Book Read Free

A Passionate Spirit

Page 20

by S. C. Skillman


  “Collect them? How do you intend to collect children?”

  Natasha trod lightly past Zoe and over to Poppy’s corner. Zoe whirled. Natasha crouched down beside the little girl, but Poppy refused to look at her.

  “You, my darling,” Natasha said, stroking the child’s cheek, “will soon be part of something more beautiful than you could ever have imagined.” She stood up and turned to face Zoe again. “I need one hundred per cent devotion,” she said. “And I have it, from my disciples. Not from you yet, Zoe, but it will come.”

  “Who are these disciples? Is James one of them?”

  “Ah, so many questions. Let’s answer the second first. Of course James is one of them. You’ll meet a few more soon. My faithful disciples got Poppy for me. And since this has worked well so far, I hope soon to get others, too. They’ll all be mine and will be kept hidden from the world.”

  Zoe swallowed. She knew that regardless of what she felt, she must stay calm, or it would be impossible to question Natasha and satisfy her curiosity.

  “Where will you keep the children?” she asked.

  “Where do you think?” said Natasha. She began to stroll back and forth across the room. “In the farmhouse.”

  “The Celtic Knot?”

  “Yes. The house James’s ancestor built,” she said. “We’ll buy it from the Trust.”

  Zoe drew a ragged breath. She remembered the funds Sonya had transferred to James’s bank account.

  “The Trust will never sell,” she said, breaking into forced laughter, which soon faded away.

  Natasha smiled. “Everyone has their price. Very soon, Zoe, I promise this will all make sense. You’ll want to follow me then, as James and Sonya already do.”

  “Natasha, how can I? I don’t know what your teachings are.”

  “I’ll help you understand. First, you have to be in touch with the True Reality, not the veil of illusion which most people hide behind.”

  “And you’re in touch with the True Reality?” asked Zoe. “How do you heal people?”

  Natasha stopped walking and swung to face Zoe. She took several steps closer to her. Zoe tensed.

  “The key to my healing”, said Natasha, “is the elimination of memories.”

  Zoe moistened her lips. “The elimination of memories?” she repeated in a faint voice.

  “Yes. Let me explain. Imagine you’ve asked me to heal you. I’ll eliminate your memory of the pain, of the injury or the illness, whatever it is. And so it will vanish.”

  “Natasha, sorry, but I find that unbelievable.” Zoe folded her arms across her chest and fixed her eyes on Natasha’s face. The pulse of her right wrist throbbed against her left arm, beating faster and faster. Dropping her hands once again to her side, she went over to Poppy and encouraged her to stand up and keep close to her. Then she turned back to face Natasha, who’d remained where she was.

  “Another question. What really happened in the King’s Head on Saturday?”

  Natasha shook with laughter. “As Jessica told you, a bird got in.”

  Zoe froze. James, of course, would have passed onto Natasha the details of Zoe’s conversation with Jessica, which she knew he’d eavesdropped on.

  “Yes, it can be frightening,” said Natasha. “A wild bird trapped inside a room. But rest assured it soon flew to freedom.”

  Zoe took Poppy’s hand and squeezed it.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Zoe,” went on Natasha. “I can see you don’t trust me. But you will. I’m confident of that.”

  Then it seemed to Zoe that Natasha had thrown out an invisible rope which was now whirling around her. All the negative or self-doubting thoughts she’d had in the three years of her marriage to Theo rushed into her mind at once, tumbling over each other. You’re not good enough. You’re too young. You don’t have the right experience. You have doubts. You haven’t got Theo’s faith. How can he possibly respect you?

  Natasha’s voice broke through. “So many high expectations, Zoe. Will Theo forgive you if you fall short?”

  Zoe started to shake.

  “Your instincts were right, Zoe, when you showed yourself ready to turn your back on your life with Theo. You wanted to be a film star, didn’t you? Well, that might not work out. But I have another future for you, one you could never have imagined, but one far, far better.”

  As Natasha said this, she raised both hands in the air, and Zoe felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. She recoiled, letting go of Poppy’s hand, and stumbled backwards. Her heart raced and her breath came in jagged gasps. Natasha could mean only one thing: she planned to kill her.

  Then small fingers grasped hers. She looked down. Poppy was holding onto her hand again, tight. All Zoe’s will to survive surged back, together with her huge responsibility for this child’s life.

  “No, Natasha!” she shouted.

  Natasha withdrew a few paces. But Zoe knew she was preparing another spiritual assault.

  “You don’t seem to realise, do you?” said Zoe, swallowing hard, and trying to control her shaking hands and arms. “The police will find you here. And then you’ll be arrested.”

  Natasha smiled. “Not so. You see, Zoe – how can I make you understand this? – I’m a shapeshifter.”

  Zoe’s stomach clenched. Natasha was deranged. “What do you mean by that?” she asked.

  “You don’t know about shapeshifting?” said Natasha. “Let me explain. Shapeshifting is one of the skills of a shaman. It’s part of the Celtic shamanic experience. Shamans are found in all parts of the world. One may be a sage, or a master, or a healer. Another may be a seer of the future, or a prophet, or a spiritual teacher. Yet another may be a shapeshifter. Shapeshifting is the ability to alter one’s physical appearance; it’s the transfer of inner personalities to the outside.”

  Zoe’s mouth had gone dry. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribcage. And then, suddenly and even incongruously, she remembered Alice’s words about the Weird Sisters, who used their power of mind corruption on Macbeth and his Lady. So Natasha was a shapeshifter, was she? Did that mean another of her forms was that of a raven?

  Natasha went on. “When you first noticed my appearance shift, Zoe, you saw one of my inner personalities as if transferred to the outside.”

  “Your appearance?” Zoe shuddered, remembering the scene in the King’s Head.

  “Yes,” said Natasha. “The Welsh bard, Taliesin, said to be the father of Celtic shamanism, often alluded to shapeshifting when he claimed: I have been in many shapes… there is nothing in which I have not been.”

  As long as Poppy’s hand remained in hers, Zoe felt she had the strength to fight Natasha’s claims.

  “Was Jesus a shaman, do you think?” she enquired.

  “Of course,” said Natasha. “The greatest of all: a divine Master.”

  Zoe moistened her lips. “I don’t think Theo would agree with that.”

  “Who cares what Theo might think? He wouldn’t dare oppose me,” said Natasha.

  “Yes he would!” burst out Zoe. “He has a far greater power than you on his side.”

  Natasha stared at her, a look of faint amusement growing in her eyes.

  “If it makes you happy to believe that, do. But remember, you have a choice: two outcomes; negative and positive. You choose.”

  Zoe’s heart thundered. She hoped Alice was with the police right now. And she prayed that they’d get here fast, before Natasha started putting her demented plans into action. At Zoe’s side, Poppy had remained silent and still. Zoe still clutched her hand, though it felt moist and slippery. She searched Natasha’s face, hoping for some sign of sanity and normality that she could appeal to.

  “I hear your thoughts, Zoe,” Natasha said in a low voice. “I know you think I’m insane. Often a shamanic healer has entered her own death, illness or madness, and found the path through it with the help of Spirit.” She smiled. “I cannot be caged; not this time.” Before Zoe could query her last phrase, Natasha went on. �
�I’ll take flight. The police are powerless to stop me.”

  Someone fitted a key into the door-lock from the other side. Zoe tightened her hold on Poppy’s hand. New hope flared that it might be Theo with the police. No, they’d be breaking the door down.

  “Ah, James and Sonya,” said Natasha, “with Alice.”

  Zoe started. She fixed her eyes on the door. Natasha glided across and opened it.

  “Come in, James,” she said. “And you, Sonya.”

  James entered, looking very different to how Zoe remembered him from their last conversation. His manner now was that of a disturbed ferret.

  Sonya, behind him, was in a state of disarray. Her beehive hair had come undone and several strands of it hung around her face. There was no sign of Alice. Zoe’s heart beat fast.

  “Where’s Alice?” asked Natasha sharply.

  “She got away,” said James.

  Zoe’s heart sang. She felt like punching the air. God bless you and protect you, Alice, she breathed.

  Natasha screamed. “Why did I ever trust you?”

  “Natasha,” James pleaded, seizing hold of her hands.

  Natasha snatched them from him. “You find that girl! Didn’t she even hurt herself?”

  “No idea,” said Sonya. “She was gone long before we could find out.”

  But Sonya now seemed to have lost interest in the question of where Alice was. Instead, she’d fixed her gaze on Poppy, who clung to Zoe’s hand. Slowly Sonya began to move towards the child, hands out, palms uppermost, ignoring Natasha and James.

  “Go, James!” cried Natasha. “You must get her back. If she brings the police you two will be lost.”

  Zoe was perplexed by Natasha’s last phrase. Surely, if the police came, all three of them would be arrested. Did Natasha consider herself somehow inviolable and beyond the force of the law?

  “Take the Cayenne!” commanded Natasha. “Alice may keep to fields and woods at first, but will be desperate to get to a road. You’ll be bound to pick her up sooner or later.”

  Zoe had never seen James so obedient. He scuttled off. Sonya, however, impervious to all else, had reached Poppy and was now squatting down in front of her, holding her free hand.

  “What a perfect child,” she whispered.

  “Yes, yes,” said Natasha. “I see you like her. Now, Sonya, come here. I need to talk to you.”

  Sonya tried to take Poppy into her arms. But the child clung to Zoe.

  “Give her time, Sonya,” said Natasha. “There’s much to do yet. And remember, there’ll be more, many more.”

  “Yes,” cried Sonya, her face transfigured, as she rose to her feet and rejoined her sister. “Thank you, Natasha!”

  Zoe bit her lip; she watched this little scene in mystification. Then she squeezed Poppy’s hand, as the two sisters spoke together in an undertone.

  “We’ll need to act, fast,” said Natasha. “Now Alice has got away, we must bring our plans forward.”

  “Yes,” said Sonya.

  Pulling Poppy with her, Zoe backed away from the two sisters. How they planned to kill them both, she had no idea. She could see no weapons on them. But even so they may have knives hidden from sight. All she knew was that she must protect Poppy.

  The Cayenne sprang into life down below and James drove away. Zoe’s eye flicked past Natasha. In his hurry to do Natasha’s bidding, James had left the door ajar; and Natasha had failed to notice, distracted by Sonya’s behaviour towards the child. Zoe silently thanked God for this lapse, and squeezed Poppy’s hand, hoping to communicate a warning to her. Meanwhile, she focused on the two sisters.

  Sonya’s eyes were devouring Poppy once more.

  “Sonya! Please tell me what this is all about,” said Zoe. “You’re not casting for a film, are you? What do you want with Poppy? What’s this plan you and Natasha have been talking about?”

  Sonya wore a pitying expression.

  “All you need know, Zoe,” said Sonya, “is that the little girl has come to us, and I’ll be her protector.”

  “She’s come to me. And right now, I’m her sole protector,” said Natasha with a warning note in her voice.

  Sonya flashed a shocked glance at Natasha. “What do you mean? I’ve turned over all my savings to you to make this possible.”

  Zoe moistened her lips as she listened to this.

  “And I offered to look after Poppy for you,” said Sonya.

  “Yes,” said Natasha. “And I’ve accepted your gift. Be patient. You’ll have your reward. But in my timing.”

  This seemed to defuse Sonya’s anxiety for a second or two. But then she said, “You did promise. You know I’m the only one who can do it. It will need a very special person.”

  “Even so,” responded Natasha, “The final decision is mine. And it may be that I need to put you through the initiation again.”

  Natasha seemed to grow taller, as the two sisters faced each other.

  Zoe, hand-in-hand with Poppy, began to edge towards the door. She kept a vigilant eye on the two sisters. Her heart raced.

  “I thought we’d agreed about Poppy,” said Sonya. “I was to have her. And I claim her. Whatever else you do, I must have Poppy.”

  Zoe had reached the door by now.

  “Wait, and be patient,” insisted Natasha.

  “Are you testing me?” asked Sonya in an ominous tone of voice.

  Zoe pulled Poppy’s hand, and flew through the doorway.

  And as she did so, she remembered her dream. The one which had woken her in terror, before she shared it with Theo and later recounted it to Alice. And now she knew it was about to come true.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  As she stumbled over uneven, stony ground, clutching Poppy’s hand, sweat drenched Zoe’s blouse, sticking it to her skin, despite the dank chill in the air. Her heart pounded and Poppy’s fingers kept slipping out of hers. She scrubbed her hand against her trousers and then felt her jacket pocket. With a sickening shock, she realised it was empty. She must have dropped the torch somewhere, soon after leaving the mill. She seized the child’s hand again. The light was very low, and soon they’d be in darkness.

  Once outside the mill, they’d fled round the side of the building through to the partially-landscaped garden at the back. She could glimpse water beyond the tall, tasselled reeds. She wondered whether to head down there and follow the course of the river. But it might be too obvious – and dangerous if they lost the path. The road was out of the question at this point. James would easily pick them up in his Cayenne.

  Reaching the perimeter of the grounds, they scrambled over a wire fence, to find themselves on a narrow, bramble-choked path which skirted the edge of a wood. They ran along it, Zoe wincing and Poppy sobbing as spiky stems tore at their clothes and flesh, drawing blood.

  After ten minutes, they came out into a field. Her chest burning, and tears stinging her eyes, Zoe paused to wipe sweat and hair away, both from her face and from Poppy’s.

  Dusk was already well-advanced. They’d need to accustom their eyes to the dark to have any chance at all. They set off again, pounding along the edge of the field, avoiding open space. Zoe knew Natasha and Sonya must be close behind, and they’d have brought torches and possibly flashlights with them, and would be at an advantage. She held Poppy’s hand tight as the cold intensified. Zoe clenched her teeth together to stop them from chattering. She wondered whether they could last the night out in the open, before hypothermia set in. Poppy only had a cardigan to keep her warm. She’d been brought to the apartment without any coat or jacket.

  Zoe halted. In front of them was a ditch, filled with mud, half-hidden by low-hanging field maples. She twisted round and saw, in the distance, a glimmer of white. Natasha had burst out from among the trees on the opposite side of the field. Zoe seized Poppy in her arms and plunged into and across the ditch, fighting her way through the twigs and branches of the trees beyond it. As she set Poppy down again, soaked in mud, scratched and bruised, she glimpsed mo
vement across the field – the dark shapes of a herd of cows.

  Keeping to the wooded margins of the field, they stumbled along the dirt track. A sharp wind whipped them as they struggled along the path. Their breathing came fast and jagged, and they had miles ahead of them in gathering dark, with no chance of a rest.

  Two crows arose from the thicket ahead of them. A buzzard which had been wheeling overhead dive-bombed the crows and the air became filled with angry shrieks.

  Poppy shrank in to Zoe’s side as the battle rose to a climax. Disordered thoughts jostled in Zoe’s mind, along with pictures of Natasha shapeshifting and attacking them in feathered form. She forced the images away.

  They hurried up to higher ground as a light aircraft replaced the birds. A vast open space lay before them, but the darkness prevented Zoe from discerning any details. By daylight, she may have identified different features of the landscape, perhaps recognizing a church spire, or another landmark, silhouetted against the sky. But right now it was impossible to orientate herself. All they could do was put as much distance as possible between themselves and their pursuers, and hope to reach a road or lane and stop a motorist.

  She grabbed Poppy’s hand and they bounded to the end of the field, and then descended into a plantation, losing all the height they’d walked up earlier. Every so often, Zoe turned to see if she could catch sight of Sonya or Natasha – or, indeed, James, for she’d no idea what he might choose to do, in the event of finding or giving up on Alice.

  Their path skirted around a high bank before rising up a hill. Reaching the brow, they found themselves stumbling down to another wood, through a succession of fields. Still they’d found no lanes or farm tracks. On the point of entering the wood, she turned, and saw the flash of torchlight roughly twenty metres away. Her heart lurched.

  Then she heard James’s voice. “Give up,” he shouted. “You don’t stand a chance.”

  His presence must mean there was a road not far away, where he would have left the Cayenne. Zoe saw Sonya and Natasha beside him.

  “Poppy! Hurry!” she gasped, as they stumbled forward into a dense clump of trees. Zoe had no idea whether or not they were following the main path. Pausing to look behind her, she saw another flash back at the entrance to the wood.

 

‹ Prev