‘Just who is this mysterious Elen?’ asked Joyce.
I am.
The sudden whispered voice directly ahead of them seemed to come out of nowhere, and startled the pair. They glanced around, trying to see who had spoken, but could see nobody. Theo glanced behind again, even though the voice emanated from completely the opposite direction.
‘Where are you?’ he said in a commanding voice, betraying none of his apprehension.
Elen appeared before them as suddenly as Max had vanished.
Joyce squealed in alarm.
Theo passed out from shock.
*
On the drive back to Four Oaks from Tunbridge Wells, a great chasm of silence separated Matthew from his mother. Neither of them was sure what to say to the other about what was going on.
Eventually, Margaret turned to her son as he waited for the traffic light ahead to turn green. ‘Can you feel her inside you, this girl’s spirit?’
Matthew sighed with relief, glad the silence was finally broken. ‘At times I am aware that there is someone else in here with me, but I have no real knowledge of her, and I have no memory of her either.’
‘I heard you speaking in her voice that last time you visited us at home, so I know she comes and goes from time to time.’
Matthew was astonished that his mother had said nothing about this before, but at the same time could understand her silence. ‘What about Dad? Have you heard him speak in the other voice?’
‘Only once. The pair of you were having a conversation. She is his daughter, I know that much. They were waiting for the return of someone else, so I believe.’
‘Do you reckon that’s why Lucinda attacked Dad?’
‘You think she’s carrying the other spirit they were waiting for?’
Matthew nodded. ‘It’s a possibility.’
‘Do you think it’s this Sawyl Gwilym I keep hearing mentioned?’
The light changed to green and Matthew drove off. He concentrated on his driving, but answered his mother’s question. ‘No, I don’t think it’s him. I have a feeling that the spirit Lucinda carries is working for Sawyl Gwilym, and was trying to get Liam up to Wicca Hill alone.’
‘Oh… so you think the boy is Sawyl Gwilym then?’
Matthew sighed. ‘I really don’t know. I certainly hope not! I’m thinking that perhaps Sawyl attacked Liam at Wicca Hill, causing him to fall down the rock face whilst trying to escape. Which begs the question – did he escape Sawyl’s clutches or not? Of course, this is all pure speculation, because we don’t actually know what really happened to Liam.’
‘So why exactly are we going up to that hill?’
‘Because I think there’s still something up there, or perhaps someone… and I want some answers.’
Margaret could not imagine what kind of person might be loitering atop a supposedly haunted hill; someone with a morbid fascination for supernatural tales and with far too much time on their hands. She did not want to think of what might happen should they actually encounter this person; in fact, she could not really understand why Matthew wanted to go there, and did not really want to go herself. However, she also did not wish to contemplate her son up there alone, perhaps to suffer the same fate that befell poor Liam Samwell, so she avowed to remain by her son’s side no matter what happened.
When they arrived at Four Oaks, the gates were open, and as they drove through, Matthew stopped the car, climbed out and closed them, before jumping back behind the wheel to continue up to the house.
He parked around the side of the house, and as he and Margaret climbed from the car, they both became aware of the plump young man standing several yards away on the grass.
‘Who’s that?’ asked Margaret.
Matthew frowned. ‘It’s Max Revenant, the estate agent who originally showed me the house last year, and who also gave me the keys after Elaine Oakhurst left the place to me in her will.’
‘That’s a very odd situation. It’s very strange that an estate agent – the same estate agent – should have given you the keys. I would have expected the solicitor dealing with the woman’s estate to do that.’
Matthew nodded. ‘I agree. Do me a favour, Mum – don’t take your eyes off Max. There’s something not quite right about him, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.’
Max came towards them, and it came as no surprise to Matthew to see the man’s appearance was exactly as it had been each time they had previously faced one another.
‘Hello again, Mr Silverthorne,’ Max said in his slightly high pitched voice. ‘How is your father?’
Matthew frowned. ‘How do you know about that?’
‘I could be vague, and say I have my sources, or I could lie, and tell you the village is small and gossip is rife, but time is of the essence here, so I shall tell you the truth. I am a ghost, and I was here at Four Oaks when it happened, but I was powerless to interfere.’
‘A ghost?’ gasped Matthew incredulously as all his theories about the man were proved true in one sentence.
Max sighed. ‘I didn’t think you would believe me, but I have no time to prove it to you.’
Matthew waved his hand. ‘On the contrary, I do believe you. It explains a great many things, like how you are able to appear and disappear at will, about how your appearance is always identical each time I see you.’
‘And how you can be walking on wet grass, yet your shoes remain dry,’ added Margaret.
Max smiled. ‘I see nothing escapes your scrutiny, Mrs Silverthorne.’
‘You say you have no time to prove to us that you are a ghost, yet surely all you need do is pass your hand through me,’ said Matthew.
Max sighed, and gripped Matthew tightly around the wrist.
Matthew grimaced in pain at his tight grasp, more than a little shocked and surprised. ‘How are you able to do that?’
‘I shall explain on the way, but we must hurry from this place. We must reach Mother before the others do.’ Max saw another question form on Matthew’s lips, and silenced him. ‘I promise to answer all of your questions on the way, but really, we must leave right now. I promise equally that no harm shall come to either one of you.’
Matthew glanced at his mother, who shrugged. ‘Well, you did say you wanted to go to the hill via the haunted forest,’ she said. ‘What does it matter if we have a guide?’
Matthew turned back to Max. ‘All right, lead on, but while we walk we want answers.’
‘As you wish,’ Max responded. He turned on his heels and led the way across the grass, over the fallen log that traversed the narrow stream, and into the forbidding depths of Dead Man’s Wood itself.
‘So,’ said Matthew as he and his mother struggled to keep up with Max, who moved with such speed through the treacherous undergrowth that neither Matthew nor Margaret were left in any doubt about his supernatural nature, ‘if you really are a ghost, how are you able to touch me? As I understand it, ghosts can only make small objects move, and they can make their presence felt, but surely you shouldn’t be able to grip hold of me like that?’
‘I can touch you because you have the spirit of another inside you. I cannot touch your mother.’ As if to emphasise his spooky constitution, Max suddenly vanished from up ahead, appearing moments later at Margaret’s side. He passed his hand right through hers, eliciting another squeal of alarm from her. ‘I am sorry,’ Max muttered with a wry smile, and promptly vanished again, reappearing once more up ahead to lead the way.
‘In that case, surely you could have helped prevent Lucinda from attacking my father!’ called Matthew.
Max shook his head sadly. ‘I wish I had been permitted to intervene. However, certain events must be allowed to occur. I am not the best person to explain things to you though. Mother will explain everything.’
Stop messing about, Maxim! Just bring them to me.
The sudden female voice floating all around them seemed to be carried on a non-existent breeze, wafting around their faces and their feet, caress
ing them gently with its tenderness.
The voice was not threatening; indeed, it was altogether comforting – despite the fact that it came from nowhere and yet was everywhere. Matthew frowned. He could swear the voice was familiar.
He was more than certain: he was adamant.
And yet it was just not possible.
‘Whose voice was that?’ he asked.
‘That was my mother. She is most anxious to make the acquaintance of the man who now resides at Four Oaks at last. But we must hurry. Time really is of the essence.’
Max propelled himself along at great speed once more, forcing Matthew and his mother to increase their pace.
They tripped and stumbled their way through the trees, until finally their guide brought them to a halt within a small clearing.
The first thing they saw was Theo, lying prostrate on the damp, leaf-covered ground, with Joyce bent over him. Neither of them moved.
The second thing they saw was the old woman who walked towards them, her smile welcoming. ‘Greetings,’ she said in the same voice that had previously called out to Max. ‘Welcome to my home. I am Maxim’s mother. You may call me Elaine… Elaine Oakhurst.’
At those words, Matthew passed out.
*
Glory froze in her tracks, a few steps ahead of Rachel. She glanced around fearfully, certain she had heard something, less certain of the direction from which it came.
Rachel caught up with the teenager, worried by the look of alarm on her face. ‘Are you all right, dear?’ she asked, peering into the gloom ahead. She did not like the forest; it created its own aura of despair with its permanent shadows, which seemed to move constantly around them. She could not believe how densely packed the trees had become such a short distance in; there seemed barely enough room to squeeze through, with twigs and branches scratching at their arms and faces, snagging their hair and clothing like grasping fingers. Yet, as she turned to look behind them, the way they had come seemed blocked somehow by even more densely constricted trees and enshrouded in darker shadows than those that lay ahead. There was definitely no going back.
In the years she had been living in the area, Rachel had heard tales of the supernatural noises that emanated from deep within the forest, and though she had never personally witnessed such sounds the few times she had passed by the forest, she felt there was enough truth to the rumours to keep her out of Dead Man’s Wood.
But, here she was, having allowed both Glory and herself to be brought into the forest by two spirits, who were bringing up the rear like cowards. They surely had more of an idea of what lay ahead, surmised Rachel a little bitterly, so perhaps they were being wisely cautious – which did not bode will for Glory or for her.
‘Did you hear that noise, Aunt Rachel?’ whispered Glory fearfully, her eyes wide with terror. ‘It was like someone squealing.
Rachel shook her head. ‘I didn’t hear it, but that doesn’t mean you imagined it! These woods are haunted, after all.’ She leaned close to Glory’s ear. ‘Between you and me, I’m not so sure it was a good idea, coming here.’
Glory gripped the old woman’s hand firmly. ‘Let’s be brave together, Aunt Rachel.’
‘That’s the spirit,’ Rachel chuckled. She turned to Louise and Phil as they caught up. ‘How much further must we go?’
Louise shrugged. ‘I have no idea. Thaumaturgia is no longer with me. She departed not long after we entered the woods.’
This news did not especially please Rachel, who wanted to know how they were expected to know when they had reached their destination.
‘We shall be made aware of that fact,’ responded Peter Neville.
‘Well, at least you are still with us, Peter,’ sighed Rachel. ‘We must be grateful for small mercies. So, where has Thaumaturgia gone?’
‘She has come home. She has come to be reunited with her mother at last.’
‘But we were brought here supposedly for our own protection. How can we be protected if Thaumaturgia is not with us?’
Through Phil, Peter smiled. ‘Have no fear, we are protected within these woods by a force more powerful that the Seer.’
‘You mean Elen?’ said Louise. ‘Elen is Thaumaturgia’s mother, isn’t she?’ She remembered that much at least from her joining with the Seer. Thaumaturgia had shared many thoughts and memories with Louise; a whole other lifetimes worth of images, sounds and smells within the space of a few minutes. She knew that Thaumaturgia had been with her constantly since Ravenscreag, remaining unobtrusively in the background of her mind until needed.
Thaumaturgia had wanted to leave her body before, when she had taken her earlier ill-advised walk through these very woods, but something had stopped her. Louise recalled the old woman who appeared before her, whose voice had resounded within her mind, and she realised now that the old woman was Elen.
Elen swiftly and silently had instructed her daughter to remain with Louise a little while longer, for the time had not been right for her departure.
Now, however, Thaumaturgia was gone from her thoughts; her mind was her own – and the consequence was not lost on Louise. The time to which Elen had referred had come at last, and mother and daughter were reunited somewhere in these woods, a formidable force to defeat the encroaching evil.
‘It’s Sawyl Gwilym, isn’t it?’ Louise added. ‘We’re here to try and defeat him!’
Peter Neville nodded reluctantly. ‘He is part of the reason we are here. All shall be explained to you in time, but for the moment, we must keep moving. We have a way yet to go afore we reach our final destination. We have nought to fear within these woods; we are under Elen’s protection. She shall let us know when we have reached our goal.’
He walked past Rachel and Glory, smiling his reassurance. ‘If it would make you more comfortable, I shall take the lead.’
‘Thank you, Peter, that would indeed make us feel better,’ replied Rachel.
Louise fell into step beside her daughter and Rachel as they trailed behind Peter Neville, wondering when Phil would be allowed to return to them. She did not like the manner in which Peter so arbitrarily took control of her husband’s body and refused to relinquish that control at times when it was inappropriate for him to remain.
‘Louise, have you any idea what’s really going on?’
Rachel’s soft voice interrupted Louise’s thoughts, and she shook her head. ‘Yet again, I have been allowed only partial information. She keeps most of her thoughts secret, choosing to show me only that which she feels I need to know. I do have a greater knowledge of the poor woman’s history now though, and increasingly I have a great sympathy for her. I’m actually not all that sure she knows everything herself, but Peter on the other hand…’ She lapsed into silence for a moment.
‘You do not trust Peter Neville?’
Louise shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Rachel. Something isn’t quite right, but I cannot put my finger on it. All I know for certain is that there is far more at stake right here and now than merely the return of Sawyl Gwilym.’ She faced Rachel for a moment. ‘The only person who might tell us everything is Elen, so we must do as Peter Neville asks, and follow him.’
‘You are certain it’s safe in here?’
‘We’re safer in here than we would be had we remained at Four Oaks.’
‘Why so?’
Louise sighed. ‘Because Sawyl Gwilym is there!’
*
Lucinda stepped off the bus at the stop on the eastern-most border of the village, staring ahead to where Wicca Hill dominated the skyline. It was good to be home; freedom smelled sweet, and it was a scent she had no intention of forgetting in a hurry.
The first thing she wanted to do was take a shower. She had not washed properly whilst locked up, and she reeked of stale sweat, and there was nothing more unappealing to Lucinda than smelling like her father.
She fleetingly wondered whether he would be pleased to see her, but then rational thought kicked in. Why should he be pleased to see her? Just becaus
e she had been exonerated from the crime did not necessarily mean her father would suddenly sweep her into his arms and bestow his love upon her. She might be the favoured child, but Ainsley seldom showed affection, so why should now be any different?
The sudden overwhelming desire to return to Four Oaks superseded her first thoughts of a refreshing shower. She knew it was foolish, but that was where all the answers lay. She had to find out what was going on, and Four Oaks was the place to go.
She could feel the spirit within her hyperventilating with excitement. He wanted her to return to Four Oaks, and though she did not know his motivation, she sensed it was not for a good purpose.
Lucinda’s indecisiveness rooted her to the spot. Should she go on to Four Oaks, risk perpetrating some other equally heinous crime unwillingly at the behest of her spirit, or should she return home to The Green Woman Inn, have her refreshing shower and try to put all the unpleasantness behind her? She was always a risk taker, living dangerously. She liked to walk on the wild side, skirt the edge of danger, but something warned her to play it safe this time: there was more at stake than just her own personal safety.
She realised she was standing in the middle of the road only when the driver of the approaching car blasted his horn. She hastily moved to one side, and the taxi passed by. As it did so, the occupant in the rear peered out at her, a mixture of anger and fear on his features.
As Lucinda gazed at the receding face of Roger Silverthorne, she gasped once, twice, and then slumped to her knees. When she regained her balance and stood up again, her pose defiantly masculine, the smile on her face was cold and menacing.
‘So… we begin again!’
*
Having passed the young woman who attacked him, Roger knew at once that she had seen and recognised him. Sensing time was running out, he instructed the driver to drive faster. There was much to be done before the day was through, and if all went to plan, by nightfall it would all finally be over.
Roger could not wait to finally be permanently rid of Hrothgar’s spirit, for Hrothgar had shared all his memories of the things that had happened whilst he controlled his host body. It totally unnerved Roger to think that Hrothgar had been in control of his life for much of the time he and his family lived at Silverthorne Lodge, as it also unnerved him that until Hrothgar had released the memories, he could recall none of the events.
The Master of Prophecy (The Sawyl Gwilym Chronicles Book 2) Page 27
