Stahl stepped forward and reached into a bucket at her feet. When her hand re-appeared she was clutching a handful of sawdust. She quickly left the stage and walked across to the plaque commemorating Anne’s execution.
“We spread this sawdust on the ground as it was spread on the day of your execution, Anne. We do this in your memory.”
Feeding the sawdust between finger and thumb she made a circle around the plaque before brushing her hands clean. No one spoke as she returned to the stage.
“She may not have been able to prevent her own death but Anne was nothing if not resourceful and, although her husband was too cowed to attend her execution that did not stop her cursing him. A curse which would ensure that the king would never father a male heir.
“Which brings us right back to the present day where we are still having to endure attacks upon our beliefs. Only last night - as some of you may know - on the stroke of midnight, our sisters in The Coven suffered a heinous attack. We don’t yet have all the details but it seems as though five senior witches were targeted and killed.”
There was outrage amongst the women as they all started talking at once. The Coven might have traditionally been a radical group but they were, for all that, still our sisters. They were also the one group which still stood in the way of Stahl achieving her true goal: unquestioning loyalty from witches of all denominations.
It didn’t take a genius to work out that she had been the one behind these attacks. The timing was, of course, perfect. If the women in front of her had any doubts about what she was asking them to do then those doubts had quickly evaporated.
It was clearly the response Stahl had hoped for as she raised her hands in an attempt to quieten them. She would be able to use the deaths of her one-time opponents as a rallying cry for these young witches and countless others like them.
I felt so insulated against her lies that the thought that my own mother might be amongst the dead didn’t even present itself. I wasn’t even sure how I felt about that, either.
“Who?” the women were crying.
“Who would do such a thing?”
Stahl held up her hand so that she might be heard.
“As I have said, details are very scarce at the moment. Suffice to say that this is not the work of common man. Human vengeance is slow and ponderous, as we know to our cost.
“No, there is a deft hand at work here. How else could five such experienced witches be silenced in one night? I hesitate to say it but the means of their despatch was so sudden that there can only be one possible solution.
“The Fae,” she said simply. “The Fae have such a weapon.”
“It brings death to all who stand against it,” Anathema pronounced.
This brought a sudden change in the pitch of the women’s voices. Previously they had been outraged but now I sensed genuine fear.
Stahl judged her moment to perfection. “We are talking about the Seelie Blade.”
“We must act!” Anathema was shouting. “We must not suffer these attacks in silence.”
“And we will,” said Stahl. “We will avenge our sisters. We will call forth the spirits of our sisters from days long gone. We will stand against those who seek to use violence against us and we will strike them down.”
“Strike! Strike! Strike!”
The cry went up all around the camp sending goose bumps across my back. Was it so simple to turn a crowd to hatred?
It looked like I might have been defeated before I’d even begun.
Stahl continued. “This marks a dark moment in our story though, sadly, not a new one. Our faith has been targeted all too readily in the past . And, in order to survive, we have been forced to disperse, to go into hiding, cultivating our practices in secret. But, always, we have managed somehow to re-build. Our faith has been forged in the fire of persecution but tonight I say: no more.
“No more skulking in corners. No more watering down our true nature. No more bending the knee to other faiths. We will cast aside anyone who doubts us or derides us by the re-invigoration of our faith. Although five of our sisters have already been despatched to Hecate’s care today, fifty new witches will rise up in their place.”
The women were all cheering, no one pausing to question how convenient this all was. Even the maths added up: five are struck down and fifty spring up to take their place. It was all very Old Testament and none the less alluring for all that.
I watched the grey-haired woman pour her special preparation into the carafe of wine. I wanted to knock it out of her hands to scream at the women to run but I knew that it would be all a waste of effort. I had to wait until the time was right – nothing would have been achieved if I were to be removed now. Stahl must have realised that she couldn’t trust me. I think that she was just curious to see whether I’d dare stand up to her: she still craved that sense of conflict. Probably couldn’t believe that it had all gone so well. She’d no doubt justify it to herself in some other way but that was what she was doing.
Pavel was obviously thinking along the same lines and looked disappointed when Stahl indicated for him to remain where he was. She didn’t want disruption of her carefully planned ceremony if she could help it.
Over to our right, two of the security men slid a pair of metal skewers through either side of the brazier. They lifted it with some difficulty and started walking it towards us. No one needed to be told to clear the way, the heat that was emanating from it acted as enough of a warning. The two men were sweating profusely when they finally lowered it to the gravel some ten metres from the stage.
The brazier drew everyone’s attention. Just the crunch of the clinker as it settled was distraction enough. The Iron of Fortitude was taking a moment to reach its optimum temperature and Stahl couldn’t tear her eyes away. She must have fantasised about this moment for years. The idea that it might now be coming true was almost too much to bear. I found it difficult to look away from the glare of the coals myself.
Anathema picked up the incense burner and started swinging it back and forth. The wind caught the smoke and wafted it across the stage to me. Frankincense. It caught in my throat. The same as my fever dream. The thought of what was going to happen to these women brought me out in a cold sweat.
Those faces. All caught up in the sense of occasion. So vibrant and self-assured. So young.
I felt older than my years. The reality of what they would face coming back to me now. The women no doubt saw me for what I was: a symbol of The Coven who had switched her allegiances to Stahl. For them, I no doubt represented the future. A future which was currently being shaped by Melissa Stahl. Unbidden, they came, forming themselves into an orderly line as they approached the front of the stage. I watched as the grey haired witch poured the altered wine into two silver chalices. She passed one to me. Then she stood at the top of the left hand steps. Stahl stared at me until I finally took my place at the top of the stairs on the right. Pavel was hovering over by the brazier, ready to act if I should deviate from the script. Following the grey haired woman’s lead, I stepped to the edge of the stage and we poured the first draught of wine onto the floor. A libation to the Earth Mother.
The first woman in the line headed for the steps on my left whilst the second headed in my direction.
My hands were shaking when I passed the woman the chalice. The strong smell of the wine almost masking that of hemlock and wolfs bane; two powerful natural sedatives which would help with the pain later. She drank it and stepped to my right where Stahl indicated for her to take the steps down to the gravel. This would serve as a waiting area before they were brought before the brazier.
I could hear the sound of the coals crunching in the brazier as the Iron was turned. They’d want to get it right first time so it would be essential that the Iron be hot enough.
I was running out of time.
A second woman approached me and I waited until she’d swallowed the wine before I made my move.
I needed to get my hands on t
he Iron but first I needed to remove my necklace.
The next woman along hesitated and it took a beat for me to realise why. The woman had been crossing to us alternately: first to the left, second to the right. By rights, this woman should be crossing to the other side, not to me.
But then I realised why that wouldn’t work. She had to come to me.
At that moment, the wind cut across in front of the stage and hit the brazier just so, sending a trail of red hot sparks full into the face of the young guard standing behind it. He let out a cry, stepping backwards, his hands flying to protect his eyes. The other man, thinking quickly, picked up the gourd they intended to use after the branding and sloshed it in the other’s face.
While everyone followed this little drama the next woman in line ran up the steps towards me. Someone I’d last seen in Greenwich.
It was Cusack, the Wraith Maiden my mother had previously sent to try and reason with me. She was looking every inch the virginal acolyte now though: her skin pure white, her eyes emerald green, her hair flame red.
As she took the cup from me she said, “Three of our sisters have fallen, their souls are lost to us now.”
She sipped from the cup and made to pass it back.
“And my mother?”
“Your mother is safe. It is time for you to act.”
When she slipped the knife into my hand I almost dropped the chalice. I didn’t dare look at the knife but I knew what it was. Grasping the hilt in one hand, I kept the blade flat against the flesh of my forearm.
As quickly as she’d come, Cusack was moving on and the next woman approached. The knife was getting heavier and I struggled to keep control of it whilst holding the chalice.
I was starting to think that I’d covered my actions reasonably well when I felt someone approach me from behind.
“What have we here?” it was Pavel.
His hand slid around my upper arm, located a pressure point and squeezed. A spasm coursed through my fingers and I dropped the knife into his palm.
He murmured in my ear. “Is this what I think it is?”
I couldn’t bring myself to reply.
Pavel pointed the Seelie Blade at Cusack’s back and a security guard stepped up and grabbed her.
The procession of women had come to a sudden halt with one of the women frozen on the stairs. Anathema dropped the incense burner and jumped off the stage. Cusack had twisted around to look back in my direction.
Her look of disbelief broke my heart.
In the meantime, Anathema had plucked another poisoned charm from her pocket. A simple piece of lead shaped into a bracelet. No doubt stolen from the roof of the local church. She wrapped it tightly around Cusack’s wrist. It was over so quickly I didn’t have time to think about what Cusack had wanted me to do with the Seelie Blade. Strike Stahl down with it? It wasn’t something I was capable of doing even if I’d wanted to.
Why had she even given it to me? If she’d wanted Stahl dead then she’d have been better off doing it herself. I was no cold blooded killer despite what she’d done to Silas.
But it was too late to think of that now.
Pavel held onto me like he was never going to let go. He had won and he was revelling in the moment.
Anathema jerked her head, her pony-tails twitching, and Pavel manhandled me down the stairs, the wine in the chalice spilling onto the gravel.
“What is happening?” Stahl’s anger was clear for all to see. Her ritual had been interrupted. “Where’s Terence?”
Cusack and I were lined up alongside one another.
Anathema took the blade from Pavel and held it up for Stahl to take.
Stahl ignored it, grabbing Cusack’s face instead.
“Who’s this, Bronte? She’s not from the Ministry so she must have something to do with your mother.”
She took the knife then, placing the naked blade against Cusack’s throat.
Stahl spoke softly. “So nice of you to bring my little toy straight back to me. How many of you did we get? Three? Two? One? I’ll know if you’re lying.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“No need. Your presence alone is enough to tell me that your leader still breathes.”
She turned to me. “What was your part in all of this?”
“I’m not even sure.”
“And what about you?” Cusack asked. “What do you intend to do with that?” her eyes indicated the brazier.
Stahl lowered the knife. When she spoke again she made sure everyone could hear.
“Magic changes us all simply by association. The Iron of Fortitude is no different. Its true power comes from its victims. Women capable of incredible magic. Women who, before they died, gave something of themselves to the Iron itself.”
Cusack eyed her with disdain. “If these witches were so powerful why didn’t they use their powers to save themselves?”
Stahl’s eyes shone, “These were honourable women forced to acquiesce to the will of their captors. Often they capitulated in the hope of preventing further bloodshed or, sometimes, in the hope of receiving a quick death. The world of men has never looked kindly on powerful women. ”
“Yes, magic does change those of us who use it,” I said, struggling under Pavel’s grip. “But to expose yourself to the Iron in this way is to expose yourself to the gravest of dangers.”
“And isn’t that worth it if we are to gain access to their knowledge?”
I looked at Cusack for support but her eyes were fixed straight ahead. She was resigned to her fate.
“Don’t you see,” I implored, hoping that I could persuade at least some of the women to re-consider. “Paired with all that magic is the essence of the individual witch herself. Her spirit and her magic are intertwined – you can’t separate one from the other.”
“Just like you and your mother?”
“Will you shut up about my mother,” I pushed hard against Pavel’s chest in the hope of re-bounding onto Stahl but he was just too strong. He reached across and grabbed my shoulder but, in the struggle, managed to break my necklace.
It felt like coming up for air. I was buoyed up again. When I spoke my voice was filled with renewed strength.
“Those spirits have been trapped inside the Iron for far too long. Denied any chance of salvation they’ll have had years to build on their resentment. Once you release them they’re not going to be content just to sit on the side lines. Even if you manage to hold onto your sanity they will cloud your judgement, poison your best intentions. They will prosper. Our only hope is to deny them access in the first place.”
Stahl pressed her mouth close to my ear.
“I think you’ve said enough.”
Stahl stepped back and considered the knife in her hand, angling it first one way then the other. The blade had a strange beauty all of its own with colours swimming beneath the surface. It was like looking at a photographic negative.
I felt Pavel’s arms tighten around me as Stahl readied herself.
I stood up straighter, attempting to prepare myself for what was to come.
“I’ve enjoyed our time together,” Stahl said. “It was only luck that I didn’t get you earlier. In the Land Rover. But – looking back- I can see that would have been a mistake.”
“That was you?”
“Who else?”
The crowd of white smocks parted and Terence stepped through.
“I was in that car.”
Stahl cocked her head, made a dismissive snort. “Collateral damage.”
Then she lunged.
I can only assume that Pavel had been distracted by Terence. Whatever the reason, he didn’t anticipate what I did next. He knew that I couldn’t go forward and so was braced for me to go either backwards or to one side.
In the end I did neither. I just dropped to the floor. He was strong but he hadn’t anticipated having to support a sudden dead weight. The moment he was pulled off balance was the moment Stahl struck.
She ca
ught him just below the clavicle, the blade sinking home with virtually no effort.
Pavel straightened, his fingers flying to the handle sticking out of his chest but something stopped him from pulling it clear.
He looked straight at Stahl and said in a very even voice: “You stabbed me, you stupid bitch!”
No one moved. Everyone could sense something indeterminate had occurred but we didn’t know what. Yes, Pavel had been stabbed but a wound like that rarely proves fatal.
Then the fire-flies stated to dance around the handle of the blade.
I thought at first that I was the only one who could see them, looking up as I was from between Pavel’s legs. Then there was a gasp and someone pointed.
A golden cloud had appeared around Pavel’s shoulder seeming to build in intensity, developing its own strange lilting music. The sound was like something half remembered from childhood and I cowered away.
The light intensified building with such brilliance that it was soon difficult to look at. And whilst I was aware that Pavel was shouting something it all seemed irrelevant, lost as it was in the swelling harmony. He appeared to be wrestling with the handle, weirdly trying to pull himself off the blade. It didn’t make sense and yet it did. The Seelie Blade was fixed in space, suddenly the centre of everything, the glow emanating from it growing so terribly bright that you had to shield your eyes; had to protect yourself as it intensified.
I saw the final pulse of light through closed eyelids. No one could have looked straight at that. It had attained the brilliance of a small star by the end.
When we finally came back to ourselves everything seemed wrong. I looked at the people around me as if noticing them for the first time and, clearly, I wasn’t the only one affected.
It was an effort getting back to my feet.
Pavel was nowhere to be seen and I couldn’t bring myself to contemplate just what that meant.
Urban Witch (Urban Witch Series - Book 1) Page 28
