Dark Winter (34 page)

Clasping the still frozen Beth, and 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 seemed 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.”

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 friend. Be a support, 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.