B00JX4CVBU EBOK (8 page)

‘Wow,’ said Turner. He smiled at Ember. ‘Fire, right?’

Ember pulled her hair back around her ear. ‘You got it.’

‘Try me,’ said Skye.

‘Well, your names do kind of give it away,’ said Turner. ‘You’re air.’ He turned to Brooke. ‘And you’d have to be water.’

‘So clever,’ said Brooke. Turner noticed the sharp look her sisters gave her.

Turner continued, ‘And that leaves …’

‘Spirit and earth,’ said Ember.

‘Celeste would have to be spirit, and that leaves Chloe, is it? She has to be earth. So, you have powers based on those elements?’

Turner watched open mouthed as his glass of water frosted over. Lines of tiny icicles formed like tiny branches over the outside. The water in the glass turned to ice in an instant. After what he had seen at the park and last night’s happenings, this shouldn’t have surprised him, but Turner was nonetheless awed at the seemingly casual enchantment.

‘And for her next trick …’ said Skye.

Brooke cocked her head. ‘I was just giving him an example.’

‘Be thankful she didn’t make your nose gush like a fire hose,’ said Skye.

Brooke’s grin was all teeth. ‘I only did that once, Skye. You have to let it go.’

Celeste rose from the table. ‘Enough, you two. Although it is nice to hear the old Skye again,’ she said smiling at her sister. ‘I’m getting a cup of tea. Anyone else want one?’

Four hands were raised. ‘I’ll help you, Celeste,’ said Skye.

After the two had left the room Turner said, ‘Another question. If you’re not witches, what is a Vordene? Are you gods, or aliens or something?’

Neither Brooke nor Ember smiled. ‘We were born from other Vordene women,’ said Ember, ‘who were also born of Vordene women and so on, back through time. There’s never a man involved in our births, so some would consider us goddesses—like the old Greek gods.’

‘Better than gods,’ said a new voice.

‘Turner,’ said Ember, ‘this is Chloe. Chloe, this is Turner.’

‘So you do have a name,’ said Chloe as she bent to give Turner an awkward hug. ‘Welcome, Mr Ring.’

‘How’s Aunt Lani?’ said Brooke.

Chloe sat down and poured herself a glass of milk. ‘I’ve done all I can with my healing. She woke before. A bit groggy, but I think she’s going to be alright. She’s a toughie. Give her a couple of hours more sleep before going out, OK?’

‘We were just telling Turner about the history of the Vordene, Chloe,’ said Ember.

‘Oh yeah, like Ember said, some would consider us god-like, but gods are really human constructs; whereas, we are more than that. We are the Earth itself.’

Turner frowned. The Earth itself? He was confused. He was still trying to get his head around the whole ‘no male was used in the making of this Vordene’ thing.

Chloe continued. ‘There are Vordene all over the world. At least fifty groups of sisters in Britain alone. We fight the evilness which threatens to take over the Earth. We are the Earth’s guardians.’

‘So dramatic,’ said Brooke, rolling her eyes.

‘Or,’ continued Chloe, ‘to put it another way, we are the Earth protecting itself. Elemental forces in human form created to fight the evil from the Grimshade.’

‘Grimshade?’ Turner asked around a mouthful of toast.

‘Sort of like Hell,’ said Ember. ‘It’s where those nasties came from last night.’

Celeste and Skye returned with a tray of cups of tea. ‘Have you told him about the Ring yet?’ asked Celeste, holding the tray as Skye gave everyone a cup.

‘Not yet,’ said Ember. ‘Hmm, OK Turner, picture that pentagram again, but this time with a circle around it. That’s the Ring: the protective ring which a Vordene needs to guard it and keep it safe, especially in battle. Usually it’s a spirit animal—a force from nature that presents itself to a Vordene in animal form, like a cat, a snake or a bird.’

‘Or a stallion,’ said Brooke quietly.

Turner’s head was swimming with all this new information, but there was one last thing he needed to know. ‘So I am your Ring? Skye called me that a couple of times. I’m not a spirit animal, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

Celeste took a sip of tea, then said, ‘It seems that some Vordenes are given a human Ring. I don’t know why. We only just found out ourselves. But yes, we think you are our Ring. You’re here to fight with us, to use your powers to protect us.’

Turner didn’t like the sound of all this magic and fighting. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but … is this Ring position permanent? Do I get a say in whether I take it on, or not? Because really, I don’t think I’m your guy. Maybe … maybe you should wait for the spirit animal?’

Turner was not prepared for the effect his words would have. There was silence around the table. Skye and Chloe looked at the table, frowning. Ember looked away angrily.

Brooke was the first to speak, ‘Maybe he’s right. He doesn’t belong here.’

Celeste held up a hand. ‘Brooke.’ And, then addressing Turner, she said quietly, ‘how about you and I take a walk outside, Turner. I’ll show you the well.’

Turner looked around at the other girls, none of whom would look at him. ‘Yes,’ he said quickly, ‘that sounds wonderful.’ Bloody wonderful.

*

Celeste and Turner walked down a few stone steps to a pebbly path. For a while neither said anything. The early morning bird calls and the crunch of the gravel underfoot the only sounds. Turner looked around at the manor gardens. The lawns were short and green, the bushes trimmed into careful topiaries. It all seemed well kept. Turner wondered who looked after the gardens, but imagined the answer would probably involve gnomes or fairies, so left the question unasked. Past a small fountain another path lead through a gap in an ivy covered stone wall, beyond which stood a small, white, stone building, its roof high-pitched and slated.

Celeste noticed where Turner was looking. ‘The chapel. That’s where Aunt Lani spends most of her time. Where she is now. We were very lucky not to have lost her.’

‘Can I ask you a personal question, Celeste?’

Celeste looked up at Turner. ‘Ask.’

‘How old are you? I mean … I just want to know whether I’m speaking to a three hundred year old wise woman, or a …’

One corner of Celeste’s mouth turned up. ‘I’m twenty-five, Chloe and Brooke are twenty-four, Skye twenty-two, and Ember is twenty-one.’ 

Turner looked back at the sunroom. ‘Phew, that’s a relief.’

‘That’s not to say with the right conditions you couldn’t have a Vordene sister who was one hundred and fifty, or so.’

‘Conditions? What conditions?’

‘Ah,’ said Celeste, ‘that’s what I want to talk to you about. I want you to try to see the big picture. It’s all about fighting and protection. We Vordene are soldiers really. Soldiers for the Earth. Sounds silly when I say it like that, but we think from the dawn of time Mother Earth has fought a war against rot, against decay, disease and evil. An evilness which, if not held in check, would grow like a cancer.’ She spread her arms. ‘It would spread across the world and destroy everything that is light, free and flowing. And if the war were lost, all life would be turned black, rotten and dead.’

‘So those hell creatures last night …’

‘The Scathers. Yes, they are the carriers. The spreaders of death. They tend to rise up occasionally like a volcano. Other times they are summoned, like last night with that horrible Skorn woman.’

‘I knew there was something wrong with her. Those eyes. Ugh. But the Scorchers?’

‘Scathers.’

‘Yeah. Scathers. How come no one knows about them? If they’ve been around since the dawn of time or whatever, why aren’t they well known?’

‘Scathers have a built in fell it seems. Whenever people see Scathers, they see something that makes sense to them: black birds, aeroplanes, storm clouds, swarms of locusts, that sort of thing. The Vordene, the Scathers, our battles, are all hidden from the eyes of humans.’

Turner frowned. ‘By who?’

Celeste waved her hand at the gardens. ‘Mother Earth of course. Mother Nature. Gaia. It’s Mother Earth who is fighting the evilness. And it uses the fundamental elements: fire, water, earth and air, but in human form. Us.’

Turner looked at Celeste. ‘You forgot spirit.’

‘Yes, and spirit. Although not a basic element, the spirit dwells within all of the others, yet stands alone as well.’ Celeste placed a hand on her chest. ‘Like the spirit of the Vordene,’ she said looking at Turner intently, ‘and … like the spirit of the Vordene’s Ring.’

‘But like I said, I’m not a spirit, am I?’ said Turner. ‘You were expecting a spirit animal not a twenty-two year old programmer from Hyde Park.’

They had descended another flight of old stone steps and now stood beside what looked to Turner to be a small ancient shrine.

‘No,’ said Celeste, ‘we weren’t expecting a human for our Ring. But, and remember this, there must be something special about you to have been chosen.’ She pointed to the shrine-like building. ‘I’ll show you the well now, but back at the house just remember what we’ve talked about before you go making any rash decisions. There are much bigger things to consider than just you and I.’

Turner rubbed the back of his neck. ‘OK, I won’t rush into anything. But I never imagined anything like this could happen to me. Seriously, the closest I’ve ever been to anything supernatural is playing RPG and fantasy games on my computer. This is just … huge, I guess. Scary huge.’

Celeste looked at him kindly. ‘I guess it would seem a bit scary. But just take one thing at a time. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t meant to be. And as well as your new-found “super powers”, you’ve got a house full of girls who want you in their lives. So, so it’s not all bad, huh?’

Turner nodded. He decided if he hung around he would at least stop acting like a scared little boy. If only for the fact he didn’t want Ember calling him ‘chicken-shit’ again.

 ‘Yeah. OK. Not all bad.’ He pointed to the little building. ‘Show me the well, spirit lady.’  

The well’s structure was open on one side, with columns on each corner holding up a little pyramid of a roof. A lot of the old stone was covered in moss and lichen. ‘I thought it was a shrine.’

‘You’re right really. This is a well. A sacred well. There’s thousands of these scattered around Britain. Not all in good condition like this though. In their most basic form they are just springs of fresh water rising from the ground. Humans have always valued the springs of course, but over time a lot of these springs took on more spiritual, or religious associations. Probably because people could feel their power, you know, unconsciously. A lot of the springs were made into stone wells, some even covered like this. This is the Wicker Well.’

‘Like a wicker basket?’

Celeste’s gave him a strange smile. ‘If you like. Come. This way.’ She entered the small stone building.

Inside it was dim and damp. In the middle of the structure was a square, stone pool of dark water. A small channel carried the overflow out the other side of the building where Turner could hear the sound of trickling water. It was strangely warm in the small room, and the air was thick with the damp smell of moss and fresh water. Turner stood still in the semi-darkness. He
could
feel something. He wasn’t nervous but he felt the hairs on his arms rise. It was as if there was electricity in the air. 

‘I feel something.’

‘You should. Imagine all the wells, the springs, are joined like a huge metaphysical net across the land. Across the world really. Like arteries. We harness those connections and use them as a way of travelling across distances. Around the world really.’

‘Wait. What? You dive into the well and swim under the ground?’

Celeste looked at him quizzically. ‘Oh boy, would that be dumb. No, we stand next to the well and tune into the power of the water spreading across the land, we think of the place we need to go, then zip, we’re there.’

‘Magic.’

‘Bloody hell, Turner. Magic is pulling a rabbit out of a hat. This is listening, connecting and using the living Earth. And given who we are it’s really just the Earth using the Earth. In this case we’re just blood cells using the arteries. Magic. I spit on your magic.’

Turner held up his hands. ‘OK. I get it. You girls are supernatural beings who aren’t witches, and use elemental powers which aren’t magic.’

‘Yes, exactly. And don’t forget it.’

‘I won’t. It’s all … hey do you feel that?’ The air in the well seemed to coalesce around Turner’s neck. He felt as if a train was approaching down a tunnel, or a large wave was about to break.

‘Let’s get out. Move,’ said Celeste.

‘Why? What’s hap …’ but the rest of his sentence was cut short as Celeste grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the well.

Once outside in the sunlight again, Celeste said, ‘Usually we have a bit of warning …’ She looked at Turner, her eyes wide, ‘Someone’s coming.’

*

From where Turner stood he could see into the well. Out of nowhere, without any great flash of light or swirling purple mist, two women appeared by the central pool of water.

Turner grinned widely. Transporter beams! In spite of himself he was becoming more and more intrigued with this whole supernatural setup. As long as there weren’t any more bloody monsters, he was almost willing to see where this Ring thing went.

The women both took a deep breath and looked around. Dressed in long gowns and golden hooded cloaks they had a medieval air about them. When they turned Turner could see one looked older than the other, but both were striking. Rich red hair flowed from beneath the younger woman’s hood, while a thin headband of gold bound the older woman’s long braided silver hair. Turner felt she looked almost regal. 

‘Mother Torhild! Aunt Sigrid!’ said Celeste.

‘Celeste’, said the younger woman softly to the elder.

The older woman stepped forward to embrace Celeste. ‘Aye, of course. Celeste. Spirit of the Wickerwell Vordene.’ Turner found the woman’s Scottish accent almost musical. The woman stepped back. ‘We heard, felt really of course, about poor little Lani. How is she? I’ve come to lend a hand if I can. The Healing you know.’

‘Oh, Mother Torhild, that’s so good of you’, said Celeste.