Dark Winter: Trilogy
Page 27
Toril was half-bluffing. Dana stayed or went in a manner of her own choosing, and everyone knew that. Still, Toril wasn’t about to back down until Dana released her hands from Jacinta’s throat.
"You know the rules," said Dana. "I’ve been summoned to kill. Now your friend tells me there’s no one to kill after all."
As soon as Dana finished speaking Toril received a vision in her head. Dana was there, saying that all she wanted was to rest, have peace, and not kill any more.
Toril struggled to process this new information. She could not believe that Dana would give up her killing ways, just like that.
"Why shouldn’t I kill her? Huh? Answer me!" snapped Dana. Toril was back in reality once more.
"Because….because, you won’t," said Toril. "After you do a kill, you’re vulnerable until you get back to the chasm where you rest. Kill my friend, and you know you will never get back there again. I’ll see to it that you don’t."
Dana shrugged and relaxed her grip. Jacinta spluttered and retched on the ground.
Toril helped Jacinta up, who looked at her and said "I knew you’d save me. Holmes always looks after Watson, right?"
Toril wanted to say something back in kind, but there was no time.
Dana screamed as the axe, one she recognised all too well, flew towards her. Troy had found his quarry, and hurled it quite some distance. As the school javelin champion, he wasn’t likely to miss.
Dana moved quickly, but not quick enough, and screamed in pain as the blade caught her shoulder.
The axe continued onwards, and before Toril could do anything, the spinning blade buried itself in Jacinta’s back.
The Devil Within
Clasping the still frozen Beth, and also Jacinta, to her body, Toril uttered a displacement spell. She didn’t know where they would end up, but that they simply had to get away from Troy, Dana and the Forest.
Toril heard Dana’s damnation ringing in her ears as she and her friends moved to apparent safety.
They had arrived by The Dying Swan, a local pub and restaurant. Although too young to go in, Toril had been in there once before. Back then, she had wore some heavy make-up and could have passed for someone at least twenty-one years old.
This time, she doubted she would get past the door. She did not want to unfreeze Beth just now, but only because she wanted to shield her from the uncomfortable truth.
Jacinta had been fatally wounded.
***
If Jacinta was to have any chance at all, it lay with the Mirror, which was now far from Toril’s possession.
I was strapped to a table – a sacrificial altar, if you will, and was completely helpless. If Curie wanted to do something to me, I was powerless to do anything about it.
I was a worm trapped in his raven’s beak.
Next door, I could hear blades being sharpened against a lathe. Whatever time I had left on this earth, it wasn’t going to be much.
If only, if only I could get to the Mirror.
***
Toril was attempting to communicate with me, I could feel it, but I could not decode the message. Maybe she needed the Mirror, but I couldn’t help her with that, even if I wanted to.
The dark side of me felt that both she and Troy had worked together to get me out of the picture. I couldn’t protect Beth if I wanted to now, and I really did.
Don’t worry Romilly, when the blade drops onto your neck, I won’t let it kill you.
I wish the demon would leave me.
As far as I knew, Beth was with Toril. Her fate would be tied to the choices Toril made.
Somehow I had to believe that Toril was doing the things she was doing was for good, and not for ill. I just had no evidence to support that.
***
People were laughing in the secure, cosy, alcohol fuelled surroundings of the Dying Swan.
Toril elected not to go into the pub. No-one there could help anyway, and she decided that Jacinta’s final moments could be with her.
She lay her gently on the ground, and tried to work the axe out of her back.
Blood poured from Jacinta’s mouth, and to Toril’s surprise, she spoke.
"Leave it. Leave it now. Got to look after our friends."
Toril’s cool expression evaporated and tears poured out of her.
"I have to save you, come on now."
"It’s….not so bad. Not so bad as you think. Remember, Holmes doesn’t cry. Though I did tear up for you earlier."
Wiping some tears from her face, still more came.
"That’s because he always has Watson with him. Holmes couldn’t do much without Watson."
Jacinta smiled. "But you can, and you will. Sorry I won’t be there to see it. You’ll be an all powerful witch, you’ll see."
If anyone else had said this, at any other time, Toril would have wanted to sneer, but this was her friend’s last moments. It wasn’t the time to be snobbish. She felt angry that she was totally powerless. She knew of no spell that could bring back someone from the dead. That sort of thing was some kind of dark craft, of which she would have no part of. At least, she could not envisage that right now.
"I’ll make it okay. I’ll fix you up," said Toril, lying. Blotches of red protruded through Jacinta’s clothes.
Jacinta broke Toril’s train of thought.
"At least…at least some of those…those…things….didn’t make it. I didn’t do bad, did I? By calling Dana?"
"No, Jay. You did good. Real good. I’m proud of you."
"I….I got something right then. I just…really don’t want to die."
But die, she did. Those were Jacinta’s last words. Her eyes stared motionless into the night sky. For a few moments, the snow had receded, but as Jacinta breathed her last, the spiteful flakes hurled downwards once more.
***
Toril lay with Jacinta in her arms until she felt her body going cold and stiff. Almost absent-mindedly, she clicked her fingers to snap Beth out of her immobile state. She knew Beth would not be as cool as Jacinta, but she needed help.
She needed me and the Mirror. But most of all, Toril wanted vengeance.
In the cold light of day, she would come to realise that Troy’s aim was at Dana, not Jacinta. He had probably never meant to kill her, but she didn’t believe he was totally innocent either.
He would have to pay, one way or another, but Dana deserved to meet her end too.
"I’ll see to it," said Toril, under her breath.
Beth looked around, heavily disorientated. Her eyes then set on Toril, who was still cradling Jacinta.
With tears streaming down her face, she gently closed Jacinta’s eyes.
"What-what happened? Oh my God!" said Beth.
"No, it’s alright, you see Beth," said Toril, dreamily. "She’s just sleeping. It’ll be okay."
Beth was mortified, and had a million questions to ask, but she knew she had to stay quiet this time. How could Jacinta be dead? She sank to her knees and tried to comfort a very distressed Toril.
***
Unable to free myself from my restraints, I had no idea that Jacinta was dead, or in what circumstances she had met her demise. I looked around the room. It was dark, save for a window to my right side. I half smiled at the bars placed vertically and horizontally across it.
Anyone who found themselves in this room were not expected to escape, that was for sure.
I turned my head as far to the right as I could, and could see a small vent where you could escape. If you were a mouse, that is.
Unfortunately, I was not the size of a mouse, although I was as scared as one that had been cornered by a cat.
The room felt soundproofed from the weather outside, which switched seamlessly between sleet, rain and snow.
In fact, things were eerily silent. Too silent. Except for one sound of course.
Only a few feet away in the next room, Curie was sharpening some kind of weapon.
He had already threatened to kill me with an axe, but it see
med a bit over the top, too theatrical, even for him.
I considered it must be a much smaller weapon, perhaps a knife with a serrated edge. That would suit the – what would you call this – the occasion.
Curie would want to stand over me, and have me look at him, deep into his black eyes, whilst he applied the blade to my throat.
He wouldn’t toy with me, not after the last time he and I were in the same room together. There would be no prodding with the blade this time. He would cut deep, and clean. He’d probably try and make it last as long as he could in order that I would feel the maximum pain before I would die.
Listening next door to the sounds of the blade being sharpened, he could probably take my head clean off with it.
I tried to wriggle free once more. No good. The binds were tight. Professional. Troy knew what he was doing.
In the end, I knew that there was only one person who could help me. I would simply have to trust her, something I was not good at doing. I wished with all my heart that there was some way I could get a message to Toril.
I needed her to rescue me.
***
"A plan."
"What?" said Toril.
"A plan!" said Beth. "I assume you have one?"
"I need to think."
Beth grabbed Toril by the arms. "Look. There is no time. You think losing Jacinta is bad? We could all end up dead."
"Don’t tell me what to do!" said Toril. "I am thinking. I will figure out what to do. You aren’t helping me, being like this."
"Maybe you wish that axe hit me instead of Jacinta. Fine. I understand that," said Beth sadly.
Toril wanted to spit back a retort, but she knew Beth was hurting, just as bad as she was.
"Beth, I need you more than ever. Please, just be a support, be a friend, okay?"
Beth hugged herself, trying to get some warmth into her body.
"What do you need me to do?"
Toril’s mind was racing, thinking about different people, and was considering multiple outcomes. Although she was thinking about me, she was also thinking about Troy and how he came by that axe. The axe that hurt Dana.
Somewhere, she was thinking that rescuing me and retrieving the Mirror was the most important thing. But Toril, who was normally more level headed than most if not all of the people I knew, made a different decision.
"I need you to help me lay Jacinta somewhere. Somewhere where she can be at peace."
Beth couldn’t believe it. In her head, she thought I can’t believe you’re giving up.
Beth was thinking that the Toril she knew would stop at nothing to resurrect Jacinta, if she could. Beth had heard of such things, things that witchcraft could do. Raising the dead.
"You mark my words, Beth O’Neill," said her mother one day. "There are queer folk who can summon such devilry to serve their own selfish ends. We’ll have no part of that. This is a holy place."
For Beth, the ‘holy place’ was a bit too much. There were crucifixes everywhere, some with Jesus on the cross, others without. Some gold, some silver, some in wood. But so many of them. Even ones above Beth’s headstand on her bed, so that she was reminded not to give into ‘temptation’.
It was no wonder the Sister Beth mantle had stuck throughout her entire school life.
Toril, Jacinta, and of course myself had never called her that and we never would. Even Toril, who would fully admit to feeling tempted now, wouldn’t want to hurt Beth.
"Of course Toril, anything you want."
Jacinta, well meaning as she was, had messed with dark craft, and look what had happened.
"We can’t stay here," said Toril. "Beth, you know about churches. Is there anywhere we can take her? You know, just for safekeeping for a night or so?"
Since the late 1990s churches were locked, except for when masses were being said or other ceremonies were taking place.
"Beth?"
"Oh!"
"What were you doing? I asked you a question."
"Thinking," said Beth.
That hurt, but Toril let it slide.
"I’m thinking that you cannot take her to a church, but a chapel might be a possibility. Just we have to go to a place maybe you don’t want to go to, that’s all."
Toril knew what Beth meant. Dead bodies, hundreds, maybe thousands of them.
"A cemetery. With all the devils around us. What solace can be found amongst the bones of the dead? I never know why people visit those places. We're supposed to love flowers, yet we rip them from their homes, and give them to people who don't love us. What’s the bloody point?"
"Yes. Well. Sorry Toril, it’s all I can think of."
"It’s a good thought, on this dark night," said Toril. "Let’s go."
Nobody saw the two girls disappear into the night with Jacinta’s body in their arms.
***
As I lay strapped to the table, I wondered what my last moments would be like. Should I close my eyes when that blade crosses my throat, or should I look Curie right into his eyes as he does it.
Nan, where are you? You meant for me to have the Mirror, I did as you bade me, and look what has happened.
I really didn’t believe I was meant to have the Mirror. Maybe Nan made a mistake. Maybe-
A sharp pain in my shoulder shattered my thoughts.
Curie was standing over me.
"Well Romilly, I had to get your attention. You were in a world of your own, dear. I wanted to tell you why you are here. Even if you’ve figured it out, it’s only right I should tell you. You see, I have respect for you, Romilly. You’re not like those others. They, in turn, are not like you. You see? You’re more like me, actually.
You and I often passed each other in school. I would nod to you, and you would sometimes acknowledge me. I felt, oh…appreciated! You were a nice girl.
Then there was the Withers girl and that albino friend of hers. Both bad seeds. I am sure you know what I mean. Beth O’Neill, what a pain she was. All three scowled at me, which just wasn’t fair.
Not you though, Romilly. Not you. Ever wondered why that was? I for one did."
I let him talk, hoping that it would delay the inevitable long enough for either Toril to free me or for Troy to come to his senses.
As Curie continued his inane babble, I prayed. Hard. Hoping that I could get out of this situation.
"One of the worst jobs at the school was cleaning out the bins. A pretty girl like you probably doesn’t know what I mean. Of course, someone like you wouldn’t go and frequent that area, where the bins are. I mean, why ever would you? Do you know what lies there, Romilly? Amidst all the rubbish?"
Was this a rhetorical question? Curie seemed far too interested in talking about himself than being interested in hearing anything I had to say. I remained quiet, and very still, though my eyes remained locked on him, and the axe he held in his hand.
"Rats. Lots of rats. In the summer, you can add insects to that. Oh, the stings I would get on my arms, Romilly, you should see that. That, you should see. From bees, and wasps, of course. Horrible blighters, they really are."
He’s right. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to do such a job.
"No appreciation though. None at all. Sometimes the schoolchildren would raise a hand in my direction. The boys, mainly. Some would give a thumbs up to me. I can tell you that some of those boys will be doing my line of work in the future. Of course, they don’t know that yet."
"The girls though, they would rarely acknowledge me. I mean, why shouldn’t they? I was removing your rubbish, your filth, Romilly. Am I not deserving of acknowledgement? Is Toril Withers too great to say hello to me, is Beth O’Neill so holier than thou that she cannot send a kind look in my direction. Jacinta Crow? Does she think she is the only one that something bad has happened to her? How goddamn selfish. How dare they treat me so badly."
"Looking at the rats and the wasps would fascinate you, Romilly, and it certainly fascinated me. I could learn from these creatures, you see. Hav
e you ever observed them, and watched what they do? Rats don’t just bite, and wasps don’t just sting. Oh no, Romilly, to think like that would be to think them too primitive. Which I assure you they are not."
"I wouldn’t expect someone like Toril Withers or Beth O’Neill to think about that when they see a wasp. I’ve seen them, those two, killing a wasp, even when it was just flying close by their ankles and not attacking them. You know why they killed that wasp, Romilly? Because it was smaller, and weaker than them. They killed it because they could."
"I won’t deny I took a swing at a few of them myself. But having to deal with your garbage meant that I didn’t have time to kill them all. I just wore some repellent. Maybe it was that which made girls like you despise me. You must have thought I reeked like that all the time."