Dark Winter: Trilogy

by Hennessy, John

  "Uh?"

  "You haven’t said a word since we come out of the house. What gives?"

  "Oh. That. Hmm."

  Toril was trying to process things in her mind. Jacinta pressed on regardless.

  "Toril. I bet you are really focussed when doing your casting. Care to let me in on this?"

  Casting. The mention of anything Wiccan broke Toril’s distraction technique.

  "Well, yes, you’re right of course," said Toril. "We’re going to Curie’s."

  Toril must have said this in such a down to earth way, that Jacinta grabbed her by the arm and spun her around to face her.

  "What? Why would you go there?"

  "I don’t really know," said Toril. "Something…something’s off, Jay. I can’t really explain. I just need to know that Beth and Romilly are okay. Okay?"

  "Romilly?" said Jacinta incredulously. "What could she have to do with Curie? She’s not even that close to Beth anymore."

  True. At school, I hadn’t been that close to Beth, or anyone. We shared a unique bond now, and our fate was tied to each other.

  "Jacinta, this is important, please."

  Toril rarely had to plead with anyone, they usually did what she asked. She had a forthrightness about her that many people found hard to deal with.

  Jacinta ran her fingers through her white hair. Toril had gotten used to how her friend looked, of course, but maybe people still stared at Jacinta. Toril wondered sometimes how she could cope with it.

  "Sure, okay Toril, whatever you want. What is it? What do you think it is?"

  "I think Curie’s involved somehow too. I wish I could explain it. But I think the girls are in danger."

  Toril wanted to say more, but she didn’t think it was the time to tell Jacinta about the Mirror. After the ouija board incident, and the visit from whatever that demon was, her friend had made a good recovery.

  At school, Jacinta had been singled out by almost everyone as being dead behind the eyes. Her parents were found dead in mysterious circumstance, and whatever had happened, Jacinta had not breathed a word of it to anyone. But overnight, her blonde hair changed to all white.

  Toril had asked her a few times to tell her what had happened. Jacinta would not give it up.

  So what was this, some kind of revenge? No, Toril wouldn’t do that. By not mentioning the Mirror, she supposed and hoped it would help to keep Jacinta safe. Toril couldn’t be sure about that of course, but still, by telling her, she would involve Jacinta.

  What was there to tell, anyway? Romilly was convinced the Mirror had some kind of power. The fact that I didn’t see it or feel it doesn’t make Romilly a liar.

  Toril was good at reasoning. But when she got feelings like this, logic and deduction were removed from the equation. Finally, after what must have seemed like an age, she spoke up to Jacinta, not really confirming or denying anything.

  "It’s important I go. If I’m honest, I don’t really want to involve you, Jay, or anyone for that matter, but I need back up. You’ve just got to trust me on this. Don’t ask me any questions and I won’t lie to you."

  "Fair enough," said Jacinta. "Do you think we’ll be coming out of this okay?"

  Jacinta afforded Toril a rare smile. Toril smiled back. The question was just meant to lighten the mood.

  Toril was considering her friend’s question, all the same. This Curie situation was coming to a head. Toril didn’t consider it a strength that possibly it would be a case of four against one.

  Curie was dangerous, and even if half of what Beth thought of him was true, they would need all the spells in her repertoire.

  Toril’s mind raced. In her Wiccan studies, she knew little of black magic, but expected that her white magic might not be strong enough against someone like Curie. There were spells that she could cast that could at least render some of his powers unusable, but would that be enough?

  Jacinta uttered no words of comfort, but linked arms with Toril, who broke her train of thought and smiled a half-smile.

  That was wiped out in an instant. The words were out of Toril’s mouth before she could stop herself.

  "Jay, I think Beth and Romilly are dead."

  ***

  Curie’s house was an oddity. Within five hundred yards proximity to the school, it cast an eerie glow over the more modern school building. The kids had speculated that Curie hadn’t bathed in years. Others thought he bathed in rats blood, because one day, after the holidays, the school had to be closed for three days. It had gotten infested with rats.

  The exterminators were called in, but to no avail. If anything, the rat population was multiplying faster than they could clear them out of the school.

  Then, Curie, who, had returned from where-ever a man like him goes for a holiday, stepped into the school, and the legend has in that the rats followed him out.

  Of course, Curie was no Pied Piper of Hamlin, nor did he possess a flute, but the rats followed him out of there nonetheless. People who looked on in morbid disbelief had said that he didn’t seem repulsed by them either. How could a man who welcomed rats into his home, be allowed to work in a school?

  Brown rats, white rats. Brown and white rats. And some other colours too, perhaps affected by the diseases of which they carried, walked obediently behind Curie, until he approached his home.

  He put his key in the door, and once the lock clicked, he gestured to the side entry, pointing towards it with his left index finger. The rats seemed to have understood. Stepping, scurrying and climbing over each other to get in the side entry, in there they went and made it their home.

  They had not been seen ever since. Older schoolchildren would make the newest pupils terrified by stories of Curie the Rat Catcher, Curie the Axe Man, Curie the Hermit.

  These were just some of the nice names for him. He was also known as Diabhal. The Gaelic word for Devil.

  This was the one name that bothered the unusually unflappable Toril the most.

  Not one for being talkative, Jacinta broke with tradition and spoke first. There had been a long pause whilst Toril tried to make sense of things in her head.

  "Penny for your thoughts?" inquired Jacinta.

  Still looking like she was trying to divide thirty-three thousand and one-hundred and twenty two by one-hundred and seventeen in her head, Jacinta repeated her question.

  "Oh!" said Toril with a jolt. "I was just thinking how we would be able to deal with Curie, you know, once we get to the house."

  "That’s simple," said Jacinta dryly. "You’ll cast a spell on him, that’ll do it."

  "If he’s human, probably. If he’s not, the outcome will be a bit more unpredictable."

  "If he’s human?" Jacinta was stunned out of her dry state of personality. "Whatever do you mean? Of course he’s human!"

  "Well…."

  "You don’t think so?"

  "I…I don’t know anymore. It’s for the best if I don’t focus on that."

  "I hardly think that’s a basis for the accusation, Toril. Aren’t you always going on about a process of reasonable deduction leading to the only conclusion?"

  Toril was surprised. Jacinta was using more words today than she normally used in a month. Syllable overload.

  "He’s Diabhal, the Devil, the Axe Man, you know." Toril almost sounded the words pleadingly to Jacinta, as if she was trying to convince herself. "That’s what they say."

  "He’s weird." Toril tried to reaffirm what she really thought of Curie.

  "I’ve been told I’m weird," said Jacinta. "As for what they say, I’m not fussed about that! Ooh, look at the girl with white hair! Let’s make fun of her! Honestly Toril, you should be careful about what you say about people."

  Toril bristled.

  "So you don’t think it was weird that those rats followed him from the school to the grounds of his house? You don’t think it was weird that evidence linked him to the murder of our friend Beth’s parents? You don’t think it’s weird that creature visited us when we played ouija an
d on the same night, for Beth to trip over a body bag containing a body right in Curie’s back yard? You don’t think that it’s weird that Curie survived an attack by a demon that Beth summoned? You really don’t think so?"

  Toril hadn’t meant for it to be all blurted out like that, but it was unavoidable. Perhaps it had been boiling up inside her for longer than she thought, and now Jacinta got the brunt of it.

  Jacinta looked non-plussed, which annoyed Toril even more.

  "Jacinta?"

  "Well…maybe. It’s all rather circumstantial though. Nothing was ever proved."

  "That doesn’t mean he’s innocent."

  "It doesn’t mean he’s guilty either," said Jacinta, matter-of-factly. "I thought you would know that, being the Holmes nerd and everything."

  Jacinta was pushing Toril’s buttons. Toril loved Sherlock Holmes, and rarely did her hero show any signs of getting hot under the cover. Whatever Jacinta or anyone else thought, she believed that Curie was guilty of all of those things. Evidence pointed to it. He had gotten away with it for now, that was all.

  Jacinta Crow had a way of winding people up, but with friends, it was possible she didn’t even realise what she was doing.

  Toril understood that. That’s why I’m not going to take the bait. I won’t be some helpless fish, hooked by Jacinta’s worm. I’m going to be cool, like Holmes.

  "Jacinta. It’s fine. You know my methods. The truth will out, in the end. It always does."

  Quoting Sherlock Holmes was something Toril loved to do, but had so few opportunities. She needed to stay calm, and deal with the situation. Getting annoyed with Jacinta wasn’t the point. Checking on Curie, and hoping that he didn’t have Beth and Romilly and whoever else holed up in that house of hell, was the only thing to see to.

  Sherlock Holmes applied a precision-like-a-laser approach to everything he did. Toril was going to have to do the same.

  As Toril and Jacinta approached Curie’s house, the wind howled and the trees folded in an arch, the water from the branch leaves wetted the girls as they walked on up the lane.

  "I really hate rain," said Toril, frustrated with herself that she was trying to show Jacinta her Holmesesque coolness, and was failing miserably.

  "I don’t mind it," said Jacinta. "It makes everything fresh."

  Toril wanted to reply, but in her head she could only come up with negatives, like how the constant rain depressed her, made her clothes and shoes wet, and would bring darkness to an otherwise bright day.

  "Perhaps," replied Toril unconvincingly.

  We stood just a few feet from the gate. It was a wide wooden gate, with a rusted bolt and an even rustier latch to secure it with. Toril thought it would make too much noise.

  "Maybe we can jump over," said Toril. "I’m not sure it will open, or is meant to be opened."

  "You can’t jump in that outfit," said Jacinta. "You’ll rip your clothes."

  Jacinta was wearing blue jeans and a white scoop neck top with pink flowers on it. She could climb over, no problem.

  "So you’ll be okay, but I can’t join you?" said Toril. "Negative. We both go in."

  Fully aware they would be making a lot of noise, Toril slid back the latch on the gate.

  It groaned awkwardly, and as Toril pulled at it, the rain came down even harder.

  The latch moved, but not enough.

  "Damn it!" said Toril. "Bloody thing won’t budge."

  Jacinta stood looking at Toril, with her arms folded, one hand resting under her chin.

  "You don’t know any Wiccan spells to open this?"

  "No, Jacinta, I don’t. We have to open it the old fashioned way. Help me, will you?"

  At that moment, Toril slipped, getting mud all over her clothes. "Oh damn it! I can’t bloody believe this."

  Jacinta helped her up, but it was rather too late.

  "I’m a mess. No matter," said Toril. "Let’s just get this over with."

  Without changing her expression, Jacinta followed Toril inside.

  "I can’t see any rats, can you?" said Jacinta.

  "Maybe not," said Toril, "Maybe not," said Toril, "but I bet that there’s a huge rat inside."

  "Hope you’ve got something to catch it with then."

  Tugging at her pentacle, Toril turned to Jacinta and said, with the steeliest of determination,

  said, "You bet I do."

  Toril marched up and turned the door handle down. She was not at all surprised to find it unlocked.

  Five Lives for Five Souls

  Curie had been given orders by Diabhal to get at least three souls. He would be so pleased with him when he learned that he had not only got three souls ready for trading, but that another two were on the way.

  Not only that, but one of those he had already trapped, possessed the long lost Mirror of Souls.

  Today was a momentous one, to say the least.

  He wondered if Toril and Jacinta would have turned around ran home as fast as their legs would carry them, if they knew what was in store for them.

  He also knew, of course, that the girls had entered the house.

  No matter. He had moved the girls’ bodies out of the side entry, just in case Toril and Jacinta were as stupid as the other two had been.

  He wanted to make both myself and Beth look good for our presentation though, and well, now he had less time to do it in. Toril and Jacinta had arrived early.

  Still, along with the boy, that was five souls to trade. What a huge day this was going to be.

  Being male, and 6’1" in height, Troy Jackson had been the hardest to kidnap, but Curie had done it. Diabhal had a test for Curie and for Troy, but the test was unknown. All he knew, was that it would have to wait until he had wrested the Mirror from me.

  Now that my body lay dead, he could claim the Mirror and use it for himself. He just had to keep my soul intact a little while longer. Cinderfyll, made from orchid tips and ground cinnamon powder, was all that was needed. He had dumped our bodies into a wheelbarrow, then carried them, one by one into the carving room.

  He set Beth up first, sitting her into a chair. Then he carried my body and put it in another chair.

  He looked at both of us, and decided it wasn’t quite right, and placed Beth’s hands in her lap, then placed my hands over mine.

  My neck was weak from Beth’s strangulation, and my head kept flopping forward, bobbed around a little, then stopped moving. When Curie tried to straighten me up again, the same thing happened again.

  His eyes brightened when he saw a thin red sash, like a belt, on my torn and bloodied jeans. The blood had soaked into my jeans quite deeply, but somehow, the sash was unspoilt.

  He slid the sash out gently, wrapped it around the top of my head, and with great care, pulled back on it, and tied it to the back of the chair.

  He clapped his hands together. "Good! Good! Oh yes, this looks just great!"

  Looking around the room, which was pretty sparse in furnishings except for the chairs, Curie decided it was time to bring in the boy.

  "He’s going to love this," said Curie to himself. Getting a damp cloth, Curie cleansed the remaining blood from Beth’s face, before working on mine.

  We looked almost normal, but the subterfuge wouldn’t last long. Our souls would be departing soon.

  Curie pushed his hands down on windows he already knew were locked tight, but he checked them again and again anyway.

  Hands on hips, he smiled brightly and looked in our direction.

  "Can’t be too careful, eh girls? Got to keep-you-two-safe-and-sound."

  He gestured, pointing at us with his right index finger to further emphasis the words.

  "Don’t go away, I’ll be right back," he laughed.

  Beth and I sat, bolt upright, knees placed together, our hands overlapping. We bore a deathly vacant expression on our faces. We were dead. We were going nowhere.

  ***

  Moments later, not that the passage of time meant anything for us anymore, Curie returned.
If our ears had been functioning, you would have heard him panting as he made his way back up into the room. The bodybag snagged angrily on a nail sticking up from the floor where a bit of old carpet had been stuck down.

  A moan from the bag was heard elsewhere in the house, but they wouldn’t find him just yet, and when they did, everything would be in place. It couldn’t be avoided. It was meant to happen. It will happen. The trade would be made in the carving room.

  ***

  "There! I told you!" said Toril to Jacinta. "Didn’t you hear it?"

  "No, I didn’t," said Jacinta. "You know I’m deaf in my right ear."