by Katie M John
“God, I hope she’s wearing gym knickers!” Swan said disapprovingly.
“I don’t think gym knickers would make a bit of difference to the thoughts running through their pervy little heads,” Fox grumped, nodding in the direction of the boys.
Fox looked at Thalia and felt bile rise up in her throat. How can she act so cool when…? Fox forced herself to look at her, searching for signs of guilt; looking for evidence of blood on her hands. She desperately wanted to tell Swan about what she had seen last night; about the Ravenheart sisters abducting Martha and torturing her, but…
“Hi, ladies,” Thalia said, smiling sweetly.
Fox felt Swan bristle beside her. After scanning the area, satisfied nobody could overhear, Swan leant in and whispered sharply, “Rumour has it, in certain circles, your blood has been out stealing eyes.”
Fox looked from Swan to Thalia with her mouth wide open. What the hell! How did Swan know…?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Thalia said defensively. Thalia was a practiced deceiver and she eyeballed Swan innocently.
“What…?” Fox began to stutter but was cut short by the nasty little battle of words.
“It’s all over the local paper!” Swan said.
Thalia coughed and cleared her throat. “What is exactly?”
Fox’s internal was going bonkers; it started shouting in the high-pitched voice of the hysteric. What the bloody hell is going on? What is up with Swan? Fox breathed deeply. It was as if the world had suddenly slid into slow motion. Whoa, she felt sick.
“The horse mutilations that have been taking place at the farms over in the Coppices,” Swan explained. “Apparently, they’ve found four animals with their eyes taken out and some crazy, Satanic stuff branded on their flesh. If it’s not you, then someone is jacking your style!”
Fox had no idea why her sister was baiting Thalia so hard. Fox could see Thalia internally combusting and was convinced that if they’d been somewhere more private, a full on fight would have broken out. Instead, Thalia stared hard at Swan as if she could will her dead (maybe she could). Her hand sat firmly on her hip and a cruel, twisted pout formed on her lips. Incredulously, Swan wasn’t done and Fox looked at her as if she’d been swapped by aliens.
“Oh, yes, it’s just your blood’s style.”
Fox cleared her throat with a nervous cough and grabbed her sister tightly by the arm. “Excuse me, do you mind if I have a word with you,” she said dragging her to the side of the court.
Thalia continued her dagger-stare and called out, “You bitch! I’ll see you later!”
“Yeah, whatever!” Swan called out over her shoulder.
“For the love of the Goddess, will you please just shut the freak up!” Fox muttered through clenched teeth. Swan was totally hyped. Fox had rarely, if ever, seen her so out of control. “Who are you? I mean you’re clearly not my sister, so what’s going on? Why are you spoiling for a fight with Thalia? Why are you talking about…” Fox glanced around to check they were not being overheard. “…Witch matters!”
“She started it!” Swan said, with uncharacteristic immaturity.
“How? How exactly has Thalia pissed you off so much that you break the secrecy oath?”
“Don’t be such a bloody hypocrite, you’re always telling people you’re a Witch!”
Fox let out a puff of air in an attempt to swallow her quickly rising anger. “Not for real! Nobody really believes that crap! They don’t think I fly about on a broomstick with a black hat, do they!”
Swan threw the ball hard to the ground with a thud. “Do you know what? I’ve had it. I’m going home!”
“You’re ditching?” Fox asked with surprise.
She stormed off in the direction of the changing room. “I’m phoning mum!” Fox called out lamely.
Swan didn’t reply but flicked the V sign. Fox couldn’t remember the last time she and Swan had fallen out. That was always saved for Bunny. Swan was the peace-keeper; the diplomat. Whatever Thalia had done, it had clearly cut her sister deep. Of all the times to fall out with her, it couldn’t have been worse. She had hoped to talk to her about the visions. Thalia had been watching the whole scene with interest and now Swan was gone, and she thought she was no longer in danger of being thumped, she slinked over to Fox.
“Whoa, wonder what got her so het up?” Thalia asked.
Fox couldn’t tear her eyes away from the glossy-lipped smile on Thalia’s face. Her head was hurting from being all knotted up; not just over the fight with her sister but with the images from her visions. It hasn’t happened yet! the internal said with conviction. Test the waters. Play it cool!
Fox cleared her throat and planted a smile on her face. “Hormones! She gets terrible PMT. You shouldn’t mind her.”
Thalia shrugged. “No offence taken. We …” she stopped her sentence and mentally readjusted it, “Our kind have got to stick together; especially if what Swan says about the Satanic rituals is true, then it won’t be long until the villagers are at our doors with their pitchforks.” Thalia laughed and it sounded as light and innocent as the sound of a bubbling cauldron.
The thought of being in league with the Ravenhearts didn’t appeal to Fox but she smiled sweetly and replied, “Of course.”
Fox started to put on her netball vest with the hope that the next topic of conversation would look as natural as any general chit-chat.
“Have you seen Martha Paisley in college today? Her mother came into Sara’s last night, she was distraught. Apparently, she hasn’t been seen since Sunday night.” Fox watched Thalia’s face for signs of discomfort, but all she saw was a look of concern and natural interest.
“No, she wasn’t in registration this morning.” Thalia dropped her head to the side and twirled her hair. “Do they think something has happened?”
“They don’t know. I think the police think her and Jack have done a bunk somewhere. They were hoping she’d rock up last night with a love-bite and her tail between her legs.”
“That’s not really Martha’s style is it? She’s so… virginal!”
Fox swallowed the gasp that was about to fly out of her throat. Hear that? the internal piped up, “Virginal.” Weird word choice don’t you think? Why… the internal was cut off by the sound of the gym whistle being blown and Miss Faulkner clapping her hands in order to herd the unruly gaggle of girls into two teams.
“I’m really sorry, Ms. Faulkner, I think I’m going to be…” Fox’s hand flew to her mouth and she started to run for the changing rooms, “sick!”
Once out of sight, she straightened up and slowed to a walking pace. She needed to change and get home. She needed to speak with Cousin Primrose about the visions. She needed to know if it was the past, present, or future. If it was the future that she was seeing, she had a chance of changing it. Destiny was bendable. It changed on the flap of a butterfly wing, or so she’d been led to believe. Primrose, or Prim, as her family called her, was also a Saw. Her visions had come in early -- she’d been an Oracle Child; and boy, were they creepy little critters, all glassy-eyed and spooky.
So bright spark, how exactly are you intending on getting to May Hill? the internal asked snarkily. Fox changed out of her gym kit and stuffed her things into her bag. “Will!” she muttered in answer. “He’ll drive me to May Hill.”
She hurried along the corridor, hoping the Geography class were at base rather than being out in the grounds doing their weirdo geography things, like tipexing woodlice or counting daisies. The row of windows looking out onto the corridor made it easy to get Will’s attention – as well as everybody else's, including Mr. Huntley’s. He wasn’t too happy that his fascinating discussion on glacial drifts was being interrupted by a clown at the window and he stomped to the door with a grumpy huff.
“Miss Meadowsweet, can we help you?”
Fox blushed and stammered. She was not used to getting herself into trouble. “S…sorry, Sir, I need to get an urgent message to Will.”
“No, Sir, I’m afraid not.” Fox glanced into the classroom to see fifteen pairs of curious eyes all looking in her direction. Will was blushing coyly. This certainly was not one of Fox’s better ideas. What are you thinking!
Huntley sighed heavily. “Okay, as it’s obviously so urgent.” He leaned through the door and called out for ‘William’, who made the walk of shame to the soundtrack of his classmates’ whispers and giggles.
Huntley stepped back to let Will pass but was showing no intention of returning to class without knowing what life-threatening missive was being imparted. Fox waited for him to leave, making it clear she wasn’t going to say anything in front of him. Eventually, he was forced to return to class, grumbling, “William, two minutes and I want you back in class, please.”
“Foxy, what’s going on?” Will asked.
“I know this is all a little bit crazy but I really need your help.”
He stepped forward, running his hand through his hair in a sign of awkwardness. He glanced into the classroom to see that they were still being watched. He took her by the arm and steered her so they were out of view.
Well that’s going to look even more suspicious!
“What’s so urgent?” he asked.
“I need you to drive me to May Hill?”
He sighed and looked visibly relieved. “Is that all? Jeez, of course I can give you a lift back.”
He thinks you mean at the end of the day, the internal added helpfully. “Not after college - now?” she asked.
“What do you mean, now?” His confusion returned.
“I mean – I need to go to May Hill right now. Can you take me?”
He looked back in the direction of class and shuffled. “I don’t know. I don’t think I can just walk out of Huntley’s class. He’s not really that cool with stuff like that!”
Fox’s heartbeat started to rise in the first flutters of panic. She knew she had to get to Primrose. She had to know whether there was still a chance to save Martha – time was running out. You might already be too late! the internal said, bleakly.
“Please, I wouldn’t ask unless it was…”
Fox felt the warmth of Will’s hand on her arm. “Okay, on one condition: on the way, you tell me what is going.”
Fox nodded. She wasn’t sure exactly what tale she would spin. You could tell him the truth!
“Just give me a minute to go grab my stuff,” he said, leaving her standing nervously.
“What will you tell Huntley?”
“I’ll think of something.”
A minute or two later, Will returned looking stressed. Huntley had obviously given him a hard time.
“Are you in trouble?” she asked.
“Nothing I can’t handle.” He slung his satchel over his shoulder and dug into his pocket for his car keys.
“Sorry!” Fox whispered.
“I just hope it’s for a good reason.”
“It is, I promise.”
Will was not very happy about the situation and Fox was surprised to find him so sour. She’d never seen him anything but sweet and smiley. Maybe you misjudged him. Fox looked at him. His jaw line was hard and there was a heavy silence that was very uncomfortable. It wasn’t until they had left Fallford and were on the long road to May Hill, that he finally broke the quiet.
“So what’s so urgent you have to pull me out of class?”
Fox had had time to think over what she would say but she hadn’t come to any solid decisions – now she’d have to wing it.
“I need to go and see my cousin.”
“Is she ill?”
“No, but I think maybe… maybe I am.”
Will shot her a look full of concern. The weight of it knocked her sideways. He likes you! the internal observed. More than likes you.
“Is it the fits you are having? Do you think it’s something serious?”
Fox nodded. “Yes, but not in the way you think it is. It’s not a brain tumour or anything.”
“Oh.”
“You must know what they say about me and my sisters?”
Will shook his head and looked blank, forcing Fox to continue a conversation she really wished she hadn’t started. “…That we’re different. A bit weird.”
A spontaneous smile teased his lips and he turned with a twinkle in his eye, “That’s exactly what I like about you, Foxy!”
See, I told you so. Fox shook the internal away. She could really do with a clear head for this moment and the internal was an increasingly annoying distraction. She knew she was blushing and she wished she weren’t. She liked Will a lot but she really didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. There was no hope of anything more than friendship between them.
“You know they say we are Witches.”
Will burst into laughter. “And what? They’re right? You do know I was only yanking your chain the other night? I don’t really think you’re a witch or anything.”
This really wasn’t going the way she had hoped. She certainly hadn’t expected him to burst into giggles on her as she revealed her big secret.
“My sisters and I have certain talents; gifts, if you like.”
Will stopped laughing and turned to glance at her longer than was safe when driving on a winding country lane. “Talents? Gifts? What like?” he asked cautiously.
“These fits I’ve been having, they’re not medical, they’re… they’re visions.”
Fox saw how Will tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He was uncomfortable with the subject matter.
“Visions?”
Fox sighed. “Are you just going to keep repeating me?”
“Well I’m not quite sure what else you’d like me to say,” he said tersely.
“I know it sounds weird. It’s weird for me, too, and I assure you, of all the talents our kind are given, having visions is not the one I wanted.”
“Your kind? What exactly do you mean? Bloody hell, Foxy! Do you really expect me to believe all that bleedin’ hocus-pocus crap? If I believed in any of that shit I’d heard about you in the village, I wouldn’t have teased you so much about it all, would I?”
Fox was startled by his ferocity. She’d expected mocking and a bit of ridicule but not this hostility. She’d been wrong to think he could help her; foolish to think he would ride in on his white horse and be her knight in shining armor.
“Forget it,” she snapped. “I just thought you might be able to help me. Clearly, I was wrong. Just drop me off at May Hill and I’ll go on from there – alone.”
A heavy silence fell between them. Fox could see Will was angry, but she didn’t really understand why – well, aside from the usual prejudices, but she thought Will might have been different. She’d hoped he would be a friend, and she had a feeling she was going to need one of those in the coming days; a terrible sense of dread followed her like a black dog. After several minutes, which felt like hours, Will shuffled in his seat and asked,
“Are the visions anything to do with Martha?”
Fox was surprised by his intuition. Given his earlier responses, she wasn’t that keen on telling him more but it seemed he’d had time to think things over a bit and become a little more receptive.
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
There was a natural pause in his response as he stopped at road junction and focused. Fox was in no rush to dive in with details and hoped that might be enough information for him. When they’d safely crossed, he was still silent and she thought she had got away with it until he asked,
“Have you seen what’s happened to her?”
Fox looked out of the window. She shrugged and threw him a glance.
“Is it… is it bad?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Well what have you seen? What did your…” he cleared his throat as if embarrassed, “…your visions look like.”
“It’s not really easy to explain, Will. They’re a mixture of sound and light
and feelings. They don’t really make sense, and I don’t know if they tell me what has happened or what’s going to happen. That’s why I need to see Prim.”
“Will she have the answer?”
“I hope so.”
“Is she a W… I mean is she gifted, too?”
Fox nodded. They were nearly at May Hill. She still wasn’t sure how much of a friend Will was going to be.
“Turn left. It’s at the bottom of the track.”
Prim lived with her two sisters, Violet and Rose. The cottage was off the road and up into the fringes of the forest. Fox allowed herself a wry smile at the impression it would give Will. If ever there was your archetypal fairytale Witches’ cottage then it was Bramble Cottage. With three smoking crooked chimneys, a herb garden, and its original Tudor lattice windows, it could easily have been a prop in Disneyland.
Will smirked and his shoulders dropped. It seemed the humour of the setting had not been lost on him.
“Nice place. Very…” He laughed and Fox felt a momentary hope that everything might work out okay between them after all.
He pulled the car up behind the sisters’ beaten up Land Rover and cut the engine. Fox gathered her bags and started to get out with the intention of offering her thanks and letting him off the hook, but before she got a chance, he picked up his magazine from the side pocket and said, “Take as long as you need. I’ll give you a lift back when you’re done.”
She was about to protest when he flashed her a smile that would have been stupid to refuse.
“Thank you.”
Prim was in. She was almost always in due to her agoraphobia. It wasn’t bad enough for her never to go out, but she only went when she needed to. Violet and Rose were both at work in Lancaster. Violet worked as a librarian and Rose was a college tutor. Prim spent her days growing most of the supplies for ‘Auntie Wren’s’ beauty products. They were not wealthy but they were comfortable. The cottage had been their mother’s and hers before that until the day it had been built in 1530. They shared the same name of Meadowsweet and although slightly older than Fox and her sisters, they had always been a close sisterhood. They got together on the full moon for what their mother called ‘worship’, but which was more like a family dinner – as the family had always done, and in the week, either Rose or Violet would often call in on their way home from Lancaster and have supper with them. Of all the Meadowsweets, Prim was the one that Fox knew least.
