B00JX4CVBU EBOK (7 page)

There! She had something. 

Scathers. A bunch of … wait, no … it was something else. In her mind Brooke could see faces, hands, eyes. And then the eyes opened. Their gaze burning directly into Brooke’s mind. Terror raged through her. Forgetting the tendril, she flew from the horror. On the step her body heaved forward. The container dropped from her hands onto the ground. The link was broken and she was back. 

Brooke shook with the cold and the shock; her body racked with a violent quivering. She had no idea what that thing in the Grimshade had been, but it was wrong. Evil. But that’s what she was after, wasn’t it? A little bit of evil. She thought that perhaps she had just imagined the faces and eyes. Her shaking subsided slowly. There were only Scathers in the Grimshade, weren’t there?

She retrieved the container from the ground. And tucked it into her dressing gown. Quietly she made her way back into the house, and slowly opened the door to the front room. Unwilling to chance the torch, she waited a moment for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. The man still slept. Big night out, hey mate? 

And now for the second part. Brooke crouched down beside the man. This close she could smell the alcohol on him. God he was gross. Brooke closed her eyes and dived into her mind. She imagined a hot shower, how warm, how refreshing. She imagined pouring hot water into a cup and making a cup of tea. Mm, wonderful tea. She imagined a glass of water beside her bed. Life-giving water. 

Opening her eyes she held her right hand in front of her face. It was hard to see, but she knew her hand glistened with water. She reached out and touched the sleeping man’s forehead with a damp finger. 

‘Home,’ she whispered. ‘Home. The water of home. You need to return. Go back. Away from the strange. Back to the known. Home.’

The man stirred, but did not waken. Brooke rose and within a moment was gone from the room, running quietly back to her bed.

CHAPTER FOUR

T
URNER
’
S
PHONE
WOKE
him just after 7 am. He was still in the front room, still in his clothes, laying on the old red sofa. Now the room was lit with sunlight, he could see he was in a very old house. The walls were made from stone, and looked thick. There was a large fireplace against one wall, with a child’s painting of a unicorn above it.

He yawned, removed the phone from his pocket, and squinted at the name on the screen.

‘Derek.’

The voice on the other end sounded slow and hoarse. ‘Hi mate. You’re alive then? Good. Just making sure. Sorry to call so early.’

‘That’s OK. Where are you, Derek?’

‘In the shop. Don’t remember getting here though. Woke up with my head on a computer and a sheet of bubble wrap over me. Quite warm actually. Had to get up to take a leak, so I thought I make sure you made it back OK, that you didn’t end up in the nick or a ditch somewhere.’

‘Yeah, no, yeah I’m fine. Fine thanks. All good.’

‘Good to hear. Good to hear. OK then. I’m going up to bed. Will probably be there for the next week.’

‘Alright then. Thanks for checking up on me.’

‘No problemo, matey. Good luck with your hangover. Bye.’

Turner said goodbye to his friend and sat up on the sofa. Hangover? Yes, he really should be feeling like crap, but for the life of him he felt fine. Better than fine really. He felt strong, alert and
substantial
. 

But God his mouth was dry. His mind was full of images of his childhood home in London. Long baths. Playing with the garden hose on hot summer days. He hadn’t thought of his childhood like that in a long time. Home. He shook his head, trying to shake the cobwebs. He ought to get home. Call a cab. 

He still had his phone in his hand, and turned it on to call a taxi, when his head was filled with the overwhelming feeling of expansion. He felt his mind stretching out, along threads, and realised with awe he could sense the other people in the house. Actually
feel
them. There was someone a few rooms away from him, awake and moving, two asleep upstairs, and another person upstairs moving around. This, he knew, was the Tesco girl; he could sense her spark, her fieriness. His mouth hung open in a huge grin. This was amazing. Amazing but mystifying. He felt like he had stepped into a weird science fiction movie. He remembered seeing the girls in the park last night, remembered being woken by the little girl, and … those things! 

He really needed to find out what was going on. And where he was. But first he
really
needed to find a toilet. 

He put on his shoes, and walked through the entrance hall. He wandered past the staircase and after a short hall turned right into a bright kitchen. An old wooden table stood directly in front of him, beyond that against the far wall, cabinets, a stove and a sink. Most of it looked old and well worn, except for a new looking fridge. 

As he had already discerned, there was somebody at the sink; a woman with her back to him, dressed in a purple silk dressing gown.

‘Ring!’ she said without turning around. ‘I’ll be right with you.’

Turner had been willing to believe last night had been a terrible alcohol-fuelled nightmare but he recognised this woman. Her snow-white wavy hair gave her away. It was the same young woman who had grabbed his hand at the front door, and led him into that … horror.

She finished at the sink, crossed the kitchen to Turner and hugged him. ‘It’s so good to finally have you here.’ 

She pulled back and looked at him. He must have looked as confused as he felt because she said, ‘I’m Skye by the way. We met last night.’

‘At the door. Yes, I remember.’

‘Mm, yes. And before. I was the one who woke you up. And you could say you kind of woke me up as well.’

Turner frowned. ‘A little girl woke me …’

Skye’s incredibly blue eyes sparkled, and she cocked her head to one side.

‘You? You were the little girl?’

‘She was,’ came a voice from behind Turner, ‘until you bought her back.’

Turner didn’t need to turn to know it was Tesco girl. But when he did turn, his mind did a little flip. It had only been two days ago when he’d first seen this young woman in the Fruit & Veg Mart, and now here she was in front of him dressed in long red pyjamas and fluffy slippers. She crossed the room and gave Skye a long embrace.

‘It’s so good to have you back, Skye. I missed you so much.’

Turner was confused. ‘I brought her back? From what? How?’

Tesco girl turned and gave Turner a hug. Turner could feel her pressing into him. She was comfortable and warm. 

‘With your power, you ninny,’ she said into his shoulder. ‘Can’t you feel it? I can.’ She drew back and looked into his eyes. ‘I’m so glad you’re not a monster.’

Monster? Turner had no idea what she was talking about. She stuck out her hand and said, ‘I’m Ember by the way. And I don’t even know your name.’ Her eyes were dancing orange jewels.

Tuner had to tear his gaze from her eyes to her outstretched hand, and gave it a quick shake. ‘Uh, Hi. Turner. I mean hi, Ember … I’m Turner. Turner Conlin.’

‘Leave him be, Em,’ said Skye and handed Turner a large glass of water. ‘He’s obviously completely muddled.’

Turner took the drink in both hands. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’ He drank the whole glass in seconds and said, ‘Muddled? I’ve got some sort of super powers. I saw black, slimy, flying creatures from hell with my own eyes, and I’m in the house of five beautiful women. So yeah, kind of muddled. Or dreaming.’ He handed the glass back to Skye.

‘You think you’re dreaming?’ said Skye, ‘Yesterday I was an eight year old mute girl. And today …’ She spread her arms wide and looked down at her body. ‘Today, I’ve got boobs again!’

Ember laughed at Skye and then addressed Turner. ‘You’re not dreaming, Turner. Over breakfast we’ll answer some of your questions, but for now I’ll show where you can have a shower, because … hmm. How do I say this delicately? You kind of stink.’

Turner smelled his armpit. ‘Ugh. Sorry.’

‘Yeah, real delicate, Em,’ said Skye.

‘But listen,’ said Turner. ‘Maybe I can have my shower at my place. You know, since you probably don’t need me any longer. Can I get someone to give me a lift home?’

The girls looked at each other and frowned. Skye went to say something but Ember held up her hand. Turner was unprepared for the intensity of her gaze.

‘We … don’t you … aren’t you at least a bit bloody interested in who we are?’ She poked him in the chest. ‘Who you are?’

Skye placed her hand on Ember’s arm and said gently, ‘Em, he doesn’t know anything about us. And he kind of got thrown in the deep end with the Scathers. If I were him, I’d want to go home too.’

Ember was breathing heavily, her fists clenched. To Turner it looked like she wanted to throw a punch at him. But after what he’d seen at the supermarket and last night, he was sure he didn’t want to be on the wrong side of one of this girl’s punches.

‘Listen. Ember? Look, I’m sorry. I’ll stay for breakfast, OK? I am curious. I’m just …’ he trailed off.

‘What?’ said Ember. ‘You’re just what? Scared?’ She searched Turner’s eyes, he could feel his face reddening, but didn’t say anything. She waited for a few heartbeats before saying, ‘We didn’t get a human Ring, Skye. We got a chicken one.’ She grabbed handfuls of her hair and stalked from the room. ‘A chicken-shit one!’ came her voice from the hall.

Turner was tense and embarrassed. He felt a hand on his arm, and with it a slight feeling of stillness ran through him. He took a couple of deep breaths.

‘Don’t worry about Ember,’ said Skye. ‘She’ll calm down. If she doesn’t burn the house down first that is. How about you at least stay for breakfast, and learn a bit more about us?’ When Turner nodded, she added, ‘Come on, I’ll show you where you can shower.’

*

Turner had returned from the shower wearing the same clothes. If nothing else he needed to go home to change. He helped Skye take some toast, muffins, juice, plates and glasses to the table in the sunroom. The glass room was bright, and large enough for a table and eight chairs. Turner took a moment to look out at the manicured lawns and winding garden paths. 

Despite himself he liked this place, wherever it was. He knew he was in an old house, a small castle or manor house, but he had no idea where. Finding out was high on his list of questions to ask. But those creatures from last night! They were intense. Turner was unsure if he wanted anything to do with people who dealt with such things. I’m a bloody programmer for Christ’s sake, he thought.

Turner was still staring out of the sunroom windows when he felt Ember come up behind him. He had to admit these powers were pretty cool. He turned to face her.

‘Look, I’m sorry,’ they both said at the same time. This made them laugh.

‘I
am
sorry though,’ said Ember. ‘I flew off the handle. I think we all need to give each other some time to process things.’

Turner smiled gratefully. He want to say how he thought time was a good idea. Maybe a year or two to think things over would be good. But instead said, ‘That’s OK. Thanks.’

Turner, Skye and Ember had already started eating when they were joined by two of the other girls. The girl with the blue streak in her blonde hair walked up to Turner and held out her hand. ‘I’m Celeste. I still don’t know what to make of you, but thank you for your help last night.’

Turner saw Ember and Skye share a smile. He put down the muffin he’d been eating and shook her hand. ‘Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Turner.’

Celeste walked around Turner and sat down. The other young woman sat down on the other side of the table, and glanced at Turner briefly. ‘I’m Brooke.’

‘Brooke,’ said Ember, ‘you could be nicer. He could freeze you, you know.’

Brooke reached for the juice. She squinted at Turner. ‘I’m big on revenge.’

Celeste nodded. ‘She is too. Remember when she thought we’d forgotten her birthday?’

Ember winced. ‘Frogs in our beds.’

‘
Lots
of frogs,’ said Brooke with a twinkle in her eye.

Turner looked from one to another. He felt like the new kid in class.

‘Hey, where’s your lumps?’ asked Skye pointing to her own forehead.

Turner rubbed his head. ‘They were gone when I got up. And no hangover either.’

‘Power of the Ring,’ said Celeste softly.

Turner squirmed under the gaze of the four girls. ‘Uh, where’s the other one?’ he asked, changing the subject. He remembered an Indian-looking girl from the last night. ‘Aren’t there five of you?’

Ember swallowed her mouthful of muffin and jam before answering. ‘Chloe spent the night with Aunt Lani out in the chapel. Chloe’s a healer. Aunt Lani might take a few days to recover, but
physically
she seems alright.’

 Turner looked at Ember, then the other girls. ‘So I guess I should ask some questions?’

‘Ask away, Turner,’ said Celeste, ‘if you’re really our Ring, there’s nothing we can’t share with you.’

Turner took a sip of juice. ‘First off, where are we?’

Ember laughed. ‘Of course. You were unconscious when we brought you here. You’re in Wickerwell Manor, about five kilometres east of Wilby.’

Turner nodded. ‘And, this is a biggie … you girls are witches, right?’

There was silence around the table. Skye looked down at her plate, Ember and Celeste looked up at the ceiling and Brooke looked straight at Turner and made a little growling sound.

‘Down, Brooke, there’s a good girl,’ said Ember. ‘We’re not witches, Turner. Witches are a joke to us. Really. We laugh out loud at witches on the telly, in books and movies.’

‘So what are …?’

Celeste interrupted. ‘We are a Vordene. Five cousins or second or third cousins, brought up together as sisters by five other women who were Vordene before us.’ 

‘Uh … right,’ said Turner slowly.

Celeste continued, ‘One way to think of the Vordene is to picture a pentagram. Of course the pentagram is one of the modern myths of witches, but based on folk tales and half-truths of the Vordene. Magic, flying, pentagrams, familiars, potions are just echoes of truths. Each of us girls is an elemental force: spirit, water, fire, air and earth. Five elements, which can be drawn as five points of a star.’