by Mark Taylor
She watched in the side door mirror of the car. The electricity slowly stopped…and the Mongers began to calm. She looked down, then to Lady in the passenger seat, and then to the mirror to see Sarah and James in the backseat, huddled together, with no understanding of the horseless chariot that they rode in. “What happened?” Mary asked Lady.
“I don’t know yet,” Lady replied sadly, “I can’t feel like she does…”
VII
Somewhere in Ohio, Mary took the car from the road, and parked up in an empty barn.
Lady sat, sullen, in the passenger seat while Mary had taken Sarah and James out, into the fields.
She looked up into the night sky, “You see the stars,” she said, “they are the same now. You’re here again, back where you should have been, all those years ago. It was my fault that you were parted, and for that I am sorry.” She went on to explain when they were now, and how they got here, the difficulties, and the sacrifice of her new found sisters. As she stood, head hung, in the field, James approached her and put his hand on her arm.
“Mary…” he looked up and laughed, “that’s going to take some getting used to…thank you.”
Mary started to cry. “I can’t take you home, it won’t be safe…I don’t know where to take you…”
“Then come with me,” Lady had come into the field behind them, “we’ll go to mine.”
***
In Lady’s house in London, England, Mary sat by the fire, watching Sarah and James from the corner of her eye. They were watching a film on the television. In the four weeks since they had become returners, they had still failed to grasp moving pictures. Perhaps something lighter than The Witches of Eastwick may have been appropriate, but hell, it was a start to their understanding. Mary had tried a variety of children’s programs, but they even seemed to find them scary to some extent.
She left them, and joined Lady who was ironing in the kitchen.
“How are they doing?” she asked.
Mary shrugged. “About the same. I can’t really blame them for their slow progress—it’s all so new to them.” She took a pair of pants and started folding them. “Are we going to try again tonight?”
Lady nodded, “After they’ve gone to bed.”
Over the last few weeks Lady had taught Mary how to, what she’d called, commune—the process of leaving the body and searching for people with whom you are connected—as had happened as a byproduct of the coven working together so closely. However, each time they had tried, neither of them had seen Dina or Excalibur. Granted, they wouldn’t be able to speak with Dina even if they did find her, but at least they would know she was alive. If only they could find Excalibur, she would be able to tell them where they were.
It was of little comfort to Mary that she didn’t feel anything else in the ethereal, like the oncoming Mongers—or Him—like she had in Salem.
“Do you think they’re still out there?” Mary asked.
Lady nodded silently.
Sarah and James sat in bewilderment, looking at the traditional fish and chips. “And this is fish?” James prodded at the batter with his finger.
“Remember,” Mary said, “not with your fingers.”
James nodded and picked up his knife and fork. He’d actually learned to use them well, but still forgot that they were there on occasion.
“I like chips,” Sarah added.
The front door bell rang.
“That’ll be the nurse,” Mary said getting up, “she’s early.”
The private doctors Lady had hired when they first returned to London were nearing the end of their work. Hard as it was to do it subversively, they had assured James was healthy, having been dead for three centuries, and that neither of them were carrying any diseases. The last thing Mary needed on her conscience was for one of them to cause an outbreak of the bubonic plague.
She opened the door and just for a second, stared at the woman on the other side. “Excalibur?” she finally asked.
Excalibur thrust a large travel bag into her hands. “This is for the returners,” she said, “we need to go.”
Mary dropped the bag to the floor and threw her arms around her. “Oh, my God, you’re alive.”
“Not now,” Excalibur removed her, “Dina’s in trouble, get Lady.”
“Lady,” Mary called over her shoulder, “it’s Excalibur.” She grabbed Excalibur’s hand, “Come in.” She dragged her through the front door and closed it. “What happened, where have you been?”
“Hell and back,” Excalibur said dryly, “literally.”
Lady bounded up beside them. “Hey, Sis.” She spoke casually, as if this sort of thing happened frequently. “Where’s Dina?”
Excalibur shook the frivolities away. “We need to go. She’s in trouble.”
Lady took her coat from the hook by the front door and put it on. “What’s up?”
Before Excalibur had the chance to answer, Mary cut in. “How did you escape?”
“You did notice that we can…how did you put it…poof.” She smiled.
Mary nodded, “And what’s in the bag?”
“It’s whatever you want it to be,” Excalibur answered, “but we must go.”
Mary glanced behind her to the door into the dining room as she took her own coat from the hook and slipped her arms into it. Surely they’ll be all right on their own…for a while?
“What happened?” Lady asked.
“I’ve just found out that turning the Devil into Vampyr is a really, really, stupid thing to do.”
To be continued…
Read more in the second novella in the series, Blood of the Covenant, available here:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B081S9YCY6/
About the Author
Mark began writing many years ago. He had a talent for it during his formative years, but didn't follow through. He went from school into a career, and in his free time did other things.
Now his career path is set and he writes.
He worked within the flourishing small press industry at first, submitting to horror anthologies left and right, and has had dozens of stories printed in anthologies over the past few years. During this time he made a firm friend in fellow writer Charles Day, and they collaborated on pair of interconnected novellas, which eventually became the novel, REDEMPTION.
Novels come along at a steady rate, first there was SHUTTER SPEED, then A NIGHT AT THE DREAM THEATER, and then TRINITY.
He has written some original short story collections, THE HUMAN CONDITION and STRANGE.
His writing remains dark most of the time, but of late has found that his longer works err more into dark noir where he plays in a playground of demons and monsters but in the real world, where such trifles are the least of everyone's problems.
You can find out more about him here
www.authormarktaylor.com
or visit his Amazon page here
www.amazon.com/Mark-Taylor
