners. There were the four witches, with an officer beside each, and the moon glinting on Anders’ blond head – ‘The devil? Didn’t you catch him?’
Gavin’s head jerked up. ‘The coven leader? Was he here too?’
‘A man in a devil suit.’ My breath caught in my throat. ‘Did he get away?’
Gavin spun on his heel, and strode over to the police officers. ‘There’s one more. Spread out. He’s in a devil suit. He could have ditched it. Stop anyone on the hill.’
Within seconds, the hill was criss-crossed with torch beams, in the best X-files tradition. Beside me, Rachel was shivering. I looked over to Anders. ‘I think we should get Rachel home.’ Gavin knew where to find me. Where would she go but her boat? I didn’t like the idea of the devil being loose.
Anders pulled off his jacket and put it around Rachel’s shoulders. ‘You are unharmed?’
Her voice was shaky, but determined. ‘I’ll have a touch o’ the spaigie come the morning.’
‘We’ll head for Khalida,’ I said. My home, my refuge. ‘We’ve both had a shock. D’you suppose Reidar would make us a pot of his hot chocolate?’
‘He’s waiting for us, with the heater on,’ Anders said. ‘I phoned him, as soon as I saw you heading down.’
‘Bliss,’ I said, and led the way towards the burn. Our feet slipped and stumbled in the dark hollow. Above us, the lights crossed and re-crossed the hill, but there were no shouts to tell us that the devil was found at last. I bit my lip. I can put my hand on her any time I choose
–
We reached the road at last. There were lights on in Reidar’s motorboat, and I could have sworn I smelled the drifting odour of baking biscuits. The man was treasure-trove.
He was on deck as soon as he heard the clang of the marina gate. ‘Come in,’ he boomed. ‘All is ready for you.’ He gave me an expansive hug. His jumper smelt of food, and warmth, and comfort. ‘When you disappeared behind those sheds, and did not appear again at the corner by the memorial, I began to imagine all sorts of horrible things. I thought it must be an ambush, and then Anders phoned, and the man you were to meet turned up too.’
‘James Leask – he came?’
Reidar nodded. ‘Five, seven minutes before seven. He waited, then left. Now, he has just arrived here, looking for you. He is below.’ One large hand gestured at the motorboat’s cabin.
So it hadn’t been James Leask who’d set up the ambush. Someone had overheard. All they’d had to do was wait for me to leave Khalida. From their point of view it was safe enough, even with Rachel captive in the middle of them. Nobody was going to notice a group of guizers hanging around on Hallowe’en night. I gestured Rachel into the cabin before me, and followed her down.
It was blissfully warm inside, and smelling of cinnamon. James was sitting in the corner behind the table, his face anxious and relieved at once. He half-rose as we came in. His eyes stopped on Rachel’s face, then his cheeks began to burn scarlet. He gestured Rachel past him, into the corner. ‘I can’t stay. I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I felt it was my fault, leading you into an ambush.’
‘That occurred to me too,’ I said. ‘If thoughts have any power, your ears should have been burning around ten to seven.’
‘Sit down,’ Reidar said, behind me. He brought out a plate of biscuits, golden and crumbly at the edges, crowned with curls of steam, and put it in the middle of the table. ‘Eat.’ I sat down. Cat slid out from under the shelf and onto my lap. Reidar set out mugs, and poured the frothing chocolate into each, then topped them with cream, sprinkled cinnamon on top, and added two curls of orange peel to each. ‘There. No talking until it is all gone, or I will be insulted.’
I wasn’t going to insult anyone who could produce food like this. I launched in, and after a moment’s hesitation James sat down beside me. There was an odd irresolution about his movements, as if he wanted to go, yet felt he should stay until – until what? Until he’d told me what he’d asked me to meet him for?
The biscuits tasted as good as they smelt, with a rich buttery texture like the best shortbread. One day, I promised myself, I’d buy an oven for Khalida. The drinking chocolate was piping hot through the cold cream. Reidar was a genius, and if he wanted to stand for Prime Minister of Denmark, I’d vote for him. I scooped a fingerful of cream and let Cat lick it. Two sets of tiny claws squirmed onto my lap, followed by two more, and a tail: Rat, wanting a share too.
‘So,’ Reidar said, once the plate was empty, ‘tell me what happened.’
I made a ‘you first’ gesture to Rachel. She shook her head, and gave John an uneasy look. ‘Cass first.’
It was quickly told. Reidar made a popping sound when I described the devil. ‘You see, Scottish witches.’
‘It was horrid,’ Rachel agreed. ‘They caught me the same way they caught you, Cass. I went out for milk, and I saw this group of guizers at the foot of the lane, then they surrounded me. Then they came for you, and I couldn’t shout or warn you. And then that horrid devil –’
‘Costume,’ I said vehemently. ‘Cloven-hoof shoes, padded shoulders, LED eyes.’
Rachel shuddered.
‘They didn’t expect him,’ Anders said. We stared at him. ‘The witches,’ he said. ‘Taking you was their own idea. They didn’t expect him to come. I saw their faces when he appeared. They were shocked.’
I re-ran the scene in my mind. ‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘They had their stuff ready for their own ceremony, and he just appeared among them. The thin horn noise – they all froze, and looked at each other, as if they didn’t believe it.’
‘They were afraid of him.’ Rachel said.
I remembered chief hoodie’s bobbed curtsey, the trembling in her voice. ‘But they knew him. He’d come before. The coven ritual with the Maiden, all that, they’d done it before.’
‘If he was really the Devil,’ Reidar said, ‘then I would be afraid too.’
‘He wasn’t the Devil,’ I insisted. ‘He was a person in fancy dress. Smoke and mirrors.’
‘It is what they believe that matters,’ Reidar said, ‘and they believed he was the Devil.’
‘If they believed in him, why didn’t they expect him?’ I argued.
James pushed his mug into the centre of the table, and rose. ‘I’d need to go. Rachel, I’m going your way. Would you like to walk wi’ me? You’ll no want to go on your own, after this night’s experience.’
‘That’s fine o’ you,’ she said. She smiled at Reidar. ‘That was wonderful. Thanks to you.’
James waved her up the stairs to the cockpit, and leant over me to pick up his jacket. His voice breathed in my ear: ‘Don’t trust her. Rachel. I saw Lawrence that night.’ He pulled the jacket on. ‘Thanks to you, Reidar. That’s set me up now.’ His blue eyes fixed me earnestly. ‘Don’t trust her!’ he mouthed, then turned to go up the steps. ‘See you later.’
‘Phone me,’ I said.
He nodded, and closed the washboards behind him. Reidar, Anders, and I looked round at each other. ‘Don’t trust Rachel?’ I said. ‘But she was a prisoner too – ‘
‘Are you sure?’ Anders asked.
I stared at him.
‘I did not see the prisoner’s face,’ he said. ‘Not to recognise. At first, there was the mask on, and then when the devil threw it away, the fire flared up, and the light was in my eyes. I could not say for sure that it was Rachel.’
‘You think she was one of the witches?’
He shook his head. ‘The police caught the witches. I saw them – they were pursuing me, remember. They caught them all.’
‘Wait,’ I said. It was falling together in my head. ‘They didn’t expect the devil, because they thought they knew who it was. The person who played the devil, the witches thought they knew. They thought it was Nate.’
‘Nate is the young man who died,’ Reidar said.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Yes. That explains why they were shocked – because they were shocked, when the devil appeared. They thought their devil was Nate. They were having their own ceremony, maybe even like a memorial. That explains why they took me. They blamed me for Nate’s death. The other day, they cornered me, and told me to keep away from him. They thought I was a witch too, but a different sort from them. They were out for revenge.’
‘Except that they had it wrong,’ Anders said. ‘Because Nate wasn’t the devil.’
‘Maybe he had been, earlier,’ I said. ‘But not tonight.’
Rachel had come from the wrong direction. The prisoner I’d freed had run towards the burn, run with the devil at her heels.
When the witches had run in Anders’ direction, the devil had stayed behind. It would take less than a minute to kick off cloven-hooved overshoes, pull off tailed trousers and a mask with LED eyes. If the devil had been wearing normal clothes under the costume, then he – or she – could just mingle with the rest of us. She could thrust her disguise into the shadow of a rock, then come out at my call, diminished, ordinary, pretending she’d been the prisoner I’d freed.
Perhaps Nate had been the devil earlier, but for tonight, I’d bet any money that the black figure with the red eyes and brandished whip had been Rachel.
Tuesday 1st November, All Saints Day
Low Water Scalloway 03:51 GMT 0.6m
High Water 10:11 1.7 m
Low Water 16:14 0.6m
High Water 22:31 1.6m
Moon waning gibbous
Sunrise 07:30
Moonset 10:26, 315 degrees
Sunset 16:06
Moonrise 17:1
4, 45 degrees
at faat (n):at fault, guilty
Chapter Nineteen
It had been a cold dawn. The windows were laced with frost when I awoke, and the wooden floor was icy under my bare feet. My breath smoked in the air as I grabbed for my jumper and jeans to go out and switch the gas on. Khalida’s fibreglass curves were furred with white, and the pool of water on her stern was glazed with ice. My fingers were numbed before I’d done more than raise the hatch, pump the bilge, and turn the gas switch.
Now, at nine o’clock, a dazzle of sunlight poured in through the port window and slanted onto the gold wood of the fiddle above my head. The sky was clear and blue, milky at the edges, the near hills the pale gold of long grass, the far hills dusted with morning light. The sea was blue as summer, dancing ripples that sparkled with light. Through the starboard window, I could see the silver-pale moon descending on her arc towards the west hill, her leading edge dissolving into the blue sky.
Anders and Reidar had insisted in chorus that, for my own safety, either I slept aboard Reidar’s motorboat, or Anders returned to his forepeak berth in Khalida. I settled for Anders aboard, as the lesser of two evils. Rat had come with him, of course, and he and Cat had slept on the middle berth, a curl of black, white and grey fur. My neck had been cold without my little companion snuggled up to me. Now Anders was looking at home in his old corner, hair gleaming gilt against the mahogony bulkhead, a cup of coffee in his tanned hand, his navy shirt open at the throat, when there were steps on the pontoon, a knock on the cabin roof, and Gavin’s voice calling, ‘May we come aboard?’
A Handful of Ash Page 24