‘Oh my…’ Miss Dorothy fell silent as she gazed at the vision of creatures surging into her garden. They emerged from the trees, from the sky, and from the ground. Some were huge, some silent, some crooning softly, some not quite seen at all. Feeling more confident, Ellie gathered in her breath and streamed it out across the open ground like smoke. A call, sent out to the forest beyond.
The hag stone responded by flaring brighter.
Ellie closed her eyes as dozens of faeries gathered in around them both, and rain began drizzling from the sky.
Miss Dorothy quivered and trembled with excitement. She shifted her position and quietly sang a new low, experimental note. As it gained in volume, her voice rose up the scale, becoming more operatic and rich with emotion. The beings pressed closer, and the air around them began to trill and heat as Miss Dorothy’s note rose higher and higher, becoming a single exhalation of sound soaring overhead. A crackle of sound, and the tone ended abruptly with a high, sharp shriek.
Shocked, Ellie opened her eyes, certain she would find Miss Dorothy crumpled to the ground beside her.
‘Ellie dear, what’s happening?’
Light was flaring up into the trees. The old lady didn't look afraid; her round-cheeked face was glowing - reds, blues, greens - reflecting the changing colours that were streaming out from the hag stone she held clutched between her hands.
‘I don't know!’ Ellie cried. Her own stone flared with heat and Ellie dropped it onto the rug, startled.
‘Oh my,’ murmured Miss Dorothy. Carefully, as though she was in no great hurry, she placed her stone down next to Ellie’s.
The hag stones touched and immediately an incandescent flash arced into the cloud overhead. Thunder cracked, booming so loud it shook the ground like a cannon.
‘Oh my,’ repeated Miss Dorothy gazing upwards, the red hood of Ellie’s raincoat bright against her face. ‘Oh my, oh my, oh my…’
Around them, more faeries surged closer, pressing down, leaning on them both, drawn by the brightness coiling from the centre of the stones.
‘Oh my –’ whispered Miss Dorothy, smiling up at Ellie. ‘Oh my, oh my… this is wonderful.’
Lightning sizzled and, as Miss Dorothy and Ellie looked upwards, the heavens opened and a deluge of water fell from the sky. It drenched their upturned faces, saturating the tree and all the beings crowded around them in the garden. Miss Dorothy giggled and tipped back her hood. In a second, her tight grey curls were plastered against her skin. Ellie grinned and together they began to laugh and laugh, the delighted sound lost in the noise of the pouring rain.
THIRTY
Blue Mountains, Australia, present day
The black stone, hanging from a long, silver chain, thudded against her skin with every downward step. A bellow echoed up from the trees below, and Rose slowed. She contemplated stopping altogether, but Ben was behind her and she could hear the pace of his breath and the laboured groan as he wrestled with the weight of the jerry can.
‘Hey.’ Rose turned. ‘We could rest for a bit.’ Just ahead, an outcrop of rock jutted out at an angle above the stairs, sending a pool of shadow over a single seat carved into the cliff face.
Brushing her hair up off her neck, Rose stopped. Moisture beaded, sliding between her breasts, causing the light fabric of her dress to stick to her skin. Rose sighed. Overhead the sun glared in the white-hot sky.
‘Rosalind!’ Her father’s voice snapped with impatience. It sounded further away.
‘We’d better get going.’ Ben urged, hefting the jerry can to his other hand.
Smiling, Rose traced her finger along his arm as he adjusted the load. ‘We don’t really have too...’
‘Rosalind, Ben!’ Her father’s voice shot up like a command.
With a careless shrug, she tilted her head back for a prolonged kiss before sauntering down the stairs again, her hips swaying with every movement.
At the bottom, her father was pacing along the path, clad in a simple white shirt and black trousers, thudding one hand hard into the other. A tree fern trembled with each footfall, its fronds gone and its trunk blackened and crumbling. At its base were the charred remains of a torch.
‘How did this happen?’ Matthew roared. He looked wild, his eyes drawn as though he had spent too many nights awake. ‘Look!’ He struck the torch forcibly with his foot and it crumbled to ash.
Rose glanced away, having reached the lower steps. She stood gripping the handrail, while Ben squeezed past and dropped the jerry can to the ground. She closed her eyes. At least here at the base of the cliff the temperature was cooler, out of the sun and shadowed from the worst of the freakish heat.
But they weren’t here for a day trip into the forest. Scattered between the shaded rocks, and hanging precariously overhead where they’d landed, were the ruins of their once blazing torches.
Rose didn’t want to look, but still, she couldn’t help seeing the wide circle of blackness fanning out from the cliff base and into the forest itself.
That was all.
The fires hadn’t sustained.
‘She did this. Everywhere, it’s the same, all our work for naught.’ Matthew trembled with fury. ‘She, and your faithless little friend Ellie, we have to find them. We have to stop them, or we’ll never be free.’
‘But Dad,’ Rose swallowed and set her mouth into her most encouraging smile, ‘it’s working, look around you at the trees, everything is about to keel over anyway.’
‘No,’ Matthew snapped. ‘It’s not fast enough. We cannot stumble at the first hurdle. To be faithful, we must be true in life, and in action.’
‘But Dad -’ Exasperated, Rose jumped off the step towards him and landed in a pile of blackened fronds. They disintegrated into a cloud of soot. ‘We don’t need to-’
But Matthew wasn’t listening. Gathering his robes, he strode down the narrow path and into the silence of the forest.
Ben held out his hand. ‘Come on. He’s right. We’ve got to finish it.’
Rose shook her head. She considered tracing her hand across Ben’s face, or pressing the warmth of her body into his. Smiling, she peeked up at him through her lashes, but Ben had lifted the can of fuel. Rose hesitated; his eyes mirrored the same flare of conviction as her father’s.
‘I am not going back in there!’ Rose cried and turning, she ran away up the first flight of stairs, dramatically stopping only when the steps were high enough to hide her from view.
‘Ben,’ she called softly.
She paused, a leaf dropped from overhead, its brittle form turning slowly in the stillness. ‘We can wait for Dad here, just the two of us...’
Silence.
Frowning, Rose crept back down the stairs, peeking over the edge into the forest below.
‘Ben?’
A footfall cracked.
Tossing back her hair, Rose quickened her pace. Her thoughts fixed on an appropriate punishment for her lover. Haughty silence. Or maybe she would just sidle up to him and kiss him – but, only if he was truly contrite.
Clasping the handrail, Rose reached the bottom of the steps and jumped to the ground.
Ash swirled, with flakes as soft as snow falling in the stillness of the blackened trees.
Like a crowd of haggard men, weighed down by their scorched brokenness, the dead and dying tree ferns stood in hunched and skeletal poses. They seemed to press in closer, waiting. Waiting for her to move, to react.
A shadow trembled and Rose whirled around, her heart thudding in fright.
The ferns shrank back, exposing the narrow forest path that twisted its way further into the trees.
Ducking her head low, Rose ran. Twigs slashed against her skin. The path looped around gigantic boulders and fallen shattered giants. Furious, Rose smacked at a branch in her way.
The path widened into the picnic area and ahead Rose could see the two of them, her father and Ben, their heads together, talking by one of the low, broken down tables. Her father didn’t even look up as
she walked towards them.
‘Is this where you first saw her?’
‘What?’ Rose glared at him.
‘You heard me, Rosalind, we need to know.’
Rose stopped, her father’s face was paler than usual, and his hands shook as he studied the tracks branching away from them through the trees.
‘Why didn’t you wait?’ She placed her hands on her hips, glaring at Ben, and sank angrily onto the bench. ‘I hate it here.’ She muttered.
‘Rosalind,’ Matthew’s voice was brittle with impatience. ‘Calm yourself. You were here. Is this where you and Ellie first saw -’
Rose cut him off with a sharp slap on the wood. She dropped her head onto the table and lay with her eyes half closed, as all around sharp bands of sunlight slashed across the forest floor. Moisture had fled, and any hint of dappled softness had vanished.
‘Rose?’
Memory flared. A tone, a shape... Ellie spinning, round and round like an idiot.
Rose shuddered.
‘Tell us.’ Ben’s hand felt hot on her skin. ‘We need to find her. We need to find Ellie. We know the witch has trapped her. Tell us, is this the place?’
A dappled wood, a tree, and a shadow turning its face to hers...
Fear thudded through her chest and Rose slapped it back, hard. No, she did not want to remember.
She jumped to her feet. ‘I’m going home.’
‘Rosalind,’ her father snapped. ‘Do not be such a fool. You are not a child. You know what we search for, and why.’ His blue eyes were piercing.
A fool...? Abruptly Rose laughed out loud, the sudden sound piercing the stillness of the forest. She lifted her arms, stretching her muscles out, and raised them, once, twice into the air.
‘I’m not a fool ... Father.’ She hissed, dragging the word out. ‘Of course I know why we are here. And what we have to do. But it doesn’t mean I want to be here, or want to remember.’ Rose shook herself, her eyes gleaming gold in the harsh light of the day. ‘I never had a choice!’
She didn't wait for them. Turning on her heel, Rose marched out of the gully with her head up, leaving her father and her lover to scurry behind. She didn’t need to think, she didn’t need to remember. With her perfect sense of direction, she could see the land stretched out before her like a map - every turn, every fold of the land clear, and marked, like she was flying high above with a perfect, bird’s-eye view.
✽✽✽
The cliffs jutted stark against the sky, rich red against blazing blue. Sunlight scorched the clearing.
Rose leaned against the nearest rock, the rough surface scratching against her leg. She ignored it; she held her gaze trained straight ahead onto Ben, only Ben, and nothing else. Her skin prickled, but she was ignoring that too, prickling as though a thousand, tiny eyes were tracking her every move.
‘My God.’ Ben held up a lumpy bunch of twigs. ‘This is where she got it from. I had no idea she was in so deep, all this time...’ His eyes narrowed and, aiming with his foot, he kicked the woven nest out over the wall of boulders.
Come on. Rose gestured impatiently to the jerry can. Behind him, her father was in the centre, standing with his eyes closed and his arms wrapped tightly around his middle.
It was revolting, she shuddered; it felt like ants crawling up her back, focused on her, watching her.
‘Ben,’ she hissed in a loud whisper. ‘Ben! Just get on with it. And then we can go.’
He shook his head.
Raising his hands, her father lifted his eyes straight to the heavens. ‘Hear me,’ he shouted, his voice echoed through the clearing. ‘Hear me. You know I am here.’
Rose felt a sharp contraction of terror. It was like it was a physical thing, falling straight out of the sky, settling over her heart, squeezing her guts. She could barely breathe.
‘Hear me!’
Rose tried to push it away. ‘Who’s he talking to?’ she managed to croak out the words. ‘He’s not praying, is he? Who is it!’
Ben shrugged and picked up the can of kerosene.
Matthew stared upwards. Ba Set had been here. He could feel remnants of her presence - her evil, lacing the very air. It raced along his nerves like fire.
The abbot, God rest his soul, had forewarned him. He had counselled him about this unnatural linkage, this blood bond between his witch mother and himself, and had gifted him the holy stone as protection. But without it he knew he was naked, visible, his pure shining spirit laid bare to this being of corruption.
A howl of fury rose in his chest.
‘Mother!’ He shouted. ‘Damn you! Where are you hiding?’
Stillness and silence answered. Heat shimmered over the trees. No reply. Yet. He could feel them.
There was a sliver of movement and Matthew beheld a clutch of small faces up high, peering down at him through the leaves.
There.
‘Be gone!’ He roared. At once they vanished, leaving only a weak quivering in the air. ‘Yes,’ he laughed. ‘You demons can’t help but obey me.’
‘Daddy, what are you doing?’ His daughter’s voice cried out; she sounded small, and very young. ‘Let’s go, Ben’s ready.’
Matthew stared up into the high branches.
Quickly, he tore off his shoes and socks and tossed them aside. That was better, Matthew nodded; he needed to connect, and he needed to know. He breathed quickly, the warmth of the ground soaking into the soles of his feet even as his toes spread, gripping the earth.
Behind him, Matthew could feel Rosalind and Ben watching him. Their eyes hot on his back. They were confused, he knew, but if he succeeded, his daughter would never know the loneliness of her lover growing older, withering, while she barely changed.
Abomination.
Where was the witch?
The trees towered tall, straight, and white, with great strips of bark hanging free, exposing the flesh beneath.
Matthew placed his hand on a trunk and closed his eyes. He didn't have to search, he didn't have to particularly change his breathing, he just let his senses roam, feeling for the life force. Unmistakable, it was there. He could hear the sap creep, oozing through the veins carrying nutrients. He could feel the quiver of the leaves as they absorbed the energy of the sun. But it was faint, the life force was faint. This tree, as all the others in this forest, stood weak and soon it would die. Matthew smiled. Toppling, it would take a clutch more with it as it fell.
First the forests, then the seas, and then the earth will be scorched.
‘And then’, he whispered, ‘then we will be taken up into heaven, whole and pure in the fullness of our flesh.’ Longing coursed through Matthew’s being, so strong it caused him to almost stumble.
Movement whipped through the clearing, silent, and barely perceptible. The air quivered. The tree seemed to absorb it, innocent, standing tall and still overhead. Matthew tensed and then abruptly whirled around.
‘Come to me!’ he raged. The clearing dulled to an unnatural stillness, but a leaf, falling to the earth, betrayed their presence. ‘Come to me!’
Five beings materialised. Thin strips of bark fell from the crowns of their heads and their skin was pale and flecked. They stood tall, their narrow heads at an angle, their bodies arched away as though each one longed to flee.
‘Where is she?’ he demanded.
Twitching and trembling, the faeries fought to resist his command. One clamped its jaws shut; one collapsed its elongated body to ground. Another strove to merge itself back to safety within branch, leaf, wood…
‘Enough!’ Matthew roared, tightening his will around them like a rope. He lashed them tight. You cannot escape.
Rose ran up beside him.
‘Hey, Dad? Is everything okay?’ Her smile was tight, though she held out her hand as if unconcerned. ‘I’ve got a thermos of iced tea,’ she was speaking quickly, the words tumbling in a rush. ‘Ben’s been carrying it, I know how much you like it, and it’s so hot here, and we have to go-’
�
��Quiet.’ Matthew grabbed her hand tightly. ‘We don’t have time for this. But,’ Matthew’s heart thudded, ‘look, Rosalind, look at them. You can see, I know you can.’
Rising to their true height, the faeries turned towards his daughter, their dark eyes glowing as they studied her.
Matthew waited, hoping that after all these years his talent, his gift, might be shared.
Rose dropped her hand with the thermos and turned her gaze pointedly upwards, her eyes wide. She didn’t move. Matthew could see she was breathing rapidly. The beings leaned closer. Abruptly Rose laughed. ‘Nope,’ she shook her head. ‘Nothing.’
Matthew turned away. Enough. Let his daughter close her mind if that was what she chose. There were more important matters to hand.
‘Ben,’ he signalled, and turned his attention back to the five faery beings.
‘Where is Ba Set?’ he demanded.
At once, with tight, awkward movements, each of the tree creatures gathered themselves and, in unison, turned and began to walk towards the entrance.
In the centre, Ben emptied the can first over the clumps of twigs and grasses at the foot of the trees. Working quickly, he circled the clearing, dousing the entire area in kerosene. The sharp stench of fuel cut the air. Ben stopped where he had started. Above him, a dozen nests spiralled down from the branches.
‘In the name of the Lord!’ cried Matthew.
Bowing his head, Ben struck a match to the woven mass of grasses, in an instant each one burst alight. Heat whipped up the slender trunk, so loud and scorching, it sounded as though the tree itself was roaring in pain.
Rose shrieked, whether in joy or terror, Matthew didn't know. He grabbed her hand and ran. Ben followed close on their heels. Squeezing his shoulder through the gap in the rock wall, Matthew caught a glimpse of the ash-grey face of a faery as it disappeared with its fellows into the trees. Behind in the clearing, a shriek erupted as a bolt of super heated air shot out of a giant, its crown ablaze, embers shooting metres in all directions.
The heat was already intense. Gripping his daughter’s hand tighter, he pulled her faster through the tightly spaced grove, and together they burst out into the open forest.
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