Master of the Scrolls

by Benjamin Ford

  Rachel chuckled. ‘I’m glad I’m not the only sad person who noticed the clean windows!’

  ‘The house is lifeless!’

  Rachel glanced at her husband. ‘What do you mean? Maybe you are sensing exorcised ghosts?’

  Gloria shook her head. ‘No, Dad’s right. It’s–’

  The front door opened, interrupting her words, and Louise flew at them, throwing herself into Gloria’s arms. It was clear from her tear-stained face that she had been crying for some time. ‘Oh Gloria, thank God you’re here. Something awful has happened.’

  ‘What!’ Rachel cried. ‘What has happened?’

  ‘It’s Nana Turner, isn’t it?’ whispered Gloria, her voice constricted in her throat. ‘She’s gone, hasn’t she?’

  Wiping her tears, Louise looked up into her friend’s eyes. ‘Yes. She passed away last night. She went peacefully. I’ve never seen anyone look so content.’

  ‘Her task was done,’ sighed Jeremy. ‘She knew what was coming, and she knew Gloria was going to be safe, so she knew it was all right for her to depart.’

  Everyone turned to him as though he was mad, but then they all suddenly realised he was probably right.

  Phil greeted them in the hallway. He and Gloria regarded one another warily, but both relaxed when it became clear nothing supernatural was going to happen. ‘I’ve called for Doctor Garrett. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I thought someone ought to be called.’

  ‘Thank you Phil,’ said Rachel. She took a deep breath. ‘I’d like to see her.’

  When Phil gently told her that Mary rested within her bedroom, Rachel felt her heart leap into her throat. She had only ever been inside her mother’s bedroom once in her entire life, on the eve of her wedding. Did she really want to see the secrets her mother had kept within her locked hideaway?

  She looked at Gloria. ‘I know you’ll want to see her too, would you like to come with me? I don’t think I can go alone.’

  Gloria nodded. ‘Yes, of course, Mother.’ She linked her arm through Rachel’s and they slowly climbed the stairs.

  Gloria shuddered as they passed the spot where Wilma had died after her tumble down the stairs, and she trembled as they passed the door which led into the library, and like Louise before her, as she looked up to the top landing, suddenly her legs became unwilling to go further.

  Rachel patted her daughter’s hand reassuringly. ‘Come on darling, it’ll be all right!’

  Gloria hesitantly put first one foot on the bottom step, then the other foot on the next step, and slowly counted the eighteen steps up from the first floor landing until they reached the top landing.

  Gloria found herself shivering with unease as she glanced down the long dark corridor towards the corner that hid the spiral stairwell. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then reached out and twisted the handle, pushing open the door to her grandmother’s inner sanctum, not knowing what to expect.

  ‘Have you ever seen the inside of this room, Mother?’ Gloria asked as they walked through the vestibule and stepped into the bright airy room. The curtains were thrown back to let the glorious summer sunshine into the immaculate and spotless room.

  ‘Just once, dear, the day before I married your father. Mother asked me up here, saying she wanted to tell me something. I’m glad she has redecorated; it was dark reds and greens back then. It was oppressive, and I hated it. This is rather pleasant though, this cream and lilac.’

  ‘Yes, it’s so very calming!’

  As they entered the room, they both stopped at the same time as the saw Mary’s body, lying still and peaceful on the chaise-lounge. Clutching tightly on to each other, the two women moved towards the old woman, neither actually willing to believe she was gone; both half expected her to awaken, to sit up, demanding to know what they were doing in her room.

  But Mary did not move.

  Rachel and Gloria stared at her, tears falling gently as they whispered quiet prayers for her, and then they turned to leave and both caught sight of the huge painting, prominently displayed to the right of the door.

  ‘Oh, wow!’ gasped Rachel. ‘I’d forgotten all about that!’

  ‘It’s me!’ gasped Gloria. ‘James, me and–’ She paused, shaking her head. ‘No, that’s not possible.’

  Rachel nodded, sighing sadly. She placed a steadying hand on Gloria’s shoulder. ‘Yes it is, darling. It is Elizabeth!’

  ‘But she… I don’t understand!’

  Rachel took a deep breath. ‘That portrait is of my grandmother when she was a mere five year old girl. It’s my grandmother and her parents.’

  ‘But...’

  ‘It depicts Victoria and James Trevayne, painted sometime around the mid-Eighteen Hundreds. It’s Victoria, James and Elizabeth.’ She kissed her daughter’s cheek tenderly. ‘It’s you, your husband and your daughter!’ she whispered in Gloria’s ear. ‘This is your destiny! This is the real family curse! This is the secret that Mother has known since before she was married. She only told me about it last month. I knew nothing before then, I swear!’

  Gloria walked up to the painting, reaching out to touch it. ‘My destiny,’ she said in a very small voice, ‘is to go back in time to become my great-great-grandmother?’ As she touched the painting, she suddenly recalled that she had realised the truth already, when she had read the letter secreted in the back of Isabella’s manuscript – a manuscript as conspicuous by its absence as the locket.

  ‘Yes darling.’ Rachel wanted to comfort her daughter, but did not know what to say. She was relieved to have the burden lifted from her own shoulders, but it pained her to hear the sadness in her daughter’s voice. ‘I’m so sorry!’

  Gloria turned to face her mother. ‘Not as sorry as I am. I’ve really screwed up, Mother. I’ve ruined everything. I need the locket Nana Turner gave me to travel back to fulfil my destiny, but I’ve lost it. I have no idea what happened to it! I can’t go back without it. I’ve killed us all!’

  Rachel sighed. ‘Everything will work out fine, you’ll see. Come on, let’s leave Mother in peace. We can talk about that later. Everyone here knows pretty much everything that has been happening, to some degree, so there will be no secrets. We’ll put our heads together and come up with something!’

  *

  As Rachel and Gloria descended the stairs to join everyone else, who had apparently adjourned to the drawing room, they noticed the front door was open. It irritated Rachel that none of the others had bothered to close it behind them, and she practically stomped across the hall and was about to slam the door shut when she saw a white car coming up the drive, so she waited to see who it was.

  ‘Doctor Garrett!’ she said as the tall grey haired man climbed out of the car, smoothing down his tweed jacket.

  The old family doctor smiled compassionately at her. ‘Hello Rachel, I’m so sorry to hear about Mary. Bit of a shock, I have to say. Thought the old girl would outlive me!’

  ‘Thanks, Doctor Garrett. I’ll take you up to her room.’

  The doctor placed a reassuring hand on her arm. ‘It’s quite all right, Rachel, I know the way. If you don’t feel up to it...’

  Rachel let out a spontaneous sigh of relief. ‘Thanks. Gloria and I have just been up to say our farewells.’

  She closed the door behind him and watched as he climbed the stairs, and then turned to make her way to the drawing room. As she turned, she caught sight of movement from the door leading to the kitchen, but assuming it was Phil, paid no heed, until when she reached the drawing room she saw he was there with everyone else, speaking in hushed whispers with Gloria.

  ‘Excuse me, can I just ask – who left the front door open?’ she asked.

  ‘Mother, don’t you think that’s a bit pedantic?’

  ‘Perhaps, Gloria, but I think there might be an intruder in the house!’

  Phil, Allan and the two older men immediately stepped forward. ‘What?’ cried Phil. ‘Where?’

  Rachel half turned to the door as she jerked her
thumb behind her. ‘I saw movement in the kitchen doorway, Phil. I thought it was you.’

  ‘You girls stay here!’ said Jeremy, feeling falsely brave. ‘Come on guys, let’s investigate!’

  ‘Don’t be so patronising, Dad!’ snapped Gloria. ‘We’re not five year olds!’

  Chastised, Jeremy let Phil and Allan take the lead as they trooped into the hallway, closely followed by the women, with himself and Daniel bringing up the rear. They practically bumped into those preceding them, and wondered why the others had stopped.

  A man stood at the foot of the stairs, staring at them balefully. None could take their eyes off the shotgun he brandished.

  ‘George!’ Louise screamed at him. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

  ‘I demand retribution. The Witch must die! She must not be allowed to escape again!’ The voice that emanated from George’s lips, most definitely not his, spoke in the same stilted tone as he had been using since he and Louise had become lovers, but whilst George’s voice had still resonated with his warmth, this cold voice enunciated the words with spiteful poise.

  ‘Oh no, not you!’ gasped Gloria inwardly as she recognised the voice. This was getting tedious – could nobody stay dead?

  The figure of George Palmer thundered with laughter. ‘And what say you of such things, James Trevayne? I see you, hiding behind the visage of that young man!’

  Allan took a couple of threatening steps towards him. ‘Why are you here, Sir Henry?’

  ‘Sir Henry?’ gasped Louise, looking at Gloria in confusion. ‘Who’s Sir Henry?’

  ‘I am Sir Henry Fitzwilliam, my dear!’ crowed the man triumphantly. He pointed at Gloria. ‘I arranged the execution of this Witch and her Devil Spawn, yet she escaped! She bewitched my good friend James Trevayne with her sorcery, and as you see, is very much alive within her own body still, near five hundred years after! Who but a witch might achieve such a thing?’

  Allan clenched his fists as James Trevayne spoke through him. ‘I told you then, Sir Henry, she is not a witch! I stand by that!’

  Everyone else watched as the argument played out before them, an argument out of time, out of place, out of context.

  ‘Put down the gun, Sir Henry. You shall no more kill Gloria here than you did back then! I shall be reunited with my wife, make no mistake!’

  Sir Henry sneered sadistically. ‘I had hoped to end the madness by destroying the Witch afore she might return to our time to bewitch you with her powers. I see now that I am too late. You are a dead man, James Trevayne, how fitting that you should wish your wife to reunite with you! That can be most assuredly arranged!’ He pointed the shotgun squarely in Gloria’s direction, but faltered as Louise jumped in front of her friend.

  ‘Listen, I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know why you hate Gloria, but she’s my friend. She is most certainly not a witch! I want you to leave this place! Get out of George’s body and go back to your own time!’

  ‘Wish you a quick death, my dear?’ he snapped, eyes burning with hatred. ‘I shall kill you first, and then have my vengeance upon the Witch!’

  Gloria gently pushed Louise aside. ‘It’s all right,’ she whispered in her friend’s ear, ‘I have faith!’ She glanced at her mother as she uttered those words and Rachel, understanding her meaning, nodded reassuringly. Gloria faced the wrathful spirit of Sir Henry Fitzwilliam. ‘Why do you seek vengeance, Sir Henry? What did I do to you?’

  ‘With your witchcraft you cursed me!’ screamed Sir Henry, pointing at her animatedly, lowering the gun a fraction.

  Gloria saw the doctor slowly creeping down the stairs, and desperately tried to keep the man talking. ‘Cursed you? How?’

  ‘You used your witchcraft to prevent my soul from entering into Heaven! I died a broken man following your execution, and I was denied entry to the Kingdom of the Lord!’

  ‘And why is that my fault?’

  ‘You cursed me!’ the man yelled, purple with apoplexy. ‘You cursed me with your witchcraft. How else would I find myself lingering upon this Earth, unable to move on? I knew that one day, should I meet you again, I might obtain my vengeance and prevent you from existing in my time. I merely had to first find you!’

  ‘It took you long enough, Sir Henry!’

  He smiled at her. ‘I am a patient man, and I have you in my sights at last, Witch! You shall not escape a second time!’

  Behind him, the doctor stepped on a creaky stair, and whirling round, Sir Henry roared with fury as he saw the old man lunging at him.

  They collided with each other and went sprawling.

  The shotgun skidded across the floor, arriving at Allan’s feet. He picked it up slowly, turning it over in his hands as James turned over the situation in his mind.

  Doctor Garrett tussled with Sir Henry, who struggled violently to escape, cursing and muttering beneath his breath.

  Allan pointed the gun at the writhing pair. ‘Step away from him, Sir Henry,’ said James.

  Louise grabbed the barrel of the gun, wrenching it down. ‘No Allan. No, you can’t shoot him!’

  Before anyone could stop her, Louise marched over to the struggling pair, displaying inordinate strength as she grabbed Doctor Garrett and threw him across the floor like a rag doll.

  ‘Louise!’ cried Susan, bending to help the shocked doctor to his feet. ‘What on earth are you doing?’

  Louise stood over the body of George Palmer as he lay upon the floor, not moving to restrain him, merely holding him with an unwavering stare that transfixed him, restraining him within a powerful invisible grip. The voice of a girl reverberated around the hall.

  Thou shalt not kill she who be from future’s past! She be not the reason thou doest wander eternity in search of salvation: thine own guilt has cursed thee, Henry Fitzwilliam!

  Terror filled the eyes of George Palmer, but the fear was not his. ‘Who are you?’

  Everyone in the hall emitted a unified squeal of alarm as an apparition floated up from Louise’s body, hovering above her, gradually coalescing into the ethereal figure of a young woman garbed in white flowing robes with long white hair. Then they blinked, and she looked like a woman so old she was almost a wizened corpse. She was first a ravishing beauty, and then an old hag, replete with wispy white beard.

  ‘Thaumaturgia Anathemas!’ whispered James Trevayne through Allan.

  George Palmer’s features seemed to grow older before their very eyes as he stared up at her, the fear in his face growing more pronounced with each passing second that the apparition fixed him with her unwavering stare.

  ‘What’s going on?’ whispered Rachel. She could not take her eyes off the strange glowing white figure, and felt as though her very life was being sucked from her body.

  ‘You cannot be the Seer! She is a myth! She does not exist!’

  Thaumaturgia Anathemas laughed as her little-girl voice echoed around the room.

  Oh I be real, Henry Fitzwilliam, more real than thee. I break the rules to preserve the flow of time: that be my gift, and also my curse. Thine own curse be to wander through eternity: ponder thine evil ways, find forgiveness from those thou hast wronged during thy life. Thy guilt should have made thee realise the error of thy ways; meeting Gloria and James now should hath gained thy salvation: had thee admitted thy guilt they would hath forgiven thee; the gates of Heaven would open to thee.

  Susan nudged her husband. ‘What’s happening to Louise?’ she whispered. ‘Are you following any of this?’

  Daniel shook his head. ‘Not really. I haven’t a clue what’s going on.’

  Floating above the group, the ghostly figure of the Seer smiled down at Sir Henry.

  Thou hast not earned thy release from thy bonds; they doest bind thee still to this world. Thou shalt linger, till their spirits be reborn, then all shall happen over.

  ‘We are to be reborn in the future?’ gasped Gloria, horrified at the thought of living a lifetime repeatedly until Sir Henry repented: that was akin to punishing James and hersel
f for Sir Henry’s evil deeds.

  James shushed her as the figure of Thaumaturgia slowly started to fade.

  Thou shalt leave this body to continue thine endless travels, until such time as their souls be reborn in the same time and place!

  George emitted a strangled scream and collapsed on the floor, unconscious.

  As she became a mere spectre, dissipating more rapidly, the ghostly apparition of Thaumaturgia Anathemas turned to Gloria

  Be not afeard, Gloria, thou shalt not be reborn again. The spirit of Henry Fitzwilliam be doomed. He shall wander eternity, endlessly awaiting thy return.

  The phantom vanished, with such suddenness that one second it was there and the next it was gone, and silence exploded around the gathered group.

  Louise turned to the others, who looked quite frightened of her. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked. ‘Why are you looking at me like I’m the Evil One?’ She pointed at George. ‘We have to figure a way to free George!’

  Gloria moved to her friend’s side. ‘Don’t you know what just happened?’

  ‘George was speaking in a strange voice. He threatened you.’

  ‘You were Thaumaturgia Anathemas!’ said Allan without looking at her. He still spoke in the voice of James Trevayne, though Louise seemed not to notice. ‘You have freed George from the spirit that controlled him.’

  ‘I was Thaumaturgia? My God, she was inside Mary! She has been making sure events happen as they are supposed to. When Mary died, she must have entered me.’

  Susan leaned heavily on her husband. ‘I feel quite ill,’ she said.

  ‘How many more spirits are going to pop up and take over people?’ demanded Rachel. ‘I don’t think I can take much more of this!’

  James smiled. ‘It shall soon be over.’ He turned to Gloria, holding her hands in his. He looked into her eyes. ‘Yes, it is almost over, but you must first have your wedding.’

  ‘How can I think about marriage at a time like this? Nana Turner’s just died.’

  On the floor behind them, George groaned and slowly sat up. His hair was white and he looked a good deal older than he had mere minutes earlier, but he seemed to be himself as he asked what had happened to him. Louise knelt on the floor beside him, hugging him with relief.