An Obstinate Witch

by E M Graham

  ‘How dare you!’ I stormed over to him, intent on giving him not just a piece of my mind but the whole messy boiling stew of it. Stunned, he attempted to pull himself together but I pointed my finger at him and prepared to tell him off.

  His body arched at the same time I became aware of the blue stream of energy coming from my digit, as if I was a human taser. I had to force my finger to curl inwards in order to stop the flow, horrified at what I had just done, yet a bit of me, deep inside, was jubilant and victorious at finding such an effective outlet for my rage. I waited tensely for him to respond in kind. He was a much more practiced witch than me, after all, and he’d had years of training in magical self-defence, but that inner part of me welcomed the blood sport.

  ‘Don’t you realize that you are walking into a trap?’ he whispered at me from against the fence, wincing as he tried to move his body.

  ‘No, I trust Margaret, I have to, I have no other choice by now. Cromwell was just waiting for an excuse to finish me off, he wouldn’t have let me live till the next full moon anyway. I may never have another chance to get my mother.’

  ‘Margaret?’ He was struggling to stand. ‘It’s Margaret, now? Bloody hell, you’re on a first name basis with Auld Meg, the most feared witch of all time?’

  ‘Yes, I am.’ I had no reason to be ashamed of this connection. I had freed her from the Kin’s the dungeon. I was her equal, she said. And I told him so as I watched him carefully, following every movement he made, just waiting to block whatever he might send to me.

  ‘Equal? You really think she’s going to treat you as an equal? Do you even know why she was cursed to stay underground?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, I do,’ I told him. I lifted my finger at him again in warning as he took a step towards me, but the threat of my magic taser didn’t stop him. His eyes stayed firmly on mine as he took a second step, and my finger faltered. I let him take me in his iron grip again, but he was gentle as he pulled me toward him. ‘The Kin, male dominated, they can’t stand to see a woman so strong in power. They felt threatened, their fragile male egos couldn’t handle it...’

  ‘What the hell? She’s got you blinded by feminist claptrap?’ He let go of me suddenly, and I stumbled back. ‘Dara, you surely didn’t fall for that?’

  ‘So you deny history, Hugh? You deny that the patriarchy did what they could to keep women down and out of power, out of leadership positions?’

  ‘Is Johanna not the Grand Master of Scarp now?’ He shook his head helplessly. ‘Dara. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into this time. It’s so bad, I ...’

  ‘You what?’

  ‘I can’t help you this time. Not if you carry on. If you stop it, right now, this very second, you have a hope of redemption. Possibly. But if you do what I think you’re going to do, it’s finished. There will be no returning for you, do you understand?’

  I was silent. He wasn’t aware of my plan to return Margaret to her dungeon. But would I have the opportunity to do this, when all was said and done? Not if the Kin were ready to pounce. Only if I could get him to help.

  ‘Do you understand?’ His whisper was practically a yell by now as he grabbed me again by the shoulders.

  ‘You’re hurting me!’

  He let go of me immediately. ‘Ach, I’m sorry. But...’ He looked at me and lifted his hand to me again.

  I flinched, yet his touch was the gentlest caress, his fingers light on my cheeks.

  ‘Please,’ he whispered. His eyes filled my field of vision, those mesmerizing green shot with gold that glowed in the fading light. ‘If you do this, you will be banned forever more from the Kin and their world. You might save your mother, but at what cost? She wouldn’t want you to do this, Dara. There is plenty of time, later. Your power isn’t going to go anywhere, you know this, deep in your heart. You will only grow stronger with time. Please,’ he was begging me now, I feel the desperation coming off him. ‘Please don’t go through with this. For her sake. For mine.’

  Were those tears in his eyes? I couldn’t tell, because my own eyes were starting to swim, too.

  ‘For us.’ His voice was husky. ‘Again, please, just wait. We can’t have a future if you’re banned by the Kin. You will always live on the run. Think of Willem – do you want to be like him?’

  I blinked back the tears. I was not going to be like the Dutch failed-wizard, never in a million years. Why couldn’t he see my side of the story?

  And I couldn’t believe that what he said was true, that I would always be on the run from the Kin, that we could never be together, Hugh and I. And I would prove it.

  ‘Come with me,’ I whispered in his ear. ‘You and me, and Margaret, we can show the Kin that there’s nothing to be feared from the Crystal Charm Stone power. I’m still me, aren’t I? Just a ‘me’ with more magic.’

  His gaze faltered. I pressed on.

  ‘And we can do this,’ I insisted. ‘With you on our side, they would see, they would listen. I don’t want to be on the run, I don’t want to subvert anything. I want to be me, and I want to use my power for good, for the benefit of all.’

  He closed his eyes. There was pain on his face. I held him in my arms, our bodies warm against the chill of the evening.

  ‘And if you help me, that will let Fergie off the hook,’ I said. ‘She doesn’t want to be mixed up in all this. I need a third witch. Imagine, if you will, what we could do together.’

  With those words, he wrenched his eyes back open and stepped away from me as if my touch had scalded.

  ‘Let Fergie go,’ he said furiously. ‘I repeat, do not carry through with your plans. You don’t know what’s going to happen.’

  ‘So what, Hugh? What will the Kin do to me? And where are your precious Kin? I don’t see them around. If they wanted to stop us, why don’t they do it now?’

  ‘Because they’re waiting,’ he said slowly. ‘Cromwell and his faction are waiting for you to act. Don’t you understand? They’re giving you enough rope to hang yourself.’

  We stared at each other in the gloom.

  ‘There will be no return,’ he said. ‘You understand this?’

  I nodded slowly. ‘I have to do this.’

  ‘Then, it’s good-bye. For us.’ He turned then and like a wraith disappeared into the shadows of the hedges, leaving me only with a coldness where he had touched me and a heart torn in two.

  19

  IT WAS WITH A HEAVY HEART that I joined the others. Hugh was gone, and I planned to betray Margaret, if I got the chance. But that would be later. First, I needed to use her to get to the Ice Kingdom.

  ‘At the ready, goblin?’ Margaret asked.

  Trevor nodded. I could feel the excitement growing in his little frame. Was he too touched by the moonlight, or was there something else?

  The gate had been locked, but with a word from Margaret the lock clicked and it swung open for us. We crossed under it, and walked into another world, one not visible from the street or with Normal eyes. It was, to all intents, a cemetery with ancient and modern granite stones all lined up in the lush grass and among the old trees at the bottom of the tall hill. Yet, I could tell at once that this was just on the surface of reality, so to speak, in the mundane world. If one delved further in, past the evidence of human life and death, one saw the Alt thrived there, the magic in every tree and bush.

  It was this nature that caused humanity to declare places holy. At some level deep within the brain, even mankind could sense the magic within a place, a spot where the ley lines converged and merged, and humans would typically build their churches and temples therein. But the summit of Tomnahurich stood alone, the Christians had not been allowed to claim it, and it remained the last stronghold of the Fae. You could feel the magic of it in the very air, in the oxygen given off by the tree leaves.

  We had only walked a few feet within the gate when one of those Fae appeared before us, standing high on a marble tomb and looking down on us. In his hand
he held a spear of wood, its point sharp enough to show that it was meant for business. He was dressed in a manner reminiscent of Robin Hood, his clothing made of leaves and petals sewn together, his hose woven of the finest spiders’ webs. This Fae warrior was clean shaven, as many of his kind were. He was young, but he was fearless.

  ‘Halt.’ This was said quietly, but his voice rang through the space. ‘What business have you here? This is the kingdom of the Fae after dark, no humans might enter.’

  ‘I am Margaret Forsythe.’ Her voice was strong and confident that she was to be recognized. ‘I would speak with Aonghas, Ruler of the Sithechean of Tomnahurich. Bring me to him, lackey.’

  The spear did not quiver at her words or her near-insult. ‘You are the witch Margaret,’ the fairy said. ‘The one cursed to dwell beneath the city of Edinburgh. How are you freed?’

  ‘That is a story for Aongas, not you. Bring me to him poste-haste, or you’ll feel the lash of my displeasure.’

  Watching Margaret holding her own against the fairy, not giving an inch, I felt a thrill, for this was to be my future too. The old Dara, the person I had been before being touched by the Stone and its power, that Dara would have been terrified and ingratiating and pleading for admittance, for the Fae are well-known to be a nasty and conceited folk. Their allegiances turn like quick-silver, they are impetuous in their actions, and never to be trusted, at least the ones I knew were. To boldly walk into their territory and demand an audience with the Fae King, let alone to insult one of them, took more than nerve. It required a full belief in one’s own power and an integral knowledge that the Fae would not dare to cross her.

  Margaret held her head high, a small smile on her face, for she knew full well this was just a formality. The Fae King Aonghas would grant her an audience, along with anything else she requested, there was no doubt in her mind.

  I faltered in my step with the realization that I was hungry to learn all that Margaret had to teach me. Could I really abandon her back to that terrible dungeon?

  All of a sudden we were surrounded by the fairy on all sides, every tombstone and monument crowded with their small bodies as they gazed down on the famous witch who dared make demands of their king.

  I KNEW THE FAIRY FOLK BACK HOME, had close dealings with them on more than one occasion, I even broke into their burrow once when the occasion required. Although these specimens surrounding us now were of the same ilk, they were nothing like that sorry lot who lived a hard-scrabble existence on the South Side Barrens in Newfoundland, clinging to the rock and weakened by the salt spray of the cold North Atlantic Ocean in the hopes of being summoned back to their fatherland and Oberon’s good graces. Those fairies depended on their sustenance through weeds and road-kill, fighting the gulls and rats for dead carcasses. Rags were their only protection from the harsh winters, and they depended on druggies and drunks and other castoffs of human society to do their work.

  But these folk before us – these were the Fae of legend in their full majesty, proud in their heritage and cognizant of their power in the world of super natural. This was no mere glamour like that worn by the poor fairies back home to hide their true nature, for these Scottish Fae knew their own worth and the power of their King. They owned Tomnahurich.

  These beings glowed with their magic, but I knew we did too, Margaret and I, no less than they.

  A female Fae stepped up, her silks and gold head piece declaring she was of royal blood. ‘You would speak with my father, Meg of the Vaults?’

  ‘Margaret of the Crystal Charm Stone will speak with Aonghas.’

  ‘And your companions?’

  ‘Dara, also of the Stone’s fame.’

  The daughter of the king looked hungrily upon me. ‘You. The Colonial who dared to break the tradition of the Kin. You are well named, I think,’ she said, and nodded to the sentry. ‘Let them pass. I will accompany them to the King.’

  She turned and walked away, down a long lane way under a canopy of trees, their branches just beginning to leaf. In full summer, no moonlight would have touched us, but now in the spring of the year the Goddess Diana followed us with every step, bathing us in the shadows of the spidery tree limbs. I glanced at Margaret by my side, her head held high, her footsteps unerring even in the dainty boots built for a stroll through Harrods, not a gravelled road. She turned to me and smiled. In that glance I felt the warmth, the solidity of our partnership.

  No, I could not even think of bringing her back to the Kin, no matter that I held the Chronicle in my power.

  The hill was a huge, unnatural-looking tor set in the otherwise fairly flat landscape. No doubt humans ascribed its existence to the erratic paths of glaciers, but I knew it had to be the work of ancients, of fairies.

  The fairy princess led us up a tiny path known only to rabbits and the Fae. We climbed through the long grasses, coming out again to meet the continuation of the gravelled path.

  Here, I paused to let Fergie catch up with me. She was still pale, her hair a solid helmet with not a curl out of place and she wouldn’t meet my eye, just trudged up the hill as if she was heading for her doom.

  I was still shaken after my encounter with Hugh, where I’d bested him in a magical show down. I’d never dreamed such a thing would happen, or could happen. The power of the Stone was running high in my blood and I knew, I just knew, I couldn’t fail. Yet at the same time, the enormity of what I was doing hit me, for the run in with my lover had brought home to me that my actions were not without effect on others.

  ‘It’s not too late to back out,’ I said somberly, in a voice pitched that only she could hear.

  She didn’t reply, just kept putting one foot ahead of the other as we ascended.

  I took a deep breath, and admitted what had been bothering me all night. ‘It was wrong of me to rope you in. You were drunk, and I forced you to come along, and it was really shitty of me, and I’m sorry. You can leave, I won’t stop you. I won’t let Margaret stop you.’

  ‘I thought you needed three witches,’ she said, staring at the path ahead of us.

  I shrugged. ‘We’ll figure something out.’ After all, surely the two most powerful witches in the Kin, on this night of the full moon, surely between the pair of us we could manage to get me to the Ice Kingdom.

  She stopped then and turned to me. ‘I knew, I just knew there was going to be something big,’ she said. ‘Being a Hedge Witch, I have precognition. That’s why I left Scarp, because I was shit terrified what would happen if I stayed around you. And I was right. But waking Auld Meg! I never dreamed even you would do such a thing.’

  Before I could say a word, she plunged in again. ‘I always knew I was destined for bigger things than anyone in my family had ever had. Johanna knew this too, that’s why she worked to get me to the island. But then I met you and all that shit went down and I didn’t want any part of it, so I renounced any ties with the Kin. When I left Scarp, I figured I would settle for Glamouring, and I would excel at it, and I’d still achieve more in my life than my mother, or aunts or sisters, so it would be enough without risking my life, which would happen if I stuck with you.’

  ‘Yet here you are,’ I said with a question in my voice.

  ‘Here I am,’ she said rather glumly. ‘I guess I’m already in trouble with the Kin for just coming this far.’

  ‘You can still leave,’ I pressed. ‘Tell them the truth, I made you come, you’re here unwillingly and you can say you ran away the first chance you could.’

  ‘But how else are you going to bring your mother back?’ Fergie asked me softly. I turned to see her smiling at me, and my heart almost burst. Fergie, who pretended to be so hard on the outside yet she melted for any sob story. ‘Besides, this is my destiny. You need me. We’re in this together, kid.’

  ‘Does your second sight tell how this is going to end?’

  ‘Nah,’ she replied. ‘Just that it’s guaranteed to be messy, because you’re involved. But I always knew th
at, even before I met you.’

  Yet another turn, always ascending, and we entered a crater at the top of the hill. Here, away from the trees, we bathed in the full light of the moon rising over the top. And then up again, a stone staircase set in the loam and we entered the throne room of Aonghus.

  The Fae of Inverness had no need to hide underground. His throne sat in a long clearing, surrounded by mossy stones with strange carvings on them, not the works of humans. Beyond the stones lived ancient trees, the ancestors of the Fae, their wrinkled faces indulgently watching the proceedings before them.

  Aonghas looked upon our approach from his throne of solid rock hewn from the hill.

  Margaret gave a small bow in acknowledgement, and the three of us behind her rushed to do the same.

  ‘So then,’ he said. His deep voice was soft and almost Scottish, but with foreign Celtic roots showing in his vowels. ‘Margaret of Forsythe. Well comest thou to Tomnahurich.’

  ‘I thank thee, mine host.’ The old formal language flowed easily from her. ‘I come in peace.’

  ‘And peace be with us,’ the king acknowledged. He relaxed his stance a mite, leaning back on the stone and immediately dove into the business for the night. ‘What bringst thou here to the holy land of the Fae?’

  ‘I wouldst seek the portal to the Ice King.’

  ‘A witch of your stature can accomplish such a task on any mount or meeting of the leys,’ he observed. ‘I repeat, what bringst thou here to my kingdom?’

  The Fae king and Margaret recited these words as if enacting predetermined steps of a familiar dance. They each had small smiles on their faces, and both knew the outcome of this exchange. I realized he wasn’t challenging her – this was an age old technique in bargaining. The Fae king was merely establishing that she needed the use of Tomnahurich, and so would be forced to pay as inflated a price as he could squeeze out of her. It was merely a game amongst equals, with both sides winning.

  He indicated a large bench-like stone lying flat, to his side. ‘Come, sit here with your protégé, let us talk in comfort.’