by Kate Gray
noises emanated everywhere as the plants, which had been laden with the little white blooms, suddenly were naught but green. “What on earth!” She looked to Macconnach.
“I think we have found the place we need to be.” They looked at one another, and then down to the ground beneath their feet.
The village men quickly climbed back on their ponies, looking as if they expected an attack at any moment. Colonel Arpan and Isabel still kept their gaze on Macconnach expectantly. “Not yet. I think that was, perhaps, a demonstration.”
“But how odd that was.” Isabel looked out over the vast expanse of greenery. “I should have thought that a creature of death would have continued in its desire to cause death.” She crouched next to the plants, fingering the buds that were now tight, and covered with the thin green shell that protects delicate petals before they open.
As she spoke, she was aware of an abrupt shift in the air surrounding the plants. She stood as the flowers opened once more, rapidly, almost too swiftly to see the process take place.
Just as quickly, they all faded, turning brown, and dropped off the plants. The village men cried out, speaking all at once to Arpan, who tried to calm them. Macconnach scooped up a handful of dead flowers, which promptly turned to dust in his hands.
“I suppose they want to leave.”
“Indeed, Major. I think that they might have expected something that falls within our understanding, and the stories we have all grown up on.”
“What one might call the ‘usual’ demon, which is always defeated by a worthy hero?”
“I see your childhood was not dissimilar to ours. Yes, we all grew up hearing stories of gods and goddesses doing battle with wicked foes. This,” he gestured at the tea plants, “is perhaps more unusual and disturbing than those tales of glory.”
“Perhaps it would be best for them to pull back and wait for us.”
“As you say, Major. Perhaps it would be.” Arpan turned and spoke to his men. They protested feebly, but finally handed over a sword to Macconnach, one of the lathi spears to Isabel, and turned to ride away with their three horses in tow.
It was decided that they would ride to the southeast, slightly off-track from whence they had come. About a mile away was a hill high enough for them to stop on and watch with Isabel’s spyglass for signs that the coming battle was done.
Arpan watched for a moment before turning back to look at the dead flowers covering the ground. Macconnach looked to Isabel.
“You can go with them.” He held an even tone, Isabel looked sharply at him.
“Not, ‘you must go with them’?” She smiled. “That is progress, I must say.”
“One last time to ask, one last chance for you to take your leave before night falls and we face whatever we face.”
“I shall face it with you.” They stared at one another. “Where do you suppose this creature resides? Underground, I suppose.”
“Your father may have my head for this.”
“Not to worry, Major. If we come out of this in one piece, I shall attest, as will Miss Alderton, that we had little choice in the matter. As we did take note, perhaps the safer place for her right now is by our side.”
“No, I cannot completely agree. She would be safer with those village men who are now riding away.” He flung out his hand in the direction which they had just ridden, and turned to look out of reflex. “Where are they?”
Arpan whirled to look as well, giving a strangled cry when he saw all the ponies and horses wandering free, their riders nowhere to be seen.
Isabel squinted into the distance, clapping a hand over her mouth. In between the light and shadows of the slowly setting sun, a glistening could be seen on the haunches of the ponies.
ॐ
Arras had left his nag tied to a tree, and was coming up behind Macconnach and the others on foot. He could see them stopped, looking at all the wretched plants around them. He spit on the tea leaves.
Coffee was his preferred beverage, in the Moorish fashion, preferably with a nice healthy dose of liqueur poured in. Tea was yet another English fashion that he refused to adopt.
He stayed low as they spoke amongst themselves, regretting that he was too far away to hear them clearly. And then, the moment he had been waiting for arrived. The larger portion of their party split off, taking all the animals with them.
He smiled and checked his rifle. Ready and loaded. All that remained was for him to wait for them pass him by, and then he would go and follow Macconnach. He concealed himself thoroughly, and waited, counting silently.
Some minutes later, he had heard nothing of a large party riding by, in spite of having seen them headed directly for him. Arras gingerly withdrew from his hide, and checked.
Perhaps they had changed direction? No. He stood up, behind an outcropping, and watched as all the horses and ponies trotted around aimlessly. He felt his mouth go dry. One of the ponies saw him, and came close, trembling uncontrollably. It was covered in blood.
ॐ
“Where did they go?” Arpan cried out again, and began to run toward the horses. Macconnach caught him up quickly, and held him back.
“We must not. The only way to leave now is to see this to its end. We must destroy this entity in order to live.” He was grim, and held tightly onto the sword he’d been given. Isabel paled.
“Do you mean to say that we have trapped ourselves in the spider’s web? We were lured here?”
“I’m afraid so. I should have anticipated such wickedness.”
The three of them turned to look at one another, trying to fend off despair. Isabel felt a current of fear coursing through her, and reached down to pluck a handful of leaves.
“You know, it’s the oddest thing. I would have sworn to it that this whole hillside was bare when I was looking at it yesterday. I suppose I just thought I’d been tricked by the light, but I am almost certain there were no plants….” She crushed the leaves between her fingers, smelling them as she did.
The scent was that of falseness, as though created by someone who had gotten a whiff of tea once, from a great distance. “They are an illusion of some kind. They are not real.”
“Part of the spider’s web, I’d imagine.” Once again, they felt the presence of a change in the air, as if something was watching and smiling upon them maliciously.
The many thousands of tea plants burst into flame all around them, extinguishing just as instantly. It left behind nothing but grassy hillside. It was as though nothing else had ever grown there.
ॐ
As Macconnach looked down at the grass, he noticed that it was of a rough variety, the kind that would only grow in the most barren soils. Other than that, there was no life. No insects, no ants, not even a small snake slithering by.
Even the birds in the air seemed to fly only on the edges of the area in which they now stood. Macconnach wanted to knock himself in the head for his stupidity. They had been drawn into this trap, with no awareness, and no resistance.
It was as though his powers had been blunted somehow, long enough to miss any warning signals that the danger was under their feet.
“Major, I should think we have only an hour or more until nightfall. May we assume that any attack will wait until that moment?” Isabel looked pale behind the firm set of her jaw.
“I’ve no true idea, Miss Alderton. Perhaps we ought to take a few moments to think, and rest. Maybe partake of something to eat.”
“We all would benefit from partaking. Yourself included. I cannot think that you would do better without sustenance.” They looked over at Arpan, who had taken to praying, silently; his eyes closed. “What a tragedy for their village. If only we had known.” She blinked away tears.
“The fault is mine alone. I should have known.”
“How were you to know? Pardon me for saying so; I think that to be a lot of rot.”
“You needn’t patronize me.”
“Oh, good lord. Major Macconnach, you do have a mercurial t
emperament. For your own sake, and for ours, please spare us self-pity, and ready for battle.” She took hold of his jacket lapels, and shook him gently but firmly.
It was a needed measure. At the hour of confrontation, doubt had no place, and would only serve the enemy. He looked down at her, as she stared earnestly into his eyes.
Arpan had finished his prayers and was about to join them. He coughed self-consciously and turned away, wishing that he could smile. Any joy of the moment was wiped away by uncertainty and fear.
“Promise me one thing, then.”
“Name it and I shall but endeavour to see it done.”
“If the moment comes, and it may; in order to destroy our foe I may face my own death. You must promise to flee, and live.”
“My will may break at such a moment. I do not know that I wish to continue in quite the manner that I have, much less without such a person as yourself.” An awkward silence flooded the air between them.
“I…that is to say, bother.” The collar of his shirt felt tight. He looked into her face, which was still pale and freckled, her eyes burning with fervor, her mouth set becomingly.
All at once, Macconnach understood why her father had let her go with them. He saw in her a strength that had survived repeated attempts to be tamed and turned into demure femininity. Isabel would be wasted on most men.
She needed an equal. Abington had hoped to set her free by finding her that equal. Should he be insulted that he had been selected for that end? That everything Abington was set to give him might be pinned to
