The Wind of Southmore (21 page)

“
Open up, old man. I know they’re in there.”

Alice
looked at Arlen, startled. “It’s Aunt Maud.”

The small
company was silent for a few moments as the frenzied pounding
continued, and Mac finally dragged himself up,
falteringly.

“
I’ll deal with her,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Robbie, go
with the girls to the cave. That’s the safest place right
now.”

“
There is no cave,” Arlen turned to face him, and her voice was
broken. “Not any more.”

Mac
looked searchingly at her, his eyes once again keen and blue. “Then
you will know best which path to follow,” he said softly. “For I
cannot help you now.” They stared at each other for a moment, as if
some silent conversation were taking place between them, and then
Arlen marched deliberately to the door and opened it
wide.

The
thunder cracked outside in a terrifying roar, and Aunt Maud was
illuminated in the silver glow of lightning, her face wild and
triumphant, her greying hair loose and streaming behind her in the
wind. But it was her eyes that frightened Alice most, eyes which
seemed to stare straight through them and beyond them to some other
purpose, eyes tinted with an unearthly reddish glow.

“
Arlen? Arlen, what are you doing?” Alice ran to her quickly
and tried to pull her back.

“
I’m seeing it through!” Arlen cried with a strange laugh, and
her voice was high and unnatural. “Fulfilling our destiny – isn’t
that what we’re supposed to be doing? Isn’t that what we’re here
for?” and she stared defiantly at Aunt Maud, her eyes glistening
with challenge. Her aunt seemed confused suddenly, and now the
lightning had ceased she once again appeared to fade back into the
drab grey woman they had known before. Still, when she reached a
hand out for each of them her grip was like cold iron, and, without
a word to Mac, she marched them along the pier and through the
village and back onto the Beach Road.

“
All this trouble,” she muttered to herself. “What a mess
they’ve made. And we could have done it at the beginning. Do you
hear me, you two? Putting up with you both running wild for this
long, and especially
you
,” and she twisted Arlen round towards her, her face so close
that Arlen could smell her sour breath, and then she raised her
hand to deliver such a terrific slap that Alice could feel the
vibration on her own skin. Fury overtook her and she lunged at Aunt
Maud, only to receive the same harsh belt as her sister. “That’s
right. There
are
two of you now. All those years – all those years wasted –
keeping house for my precious sister and her family, a dumping
ground, that’s all. I should have taken you out when the pair of
you were first together – I knew it – I told him so. But he wanted
to wait – he wanted to test you. I told him there’d be nothing to
worry about, and I kept you safe and out of the way of the wailers,
as he asked. But you wouldn’t listen. You
never listen
,” and she shook Arlen
like a rag doll with one hand, keeping Alice firmly at bay in the
other with a strength that seemed not her own.

“
Well, now my
precious
nieces, we will find out what you’re really made
of. The prize capture – what he wanted all along. Tonight will be
the real test and I – ” her voice dropped suddenly and her face
took on a wandering expression. “I will have peace.”

By this
time they had turned off the Beach Road and onto the sand, picking
their way through the rubble of the previous night towards the
circle. Aunt Maud dragged them ruthlessly across the sand to the
water’s edge, and the wind seemed to rise on a crescendo and the
waves hurl and crash to the shore as she held their hands high and
called to the dark water. “Penvynne! I have brought them. The pair.
The gems. Penvynne! Do as you will!” and Alice suddenly found her
hand released, red and throbbing, as Aunt Maud cried and fell
suddenly, and Robbie appeared behind her, fierce and shaking and
armed with an old sword from his grandfather’s
collection.

“
That’s it – come on!” Robbie cried, extending his hands as the
waves roared in fury and Alice turned. But Arlen stood still,
staring at the water.

“
Arlen – come on,” Alice tugged at her frantically. “What’s
wrong?”

“
It will never be finished,” Arlen replied dully, after a few
moments. “We have to finish it. I can’t do it on my own. Promise me
you’ll come for me. Don’t leave me this time.” And it seemed once
again that Imogen stood before her, as if in a mirror, and beckoned
her forward.

“
What do you mean?” Alice’s eyes grew black, and she seized her
twin by the shoulders, terrified by the blank expression that
appeared in her eyes.

“
One went forward, one stayed back,” Arlen said softly. “We
have to face him. Just promise me you’ll come.”

“
I promise, but I – ” and she stopped, for Arlen, Arlen as she
knew her, was gone. Her shell crumbled into the sand, and Robbie
picked her up gently, her eyes wide and staring, and was preparing
to carry her back when Alice stopped him.

“
No – no, leave her! She has to do this,” and her voice was raw
and ragged as she held her charm firmly between her fingers, and
waited.

The way
was dark and smooth. The waters had seemed to part for her, and she
was making her way up the cool sand within green glass walls,
towards the pinpoint of red light that flickered before her. All
was calm and silent. Even the wind had ceased, and the miserable
cries of his victims were hushed. The anguish that had torn through
her – that Isobel had left her, that Isobel had chosen, and she had
not been the choice – had dulled, and she felt cold and
passionless. She seemed to have seen this before; he had called to
her several times already, as if showing her the way, and she was
not surprised when she found herself in the round, dark room,
littered with ancient writings and archaic scientific instruments,
like a replica of the room in which he had worked with her ancestor
centuries ago. In an old tarnished mirror standing opposite she
could see herself, and her image was decked in the flowing hair and
jewels and old fashioned dress of Imogen, who had gone
before.

“
You have come.”

The voice
seemed to issue from her own head rather than from a real voice
outside it, and it was soft and blurred, the words bleeding and
merging into each other like a snake’s hiss. His back was towards
her.

“
I have,” she answered steadily, stealing glances around the
small space, not trusting him. She had felt that she would know
what to do when the time came, that the moment and action would hit
her like a ray of light from above, but she wasn’t so sure now. She
had only herself to rely on.

“
I have waited for you,” the voice came sidling through her
mind once again. “For many years I have waited, patiently, and I
have watched carefully, from the moment that your mother abandoned
you. You must have known from that, that you were destined for
something else.”

He’s just
trying to disarm me, Arlen thought to herself, momentarily taken
off guard by the mention of her mother. She knew he had said it on
purpose, and yet she couldn’t check the rising, helpless feeling of
anger that rose in her whenever she was reminded of the woman who
had left her. Her mother. Isobel. What was wrong with
her?

“
That’s right,” the voice explored the corners of her brain in
a soft, unctuous murmur, and she furiously sought to stamp it out.
“That’s right. Why fight it? You are right to feel as you do. So
many people think only of themselves. So many take advantage. And
what are you left with? An anger you cannot control. Feelings of
disillusionment, helplessness, abandonment. I found this out many
years ago, long before your time. I had hoped that Imogen would
help me to realise my dream, as her father did, before he stupidly
lost courage. But Imogen was not as strong as you, Arlen,” and the
words slid, thick and slimy, like a snake belly, filling her brain.
“You are stronger. You can help me. It’s what Penmorven wanted to
do, all those years ago, centuries ago, before he lost the way.
Give people their dreams, indulge their fantasies, find the truth.
They cling to me, even now, for fulfilment.”

“
You’ve stolen their dreams,” Arlen answered, shaking at the
sound of her own voice which rang clearly in the swirling black
walls around her, throbbing inside her own head like an amplifier.
“You’ve taken their souls. Conned them. You’re a thief.”

“
I am a guide. Oh Arlen, can you not see the future? The power
in people’s minds, the yearning in their souls? And yet they don’t
really know what they want. To give them the way – ”

“
The way to death,” Arlen replied, scornfully.

“
And it’s so much better out there?” the voice continued,
smooth and seductive. “A world of twisted paths and blind hopes and
sure disappointment at the end. It’s better there? At least, here,
they
know
. They do
not have the misery of endless hoping, constant pursuing, a
lifetime of broken dreams, for nothing at the end. They come to
me.”

“
And you betray them.”

“
I give them what they want. Their dreams. Do you not know,
child, that to live in dreams
is
nothing but a slow death?” He turned then, and his
face was sharp and grey, his hard eyes holding her gaze like
magnets, drilling into her soul. He held his hand towards her, long
and bony, his fingernails pointed and sharp. “Look at the ruby. See
how it winks and shines. Magical. Can you blame them for choosing
its brightness?”

“
For what?” Arlen asked, bitterly. “An endless
prison?”

“
A prison of their own choosing. Their desires.” He smiled, and
it was like a shark grinning. “These things don’t come for free,
you know. Look, child.”

And the
jewel winked and glittered before her, and she felt herself flying
on outspread wings, away, away from Southmore forever, to a place
where she had no history and no destiny, a place where she was just
– herself.

“
You are tempted, child.” She felt the words slither softly
within her. “Even you are tempted. And why shouldn’t you be? You,
who have been imprisoned here for so long, the remnant of a
decaying family, living in a dilapidated castle. Their time has
long gone, and they have left you mouldering in a open grave. Even
your sister has been to places you can never see from here. Why
you, Arlen? Why always you?”

Arlen was
shaking now. Before her Penvynne seemed to swell, his granite frame
contending with the flowing, sliding tentacles that grew from him
like a huge underwater spider, an octopus, beast of the deep, hard
grey eyes unblinking as the ruby winked and beckoned.

“
Just imagine, Arlen, if we had the pearls. Penmorven was right
to try and separate them, albeit for the wrong reason. Stupid man,
didn’t he know that the goodness weakened it. Separating them only
allowed the darkness to feel its strength. Strength is what you
need in this world, Arlen. Without it you are – left
behind.”

Arlen was
having difficulty breathing, as if she had suddenly realised how
small the enclosed space was, with the sea pounding mercilessly
overhead, and the tentacles coiling around her brain with their
soft suggestions.

Left
behind. She was always left behind. First her parents, and then
Aunt Maud, and even Alice hadn’t offered to come with her, she
thought, forgetting Alice’s promise. Just like Isobel. Just like
Isobel, all those years before, thinking more of herself and her
work than her own twin. The mirror before her cracked, and her
image splintered into a million fragments. She could feel the hard
smoothness of the black pearl in her pocket, resting against her
hip.

“
Yes – yes, child,” the voice moved within her again. “You have
chosen the stone of importance. It will give you all you want. Let
me have it, and I will help you. You’ll never be alone again.
You’ll be mine.”

Arlen’s
hand was in her pocket. She could feel the power of the stone
course through her like electricity, humming and vibrating in her
hand. She could not release herself to it. He was there, inside her
mind – he would find it.

“
That’s right. That’s right, child,” came the voice. “Abandon
yourself to it.”

Abandon,
abandon, abandon.

The word
echoed and reeled around her head like a pinball game. Abandon
yourself. The sound seemed to caress her, sliding around her like
arms, the one thing she could depend on. The ruby winked before her
and held her gaze, blood red and hungry, and she looked deeply into
it and saw the tired, careworn face of Penmorven, searching for his
lost daughter, searching for the goodness he could not find, the
goodness he wanted to give. She saw the white face of Imogen, so
like her own, twisted in passion and anguish, and, next to it, the
intense, seeking gaze of Isobel – Isobel, who had never ceased
searching, but had not gone after her. She could see the ageing,
lonely, jealous countenance of Aunt Maud, growing quickly from a
hopeful young girl to a faded, resentful, lost old woman, searching
desperately for a life that she knew was not destined to her. And
the face of her mother, the care, the pressure of a baby, the need
for escape, the fear of never achieving what she wanted. And
herself. She could see her own reflection winking back at herself
in the bloodlight, and another beside her, Alice, so like and yet
so different, and she was still alone. And she let her mind drift
along the path of abandon, through the scales, the sudden freedom
ringing through her like a released spring. And Penvynne smiled and
nodded, and he slipped the ring from his finger and onto Arlen’s
left hand.