The Devil's Serenade (16 page)

Hargest parted his thin lips and a foul stench of sulfur, like a hundred rotten eggs, sent bile washing up into my throat. A thin stream of vomit shot from my mouth and I coughed and choked. I wiped my mouth with the back of my trembling hand.

“The master has accepted the sacrifice. It shall be done. The girl shall live. For now.”

Aunt Charlotte’s voice was steady and firm. “The debt is being paid by another. One whose soul must be far more valuable to him.”

Hargest’s smile chilled every pore of my body. “Your son will live. The girl will live. You will leave the house and all your possessions to her. When you are gone, she will inherit Hargest House and all that remains.”

“She will never return. Never.”

“But we both know she will.”

There was a long silence. Hargest broke it. “The master will take your sacrifice.”

In front of me two of the tree spirits moved aside. The one in the center—the one who had touched me—began to glow. It started as a pale yellow light deep in the cluster of roots that formed its feet. As it began to burn orange, the other spirits began to chant.

A dark cloud formed around Hargest. His eyes flashed red and yellow flames, his face lengthened and great woody tendrils grew from his arms, legs and torso. They thickened, became branches, scorched black as charcoal. In contrast to the verdant tree spirits, he looked dead. And in that death, lurked evil.

Hargest slithered forward on mulched, rotten roots. He raised his disgusting skeletal branches and cradled the glowing tree spirit in a hideous parody of Klimt’s most famous masterpiece. The tree spirit struggled. It made no sound except for the rustling of its limbs. The contrast between it and the evil creature that held it captive couldn’t have been more pronounced. Pure good versus pure evil. Yes, I had feared the tree spirits in their natural form, but now, I could appreciate their true beauty, hidden deep within.

With mounting horror, I realized the spirit’s glow was waning. Hargest’s tree monster was sucking the life and soul out of his victim.

Aunt Charlotte was weeping. Tears streamed down my face too at the sight of the innocent, good spirit that had sacrificed itself for me, and for my aunt’s unknown son.

The glow was extinguished. Hargest dropped the cold, blackened, dead husk. It cracked and disintegrated into a cluster of dead twigs. The other tree spirits stood, unmoving.

Hargest was already transforming back into the man.

“This is not finished, Charlotte. It is merely…postponed.”

“Your master has taken a great and good soul. A supreme sacrifice. Surely that should sate even that demon’s foul appetites long after my niece has lived her life.”

Hargest’s lips curled in a grimace that became a grating, raucous laugh. “All those years ago you truly thought I selected you because I needed a housekeeper, when in truth, I had searched for you for decades; the woman who would bear my child, and provide my master with the souls he craved. You have done well. I could never have brought him such a prize as you have today.”

“It’s over.”

“The master will want nothing more from you other than you leave the house and contents to the girl. Fail to do that and you will hear from him again.”

“It shall be done.”

* * * * *

The vision vanished. Something snapped in my brain—like an elastic band stretched too tight. I was back in my own time, crouched on the living room floor, hugging my knees and rocking back and forth.

My muscles ached from sitting rigidly in one position for too long, but I barely noticed the cramping pain. My thoughts were all on the memory that had finally come back to me. Hargest had said I would return. Aunt Charlotte had left the house to me. She
knew
I would return. And now I was in mortal danger. The supreme sacrifice of the tree spirit had only sated the demon’s appetite for a time. It was coming back and, unlike my aunt, I had no bargaining tools.

I must get out of there. I had to run and never look back. I told myself Charlie must have gone without me. I had to escape.

I struggled to my feet and made my labored way to the door. Out in the hall, they were waiting for me. All my imaginary siblings.

Thelma put her hand out to me. “Come with us, Kelly. We’ll look after you.”

“But you’re not real. I made you up.”

“We’re here to keep you safe,” Sonia said.

A small hand tugged at my sleeve. Veronica looked up at me with her bright blue eyes. I took her hand in mine and felt warmth, as if from a real human being, not a product of my overactive imagination.

Tom led the way. Thelma and Sonia came next, then me, holding Veronica’s hand.

“Where’s Charlie?” I asked.

No answer.

In the kitchen, I drew back as Tom opened the cellar door.

“No, I can’t go down there. The tree…”

“It’s there to protect you, Kelly.” Thelma stroked my cheek. I recoiled. Despite what I had witnessed, my mind still wouldn’t allow me to accept that any of it was real. A part of me clung on to the forlorn hope that I was dreaming, having the longest, most frightening nightmare in the history of the world. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t have felt a warm, dry hand caress my face.

“I’m Maddie. My name’s Maddie. Kelly’s a name I called myself when I was with you.”

Tom chuckled. “You’re Kelly to us in this form.”

“I still can’t go down there.”

“But you must.” Veronica slid her hand out of mine. “It’s the only way you can be safe. The only way to protect you from
him
.”

“Who?” But I knew the answer before Thelma spoke it.

“Nathaniel Hargest. He has come for you as he said he would.”

“That’s why I need to get away from here. As far and as fast as possible.”

“It won’t be far enough or fast enough. He knows where you are. He will find you. This is the only way.”

I tried again. “Where’s Charlie?”

Tom lit a cigarette. Thelma frowned at him but said nothing. “He’s gone.”

“Gone? But his van’s still there.”

“See for yourself.”

I looked out of the kitchen window. My car stood outside. Alone.

Tom stood by my shoulder. “See? There’s just you and us.” He smiled.

Thelma beckoned to me. “Come on now, Kelly. You must go down to the cellar. You’ll be safe there.”

Her words sounded so final. Is this how it was all going to end? Not without a fight. “No. I’m leaving.”

I turned the key in the back door. Tom grabbed my hand and pulled it away. “No, Kelly. You can’t do that. Your aunt wouldn’t want that. She knew what had to be done. That is why she summoned us. To help you.”

Thelma was within a couple of feet of me and I had nowhere else to go. They had formed a semi-circle around me. Behind me was the sink—its cold steel hardness at my back.

She held out her hand to me and I shrank back from her.

“It’s time to go down.”

They simultaneously took hold of my arms and pulled my reluctant body toward the cellar door.

I struggled. I pushed back with all my strength, digging my heels into a floor I couldn’t grip. Veronica and Tom dragged one arm, Sonia and Thelma the other.

The odor of earthy wood and the sound of something rustling and dragging on the ground seeped under the door.

Tom opened it.

“
No!
” My scream tore through the air, so shrill it rang in my ears, but they ignored me. They pushed me onward. Still I dragged my heels. It was pitch black in there. They hadn’t switched on the light. Then I realized why it seemed even darker, as the first root wrapped itself around my arm.

“Let me go!”

Thelma gripped my arm tighter as the root secured its hold on me. “Let go, Maddie,” she said and I realized she had used my real name. “The tree will protect you and keep you from harm.”

She relinquished her hold on me to the tree. Another root snaked along my other arm. It squeezed my muscles like a blood pressure cuff.

I cried out, one continuous wail. Terror made me lose control and wetness dripped down my legs. My head buzzed. The roots pulled me down the steps. I half turned as Thelma let go my arm and I saw the four “siblings” grouped at the top of the stairs. Through my fear-misted eyes I watched them transform. Human features dissolved into bodies of smooth green bark. Hands and feet became long, slender branches. They became the tree spirits I had seen so recently. Their heads grew tall, crowned with brush and leaves, while from their backs, their wings stood proud.

They were there to protect me from an evil that terrified me so that my screams became raucous cries. But last time they had protected me, one of them had died. I couldn’t expect such a sacrifice this time. I had no idea what form their protection would take. I shut my eyes, only to open them again as roots brushed my face and wrapped themselves around it. Before I lost consciousness, “Serenade in Blue” wafted down to me.

* * * * *

The smell of damp earth hung all around me. It took a few moments before I remembered. I opened my eyes, terrified at what I would see. The dim light illuminated unfamiliar surroundings. I sat up. Around me, the walls—if you could call them that—were of bark and encircled the space I was sitting in. I rubbed my eyes. My throat stung, as if I was sickening from a cold or flu. All my screaming had probably damaged my vocal chords. A new fear clutched at me, my stomach contracted and I managed to turn my head away in time before a thin stream of bile projected from my mouth, soaking into the ground next to me and releasing a sour odor.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, but stopped halfway. In the shadows something moved.

“Hello, Maddie, my old friend.”

Another barrier dissolved in my head. A new memory played a film reel behind my eyes. A hot summer’s day down by the river, playing near the tree. I couldn’t have been more than about eight or nine. I’d made a daisy chain and a little boy a couple of years older than me placed it around my wrist. We both laughed. He tagged me and off we ran. Fast forward and a new memory played. The boy and me, older. That last summer. It had to be. By the tentacle tree. My first kiss. But darkness had shut out the sun. The birds had stopped singing.

The smile had frozen on the boy’s face. “Don’t turn around, Maddie. Don’t look behind you. Look at me. Look at me.”

But I had turned around. I had seen what he saw. A man, but not a man. Eight feet tall. Two glinting green eyes where the head should be, but where an elliptical mass of twisted bark perched on shoulders of intertwined branches that tapered into long, slender twigs. The creature’s mouth was a knot of wood that opened to reveal blackness within. The torso was formed from gnarled and twisted branches that extended into two distinct trunks, each covered with bark. As it shuffled forward, it trailed yet more branches, while roots concealed where feet should have been.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even cry out. I knew this thing couldn’t be there. But it was. The boy had seen it too. The memory stopped abruptly as if a reel of cine film had snapped. I knew who my companion was.

“Charlie. It was you, wasn’t it? All those years ago? You warned me about the… About Hargest.”

The figure moved out of the shadows. Incredibly, he was smiling.

“Hello again, Maddie.”

I struggled to my feet. “I didn’t remember any of it. Our childhood friendship. That last summer…”

He drew me to him for a comforting hug.

“When did you remember?” he asked.

“Just now. My memory of my sixteenth birthday has been coming back to me since yesterday, I think. I’m not sure. I’ve lost track of time. But I had a vision of Aunt Charlotte fending off Hargest…and the tree sprits protected me. One died…” My voice tailed away.

Charlie held me tighter. His heartbeat quickened. “When I first came to the house and you answered the door, you looked familiar, but I couldn’t place you. A few days ago, everything fell into place. The strange dreams I kept having all through my childhood. Occasionally even now. Dark dreams.”

A sudden fear gripped me. I pulled away so I could look into his eyes. “Why should you have dark dreams, Charlie? What haven’t you told me?”

He took a deep breath. “I’m her son. Your Aunt Charlotte’s. My father was Nathaniel Hargest.”

My mouth dropped open and I made no attempt to close it. Charlie looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but where we stood. But once started, he had to tell me everything.

“I found out a few days ago. I always knew I was adopted, but when I told my mother I was working for you, she broke down. I had never seen her sob like that. Not even when my father died. She told me about Hargest’s coven. How she and my father—the man I always called my father—had been his most loyal followers. That’s why Hargest gave me to them. Their loyalty was beyond question. She told me about the ancient demons that have haunted Priory St. Michael for centuries. The black dog that haunts the High Street, born of a she-devil and slave to Zebullas—the demon that Hargest and his coven worshiped. When the coven was disbanded, its members became disillusioned. The demon gave them nothing in return for their devotion. Only Hargest benefited—and he got the lot. Riches, power. Freedom from the poor upbringing he despised so much.”

“And Aunt Charlotte never found out where you were.”

“Hargest swore them to secrecy and threatened them with demonic revenge if they ever revealed my true identity. Even now, my mother’s scared she shouldn’t have told me. Soon after Hargest died, my father contracted cancer. He was given a few months to live. My mother was at her wits’ end and one day she wandered into the parish church, knelt down and prayed. The vicar saw her there. He prayed with her and she told me she had a vision. The stained glass window with the picture of St. Michael came alive. There, before her eyes, he slew the dragon. She fainted and when she came round, the vicar was holding her hand. She told him what she had seen and, although he didn’t tell her, she knew he’d seen the same vision as she had. A month later, my father was pronounced clear of the cancer that had stricken him. He died thirty-five years later.”

I swallowed. “So you weren’t raised as a devil worshiper?”