The Trespassing of Souls

by M S C Barnes

waited.

  Aiden’s pudgy cheeks were flushed and his eyes twinkled with excitement. “This is fantastic isn’t it?” he whispered.

  Clarissa overheard. “Don’t be stupid, Aiden. It’s a pile of grass-covered dirt in a disgusting litter-filled field in the middle of a tatty housing estate. It is anything but fantastic!” she hissed at him.

  “Wonder where all the litter came from.” Seb stared at her.

  She ignored him. “I’m cold, and I’m hungry.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a sweet. Seb noticed that after undoing the wrapper she paused as if ready to drop the paper and then instead stuffed it back in her pocket.

  Mr West began a captivating monologue which covered, in a nutshell, the transformation of lifestyle from the marauding, roaming tribes of ancient England to their gradual conversion to settlement and civilization. He traced the ‘D’ shape of the mound on which they sat with a stubby finger, drawing their attention to how it fell away to a ditch on one side and suggested that the purpose of such earthworks may have been to provide shelter within which early settlements could be built.

  Above them the heavens were a piercing azure blue and the brisk wind had kept the clouds at bay until now. Enthralled by the teacher’s narrative none of them noticed the bank of black and ominous clouds storming towards them from the rear as the wind picked up.

  Mr West continued, “But Waulud’s Bank is more fascinating and amazing than just this overt and tangible record of history.” He paused and glanced around the eager faces of the group. “Through this place, through Waulud’s Bank, runs St Michael’s Line.”

  Aiden squeaked with excitement, “I’ve read about that!”

  “You’ve read about everything!” Zach jovially chided.

  Mr West beamed at Aiden. “You have? So please, do explain to those less well-read, Master Lord.”

  Aiden happily began, “St Michael’s Line is a ley line. Ley lines are straight lines which join the tops of hills and along which you will always find hallowed or sacred places, like churches, burial grounds, henges and so on. They’re sort of mystic highways— ”

  Zach butted in, “Aiden, England is very hilly and I am sure if you drew a straight line on a map of England you would always find the tops of hills, churches and ancient monuments and things along it. There’s nothing mystic about that – just lots of history!”

  “Ah, Master Orwell, but that is not so. Yes, with any line drawn across a map of this great patch of Earth you would get a smattering of churches, old graveyards, the occasional barrow, but along ley lines there are many, many of these sites.” While speaking, Mr West delved in his jacket pocket and pulled a tattered map from it. He spread the huge document on the grass and as the wind played violently with it indicated for Zach and Aiden to sit themselves on the corners for anchorage. Everyone else crowded in.

  The huge paper showed a map of England and in green marker pen a straight line had been drawn, running from Land’s End at the bottom left to Bury St Edmunds on the right. Along the line, black dots had been marked.

  As Mr West pointed to the first dot he was interrupted by Clarissa, “Burrow’s Mump? That can’t possibly really exist!”

  Mr West ignored her, keeping his finger on the first point. “This line begins at Land’s End and traverses St Michael’s Mount,” he ran his finger along the line to the next dot, “a monastery on an island off the coast of Cornwall. Taking the line back up through England, see here …” he poked the map with his nail as the wind really picked up, “the line runs through an ancient site, a set of three stone circles, called the Hurlers.” Zach chuckled. Mr West said, “You would do well not to laugh. Legend has it that the stones are actually the petrified remains of men who dared to practice hurling on the Sabbath. A punishment indeed!”

  “Wish we’d gone there!” Clarissa mumbled.

  “Miss Stone!” Mr West glared at her, then after a moment he again pointed at the map. “Burrows Mump does exist … but is also called St Michael’s Borough. It is one of two famous Somerset hills, Glastonbury Tor being the other, also traversed by this line and both of which have churches atop them dedicated to the Archangel.

  “Other sites along the line include Avebury Henge and Big Rings near Abingdon. It continues into Bedfordshire to— ” he pointed at the ruffling map.

  “Waulud’s Bank!” Aiden squealed. “And look, it goes through Royston! Isn’t our next trip to Royston Cave?”

  “It is indeed, Master Lord. But this isn’t just about dots on a map. This is about a ley line.” He widened his eyes. There was silence except for the haunting howl of the wind. Mr West studied their faces before continuing. “You all understand that a compass needle finds magnetic north?” They nodded. “Well the Earth has a magnetic field and it has long been believed that animals – such as birds, whales, bees and so on – navigate by use of this field. They have a certain tissue in their bodies which contains a substance called magnetite and by this they sense changes in the magnetic field. That is how the Arctic Tern can navigate its way across more than 21,000 miles of land and ocean each year; how salmon can find their way back to their spawning pools; how whales, butterflies, caribou and all manner of living things manage to find their way without use of map, compass or …” he looked at Clarissa, “satnav!

  “Interestingly, it is now known that the ethmoid bone in the front of the human skull also contains such tissue. So it is not too far-fetched to believe that humans could sense, tune into, the natural magnetic field around us.” Everyone except Aiden and, surprisingly, Scarlet, looked lost. Mr West ploughed on. “Ley lines are straight lines whose magnetic field is different from the Earth’s normal and dominating field. They stand out from the magnetic background of the Earth and they provide a route, a track, a pathway for those able to sense or detect them.

  “There are many theories as to the purpose of these lines. One such theory touches on a mystic element. It is said the energy of all those that tread their path is absorbed and bound within the line, producing a collective record which increases the energy output of the ley lines, making them stand out further from the background of Mother Earth’s natural magnetic transmissions, effectively more clearly defining their path and route. And their significance is profound: it is stated that ley lines are a path for the travel of souls!”

  A sudden stillness descended on the group, the wind pausing for a second and then there was a massive thunderclap. They all turned to see the monumental mass of clouds coursing across the sky towards them. It spread from one side of the horizon to the other without a break and looked like a sheer wall of black, swallowing up the blue as it rushed towards Waulud’s Bank. And then the wind resumed in a sudden, tremendous gust that whipped and buffeted them. The map was torn up from beneath Aiden and Zach, the paper shearing at the corners. Then calm descended once more, the wind lessening but the cloud mass still rolled towards them.

  Seb realised his wrist was throbbing. A shadow fell across him and he looked up. Mr Duir stood towering over him. “We need to move them back to the coaches, Greg,” he said.

  “Quite!” Mr West was up in an instant, staring at the approaching storm. “We love this English weather.” He tried to sound carefree but hastily hustled the group back down the bank towards the car park.

   

   

  Left Behind

  As they reached the bottom of the bank the clouds caught up with them and the downpour began. Seb found it difficult to walk. The wind was ferocious and sucked at his clothing, pulling him back towards the bank. He felt the pounding of the raindrops on his head and within seconds was drenched. He could hear Aiden beside him gasping and Clarissa whimpering. It was now as dark as dusk. Seb could barely see through the torrent of raindrops.

  Mr West’s voice rose above the shrieking wind, “Head for the coach lights.”

  Seb could just see the white internal lights of the coaches a short distance away. It was a welcoming sight. He thought how weird it was that the wind
was pulling him. Does wind pull? Surely it only ever pushed! He heard Clarissa scream that she couldn’t walk anymore and then begin sobbing. He turned and, through the torrent, saw Mr Duir lift her, carrying her forward ahead of the rest of them. Zach and Mr West were helping the other girls.

  Aiden stumbled and Seb felt his fingers grasp his arm, dragging him down with him. They landed with a splash in the squelchy quagmire the ground had become. Aiden let go as water seeped into Seb’s trouser legs and his hands sank to his wrists in cold mud.

  “Aiden, are you alright?” Seb called over the howling wind. He felt Aiden’s fingers grasp his arm again, gripping so tightly they hurt. He peered through the curtain of rain.

  “I can’t get up,” Aiden wailed. “The mud is too sucky!”

  Beneath the sodden fingerless glove, Seb’s palm was throbbing painfully. Blinking as the rain dripped from his eyebrows Seb could no longer see the coach lights but could see the others moving on into the murkiness.

  “Come on, Aiden.” He managed to stand but was hampered by the tight grip Aiden had on his arm. He helped him to his feet. They rocked unsteadily as the wind tugged at them and Aiden called, “Wait for us!”

  “They can’t hear us.” Seb placed his mouth right next to Aiden’s ear, “We have to move. Come on!”

  Around them the darkness was now