Go Gently

by Nancy M Bell

  Coll came up beside her when the path widened enough to allow it. “At least we don’t have to worry about the tide,” he attempted to console her.

  “I suppose that’s true. I just hate waiting, it feels like the longer it takes the less chance we have of finding them.”

  “If we can get that bloody piskie to stay still long enough, I bet he could take us to them.”

  “Maybe Ash can get him to help us once we figure out how to make the portal work,” Laurel said.

  “C’mon,” he took her hand and pulled her behind him. “We should catch up to the others.”

  The walk back to the car took less time than she expected. Soon she was crammed in the back of the car beside Coll. He grinned at her and put his arm around her shoulder. Laurel squirmed so she fit more snugly against his side. She spared a thought for Chance back in Alberta. She was fond of him, but he just wasn’t Coll. Laurel made mental note to give Carly a call when she got back to the house. The prepaid phone card Mom sent with her would come in handy for transatlantic calls.

  Once they reached Sarie’s they all pitched in to unload the car. After a quick meal, Sarie sent them out to look after the horses while she and Emily replenished the items they had used on the beach at Nanjizal.

  Laurel paused in the middle of brushing Lamorna’s broad black rump. She leaned across the pony’s back and looked at Aisling. “Why do you think the portal worked for Gwin and not for us?”

  “He’s a piskie and we’re mortals,” Ash spoke through the cloud of dust and hair rising from Ebony’s back.

  “I suppose…” Laurel resumed brushing the pony.

  “Stand on your own feet, you git,” Coll grumbled at Arthur. The Fell pony turned his head and nosed the boy who was bent over cleaning out a front hoof. He set the foot down and straightened up bracing his hands on the small of his back. “So how do we get around the being mortals part?”

  “Aren’t there days when it’s supposed to be easier to move from one reality to another?” Gort poked his head up from behind Gareth.

  “You might have something there,” Ash agreed.

  “You mean like on the night of a full moon, like we did at the Men an Tol?” Laurel started brushing again.

  “No. I think he means the quarter days and cross-quarter days of the old calendar.” Aisling narrowed her eyes in thought.

  “What are quarter days? And cross-quarter days, they sound religious or something. You mean crosses like in a church?” Coll frowned.

  “Not at all. Quarter days marked the Solar Festivals of Alban Eiler, the spring or vernal equinox, Alban Huerin, Summer Solstice, Alban Elved, the fall or autumnal equinox, and Alban Arthuran, Winter Solstice. The Cross-Quarter days were Fire Festivals and linked with the agricultural year. February first is Imbolc, Beltaine is celebrated on May first, Lughnasadh is on August first and Samhain is November first,” Aisling explained.

  “It’s almost December twenty-first,” Laurel exclaimed. “Do you think we’d have better luck then?”

  “I think it’s likely, but we should ask Emily and Sarie. They’ll know better than I do.”

  “You said the cross-quarter days were agricultural. What does that mean?” Gort finished grooming Gareth and came and sat on a bale of hay near Aisling.

  “Let me see what I remember…right, then. Imbolc means ewe’s milk and is the time when new lambs are born and the first blades of grass start to show. Beltaine,” she pronounced it Beltanya, “celebrates the start of summer and the end of spring planting. Lughnasadh,” she pronounced it Loo-nasa, “is the celebration of the start of the harvest. It’s named after Lugh Lamfada, a Celtic solar hero or god. Samhain,” she pronounced it, “Sow-hen, marks the beginning of winter and the end of harvest. It was also the start of the old Celtic new year. Does that help?”

  “Sure, clear as mud,” Coll grumbled.

  Laurel grinned when Gort made a face at him.

  “Good to know, I guess. But what I’m interested in is the winter solstice. It’s one of those quarter days, right?” Laurel asked.

  Aisling nodded. “It’s the longest night and the shortest day of the year. There are old legends about the Oak King of summer fighting with the Holly King of winter. It seems backwards to me, ’cause the Oak King starts to come into power on the winter solstice when the sun starts to regain its strength. But that’s the middle of winter and I always think it should be the Holly King who has the upper hand. Except the Holly King gets his chance at power starting at the summer solstice when the sun begins to get weaker and even though it’s high summer, the Holly King of winter begins his reign, stealing a bit of the sun’s strength every night.” She shook her head and went back to brushing Ebony.

  “Doesn’t really make sense to me,” Laurel agreed. “You think we might have better luck on the twenty-first, though?”

  “I do, but let’s ask when we go back in the house.”

  Laurel let the subject drop and finished brushing Lamorna. She threw the New Zealand rug over the pony and secured the straps before leading the mare to the door and letting her go. She stepped aside to free up the door for Aisling and Ebony. Arthur and Gareth were already in the pasture nose deep in the grass. Laurel grinned at the sight. Back home any grass would be dry and brown and most likely buried under two feet of snow. She certainly didn’t miss the Alberta winter.

  Dusk was darkening the sky and softening the edges of the buildings. The warm yellow light spilling from the kitchen windows drew them toward the house. Laurel welcomed the flush of heat that enveloped her when she pushed through the kitchen door from the unheated mud room. Sarie and Emily had spread the table with a cream tea. Her eyes lit up at the sight. It was like a million calories, but she didn’t care. There was nothing like a Cornish cream tea.

  “Cream tea! Just what we need,” Laurel crowed with pleasure.

  “We thought it might make up the disappointment this afternoon,” Emily said.

  “If you’d been successful, it was going to be a celebration,” Sarie added.

  Laurel glanced at Ash.

  “Would it be better to try at Boscawen-un on the twenty-first?” Aisling looked from Emily to Sarie.

  “It’s winter solstice,” Laurel said helpfully.

  “I do know that.” Sarie gave her a wry look and Laurel had the grace to blush.

  “Sorry,” she muttered.

  “All joking aside, it might be just the thing,” Emily said.

  “When’s the best time? Noon hour, or sunset maybe?” Coll asked.

  “What about dawn? Oh wait, that means getting up early,” Gort teased him.

  Coll glowered at him.

  “Actually, according to the old traditions, the new day starts on sundown of what we would consider the day before. So, reckoning that way, the twenty-first starts at sundown on the twentieth,” Emily explained.

  “That’s just weird.” Laurel screwed her face up.

  “What time is the actual moment when the sun reaches its southern most point?” Sarie asked.

  “I’ll look it up, just a second.” Coll brought up the information on his cell phone. “According to this it’s at sixteen-thirty-four UTC on the twenty-first.”

  “What does UTC mean?” Laurel was confused, she’d never heard the term before.

  “Isn’t it the same as Greenwich Mean Time?” Aisling looked at Emily for confirmation.

  “That’s right. But UTC stands for Co-ordinated Universal Time, it’s basically replaced Greenwich Mean Time as the twenty-four hour time standard which is kept by highly precise atomic clocks,” she explained.

  “It should be just about sunset which will make things much easier than if it was in the middle of the night,” Sarie sounded satisfied with the fact.

  “Sixteen-thirty- four is…” Laurel counted off the hours on her fingers, “…four-thirty-four in the afternoon. Almost twenty-five minutes before five.”

  “Let’s plan to be ready at that exact time then,” Sarie said. “We’ll need to
get there beforehand to get things set up and for you lot to prepare yourselves.”

  “Should we go out tomorrow and take a look around. I don’t think I’ve ever been to that circle,” Gort suggested.

  “I’ve never been there. The only stone circle I’ve been to is the Hurlers. I wanted to visit the Merry Maidens last time, but with everything else that happened there was never enough time,” Laurel said. “I think I’d feel more confident about being able to activate the portal if I at least had some idea of how things are situated.”

  “There’s no reason we can’t take a run out there tomorrow,” Emily agreed. “But for now it’s time to get you boys home. I’m knackered and the next few days will be busy ones to say the least.”

  “Off you go, then.” Sarie shepherded Emily and the boys to the door.

  “G’night, see you in the morning,” Laurel called as the door closed.

  Aisling waved before starting to gather up the odds and sods off the table. “It has been a long day.” She smothered a yawn. “I’m glad I’m staying the night here.”

  “How did you get your mum to agree to let you stay?” Laurel paused in wiping down the table and glanced at her friend over her shoulder.

  “Dad said it was only fair since I asked you to come for the holidays and then Mum’s old auntie showed up and took over my room so there’s no bed for either of us. He convinced her there was no way we could expect a guest to sleep on the sofa in the parlour.” She giggled. “I was never so glad to see Great Auntie Astrid in my life. I hate sharing a room with her, she snores, and she farts something awful.”

  “Aisling!” Sarie pretended to be appalled. “That’s no way to speak about your elders.”

  “Sorry, Sarie.” She dipped her head and winked at Laurel.

  “Off to bed with you, now. Up you go and leave the hall light burning. I’ve a few things to do before I come up.”

  Laurel pushed through the door to the hall and held it for Aisling. At the bottom of the stairs she stopped and looked back toward the kitchen. “What do you suppose she’s doing?”

  Aisling shrugged. “Maybe something to do with us getting the portal to work properly, she might be reading the tarot cards or something.”

  “I’d like to sneak back and watch.” Laurel cocked her head and chewed her bottom lip.

  “Curiosity killed the cat, remember,” Aisling said. “If she wanted us to know she wouldn’t have chased us out of the kitchen and besides I’m too tired to care right now.” She started up the steep stairs.

  Laurel hesitated a moment longer and then followed her. She decided she and Ash could talk about their own strategy for activating the portal once they were in bed. By the time she was snuggled under the quilts, the day caught up with her and she fell asleep before she could start a conversation.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The December morning was bright and clear, the sun burning off the last of the fog and mist by the time Laurel and Aisling finished with the horse chores. They met Sarie on the garden path as she emerged from the hen house with a basket of fresh eggs.

  “I’ll hard boil some of these and we can have egg salad sandwiches for tea after we come back from the stones,” Sarie greeted them. “How are the ponies this fine morning?”

  “All good,” Laurel replied. She held the door open for the older woman when they reached the house.

  “Emily and the boys should be here in a bit,” Aisling said. She busied herself laying out plates and juice glasses on the table.

  Laurel finished drying the last plate and placed it on the stack in the cupboard when Emily pulled into the yard. She wiped her hands and hung the towel on the rack to air dry. Aisling beat her to the door. She grabbed her jacket and followed her out into the bright sunlight.

  “You lot ready to go?” Emily asked Laurel, ignoring Gort and Aisling with their heads together a few feet away.

  “Uh huh, Sarie’s just getting a few things and said she’ll be right out.”

  “Are we taking two cars? Can I drive?” Coll stuck his head out the driver’s side window.

  “It might be a good idea.” Sarie emerged from the house with a large basket and some rugs in her arms. “I’m not sure how we’re going to fit all this into the boot and if we put it on the rear seat there won’t be room for all of you.”

  “Laurel can ride with me,” Coll suggested. “You can pile all the extra stuff in the rear.”

  She grinned and went around to the passenger door. “Is it okay with you, Sarie?” Coll leaned over and unsnibbed the door, pushing it open. Laurel stood with one foot in the car waiting for the older woman to answer.

  “Go on with you, then. Just mind you don’t dawdle and keep us waiting.”

  Laurel slid into the seat and closed the door before anyone could change their mind. Coll reached over and squeezed her hand. “I don’t think we’ve hardly been alone since you got here.”

  “I know.” She returned the pressure of his fingers and leaned her head back on the seat, smiling at him.

  “Have you figured out a way to make that portal thing work?” He slid the car into gear and followed Sarie’s car down the lane.

  “I was so beat last night I fell asleep before I could talk to Ash about it.” She shook her head. “We could sure use Gwin Scawen’s help.”

  “Maybe he’ll show up at the stones,” Coll suggested.

  “I hope so.” She lapsed into silence, staring out the window as they skirted Penzance. She closed her eyes as Coll approached the roundabout near Heamoor. “How can you drive through this thing? I’d be stuck on it going in circles forever.”

  Coll shrugged. “You just follow the arrows on the pavement and take the exit you want.”

  Laurel heaved a sigh of relief as the car exited and shot off toward the smaller roundabout where the A30 met the A3071. There was less congestion on this one and Laurel managed to keep her eyes open.

  “Where’s Sarie?” She peered ahead trying to spot the blue car on the winding road.

  “Way ahead of us. I promised Gramma I’d be careful and not drive over the speed limit.”

  “This is you driving slow?”

  He nodded without taking his eyes from the traffic in front of him.

  “Remind me to never ride with you when you’re planning to drive fast,” she muttered.

  “There’s Crows-an-Wra, the layby is just up ahead a bit,” Coll broke the silence.

  Laurel sat up straighter and watched for Sarie’s car on the shoulder ahead. “There it is.” She pointed to the muddy layby that came into view as they rounded a slight curve in the road.

  Coll pulled in behind the other vehicle, squeezing into the small space so nothing protruded onto the motorway. The others were waiting outside Sarie’s car. Laurel joined them, eager to see the stone circle for herself. They went single file between the gate posts with the name carved into them, and followed the path through the brambles and bracken.

  “What does Boscawen-un mean?” She spoke to Sarie who was directly in front of her.

  “House of the Elder Tree.”

  Laurel glanced around as she left the path and came out into a grassy clearing. “There aren’t even any trees here. Just bushes.”

  “There used to be a forest of elder trees surrounding the circle a long, long time ago,” Emily said.

  Laurel followed the muddy track that led through a break in the circle of stones. It brought her to the central stone that was set at what she guessed was close to a forty-five degree angle. Approaching it, she laid a hand on it to steady herself as she peered under the foot of the stone where someone had left offerings of some kind. A jolt of electricity shot through her and she jumped back with a muffled screech.

  “The thing just gave me a shock.” She shook her hand to ease the tingling.

  “It shouldn’t have.” A frown creased Sarie’s face. “I’ve touched it hundreds of times and never had anything happen.”

  “Go ahead and see if this time it’s different
.” Laurel eyed the stone needle suspiciously.

  Sarie went forward and tentatively placed her fingers on the slope of the stone. Nothing unusual happened. “You try,” she said to Emily motioning her forward.

  One by one the others touched the stone but there was no repeat of the shock Laurel received. “You try it again,” Aisling suggested. “Maybe it was just static electricity, you know, like scuffing your feet across a rug.”

  Laurel stepped near the stone, being careful to stand in a different place than the first time. Her fingers no sooner hovered over the granite than a spark arced from it to her hand. “Ow!” She drew her hand back and sucked on her finger to stop the sting. “I guess it just doesn’t like me.”

  “Or maybe it does like you,” Gort said. “You might be the key to making the portal work, Laurel.”

  “But other than it giving me a shock nothing happened. No doorway opened or anything,” Laurel disagreed.

  “Perhaps the timing isn’t right, or we haven’t prepared properly,” Emily said.

  “I’m not crazy about the idea of getting zapped by the stupid rock every time I go near it,” Laurel complained.

  The breeze that up until then had been blowing in from the sea strengthened into a blustery wind and changed direction. Clouds scurried across the blue of the sky playing hide and seek with the sun. “Looks like we might get blow.” Coll tipped his head back and studied the sky.

  “Let’s get to it, then, before it gets any more nippy.” Sarie opened a notebook she pulled from her knapsack. There are nineteen stones situated here, here and here…” She sketched the location of the stones in relation to each other. “The central stone is unusual, most circles don’t have one in the centre.”