by Alys West
“Be quiet! This is between me and the druid,” Maeve said, without looking at her.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Finn said. “You brought her here. Let her speak.”
Zoe’s eyes slid between the two of them. It was a stand-off, each of them glaring at the other. She said quickly, “What if Maeve let me out of the circle but kept the knife on me until Finn breaks his staff? Wouldn’t that work? It seems to me that’d give you both what you want.”
“No,” Finn said. “It’s too risky. She could wait until I’d broken my staff and then kill you anyway.”
“You’re right, I could,” Maeve said. “But it’s you I want, Finn McCloud. If you do what I tell you, the girl’s safe.”
Across the barrier created by the force field, Finn’s eyes met Zoe’s. “I’m not happy about this.”
“I know but it’s okay.” Zoe swallowed hard and tried to sound braver than she felt. “I can do it.”
Maeve strode over to her. Grabbing the knife, she pressed the flat of the blade against Zoe’s skin. “Those were brave words,” the spellworker whispered, forcing Zoe to walk forwards. “But if you make one wrong move this knife will pierce your jugular and you’ll bleed to death in minutes. Not even your druid will be able to save you.”
At the perimeter of the circle, Maeve said, “Goddesses, by my leave, let this girl pass.” The spellworker released her grasp. Instantly the knife returned to hover at Zoe’s throat.
With her eyes fixed on it, Zoe took the next tentative step. There was a weird sensation, like sliding through jelly, and then she was free. Finn stood five paces away. She wanted to run to him but she didn’t dare move any further.
“Alright, Maeve. I’m breaking it now.” He raised his knee, laid the staff over it. There was a loud crack as it broke. Holding up the two pieces, Finn winked. For a second, Zoe was astounded then it made sense. That staff wasn’t his.
“Throw the pieces into the circle,” Maeve said. He tossed them in a wide arc. They ricocheted off the furthest stones and dropped to the ground. “Now step in yourself.”
“Not until I’ve spoken to Zoe.”
“That was not part of our deal!”
“You said you wouldn’t hurt her if I did what you asked. I’ve followed your instructions exactly but you took blood from her anyway. That was out of order.”
Maeve hesitated. “Count it as your last request, Finn McCloud. One minute. And the knife stays on her.”
Finn didn’t waste time replying. Striding towards Zoe, he stripped off his coat. Taking great care not to touch the knife, he slid it round her shoulders. “You’re frozen. Let me see your arm.”
“You saw that?” Zoe pulled up her hoodie to reveal the makeshift bandage.
“Yes. We were here about an hour before you.” Finn gently untied the blood soaked t-shirt and cupped her elbow with his hands.
“We? Winston’s here?” Zoe whispered.
Finn nodded.
She felt a tingling warmth spreading out from her elbow. “What are you doing?”
“Healing you.”
“Don’t waste your energy,” Zoe said. “The bleeding’s stopped. I’ll be fine.”
“But I need to know you’re fine,” Finn said, with a fleeting smile. When he took his hands away, she saw that the wide gash had become a thin pink line. His hands slid down to her wrist and she felt the same warmth there. “I should never have insisted on you going home. If you’d stayed with me this would never have happened.”
“Don’t go there.” With the tiniest movement, Zoe shook her head. “You’re here. That’s what matters.”
Finn’s hand moved to her other wrist. His voice dropped. “If I… don’t… you know, make it, Winston will take care of you. Get you away from here.”
“About that. There’s something I need to tell you, something that might help. Is she listening? I daren’t look.”
Finn shook his head. “No. She’s at the other side of the circle picking up my staff.”
“But that wasn’t…?”
“Shush!” Finn laid a finger on her mouth. “That’s just the beginning.” His hand rose to the talisman at his throat. Zoe’s eyes widened when she saw that it was exactly like the one she’d drawn. His finger rested on the small piece of wood and he raised his eyebrows. For a second, Zoe was lost then the shape of the talisman registered.
“Is that what I think it is?” she said.
Finn nodded.
“Thank God!” Without thinking, Zoe reached for him, flinching as the knife pricked her skin. “Owww!”
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, I just forgot for a second. Come closer. I don’t want Maeve to hear this.”
Wary of unintentionally jolting her, Finn stepped in until their bodies were only a centimetre apart. “I want to hold you,” he whispered in the ear that didn’t have the knife hovering next to it. “But one wrong move and the athame could…”
“I know,” Zoe breathed, staring into his eyes. As she looked, they became soft. Suddenly she felt as if the ground were shifting beneath her feet.
“What is it, sweetheart?” Finn’s finger brushed a smear of mud from her cheek.
“I had a dream on the way here. I saw you plunge your staff into the centre of this circle and a dragon roared and then there was a line of light linking all these places. Some of them I didn’t recognise but there was St Michael’s Mount and Glastonbury and…”
“Oh, that’s bloody brilliant!”
“What is?”
Finn grinned. “You’ll see.”
“Time’s up, Finn McCloud!” Maeve called.
“I’m just saying goodbye,” Finn said.
“Spare me the bleeding hearts. If you’re not in here in thirty seconds then I’ll kill the girl. One twist of my knife and she’s dead.”
Simultaneously with her words, Zoe yelped as the knife pricked her skin.
“Stop it!” Finn shouted. His hand reached towards the hilt but he pulled it back. “I can’t,” he whispered to Zoe. “If I touch it she’ll know I’ve still got my connection to awen.”
“I’m counting,” Maeve said before adding the words that would allow Finn to enter the circle.
“Don’t say goodbye,” Zoe whispered. “I can’t bear it.”
Finn took her hand in both of his. “You don’t have to. I’m coming back. The next time I see you take your top off I’m going to be this close. That’s a nice bra you’re wearing.”
Zoe didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “That is so not the way I pictured you first seeing it.”
“Jesus! I want to kiss you but I daren’t risk it. The knife’s too close to your vein.”
Zoe’s eyes were huge with unshed tears. “This is so unfair!”
“I know.” Finn’s voice deepened. “I’ll make it up to you.” He lifted her hand to his lips and, eyes fixed on hers, tenderly kissed the palm. “As soon as the knife moves, head for the hill behind you. Winston’s there.”
Without glancing back, he stepped through the force field into the circle.
Chapter 34
When the pressure lifted and he was free of the spell that bound the circle, Finn stopped. Pushing his fingers through his hair, he peered around him. He’d left pebbles earlier, dotted along the ley line to mark its course. He scanned the tufty grass inside the circle, spotted the ones he’d left to indicate where it entered and exited the circle. He couldn’t see the pebbles near the centre and realised those must be on the other side of the fire. He’d just had time to dowse the course of the ley line before they’d seen Maeve’s light globes crossing the moor.
In the centre of the circle, the spellworker raised her hand and neatly caught her knife. At least she’d kept her word and let Zoe walk away. If he died then he’d go knowing he’d saved his sister and Zoe. That was something. But he’d hoped to do so much more.
“Come here!” Maeve pointed to a spot between her and the fire. When Finn didn’t move immediately she added, “Or d
o I have to come and get you?”
Finn shook his head. That was the last thing he wanted. The success of the plan depended entirely on his proximity to the ley line.
He started to walk towards the centre of the circle, moving in an arc away from Maeve. As he got closer to the fire, he saw the pebbles on the opposite side of it.
He glanced at the spellworker. Her cold, glassy eyes met his and he hastily glanced away. She started to move towards him. Finn ignored her. Kept walking. He had to get to the other side of the fire. He saw Maeve raise the hand that held the knife. Hoping to distract her, he said the first thing that came into his head, “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Trying to take my connection to the earth.”
Maeve stopped, looked away. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re a druid.”
“So?”
“You were born with power!” She spun towards him, spitting the words out. “How can you understand what it’s like to have nothing? To have to steal energy from other people just to stay alive?”
“That’s why you’re doing this? You wish you’d been born a druid?”
“No! Druids are fools. Bound by antiquated rules and ridiculous ideals. But your connection to the earth will free me from spells and rituals, from begging the will of the goddesses.”
Finn kept his eyes on the nearest pebble. Only two more steps. “And what will you do when you’ve got that?”
“Live,” Maeve said quietly, as if she spoke to herself. “Without the disguises.”
“Just out of interest, how many people have you killed along the way?” His foot nudged the pebble. “Before me, I mean?” The ley line’s energy was beneath him, pulsing through the soles of his boots.
The spellworker shrugged. “I forget. It’s been a long time. Their faces fade.”
There was a long moment of silence. Finn walked along the ley line towards the fire. Two paces away from it he stopped.
Heart pounding, he took a deep breath. He had to do this. It was part of the plan. He just hoped he was a good enough actor to pull it off.
He held his hands out towards her. “Okay, let’s get on with this.”
Maeve eyes narrowed suspiciously. “If this is some sort of trick, Finn McCloud?”
Finn produced what he hoped was a derisive laugh. “I’ve broken my staff and I’m trapped in your force field. What kind of tricks do you think I’ve got left?”
Maeve frowned, her eyes watchful. He would have to push it. “And death’s got to be better than listening to you whingeing about how crap your life’s been!”
In two steps she stood in front of him. Her hand swung out, slapped him across the face. Finn bit back the swear words, tensed for another blow.
“Turn round,” Maeve said, grabbing his shoulder.
Careful to keep his feet in the same position, Finn complied. His hands were wrenched backwards. He felt her cold grasp on his wrists, the rope against his skin.
Instinctively he struggled. It was one thing knowing he would be bound. Something entirely different to experience it. As the rope tightened, a cold sweat crawled down his back, clung to his palms. He felt the panic return, the memories rushing in, dragging him back to the terror of the tree.
Maeve pressed on his shoulder. “Kneel.”
As he went down, he glanced at the sky. Behind the moon the darkness thinned. Sunrise was coming. And with it - if he didn’t keep it together - his death.
* * *
Frowning, Maeve bent to place the four black candles around the fire. The druid’s calmness was unsettling. It was almost as if he’d given up, that he’d welcome death. That was unacceptable. She wanted him to suffer.
She pushed back the wide sleeve of her robe and checked her watch. Half an hour until sunrise. She had time.
Picking up the chalice, she looked inside. “Your girlfriend left some blood behind. Won’t that be useful?”
“You said you’d let her go.”
“Don’t tell me you believed that.” Maeve took the poppet of the girl from her pocket. Slowly, she wiped it round the inside of the chalice. “I can’t let her live. Not after what she’s seen. And with this -” she held the blood smeared doll up for him to see “- I can find her wherever she goes.”
“You bloody bitch!” The colour drained from the druid’s face. He struggled against his bonds. “You’ve got me. That’s what you wanted. Let her go!”
Laughing, Maeve dropped that chalice to the ground and picked up the one she’d purified for the ritual. “Is that why you gave yourself up? Because you thought you’d save your girlfriend?” When he didn’t reply, she continued, “You’re always trying to save people, Finn McCloud. Your sister, now this girl.” She leaned in, laid the flat blade of her athame next to Finn’s cheek. “Poor Catriona didn’t look too well when I last saw her. Does Lyme Regis not agree with her?”
The druid’s head jerked back. She waited until she saw his nostrils flare, his mouth open ready to curse and then slashed his cheek. His eyes, wide with rage and hate, met hers.
Holding the chalice to catch the blood, Maeve smiled. “I let your sister live in case I needed her for the ritual. When you were trapped in the tree I couldn’t have taken your blood to cast the spell. But your sister’s would have worked as well.”
“Fuck you!”
She laughed. “See what you’ve achieved by escaping, Finn McCloud?” She peered into the cup. It held sufficient blood for the ritual but she kept it there a few seconds longer. “Now your girlfriend will die too.”
He muttered words she didn’t catch. She turned. “What did you say?”
He glared at her through narrowed eyes.
“Still trying to defy me?” She picked up his broken staff, swung it back and struck him hard in the stomach.
He doubled over, gasping for breath. “Not so full of smart answers now, are you?” She saw the effort it took for him to straighten, for his eyes to meet hers again. Maeve raised an eyebrow. “Say goodbye to your precious staff.”
Lips tight shut, he looked away, his cut cheek turned towards her. The temptation was irresistible. She touched the end of the staff to his face, stroked it along the skin waiting for a reaction. When the muscles in his neck and jaw tensed, she raised the staff and brought it down hard on his cheekbone. Heard a satisfying crunch.
His head dropped to his chest. She shoved the tip of the staff under his chin and levered it up. “You will watch it burn!”
She poked one half of the staff into the fire, waited for it to catch. The wood flamed brightly. When it had charred she pulled it out and placed it on a crystal dish.
She waved the dish in front of the druid’s face. “What’s it like seeing your power turning to ash?”
“You know nothing -” he croaked “- about druid power.”
She bent until her face was level with his. “But I will,” she breathed. He flinched as if he expected another blow. Maeve smiled. Finally, he was getting the right idea.
She checked her watch. Fifteen minutes to sunrise. It was time.
* * *
Finn’s cheek was agony. He sucked in a deep breath, winced when it released a shooting pain in his stomach.
“Ishtar, Cerridwen, Innana, Shakti, Yoruba, Danu, Kali and Aine,” Maeve said loudly. She pointed her athame at each of the candles in turn and a flame leapt into being. “I call on you to protect, empower and inspire my magic.”
This was it. He’d read The Seventh Book, knew the ritual would need all of Maeve’s attention. He had to stop the spell before she drank from the chalice. Once she’d done that his blood would strengthen her and she’d be harder to kill.
Flexing his hands, he leaned backwards. His fingers touched the top of his boots. He strained against the rope but couldn’t reach inside the right one. He shuffled that boot to the side, dropped his shoulder and tried again. Sweat crawled down his back. The bonds at his wrists g
nawed at his skin but his fingers closed around the hilt of the knife. He glanced at Maeve.
“Hear me now all powerful goddesses, thy servant offers blood from her own veins as a tribute to your power and knowledge.” On the final word, Maeve sliced her hand. Drops of blood fell into the fire. It flamed more brightly.
Carefully, Finn started to rotate the knife. His hands were clammy, his fingers thick and clumsy. If he dropped it now he was a dead man. Feeling the blade against his wrists, he exhaled. He manoeuvred the point under the rope. Eyes fixed on Maeve, he began to cut.
“I, your servant who pledges her loyalty, make this offering of the druid’s blood.” The spellworker raised the chalice above her head. “Goddesses, hear me! I, thy servant, call to you!”
The flames leapt upwards. Maeve stepped back. The chalice hovered, as if suspended by an invisible thread, within the fire.
Finn felt the knife slice through the rope. Maeve turned towards him. He froze. She picked up the crystal dish, stepped back to the fire. He released a breath, swallowed hard. Tightened his grip on the knife and tried again.
“By breaking his staff the druid has revoked his connection to the earth.” Maeve raised the crystal dish to the sky. “I offer the druid’s staff to the goddesses.” She threw one half of the staff into the fire.
The flames changed colour. Became green, yellow, red, brown, the colours of the earth. “The power of the druid’s staff I intermingle with the druid’s blood.” She dropped a handful of the blackened wood into the chalice.
As he pushed the blade back and forth through the rope the tip of the blade snagged. Finn’s fingers slipped on the handle. The knife fell.
Maeve raised her hands towards the lightening sky. “Goddesses, at the raising of the Beltane sun join thy powers and give strength to thy servant who is in need this hour.”
He bent his head. He sucked in a deep breath. Said a prayer of his own. Through his knees, he drew on awen from the ley line. Tensing every muscle in his upper body, he strained against the bonds. Sweat dripped into his eyes. There was a snapping, an unravelling and his hands were free.
