Beltane

by Alys West

  With that memory flooded back. The strange taste to the wine. Feeling dizzy. Finn ringing. Anna snatching the phone away. Maeve at her house.

  Tears prickled behind her eyes. How had it come to this? Anna had drugged her and betrayed her. They’d been best friends for years. Why would she help Maeve?

  And now she was being driven through the night to a stone circle somewhere on Dartmoor.

  Then another thought hit her and a wave of terror like nothing she’d never experienced before washed over her. Because Finn had said that if Maeve knew she was a seer she’d kill her to steal that gift. She screwed her eyes tight shut, dry sobs choking her throat. For a terrible moment, she struggled to catch her breath around the bulky gag and involuntarily tried to move her arms. The searing pain at her wrists shocked her into stillness.

  Carefully, she inhaled through her nose trying not to move at all. For a few moments she concentrated only on her breathing. Imperceptibly, the panic faded and she began to think. The dream was important. The images had been even brighter, more persistent than usual. She had to remember it. It made no sense to her but to Finn it could be vital.

  If she ever got the chance to tell him.

  Pushing away that thought, Zoe closed her eyes and did something she’d never attempted before. She tried to hold onto the images from her dream.

  She had no idea how much time passed. Her concentration was so intense that the movements of the car ceased to register until it bounced heavily and came to a halt. A sharp click was followed by a whirring as a seatbelt was released. Then Maeve spoke, “Zoe, dear. I know you’re awake.”

  Oh for God’s sake! Did the woman have eyes in the back of her head? She briefly considered ignoring her and pretending to sleep then she remembered that Maeve wasn’t just the patronising owner of Anam Cara who she found so bloody annoying. She was a spellworker and if she could trap Finn in a tree for rescuing his sister then who knew what she’d do if Zoe defied her. She opened her eyes and looked up.

  Maeve leaned around the driver’s seat. “I want you to do a little something for me.”

  Feeling she had no other choice, Zoe nodded. “Good,” Maeve said. She got out of the car and opened the door next to Zoe’s head. Swiftly, Maeve untied the gag. Zoe gulped in air, her throat painfully dry.

  “Sit up,” Maeve said. “And I’ll get you some water.”

  Zoe dropped her feet to the floor. That was the easy bit. Sitting was much harder. Her bonds cutting into her skin, she pushed down with her shoulder, flexed her elbow and levered herself upright. Maeve thrust a bottle against her lips and she drank, water spilling down her chin and soaking into her hoody.

  “What do you want?” Zoe muttered.

  “Right now, I want you to talk to your boyfriend and tell him where to meet us.” Maeve slipped into the seat beside her. “What’s the code for this blasted phone of yours?”

  Zoe hesitated. She didn’t want to do anything that would help Maeve get Finn to the stone circle. Then something sharp pressed against her neck. She tried to squirm away from it but it bit deeper.

  “And don’t think about lying to me!”

  A warm trickle of blood slipped down her skin. “It’s 3486,” Zoe said. Maeve keyed in the numbers and then pressed the screen a number of times. She frowned, deep lines creasing her forehead. With the spellworker distracted Zoe took the opportunity to look around, hoping from some clue as to where they were.

  The clock on the dashboard said 02:15. She’d been out for hours. The drug had left a thudding headache behind it. Through the windscreen she could dimly make out that they were parked on the verge of a narrow road lined with tall hedges.

  She was turning her head to see what was behind them when Maeve pressed the phone against her ear. She heard it ringing. Bit her lip wondering how the hell she would explain that she’d been kidnapped.

  “Maeve.” Finn’s tone was coldly formal.

  “No, it’s Zoe.” She was momentarily so overwhelmed by hearing his voice that she didn’t take in what he’d said. Then it hit home. He’d expected Maeve to call from her phone which must mean he’d already spoken to the spellworker.

  “Thank Christ! Are you alright?” His relief burst down the line.

  “Kind of.” She bit her lip to keep back tears. It was much harder to keep it together when he sounded so close.

  “Has she hurt you?”

  “No.” Aware of Maeve’s proximity, Zoe hesitated but then the words poured out. “I’m so sorry. Anna came round with a bottle of wine and she put some kind of drug in it and I was really out of it and then when you rang she wouldn’t let me talk to you. I think I must have passed out after that. I know Maeve turned up because she’s here now and….and I’m scared.”

  There was a sharp intake of breath. “This is not your fault,” Finn said. “I should have…”

  “Enough!” Maeve snapped, whisking the phone away. “The girl’s fine. She’ll come to no harm if you do exactly what I tell you.”

  Zoe leaned closer but she couldn’t hear his response. Maeve laughed scathingly. “As I’ve already said, you’re in no position to threaten, Finn McCloud. Meet me at the Nine Maidens stone circle an hour before sunrise. It’s on Dartmoor, a mile from the village of Belstone.”

  Zoe’s eyes widened when she heard the name. She’d been right. Maybe knowing that had given Finn some time to prepare. Could he be at the stone circle already? A tiny bubble of hope formed inside of her.

  Without waiting for Finn to reply, Maeve rang off and tossed the phone onto the front passenger seat. Then she turned to Zoe. “You’ll see him again soon. Of course, he’s going to die shortly after so perhaps that’s not much comfort.”

  “Or maybe he’ll kill you. Have you thought about that?”

  Maeve laughed scornfully. “You really do believe in the boy. How touching!”

  Zoe glared at her, determined not to be intimidated. But when the spellworker picked up the gag and pulled it tight between her bony hands, she couldn’t keep it together any longer. Cringing away she said, “Please no. Not that again.”

  Maeve stared at her, her watery blue eyes disturbingly close. “I suppose no one but me will hear you scream. But if you do, I won’t hesitate to use this.”

  Zoe nodded frantically. “I’ll be quiet.”

  “And stay down.” Grabbing her shoulder, Maeve pushed her flat. The blanket flopped over her. She heard a car door open and shut, the sound repeated as Maeve returned to the driver’s seat.

  The engine started up. As they started to move, Zoe closed her eyes and blew out a long breath. Maeve didn’t plan to kill her. She wanted to use her as bait. And maybe Finn would defeat Maeve. Okay, he hadn’t seemed very confident about that when she left, but he was a druid. He had the power of the earth on his side and, even if he hadn’t used magic as a weapon before, surely that was enough?

  For a microsecond the bubble of hope grew. But then behind her eyelids she saw her drawing of the crone holding Finn’s broken staff over the fire. Without that how could he fight? Or summon the line of light she’d seen in her dream?

  And if Maeve did kill him. She swallowed hard. What would happen? She was bait now but once the trap had been sprung she’d be a witness to murder. A witness that Maeve couldn’t control or influence. There was no way the spellworker would let her walk away.

  A chill crept through her veins and she shuddered. Finn wouldn’t only be fighting for his own life at the Nine Maidens. He would be fighting for hers as well.

  Chapter 33

  Zoe’s world had shrunk to the uneven ground beneath her feet and the agony at her wrists. Head down against the bitter wind, trying to ignore Maeve and the eerie balls of light that hovered around her, she kept on putting one foot in front of the other.

  For a brief, insane moment when they’d left the path from the village and Dartmoor had spread around them in bleak, desolate darkness she’d thought about making a run for it. Her hands remained tied behind her back which wou
ld make it difficult but the night offered protection. Or so she’d thought until, with a couple of muttered words, the spellworker had produced three balls of light. As if she’d read Zoe’s thoughts, Maeve had explained that they were weapons as well. And in case Zoe planned anything stupid, she’d offered to demonstrate their power. Zoe shook her head and started walking in the direction Maeve pointed.

  She’d fallen once, tripping on a root. Unable to put her hands out to save herself, she landed flat on her face in the mud and heather. Maeve hauled her up. That was when her wrists had gone from painful to agonising and blood had begun dripping down her hands.

  There’d been a brief moment of hope when she saw a square building emerge from the dark. She’d thought it was a house. Planned to scream as they walked past. But when they got closer she’d realised it was a deserted barn, the roof half fallen in. The disappointment was so sharp she had to bite back sobs. After that she’d kept her eyes on her feet and trudged on.

  Maeve pointed. “We’re nearly there.”

  One of the light balls floated ahead to illuminate the ring of stones. For a second Zoe felt relief that the nightmare walk was over. That vanished when she realised this was the place where she and Finn might die.

  Maeve strode into the centre of the circle, dropped her black velvet bag and looked around her. It was smaller than Zoe had expected from her drawings. The tallest of the stones barely came up to Maeve’s chest. One far larger stone had fallen and lay outside the circle.

  She walked around the perimeter and slowly, careful not to jolt her wrists, sat on the fallen stone. The cold seeped through her clothes and she shivered uncontrollably. In jeans and a hoodie she wasn’t dressed for a night time walk on Dartmoor. Her jeans were ripped at the knee where she’d fallen and her trainers were caked in mud. She thought enviously of the layers of fleece that Finn always wore. Wherever he was she felt certain he wasn’t shivering.

  Scanning the dark moorland, she searched for some sign of him. Had he been to the Nine Maidens already? Could he be close by? Watching and preparing for the confrontation to come? She thought he might be. She didn’t feel as alone as she had on the trek across the moor. But - she thought, shivering again - that could be just wishful thinking.

  A cry from Maeve made her turn. What she saw was chillingly familiar. Wearing a long black robe the spellworker stood in the centre of the circle, a fire flickering by her feet. “Come here!” Maeve said.

  Groaning inwardly, Zoe eased herself to standing. She half expected to feel something as she stepped into the circle - some sense of the energy that Finn had talked about - but there was nothing.

  “Stand here.” Maeve pointed to a spot next to the fire. Welcoming the warmth, Zoe did as instructed. Then she saw the curved knife glinting in the firelight and took three quick steps back.

  “I hope you’re not going to be difficult about this,” Maeve said, moving towards her.

  “About what?”

  “I need a little of your blood for the ritual.”

  “Like hell you do!” Backing away, Zoe crashed painfully against one of the upright stones. Eyes fixed on Maeve, she tried to slide round it but suddenly she couldn’t move. It was as if the air around her had solidified, holding her in place, pinned against the stone. Instinctively she struggled but only her head moved, the rest of her body was immobile. She opened her mouth to scream.

  Maeve’s cold hand smacked over it. Her face came closer; the watery eyes alight with excitement. “My dear girl,” Maeve said, holding the knife in one hand, a silver cup in the other. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way and I definitely recommend the easy way.”

  The spellworker grabbed Zoe’s shoulder and spun her round. Too scared now to fight back, Zoe’s cheek landed against the rough surface of the stone. The invisible barrier tightened around her body.

  Zoe screwed up her eyes and clenched her teeth together. The ropes on her wrists tightened agonizingly. There was a second of exquisite relief when the bonds fell away.

  Maeve caught her right arm in a cold grasp and shoved the sleeve up. The point of the knife felt icy against the soft skin inside Zoe’s elbow. The blade pierced. She gasped as a searing pain shot up her arm. Instinctively she tried to pull away. The force that held her intensified.

  “Don’t struggle!” Maeve said. “You’re only making it worse.”

  “Like you care,” Zoe muttered.

  “You never give up, do you? I should have spotted that the first day we met when you persisted in your tiresome interest in my Green Man. But you’re right. I don’t care. You’re a means to an end. That’s all.”

  Zoe didn’t waste what breath she had on answering. There was silence until Maeve said, “There! That should be enough.”

  Abruptly the force that had held Zoe disappeared. She slumped to the ground, holding her right arm to her chest. Maeve raised the chalice and drank deeply. Unable to believe what she saw, Zoe stared. Her stomach churned and, feeling sick, she clamped her hand over her mouth.

  “Thank you for this.” Maeve raised the chalice to her. “Your blood will give me the strength I need to kill your boyfriend.”

  “You bitch!”

  Maeve laughed. “Time to give up, dear. He’s not going to save you.” She walked around the inside of the circle, sprinkling the remaining contents of the silver cup on the ground.

  Warm blood trickled down Zoe’s arm. She groped in her jeans pocket and found a not terribly clean tissue. She pressed it hard against the wound. When it quickly turned bright red she felt the edge of rising panic. The gash needed bandaging and fast. Maeve obviously wasn’t going to help. She could think of only one option.

  Keeping an eye on Maeve, she slid her arms out of her hoodie and pulled it over her head. She grimaced when she saw her wrists. Layers of skin had been flayed away and the lacerations were encrusted with dried blood. She stripped off her t-shirt, gasping when the freezing wind hit her bare skin. Shivering uncontrollably, she rolled the t-shirt into a thick strip and wrapped it twice round her arm. With the help of her teeth she tied it as tight as she could. Fingers numb with cold, she pulled her hoodie on. The bulky bandage wouldn’t fit down the sleeve. Instead, she cradled her wounded arm against her body.

  Her head dropped back against the stone. Trying to slow her erratic breathing, she heard Maeve intoning words that made no sense. The older woman moved steadily closer. The thought of being sprinkled with her own blood forced her to move. She stumbled across the circle heading for the rock she’d sat on before.

  The fire burnt enthusiastically now, its heat impossible to resist. For a precious moment it warmed her. Then Maeve was crossing towards her and Zoe moved away. She heard Maeve say, her voice commanding, “By the will of the goddesses, this circle I seal.”

  There was a shiver in the air around her and immediately the wind dropped. Reaching the gap between two stones, Zoe went to step through it and bounced back. Putting out her hand, she touched something invisible but solid. She moved further round, reached out and found the same barrier.

  She swung to face Maeve. “What is this? What did you do?”

  “It’s a force field. It seals the circle. Makes it my sacred space. No one gets in or out without my permission.”

  “And that’s what you needed my blood for? To trap me?”

  Maeve smiled coldly. “Only temporarily, my dear. I have no more desire to prolong this than you do. When your boyfriend comes you can go.”

  “Then you can let her go, Maeve!” Finn’s voice came, loud and confident, from the darkness outside the circle.

  “Thank God!” Zoe breathed, spinning to look for him.

  One of Maeve’s light balls shot towards the place where his voice had come from. Its glow revealed him striding towards the stones, wearing a waterproof jacket over a thick fleece. As he got closer, she saw that the staff he carried was different to the one he’d had yesterday. It was taller and thinner with a fork at the top of it.

  “You’
re early,” Maeve said.

  “That depends on when you expect the sunrise. I’m reliably informed that the sun will come over the horizon in exactly one hour.” Finn pointed across the moor at, what Zoe guessed must be, east.

  “Then you’re wrong,” Maeve said.

  “If you prefer to trust the Met Office to the wisdom of a druid then you obviously don’t understand the power you’re so desperate to possess,” Finn said.

  “And will possess. Do not doubt that, Finn McCloud.”

  “I’m not as easy to kill as you seem to think. You couldn’t do it last time and -” Finn raised his staff “- I’m armed this time.”

  “Not for long. If you want the girl back you’ll break your staff.”

  “Not bloody likely!”

  Zoe’s eyes were fixed on Finn. She heard his shouted warning and turned. Maeve’s knife was flying straight at her. Automatically she ducked but, like a heat seeking missile, the knife swerved towards her. For a second, Zoe thought she was about to die. Then the blade stopped millimetres from her neck.

  “Don’t hurt her!” Finn yelled. “It’s me you want.”

  “Then break your staff. Until then I’m happy slicing bits off her. Perhaps her screams will change your mind.” Maeve’s hand flexed and the knife turned, its point digging into Zoe’s skin.

  Eyes screwed tight, Zoe stood rigid, too terrified to even breathe.

  “Okay! I’ll do it!” Finn shouted. “But let her go first.”

  Zoe’s eyes flew open and she gasped, “No Finn! You can’t…”

  Finn didn’t even glance at her. “Release the knife and let her out the circle. Then I’ll break my staff.”

  “Do you think I was born yesterday, Finn McCloud? I’m not letting the girl go while you’re still armed.”

  “And I’m not breaking my staff until I know she’s safe.”

  “Could you? The knife? Please?” Zoe said, breathlessly. Maeve curled a finger and the knife retreated slightly. With her eyes fixed on it, Zoe added, “Will you both stop talking about me as if I’m not here?”