Beltane Page 18

  Chapter 16. Beltane

  Under different circumstances I might have appreciated the magnificent oak paneling, and the heavy roofing beams above our heads, as Lechkov marched me around the house to the entrance and in through the doors to the main hall. As it was I was filled with impotent fury. Now I knew what it felt like to be a turkey at Thanksgiving.

  We mounted a carved wooden staircase, our footsteps muffled by a thick runner of carpet. Rounding the corner we came face to face with Evening-suit Jem.

  “It’s alright Lechkov,” he said, with that sneering smile he’d given me earlier, “I’ll take her from here.”

  Lechkov hesitated, looking at him uncertainly.

  “The High Priestess wants to see her before the ceremony.” He stared the larger man down like an emperor would a slave, his blue eyes like chips of ice. “Do you want to be responsible for the delay?”

  Lechkov released me, and I began rubbing my arm where he’d almost squeezed it flat. Turning on his heel, he wobbled off back down the stairs like a rubber tank.

  Evil Jem reached out to take my arm, but I shook him off violently.

  “You won’t get away with this,” I hissed at him, “this is kidnapping. My friends know I left the village with you. My stepmother will have the police round here if I’m not back soon.”

  He stepped past me, and looked down the staircase. Seemingly satisfied with whatever it was he saw he turned back to me, winked, and whispered conspiratorially into my ear.

  “Then we’ll have to make sure we get you home as fast as possible!”

  I had no idea how to react, until a thought struck me. “Which Jem are you?” I looked at him more closely. His features were delicate, refined, without the slightly bloated appearance of his twin brother.

  He smiled tentatively. “The one you want me to be I hope. Lechkov never could tell us apart. Not when we are dressed alike at any rate. He locked me in my bedroom, but he doesn’t have a clue about the passage behind the tapestry that comes out in the kitchens. Come on”

  He tried to take my arm again and I slapped his hand away. I didn’t want to be touched by any Jem at all. He looked at me with a hurt expression, then nodded and pointed down the stairs. We hurried down them side by side, crossed the entrance hall and then stepped out into the garden.

  As we made our way past the arbor Jem whispered to me urgently.

  “I swear I had no idea Thea. I didn’t know what my brother or my mother were planning. If I had…”

  “What? I hissed back, “you would have told me everything? Just like you told me about your twin brother?”

  “I couldn’t. I’d promised.”

  “Or that your mother is.. what? High Priestess of a cult of black witches?”

  “Thea…I…”

  “Save it!”

  I didn’t want to hear his pathetic excuses. There wasn’t time and I wanted to save my breath for running. Shouts of alarm were already coming from the house, and the next instant Lechkov appeared on the terrace. His size didn’t seem to stop him from running, and running fast at that. He was powering down the stairs rapidly reducing the gap between us, as we sprinted away through the parked cars on the grass.

  “You go on!” Jem panted, “I’ll try to hold him off.”

  I kicked off my shoes and tore at my ballgown, sorry Rebecca, to try to make it easier to run in.

  Darting into the woodland which led down towards the great wall that surrounded the estate I was hoping against hope that I’d be able to climb in a dress. I didn’t dare turn to see if Lechkov was hot on my tail. The sounds of pursuit carried through the trees and I caught sight of flashes of torchlight strobing through the forest on either side of me; there must have been drivers waiting in some of those cars.

  Sucking air into my lungs in great gasps I charged through the undergrowth tripping on roots and tearing my dress still further on sharp branches as I forced my way past them. There was the roar of an engine, and then a slow thudding sound built and built until it became a whining buzz, like a chainsaw. Oh God! The helicopter!

  Gritting my teeth I burst out of the trees into a broad alley of grassland which ran alongside the wall. There would be no trees to help me climb over it and I’d be a sitting duck for anyone in the air, they’d be able to direct the hunters right to me. Trying to control my panic I dithered over which direction I should choose - left or right? A voice sounded in my head, right.

  I took its advice. I could see torches clearly now further down the alley and the hammering clatter of the helicopter was almost directly overhead, the beam of a floodlight illuminating the trees underneath it. It would be on me in a minute. Just as I was about to despair I realized that I was looking at a narrow gap in the wall. A vehicle of some kind must have come off the road and rammed it recently as there was metal debris and broken glass scattered around. Thank goodness nobody had had time to repair it as yet.

  Scrambling over a pile of shattered bricks and up into the gap I forced my body through, and then dropped down to the ground. A sharp pain stabbed through my ankle. I tried to put my weight on it, but jagged waves of agony shot through my leg. Hobbling as best I could I managed to cross the road without incident, and drop down into a dry ditch just in time.

  A beam of white illuminating the scene like daylight flashed over me and the sound of the helicopter became almost deafening. I prayed that the undergrowth in the ditch, and the green of my dress would be enough to camouflage me. My prayers appeared to be answered, as the helicopter banked and swung back over the road towards the estate grounds.

  Crawling out into the forest on the other side of the ditch I felt sure my ankle was broken, or at least badly sprained. It was throbbing and had already begun to swell. Although the helicopter had gone, I hadn’t thrown off everybody. I could hear voices on the other side of the wall from where I’d crossed over. No doubt they’d see the gap and realize it was the only place I could’ve gotten out. If they did I’d be an easy target. I could barely put any weight on my ankle let alone walk back to Baring.

  As I tried to think what to do a sudden noise from the bushes next to me made me realize it was too late. It was all over. I huddled on the ground waiting for the cry of triumph and for a hand to pull me from my hiding place.

  Instead I heard a snorting noise.

  Looking up I was astonished to see the white-coated pony standing in front of me. It gave a whinny and tossed its head playfully. Remembering an old saying about gift horses I slowly pulled myself to my feet, sucking in and suppressing a cry of pain as I did. The pony nuzzled me with its soft head. I took the opportunity to clutch its mane and haul myself onto its back.

  The pony barely stirred, it seemed content that I should ride it. Hearing voices on the road coming closer I clicked gently with my tongue, increased the pressure of my knees on the pony’s belly and it began to trot, and then to canter through the woods towards home.

  Although it wasn’t easy riding through the forest by the weak light of the moon the thrill of escaping from Draxton Manor gave it a special magic all of its own, particularly given the nature of my mysterious mount.

  The pony seemed to do most of the navigating itself and needed little help from me to bring us to the wooden fence at the back of Rose Cottage. I dismounted and leaned hard on the gate trying to protect my, now severely swollen, ankle.

  When I turned to offer my thanks to the pony it had already melted into the forest again. I didn’t have the strength to crawl along the garden path to the cottage, so seeing a light in the kitchen window I decided to let all of my pent up emotions go at once in a blood curdling cry for help.

  Rebekah came rushing out of the back door in her dressing gown, and within a matter of seconds I’d been carried into the cottage and laid on the couch. Making a very satisfying amount of fuss Rebekah insisted we call an ambulance. It was all I could do to get her to listen to what I had to tell her.

  I guess I should have realiz
ed how it would sound. Just picture it from her perspective if you will. I arrive back at the cottage late at night with a torn ballgown, and a suspected broken ankle, having ridden through the forest on a white horse, while escaping from an evil twin and being chased by a coven of witches. And why? Because I’m the daughter of a Goddess!

  The whole thing must have sounded completely crazy. Which is why I wasn’t really surprised that the first thing Rebekah did was get me a glass of water and a tranquilizer.

  “Here,” she said, “swallow this.”

  I held the pill in my hand. “If I take it will you promise to call the police?”

  “This isn’t a negotiation TT.”

  “I know,” I told her, “please?”

  I popped the pill into my mouth, and chugged it down with a swig of water. “Please!” I begged, I couldn’t take the chance that Circe or Lechkov or any of them would see Rebekah as a serious barrier to getting what they wanted. Namely me.

  She sighed heavily, and then nodded her head slowly in agreement. “If that’s really what you want darling. I’ll just get my mobile.”

  I flopped back on the sofa suddenly feeling completely exhausted. I hadn’t realized how pent up I’d been until Rebekah had finally agreed to call the police. As I lay back against the cushions something under the kitchen table caught my eye.

  I pushed myself up on one elbow so I could see it what it was. Lying on the floor was a pair of elegant black patent-leather high heeled shoes which looked as though they had been kicked off in a hurry. A dark patch of mud was stuck on the sole of one of them, and I could see traces of it on the kitchen floor.

  However it was what was lying on the table itself in plain sight which finally convinced me the thought forming in my head wasn’t another one of my delusional fantasies.

  I looked up as Rebekah stepped back into the kitchen holding her cellphone.

  “Don’t worry. They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  “Will they?” I asked her, staring pointedly at the table.

  Rebekah followed the direction of my eye-line. A Venetian carnival mask identical to those I’d seen the guests wearing at Draxton Hall lay discarded next to the tea pot. She gave a wry smile then looked back at me as if unsure how to respond before shrugging off her dressing gown, revealing the black velvet evening frock she had concealed beneath it.

  “It’s a pity you had to delay the party, particularly since you’re supposed to be the special guest. But everything’s under control now TT.”

  “Don’t you ever call me that again!” I spat the words at her, unable to control the terrible tearing rift that was going on inside me. Rebekah was a traitor? Dad’s Rebekah?.. My Rebekah?

  I tried to push myself up off the couch only to feel my head swimming with dizziness. I looked down at the water glass in my hand before dropping it. It smashed, scattering hundreds of glass fragments across the floor. They all seemed to be reflecting her face twisting it into a hideous grimace.

  Rebekah walked over to the window, pushed the curtains back and looked outside. I was struggling to speak. My words slurred as the drug she’d given me, the drug I’d been stupid enough to take myself, began to take effect.

  “You seduced my ffff father. It wwww.. It was you who killed him!

  “It’s too late for all that sentimental claptrap Thea. Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law. That’s the only maxim that means anything. We needed you here. The whole earth needs you to be here. It’s time to change things around once and for all”

  The sound of someone knocking at the door reverberated through my head which felt as though it had been wrapped in cotton wool. My sight was beginning to fail. Everything seemed to be spiraling into a long tunnel that was spinning and swirling around me like a top.

  When Rebekah came back into the kitchen she wasn’t alone. I’m pretty certain I saw Circe Masterson, and I think I saw Jem too though it’s hard to be sure since just as I recognized him his image split in two, and floated into the air and I was left with the sound of voices echoing through my head.

  I thought I heard someone say, “the getting of a child tonight will fulfill the prophecy, and his blood will usher the return of the Great Mother. Cybele. The time approaches.”

  Then I heard no more.

 

  Chapter 17. The eye

  When I regained consciousness I didn’t have to dream about the eye anymore. I could see it right in front of me every single morning. It stared in at me through the peephole in the padded cell that was my home for nearly nine months. What I’d been afraid of for so long had finally happened. I was a patient at the Lodge.

  The owner of the eye, my beloved stepmother Rebekah, made sure she kept a close watch on me. She wasn’t really watching me of course, she was watching over what was growing in me. My baby. The baby they were going to use to bring their evil Goddess back to life.

  It sounds incredible even as I write it, looking out of my window at the mountains around my current home. Fortunately I don’t really remember anything at all about the Beltane ritual. I’m glad, because what I imagine happened is bad enough.

  After it was all over Circe and her cronies were able to lock me up in the Lodge for reasons you’ve probably heard about; Doctor Masterson’s murder.

  I imagine you’ve already read or seen on TV that I was found in the grounds of Draxton Manor the following morning drenched in Doctor Masterson’s blood, and that he lay dead in the hall; his throat slit from ear to ear.

  The story they told the world was that I’d been completely obsessed with Circe’s son Jem. He had rejected me so I had broken into the house to find him. Encountering Doctor Masterson I’d supposedly given way to some psychotic fit, and killed him with a knife I’d picked up in the kitchens.

  There was no real trial as such; it all took place in a private hearing. The court simply signed the necessary papers, and were grateful that somebody actually wanted to take care of me, - just so long as I didn’t escape.

  Of course, as you already know from the same newspapers etc., that’s exactly what happened. I told you when I began writing this chronicle of my life so far, that I didn’t do what they say I did. The idea that I could harm that sad, gentle man who witnessed the day of my birth is sickening to me and I won’t rest until the people who are really responsible for it are brought to justice.

  I’m afraid he paid the ultimate price to make Circe’s twisted plan work, and that his life was sacrificed like the bull’s in the taurobolium ceremony Circe described to me at our first meeting. I have no idea what happened to Jem, I mean James, I should get used to using their real names I suppose, but I don’t doubt his horrible brother Jeremy was the one who ….. I can’t let myself think about any of this stuff too closely right now it’s too upsetting.

  One thing is certain I hate them both. I don’t care if James did try to help me get away. As far as I’m concerned he’s just as bad as his brother.

  In spite of everything my story isn’t over yet. The spinners are still spinning and the webs haven’t all been fully woven. I can’t tell you exactly how I got free from the Lodge, though I will as soon as it’s safe to do so.

  What I can tell you is that I’m somewhere safe, and that my child has been born; a beautiful baby boy. I can also promise you this much. I won’t let anyone or anything bring him to harm.

  ********

  Don’t miss the next installment of the Thea Hartsong Chronicles.

  The story continues in Land of the Fae, available to download soon.