An Obstinate Witch

by E M Graham

  ‘No one’s asking you, don’t you get it? And if you don’t like the rain, then move away from my cloud.’

  ‘That’s better.’ He stood and peered over the wall. ‘It’s starting to move down to Leith. That place could do with a cleaning.’

  We watched together as the tiny storm moved off, dissipating into the wind, carrying with it my anger and self-loathing.

  ‘You really screwed that up, whatever it was you were trying to do.’ He couldn’t resist sneering at me.

  The goblin’s jabs couldn’t hurt me, for I was willing to admit the truth. ‘I know.’

  He shifted uncomfortably beside me, then reached up and removed his cap. I looked at the sparse bristles growing on his bald pate while he wrung out the sopping wool.

  ‘What were you trying to do, anyway?’ he asked casually. ‘Why would you want to bring a storm down on your own head?’

  ‘That’s not what...’ I began, then stopped. Why bother explaining? ‘It didn’t work. I don’t know why. The Kin were right, I’m just a screw-up.’

  I slumped against the damp stone wall, squatting down on my haunches. ‘It’s no good, I’ll never be able to rescue my mother!’ And with that the tears began, building to a torrent to outmatch the storm which had just passed.

  Trevor squirmed, uncertain how to handle this new storm, hopping from red boot to red boot. ‘Don’t do that,’ he said finally. ‘Stop it, okay? Stop blubbering, I can’t insult you when you get like that.’

  ‘I can’t help it,’ I whined through my tears. ‘My life is just so shit right now. I’m stuck here, my power is at its max with the full moon, yet I can’t even do a simple thing like go to the Ice Kingdom to save her. I am so useless. I’m no witch at all.’

  He stiffened at my side, then grabbed my shoulders with both his hands. ‘Ice Kingdom? You’re still on about that?’ He sounded aghast.

  I nodded, the flow of tears already ebbing. ‘Yeah. Of all places, right? And apparently you can’t get there from here. I tried, but I failed.’

  ‘You’ve actually found a way to the Ice Kingdom?’

  ‘That’s the problem, isn’t it? I thought I did, but I haven’t. I really thought I could do it – I prepared, I translated spells, my power is surging with the full moon and it should have happened but it didn’t. All I got was the storm cloud of my own frustration.’

  I opened my eyes to see his round ones staring back at me, not six inches away. A goblin’s eyes are foreign, in the way a cat’s eyes are with the vertical slit instead of a round pupil, yet I could see his reluctance. His breath was sour.

  ‘The Ice Kingdom,’ he repeated glumly. The goblin appeared to be lost in thought for a moment and then he wandered away from the stones of the ruined chapel to gaze at the city below. When he turned his face towards me again, it was touched with darkness and urgency.

  ‘If you want to go to the Ice Kingdom tonight, then we’d better get the feck off this hill,’ he said. ‘The Uncommon Forces are gathering at the base, and looks like they want to join the party.’

  I ran over to join him at the edge, almost slipping in the wet grass in my haste, and looked to where he was pointing.

  ‘I don’t see anything but shadows down there.’ I squinted and shook my head. ‘Those are just the shadows of the trees in the wind.’

  ‘What wind?’

  It was true. After my own personal thunder storm had moved on to Leith, the hill had been eerily quiet, not a breeze even though we were up so high. I looked down again. The shadows were moving, spreading out over the base of the hill.

  ‘They must have been alerted by my spell,’ I spoke breathlessly. ‘Shit. Cromwell will not be pleased.’

  The goblin looked at with horror in his eyes. ‘Not be pleased? That’s an understatement. How can you be so blasé? Them down there, they kill first and ask questions later. Don’t know about you, but I’m getting the hell out of here.’

  He pushed past me over toward the western aspect of the hill, and when he saw I was rooted to the spot, almost screamed at me. ‘Come on, damnit! We need to get out of here now!’

  I was still watching in horror as the swarming blackness grew and climbed up the base of the hill. ‘They wouldn’t... touch me,’ I said to him. ‘The Kin want me, they...’

  ‘It’s not the Kin!! Does Cromwell like you? Those shady bastards down there answer only to him, and I’m thinking he’d sooner see you dead than a powerful witch. Am I right?’

  He was right. He was so right. I turned on my heel and followed him through the knee high grass and gorse. We were fleeing for our lives.

  I HAD NO WAY OF KNOWING if Cromwell’s forces were following us along the hills, for the night was now pitch black. The moon’s light was uncertain as it sailed between clouds. He led me through secret paths known only to goblins and rabbits down the other side of Arthur’s Seat, through a wooded park until at last, we came to the bottom by a paved road lit by streetlights, but not a single car in sight.

  ‘Quick,’ he said as he lifted up a heavy storm drain. ‘Down here. They probably can’t follow our scent in water.’

  I looked down into the pitch dark hole. I couldn’t see a thing, but the sound of liquid sluggishly flowing seemed a long way down.

  ‘It’s just storm water,’ he sneered. ‘It’s the old system they haven’t gotten rid of yet. Don’t worry, you won’t be running in shit. Now go down fast, I’ve got to close this behind us.’

  So I climbed down the rusted iron rungs at the side of the outlet. I heard the clank as the cover dropped into place and the goblin leapt past me and splashed into the water. It came to about my knees, at exactly the height that made moving through it difficult. Not for Trevor though, he scarpered on ahead of me, moving as if he’d lived in sewers all his life, all the while whispering furiously at me to get my ass in gear.

  We ran and ran that night. Fortunately for me, the power of the Stone still coursed through me even underground so I didn’t tire or flag, and found I could even keep up with Trevor as we made our way up river.

  My sight adjusted quickly down here, with the help of my moon powers. I could even see the glint of eyes of the subterranean creatures we passed, rats perhaps, or something ungodly. I didn’t pause to investigate. At last he stopped by another set of iron rungs leading up. I could feel a slight breeze, and the overhead grate showed the dim light of a streetlamp.

  Before I could grasp the first rung to haul myself up, he stopped me. ‘So what’s your plan now?’

  I shrugged in defeat. ‘I don’t know. Guess I won’t be trying for the Ice Kingdom now. I’ll just find my way home and dry off, if I don’t die of pneumonia first.’ The stream had only come to my knees, but running through it had caused splashing and I was soaked from the waist down, and my jeans were chafing my thighs. I was cold and miserable and a failure.

  ‘You think it’s safe for you out there?’

  ‘Oh come on! Cromwell’s forces were just investigating the unknown flash of magical activity, that’s all, especially as it was so close to Holyrood Palace. It’s their job,’ I told him. ‘It was a dumb place to choose anyway, I should have gone outside the city to try it. Just didn’t think it through enough.’ I shrugged off his hand and turned to the rungs again.

  ‘You really believe that?’ The sneer in his voice made me stop. ‘You really think Cromwell will let you go so easily now he has an excuse to do away with you?’

  I climbed off that first rung and stared at him in the dim glow of the streetlight above.

  ‘How do you know so much about the Kin’s doings, anyway?’

  ‘I keep my ears to the ground,’ he said bitterly. ‘You have to, being a Goblin in this town. I’m a survivor. Had enough of my fellows used as casual target practice by Cromwell’s blessing. This is the perfect opportunity for him to get rid of you.’

  ‘He won’t know I was involved...’ I faltered. Of course he would. My magic imprint was on that thunderst
orm, just like I’d signed my signature or left greasy thumbprints all over it. ‘Well, you’re safe, at any rate.’

  ‘Oh, no. The Uncommon Forces smelled me, you can be sure of that,’ he said glumly. ‘And they’ve probably put out an all-points bulletin on both of us, right now.’

  My legs were suddenly shaky like they were made of jelly, and if there’d been a seat in that sewer, I would have sat. ‘What can we do? Where do we go?’

  ‘Even the Ice Kingdom sounds pretty good right now.’

  I gave a half-laugh, what else was there to do? ‘Apparently, I can’t get there from here,’ I said. It was my turn to be bitter now. Here I was, supposedly such a powerful witch, and I couldn’t even manage a simple Pythagorean spell, during the almost full moon and at a ley line meeting place to boot. ‘I’ve just shown that I’m a spectacular failure at getting there.’

  ‘Yes,’ Trevor agreed. ‘You can’t. But you know who can.’

  ‘Oh, no. No way,’ I shook my head. ‘It’s all bad enough, the trouble I’m in now. Not going to add that one to my list of crimes.’

  ‘Auld Meg is your only chance,’ he said, pushing me out of the way as he leaped up to grab the first rung. ‘I don’t think this is the time to get all moralistic on me, not now.’

  AS TREVOR PUSHED THE IRON GRATE back into place, I straightened up and looked all around me. We were back under the shadow of the bridge again, near the entrance to the Vaults. I shook each leg out to encourage the water to drain off my heavy jeans, but it didn’t do too much to help. I stood in my own growing puddle of storm water as the water seeped out of my boots and onto the cobbles.

  ‘We’re going to need another bottle of whisky for the troll.’

  ‘I can’t do this,’ I said. ‘I can’t... Do you realize what this means for me, for my future? Auld Meg thinks I can free her from this curse, and that’s the only way she’ll help me.’

  ‘And the alternative is...’ He stood there under the streetlight with his damp little goblin sneer. ‘Look, you’ve only got to steal the Chronicle. She said all the information is written in it. It’s not like you’re going to be freeing her – I doubt very much that you could break the curse put on her by the Kin! And if we run fast enough, well, she can’t just leave the dungeon, now, can she?’

  I sighed, because he was right about everything. He was right about Cromwell, and the Uncommon Forces were going to catch up with us sooner or later this evening. Sure, I was a powerful witch tonight– even with all that was happening I could feel the unnatural energies thrilling through me, but I had no way of defending us against the magical forces at Cromwell’s disposal. I didn’t have the education to match my powers, and I had no idea how to handle them.

  And Cromwell wasn’t going to let this sit. It wasn’t just tonight, it was the rest of my future. Hugh and Johanna might try to protect me if I could reach their safety, but until then?

  Why did Hugh have to be away right now? Surely, he would know I’d need him at this point of the moon’s cycle. I needed him right now, but he wasn’t here.

  And I might never get another chance to reach my mother. Would I even survive till the next full moon, let alone to the point in time where I could defend myself against Cromwell and his forces? There were no guarantees of anything.

  And that’s when I made my decision. I wasn’t running from the Covenanters, I was stepping firmly in the direction of my future. Yes, there would be a good chance I would end up being an outlaw after tonight, but I would have saved my mother, and that was more important to me than anything.

  I took a deep breath and moved away from the arch to stand in the full light of the moon and I bathed in it, letting it wash through every pore of me. The magic rose to greet it and felt my power. Make it last, this good feeling, it might be the last time.

  ‘The bottle?’ Trevor was getting nervous, and moved out of the lamp’s reach. He flicked his head at the news agent’s. ‘Ye’ll have to buy another.’

  I reached out the plastic rainbow hued card, then realized what would happen if I used the Kin’s own credit card. Might as well phone Cromwell personally to let him know where I was.

  ‘Let’s hope we have enough cash here.’ I took off my knapsack and rootled around in the pocket where I always stuffed loose change. I counted out what I found. ‘He’ll have to be happy with a smaller bottle.’

  After I’d given the guy behind the counter all my cash, Trevor knocked at the troll’s door and then I heard a ring tone from deep within my bag. It was Hugh. But I’d made my decision and what was the sense of telling him? He couldn’t help me now. I reached down into the bottom of my knapsack and pressed the side button to turn it off, then followed the goblin into the witch’s dungeon.

  16

  THE CORRIDORS WERE STILL LONG AND DARK, with all the weird noises echoing around the damp stone walls. I followed the goblin, looking neither left nor right. I wished the journey would take longer, but it seemed to take less time the second time round, as journeys are wont to do.

  We paused outside Auld Meg’s chamber.

  ‘Maybe...’ I placed my hand on my companion’s shoulder. ‘Maybe we shouldn’t.’

  He turned to give me a searching stare in the light of his candle stub. ‘Go on back out there then. Go on.’

  I grimaced. He was right. Ridiculous to be having second thoughts now. I took a deep breath and walked boldly into Auld Meg’s dungeon.

  Her eyes were the only thing that moved, and they glittered in the dim lights.

  Trevor poked me, urging me to act. I took a step forward, then when Auld Meg didn’t move, took another. I saw the smallest of smiles form on her face as if the stone was almost a fluid medium, dust flaking off as the crevices formed. Yet she still did not attempt to stop me.

  Emboldened I crossed the room and stood before her, ready to leap back at the slightest movement from her, yet still she did nothing.

  ‘Take it quick!’ Trevor squeaked. And just as I moved my hand to lay it on the Chronicle, she began to laugh.

  I withdrew my hand as fast as I could, yet the sound coming from her wasn’t malevolent or scary or threatening, none of the things I’d been expecting. It was a clear tinkle, overlain with a century or more of dust to be sure, but an amused laugh nevertheless, for all the world as if we were sitting down for tea in a period drama and I’d just delighted my hostess with a witty remark. Transfixed, I could do nothing but stare at the crone.

  ‘Yes, Dara Martin de Teilhard,’ the statute said, moving her neck ever so slightly to follow me with her gaze. ‘Take the Chronicle.’ As she spoke, fine particles of dust fell from her face and her hair, swirling in unseen currents of air.

  I stepped further back, uncertain.

  ‘It has everything a young witch needs to know,’ she said. The pure tones of her voice belied her age and appearance. ‘All the knowledge I have gained. All the spells I learned. How to travel through the dimensions, even, if one would want to rescue one’s mother from the Ice King, for example.’

  ‘How do you know?’ I gasped.

  ‘You tell me.’ The crone leaned towards me. The sand was trickling away from her whole body, and with it the wrinkles on her face that had seemed etched in the stone. ‘I am the only one who can help you. Not the handsome Hugh Sabarin, not the Venerable Nachtan in his ivory tower and his books. I am the one who knows all.’

  ‘How?’ I whispered again. ‘How can you know all this if you’ve been stuck in a dungeon for so many years without even seeing so much as the light of day?’

  ‘I have been within myself,’ she said. ‘You think mere stones and spells can hold my mind? You too, have this power, you can never be held, not truly.’

  I stared at her, her eyes burning colorless grey yet there were flickers of violet deep within, lined by the coal of the shadows, and my resolve faltered, melting under her gaze. ‘But...’

  Still I couldn’t, wouldn’t. If only there was another way.
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  ‘Take the book. Think of your mother, Dara.’

  And then I did it. I stepped forward, all the while denying to myself that I was actually doing this, leaping the chasm to my uncertain future. I approached the Chronicle, keeping a wary eye on the witch as I did, alert for her slightest movement. She did nothing, merely watched me the whole time.

  It sat there, dusty and foreboding on the table before her. A simple act, to place my hands on it and remove it from the dungeon, to take it with me and to irrevocably change my life.

  My hands were on the book and a flash of power, light blue lightning ran through my arms. It burned but was delicious too, perhaps like the first rush of heroin in the veins of an addict. And in that touch, I was overcome with impressions of Margaret’s life, of old fashioned dresses and finery, of Scottish burns and glens on lazy summer afternoons, of a tiny stone castle shared with an illicit lover. Her eyes flared as I snatched my hands away, leaving the Chronicle on the table.

  ‘Take the book,’ she urged. ‘It’s your only chance of survival now.’

  She was right, I was in too deeply to turn back now. As I tried to pick it up and ignore everything that flowed from the book to my head, sparks flew in all directions, and I wrestled with the weight of it as if dislodging a boulder from deep within the ground, or a sword from a stone.

  And then I was holding it in my arms, the ancient leather and wood binding cracked and dusty, the foolscap vellum stiff. I had the impression that if I listened very closely, I could hear the song it was singing. I quickly stuffed it into my satchel, to avoid the touch of it on my bare skin, and the impressions died away as fast as they had come. ‘But...’

  ‘But how does this help me, you want to know.’ She was relaxed now, her voice softer. A silvery light came from her body, much as my own skin shone during the full moon. Like it was doing now.

  ‘I am not cursed to this dungeon, as such,’ she said, as she reached her hand to her head and removed her hat. Her movements were slow, as if unused to the movement. ‘I am cursed to stay with the book, until the Chronicle is finished.’