I opened my mouth to say something at Corin’s expense and then closed it again; I’d only have to explain. “Something like that,” I muttered. “I thought Jade was your friend anyway?”
She sat down at the table looking depressed. “Oui, so did I.”
“So?”
She looked depressed and I felt bad for not having spent more time with her. I really liked Claudette, she was funny and generous and I enjoyed her company. She had terrible taste in men though.
“Je ne sais pas,” she shrugged. “She’s been acting weird ever since I started going out with Joël. I think she’s jealous.”
I bit my lip and willed myself to keep my mouth shut. Despite my telling her it was the worst idea ever, Claudette was going out with the boy next door. He was cute in a wholesome kind of way. I didn’t trust him an inch. I frowned to myself. Who exactly did I trust?
Before I could sink myself into a gloom as the answer presented itself there was the blare of a car horn outside and Claudette got to her feet. “That will be Jean-Pierre.” She wrapped her scarf back up and pulled her gloves back on. “Please, please make an effort on Friday, Jéhenne ...for me,” she pleaded, her pretty turquoise eyes sparkling with mischief.
I sighed. “OK, OK.”
She clapped her hands together happily and then paused, pointing at me.
“No jeans.”
“Oh but ...”
She shook her head. “Non. A dress. Promise.”
There was a look in her eye that I knew wasn’t going to compromise.
“Fine, a dress.”
“Yay.” She grinned. “She’ll be furious.”
I laughed and opened the door for her. “Remind me never to offend you.”
She winked at me and ran out the door to her brother who was waiting in the car. He waved at me and I watched as they drove away.
I put some water on to boil to make tea and was about to raid the fridge to get up the energy to have a shower when there was an explosion that made my ears ring and the cottage shudder to its foundations. The windows shattered and blew in with a surge of heat that forced the deadly shards towards me like daggers. I threw out my hands and blasted them with fire and a miniature sandstorm whirled around the room for a moment before dropping harmlessly to the floor.
Inés tore out of her herb room, eyes wild. “Jéhenne!” She grabbed my arms. “You’re not hurt?” I shook my head dumbly and we looked outside the front of the house through the space where the kitchen window had been to see plumes of thick black smoke and Inés’ car blazing like an inferno.
Inés began ranting and I just clung onto the worktop, remembering Jean-Pierre’s face smiling at me, as Claudette got in his car just moments earlier. He had been parked right beside her car.
I walked over to Inés and grabbed hold of her giving her a hard shake to punctuate each word. “Give ...” I shook her shoulders. “The fucking book…” She rattled between my hands. “Back!”
Chapter 21
One of the good things about being very remote, and one of the reasons the cottage was where it was, is the fact that people don’t bat an eyelid when cars blow up in your front garden. Of course that means no one phoned the emergency services if you went up with it but you can’t have everything.
Cain had come over and was inspecting the job now that we’d put the fire out.
“Pretty crude,” he said, getting to his feet and wiping dirt and soot off his hands onto his trousers. I was glad I didn’t have to do his washing, then again I had to do mine and that was probably worse. “A human device, no magic, which was why it got through the wards. It must have been placed on the car whilst you were out somewhere, and then triggered remotely.”
“Florian,” Inés said with a savage glint in her eyes. “Oh, I am going to make him pay.”
“Hold up, Inés, if Aradia is behind the potion then she’s obviously pulling his strings in some way. He may be an arse but you can’t blame him. His mother was killed by witchcraft. He’s just picked the wrong witch.” I pulled my coat around me and shivered. I still hadn’t gotten my shower and the icy wind was cutting through me. “Can we go in now?”
Cain nodded and we left the black hulk that had been Inés’ car, smoking gently in the fading daylight as we filed back into the cottage. “You’ll have to ward your car, Jéhenne.”
I nodded at him. “We’ll have to get Inés a new one too.”
“Merde!” Inés shrugged off her coat with angry movements before hanging it up. “I loved that car.”
“Well you shouldn’t have stolen the bloody book then!” I stood by the fire, still clutching my coat around me as my stomach rumbled irritably. It was past lunchtime. “We need to get word to Aradia that Inés is going to give it back so she stops trying to kill us.”
Cain nodded. “I’ll deal with it.” We both looked at Inés who was standing with her arms crossed looking mutinous. She huffed and walked into her herb room, shutting the door rather firmly behind her and leaving me alone with Cain. I shifted uneasily; I hadn’t spoken to him since the row when he’d said I was a spoilt brat. I bit my lip as he filled a pan of water to make coffee; I never had got my tea earlier. “I’m sorry.”
He looked up as he placed the pan on the range cooker and I clutched tighter at my coat for security. “For before I mean, you’re right I ... I hadn’t really thought about it, about what you’ve done, had to do, to be here ...for me. I’m sorry, Cain.”
He didn’t look at me but he put down the pan of water. “I know.”
I walked over and put my arms around him and gave him a hug. I glanced up to see him looking startled and he just stood there, tense and immovable, like a rock. “Sorry,” I muttered, though now I wasn’t sure if I was apologising for the row or for the hug. I let him go, and mentally downgraded Inés. Maybe she wasn’t the least huggable person I knew after all. I walked away and flicked the light on as the room was dark from where we’d boarded up the broken windows.
“Have you found out anything more?” I asked cautiously, not wanting to spark another row.
“Not yet.”
I didn’t push it. I guess I just had to wait until he was ready to tell me. Somehow I doubted it was good news so I figured he could wait as long as he wanted after all; I had quite enough to worry about. “Right, well, I’m going to take a shower.”
“Want some coffee?”
I shook my head. “Tea?” I asked hopefully and he snorted.
“OK, tea.” I went to leave but stopped as he spoke again.
“Jéhenne.”
I swallowed, the look on his face was bordering on sympathetic, and that was bad ...really, really bad.
“Oh God, what is it?”
He held his hand out. “It’s nothing bad ...” Didn’t believe him. “Not really ...” Here we go. “Well, I mean, you might think it’s bad ...” I knew it. “But really, it doesn’t change anything ...”
“For fuck’s sake spit it out!” I yelled, practically jibbering with anxiety.
“You need to get pregnant this weekend.”
I swayed and Cain grabbed me and steered me to one of the arm chairs. “Put your head between your knees.” I did as he asked. “Breathe, Jéhenne.”
“Can’t,” I mumbled. I really couldn’t, my chest was refusing to cooperate; my lungs seemed to be made of concrete and they simply wouldn’t inflate. I mean, I’d been thinking vaguely about getting drunk at the party and maybe getting it over with but ... But knowing I really had to ... Oh shit. Oh shit.
“How d’you know?” Somehow he must have made sense of my muffled voice as he answered.
“I scryed, for you, for the child. I ... I saw you, with him, with Corin and ...” I looked up to see him looking deeply uncomfortable and flushed scarlet as I considered what that might mean. “Time’s running out, that’s all, that’s the message I got. If you want the child ...”
“Oh my God!”
He looked at my face and sighed. “Head between your knees,
Jéhenne.”
After I had recovered enough to stand without passing out, and showered and dressed, Heloïse had arrived. I’d figured they’d all be discussing Aradia and her book and indeed, Cain was at the table reading the huge tome with an expression of intense fascination. Heloïse and Inés were cooing over a Petit Bateau catalogue of baby clothes.
“Oh, mon Dieu, Heloïse, look at that one.”
Heloïse pulled the catalogue towards her and sighed happily. “Trop mignon!”
I felt a wave of fear as the reality of what that meant washed over me and I snatched the catalogue away. I caught a glance of cherubic faces in pastel tones with big dewy eyes and felt something deep inside contract with longing. Stupid, utterly stupid, the child didn’t exist yet. I didn’t even want it yet ... Someday yes but ... Why did I feel this way?
I flung the brochure to the floor, grabbed my coat and yanked the door open. Running outside I headed for the woods, pulling my coat on as I went. The temperature had plummeted and snow threatened from a white sky. Twigs snapped as I rushed on, the crack and rustle of my movements somehow making me feel more at peace. I slowed my pace and the deeper I got into the woodland the calmer I felt.
I walked for maybe an hour, not really sure where I was, not that I much cared. I sat on a fallen tree for a while and listened to the sounds of the woodland around me, the creak of trees and rustle of dead leaves as the wind made them shudder on the almost naked branches. A jay shrieked behind me, setting my nerves skittering, and somewhere far off a fox screamed, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling with the sound. Still, even then it was more relaxing than being indoors, considering the idea that I might be about to purposely get pregnant.
I wondered what Claudette would say when she found out and I felt my cheeks burn with humiliation. I knew what she’d think, no matter what she said. Add to that the fact it was Corin. She’d met him during the summer and had spoken of little else for weeks after. She’d been bitterly disappointed that he hadn’t called as apparently he’d said he would. Of course if he had I’d have been forced to kill him, slowly and painfully. Thankfully he didn’t seem interested in her but if she found out he was the father ... Well, that would likely be someone else who wasn’t speaking to me.
Well it couldn’t be helped, I thought bitterly, he was the father, or would be, and there didn’t seem to be anything I could do about that fact. Claudette would just have to deal with it or ... Or ...
I got to my feet hurriedly and carried on walking, letting my mind be soothed once more as my feet took me where they would. Time seemed to stop, I had no idea how far I’d walked or how to get back but I just kept moving, something pulling me forwards, until I came across a small pond.
At first glance it was just that, a pond, except it didn’t look quite right somehow. The water was too still, the surface too bright, glimmering white against the snow bound sky. I took a cautious step forward and tried to sense if there was magic in the air. I’d had bad experiences with this sort of thing before and this time there would be no Corvus to drag me out and save me. The thought made my throat tighten but I kept moving slowly forwards.
It just looked ...wrong but I couldn’t figure out why, until I looked up and back down, to realise that there was no reflection. The trees around it and the branches that crossed over it were not reflected in the water.
“Brilliant, more weird shit,” I muttered and crept to the edge of the water, if that was actually what it was. It looked thicker, brighter, like a pool of mercury. I crouched at the edge, looking around with every sense on alert ready to run at the slightest sign of danger. Yet, it didn’t feel dangerous.
I looked down into the surface and saw nothing but a swirling mass of white cloud. I kept looking, and the clouds dispersed and I could see myself. Only, it wasn’t a Me that I recognised in any way.
I was standing on a large rock. Around me a Mediterranean sea lapped the edges, a bigger wave occasionally sending a shower of white foam towards me. I didn’t know where it was but it looked idyllic, peaceful, the sky simply dissolving into the sea, just a vast expanse of brilliant blue with no distinction from one to the other. The Me in the vision looked strong, powerful and confident. Her hair was incredibly long, hanging in a lustrous wave, way past her knees, and her eyes were a vivid green, more so even than mine.
She was dressed in a simple white gown and at her feet laid a pack of wolves. Somehow I could easily distinguish the three that had come to me, each of the pack obviously individuals and clearly recognisable to me. Their names chimed in my mind, though when I went to recall them they had vanished.
The vision began to recede and I cried out. I didn’t want it to go and neither, it would seem, did the Me on the other side. She looked around anxiously and the wolves got to their feet looking up at her and moving restlessly. She took something from around her neck, drawing it up and over her head and reached towards me, her arm outstretched. I frowned. She was so far away, surely ... She gestured to me impatiently, looking over her shoulder with worried eyes as the wolves began to fret around her. I leaned forward farther over the water and put my hand into the silvery liquid. It parted and let my hand through and I gasped as I felt her fingers brush mine, cold ...so very cold. I gasped and took what she held and withdrew my hand as fast as I could. The surface closed around my fingertips and I snatched my hand back, grasping what she had given me tight as her voice whispered amidst the trees.
Remember.
I sat, breathing heavily as though I had been running hard, and held my hand up. It trembled, making the necklace swing gently to and fro from a delicate thread of leather, which seemed too flimsy to support the weight of the stone it carried. I had never seen a stone like it, large and smooth in the shape of a teardrop. The colours shifted, flickering through black to blue and vibrant pink before finally settling into a deep, rich gold. It nestled comfortably in the palm of my hand, and felt warm against my skin.
I tried to remember, to see if there was any memory of it, buried deep in my subconscious but there was nothing, though ... Though it did seem somehow familiar. I slipped it over my head and dropped the stone under my jumper, feeling the weight of it nestle between my breasts, at once finding the sensation of warmth and weight new, and yet strangely familiar.
I looked up with a gasp as crows shrieked overhead, a dozen of them settling in the trees, flapping their wings and cawing, their harsh cries echoing through the woods. I got to my feet, wincing as their cries became ever more raucous.
Remember, remember, remember ...
“Can’t you give me a bloody clue?” I yelled back, fists clenched as sparks flickered at my fingertips. Some fell onto the surface of the water and there was a rush of heat and noise as flames leapt into the sky and the crows scattered with a flurry of strong wings and screeching voices.
“No, wait ... Come back!”
The fire burned, fierce and white hot and as I turned to look I saw myself in the flames with Corin. Our naked bodies entwined, his arms holding me so very tight as we moved urgently together, our love making as fierce and heated as the flames that scorched my skin. I froze, at once entranced and terrified that it would be so terribly passionate as the vision of me threw back her head and cried out his name, clinging to him desperately, her ecstasy echoing as had the cries of the birds.
I stepped away, shaking, heart beating too fast, the pendant burning against my skin as the flames began to die, taking the vision with it. The silvery liquid was visible once more, swirling like a whirlpool, sucking in everything around it. The pull of it dragged me closer and closer. I screamed and stumbled before turning my back and running as far away as I could possibly get.
Chapter 22
I sat on my bed with the pendant in my hand. I couldn’t remember it, couldn’t remember a damned thing past my own life and the few visions I’d already been granted, some of which I wished I could forget. The image of me with Corin burned behind my eyelids, and I couldn’t deny the way my
blood thrummed in my veins or the breathless feeling I was left with when I thought about it. The acceptance of that feeling was followed swiftly by an overwhelming guilt that trapped the air in my lungs and made me feel sick.
The pendant appeared to respond to these emotions though; when I thought of Corin it glowed red and deep orange, like there was a fire blazing within it, and the guilt that followed was a fathomless, dark blue sea with deep green waves that twisted before my eyes. I shoved it back under my jumper with a curse. I didn’t know what I was supposed to take from it, why had I thought it significant enough to risk passing through the worlds- and it had been a risk. I had been staggered to see myself that way, could never have conceived of the power that woman held, and she had been so powerful. Yet she was still fearful, aware of a greater threat that loomed behind her.
What the hell did it mean?
“Jéhenne?” I heard Inés calling me down for dinner but I called back, telling her I didn’t want anything; I couldn’t eat. Instead I went to bed, hoping that sleep would let me escape for a few blessed hours but it didn't take long for dreams to find me.
I sat on a rock beside a river. It had been raining and the air was damp and cold, the river rushing past at my feet, sweeping sticks and leaves and anything it could catch hold of along its journey to the sea. I picked up an oak leaf, dead and brown. It rustled under my fingers as I dropped it into the water and watched the river snatch it and take it away. I shivered. I felt as random and fleeting as that leaf, swept towards some unseen destiny.
Corvus had been my anchor, the one constant in my life, in all of my lives, and he had cut me adrift. I was cold, so very cold and lost without him. "I'm sorry. So very sorry," I whispered to the river.
The Heart of Arima. Page 17