by G R Jordan
“Oh, she’s a witch alright, one of the continued line of Dillingham witches, as I found out from Miss Goodritch’s records. But one who has been schooled in subterfuge. I’m amazed Havers didn’t see it.”
“Dammit, Indy, just say it straight.”
“I thought he did, Mr Kirkgordon,” interrupted Wilson. “Major Havers did say you were a little slow.”
Austerley smiled and wallowed in having the room at his command and Kirkgordon cut down to size.
“Your Tania,” Austerley pronounced, “is a witch, and of quite a standard too. But she’s being played by Farthington.”
“Zmey Gorynych?” said a stunned Wilson.
“Who’s Zemmy Gorynitch?” said a bemused Miss Goodritch.
“Okay, from the top then,” a proud Austerley continued. “Zmey Gorynych is a three-headed dragon, known as Farthington in his human form, and he’s also the bastard that ripped my foot off.”
“Always the foot,” moaned Kirkgordon.
“Yes, my foot. I can’t walk. I need a babysitter. I’ve been wheeled about by Brown Owl over there!” Austerley pointed to Miss Goodritch. “I faced up to a demon and what did I get? Nightmares and a missing foot. So forgive me, Churchy, if I am somewhat pissed off at the world at the moment. But I am missing my foot.” Tears welled up in Austerley’s eyes. “It might be a flaming joke to you but I am a cripple. I can’t even get to the shops without crutches. I can’t be hauled around by the collar anymore like you used to, dragging my butt out of trouble. Now I’m dependant on someone actually carrying me. Shit, Churchy, I want my foot back!”
“Mind your language in front of the child!” ordered Wilson.
“Shove it up your jacksie, newbie. It’s your kind that got me into this crappy state.” Austerley buried his head in his hands and started to weep bitterly. Father Jonah stood and walked across the silent room, put his arms around Austerley and just held him.
Well, thought Kirkgordon, that didn’t go as planned. “Let’s take a few moments,” he suggested, and he started to wave everyone out of the room. In a few moments, Kirkgordon was left standing looking at Austerley cradled like a baby in the priest’s arms. His crying continued, accompanied by great sniffs. During the whole time, Father Jonah said nothing.
“Sorry, Indy,” muttered Kirkgordon. “I’m sorry I ever let you go to that graveyard up at Gainsborough. I’m sorry you ever came out of the asylum. I’m just sorry. You didn’t deserve to lose the foot. I’m sorry.”
“I know,” Austerley mumbled. “You shouldn’t have had to try and kill me. It was my fault. All of it. I know my curiosity, the trouble it causes. But I love it, the mystery, the power. Dammit, Churchy, it’s how I’m made.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“But it’s my foot!”
Kirkgordon watched Austerley double over in tears again. He felt hollow inside. He felt responsible. Always trying to save everyone, that’s what Alana had said.
“You’re not the only one with a curse,” Kirkgordon mumbled quietly at Austerley as he left the room.
Only a Foot
Okay, huddle up everyone, it’s time to make a plan.” Kirkgordon had reconvened his meeting in the lounge and this time he was determined to leave with a plan of action. “Austerley, lay down the situation for us as you see it. Everyone else shut up. We need to get moving soon, so we can’t be doing with interruptions.” Austerley nodded and Kirkgordon’s stare swept around the room to declare that any disobedience would be swiftly dealt with.
“Right then. Sorry for earlier,” said Austerley. “As I said before, this is all subterfuge. Dillingham is still where it always has been. The GPS signal told me so. The fire in the sky is an illusion. Something is protecting the town from the outside world, but I don’t know what. If there were no shield or blockage then Havers’ people would be here by now.
“The ghosts are not an illusion but neither are they spirits of the dead. Rather, they have been summoned by someone, namely Tania, the care home worker, who is also a witch. She comes from a long line of witches, according to Miss Goodritch’s museum records, and is very powerful, especially for one so young. However, I understand her magic now and there are several defences I can use against it.
“I realized her deception when I saw the drawings at the museum. The ghosts, including Captain Smith, look exactly like those drawings, but they weren’t created until two hundred years after the event. There should be differences between the drawings and the real thing, but there aren’t any differences with our ghosts. Also, they show no surprise at modern technology, none at all. Therefore, they must have been conjured from a modern mind. The creatures are another matter. They seem to have been created by fusing different animals together. They are real and can be struck without requiring spiritual weapons.”
“They are Tania’s creations as well,” interrupted Kirkgordon. “I saw her little zoo at the care home. It’s destroyed now. There was a tiny accident with an arrow causing a vortex.”
“You let go a vortex arrow in a confined space? Are you mad? The instruction manual specifically says not to,” said Father Jonah, jumping to his feet.
“What instruction manual?” asked Kirkgordon.
“I told you to look inside the quiver. It’s all there, everything you needed for your bow.” Father Jonah was indignant.
“Where?” Kirkgordon was bemused.
The priest walked over to Kirkgordon’s quiver and pulled out a small piece of paper stuck on the inside.
“That’s it? Those are my instructions? No disrespect to you, Father, but that is totally inadequate.”
The priest shook the paper in his hand and before everyone’s eyes it swelled into a manual of at least a hundred pages. Handing the book to Kirkgordon, the priest sat down, his face thunderous.
“I’ll continue then,” said Austerley. “I believe Farthington engaged Tania’s services in order to lure Havers, Kirkgordon and myself here. His intention was to bring our colleague Calandra here too but he miscalculated, and with things already in motion, he ran with what he had. He also didn’t appreciate Father Jonah’s powers. The sanctuary meant that we were safe from him. Since then, he has been waiting for our move. He has Havers and I suspect he will call our bluff. I think he will flaunt Havers in front of us and declare that he will kill him unless we come forward.”
“Then you can stay here and I will go,” said Wilson.
“He’s banking on Churchy there charging to the rescue. Unlike Havers, Kirkgordon will never leave someone behind,” said Austerley.
“He’s right, Wilson,” said Kirkgordon. “Havers may kill me himself for it but we will rescue him. But not before Indy here levels the playing field. Showtime, Indy. Let’s see what you’ve got from Miss Goodritch’s shopping trip.”
Austerley stood up on his good leg and Kirkgordon moved in beside him to act as a crutch. At Austerley’s instruction, Miss Goodritch brought in a bowl, some pots, some cups and a small table. Nefol brought in the items Miss Goodritch had collected and placed them on the table.
“I am going to do three things now,” said Austerley. “Number one, I will ascertain what is causing the shielding of Dillingham and whether we can destroy it. Two, I will try to find Havers. And three, I will eliminate all the ghosts and Captain Smith.”
When he’s not in a trance, drugged or in a bad mood, he’s devastatingly good at what he does, thought Kirkgordon. Which is just as well, because without Havers, I really need pointing in the right direction.
Austerley began mixing items. At a further request, Nefol brought in a small gas burner, and the assembled gathering watched Austerley boil and mix his way through many colourful liquids. The smells emitted by the vessels were mostly repulsive, but there was one that smelt like strawberries. Soon, Austerley glanced up at his watchers to indicate that he was ready.
Pouring one mixture into the bowl, he chanted words that made no sense to Kirkgordon and that drew a shaking head from Father Jonah. Undeterred, Austerley drew his hands
back and forward across the bowl.
“There’s nothing evil in these chants, Miss Goodritch. I am merely drawing the energy from around us to channel it,” Austerley explained.
“And you know not what you draw it from. Do not fool yourself, Mr Austerley,” warned the priest. Austerley rolled his eyes and continued chanting. In the bowl, a view of the sea was materializing. Kirkgordon could see a post with a cage swinging from it.
“That’s Gibbet Point,” exclaimed Miss Goodritch.
“Yes,” said Austerley, “and that’s his device. It’s a mystical generator. I can’t attack it from here but it looks unprotected, merely hidden by its very normality. I venture that’s not the post that was there last year.”
“There was no post last year,” said Miss Goodritch. “The council put that up a few months ago.”
“Then it needs to be taken down,” stated Kirkgordon. “Good. Right, Austerley, find Havers.”
Austerley returned to mixing his ingredients. Wilson, still weak from his beating from the bear, took a seat. Austerley created several more mixtures, poured them into the bowl and stirred the water. The bowl produced a view of the care home. Austerley mumbled some more words and the picture zoomed down several corridors before arriving in front of a bed. The picture was a close up of Havers’ face. It was pale and going grey. He seemed to be resting in peace.
“Is he dead?” asked Kirkgordon.
“No. If he was I wouldn’t be able to find him.”
“Stop,” shouted the priest, “There’s something else!”
Before anyone could move, a dragon’s head appeared in the water. It burst out of the bowl on an elongated neck and searched wildly around the room. Finding Austerley, it fixed its gaze on him.
“Austerley, time to die!” The dragon’s head drew back as it took in a breath and emitted a stream of fire at Austerley. A stunned Austerley was transfixed as the fire raged towards him. Suddenly it stopped, right in front of his face, and disappeared in an instant. Looking to the bowl, Austerley saw it had been upturned. It rested on the table with the priest’s hand over it.
“I wish you wouldn’t mess with these forces,” said Father Jonah sternly.
After a moment’s silence, Kirkgordon spoke up. “So he’s in the care home. Time to undo Tania’s mischief.”
“Don’t destroy her,” urged the priest. “Make sure there is time for redemption, Mr Austerley. We all need redemption.”
Austerley glowered at the priest and looked at Kirkgordon, who nodded and turned to Nefol, asking her to accompany him. Together they walked down the hall of the house to a bedroom. Nefol spoke a few words and opened the door. Lying on the bed inside, with her hands tied behind her back and her ankles tied together, was Tania. Her mouth was gagged with tape. She looked directly at Kirkgordon as he entered.
“I’m going to take the tape off,” said Kirkgordon. “Listen, if I hear you say anything, any chants or words other than to speak in reply to my answers, I will knock you out again and you will be gagged. Then Austerley will have to reach inside your brain for the answers. It’s not pleasant because he’s not that good at it. Understand me?”
Tania nodded. She was wrapped in a sheet but her curves were still evident. Kirkgordon tried to focus on the task in hand, but her body was so distracting. At times, he wished he was blind to these womanly charms that drew him in so easily. Nefol was a good foil to his reactions, though. He thought having a youngster in the room was a stronger deterrent than his own mother. He ripped the tape off Tania’s mouth.
“I see you still like to look,” mocked Tania. “Ditch the kid and you can still have me!”
Kirkgordon struck her with the back of his hand. “Enough. You are a witch. A highly sexual one, but still a witch. You only want to take from me, not to give. I have a woman and you are not her.” It was like a mantra, Kirkgordon thought, and despite having made it up on the spot, he thought it was pretty good. But there was safety in numbers.
He swept an arm under her, picking her up. Halfway through the manoeuvre, she parted her legs, trying to trap him, but he was wise to it. Without showing any emotion, he nodded towards the door. Nefol opened it and Kirkgordon carried Tania to the front room.
Placing her in the centre of the room, Kirkgordon withdrew to the edge. He was somewhat compromised in the matter of Tania and he didn’t trust himself. Austerley, now returned to the couch, went down on his knees and crept up on Tania.
“You look old. Very old.” Tania laughed, drawing a scowl from Austerley.
“Steeped in it, aren’t you?” Austerley said. “Steeped. Well, I know how you do it. I know it came from your grandmother who taught you how to gain your powers. It’s all written down. Joined the coven, did you? Was your father’s life worth the prize?”
“Dear God!” exclaimed Miss Goodritch.
Father Jonah closed his eyes, his lips giving up a silent prayer.
“Well, now we’ll end it.” Austerley laid his hands upon Tania. The witch shook violently as Austerley spoke words no one understood. The room began to shake, and green gas rushed into the room and into Tania’s eyes, ears, nostrils. She screamed as the gas poured into her mouth, making her choke and spit.
As the gas continued to return, Austerley began to change. His skin became less wrinkled, and he felt his body regaining its mid-life vigour, his joints freeing.
“It is done,” cried Father Jonah. “It is done.”
Tania was coughing uncontrollably now and Father Jonah took her in his arms, cradling her. “Peace, child, peace. It has been put right. He has put back all you have done wrong. Relax now, be at peace. Ask and you shall receive forgiveness. You can start again, throw off your past. You have a second chance, Tania. He whom you called an enemy is now your friend. He will make you whole.”
Tania began to cry, pouring out her tiredness and hurt. She looked into the priest’s eyes, asking if it was true. Father Jonah nodded and began to smile. But then Tania’s mouth let go an ear-piercing scream.
“No!” yelled the priest. “No!”
“An eye for an eye, is it not, Father?” shouted Austerley.
Kirkgordon was confused until he saw Tania’s foot. Her toes were shrinking. One by one they were disappearing into thin air. Meanwhile, Austerley’s stump was growing. The joint was renewing and a foot was beginning to grow.
Kirkgordon raced to Austerley and tried to pull him away from Tania. Austerley’s face was wild and his skin red with pumping blood. A strength not born from human flesh held Austerley to Tania’s body and she continued to scream.
“Yes, yes. Feel my pain!” yelled Austerley.
Miss Goodritch had joined Kirkgordon in pulling at Austerley’s arm but nothing could move him. Father Jonah laid a hand on Kirkgordon and cried out for intervention, for one who was good to interrupt this madness. Kirkgordon felt a power surge in his arms and he ripped away Austerley’s grip, throwing him onto the sofa.
The room fell silent except for Tania’s tears. Father Jonah stood up and walked calmly over to Austerley. Austerley’s face was streaked with tears and he looked like a broken man.
“I told you,” Father Jonah said, pointing at Austerley. “Don’t mess with these things. But you don’t listen, you indulge. And now that foot shall be a curse to you, worse than when it was missing. You have passed on your pain instead of sharing it to be healed. This is anger, this is rage, this is domination and wrath. And you may have destroyed her, but you will also destroy yourself!”
Consequences
Kirkgordon breathed deeply. This was all getting too fraught for him. For someone who had limited understanding of the occult, of all this weirdness, he felt ill-equipped to be leading the charge to rescue Havers. Knowing that Havers would not permit a rescue if the circumstances were reversed, would choose instead just to let Kirkgordon go, wasn’t great encouragement either. But then again, wasn’t that the point? Havers was wrong in his professional view. The individual did matter, they mattered a lot.
>
And then there was Austerley. Just when you thought he had turned a corner, grumbling but on message, he goes and does all this. Bloody hell. The priest had been doing well with Tania, in fact she might even have been ready to accept redemption. But now?
In his time working protection, Kirkgordon had seen many a bloody sight. Bits blown off people, limbs lost, shots taken, but nothing was like watching someone’s foot disappearing. Left with nothing but a bloody stump, Tania had gone wild, calling out all sorts of blasphemies. Kirkgordon had been forced to use his nerve pinch to silence her. And as for Austerley… You would have thought he would be happy, with a spring to his step, but no. He hadn’t banked on Tania’s foot being smaller. With a size twelve on one foot and a size three on the other, he was limping badly, constantly tilted to one side. Another three weeks and he would have had a prosthetic. Stupid arse.
Father Jonah appeared at his side. In his hands were two cups of coffee, one black and steaming, the other extremely milky.
“I thought you weren’t into coffee,” said Kirkgordon.
“I’m not. But you looked like you needed one and a bit of company.”
“Cheers. Did I do the right thing in there?”
“Don’t dwell on it. You can’t second guess with people. Austerley made his own decision, which he was going to do whatever you decided. He ruined himself, Mr Kirkgordon. We can’t save everyone. In fact, we can save no one.”
“Tania’s a gorgeous girl. Truly stunning.”
“On the outside, yes. But she’s black inside. You don’t play with the darkness and remain untouched. Ask Mr Austerley. Or Major Havers.”
“What do you mean?”
“Clinical, cold, exacting. No trust in people, just a desire for outcomes. I still hold out hope there, though.”
“Your daughter was a great help, she’s very resourceful. She acts older than her years.”
“Yes, indeed, but then again that’s Major Havers’ doing.” Kirkgordon threw a questioning glance but the priest refused to bite. “Be careful when you engage Farthington. Austerley will look to kill, for there’s as much anger in him as there is in the dragon. Take care of your people. Remember, have a little faith. You are where you are needed. And read the arrows’ instructions! Some of them are pretty deadly.”
