Daughter of the Storm

by Tina Callaghan

  Although the door was huge and thick, Matt gave it two almighty kicks and drove it inward. The lock didn’t give way, but the door took the frame with it, falling inside the house.

  Terror ripped through Lia as she stepped over the threshold into the Hall, gripping Ed’s hand until he suddenly let go. Becky set off across black-and-white tiles towards the magnificent staircase. Lia looked around for Ed and Jasmine but saw only Matt outside the door. He was shouting but she couldn’t hear him. She turned back to call Becky, who had stopped walking. Something clattered onto the floor behind Lia but before she could look to see what it was, she saw that Becky was surrounded with what looked like floating cobwebs. With a few more steps, Lia felt it herself. Cold. Awful cold. Her heart stuttered in her chest and it was all she could do to keep moving. She thought she heard music, and then she was out of it. And completely alone.

  One minute, Ed could feel Lia’s hand in his, expressing fear in the tightness of her grip, the next she was gone. Ed stood on the black-and-white tiles and looked around. Where there had been dampness and age, there was now a pristine hall, glowing in the light of oil lamps. Where there had been only the small group of people who had entered the building with him, there were now people everywhere. He backed onto the bottom step of the staircase, bumping into someone. He turned quickly, Lia’s name on his lips. The woman gave him a contemptuous look that turned to interest. She was wearing the sort of ball gown that Ed didn’t have the word for. Her hair was piled on her head and her skin was powdered pale. She swished past him to join her companion, a tall man with a neatly trimmed beard. Ed blinked hard and his vision doubled. The colourful people wavered as though they were underwater, or he was.

  Then music started and everyone turned to look at the stairs behind Ed. He looked too and his stomach flipped. It was her.

  She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. She was a girl really, but something noble about her expression and the way she carried herself made her ageless. She moved slowly down the stairs, ignoring the gasps and spontaneous applause from the assembled crowd who had become her captive audience. Instead, she looked only at Ed. He was frozen to the spot as she swayed towards him.

  She stopped at the bottom and tilted her head for a kiss. He pressed his lips against her cheek. He could feel his blood rushing around his body. She smiled at him, her eyes golden, her skin shining. Taking his hand, she led him into the crowd, which parted for them. Together, they walked through the hall and into the ballroom. The others fell into procession with them.

  The ballroom was impossibly large. Ed couldn’t see the end of it and when he looked back he could no longer see where they had entered the room. There was no time to react. Still in charge, she led him into a dance that he couldn’t have known and yet did. Dizzy and with his eyes sometimes becoming unfocused, he danced with her.

  She swept him around until they were in the curve of a bay window. They sat on the window seat and Ed looked out at the path to the beach, lit by footmen standing with lanterns.

  Her hand touched his cheek, bringing his attention back to her. He brought the hand to his lips and pressed a kiss upon the palm. When he opened his eyes, his vision blurred again. Her hair, which had been fair enough to be called white, was now falling in messy chestnut waves past her shoulders. She was still pale, but her lips were red. He shook his head, saw vivid green eyes and jumped to his feet. She stood, again pale, her eyes golden once more.

  Not Lia, he thought. Beautiful, but not Lia.

  She leaned into him, trapping him against the panelled curve of the window alcove. He groaned because he knew that if she wanted him, there was little he could do to stop her, and little he would want to do.

  He would be hers, forever, if she wanted it. Some secret place inside him, hidden deep down, would love another, but it wouldn’t matter.

  Her lips touched the skin of his throat and he turned his head to allow her freer access. Unlike before, when she had sliced his skin with her long nails, this time he felt the cool press of sharp teeth. It was unbearably exciting.

  ‘Get away from her!’ came a strong a male voice.

  She paused. The word don’t came to Ed’s lips, but no sound came out. She drew back, leaving him bereft.

  Andrew. The endless ballroom was empty except for Andrew.

  ‘She is mine,’ Andrew said between his teeth. His face was dark red. ‘I’ve been with her from the beginning and no one is going to take her from me. We’re going to do whatever we want, forever. You are just an interloper. You don’t matter. This island is mine.’

  He walked closer and took her slender hand.

  ‘We belong together,’ he said, his voice soft.

  She looked down at her hand, then back at Andrew, head cocked to one side. Then she turned her head to look at Ed, her expression hungry and sharp.

  The attack was slow enough to see, but too fast to stop. She leapt, sank her teeth into flesh, and ripped Andrew’s throat so deeply that his head lolled onto his shoulder, only barely attached. He stood for a horrible moment, with blood sheeting down his body and pooling at his feet. Then he folded, his feet skidding on his own blood. When his head hit the floor, it briefly closed the terrible wound in his neck like a mouth, before it gaped open again exposing the curve of the neck bone.

  Ed leaned over and vomited, his eyes streaming. With his throat and nose burning, he leaned against the wall.

  She was still there, still beautiful, even the blood on her mouth beautiful, but now he could see more clearly that she was sharp, silent and strange. As he had done before, he called Lia to mind, remembering how they had pressed so close against each other, how she had been ready to be with him, how the memory of his terror and arousal from his experience with the girl had made him stop. He didn’t want anyone on his mind but Lia when the moment came for them.

  As before, filling his mind and heart with Lia gave the creature pause.

  This time, she didn’t look sad, she looked angry, and he became afraid for Lia. But he had misjudged the situation. She flung him to the floor and crouched over him. Without hesitating, she bent to his throat and sank her teeth into his jugular vein.

  Ed screamed into the dark, empty house and couldn’t tell himself if it was a scream of pain and horror, or one of awful pleasure.

  Jasmine had tried to follow Lia into the house, but the wind caught her like an invisible hand. It lifted her and took her breath away. She had flashing impressions of being flung through dark clouds with piercing forks of lightning all around her. Then, as though she had reached the calm eye of the storm, she was suddenly released into a vacuum. She dropped, screaming, and crashed through the surface of the rough sea. Water rushed into her mouth and darkness surrounded her.

  When she regained consciousness, she felt quite calm, though she must surely have been drowning. She felt no pain, or desire for air, and wondered if she were really awake.

  I’m underwater. It can’t be real. Not happening. I’ll close my eyes and when I open them Lia and the others will be here and everything will be normal.

  Someone spoke but she heard it not with her ears but in her mind.

  Jazz, open your eyes. Don’t be afraid. Be strong. Save our little girl.

  Will? Is that you?

  Open your eyes.

  She did. Will wasn’t there but the bodies were. Some were relatively fresh and intact, but others were just bones with some rags attached. The worst were the ones in between. Something had been at them, tearing lumps of rotting flesh away, leaving exposed bone. She could see ropes of grey intestines bloated with gas and ordure, floating above corpses. Her stomach jolted, and bile tried to rise up her throat. With it came the agonising need for air. She pushed herself upwards, her head pounding. She sucked in air desperately, coughing and spitting. There were bodies on the surface of the water too and one moved.

  It was tangled with a mass of other corpses but it clawed its way free, its bones green with algae. A feathery frond was gro
wing from an eye socket. Jasmine screamed, half sinking. She clamped her lips shut, not wanting to swallow any of the filthy water.

  The other bodies shifted and squirmed. She tried to back up but found herself against a rock wall. She kicked frantically, terrified that she would be grabbed from underneath. There was a stone ledge against which the water surged at the back of what she now saw was a cave, so she swam for it. The ledge was wide. Clambering up on it didn’t help, because a glance back showed her that the water was churning with more than the incoming sea. Bodies and bones were protruding above the surface and all the empty eye sockets were focused on her. There was nowhere to go. She shut her eyes again.

  Sorry, Will, my darling. There’s nothing I can do. I’m trapped here.

  There was no answer but the sound of the sea. She heard the click of the first bony hands reaching onto the ledge, but then the sound was drowned out. The eye of the storm must have passed. The wind and sea began to whirl and roar. Together, they sounded like a furious animal charging her. She opened her eyes and saw the base of an enormous wave racing towards the cave mouth. There was nowhere to retreat. She took a huge breath and braced herself.

  Let it take you, baby. Go with it.

  Will?

  The sea rushed into the cave, pushing dead bodies before it in hideous ranks. It washed much higher than the ledge and Jasmine found herself in churning water with corpses swirling around her. She was as helpless against the force of the water as they were. Together, she and the dead were lifted and thrust upwards, knocked hard against the sides of what seemed to be a vertical tunnel. She covered her face to protect it from the broken bones flying around her.

  She was suddenly free of the tunnel, carried into the air on a platform of water. Lightning flashed and the water dropped away, throwing her onto soft spongy grass. She lay in the rain, cut, bruised and winded, listening to the boom of the blowholes breathing in and exhaling the cold ocean. Bones clattered around her. Winded or not, when she saw a disembodied arm twitching beside her, she got to her feet and ran.

  Lia crossed the black-and-white tiled floor, her foot kicking something that slid away. She pushed double doors open, revealing a ballroom. Immediately, she felt stuffy warmth on her face and heard music and chattering people. The room was empty. She backed away, her heart thundering. The house was haunted by more than the Strix. It was one thing to come in here with her mother and Becky, and three big strong men, and quite another to be wandering around on her own, after everyone disappeared, and hearing the sound of a party that wasn’t there. Then the music faded and she heard Ed’s voice. She ran to a bay window which looked out over the dark sea. Whirling, she tried to look everywhere at once. She had heard him. He must be here. After all, he wasn’t a ghost. And neither was she.

  What if you are? What if you’re dead and that’s why you’re alone and hearing echoes of things.

  She shook her head and realised that there was blood on the floor. It was different to the drops of blood she had seen in Ed’s kitchen after his father had attacked him, but it was unmistakeably blood. It flooded onto the floor from an invisible source and began to pool. Lia backed away. The blood continued to move and grow on the surface of the floor, until it formed a shape that Lia knew from crime TV shows. Forensic people drew chalk outlines around dead bodies. This was blood, but it took the same shape, flowing around an unseen obstacle, creating a deep red outline, in which Lia could see the yellow flicker of oil lamps. A moment later, she heard a scream, that of a man crying out in terror. There was no reason for her to know, but she knew anyway. It was Ed and he was in terrible, terrible danger. Ignoring the blood, she searched the area, more with her hands and her heart than her eyes. She couldn’t find him although she thought that he was close. Sobbing with fear, she ran back to the tiled hall and called his name.

  ‘Ed!’

  ‘Lia!’

  She was answered, but not by Ed. It was Harry’s voice from somewhere above her.

  ‘Harry!’ Lia ran, taking the stairs two at a time. When she reached the landing, she called again, and this time she heard a baby gurgle. She rushed forward. Becky’s baby was here, alive.

  Again, the sound didn’t lead to anyone. There were people in the house, her people, but she couldn’t reach them. She turned back to the stairs and gasped. Instead of being covered in dust, it gleamed, polished and shining in the light cast by many lamps. She ran back down to the hallway and this time saw a family walking from what looked like a sitting room into the dining room. They were dressed in old-fashioned clothes and were plainly father and mother, twin boys and a tall, attractive girl with her hair scooped into a thick roll on the back of her head. Lia saw them being greeted by a butler and seated around a long table.

  She was invisible to them. They talked and ate while she watched. Feeling trapped and despairing, she went to the long windows and looked out over the driveway. She leaned her forehead against the cold glass pane and tried to think.

  It was not just the Strix. The Hall itself was haunted. By ghosts, by the past, she didn’t know exactly. If it was the Hall, then maybe all she had to do was go back out the door she had come in.

  Walking quickly, she went to the big front door and pulled it open. The wind and rain took her breath away as she stepped outside.

  The sea was rumbling close by and a path was lit leading down to what was probably the Hall’s private beach. Not knowing what else to do, and not wanting to leave entirely, in case the others could somehow find her, she set off down the path.

  Becky was in darkness. Utter stygian black. She put her palm against her nose but couldn’t see a thing. She stood completely still. She had walked across the black-and-white tiles towards the stairs, with the others around her. Then all of life had winked out. She put her arms out and made a slow half-circle with them. There was no one else within reach. She had a funny feeling that she shouldn’t call out. She had read a saying once, something about how if you were in a room with a tiger, it was better to have the light on.

  The tiger could be staring at her, its eyes better adapted to the darkness than hers. Weren’t there stories of tigers stealing children from villages? She knew it wasn’t a tiger, but from the moment she thought of it, she was certain that a hunter was there with her. She could feel its eyes burning into her.

  Then she heard a sound that she knew with every fibre of her being. A little gurgle.

  Francis. He’s here somewhere.

  Her muscles tensed and she almost took a step forward into the unknown.

  Careful. For Francis’ sake, go carefully. Think.

  She closed her eyes and touched her eyelids. Maybe it wasn’t the room that was without light. Maybe it was her. Was she blind? It didn’t seem possible that there wasn’t the slightest hint of light or shade. Never mind, that would have to be considered later. Right now, she had to make her way in the direction of the tiny noise Francis had made.

  She hunkered down, moving slowly. At the very least, there was solid ground under her feet. Feeling around her, she felt safe enough to kneel and shuffle forward, feeling ahead all the time. The surface was cold and she was crossing straight lines, so she was probably still in the hall of black-and-white tiles. This thought gave her the confidence to move more quickly.

  Her sliding hands struck something solid. She explored and realised that she was at the bottom of the stairs. She found the rail and stood, keeping her hand on the banister, and listened. After a minute, she heard him again, this time a little above her. He was moving. She guessed the Strix was still carrying him, climbing the stairs, watching Becky coming after her son, shuffling and blind.

  Giving up caution, she ran up the stairs, using the banister as a guide. Although very old, the staircase was perfectly made and each step was even and the same height. Still, she caught her toe near the top and just saved herself, swinging around and hurting her shoulder in her effort to hold on to the rail.

  She waited again, thinking. The Strix was watchin
g her, mocking her and always keeping out of reach. There was no way she would be able to save him like this. What would her mother have done?

  Becky swallowed a sob. She hadn’t admitted to herself before then that her mother was dead. She had needed to hold herself together in order to find the baby and that was no different now. Rose had always been the one that Becky could turn to, so she did so again.

  Help me, Mam. I have to get him back. Please help me.

  At once she smelled her mother’s perfume. Rose had never been big into fashion or beauty, but she did like her old-fashioned L’aimant perfume. The scent of it now was an answer. She put out her hand and felt it being gently taken. The essence of her mother filled her, replacing her own senses. She felt Rose’s sorrow and love. The combined weight of her mother’s pain along with her own was too much to bear.

  Dear. Look up, dear. I’m here. I’m helping you see.

  Becky did look up. It was no longer fully dark. She could see outlines of the house around her, edged in blue, like the phosphorescence emitted by marsh gases.

  Careful.

  Yes, careful, she thought. Don’t let her know that you can see a little.

  Becky took an unsteady step forward and turned the corner to the second tier of steps. Being careful not to focus on any one spot for too long, she saw the Strix at the top of the stairs, with Baby Francis still held in one arm. Her little boy was goggling at the girl holding him. He didn’t look frightened. He was too young to be able to focus but something had fascinated him.

  As Becky slowly mounted the stairs, she saw the Strix touch a taloned finger to the baby’s cheek. Francis closed his eyes and a bubble formed between his lips.

  Becky reached the top step and started to walk cautiously forward but at a slight angle away from where the Strix stood. She checked the floor ahead with her foot each time, allowing herself to drift gradually towards the Strix. She had no hope of getting the baby – she had seen how fast the Strix could move – but she didn’t care. She didn’t know how, but her mother would help her, as she had thrown herself into the path of danger before when the Strix had attacked. All Becky could do was trust that her little boy was not meant to be taken from her. She believed in the bond between herself and her mother, and herself and her new baby. Someone was going to have to die and if it had to be her instead of Francis, that was fine.