Authors: Peter Joison
‘Probably because he’s out cold,’ said Aunt Lani, ‘plus like I said, I’ve had a lot of experience with the power of a Ring. But let me magnify what I can feel for you.’
She knelt down next to the quietly snoring man and laid her hands on his chest. ‘Now focus on me girls. My, this takes me back. Remember doing things like this with us when you were little?’
The room went quiet. Ember knew the others were remembering Aunt Gay and Aunt Aura: the other two Aunts who had helped raise the girls.
Aunt Lani closed her eyes. ‘Oh yes. Feel it? Feel it?’
Ember did. And by the look on her sister’s faces they did too. It was the feeling of warm beds, old oaks and faraway thunderstorms. Of safety and protection. Its strength enveloped them like giant firm hands.
‘Oh my God,’ said Celeste.
Ember heard Chloe sob. ‘I feel so whole. So strong.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Ember.
Yes
. It was if their orchestra had been playing all these years without a percussion section, and
boom
, here it was. A massive deep beat that now infused and lifted all of their music.
Ember felt a strength, a surety of being that she had never felt before. She knew with this Ring by their side her Vordene would be stronger, and more resistant to Scather attack.
A rapid, loud knocking at the front door made the sisters jump.
‘Who? What? Why didn’t we feel them coming?’ asked Brooke.
‘We were kind of busy, Brooke,’ said Ember.
Celeste stood, faced the door and tendrilled. ‘It’s bloody Mrs Winslow.’
Brooke looked around at her sisters. ‘What? Now?’
‘Ember, Chloe, use your fells, see what she wants,’ said Celeste.
Ember did her mirror trick. She hunched over slightly and cricked her neck. Her fell was on. Chloe put on her fell of the Manor’s imaginary gardener and chauffeur. Out in the hall Ember flicked the switch for the outside lights and opened the door. There was nobody there. It was dark, and a dense mist made it hard to discern things even close to the house.
‘Oh hello, Mrs Ashton!’ came a voice over near the fountain. Old Mrs Winslow stepped out from behind the car. She was carrying two shopping bags. ‘I didn’t think you were home.’ Her jowls wobbled as she swallowed. Ember flinched. She looked like some giant frog.
The large woman held up one of the shopping bags and plodded to the bottom step. ‘I know you didn’t finish your shopping, after the, ah … unpleasantness at the supermarket. So I bought you some supplies.’
Ember frowned. Did something just move in one of the bags? ‘Ah, thank you, Mrs Winslow. That’s very kind of …’
‘Yes, yes, well my job here is almost done,’ said Mrs Winslow quickly. She looked around and waddled to the middle of the stony area. ‘I’m just going to put them down here alright?’
Ember didn’t know what the fat old woman was up to but it didn’t feel right. She hoped Celeste was ‘watching.’
Mrs Winslow stopped and put the handles of one bag over her arm. She produced a large knife from the other bag in her hand, raised the knife high and then slashed at the bottom of the bag hanging from her arm. Black runny mud immediately spilt out onto the ground, splashing the legs of the old woman. She didn’t seem to notice though, her eyes were bulging and terrible, and her mouth hung open.
‘What the hell,’ said Chloe.
Mrs Winslow’s voice was now a horrible gargle. ‘It’s time girls. You can drop your fells you know.’ She then reached into the other bag and took out a struggling white rabbit.
‘Oh shit!’ yelled Ember. ‘Everybody! Help! Now!’
‘Skorn! She’s raising Scathers!’ Chloe screamed.
Mrs Winslow raised the knife and said something unintelligible in her guttural voice and drove the knife into the rabbit’s stomach. The little animal let out a horrid high pitched scream, its legs jerked and it was still. The old lady held the bleeding rabbit over the mud puddle. Blood and steaming entrails gushed to the ground.
To Ember it all seemed to happen in slow motion. She could feel Celeste and Brooke burst out the front door just as the blood from the butchered animal hit the swampy mud. A hole about four feet across appeared where the mud had been and a thick swirling column of blackness rose from its depths. A hot blast of fetid air hit the girls.
‘Everyone!’ yelled Celeste, ‘Destroy her!’
The four sisters raised their hands, channelling each other’s energy, and when Celeste said ‘Now!’ they let loose. A white sphere of lightning surged from the girls on the steps and in an instant slammed into Mrs Winslow. Just before the Skorn-woman exploded, Ember was sure she saw her laughing.
But it was too late. Black, flying wraiths rose from the pit, with eyes like dying stars and bodies of snaking, glossy cords. Scathers!
The four sisters stepped out onto the gravel of the drive and held hands for added strength. They formed another swirling ball of bright white-blue plasma in front of them, and sent it blasting through the air. It hit the rising nightmare column in an intense explosion. It must have destroyed dozens of Scathers, but more were soaring out of the hole every second.
A small orange blast hit the Scathers. Celeste looked around and yelled, ‘Get back inside, Aunt Lani!’
In answer Lani stepped around the girls and raised her hands. ‘This is for my sisters, you bastards!’ Another orange ball of sparkling plasma hit the swirling blackness and destroyed one or two in a shower of sparks, but some separated from the column, and three or four flew at the women.
The girls couldn’t send another blast as their aunt stood in front of them. Ember screamed and saw the Scathers envelope her aunt. The blackness swirled around Lani, and her body jerked in pain. They had to do something quickly, but plasma balls were no good. Aunt Lani would be struck as well.
‘Brooke! Use water!’ Ember yelled.
Brooke raised her hands and a torrent of water fell from the sky. It hit Aunt Lani, and as Ember had hoped, washed the Scathers from her. Celeste and Chloe were knocked off their feet in the deluge. Ember wanted to rush to her aunt’s aid but more Scathers had separated from the column and came straight at the girls. Ember looked around. It looked bad. Without the power of the five—of a complete Vordene—they were toast. Through the shrieking, swirling mass of Scathers, Ember saw Skye at the top of the steps hugging the door.
‘Skye! Oh my God, we need you. We need your help, Skye!’ But with terror Ember saw Skye turn and run back into the house. Aunt Lani was a few feet away, drenched and unmoving. Celeste was on her feet again, Chloe still on her knees, and Brooke threw small plasma balls at the circling Scathers. Ember used her fire powers to send flaming bursts at the seething mass and took out a couple of the creatures, but more were coming, encircling the girls in a tornado of wailing death.
This is it. We’re done for. We’ve lost.
*
Turner knew someone was trying to wake him. He also knew his head hurt like hell and he wanted nothing more than to be left alone so he could die on his own terms.
More shaking. Turner kept his eyes closed.
‘Come … come on please. They
need
us.’
It was a little girl’s voice, and even in the state he was in Turner could sense her urgency. Blinking, he opened his eyes. It
was
a girl. And he had no idea where he was.
‘Where …’ he began.
From nearby Turner could hear horrible shrieking, loud bangs, and then a woman’s scream. He sat up. Definitely a woman’s scream. His head pounded in his ears, his mouth had never felt drier, but something bad was happening here.
The girl, she couldn’t be more than ten, Turner thought, grabbed his hand and tugged. ‘We need you, Ring.’
Ring? Turner stood up and wished he hadn’t.
‘Come on, this way.’ The girl yanked at his hand. He walked with her to the door. He was in a large old house, and now in the front hall he could hear the calamity even louder. He let go of the girl’s hand and walked to the front door. Turner wasn’t prepared for what he saw in front of him. Black hell creatures were screeching and flying around in circles. Horrible things, with teeth and wings which seemed to appear randomly, only to disappear into the folds of their shiny hides. Turner’s stomach clenched; he was infused with terror, and felt like running away. What the hell was going on? Then he saw the women. The same ones … that’s right … he had frozen at the park. Tesco girl! She was in trouble.
‘Let’s do this,’ said a voice at his shoulder.
He turned to see a young woman, with wavy hair the colour of snow and bright rich-blue eyes. He had no time to wonder where the little girl had gone before the woman grabbed his hand and pulled him down the stairs into the maelstrom, straight into the wheeling black creatures. But incredibly, as they got closer the swirling mass of evil flew apart, shrieking as they went.
Turner had no idea what was happening, but wanted no part in it. He tried pulling his hand from the woman’s, but now the other women turned as they approached. Turner saw shock on all their faces, and they took the white haired woman into their arms, hugging fiercely. He knew something immense was happening here but was totally clueless as to what it was. The five girls then drew apart from each other and enveloped Turner.
‘Stay within us,’ yelled Tesco girl. Turner saw the still circling black creatures, and although he wished he was somewhere else—anywhere else—he felt an intense
rightness
with the arms of these women around him. ‘Stay within us.’ It was probably the most amazing thing any girl had ever said to him.
‘Oh God! Do you feel it?’ said the young woman with the blonde hair and blue streak.
Various yells of ‘Yes!’ and ‘You bet!’ were the answer. Turner could feel their power, it infused him and made him feel like a mountain. It burst like a super-nova through his being. He couldn’t help himself, he raised his arms and bellowed like King Kong, letting loose a scream which felt as if it came from the Earth’s core itself.
‘Yes! Now! Now!’ yelled one of the girls.
The effect was immediate and staggering. A huge sphere of fierce blue-white lightning erupted from the group, hitting, and sparking through the flying creatures. The shockwave hurled them all away, some hitting the house, others flung out into the dark fields or into trees. And wherever they fell, they died, and disappeared in black flashes. Turner blinked. They were gone—all gone.
In the sudden silence one of the girls said, ‘Just like that …’
‘Let’s close the gate girls,’ said the blue-streak girl.
Still encircling Turner, the girls held hands. He had the feeling of someone tying string and pulling the knot tight around him. Turner looked out across someone’s shoulder to see a large older woman lying motionless on the ground. Beyond her a black pit shrunk to a pinpoint and disappeared.
And that seemed to be the end of all the commotion. The girls immediately left Turner and rushed to the side of the fallen woman.
‘She’s alive!’ cried one.
‘Let’s get her inside.’
The five girls hurried by Turner with a floating woman between them. After what he had just been through, this should not have been a surprise. But he stared open mouthed as the horizontal woman and the girls disappeared into the house. He stood and faced the front door, the screams from the monsters still echoing in his head. His sudden power gone, Turner’s shoulders slumped. He had no idea where he was, who these young magic women were, who the old lady was or … anything. Like coming down from the greatest sugar high ever, Turner’s legs gave way under him and he sat down on the wet stones.
Head down, the mist slowly seeping through his clothes, he had almost fallen asleep, until a gentle hand on his shoulder roused him.
‘Let’s get you to bed too, hero,’ said Tesco girl.
*
It was 3 am. Brooke had waited until she felt the others fall asleep, slipped a dressing gown over her pyjamas, put on her slippers, and crept down the stairs and out the front door. Now on her knees on the gravel driveway in front of the house, she ignored the cold bite on her fingers and cheeks, and swept the light of a small torch over the stones, bending occasionally for a closer look. Nothing seemed to be left from the incident just hours before. The Skorn woman, her bag, all those Scathers, the gate … all gone. Mother Earth sure did a great job at cleaning up after herself.
Her head snapped up when she felt the man in the front room rouse momentarily before he slid back into sleep. Brooke grit her teeth and frowned at the front window. Yeah, sleepy time …
hero
.
Lying in bed earlier, she had almost decided to fill his lungs with water; drown him from the inside. It would be easy to do, even from her bed. But the others would guess it was her. Finally another idea had come to her, something safer … for her at least.
The torch beam caught a flash of black muck between the gravel. There! She took a small plastic container from her dressing gown pocket, and using a stick, scraped the muck into the box. She held the light to it and slowly lowered her finger into the container. Her finger barely touched the muck, but it was enough for her to gasp, and pull her arm back quickly. Her whole body gave an involuntary shudder. Yes, this was it. A tiny dollop, about a teaspoon’s worth, of the mud the Skorn had used to open the gate. And it was still infused with its power.
Brooke stood, her hair and clothes now dappled in a covering of glistening condensation. She sat down on the front steps, and peered into the container. For a moment she wondered whether she should go through with this. But she looked over her shoulder and thought again about the man.
Clenching her jaw tightly, she drove her index finger into the mud. With a jerk her body went stiff and her eyes rolled back in her head. Immediately her mind was transported to the Grimshade, the hell-like home of the Scathers. She could feel the heat, hear the noise, but thankfully, the feelings weren’t accompanied by any vision. Brooke imagined the guy’s house. She, Celeste and Ember had stood out front of it for a minute or two when they had followed his vapour trail. She held onto the picture of the house and sent a tendril from it into the Grimshade and tried to latch onto some Scathers. She frowned. She seemed to be groping in the dark. Come on, it shouldn’t be this hard to find a Scather in the Grimshade.