by Tim O'Rourke
My first thought was that someone had discovered that Annabel’s grave had been disturbed. Morten had found me lurking around in the graveyard, after all. Had he noticed that the grave had been disturbed and put two and two together? Was that why a meeting for the villagers had been called at the church?
“Why do you look so worried?” Rush asked, glancing sideways at me as we passed the old schoolhouse.
“I’m just worried about meeting the villagers – all at once,” I said.
“What have you got to be worried about?” Rush said, clearing the edge of the park and finding the path that wound its way toward the church.
“I went to see Annabel’s father,” I said. “I wanted to explain about what happened that day – the day she died. But he was really unfriendly – pretty much shut the door in my face. I know the other villagers feel the same way about me as he does. They all blame me for what happened.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Rush tried to reassure me. “You’re going to be amongst friends.”
“Friends?” I frowned back at him.
“Well, I’m your friend, aren’t I? Then there’s Rea and Calix,” he said as the wind whooped about the treetops.
Was Calix a true friend? I couldn’t help but wonder to myself. He was so fickle. Sometimes it seemed like he did want to help. He had brought me food, filled the stove so that I could cook food, and heat the water in the cottage. He had gone some way to teach me how to shoot. But then there were other times when he acted like an obnoxious jerk who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. And I couldn’t help but remember how only yesterday he had let his hands wander as he’d tried to teach me to shoot the gun in the red-brick house on the other side of the hill. With his arms about me, our faces had been within kissing distance of each other. But I couldn’t deny that if I hadn’t pulled away at the very last minute and fled, I might have become a willing participant and would’ve let Calix kiss me.
Wanting to rid my mind of any thoughts of Calix and what might or might not have happened between us, I peered around the hood of my sweater at Rush and said, “So what is this meeting all about?” Now that I had shaken off thoughts of Calix, I grew fearful again that the villagers knew that Annabel’s grave had been disturbed.
Walking briskly in the direction of the church, hands thrust into his coat pockets, Rush didn’t look at me, but said, “After I left you yesterday evening, Rea, Calix, and me went back up into the woods at the edge of the graveyard – to where Annabel had been killed. We had gone to keep watch.”
“What for?” I asked him.
“For whatever it was that killed Annabel,” Rush said.
But is Annabel really dead? I wanted to blurt out, but I didn’t.
“We hadn’t been in the woods very long when we sensed something,” Rush continued. “Whatever killed Annabel had come back. We shot at it. But it moved fast – like lightning…”
“So that was gunfire, I heard,” I said, unable to take back the words now that they were out.
Rush glanced at me, his brow a series of deep furrows. “You were in the graveyard last night?”
Knowing that I had been caught by Morten and therefore was little point in lying about it, I nodded my head. “Yes.”
“What were you doing in the graveyard?” Rush asked, his eyes watching me.
“Just after you left last night, I heard the sound of banging,” I started to explain. “I then realised it was the door to the schoolhouse that was opening and closing in the wind. I feared that perhaps one of the children had returned to the school and as it was late and there was a storm approaching I went to investigate.”
“And what did you find?” Rush asked, his eyes not leaving me.
“The school door was open, but there was no child – not that I could see,” I said.
“So why didn’t you head home?” Rush said, delving deeper into my story.
“Because I thought I heard the sound of gunfire,” I told him. “And I was right, wasn’t I?”
“But I didn’t see you up in the woods,” he said, that frown still lining his brow.
“I only got as far as the graveyard before I bumped into Morten,” I explained. “He told me it was dangerous to be out and to go home. So I took his advice and headed back to the cottage.”
We stopped at the gate that led into the graveyard. Rush continued to look at me. Without saying anything more, he pushed the gate open. I followed him along the path toward the church. As we went, I couldn’t help but glance from the corner of my eye in the direction of Annabel’s grave. There had been so much rain the previous night that surely it would be impossible for anyone to tell that I had dug up the grave. The posy of Wolf Bane was still lying on top of the mound of clotted earth. The blue flowers appeared to have died again. I looked down at my hand to discover that the cut I made had now vanished.
With some trepidation, I followed Rush into the church. Rush had tried to ease my concerns that the villagers of Shade disliked me, but I couldn’t prevent my stomach knotting up as I saw all of them gathered inside. They sat in the pews that lined the church. Flames flickered in every corner, casting light against the stained glass windows and reflecting off the ancient walls. The smell of burning wax was overpowering. There was an unoccupied pew at the back of the church. As Rush made his way up the aisle to the front, I sat at the back, trying to make myself as small as possible, hoping that I might go unnoticed by the rest of the villagers. But no sooner had I taken my seat, all of them turned in their seats to look back at me.
Chapter Six
The temptation to lower my head, to withdraw back inside my hoodie was all consuming, but I fought it. Rush was right. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I wasn’t to blame for Annabel’s death. It wasn’t me who had buried a dead wolf in her grave. It had been them. They were to blame for that. I had nothing to be ashamed of. They all did. So instead of cowering away, I matched their stares. I looked defiantly at each and every one of them. I refused to be intimidated by a group of people that could bury a dead wolf in a child’s grave. And where was Annabel’s body if she were really dead and not buried in the grave? Where was her identical twin, Clarabel? As the villagers began to break my stare and face front again, I scanned the church for any sign of Clarabel. From the back of the church I could see the mop of red hair that cascaded down Suzanne’s back. And as I looked at her, I couldn’t help but wonder if she had confessed to her parents that it was because of her striking Annabel that day, that Annabel had fled the school? I doubted it very much. I looked away and could see the other children I had met at the schoolhouse. But I couldn’t see any sign of Clarabel. Her father was present. He sat toward the front of the church wearing his butcher’s apron that was splashed red down the front with dried blood.
As I continued to scan the church and the villagers who were mostly dressed in black, I set upon a pair of eyes that were staring at me. It was Calix. He was at the front of the church, facing the villagers. He sat on Rea’s right-hand side and Rush now sat in a chair to her left. I broke Calix’s stare. It was so intense that it made me feel uncomfortable. There was an empty chair next to where Rush sat. It was like someone was late or had failed to turn up. Augustus Morten, perhaps? No, he was standing to one side, leant against the far wall as if propping it up. My eyes met his pale stare. He smiled and tipped his bowler hat at me. I smiled weakly back at him, then quickly looked away.
Although the church was hushed in a deathly silence, I couldn’t help but feel a certain charge of nervousness – anxiousness – permeating the atmosphere. Before it had grown to fever pitch, Rea slid back her chair and stood up. She faced the villagers gathered before her. She looked even more beautiful in the candlelight that flickered from every corner of the church. Her long black hair sat curled about her shoulders, full lips blood red and skin as pale as alabaster. Rea’s eyes blazed bright blue as she addressed the packed church.
“I fear the wall that has kept us safe for so long has be
en breached.”
No sooner had the words escaped her lips an uneasy murmur spread amongst the villagers. They glanced along the pews at each other, and one or two glanced back at me. I stared them down yet again and eventually they faced front once more. Once the villagers had settled, Rea started to talk again.
“Annabel was not killed by a wolf like we at first thought,” Rea said.
“What killed the child then?” someone in the crowd spoke out.
Were they expecting me to step forward at this point and confess? I sat on my hands.
“I don’t want to speculate at this point in time,” Rea said.
“Why not?” a woman who was near to the front asked. She wore a black bonnet on her head which was tied beneath her chin with lengths of black lace.
“For fear of causing panic in the village,” Rea said, her long coat open at the front, revealing the guns that were strapped to each of her thighs. “I just want to assure you that we have everything under control.”
“Who’s we?” a man with a glistening bald head asked.
Rea looked at him, then at the rest of the wide-eyed faces staring back at her. “Myself, Rush, Calix, and Mila…”
“But she was partly to blame for my daughter’s death,” the butcher shouted out. Again, several of the villagers turned to face me. It was becoming harder and harder for me to stare back at them.
“Mila Watson is not to blame for Annabel’s death,” Rea spoke up, her voice almost booming in the hollow confines of the church. “I’ve had enough of such talk already. Whatever has breached the wall is to blame for Annabel’s death.” Then eyeing the crowd with her piercing blue eyes, she added, “Do I make myself clear?”
Those that had turned to gawp at me with their accusing stares swivelled in their seats and faced front. A hushed silence fell over the villagers.
“But the girl doesn’t know how to fire a gun,” someone suddenly spoke up. I couldn’t see who had shouted out.
Calix sprung to his feet. “I am teaching her to shoot,” he said.
Was he defending me – coming to my rescue? Had Rush been right all along and Calix really was a friend? The atmosphere was so hostile toward me that I knew I needed as many friends as I could muster – even if one of them could be an arrogant jerk most of the time.
“She should never have been put in charge of the children,” a middle-aged woman shouted. She held the boy called Jonathan to her chest. “The girl is nothing like Julia… she is a stranger. How do we know that we can trust her?”
“I trust her,” Rush said, springing to his feet.
I felt suddenly overwhelmed by Rea’s, Calix’s, and Rush’s defence of me. I hadn’t been expecting it. What had I been expecting – that they would let the villagers lynch me? I felt the sudden sting of tears at each corner of my eyes. I screwed them shut. And in the darkness of my mind’s eye, I saw myself tied to a giant wooden stake with seething flames lapping at my feet. I wanted to cry out, but my throat was full of burning hot smoke. I wanted to ask the villagers why…
“It’s only been since the girl’s arrival in Shade that the wall has been breached,” I heard another of the villagers shout out. “A child lays dead in the graveyard.”
I snapped open my eyes. That feeling of rage that I’d felt the night before as the werewolf had sauntered away from me was back. It was charging through my veins – racing toward each of my fingertips. I screwed my hands into fists. They throbbed like I held a heart in each of them. I wanted to stand up and scream at the villagers. I wanted to tell them I knew that Annabel wasn’t buried in the graveyard. I wanted to tell them I knew it was a dead wolf that had been buried in her place. I was sick of being judged for something I hadn’t done. That sense of rage spiralled through me, my flesh suddenly feeling seething hot. My hands felt as if they were going to explode like bombs – as if they were charged with electricity.
“She can’t be trusted…” someone shouted.
And in that moment the rage I felt inside became unbearable and I threw open my fists in a desperate attempt to release it and set it free. In the very same moment every single one of the burning candles in the church were suddenly snuffed out. It was like each of them had been caught in a sudden gust of wind. Several of the villagers cried out as the church was thrown into utter darkness.
The door to the church was thrown open. Late afternoon light spilled into the church, illuminating the pale and terrified faces of the villagers gathered inside.
“Who blew out all the lights?” I heard someone say.
All of us glanced back toward the now open doorway and in the direction of the voice. A man stood in the entrance to the church. I recognised him at once. He was the man in the old photograph that had fallen from between the pages of Julia Miller’s diary.
Chapter Seven
I watched the stranger stride past me and down the centre aisle of the church. As he went, Morten was quick to relight the candles that had so unexpectedly been snuffed out. He minced about in the shadows that lined the church walls as he hurried between the candleholders with a flickering flame. The man who had so suddenly appeared and who I recognised from the picture hidden between the pages of Julia’s diary was at least six-foot-five in height. He was broad shouldered and was dressed in the same fashion as Rea, Rush, and Calix. The man was about forty years old. He walked with an air of unquestionable authority – like a leader. Was he the true leader of Shade and not Rea as I had at first thought? I couldn’t help but notice the looks of reverence on the faces of those gathered in the church. And I couldn’t help but see how Rea looked at the man, too. Her eyes never left him as he marched down the centre of the church toward her. Rea’s eyes had grown wide and bright. Not with fear or trepidation – but lust. It was clear to see. She had it bad for whoever this man was. He stood beside Rea, close to where Rush and Calix stood at the head of the church. The man looked at Rush and Calix, and both gave a brief nod of their heads at him. With Rea at his shoulder, he turned to face the villagers.
“It’s good to see you back in Shade, Trent,” a man in the front row said. “Where have you been?”
“Abroad,” the man named Trent said. His voice was strong and commanding. “My journey was a gruelling one, and since my return a few days ago, I’ve been taking my rest in The Weeping Wolf.”
Noticing again how Rea was glancing at Trent, I couldn’t help but wonder if I had been wrong about Calix and her. Perhaps it was Trent and Rea I’d heard having sex? Calix had always denied that there was anything like that between him and Rea. Perhaps he had been telling the truth. Why was there a remote part of me that suddenly felt pleased about that? Perhaps I had misjudged Calix? Perhaps I’d misjudged myself, too? If it had truly been Rea and Trent that I’d heard making out, then I doubted very much that he had been getting very much rest.
With the church now so quiet that I could hear the rustle of the leaves in the trees outside, Trent looked at the villagers. With a sombre frown masking his striking looks, he started to speak to them again. “I fear that what Rea has explained is true. The wall that surrounds our village grows weak and has been breached. The magic that protected us grows weak. It is the weakening spell that endangers us and not our new friend,” he said, his eyes searching me out in the crowd.
It wasn’t the way his eyes locked with mine that startled me as much as what he had just said. Had I heard him right? Had he spoken of magic – had he mentioned the word ‘spell’? I shook my head as if waking from a dream. Was the magic spell that he had spoken of connected to the young witch I had come in search of – the witch my parents had come to Shade to seek out? My parents had once told me stories that she had brought an end to the war between the Beautiful Immortals – that she had found a truce. Was the magic that Trent claimed had protected Shade been part of that truce? If the magic that defended Shade was now weakening, would the truce fracture too and come to an end? Would the remaining humans be in danger from the Beautiful Immortals once more?
/> “What should we do?” the woman wearing the black bonnet spoke up again.
“Go home,” Trent said. “Lock your doors and windows. We will head back into the woods tonight and destroy whatever it is that has found a way into Shade.”
As if not needing any further warning, and with fear bright in their eyes, the villagers began to stream out of the church. Those with children held onto their hands so tight that their knuckles shone white through their pale skin. Pulling the hood of my hoodie back over my head, I too headed for the door. I could see Morten making his way between the pews toward me. I didn’t want to be held up by him, even though I had nowhere in particular to go. I just didn’t want to be pressed by him as to the real reason he had found me creeping about in the graveyard last night. So turning my back, I headed for the door. Before I’d the chance to reach it, I felt a long slender and bony hand curl around my arm. I didn’t need to look back to know who had taken hold of me. How did Morten do that? How did he move so fast? It wasn’t the first time that he had snuck up on me as if appearing from nowhere. Slowly, I pulled my hood back down and turned to face him.
“I was rather surprised to find you in the graveyard so late last night,” Morten said right on cue. “I thought you were off undertaking some shooting practice.”
“I’d had enough of practice for one day,” I said, easing my arm free of his grip.
He let his fingers fall away, but not once did he take his eyes from me – not once did his twisted smile falter. “And how were the bullets?”
“Bullets?” I frowned and over his shoulder I could see Calix leave the church, heading out into the graveyard. He looked back just once at me before disappearing from my view.
“The box of bullets I gave you, did they work okay?” Morten asked.
“They worked just fine,” I lied. How could I tell him that Calix had said the bullets were nothing but crap and if used they would’ve blown my head off? But then again, perhaps that’s why Morten had given the bullets to me. Maybe he hadn’t been surprised to see me in the graveyard last night – he had been surprised to see me at all. From the corner of my eye, I saw Rea and Trent approaching. I pushed the paranoid thoughts I’d had about Morten and the bullets from my mind and turned to face Rea and Trent. Rush was a few paces behind them. As I turned, I couldn’t help but notice Morten slink away and out into the graveyard.
