Beltane

by Alys West

  It was an intricate spell that required preparation. However, as the girl had helpfully left her things behind, the vital ingredient was already at hand.

  Chapter 19

  Finn woke to the sun sliding through the curtains and absolute silence. It took him a second to figure out why that wasn’t right. “Zoe?” No reply. Yawning hugely, he turned to look over the back of the sofa. The bed was made. Standing, he said again, “Zoe?” Was she in the bathroom? The light wasn’t on. Three steps took him there. He knocked, said her name again, louder this time. Nothing. He threw the door open. The room was empty.

  He turned and looked around. Her bag was gone, her clothes. Had she left? He glanced at the clock by the bed. Nine fifty three. It wasn’t like he’d slept till lunchtime. Why had she gone?

  He wandered back to the sofa, sat on the edge of the mattress. He’d promised his mum he’d be there for lunch. Much as he was looking forward to a home cooked meal he knew the price he’d have to pay. Neither his mum nor Cat believed in holding back and they had six months’ worth of fear and anxiety pent up ready for his arrival.

  His hand rubbed his chin. He needed a shave. There remained a dull ache in his ribs. His fingers probed the spot, making sure he’d patched himself up as best he could before he saw his mother. He didn’t want to give her any more reasons to worry. He glanced at his leg. It looked like he’d injured it weeks ago. There wasn’t much he could do about the latest gash on his palm. Zoe would be bound to notice if he didn’t let it heal naturally.

  Reaching for the clothes he’d thrown in the chair last night he saw a note on the coffee table. He snatched it up. Another page fluttered out, falling onto the mattress. He picked it up, opened it and froze.

  The man’s face had become his own. He blinked but the image held. It was him. He was the captive.

  What the hell? Why hadn’t she drawn this last night? He remembered Zoe dropping her pencil, her eyes wide with fear as she said ‘no’.

  Impatiently, he shook the note open.

  Hi Finn,

  I’m so sorry to run out on you like this but I don’t know how to tell you what I need to say. The dream I had last night was about you. What I told you about my dreams was true. I do have to draw them to make them go away but I didn’t finish this drawing. I realised it was you in the stone circle and I was so scared that I stopped. I think I hoped if I didn’t draw it, it wouldn’t be real.

  But it is, or at least, it will be. You see (and this is the really freaky bit) I seem to be able to draw the future. I don’t expect you’ll believe me – I hardly believe it myself – but it happens. It used to be just family things, like dreaming about my sister with a baby before I knew she was pregnant, but since I came to Glastonbury it’s got seriously weird. I’ve had one of these dreams every night and they’ve all been about you.

  I didn’t see you in the garden on Sunday night. I dreamt about you and drew you on Saturday night. I couldn’t tell you. So I lied when you asked me, said I’d seen you out of the window. I’m only telling you now because I’m scared for you.

  I’m sorry that I don’t know who the hooded figure is. But if there’s any possibility that this dream will happen then I have no choice but to tell you that you’re in danger.

  I know this sounds completely crazy. Thanks for the bed and for being so sweet last night.

  Stay safe

  Zoe

  Finn’s eyes flicked back to the drawing, his mouth hanging open. It was a premonition. His heart began to race. It must be Maeve behind the hood. Who else would want to threaten him?

  And it didn’t look good. With his hands tied like that he was a dead man. And why did he look so bloody calm, almost like he was ready to die? He had to tell Winston. This was bad. Very, very bad.

  He took two steps and froze. Zoe was a seer. He snorted. It was fucking unbelievable. Why hadn’t she told him? Why had she thought he wouldn’t understand? He shoved his fingers into his hair. After what he’d told her last night, shouldn’t she have guessed that he’d accept this? Or, at least, given him a chance instead of running off?

  Now he had to track her down, find out what else she’d seen. She said she’d dreamt about him every night since she came to Glastonbury. She’d arrived on Saturday. That meant there were another three drawings. He had to see them, find out how these dreams worked. Because he needed all the help he could get if he was going to get out of this stone circle alive.

  He glanced at the clock again. If he left at half eleven he could still make it for lunch. He grabbed his clothes from the chair and headed for the bathroom. That gave him time to find Zoe, get her to show him these other pictures. If she had them with her. If they weren’t at Anam Cara.

  With his hand on the door, pieces fell into place. Zoe fretting about her portfolio, Maeve taking something large and flat from beneath the bed last night. Had Maeve seen these drawings? Did they reveal Zoe’s gift? What if she’d left here to go back to Anam Cara to get her things?

  His fist slammed against the door. “Fuck!” He’d not told her not to go. He’d been waiting until the morning to tell her about Maeve searching her room. Suddenly that seemed like eye-watering stupidity. Only he’d never imagined she’d just bloody leave.

  He cast his mind back to what he’d seen last night. Maeve had sat on the bed for long minutes. If she’d seen the pictures – and it would be insanity to imagine she’d not - then, at the very least, she’d think Zoe had met him. Add that to what Maeve already suspected and Zoe could be in real trouble.

  He needed to know what was in these pictures, what they revealed. Were they all as vividly prescient as this one? Because if Maeve had even the slightest idea that Zoe was a seer then she would crave her gift as ferociously as a vampire scenting blood.

  Suddenly he was throwing on his clothes, stuffing his feet into his boots. He had to find her. He might be over-reacting. Maeve could be entirely too focused on finding him to be distracted. But after what she’d done to Cat – whose talent was far less extraordinary – and with Beltane only two days away, he wasn’t taking any chances.

  Snatching up his fleece, he riffled through the pockets searching for the scrap of paper with her number on. He swore when he remembered he still didn’t have his mobile. Where the hell was he going to find a pay phone? He grabbed his keys, stuffed her note and the picture in his pocket and strode out the door.

  Blinking in the sunlight, he pounded across the gravel to where he’d left the hire car. A grey-haired man, smoking on the picnic bench outside Kestrel Cottage, looked up as he passed and said, “Morning.” Finn returned the greeting and then stopped. “Do you have a mobile I could borrow? It’ll only take a minute and I’ll pay for the call.”

  “Yeah, alright mate.” The man took a phone from his pocket and offered it to Finn.

  “Thanks.” Turning away, he pulled out Zoe’s number and keyed it in. His foot tapped as it rang. When she said, very tentatively, “Hello?” a huge swell of relief flooded through him that was immediately swamped by a wave of irritation.

  “It’s Finn.” His voice was much sharper than he’d intended. “Where are you?”

  “Oh, Finn! I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. I...”

  “Don’t say anything. Just tell me where you are.”

  “The New Moon Cafe. On the High Street.” She sounded confused and upset. He ignored that. He’d explain when he got there.

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He ended the call before she could argue. Giving the phone back to the man, he handed over a two pound coin. It was too much but he didn’t have time to waste.

  He spun the hire car out of its parking space and accelerated up the lane. Turning left he slammed his foot down hitting sixty in seconds. The arrow straight roads meant he only had to slow for the roundabouts on the A39. He ignored the thirty limit on Northload Street and floored it into the car park. Then he strode across the tarmac and down the narrow alley next to the church.

  Just before h
e came out on the High Street he realised he’d forgotten to shield his presence. Pausing, he closed his eyes to focus his energy.

  ‘Crap,’ he muttered, realising he’d not asked Zoe where the cafe was. He scanned up and down - saw nothing that worried him - and figuring right looked more promising he headed down the incline.

  The cafe was near the bottom, painted black with silver crescent moons around the name. He flung the door open. Her head whipped round as she heard the door open. She was chewing her bottom lip, her eyes pink rimmed as if she’d been crying.

  She stood as he approached, her hands outstretched in apology. “Finn, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I should have told you about the dream last night. I don’t know why I didn’t. And now you’re mad at me...”

  He didn’t know what to say. The anger had evaporated the moment he saw her. He felt only relief. He needed her to know that. Putting his hand on her shoulder, he pulled her into an awkward one-armed hug.

  Chapter 20

  Stunned, Zoe stood there, her cheek resting against Finn’s chest, her arms hanging limply by her sides. After she’d left the cottage she’d been convinced she’d never see him again. Then he’d rung, sounding furious and she’d been ready for anger. But this was….

  Oh God! Her heart stuttered. Was he doing this because Maeve was outside?

  Then his other hand was on her waist, pulling her closer as he folded around her and she knew instinctively that he meant it this time. Her arms moved, wrapping themselves around his broad chest to hug him back. She closed her eyes and the fear, tension and unshed tears melted away.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’re a seer?” he whispered against her ear.

  “I’m a what?” Zoe pulled away to look up at his face.

  His hands slid to her shoulders. “You’re a seer. You see the future.” He frowned. “Didn’t you know?”

  Zoe shrugged. “All I know is that I have these crazy dreams.”

  Finn dipped his head to look at her face. After a moment, she reluctantly met his eyes. His gaze was intense, his voice grave. “Don’t ever say that. They’re not crazy. They’re a gift.”

  “Easy for you to say.” Stepping back, she folded her arms.

  “You’d be surprised. I understand more than you think.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes.” Finn scanned the room as he spoke. “Who else knows about your dreams?”

  “Only my sister and my friend Anna. And they only know about the dreams of my family. I’ve not told them about the ones of you.”

  “And Maeve doesn’t know?”

  “No! Why would I have told her?”

  “I thought not. But I had to check.” Finn looked towards the front of the cafe. “What time is it?”

  Slipping back into her seat, Zoe glanced at her watch. “Twenty to eleven.”

  “Bugger! We’ll have to stay here but we have to move further back.” He gestured to an empty table at the gloomy rear of the café.

  “Okay but why?” Picking up her bag and jacket Zoe followed him.

  “It’s a bit more private.” Pulling the chair out opposite he muttered, “It’ll be fine so long as Maeve’s still tucked up in bed.”

  “Oh no! You don’t think.... I mean she wouldn’t do anything here.” Zoe gestured around her. “There’s a room full of people.”

  “Which is the only reason we’re still here.” Finn plucked the menu from between the salt and pepper pots. He glanced at her. “Do me a favour, will you?”

  “Sure,” Zoe said and then bit her lip at her rashness. It didn’t sound like a serious request but then you could never tell with Finn. What if he was about to ask her to do something she really didn’t want to agree to? Like not seeing him again?

  She’d cried when she left the cottage. Those tears had made her realise not only how far she’d fallen already but how scared she was. She didn’t want her fear about what was happening at Anam Cara to drive her into leaving Glastonbury and yet, without Finn, the thought of remaining felt pretty damned terrifying. When the taxi dropped her in town, she decided to go to the hostel and ask them about cancellations. If there was a bed for tonight then she’d stay.

  If not then she was heading for home. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt when they told her there was a bed free in one of the dorms but she took it. When Finn rang she’d been trying to figure out if there was any way she could go to Anam Cara to get her things without seeing Maeve.

  “Will you tell me when it’s half eleven?” Finn asked, interrupting her thoughts. “I have to leave then. I’m going to Mum’s for lunch.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Lyme Regis.”

  “Isn’t that, like, a really long way?”

  Finn shook his head. “Only about an hour and a half.”

  “Oh,” Zoe’s hands rose to cover her slightly pink cheeks. “My geography is so crap.”

  “If I leave at half eleven I should make it. My sister has a thing about my timekeeping. She says that’s crap. And as I’ve not seen her for....Well, let’s just say it’s more than my life’s worth to be late.”

  “You’re going to see Cat?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You don’t sound very thrilled about it.”

  He looked down, appearing to study the menu. “I don’t know what I’m going to say to her.”

  “Why not?”

  There was a long pause. At last, Finn muttered, “Because I let her down.”

  “No you didn’t,” Zoe said gently. “You got her out of Anam Cara. How is that letting her down?”

  “But that’s all I did.” Finn dropped – with more force than necessary - the menu back between the salt and pepper pots.

  She opened her mouth to ask what he meant but then seeing his jaw jutting stubbornly she closed it again. Obviously there was more to it. She was trying to figure out her next question when Finn looked up, his face carefully blank, and realised that a pretty, blonde waitress stood next to their table.

  “What can I get you?” The girl took a pen and pad from her apron, her attention focused entirely on Finn.

  He gestured to Zoe. “What are you having?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t thought. I didn’t feel like eating when I got here.”

  “Well, I’ll have a full English.”

  To a non-meat eater it sounded surprisingly good. “Do you do a veggie version of that?” The waitress nodded, a little sullenly. “I’ll have that then.”

  “And a coffee for me and a top up for Zoe,” Finn said. She saw the waitress try, completely unsuccessfully, to catch his eye and bit back a smile. He looked very good this morning. The stubble and messy hair suited him. He looked rugged yet sexy as if he were about to climb a mountain or raft down a river.

  And he was also – astonishingly after last night and this morning - with her.

  Finn pulled the picture and her note from his pocket. Zoe’s shoulders slumped a little. Why couldn’t they just have breakfast and talk about normal things? The kind of conversation people had when they were getting to know each other, like where they grew up and what they did in their spare time. There was so much she wanted to know and there never seemed to be a right time to ask.

  Finn gestured at the picture. “Are you alright if we talk about this now?”

  “I’m so sorry about last night...”

  Finn held a hand up. “Enough with the apologies, remember?”

  She nodded slowly. “Okay.”

  He put the drawing on the table between them, smoothing the creases out with the side of his hand. Frowning, he met her gaze. “I still find it hard to believe you dreamt this.”

  “You and me both,” Zoe said, avoiding looking at the sketch. She hated the look on Finn’s face. What could have happened to make him accept his captivity? Sitting opposite him now – conscious of the force field of confidence and determination that surrounded him - it was impossible to imagine him not fighting.

  “What else can you tell me abo
ut this? Is there anything else - anything at all - you remember?”

  “The only other thing was a voice. A kind of cry of triumph as it -” Zoe pointed to the hooded figure “- raised its hand.”

  “Did you recognise the voice?”

  She shook her head. “It sounded a bit familiar but I can’t place it. I’ll keep trying. It might come back to me.”

  “Let me know if it does. It could be important.”

  She nodded. She didn’t need reminding about why it was important. If she hadn’t recognised that then they could have been having the kind of normal conversation she craved over breakfast at the cottage.

  Finn hesitated and then pointed at the hooded figure. “I know the hands look like an old person’s. But could you have got that wrong?

  “I don’t know. Once I’ve drawn the dream it fades, just like an ordinary dream. But if you think it’s important then I’ll try to remember.”

  “It is important. Because if it weren’t for the hands I’d be one hundred per cent sure this is Maeve.”

  “No!” Zoe’s hands flew up as if to push away his words.

  Finn gave a tiny nod. “Yes.”

  “But why do you think it’s her?”

  “I can’t think of anyone else who wants to kill me.”

  Zoe gulped, stared. “No,” she repeated, willing him to be joking – a weird, sick kind of joke – but better than him being serious. “You don’t mean that.”

  “Don’t look so worried.” Grinning confidently, Finn leaned across the table. “It’s not going to happen. Now I know what she’s got planned for me I’ll go in there prepared.”

  “Oh my God! This is unbelievable. I never thought she wanted to -” her voice dropped to a whisper “- kill you.”

  “Just because she wants to doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.”

  “How can you be so calm about it?”

  “It’s not a total surprise. I’ve known for...a while that Maeve would prefer me dead.” Finn took a deep breath. “But I’m not such an idiot as to think I don’t need all the help I can get, so if there’s anything else, if you know where this place is or when it’s going to happen...”