by E M Graham
‘Don’t owe you anything.’
‘Cheap witch b...’ I didn’t quite catch his last word, but it wasn’t spoken with vehemence so I didn’t take offence. We fell into step like old companions.
‘Cake?’
I looked at him from the sides of my eyes. He hadn’t changed any. Still the filthy stocking cap covering up the greasy bristles on his head, still had the jaunty way of sneering at everyone around him. And I still had some questions for him.
‘Okay.’ We stopped in front of a cafe with its delights on display in the window. ‘What’re you having?’
He got up close to peer in and I hauled him back. ‘Don’t make a mess on the window. Someone has to clean that every day.’
‘That one,’ he said, a long claw pointing to the tallest, most chocolatey confection. The layers of cake were held together with cocoa butter cream and the sides were covered in white coconut.
I carried the cakes in their napkins till we were sitting on our customary seat at the base of the statue outside of St. Giles’. He reached over to grab his portion but I held it out of his reach. I had to ask him something that had been bothering me since the night I’d met Auld Meg.
‘Were you working with Willem?’
He gaped at me, showing all his needlelike teeth. ‘No!’ he squawked with his hand over his heart for sincerity. ‘I’d never...’
Of course I didn’t believe him. ‘Did the Kin get him afterwards?’
He looked to the ground and nodded.
‘He’s all locked up?’
Trevor shrugged, still not meeting my eye. ‘Or whatever it is they do with law-breaking wizards. Now can I please have that cake?
‘Ha! I didn’t think you knew the P word,’ I said as I handed the sweet to him. I still suspected him of working with Willem, and he must have been embarrassed about it. But if Willem was safely locked away, there was no reason I couldn’t use Trevor too. After all, he needed to get his daily cake from someone.
According to the text Nachtan had translated from Pythagorus, the actual place of the spell was of the utmost importance. It had to be a high area on a ley line preferably, those lines of magical energy which transverse the globe. Usually, the earliest inhabitants of an area had already sussed out these places and declared them holy. They’re often marked with standing stones and burial sites, temples and churches. Scotland was full of these places, so it should be fairly easy to find one close to home.
And a local goblin would know the best of these.
‘What do you want to see?’ He hadn’t thanked me for the cake, but at least he was holding back on the insults for a change.
‘How about some place that’s, I don’t know, holy?’
‘Like a church?’ he asked rudely, again spraying the chocolate crumbs at me. ‘There’s nothing holy left in this town. The Christians are everywhere, in case you haven’t noticed,’ he said nastily. ‘Oh, look, there’s a church. Hey. Another church.’ He stood in the middle of the street and pointed each time he said the C word. ‘Ooh, what’s that huge spire down there in the valley? Could it possibly be... another church?’
I tried to flick the soggy crumbs off my front without touching them. ‘What do you have against churches? They’re sort of harmless. In fact, they teach peace and love and tolerance, instead of telling people to kill nasty super natural creatures like goblins.’
He stuck out his lower lip and might have spit on the ground if his mouth wasn’t full of cake.
‘Your kind should be happy that there are so many churches,’ I added, to make sure the zing found its target.
‘I don’t like them because they take over the true holy places in the land,’ he said after he swallowed. ‘They mess up the energies for the rest of us.’
I could sort of see his point, and besides, for my purposes I would need a place that wasn’t full of human beings wandering around and gawking. An outside spot would suit me better, one that didn’t get locked up at night. ‘Well, are there any spots around here that you consider holy that haven’t been built over?’
‘There are a few. But I don’t know if I want to show them to you, being a human and all.’
‘I’m a witch,’ I reminded him, but that didn’t sway him.
‘Oh look,’ I said suddenly, pointing into the tourist shop window across the road. ‘That red scarf – it’s the exact same shade as your boots.’
He turned and I could see the longing in his eyes which morphed into calculation, as I thought it might.
‘Okay,’ he said reluctantly. ‘I’ll bring you to Arthur’s Seat. But you have to buy me the scarf first.’
HE WAS QUITE THE SIGHT as he led me through the Royal Mile, for those who had the eyes to see him. Carefully tap-tapping down the cobbled stones in his red heeled boots with the new scarf flapping in the wind, even his cap was set at a jaunty angle. Trevor was the proudest goblin I’d ever seen. The red looked good on him, I realized, sort of cancelling out the natural greenish pallor of his skin.
‘Where’re you taking me?’
He pointed further down to the end of the road, to a tall hill off to the right. ‘There. That’s Arthur’s Seat. Though of course Arthur was never here, that’s just a load of bollocks made up by stupid humans.’
I stopped to take a good look at the rocky summit. ‘No church on the spot? That’s odd, isn’t it,’ I thought aloud. ‘It’s the perfect place for a monastery, you’d think.’
‘The King protected it for us,’ he replied with a toss of his cap. ‘That’s the palace of Holyrood, down below it, see, in amongst all the trees.’
‘Oh, it’s inside the palace estate,’ I said. This was not promising. ‘I was really looking for a place that would be accessible after dark.’
‘Oh?’ His eyes lit up at that bit of information and he was onto it like a dog with a rat. ‘Why? What are you doing at night?’
Shit. I should have known better than to speak aloud. I certainly didn’t want to be dragging a goblin with me to the Ice Kingdom, no matter how well dressed he was. ‘Never mind,’ I told him firmly. ‘That’s not your business.’
‘Hmph.’ He kicked a chip wrapper out of his way. ‘You shouldn’t have secrets from me. I’m helping you, in fact I’m your only friend here.’
Never in a million years would I have described our relationship as a friendship, but I let that go and hoped he would too.
We were drawing close to the hill, and I was pleased to note there were no gates or wall surrounding it. The sign at the footpath even stated the park was open twenty-four hours a day. Today was Saturday, so there was no charge for us to enter. I wanted to climb in daylight first before attempting it in the middle of the night, moonlit though it would be, just to make sure this was the right location for my plans. I don’t know exactly what I was looking for – perhaps vibes, perhaps just the general setting.
There was a road which wound around the hill to the summit, but Trevor led me up over the rocky crags, straight as the crow flies. It was alright for a goblin, even one in high heels, but it was not easy on this human.
‘So why did you want to come here?’ Trevor couldn’t let it go. We were now sitting at the summit, the Seat. Edinburgh spread out before us in the valley below.
This was the perfect spot. I closed my eyes and looked for the magic within the hill. There, I could feel it buzzing, the ley lines humming and doing their thing. This would do fine. I began to feel excited as I realized how close my plans were coming to fruition.
‘I want to commune with nature, alright?’ I replied shortly. ‘That’s all. I miss the wild from back home.’
I could feel his eyes burning into me. To take his mind off my business, I reached into my satchel for the stash of chocolate Hugh had bought me which I hadn’t eaten and brought a Dairy Milk bar out of my knapsack, dangling it before him. He refused to be teased, snatching the whole thing from my hand and disappearing it into his mouth, plastic wrapper and
all. I could only look on horrified as he slowly spit the purple shiny material out, sucking every last bit of taste as he did so.
‘You are really the most disgusting creature I’ve ever met.’ And that was saying something, for I’d experienced the Alt of the old sailing port in my home town.
‘You’re just annoyed that I’m cleverer than you,’ he told me, then he sat back to enjoy the sugar rush.
I had all the elements I needed. The words to the spell, the perfect location and my intention. And the moon was at its fullest, with the power was thrumming in me as I sat here on the high spot. I was quite proud of myself.
And I was content to ignore the old adage that states Pride Cometh Before the Fall. After all, I was invincible, or close enough.
‘PATSY.’ SHE WAS IN THE KITCHEN of Mrs. Mac’s, finishing off the evening supper dishes, standing on her stepping stool to reach the sink She turned at the sound of my voice, casting a sharp eye up and down the length of me.
‘I’m going out tonight,’ I told her in a low voice. ‘Can you keep Mrs. Mac at bay again?’
She wasn’t nearly so happy about it this evening, not like last time.
‘What are you up to?’
‘I’m just... going out to do something I need to do,’ I said. And under her hard stare I added, ‘I might be a while. Like a day or two.’
‘You’re practically glowing,’ she said. ‘That time is upon you.’ She jutted out her chin while she thought.
‘I know you’re doing something they wouldn’t like,’ she said finally. ‘But what’ll I tell Mrs. Mac?’
‘I don’t know.’ I hadn’t thought about my landlady’s reaction if I didn’t show up for breakfast tomorrow morning. ‘Tell her I’m not well or something. It’s not like she’ll bother to check on me, is it?’
The Brownie nodded reluctantly. ‘Alright then. But what about if Mister Hugh asks?’
I relaxed at her acquiescence. She’d had me worried there for a moment. ‘Oh, don’t worry about him, he’s still out of the country on Kin business. But if on the off chance you’re speaking with him, tell him I’ve gone to get Mom. He’ll understand.’
ARMED WITH NOTHING BUT MY BOOK and my intention, I slipped out of the house while it was still dusk, for I didn’t want to waste a moment. The streets I followed were quiet, I could hear snatches of revelry carried on the wind in the clear night coming from the hard core pubs as the students celebrated their weekend off from studies, but they did not cross my path, nor I theirs. Even so, it felt like unseen eyes were behind me, although I could see no one else. I kept to the shadows where I could.
At last I stood at the foot of Arthur’s Seat. I could have easily taken the road up to the summit, the moon shone so brightly, but instead I went cross country, taking the route Trevor had shown me. The uphill climb didn’t bother me at all this time, the energy was pulsing through me like a strobe and I had plenty to draw on. The more I used, it seemed, the more came to me. I felt like I could have run up the hill that evening and not even breathed hard with the effort.
I had no need of a flashlight to light my way even over the rough rocky land, for my eyes were attuned to the tiniest pebble and blade of grass. I could see my skin glowing silver, even in the parts where the light of the moon didn’t reach. At this moment of time, with the pulse of the Stone’s power humming through my body, I was invincible.
Once I reached the summit, the sun had fully set. Edinburgh spread out before me at my feet, and off in the distance behind me the moon danced on the choppy waters of the sea like an extension of the city lights. Holyrood Castle was invisible behind the dark trees, and there was no other soul around me – I was alone in the midst of a barren wilderness. I was on top of the world, physically and mentally.
I laughed into the ever present wind and tied my hair back to stop it whipping back and forth. This was it then.
There was no need for me to open the book in which I’d copied the spell that evening while waiting for the time to come, I’d memorized it by heart, in the original Greek. I’d Googled a free site which helped you speak like a native, going over and over the pronunciation. I’d thought this added touch was a stroke of genius.
Some people think that in order for a spell to be effective, you need all sorts of external props like pentagrams and candles and incense, but it’s not true, especially when the spell caster has the confidence I carried that night. I had me, the power of the Crystal Charm Stone, and my intention and the thrum of the ley lines in the very rock itself, and I should need nothing more to carry me away off to the northern court of the Ice King.
Even the spell itself shouldn’t have been necessary, nor the added power of Arthur’s Seat, but as it was my first time attempting this kind of action, I bowed to tradition.
I closed my eyes and began the chant, feeling the meaning of each word as it was spoken, and weaving its place into my intention. The wind continued to whip all around me, bringing with it only the far off cry of gulls. After hard concentration and total absorption in my task, I opened my eyes ready to be dazzled by the wonders of the Ice King’s throne room. However, there nothing but the lights of Edinburgh, unchanged from moments before.
What went wrong? I traced back the steps I’d taken in my mind. Perhaps I shouldn’t have tried saying the spell in the original Greek – no matter the wonders of the internet, perhaps I’d gotten something mispronounced. No matter, I knew the words I needed in English, too.
I rested for a moment, facing north towards my destination, and took a deep breath. It was important to remain calm and to be centered and confident in all matters when casting spells. Once again, I closed my eyes and pictured the Ice King’s cavernous throne room, and my mother in her plain dress. Another deep breath, and I intoned the words aloud, in English this time, all the while feeling my intention like it was reality.
And again, nothing happened.
Fighting against the panic rising in my mind, I furiously thought through all the steps. Everything had been done perfectly and my intention was pure. Perhaps I needed to rethink my approach.
I sat on the highest rock while I sorted things out in my mind. Firstly, the basis of this whole spell was to be in two places at one time, as Pythagorus had outlined. Perhaps I’d been concentrating my intention solely on being in the Ice Kingdom. After all, the old Greek philosopher magi hadn’t really explained about the intention part. That must be where I’d gone wrong, for I could think of no other thing that wasn’t perfect in my preparation.
Could I intend to be in two places at once? How did that even feel? If I couldn’t imagine it, then there was no way this whole plan would work. I cursed aloud at my stupidity, my ignorance, my lack of knowledge, then pulled myself together.
Back in the early days at home, when I’d just discovered the existence of Alt, I’d learned to be very careful about the time I spent there. I had gotten to the point where I could be in both realities at once – like straddling a fence, I could see my own world, with a shadowy Alt superimposed.
It had been a game back then, but this was for real, with very high stakes involved. Was this what I needed to aim for? The spell had to work this time. Drawing the deepest breath yet, I stood again and faced north.
In my loudest voice, I intoned the words with force, all the while holding myself, my mind, in the two places at once. I was here in this reality on the summit of Arthur’s Seat with the city spread below me at my feet, and yet I was also in the cold kingdom, by the great fireplace and beside my mother. I could almost reach out and touch her.
But it was only almost, and it was only in my imagination.
I opened my physical eyes to great disappointment, yet again. I sat on my rock once more and slumped.
Was it me? Had I been too anxious, tried it too soon? Perhaps I should have waited six hours until the moon had reached its absolute zenith. Stupid, stupid. I could kick myself. All this power running through my veins and I couldn’t
even smarten up enough to do things properly. I let out a roar which surprised even me. I put my whole self into that long cry which came straight from my heart, all my emotions of anguish, self-doubt and plain old annoyance at being Dara Martin.
Thunder cracked directly overhead, and lightning forked dangerously close to my perch. I looked up, way up, to a dome of roiling clouds. The moon was still off to the west, and the sky was clear all around except directly over my head. The skies lit up again, and then came the rain crashing down in a sheet.
15
‘FOR THE LOVE OF...’ I brought my jean jacket over my head, not that it would do much good to keep me from being drenched, and I scurried along the slippery path to find shelter of some kind. There was an old ruin, a tiny ancient chapel by the looks of it, just down around the bend in the path nestled into a small dale, and I approached its stone walls, huddling there to avoid the worst of the rain.
‘You’re a feckin’ idiot, like I said,’ Trevor slumped against the wall next to me, water dripping off his long nose. He looked at me. ‘Just stop this, would ye?’
‘What? Where did you come from?’ I asked him, my voice raised over the howling wind. ‘Were you spying on me?’
‘Of course,’ he yelled back at me. ‘Ye wouldn’t tell me what you were at, I had no choice, did I? You’re awfy stingy, anyone ever tell you that? Now, stop this storm. It’s washing all my protective layer away.’
I looked down at the sodden ground, the puddles growing larger by the moment.
‘I don’t know how to stop it.’
‘Ye don’t know crack, if you ask me. Not much of a witch then, and you supposed to be this big, new scary power,’ he said, rolling his eyes. ‘Don’t know why I bother hanging out with you, ye’re not very good at it. You’re more of an embarrassment if you ask me.’
I didn’t know how to stop the storm I’d caused, but the weather did lessen somewhat as I turned my attention away from my anguish and the downpour, and fixated on the nasty little goblin.
