The Seer's Stone

by Frances Mary Hendry

  With a huge effort, she surged upwards, screaming.

  The yellow curtains glowed soft gold in the first dawn light. Beth was snoring slightly in the next bed. Nothing else was in the room. She must have screamed in silence.

  A nightmare.

  Three o’clock. Four hours until she had to get up, and she felt dreadful. Exhausted and cold. Her duvet was mostly on the floor, and the rest tangled tightly round her legs, sticky and unpleasant. She tugged it into place and lay down again, rubbing at goosebumps on her thin arms. Put on the fan heater? No, the noise might wake Beth. She shivered resentfully for nearly an hour before she fell asleep again.

  Beth became slowly aware of... ohh... cold... Dozily she rolled over and looked round. There was a mist rolling under the door, glowing eerie greenish-white. Like dry-ice mist in a pantomime, with Mr Mandrake as the Demon King, she thought, smiling. But... this was summer. Panto’s were at Christmas...

  Something wrong...

  She sat up. Tanya was sleeping quietly. The mist had covered the floor, and was swirling softly round the beds. It was unnatural. She reached down to touch it. Her hand was shocked with a terrible chill, a strike of cold so icy that a pain shot up to her heart. She called out to wake Tanya, but no sound came out. She shouted, screamed, but in helpless silence. Her cousin didn’t move. She couldn’t get off the bed to go and shake Tanya; she didn’t dare put a foot into this freezing mist. But it was rising all the time, lapping like a rising tide at the edge of the bed. It would spill over, freeze Tanya soon; she had to wake her, get her out of here! She forced herself up to kneel on the bed, grab her pillow to toss it over...

  How could she kneel on her bed? It was right under the low slope of the ceiling. She even had to be careful how she sat up, never mind kneeling. This wasn’t right...

  She looked more closely, rubbing her eyes.

  She was sitting up, not kneeling. No mist round the beds, only shadow, from the morning light. Just a bad dream. She rolled back onto the pillow, sighing in relief.

  What time was it? Five o’clock, nearly. Wearily she got up and looked out; it was light already, but grey, with a steady drizzle. Shivering, she wondered about putting on the heater, but the noise of the fan would wake Tanya. She huddled down into her bed, wishing she had an electric blanket. It was nearly six before she fell asleep.

  When the alarm clock finally sounded at six-thirty they were both heavy-eyed and still tired. Tanya switched the fan heater to its highest setting before even turning off the buzz. “By ’eck, I’m frazzled! Never felt as bad! Nightmares all night! An’ colder than the Arctic!” She shuddered as she rotated in front of the warm blast.

  Still half-asleep, Beth nodded, struggling with her hair. “Me, too. It was like - like being in a deepfreeze. Horrible. I’d’ve got up and put on the heater, but I didn’t want to risk waking you.” She sounded peeved.

  “Me too.” Tanya protested defensively. “Thought o’ getting meself a cuppa, but I didn’t want to - well, to go down the stairs. Not wi’ him down there.”

  “Who? Oh, Mr Mandrake? Don’t start that again!” But Beth grimaced. “You know, in my dream, I thought it was him who made me so cold.”

  “Me an’ all.” Tanya agreed glumly.

  “Funny we felt the same. Guilty consciences!” Beth tried to cheer up. “Maybe it’s just the weather. It was raining earlier.” She rose to peer out of the window and made a face. “Still is. Ouch! I can’t get the tangles out of my hair this morning. I must’ve been tossing about - I don’t usually have this trouble. Ow! Would you look at that, my comb’s snapped! Oh, come on, let’s have a quick shower to wake up.”

  “An’ warm up! Still perishing.”

  Beth groaned. “I can feel it. This is going to be one of those days.”

  While they finished laying the tables, Tanya told Beth her suspicions about Mary’s fall, and was annoyed when Beth laughed disbelievingly. “What an imagination!” she jeered. “Mum said she was halfway down the stairs before she started to fall. He couldn’t have pushed her. And all that carry-on last night - well!” She pushed a strand of hair back and grinned nastily. “What did he do? Ask you to let him see the stone. Big deal! Why not let him, eh? All this about his hands freezing you - horror, horror! Return of the Son of Frankenstein! When I think how cold I was last night, in my bed, I’m not surprised his hands were chilly! Hitting him with a pan, for heaven’s sake! We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t charge you with assault!”

  Tanya couldn’t express the menace, the power, the commanding chill that had held her captive. Beth just laughed. “Honest, just because the man’s got a whatsisname, a pendulum for dowsing, you’re hooked on this witchcraft idea. You’ll be saying next that he put a curse on us both to give us those nightmares!”

  “Wouldn’t put it past him,” Tanya muttered.

  “Oh, give over. Sorry I mentioned it. Have you put the butters out? Oh, well done!”

  Tanya’s face darkened at Beth’s patron­ising tone.

  Beth bit her lip. “Sorry, Tanya. I’m just bad-tempered this morning.”

  “Me an’ all! Right narky the pair o’ us.” Tanya looked thoughtful. “Him again?”

  “Oh, give it a rest!” Beth snapped. But when she thought about it, she wasn’t usually this uptight... It was just worry, with mum being away. “Get out the eggs, will you? There’s the urn boiling, and the pan for the eggs, and it’s still ten to. At least we’re in good time!”

  The guests weren’t. They straggled down late, at intervals, yawning and irritable, only speaking to complain that the dining room was cold. The big heater blasting away in the corner made no difference to the chill. Nothing pleased them. The cornflakes were soft, the toast was too light or too dark, the eggs were runny or stone-hard, the butter wouldn’t spread, the milk was off, the jam was too thick, was there no apple juice...

  They ate in a solid gloom, grumbling unhappily within their family groups, without the usual cheery breakfast chatter between the tables, until someone mentioned she’d had a nightmare. Then they all joined in; bad dreams, suffocation, headaches, a cold and clammy feeling. One man had switched his electric blanket on and fallen asleep, to wake again soaked in sweat. “Lucky I didn’t electrocute myself!” Even Mr Craig wasn’t his normal chirpy self.

  When Beth asked as usual who would be in for dinner, there was a general depressed fidgeting. “I don’t think we’ll stay, dear,” one lady said. Everybody nodded. “Not when your mother’s ill. You’ll be wanting to go visiting, won’t you? We think we’ll just be on our way.” In the end, as if they were glad to escape, everyone except the Craigs was leaving, even the ones who had been booked in until the weekend.

  Tanya glowered. This sympathy for Beth and her mum was just an excuse.

  Beth frowned her to silence, smiled and nodded. “I’ll get your bills ready, then.”

  Tanya sniffed as she stacked dirty dishes. “Just exactly why’s everybody off, eh?”

  “Well, it happens.” Working out bills, Beth was glum. “But we’ve got a lot to do now. All those beds to change. Oh, well, I suppose we’ll cope. He’ll be down in a minute. You clear the rest of the tables, will you, while I get these done. Didn’t the Sinclairs have packed lunches yesterday?”

  When Mr Mandrake appeared he smiled charmingly. “Well, Tanya! Did you sleep well? And the rest of the guests?” There was an odd significance in his tone.

  She regarded him accusingly. “Knew it! I knew it!”

  “You knew what, my dear?”

  “It were you! You made us have them dreams!” Her voice rose.

  In the kitchen, Beth was putting Mr Mandrake’s coffee into his coffeepot. What was Tanya up to now? Angrily, she started to go through to the dining room, but Mandrake’s next words stopped her.

  “You shouldn’t have crossed me, my dear.” He smiled at Tanya. “You should have taken your chance when it was offered. Such a pity. You have enormous potential. So has your cousin. But now it’ll all go to waste.” />
  He sighed in angry resignation. “You see, I happen to be one of the chief wizards of Britain. An Ipsissimus, if you know what that means? The father of all magic. So when I felt drawn to this area, to this particular house, I knew there must be something special here. And there was.

  You, my dear, and Beth, and this stone of yours. You are practically ringing with power, like a burglar alarm, to those who can hear.”

  Tanya stopped herself glancing round at the kitchen door. She hoped that this ‘ringing’ she was apparently doing would blank out any sense of the stone’s nearness.

  “With you two and the stone under my control, I’d have had more power than you can dream of. But you have thwarted me. It might have been intriguing to force you, compel you to serve me. I could do it, but - no. You have just too much potential to be trained safely. Especially working with your cousin. And Beth wouldn’t come to me without you. And now the stone has gone, too. Your stupid, childish obstinacy has damaged my plans, my dear. And you dared to attack me personally. I have taken the liberty of retaliating. I’ve made a tiny change in the house.”

  His smile spread viciously. “Cold, isn’t it? Depressing. Bad-tempered. And it’ll stay that way. You’ll never again heat it up, make it the nice, warm, happy house it was.” He beamed at her, smug and satisfied. “And without the skills I could have given you, you’ll not be able to remove the spell. Nobody will ever be happy here again!”

  Tanya stood and stared at him. “Yer mean - you’ve done something to the house, to ruin Beth an’ Aunt Mary, put a curse on it, just because we wouldn’t give yer the scrying stone?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Yer an evil snake!”

  He snorted in amused annoyance. “What a charming image! A snake, yes, but -”

  “No.” She gazed at him in disgust, her lip curling. “Snakes is natural. You’re just big­headed an’ greedy an’ arrogant an’ - an’ slimy, clear through. An’ yer made yerself that way. Nobody else to blame.”

  “And I thought you were nice.” Beth stepped through the doorway from the pas­sage. “But you’re not. You’re -” She paused, trying to think of exactly what she meant. She felt - hurt. Upset. Disappointed. In him, and herself for believing in him - and in her liking for him, that had turned sour. She was normally polite, but suddenly her temper swelled.

  “Crazy,” Tanya suggested.

  Beth shook her head. “No. Not crazy.”

  Mr Mandrake’s smile was wary. “Thank you, my dear.”

  “All smiley and smarmy on top, but a spoiled bully underneath.”

  “Smarmy? Spoiled bully?” Mandrake’s voice was high and incredulous.

  “Spoiled rotten.” Tanya watched him in some satisfaction.

  “How dare you!” He seemed to swell in his anger.

  Beth tried not to show how cold and frightened she suddenly felt. She understood now what Tanya had been trying to tell her.

  Tanya tensed. “I’ll yell!” she warned him. “Folks’ll hear me!”

  As if to prove her words, a lady came in from the front hall, rummaging in her shoulder bag. “Ah, Beth, can we pay you now?” She looked from the girls to Mr Mandrake, sensed trouble, and started to back out, bumping into her husband who was entering behind her. “Er - sorry...”

  “No, no. Come right in, please, Mrs Harris,” Beth urged her. Their rescuers hovered uncertainly. Keep it looking normal... “Tanya, will you see to Mr Mandrake’s breakfast?”

  “What? Me? Oh. Yeah. Yeah, right.” Finally getting the message from Beth’s eyebrows, Tanya agreed amiably, but with a malicious gleam in her eye. “Right, then. How many eggs, Mr Mandrake? An’ how d’yer want ’em? Soft or hard? Coffee, isn’t it?” And whatever he asked for, he’d get the opposite. Burnt toast, tea...

  Maybe he read her mind. “Nothing, thank you. I’m leaving right away.”

  Beth almost gasped with relief. “I’ll get your bill ready, too, then.”

  “What?” His jaw dropped, as if he wasn’t used to being asked to pay for anything. “Hmph! Very well. I’m sure you’ll need the money. Soon, my dear, if not immediately.”

  Beth firmed her chin. How dare he! “If you’ll excuse me, then, I’ll see to Mr and Mrs Harris first.” She made herself smile, and turned towards the couple who were leaving.

  Mr Mandrake smiled too. “Do attend to business, my dear. While you still have it! Don’t forget to deduct the money I lent you last night!” He stalked out.

  Mr Harris stared after him. “Jeez! What a - a -”

  “Yeah.” Tanya forced herself to shrug. “Get all sorts.”

  The phone rang in the hall. “I’ll get it.” Tanya turned away, while Beth wrote out the receipt, smiled, hoped Mr and Mrs Harris enjoyed the rest of their holiday -

  “Beth.” Tanya was holding out the telephone. “Hospital. About yer mam.”

  “What is it? Excuse me, please.” The Harrises stood eavesdropping. “This is Beth Mackenzie. What’s happened?” Her voice shot up. “But she was all right last night! She was speaking to me... But... Yes. Yes, I’ll come right away.” She stared at Tanya as if she was half stunned. “It’s mum. She’s worse. She’s gone into a coma. Something about concussion, possible brain damage. They want me to go in straight away.”

  Chapter 7

  “I’ll call yer a taxi.” Tanya took the telephone out of Beth’s slack hand, looked for the number on the list above the phone, and dialled.

  The Harrises left, full of sympathy, eager to spread the news. Beth stood unable to think, helplessly unsure as to what to do for the best. “But I can’t go! Who’ll look after the house?”

  “Oh never mind the house. Yer mam’s more important. She needs yer, so go!” Tanya urged. “I’ll see to things here.” She turned to the phone. “Hello? Can we have a taxi, urgent, at Firthview Guesthouse? What? Half an hour? But it’s an emer­gency!” She put down the phone, shrugging apologetically “That’s the best they can do, they say. Ey here’s somebody else wanting to pay. You sort ’em out, an’ do the rest o’ the bills while I get yer coat.”

  By the coat rack in the back hall, Tanya suddenly stopped dead. She knew something that might help... No. It wasn’t possible.

  Mr and Mrs Craig came down the stairs. “What’s wrong, Tanya? You’re white as a sheet, dear! What’s happened?”

  “Beth’s mam’s had a relapse, an’ the hospital wants her in, pronto. An’ the taxi can’t come for half an hour.”

  They were both upset by the news. “Oh, dear! I’d take her,” Mr Craig fussed, “but our car’s in the garage, I had a little bump the day we arrived. Such a pity! Oh, dear!”

  “It’s okay,” she reassured him. “She’ll get there quick enough. Like to go meself, but,” she shrugged, “somebody’s got to mind the place.”

  “Oh, yes, of course. Never mind, I’m sure it’ll be -”

  “Harold!” Mrs Craig’s voice, that Tanya had only heard once or twice before, agreeing mildly with her husband, was suddenly brisk and businesslike. “Your insurance covers you for driving any car, doesn’t it? Take Mary’s car. Then they can go, right away. I know taxis, if they say half an hour they mean at least three quarters. You’d be there long before then.” Tanya opened her mouth to protest. “Don’t worry, dear, I’ll see to everything. I’ll tell you a secret, my dear - I don’t really like holidays, having nothing to do. And my daughter does bed and breakfast, so I know the routine. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

  “Oh, what a good idea, Babs! Come along, then, Tanya. Now, what will we need? Coats, and the car keys, well, you’ll get them, of course, and -”

  “Harold! Hurry!”

  “Yes, dear! Just going!”

  Mr Craig wasn’t used to a big car. “It’s not the same as mine, dears,” he smiled after a particularly solid slam on the brakes stopped the big estate just millimetres short of a lorry. “It’ll take me a little time to get used to it.”

  “No sweat, Mr Craig!” Beth smiled automatically Tanya opened her eyes to glance at he
r cousin, and swallowed with difficulty. “Speak for yerself!” she muttered.

  In shock, Beth was talking absently. “It’s very heavy on the wheel, mum said - says. I wouldn’t know, I’ve only driven a tractor.”

  Tanya leaned forwards over the back of the seat. “You’ve driven a tractor? Honest?”

  “Oh, yes. Just driving round the fields, not out on the road.” Beth shrugged, quite matter-of-fact. “On a farm you learn all sorts of things. I can mend a puncture, and use a shotgun, and gut and skin a rabbit.”

  Tanya made a face. “Yegh! Don’t fancy that, killing a rabbit!” But she was fascinated. This was a side of prissy, gentle, polite Beth that she’d never imagined.

  “I shot a roe deer once.”

  “Yer never!”

  “Somebody had to.” Beth pursed her lips against the disapproval radiating from Tanya and Mr Craig. “They were raiding the peas, and dad borrowed a pal’s rifle and took me out.”

  “Just for a few peas?” Tanya demanded. “Deer’s smashing. Cried me eyes out when Bambi’s mam got shot.”

  “Bambi?” Beth snorted. “Cutesy Hollywood rubbish! Smashing’s about right. They were wrecking our fields, hundreds of pounds of damage. And farmers can’t insure against deer. I killed a buck with one shot. Roast venison’s delicious.”

  “How could yer? Never took you for cruel!”

  “No.” Beth shook her head, glad of the distraction. “You mustn’t kill for fun, or for show, just for food or self-protection, dad always said. Causing any pain you don’t absolutely have to, that’s what’s cruelty.” Like Mr Mandrake.

  Tanya shrugged. “Still don’t think it’s right, killing.”

  “D’you think sausages grow on trees? Everything dies sometime. Plants, animals, people. Even vegetarians kill things. It’s been proved scientifically, plants can feel and remember and so on. So which is worse, killing one deer or a field full of potatoes?”