by Jill Harris
The Shock Box
A Gothic romance
Jill Harris
For Julie - who inspires the Gothic wherever she goes!
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Afterword
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Jill Harris
Chapter 1
"Dark clouds hung brooding o'er the cold grey sea,
And wintry blasts all mournfully swept by..."
--Charlotte Elliott
Templesea. [A seemingly ordinary village on the Jurassic coast of Dorset, Southern England.]
January 1855
When Captain Branwell Henry Fortescue Hughes came to Templesea, it soon became known that he brought a demon back with him.
After much consideration, the sea priestess Lydia called her three daughters to the place of their birth. The girls had grown up in Templsea, in a cave beneath Sea Witch Cove, and she knew they would want to share her burden, and help if they could to save the town.
Lydia lit a fire, prepared a stew, and waited.
Her daughters had to swim across oceans to get home. Each one had ordered Lydia to buy them such things as they found hard to find in the far flung islands of the Indian Ocean and the Caribbean Sea.
When they arrived, it was together as three.
Lydia greeted them, embraced them, and gave them the things they asked for.
For a moment, as she breathed in the glorious scent of sea spray whilst clasping each girl in her arms, she thought of the human men who had fathered her children. Handsome, wild, kind men. As much as Lydia had loved them, they had died. Her eyes prickled with tears.
Even a sea priestess bows to the gods of death when they come.
Blythe, who had ordered a circular embroidery loom to keep her hands busy, set about making a shawl decorated with shells.
Constance in her new black frock coat, had taken to wearing a monocle, which looked charming as she gazed at herself in the mirror.
And Sapphire, who had asked for books and whose sharp eyes missed nothing in the dim light of the cave, opened a copy of Emily Bronte"s novel, Wuthering Heights.
Each of her girls was born in salt water. Lydia brought them into the world alone, underwater, with only the movement of the tides to ease her pains as she laboured in the ruins of the sunken temple of Sulis-Minerva, which lay beneath the waves a little way out from the East cliff.
Lydia, Constance, Sapphire and Blythe toasted their gathering, drinking the blue lotus wine Blythe had sent back from India a few months earlier. Above them, waves smashed against the rocks. Water dripped from the ceiling creating elegant columns of mineral deposits, stalactites and stalagmites. Candlelight threw flickering shadows on the walls as the girls told tales of their adventures.
It felt strange and lovely, to have the four of them gathered together for the first time in ten years. Lydia sighed. If only she had a different reason to bring her children back.
"In all my long years as a maiden, a lover and a mother, I've never had reason to send out a distress call," Lydia said.
Her daughters went silent.
Lydia continued. "The song of the ancient cry for help was carried by whales through the restless oceans. I'd hoped it might wake the great serpent of St Helena, so she could come and advise us."
The daughters all exchanged mournful glances. The great sea serpent, Tiamat, was the grandmother of the spirits of water and salt.
"They say she died a few days back. Taken by a whaler out by the Cape of Good Hope," Sapphire said.
"Ah, so she decided her time with us was over," Lydia said, her lip trembling. For a thousand years there had been an exodus as the old ones left earth for other places.
She didn't like it, but then, when her own time came, she would have to accept it with grace. But not until she was ready to leave her children to watch over the oceans.
Blythe threaded her needle. A salty tear trickled down her cheek. "They've taken so many of our wise elders. I loved Tiamat. It is too sad."
The four women bowed their heads in remembrance of the great wise serpent of the sea.
After a few minutes had passed, Sapphire looked up. "You didn't have to send a song with pods of whales. They get distracted. Men hunt them night and day, and their routes meander all over the place as a consequence. Next time, just send an electrical telegraph. It transmits almost instantly."
Lydia exhaled loudly, stirring the pot of fish stew with renewed vigour. "I'm too old to change my ways simply because humans can"t stop playing with fire."
"Electricity is not fire," Sapphire said. "It is a different form of energy entirely. The god Thor is an expert on the science of electro-magnetism. Go talk to him if you want a proper explanation."
"But lightening is electricity and fire. I've seen a tree burned to the ground when struck by lightening. So they must be the same thing. In essence," Blythe said, her beautiful brow creased in a frown.
Sapphire shook her head patiently. "No, dear sister. Just because a bolt of Thor's power causes a fire, doesn't mean it"s the same thing."
"I heard that the whole universe is electric. That's how the Creatrix, holy mother of us all, made the heavens and the world. It is a form of magic, ever flowing, ever giving. Like love," Blythe said.
"But mother has her own way of doing things," Constance said, lighting a cigar. "We cannot fault her for that. If she wants to send messages written in seaweed on the backs of dolphins, then she will do just that. Our job is simply to hear what she has to say about why she brought us here. Not how she did it."
"I'm only saying that she could update her methods," Sapphire said.
Lydia held up her hands for quiet. "Daughters of mine, I know it's been difficult for all of you to come home. You've forgotten the cold bite of winter. I've watched you from afar, swimming in warm southern waters. And I'm comforted that you came. But, as you know from the tone of my call. I have bad news."
The cave fell silent except for the bubbling pot.
Lydia sipped her wine, sensing the tension broiling in the air. Her girls were nervous about what she might say, what she might ask them to do. Even unflappable Constance.
They had good reason.
For four hundred years under Lydia"s watchful eye, the town of Templesea where magic
leaked up through the rocks beneath the waves, had remained relatively calm.
There had been problems along the way but nothing she couldn't deal with. The cave itself guarded one of the largest, most ornate gates to the dark lands of Ifreann, locked by Merlin himself with spells unspoken since that time. Her daughters were still relatively young yet they had a duty to their mother, to the town, and to the world.
They were all Lydia had to help her keep the gate closed against the writhing, squealing, hungry things waiting in the darkness. If those things ever escaped, the land of the Britons would be consumed by hatred, fear and death. Brother would turn against brother. Sister would betray sister.
The land would be laid waste in civil unrest, war and murder. And then it would spread.
Lydia shivered to think of it. She stared at the running water for clarity. Warp Brook, a tributary of the River Verbon, gurgled along the eastern side of the cave. Constance dipped her empty glass in it and held it with both hands as she drank. When she was finished, she dabbed the corners of her mouth with a white napkin and sat down.
"I've missed the taste of Warp Brook. Such clear hints of meadow flowers with just a soupçon of iron and magnesium. There's no other taste quite like it," Constance said.
Sapphire rolled her eyes. "You always have to be such an aesthete. No wonder you spend so much time in Paris."
Constance shrugged. "I like being surrounded by beauty. But I also work hard for the poor and wretched, whispering hope into their hearts. Last I heard, Sapphire, you never stayed long enough in one place to appreciate the subtle flavours of the local water."
"I teach children all over the world how to use their imaginations. That's the only way to get rid of the hideous corruption creeping up on humanity," Sapphire said.
Constance, who had taken to wearing men's clothes and riding on the backs of sharks, put her booted feet on the table with a thud. "Sisters, let's make the most of this time together. Have some more wine. It took me a year of searching the islands of India to get hold of that bottle. Besides, I think mother"s going to put us to work. Probably because we've got a case of hideous corruption in Templsea," she said. Turning to Lydia. "I'm right aren't I?"
Constance had said what they all knew. She didn't hide her intuitive nature, or the ferocity of her lust for life.
But Sapphire was the one who saw everything, her mind as quick as a waterfall. She lounged on one of the couches arranged in a semi-circle around the fire-pit, holding up the crystal glass of red-blue liquid watching the flames dance within. Her lips were stained cobalt from the dark wine. "So tell us, mother. Tell us what to do. There's something badly wrong. I feel its icy breath on my skin. I smell the sulphurous mists of hell. I see hungry things dancing out of the crevices here. What task do you have for us? How can we help?"
Shadows danced on the walls.
Lydia stood up, feeling suddenly small under the high arched ceiling of the cave.
"I agree. Hard as it is to talk of magie-noir when we are so glad to be together, it must be done. As I said earlier, human beings can't stop playing with fire. Now they're in love with electricity. And magnetism. Which is a problem because the only thing which protects us from that which we know as the Ifreann, is the rotating magnetic field. It can be weakened by human blood spilled in rage."
There was a collective intake of breath. Lydia knew she had their proper attention now. Ifreann housed all the dark and churning things. It was the home of spirits who snarled and scratched, dark hunters desperate to ride over the hills and fields of the world once more. Only those who practised the dark craft of the magie-noir could set them free or hope to control them.
Blythe coughed. "Are you saying they've found a way to open the gates of hell - I mean the gates of Ifreann?"
Lydia shook her head sadly.
"I am. It doesn't matter what you call them, such opening should remain shut. One such gate has already opened in a far land and an enemy of life has come to Templesea to feed."
Chapter 2
Lydia told her daughters what she knew about the opening of the gateway to the dark things. "Men opened one on a battlefield in the Crimea. It was closed by a witch of fire. But not before something got out."
Constance grunted. "It only takes one of those creatures to cause havoc."
"Are you saying something escaped?" Sapphire said.
Lydia folded her hands in her lap. "It did. A creature known as Vedmak. He slid through to our realm before anyone could close the gate. The Rusalka river sisters from the east sent word to us immediately." The Rusalka river sisters were old spirits, guardians of the Eastern European inland waterways since the time before men.
"But how did the gate open?" Sapphire asked, her eyes wide. "The seals are so powerful. Only extreme pain, blood and death can shake their foundations."
Lydia nodded. "You're right. I fear perhaps you've all been too immersed in the light and love of this realm. But the weapons men use are getting more lethal. Their wars are becoming big enough to create storms on the oceans of the universe."
"The current conflict in Crimea is a particularly bloody affair," Constance said.
"Indeed. The river sisters say the gate opened during the Charge of the Light Brigade. So much emotion, so much fear and blood. The lock on the gate disintegrated. So now we are left with this - this unacceptable thing on our doorstep. Vedmak has come here, to this place. To torment us all. To take a sacrifice."
Her gaze darted about the cave. Just thinking of war made her heart agitated, and she was already light-headed from the wine. She put down her glass feeling the burden of darkness, of the demon Vedmak, as if she was crushed beneath him.
"But if the gate opened up in Crimea, how did Vedmak get to Templesea?" Blythe said.
Lydia put a hand to her chest in an attempt to stop her heart thudding with anger. It was bad enough having a demon in the town, let alone one that had the audacity to take up residence on the bluff overlooking the cove. Her cove. Right opposite her home in the cave. It really was a vexation.
She took a deep inhale, pausing to ensure all the girls were listening. "He attached himself to an Englishman. An officer by the name of Branwell Hughes."
Blythe"s head snapped up. "Branwell Hughes? The son of Horace Hughes of Raven"s Nest House."
Sapphire snorted. "Horace Hughes? Hah. That madman? He was the most incompetent mage-noir there ever was. If his son is anything like him, no wonder he"s attracted a dark spirit."
Lydia shook her head. "I don't know much about Branwell. He joined the cavalry at a young age, and hasn't lived in Templesea for over ten years. Now he"s back, but they say he"s crippled and withdrawn. None of the Moon Coven can ascertain whether his soul is as corrupted as his father"s was, or which side of the gates he leans towards."
"I heard he was born with a pure soul," Blythe said.
"Let us hope that is true," Lydia said. "But. As with so many battle-hardened men, he's probably torn between light and shade. His father's cruelty was common knowledge so we have to presume Branwell was brutalised as a child. This will make it harder to defeat the demon attached to him."
She paused for a moment to stare into the pot of stew. Then continued.
"There is talk that he has a heart so black with hatred for his dead father that nothing can save him. There's also a rumour that like his mother, he was born with the second sight. But he can't control it. I'm so angry he brought this trouble here. To my town."
Just the thought of it made Lydia grind her teeth.
She told her daughters everything else she knew about the demon attached to Branwell Hughes.
About how Vedmak could change into a horse, a moth or a wolf. He was a spirit first and foremost, moving like mist through walls. Until he was stronger, he would stay close to Captain Hughes. Yet he had made the occasional excursion outside the confines of Raven"s Nest House.
Lydia frowned. "The river sisters say Vedmak can charm any woman with one look of his smouldering eyes.
This is certainly true. In the last few days I've heard from the Moon Coven that he was seen at a remote farmhouse in Dorset. He appeared as a wolf with eyes like coals, then became a man, seduced a maiden, and left her for dead."
The fire crackled and burned low.
Lydia went on to explain that Vedmak was immune to the enchantments of elemental spirits - such as themselves. Water couldn't drown him. Fire would only make him stronger. The wind could never break him, and he knew the depths of the earth as only a creature who had been buried for thousands of years could.
And he craved human sacrifice.
"But what can we do if our powers are useless against him?" Constance said.
"He must be beheaded. We must persuade Captain Hughes to catch him when he takes a physical form, kill him, and bury him under rocks. That"s the only way to stop him," Lydia told them.
Sapphire put a finger on her chin. "When he takes a physical body he'll be ready to take a sacrifice."
"Exactly. It's dangerous to wait until that moment, but it's the only way. We can however, repulse him from this world if we attack when he appears as a man. Presently, he feeds on the nightmares of those around him. In the last few days he"s become aware of my presence. Some nights I dream of him, a great monster of a man. He wants to get rid of us, of all those who guard the gate," Lydia said.
