Paradise Island (21 page)

He picked up the map and folded it carefully so that it could fit into his pocket. Reluctantly he stepped over the line of the runes, not looking back, for if he did he knew he would go no further, and strode into the bush that would lead to the cave and either end this cataclysm, or his own life.

She was in a warm cocoon, bonelessly content, sated, drifting in a gratified state of being. She yawned, stretched, a smile tugged the corner of her mouth as she felt the parts of her body that were so delightfully used by Gregory. Her body was wonderfully relaxed, warming to the idea of more of the same treatment until she remembered her dream. She sat bolt upright with a gasp and held a shaking hand to her chest, feeling a bitter cold creep into her insides.

Jack Cutlass was heading for her village and everyone in it; his intent, to main, kill and destroy. Somehow she had connected with Dalia while she had slept and she had learnt of Jack's despicable goal to have everyone killed — slaughtered — in his fight for vengeance against them all. Her friends, everyone Jack considered rightfully his on the island were all in danger. Claire had felt the horror. Knew it was caused by Jack Cutlass. She'd known the feel of Jack Cutlass when he'd kidnapped her before Estelle had found her. By the message in her dream, Dalia was barely hanging on keeping their location hidden and safe by using her gift. She couldn't possibly go on much longer and when she unable to hide their village, Jack would attack.

Gregory had a plan to save them. He was going to help her. He'd promised.

There was nothing here but the fire that had long ago burnt out into a pile of blackened coals. The sun was high in the sky. But no Gregory. She dressed quickly, waiting for Gregory to come back. He couldn't be too far away. He would be waiting for her to wake so that they could attack Jack Cutlass. But, why would he let her sleep if he knew the urgency of her situation?

He had proclaimed that they would get Cutlass together, fight together to protect Paradise and her friends. But the clearing was very quiet. There was only the faint call of birdsong and the leaves that rustled in a slight breeze.

“Gregory,” she called. Her voice seemed to be absorbed by the trees and she knew it had not traveled far. She called again, leaving no doubt by the tone of her voice of her building urgency.

She ran to the edge of the clearing, trying to see through the thick greenery, until she had gone a full circle, calling his name. A prickly, uncomfortable feeling caused a lump in her gut.

She found her satchel, opened it and scattered the contents over the ground. The map was missing. She sat back on her haunches. He'd taken the map and had left her here after he had promised that he would help her end Jack's reign.

She had given her body to him, had been overtaken by passion. She had given him all that he had asked with the deepest faith. She had given him the night. Had awakened to him. Had given him her absolute trust. She had given him her heart.

And now he was gone.

She had listened to his tender words, and worse, had believed them. What a fool she had been to have handed herself over to him. It was against everything she had learnt about men. He had leveled all the rules she had erected to protect herself and now she found herself kneeling in a soft grassy patch trying to still her spinning mind and her racing heart, feeling what she had gone out of her way
not
to endure.

Pain at the hands of men.

It seemed she had not yet learned her lesson.

She swiped the tears from her cheeks, letting the betrayal, the hurt burn into a searing anger. She clenched her teeth, narrowed her eyes and swallowed the lump. It was a lesson learned. A hard lesson, but that's all it was. A lesson that taught her that she was right in the first place.

A hard life's lesson.

She staggered to her feet, blinking back more tears that threatened to spill. She closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, feeding off the reckless anger that welled inside. When she opened her eyes, they were clear and she was steady on her feet.

She bent, picked her belt off the ground, replaced her sword in its sheath and her satchel at her hip. Estelle strode to the circle of runes and kicked each and every one in all directions as far as she could, destroying the circle that had held them both safe for the night. There was no room for safety now, only revenge.

Estelle tipped her head back and yelled, “Come on, old woman. You know I'm here. I need you. Now! There's no hiding me anymore. Come to me,” she yelled. Anger and impatience had her stalking the patch, her hand grasping the handle of her sword.

“You look like you want to fight.”

Estelle swung to face the old woman merging from the shadows of the trees. She stalked to her. “Tell me what's going on. I want to hear the whole truth this time. No rhymes, no riddles, just the truth.”

The woman tutted and shook her head. “Such a headstrong woman. Quick to anger without knowing the full story.” She walked to the now dead fire and waved her hand above it. In an instant the flames flickered to life and was crackling warmly. Soon she had the pot boiling with a perfumed brew. She poured two cups and handed one to Estelle.

“Sit. Drink. And we shall talk.” She sat on a rock with a sigh and sipped from her cup.

Estelle watched her for a while and when she didn't stir again, decided that to do as the old woman asked would be the only way she would get any information out of her. Estelle took her place on the opposite side of the fire. She smelt the brew and for once didn't recoil from the fragrance. She carefully sipped and was happily surprised when the cup held no more than a pleasant tasting tea.

“That is good. You are opening to reason,” the old woman said.

“How did you get your powers,” Estelle asked.

A ghost of a smile flittered on her wrinkled mouth. “The powers one receives from a life of need. Such is the way of magic. A blessing and a curse.” She nodded her head. “Like you, I needed to survive and I found a way in which I could. The rest — practice. It's not so hard once you get the knack.”

“What happened to you?” Estelle asked.

The old woman sighed. “Ambition. Power. Life beyond death. I was sold and bought for all of it by someone I thought could not harm me. I was wrong.”

“Tell me who did this to you.”

The woman shook her head. “Amor Fati does not bend to your wishes, you bend to it.”

“I don't believe in this Amor Fati. Look what it did to you,” Estelle said.

“Love didn't do this to me. Jack Cutlass did.” The old woman stabbed her with a stare so direct that Estelle felt it penetrate with a wince.

“But, how? You can protect us from Jack. How come you couldn't protect yourself?”

“Because he tricked me. I was not always the woman you see before you. Then, I didn't know how cold and ruthless he could be. I thought we were in love, or at least I was with him. But in the face of what he sold me for, my love didn't stand a chance. He didn't care, he used me for what he could get. I didn't know how ambitious, how hungry Jack was for power, and the power he was offered was the ultimate power of a god. How could he refuse?”

Estelle looked into her half emptied cup of tea. “They are tarred with the same brush.”

“You are speaking of your man? I tell you he is nothing like Jack Cutlass. You have seen into his soul. You cannot believe what you are saying.”

“I believe in the proof. He left me after … last night. He promised he would stay and fight Cutlass with me. He knows everything I hold dear, everything I have fought for is in danger, and even promising me all this, he has left me. He is exactly like Cutlass,” Estelle said, feeling the hot prickle of tears behind her eyelids once again.

“Those are words of momentary anger. You know this man keeps his promises and it is this promise that had him leave you this morning. The good in his heart, the love he has for you, has propelled him to face the danger alone.”

“The prize of obtaining his goal is what he wants to face,” Estelle said.

“You know that is not true. I see the ties that bind you together even as we speak. You are angry and hurt because you love him and that is the true meaning of Amor Fati. The fates of love, both good and bad. It is the strongest type of love, the kind that will have you willing to lose your life for the other. The only love that can defeat a god is what leads him this morning. He would willingly sacrifice himself in the face of great danger so that you may be safe.”

“It was not love. Just lust. Clear physical infatuation,” Estelle said.

The old woman snorted. “It was good, wasn't it? The best? The kind of lovemaking that would have him gladly in your bed every night for the rest of your life?” She nodded, when Estelle was lost for words and cackled. “I am not too old to remember what it can be like. You should grab him with both hands.”

“I would like to right now. Preferably around his neck,” Estelle mumbled.

The old woman cackled. “Only love can hurt so much. It is a double edged sword, is it not?”

Estelle dropped her gaze to the ground. She could not believe she in love with Gregory, but the witch may be her only way to save her home, and her father. Estelle clenched her teeth. She would need to tell her anything to make her believe she accepted her word as truth. She would leave the old woman with no doubt that she trusted what she said to get her to take her to Gregory. “Take me to him. Take me so that he can tell me face to face how he feels.”

The old woman weighed her up with a lengthy stare. Estelle tilted her chin, keeping her attention riveted on her. “There is something you need to know. You have to protect Gregory from the Evil One. This god, this entity, feeds on souls to live in this world.”

Estelle shivered, remembering how it tried to suck her in Jack's mind. “Has it taken Jack's soul?”

The woman's voice was deadpan. “Jack Cutlass had no soul to begin. There was nothing here but an empty vessel for it to use. And use Jack it has.”

“Is that what has happened to my father? Has this god eaten his soul?” Estelle asked quietly.

“Jack sold your father's soul, acting as he had every right to do so. The god has accepted it in trade for Jack to use its power. To defeat Jack will mean that you will have to fight the god which has imprisoned more souls than your father. If I only knew how to release those poor souls, I would have done so many years ago, but instead I learned that my powers alone cannot defeat the god. It is too strong, but together, you and Gregory have a chance.”

“You are stronger than I,” Estelle said.

“But it is the love you share, you and your man, that the spirit does not understand. That is its downfall. It thrives on misery, power, ambition, the dark sides of human emotion. It does not have the capacity to know love and that it the thing that it seeks to destroy the most. I have no love. I have never really known it. But the two of you … I can see it bind your lives into eternity.” The old woman shook her head. “If you could see, it is something to behold.”

“Then I cannot stand by and let Gregory fight this god by himself. I cannot stand by and let this thing devour his soul. You have to take me to him so that we can fight, together,” Estelle said.

The hurt that Gregory left would not be erased, her anger simmered. If only she could make the woman believe that she still loved Gregory then she might have a chance. She ignored the quick slice of pain that carved into her heart at the thought that she didn't love Gregory. It would not do to immerse herself in the pain. She told herself it was not love, it was the sham of his words, his actions, that had her hurting so badly. And he would pay for that. “Please, you have to understand how I feel.” That, at least, was the truth.

The old woman shook her head. “It is risky. Dangerous. You are so angry now. There is a real chance that you both will not survive. I cannot have you both killed. There will no other chances.”

Estelle pressed. “I need to get to him. There will be no chance if the god takes Gregory's soul. You said that together we have a chance, but apart then there is no way this thing can be defeated. And I will not get my father, or Gregory, back ever again. I could not live if that happened.”

Estelle rose and sat next to the old woman, ignoring the stale smell that emanated from the woman's clothes. “You do have power. You have the power to keep us together, you have the power to give us a chance to defeat this god, and to rid the world of Jack Cutlass and his evil deeds. That alone is power indeed.” She placed her hand over the top of the old woman's as she rested it in her lap. Despite the aged, pockmarked skin, her hand felt warm, soft and smooth beneath her touch and Estelle was momentarily surprised. “Please. Can you help me? Help Gregory? Take us both to where the god is. Give us a chance to save the world. To save ourselves. You are my only hope.”

The old woman stared into the flames. “You are very good with words.”

“As I am with a sword,” Estelle said. She leant towards the old woman. “If we are the only ones that can do this, you need to give us a helping hand.”

The old woman sidled a quick glance at her and nodded. Her face was set into grim lines and there was a seriousness behind her eyes that Estelle had not noticed before. “If this is the way of the fates, so be it.”

She muttered some unintelligible words, circled her hand through the air above them and Estelle was instantly in the middle of a windstorm so great she had to close her eyes against the force of it. She felt as though she had no body, that there was no earth below or above her, that she was surrounded by empty space. Then her feet hit solid ground and she stumbled, hitting hard with her hands and knees.

She opened her eyes. The stony earth bit into her palms. She glanced around. She was no longer in the bush, the terrain was mountainous and rocky. Sparse trees grew intermittently between crevices, but the whole landscape was completely alien to the lush surrounding she had just been in. She rose despite her shaky legs. Stones cracked underfoot. Other than that, an eerie silence created a void around her. Amazingly, she had never seen this side of the island. She wondered what magic had kept it hidden.