The Queen of sinister da-2

by Marc Chadbourn

  'We'll have to agree to differ there.' Mahalia suddenly jumped to her feet, pulling out a knife from under her coat.

  Caitlin whirled to see a figure coming towards them out of the glare of the sun. It was a man, but not Crowther.

  'Don't come any nearer,' Mahalia said.

  He held up his hands, then moved slightly so that the sun was behind a tree and they could all see him. He was in his early thirties, good looking with blond hair and blue eyes that reminded Caitlin slightly of Leonardo DiCaprio; a sensitivity was embedded in his features that made her instantly warm to him.

  'I didn't mean to scare you…' he began.

  'You don't scare us,' Mahalia said. 'We just don't like you.'

  'You're going to try to cross over, aren't you?' He fixed his attention on Caitlin.

  Mahalia shifted suspiciously, looking to Caitlin for a lead.

  'You don't have to answer — I can see it in your faces.' He lowered his hands slowly. 'I want to come with you.'

  'Who are you?' Caitlin asked. 'And how do you know what we're doing here?'

  'Matthew Jensen. Matt. Architect by trade. I know what you're all thinking — "Let's get him on board — that's a skill we really need." But it could be worse. I could be an estate agent. How do I know what you're doing here? You mean, how do I know all about crossing over, and that there is actually somewhere to cross over to? Well, long story.'

  Carlton watched him curiously but openly, then motioned towards the fire.

  'Carlton wants to know some more,' Mahalia translated. 'Me, I think, why would we need you tagging along? But I'm reasonable… I'll give you a chance to convince us. You've got five minutes.'

  'Five minutes? I can give you my life story in half that.' He headed for the fire and sat down.

  Caitlin had already warmed to his self-deprecating manner, but she couldn't see any advantage in him joining their motley crew. If she hadn't been so unstable at the time, she probably wouldn't have been eager to encourage Mahalia and Carlton to go along with them. 'So how do you know what we're planning?' she asked, sitting next to him. The question came to her in the screeching tones of Brigid, who seemed to have taken an interest in Matt.

  'Simple. You wouldn't be here for any other reason,' Matt replied. 'The countryside's too dangerous to be wandering around alone. If you had any sense you'd be holed up with your community. And this place… all these kinds of places… the stories that build up around them keep everybody away. It's not exactly a top holiday destination.' He motioned to the haunting stones. 'During the Fall, I met someone who told me that all these ancient sites were doorways to the place where the gods came from. You know about them, right? You heard the stories… what happened to London? So, the nutter alarm went off. You smile and nod and shuffle away. But then I saw the lights over the stones at the solstices, the shapes passing through — not human, you know? — heard the music — God, the music!' He gave a faintly embarrassed smile. 'Sorry. You had to have heard it for yourself to understand, I guess.'

  'So why would we want to go to that place?' Mahalia asked. Caitlin could see that she wasn't warming to Matt. 'And what makes you think we know how to?'

  'I don't know if you do, but I do know a lot of people would like to find a way through to that place, for a whole load of different reasons. My reason? Simple.' He looked openly into all their faces, laying himself bare before them. 'I think my daughter's over there.'

  A bird cry, low and mournful, made them all jump; Caitlin realised she had been hanging on his words. 'You think your daughter crossed over?'

  'I think they took her… something did.' He took a deep, calming breath. 'It seems to me that place and the things that live there are responsible for all our old stories and legends. We've been misidentifying them for thousands of years — angels and devils, fairies, UFOs — I don't know, Men in Black. And you know the old stories about changelings? How the fairies would take human babies? Do you know how many people go missing every year? Tens of thousands in Britain alone. Every year. And I reckon some of them end up over there… for whatever reason.' He looked away from them into the trees, but he couldn't hide his concern.

  'How old's your daughter?' Caitlin asked.

  'Eight. At least, she would be now. She's been gone nine months. Somebody from the village saw her up here just before she disappeared, even though she knew she was supposed to keep well away from this place. I've searched everywhere — every ditch, wood, lake…' He shook his head. 'This is my last chance.'

  'I'm so sorry,' Caitlin said. 'I know what it's like…' She caught herself. 'Is your wife coping OK?'

  'She left a long time ago, when Rosetta was two. I haven't seen her since.' He reached out his arms towards them. 'If you know a way over, take me with you. Please. The way I see it, there's safety in numbers. I'm fit. I can look after myself.'

  'So can we,' Mahalia said.

  'I'm sure you can, but one extra person to keep watch at night can only be a good thing, surely.'

  Caitlin didn't have to think; how could she refuse him? 'Of course you can come,' she said, 'if we can get over. I'm still not convinced.'

  He smiled. 'Thanks for trusting me.' Mahalia clearly didn't want to hang around the adults any more than she had to, so Caitlin and Matt went for a walk through the waist-high grass of the adjoining field. They felt safer out in the open away from the clustering trees where there always seemed to be something lurking, just out of sight.

  Though she knew little about him, Caitlin felt a connection between them. He had a sharp wit, but she could sense something much more troubling just beneath the surface. She wanted to find out more about him, but he was the one who asked the first questions as they walked.

  'Are you OK?' he asked. 'Because there's something… I don't know… sad about you. Or is that just me being my usual imperceptive self?'

  The familiar swell of grief hit her so hard that she almost gasped. The usual response was to damp it down into that area where Brigid, Briony and Amy could wrap the harrowing pain in cotton wool until it felt as if it was just a dream, and everything that caused it had never happened. Yet this time was different. After a brief, choking hesitation, she began fitfully to tell Matt all about Grant and Liam. She couldn't hold back the tears and Matt didn't appear to mind, so she let them flow. The racking sobs made her chest feel as if she'd crawled out from under a landslide.

  Matt waited for them to subside and then said, 'I'm sorry. I feel like such a fool talking about my problems when you've been through all that-'

  'No!' Caitlin said, horrified. 'Don't ever say that! All my life's in the past now. You've got a chance to save Rosetta, that's the important thing.'

  'There isn't a thing I can say that won't sound like daytime TV advice, but don't talk about your life being in the past-'

  'Well, it is.' They reached the jumble of stones that Crowther had called the Whispering Knights. Iron railings protected them from prying fingers, but Caitlin desperately wanted to touch their cool surface. When I started out on the road to this place, I was in a terrible state… didn't really know what I was doing. When I finally came to my senses and the professor told me what he planned… well, if I was a sane, rational woman with everything to live for, I would have walked away there and then. I can still barely believe that this mythical Otherworld really exists, but the professor is convinced. If it doesn't, we've got nothing to lose. But if it does, we're going to a place filled with dreams and nightmares… a place where humans aren't supposed to exist. How long do you think we might possibly last there?'

  'But we've got to try, haven't we?'

  Caitlin reached across the railings and just managed to touch one of the stones; her fingers tingled in response. 'Yes, you've got to try for your daughter, and if there's a chance of finding a cure for the plague, as Professor Crowther seems to think there is, then I've got to try, because, you know, better me…'

  'I wish you wouldn't be so fatalistic. It might be catching.' He stared across the sweep
of the field to the trees hiding the Rollrights. 'I'm keen to meet this professor. He seems to know a lot of stuff. What is he, like Doctor Who or something?'

  Caitlin laughed at the idea. 'Just wait till you meet him.'

  'You trust him?' 'He seems OK. I don't think he tells the whole truth. He doesn't lie, exactly, it's just that he doesn't give you the whole picture.' Caitlin realised that Matt was staring intently back towards the standing stones. 'What is it?'

  'I don't know. Probably nothing. I thought I saw something…' He gave her a tight smile. 'Look, you wait here. I'll check it out and then come back for you.'

  Before Caitlin could protest, he was loping away through the grass. She waited for an uncomfortable moment, but there was an eerie atmosphere now that she was standing all alone in the wide open space and she decided to set off after Matt.

  She'd only gone a few paces when there was a crack of thunder, though the sky was clear blue. A smell of burned iron rose up around her and she had the sense of a sudden, crackling light at her back. She spun round to see the Whispering Knights shimmering as if she were looking at them through a heat haze.

  And then a figure emerged from behind them and rapidly began to move towards her. Her first, shocked impression was that it was some black-skinned monster with the head of a pig. Her second notion gave her a true picture: it was a knight in gleaming black armour, a sword hanging from his belt, but his helmet was in the shape of a boar's head.

  'Get away!' Briony screamed from Caitlin's mouth as the knight marched implacably towards her. She turned and she ran, trying not to stumble over the uneven ground, and she knew that this was what she had seen from her window on the evening Grant and Liam had contracted the plague. It had followed her from there to here, and even in the Ice-Field that thought filled her with a powerful dread.

  'What is it?' Matt had run back and caught her shoulders; she fell into his arms.

  'He's coming!' Briony screamed. Matt peered over her shoulder, then slowly turned her round. The field behind was empty, save for the Whispering Knights keeping their lonely vigil. Back at the campfire, Matt managed to comprehend Caitlin's mental state with the aid of Mahalia's less than sympathetic descriptions. As she calmed, Briony receded and Caitlin returned. She was happy to see that Matt still treated her in the same friendly manner.

  'I did see somebody,' Caitlin said.

  Mahalia twirled a finger at the side of her head before winking at Carlton. But the boy didn't join in; his dark eyes suggested only the deepest sympathy. Caitlin smiled at him and nodded her thanks.

  'Who the hell is this!' They all jumped as Crowther marched up, roaring as he jabbed a furious finger at Matt. 'Good Lord, don't you stupid people understand what we're about! Why don't you summon up every thug and bandit in the area-'

  'I'm not a bandit,' Matt said, standing up and extending a hand. 'I prefer the term desperado. I've always had a cowboy thing going on.'

  'Ahhhhh!' Crowther roared, throwing his arms into the air as if he were going to attack Matt. 'Get out, damn you!'

  Caitlin jumped up to throw herself between Matt and Crowther. 'Professor, just a minute, I asked him to stay-'

  'Is that supposed to calm me down? Someone with a tenuous grip on her own mental health finds a kindred spirit? I should beat you all to death with my staff now and be done with it!'

  It took Caitlin a good twenty minutes to convince Crowther. He raged about waifs and strays and hangers- on compromising their security, and in the end Caitlin had to call on the services of a shrieking, neurotic Briony. Only then did Crowther back down, unable to cope with her psychosis.

  Realising he was powerless to change anything, Crowther retired to the other side of the stones to brood, while Mahalia climbed on to the roof of the hut to throw stones at the wildlife. Carlton sat with Caitlin and Matt, listening to their conversation and smiling easily. Matt was surprised to hear Caitlin's stories of the intensity of the plague — he'd heard a couple of rumours in the local village but had seen nothing. That gave Caitlin some hope that its spread wasn't as fast as she'd feared. It was Mahalia who spotted the professor sneaking off, from her vantage point on top of the hut. She dropped down and encouraged the others to follow him, but somehow he gave them all the slip. Half an hour later, his anguished cry rang across the valley. Their blood chilled, fearing the worst, Matt led Caitlin into the field, but they found the professor staggering towards them, looking haggard. Blood trickled down either side of his face.

  'What happened?' Caitlin said. She reached out to examine his wounds, but Crowther knocked her hand away. Yet the action shifted his hair and she saw, or thought she saw, a hole drilled into the side of his head. 'Who did that to you?' she asked, concerned.

  'Nobody did it to me,' he snapped. 'I've been finding out the information we need — someone has to.' He barged past them, but despite his demeanour they both saw his hands were shaking uncontrollably.

  Back at the camp, he sat next to the fire to warm himself, though it wasn't particularly cold. 'I know how to cross over,' he said in a thin voice. 'I had an idea before, but now I know it all.' He jabbed a finger towards Caitlin. 'You're the key.'

  'Me? But why me?'

  'I presumed you were,' Crowther continued as if she hadn't spoken. 'And I know where we have to go for the cure once we get to wherever it is we're going. Somewhere called the House of Pain.'

  Matt laughed, eliciting a glare from Crowther. 'It couldn't be called the House of Fun, could it? You're making this up.'

  'I'm going to ignore you,' Crowther said, 'and just talk to her.' He indicated Caitlin. 'I was told-'

  'Who told you?' Caitlin interrupted.

  'That doesn't matter.' His voice was wearier now. 'But the road will be long… and hard.' The shadows stretched out as the day drew to a close and soon Crowther was ready to begin his preparations. He took them to the centre of the circle where they could watch the sky for the exact moment of sunset. None of them were prepared to back out, despite Crowther's ominous information; even Mahalia was insistent.

  'So you really know what you're doing?' Matt asked in a tone that suggested he didn't think the professor knew at all. Crowther ignored him, but Matt persisted. 'People always said these stone circles had something mysterious about them,' he continued. 'Everybody thought it was just superstition.'

  This time Crowther couldn't resist. 'There you have it. The clues have been before us for centuries, but in our arrogant belief that earlier people were ignorant, uneducated, superstitious barbarians, we ignored the truth that was hidden away in the old stories. Things that seem inherently stupid on the surface are metaphor and symbol. The stones coming to life, moving around, that means…'

  'I'm not so sure that's a metaphor,' Caitlin whispered.

  Everyone followed her gaze to the stones, which now appeared to have a thin blue light limning their edges in the setting sun. The stones themselves had taken on a ghostly quality, which could well have been a trick of light and shadow, but made it seem as if they were in one place, then another, then back again.

  'The stones are dancing,' Caitlin said with Amy's voice.

  'What's going on?' Matt asked.

  'Reality warp,' Crowther said in a hushed voice. 'This is where we got the legend that the stones here could never be counted correctly… different answers on different days. Reality here is thin, warping with the stresses of the energies concentrated in this spot.'

  'What kind of energy?' Matt asked. 'Radiation?'

  'Earth energy, spirit energy — it's called the Blue Fire, and it's in everything. If I could see it, it would be so much easier to find the patterns that would help us to open the door,' Crowther complained.

  'People can see it?' Matt said.

  'Some. Those who've learned, or who have special abilities. You need to manipulate the Blue Fire to break through to the other side, but most normal people don't have the perception to do that.' He delved into the depths of his knapsack and pulled out a small plastic bag of s
ome dark substance.

  'What's that?' Mahalia asked suspiciously.

  'Amanita muscaria. The fly agaric mushroom. These are from Mexico. You wouldn't believe the trouble I had tracking them down.'

  'Magic mushrooms?' Matt said.

  'I'm not eating those,' Caitlin/Amy whimpered. 'It's poison!'

  'There are dangers involved in everything,' Crowther said curtly. 'Ancient Siberian shamen used these mushrooms to induce out-of-body experiences and mystical and prophetic visions. There was a cult of the sacred mushroom in Mexico. The pre-Columbian Indians, circa 1500 bc, called it God's Flesh. Academics have even stated that Amanita muscaria was a significant part of the founding of Christianity alongside Jesus Christ himself. All our religions… civilisation itself… would not have come about if not for this tiny fungus.'

  'I knew a girl in Southampton who freaked out on them,' Mahalia said.

  'They're not meant for everyone.' Crowther opened the bag and poured the shrivelled mushrooms into his palm. 'It's special because it activates the "God zone" in our brain and allows us to contact the divine, the place where higher forces live, the home of dreams, visions and imagination… the Otherworld. We're going to open the doors of perception.'

  Mahalia shook her head. 'I don't like drugs. They stop you keeping an eye on the world. They're a luxury for the weak and the lazy.'

  'We're not talking about hedonism, little girl,' Crowther said witheringly. 'We're talking about the only possible way we have of getting from here to there. Well, for you and me at least — she'll be fine.' He nodded to Caitlin, who shied away in a little-girl manner. Crowther leaned towards her. 'I'm not going to make you take them,' he said loudly and insensitively. He turned over the fungi thoughtfully. 'One codicil: Aldous Huxley said, "once the doors of perception are unlocked, the path to hell is as open as the path to heaven.'"

  'Oh, give it here if it'll shut you up.' Mahalia grabbed some of the mushrooms and stuffed them into her mouth. Carlton watched her chew and swallow, then followed suit. Matt was next, a little reluctantly, and then Crowther took his portion.