Have to. I know. You’ve done so much for me already, but can I ask one more thing from you?”
“Ask it.”
“When it’s my turn to go-”
“Please don’t talk about that.”
“Listen to me. When it’s my turn to go, if in any way possible I want it to be you. Whether it’s a few years from now, a few decades or I’m eighty years old in this very room with Arden next door and twenty cats roaming around the place, I want it to be you. Knowing I would see you one last time…” I couldn’t finish.
His eyes shone liquid gold. “It will be me.
“How have I spent the last five hundred years without you?” He let his head fall back against the grey stone and closed his eyes momentarily.
My breath caught in my throat, and I realised it was time to confess what I’d done. “You might not think that when I tell you what I have to tell you.”
“I’m all ears.”
I looked to the floor, wringing my hands in front of me. “It isn’t good, I’m warning you. It’s my fault you got hurt.”
His black eyebrows drew together, shadows crossing his face. “What makes you say that?”
“I had a dream about you and in the dream, you were injured just like when I found you. The wounds even matched, and the bruises,” my eyes shuttered, I couldn’t think about him hurt again. “I wanted you to know how sorry I am and that I didn’t know. It seems because I dreamt it, it somehow came true.”
Finally, I looked at him again to find a smile on his face. A smile that soon turned into a grin.
“What’s so funny?”
He tilted his head to one side. “You didn’t do it,” he said, all sincerity returning. “You’re not to blame. I’m not saying pre-cognitive powers aren’t a thing, they are but thinking or even dreaming of something happening will not make it so.”
“Then why or how did I dream of you being hurt? How is that possible?”
Rafe shrugged. “I don’t understand witch magic, I don’t even understand angel magic but whatever it was, you dreamt of something that had already happened. Please don’t dwell on it anymore. What’s that?”
Before I’d had time to breathe, he’d swept a hand beneath the strands of my hair and uncovered the bruising at my temple.
His jaw dropped. “What the hell, Riley?” He kept his hand where it was, the cold of his fingers burning my face, his fingers curling beneath my chin. He clenched his jaw, the tautness rippling through the rest of him, snapping tension into his shoulders and arms.
I hated that lying to him was my first instinct. It was my first instinct with most people these days but as I thought about it, what purpose would it serve?
Deceit did not sit well with me. Sneaking out and lying were not the sort of things I did, and yet tonight I had done both. I took a swig from the bottle in my hand, grimacing at the bitter taste. The glass knocked against my teeth.
“God, Riley, you’re quiet. You’re here now, you might as well enjoy it.” Kat knelt on the blanket beside me.
As soon as she sat down, I could smell it; the stench of stale smoke burning my nostrils. “Please tell me you haven’t been smoking,” I coughed, waving a hand in front of my face to waft the fumes away.
“Of course I haven’t.” she said before diving into her bag to retrieve a shocking pink aerosol can. She sprayed it all over herself with a few squirts into the air for good measure. “Simon insists he won’t stop though, so until Channing Tatum becomes free it looks like I’m sticking with him. Anyway, back to you, what’s up?”
I balanced the almost full bottle in the grass, the contents settling uneasily in my stomach.
“I’m just on edge, you know what my grandmother gets like. She hates me being out past dark. She’ll kill me if she finds out.” It wasn’t a lie. My grandmother worried over the slightest thing.
“You’re seventeen, but if you’re that worried, we’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t find out. Where’s Will?”
I shrugged. “I haven’t seen him for a while. The last time I did, he was fighting his way to the front of the crowd.” With a short bow of my head I nodded towards the fifty-deep crowd who were dancing and swaying in ways that didn’t suit the heavy metal band rocking it out on the stage.
Kat had spent weeks begging me to break my grandmother’s strict rules and sneak out to the clandestine festival. Now sat here with my ears ringing because of the constant din, I wished I hadn’t bothered. My boyfriend Will had barely looked at me, never mind spent any time with me. Smoke cloaked around seeping into my pores, so it could invade my lungs, choking them. Makeshift firepits sprang up everywhere in the clearing in the middle of Derwent Woods.
“Do you want to go find him?” Kat tilted her head and fluttered her fake eyelashes.
I’d known her long enough to know she wasn’t asking and before I knew it, Kat had pulled me to my feet. “Come on, let’s see if we can get Will to put a smile on your face. If anyone can, I’m sure it’s him.”
We delved deeper through the crowd; it wasn’t easy to navigate the twisting bodies and flailing arms, some of which smacked me straight in the face. The stench was almost unbearable, cheap perfume, the musty smell of beer all mixed in with sweat and smoke.
“I can’t see them, can you?”
“They’ve got to be here somewhere,” said Kat. She craned her neck to scan the crowd. “Tell you what, if you go to the right, I’ll go this way and we’ll send the other one a text if we find them. OK? Great.”
“Kat wait!” But the mass of bodies had already swallowed my friend, bottles of alcohol raised in the air, the crowd singing as loud as their voices would let them.
Fighting my way in the direction Kat had told me to go, I was confronted by one unfamiliar face after another. They swam before my eyes and merged into one continuous blur.
Heat rose in my face and I could feel sweat coating my forehead, droplets running down the length of my neck. I tugged at the stiff collar of my denim jacket but the more I did, the more it closed around my throat like a vice.
More limbs struck.
I fought for oxygen.
My hand raced around my neck in a frantic motion to reassure me nothing was actually choking me. The contents of the dancing bottles dripped down onto my hair and skin. I’d stink of the stuff.
Making my way to the back of the crowd, pushing through people as though they were water and I was desperate for the shore, I broke out into the open. I inhaled as much fresh air as I could, letting the space tackle and subdue the panic rising within me. The constant sound of the band roaring on was the only reminder of where I was, the only thing preventing me from falling to my knees and making a spectacle of myself before most of the year twelves and thirteens.
But I wasn’t alone.
There, standing right in the middle of the clearing, isolated, was a figure. A man, shoulders wide and broad. He was staring, gaze steady and unmoving, his lips slightly parted. Shock registered on his face and a darkness bloomed in his widening eyes. They burned with an intensity so bright that the night sky with all its stars and wonders paled in comparison.
Those eyes unnerved me, but I couldn’t look away.
My eyes moved to the untamed tangle of black hair hanging loose just above his shoulders.
His leather jacket looked worn and battered and his skin-tight dark jeans silhouetted his strong legs against the light of the moon. In that moment, I believed I had never seen anything more beautiful. Electricity pulsed in my veins.
Turning to the crowd, I expected to see the focus of his attention but only found a wall of human backs. When I sought him again, he had gone, vanished into the night air as though he had never been there at all. There was a niggling in my stomach which I did my best to ignore.
A hand clamped down on my shoulder and I spun blood throbbing.
“Where have you been?”
I took hold of Kat’s rolled-up sleeves. “Did you see him? Tell me you saw him.”
“What are you talking about? Who?”
“The man! He was there!” I pointed to the clearing, metres away where I swore he had stood. “Right there, leather jacket, tall, great-looking. As in exquisitely good-looking.”
But Kat shook her head. “Nope, but if you see him again make sure you give me a shout because he sounds lovely. Come on, I’ve found the boys.” Grabbing hold of my wrist, Kat pulled me through the thronging crowd where I couldn’t help but examine every face, looking for the one that had set my nerve-endings on fire.
Glancing back, my eyes met with the dancing flames of the firepits, the darkness behind the tress that framed the clearing and the empty void where Riley now doubted she had seen him at all.
When we reached Will and Simon, we found that the boys had worked their way right to the front. The lyrics were flying from their mouths, out of tune and delivered between swigs of the beer Kat had made me try earlier. As soon as Will locked eyes with me, he stumbled towards me with a widening grin on his handsome face. I felt a pang in my stomach when I remembered what I’d thought about the man in the clearing.
“Where have you been?” he croaked. His voice broke under the strain of singing misheard lyrics at the top of his voice. His hands were all over my back, moving lower and lower. He leaned in ready to place a kiss on my lips. Reaching back, I stopped his hands from travelling further but welcomed the intimate kiss I’d waited all night for.
He tasted of that wretched alcohol but despite the horrible taste, my heart leapt. Reaching up, I ran my hand through his short, dirty-blond hair.
“We need more time together,” he said, lips pressed against my ear. “Alone.”
I tensed. I knew the meaning behind those words but instead of showing how I really felt, I plastered a smile on my face. After all, it was what I wanted, wasn’t it? Having pined for him for the last four years with not one sign I was even on his radar, I was determined to make the most of being his.
Screams pierced the deafening music and my happy bubble exploded.
“What was that?” I asked but Will had already let me go.
Panic rolled through the gathered crowd like a violent wave upon the sea. Frantic bodies were running in all directions. I stood still long enough to feel the loss of Will’s body heat and watch him leave me to join the dispersing group.
“Will?”
The music cut off followed by a large crash as the musicians abandoned their instruments hastily.
“Will? Kat?” My friends had gone and left me alone. Pinpointing a few escaping bodies, I ran to them. The screaming was terrible. It seemed to drill into ever pore, puncturing my skin until I couldn’t think straight.
I fell to the ground.
There was no pain at first but as I lifted my hands up from the grassy field, thick blood trickled from a jagged wound across my palm. Looking down, I saw the fragmented remains of a glass bottle hidden in the grass, coated in my blood.
There was more than I expected, and it wasn’t stopping. I noticed the dark droplets, black in the moonlight, ran down the long blades. Hitting the ground, they sizzled, steal rose high and the world began to spin. Idly, I considered how lucky I was to already be on my knees, otherwise, I would have fallen again.
Out of the darkness created by the canopy of trees from the surrounding wood, shadows emerged. There were one or two at first and then more came. They moved forward in quick, sharp jerks barely touching the ground with their stick-like limbs. The only creatures I had ever seen scurry like that were spiders.
My own breathing drummed in my ears as all sound from the rest of the world died; blood thumped drowning out everything else. As they neared, I noted the dull white of their skin as it stretched over thin, sharp bones like a translucent film. Two pointed pincers bulged out of the side of their head and around the front of their faces whilst fire danced in their almond-shaped feline eyes. Their features were small and neat giving them an almost feminine element.
I was the only one left in the clearing now. Bloody typical considering I was the most reluctant to be there out of everyone. Only me and a dozen of these things. Pushing myself up, I grimaced at the pain in my hand. After steadying my feet, I took calculated steps backwards, taking care not to trip over the abandoned debris strewn over the grass. With every step, the creatures seemed to quicken theirs, needles stabbing material.
“Are you going to make a half-arsed attempt to get away or just let them capture and kill you?”
The voice was rich and deep in an accent I couldn’t place. Silken almost and seemed to cause an eruption of sparks inside me. A body towered over me and grabbed my wrist. I turned to look upon the face of the man from the clearing. It was no longer unreadable with his creased brow and lips set into a firm line.
My heart faltered. Shit.
“Come on,” he hissed, pulling me with him. We ran as fast as we could across the grass back towards the stage. Being much shorter than he was, I struggled to keep up with his longer strides. He moved with grace across the ground whilst I spent most of my energy just trying to stay upright.
He glanced over his shoulder. “They’re gaining on us. Hurry!” He increased his speed pulling me along with him, the grip on my wrist so tight it burned.
Each penetrating stab reverberated across the ground and the nearer they got, the more I could hear a strange high-pitched screech. He pulled me to the side of the now abandoned stage to where a silver and black motorcycle leaned to one side, propped up by a short leg.
“Hop on,” he said, as he leapt on himself. With a kick of his boot, the leg flicked up, and the engine roared into life. He looked at me once more. “Hurry, what are you waiting for?”
“There’s isn’t a helmet.” I hesitated.
His eyes widened, amusement flickering in them. “Seriously? We are getting chased by demons who I know want to kill us and you’re worried about where the helmet is?”
Demons. He said the word demons. Double shit.
“Good point,” I hitched up my long skirt and threw my leg over the other side of the motorbike. At first, I didn’t know where to place my hands and settled for the thin strip of leather between us.
“Here,” he reached round, grabbed both of my hands and pulled them around his waist. My chest crashed into his back and even through the layers of our clothes I could feel the strength of it. I already knew I was blushing.
“I need you to hold on,” he shouted over the noise of the engine.
Brushing the contours of the muscles on his taut stomach brought heat to my cheeks, burning. Thankfully, he couldn’t see my face.
Together, we sped away and the creatures gave chase. The man drove straight into the forest and Riley wondered if he hoped the trees would act as an obstacle and slow them down.
Derwent Forest itself, was thick and known for the dense canopy overhead that blocked most sunrays from breaking through. As it was night, everywhere around us was black except for the metre in front which the bike’s headlamp illuminated.
“What did you say those things were?” I shouted in his ear.
“Demons,” he shouted back. “Arachna more specifically, half human and half spider. All of them are female.”
“But they can’t be, they just can’t.”
“Female or demons? Hang on!” he steered left, avoiding a thick row of tree trunks. He showed great driving ability as he weaved in and out of the trunks, navigating root laden and bush covered paths as though he had driven this way a thousand times.
When I dared to look behind us, my loose hair lashed my face like gilt-coloured whips. My faux daisy headband had stayed in place, which was a good thing because if it flew off I’d make him go back for it. Demons be damned.
“They’re getting closer!”
“They can’t move that quick! These are new ones emerging from the undergrowth.”
My head snapped back to him. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“None of this is about making you feel better,” he called back, swerving again.
We hit an emerging root. My hands wrapped around him tighter to stop myself from falling off but he jumped the bike and landed us back on the ground on the other side.
“You OK back there?”
“Yes,” I replied as the wind rushed and whistled by my ear.
A volcano of dirt and greenery erupted in front of us. The man jammed the brakes on and skidded, landing at an angle as two white pincers grappled out of the ground. He seemed to think for a moment before he flew off in the direction we were facing.
“Not much further now,” he called back to me.
“What do you mean?” The motorbike hurtled at such a speed now I was forced to gasp for breath and found it difficult to speak.
“You’ll see.”
In the distance, I could see the darkness of the forest fading until a dark navy blue took over and then lighter still as we neared the edge of the forest.
I knew the creatures were still coming, I could hear the clicking sound they made with their mouths and the repetitive thuds as they stabbed the ground. I felt easier now knowing we would soon be out of the forest but there was a twist in my gut that had nothing to do with the vicious looking monsters but more with a pissed off grandmother. There was not one occasion I hadn’t adhered to my grandmother’s many strict rules but in one night I had broken at least three of them. I was out after my eight o’clock curfew; I had spoken to a stranger, and I was on a bike without appropriate headwear. Demon creatures or not, I was in for it.
We broke through the boundary of the forest and entered the village. When he slowed down, I realised we were right outside Valestone’s Norman church, the closed lichgate ahead.
The man spun the bike, so we landed parallel to the forest with the church behind us. He twisted the key, and the noise died.
“What are you doing? They will get us here.” When I spoke, it felt like I was underwater. My words appeared muffled, my ears blocked.
The creatures still approached.
My head felt light and sweat coated my palms as the translucent skin of the demons came into view, shining like pearls in the moonlight.
He ignored me, eyes fixed dead ahead. I wasn’t even sure he was still breathing.
“Rude,” but I only dared mutter the word under my breath.
One creature placed a pincer across the boundary of the forest, marked by a row of uniform trees. As soon as they did, electric flashes like lightning, surged up the offending limb until it covered the whole demon. It sizzled and crackled before its body went limp and slumped to the ground, lifeless. Two other demons scurried up to the dead body, trying to nudge it alive but when it didn’t move, they retreated in a hurry taking the whole horde with them.
“The village is protected. They can’t come here.”
“Why is that?”
“You need to go home. Now.”
I dismounted and stood by the side, arms folded across my chest in annoyance. “That’s it? No explanation? Oh hello, demons exist, you have a nice night now. Goodbye! That’s all I get?”
“What more do you want? I’ve just saved your life, that’s enough for today.” His eyes, I still couldn’t see what colour, glittered in the moonlight. “You need to go home.”
I opened my mouth to say something when I realised I didn’t know what to say. What more did I want? “Right. Well, yes, I should go home then. Nice bike, by the way.”
He rubbed the back of his neck whilst staring at the motorcycle. “Yeah, it’s not mine. Some idiot left it back at the festival with the keys still in the ignition. An idiot I am very grateful to. I’m just going to leave this here.” He dismounted and offered a sly smile. “Are you going to be OK?”
“Ah well, that all depends on whether my grandmother is awake, which considering that female spider demons have just attacked our neighbouring town, I’m guessing she will know something about it by now. Everyone tells my gran everything.” I studied the gash across my palm, flecks of dried blood formed a boundary around the open wound.
“Are you hurt?”
I snatched my hand away, hiding it by my side. “Just a little scratch.”
He nodded. Staring. God those eyes. A shiver teased my spine. I found that I could not look at them long before a feeling that brought colouring shame to my cheeks took over. “Thank you for what you did,” I offered.
“Don’t mention it,” he said throwing the words away as though they were rubbish. “Everyone else had the sense to leave.”
I let the last comment deflect off me. “Well, thanks anyway,” I forced myself away from him, hurrying towards home. It took the control of every muscle and every bone in my body not to look back.
#Repost @sariyahidan with @get_repost ・・・ May we all release self doubt & rise into the most brilliant versions of ourselves, harmonize with each other. Really grateful for all the love coming in for the BREAKING SHADOWS album. Link in bio..... Opening track SHINE recorded entirely in Berlin at Tricon Studio in the legendary @funkhaus_berlin & at Viktoria Studios in the also legendary neighborhood of Kreuzberg. . •@andy.schlegel_ recording/mixing engineer & coproducer •@jerome_bonaparte_drums on drums •@5tefanfuhr on bass •@amoyribas on percussion •Christian Dawid on saxophone •guitar & vocals by me •written & produced by me . . #shine #breakingshadows #newmusic #debutLP #singersongwriter #soul #folk #hiphopeducated #jewess #sariyahidan #berlin #newyork #losangeles #femaleproducer #sheisthemusic #womeninmusic #internationalmusicproject #internationalartist https://www.instagram.com/p/B4SC-KgHVGW/?igshid=15yffuxb4wl26
On Saturday morning, I found myself in a foul mood. Will had avoided me for the entire day. Kat said it was because he was pissed about the rumours but how could I explain myself or lie if he wouldn’t speak to me?
It didn’t help that I wouldn’t have another chance until Monday as my Gran-imposed grounding had now begun.
No going out.
No phone.
When I found Gran, she was up, dressed and in the kitchen surrounded by chaos.
Light from the breaking morning struggled to penetrate the dirt-streaked window panes of the cottage. It did however, highlight the patch where I had written ‘clean me’ earlier in the week. The small amount of golden haze witnessed the destruction that had occurred across every worktop. Containers full of different coloured liquids looked like they were arranged for a jumble sale and glass bottles reflected their colours onto any surface they could reach like broken shards of stained glass.
“What are you doing?”
Gran jumped a foot in the air. “Riley! You’re up!” She shuffled across to hide whatever she had on the stove. Her round cheeks were pink and bright with her light grey hair twisted and pinned on the top of her head. “What are you doing up so early?” She waved a spatula in my direction. “You better not have plans, my girl. Because of Thursday night’s performance, you’re not going anywhere.”
I rolled my eyes. As if I needed any more reminders about the demons only I seemed to remember or the fact I was grounded.
“Obviously not. I don’t have a death wish. I couldn’t sleep anymore. So, what are you doing?” I raised an eyebrow, surveying the kitchen.
“Soup.”
“Soup?”
“Chicken soup. Homemade, as you can see,” Gran’s eyes flitted across the assembled items.
I hesitated a guess at what she was thinking. Not one thing in the kitchen resembled anything that would make chicken soup, even to someone as cooking illiterate as me.
“For the Tudor girl. She’s sick.”
“And they couldn’t just get that from the shop?”
“Shame on you Riley Archer! We help each other in this community, you know that.”
“Do you need a hand then? You look tired.”
“No!” Gran snapped then closed her eyes. “No, I would like you to collect the chicken eggs and any of the fruit and vegetables that are ready.” She pointed to the wicker basket hanging from a crude nail in one beam. “There’s some peas ready but if you could check everything else that would be a great help.”
I sighed, reaching up to retrieve the basket. “I’ll leave you to your chicken soup.”
Heading to the front door, I pulled on my wellington boots. Gran was hiding something, and the weight of the thought settled in my stomach like an anvil. Why would she hide something from me? That question bothered me most of all.
I stepped out of the door with caution. Since the events of the other night, I was constantly on edge, as though being on my own made be vulnerable. As though that would make the creatures come.
The village is protected. They can’t come here.
The words of my rescuer echoed in my mind just as his fading image had over the last two days. I should have stayed and demanded more from him, made him give me answers.
But he had just saved my life.
How could I have asked for more?
Idly, I wondered what was so special about Valestone. What stopped the demons from crossing into our village?
Blacker than Whitby Jet, a solitary feather caught my eye interrupting my thoughts. Its colour made ever more vivid by the washed-out, broken flagstone it laid upon. I thought about the bird it may have come from, raven or crow maybe. The sheer size of the feather suggested the bird must have been huge too and I’d not seen any birds of that size sailing around. Gran hated crows because she believed they signalled change and she liked things the way they were.
Without another thought, I plucked the feather from its resting place and pushed it through one of the holes in the wicker basket. One more time, I checked the lane was clear before following the broken path that edged the cottage to the back garden. Whilst the grass had grown long, and thorny rose bushes ran wild all the way down one side of the garden, the greenhouse and produce planters were perfectly kept. Gran tended to them religiously, especially her collection of herbs that filled every window box and plant pot she could find. She had everything from the usual basil, clove and thyme to strange exotic plants I didn’t know the name of. Her collection was vast and used often.
I checked the chicken coop first. Gran’s four plump hens, Fee, Fi, Fo and Fum were lazy layers and only produced eggs every now and again. Two eggs today, better than nothing. I placed them at the bottom of the basket. Dozens of fat, red tomatoes were ripe and ready for plucking, I piled them into the basket thinking if everything else failed, we could live on homemade tomato soup.
Brought on a gentle breeze, the scent of rain on a hot summer night hit me. Shivers barrelled down my spine and I whipped my head to look behind me, fully expecting to see someone standing there. But there was no-one. Just the bloom of an English cottage garden in July.
After checking the other vegetables and picking the ones that were ready, the basket was soon bursting with a variety of home grown foods. Gran would be pleased.
When I returned to the kitchen, there wasn’t a single item out of place. “Have you had a team of cleaners in here while I was outside?” I couldn’t see any of the various containers that had swamped the worktops and where the sun’s rays had reflected off the curved glass bottles, they now highlighted the gleaming granite surface of Gran’s kitchen.
Gran gave a teetering laugh. “It wasn’t that bad, just a few bottles and utensils. This and that,” she avoided my eye and placed a container in a paper bag. “Soup’s ready.”
Strange really that Gran’s chicken soup was an off-pink colour. “Are you taking that now?”
“We’re taking it now.”
“What? I don’t want to go to the Tudor’s. Why do I have to go?”
Gran sighed. “Because I don’t want you out of my sight.”
I placed the full basket on the dining table. “Ah but I’m grounded so I’m not allowed to leave the house and just a little advice, you should be consistent in your approach to punishment.”
“Don’t get smart. You’re coming with me. End of conversation.”
My shoulders slumped. “It looks like you’re going to make this grounding as fun as possible,” I moaned.
Gran grinned. “Yes I am.”
***
Daisy Tudor could not have been more than five-years-old and yet she was paler than the petals of the flower that bore her name, a mass of dampened wild curls spreading out from her head across the pillow. Gran and Marion Tudor, Daisy’s mother, spoke in hushed tones. I hovered in the doorway to the girl’s room. A tree that could have been out of any fantasy story had been hand painted on one wall with branches that stretched onto the adjoining wall and across the ceiling. Vinyl fairies danced around the whole room in pastel pinks, blues and yellows. I’d have done anything for a room like this when I was younger, I’d probably still have it now.
“Has she spoken at all?” Gran sunk down and sat at the edge of Daisy’s bed. Placing the soup down on the side, the older woman took the young child’s hand in hers. Gran placed the tips of her forefingers on the inside of Daisy’s wrist and held them there for a few seconds then moved her hand to her forehead.
“Not a word,” Marion’s voice wobbled. “She hasn’t opened her eyes for days. Not since-” she glanced to me with alarmed almond-shaped eyes. Mrs Tudor looked like a creature from the fairy realm herself, with her long, lithe limbs and short, wispy locks. Her ears even had a smooth arched point at the top.
Gran licked her dry lips. “Why don’t you wait downstairs, Riley? I won’t be long here.”
“But-”
“Downstairs, please.” Gran gave me one of her ‘don’t-you-dare-think-about-arguing-with-me’ looks and like always, they did the trick.
I pulled a face but did as she asked. As I always did.
The Tudor’s home closely resembled our cottage. Small, compact. No more than what they needed but no less either. I flopped myself down on the pastel coloured flowery sofa. Floor to ceiling bookshelves covered the living room walls. Books had been jammed any which way they would fit. Upside down, not in size order.
I looked away, crossing my arms, trying to focus on anything else but the disorganised chaos of the bookcase kept calling to me. Mrs Tudor wouldn’t mind if I sorted out a shelf or two. I busied myself pulling out the books which had been horizontally piled on top of the others. No sense, no order. How could anyone treat books like this?
A shadow crossed the window drawing my attention, followed by a flapping sound like the wings of a huge bird in flight. It didn’t cross my mind until I’d flung open the front door and launched myself out of it that the demons could have returned. I stood in the middle of the path searching for someone, something, anything.
Three feathers floated down from the sky. They matched the one I’d found before my own front door that morning. Dark with a glossy shine. With a few quick glances up and down, I gathered them up, turning them over in my hand so I could examine them.
“Riley?” Gran’s full frame blocked the Tudor’s doorway. “I’m all done here, we can go now.”
My fingers curled around the feathers. “How is Daisy?”
Gran closed the door behind her. “She’ll be fine now. Come on, we’ll have a nice walk home. What do you have there?” Her eyes narrowed at the feathers in my hand.
“Feathers I found on the path.”
Gran paled. “Dark feathers.”
“Yes.”
“Just make sure you wash your hands. You’ve no idea where they’ve come from.”
The sun beat down on us mercilessly, only made bearable by a sprightly breeze that had picked up.
“Why were you outside? I told you to wait downstairs.”
“You did, but I thought I saw something, I wasn’t sure what and I went to check it out.”
“How many times do I have to warn you to be careful? You are reckless recently, running off at any whim.”
“Reckless? Gran, I went to one festival. That’s it. Daisy looked like…”
“What?” Each sentence seemed to end with Gran wheezing. Her colour hadn’t improved either.
“She looked like - y’know, that she hasn’t got long left.”
“Little Daisy will be fine within a week or two. There’s no need to worry.” Her lips tightened to let me know there would be no more talking about Daisy Tudor.
“Say what you want but even I know that chicken soup can’t fix what is wrong with that girl.”
Gran smirked. “You’ll be amazed at the stuff chicken soup can cure. I’m astonished it’s not on the NHS list of recommended treatments.” Her voice trailed off and her cheeks puffed out as an onslaught of violent coughs racked her body. Doubling over, Gran struggled to catch her breath.
I stilled. “Gran?” I took tentative steps forward putting my hand out to steady her.
Her own arm shot out freezing me in my tracks. “I’m fine,” she panted. “Just a little unfit. Would you mind if we sat down for a while?”
“Of course not, here let me help,” I offered her my arm while alarm bells rang in my head. The village was tiny. Gran had never had a problem walking anywhere in Valestone. It just wasn’t big enough to cause breathlessness.
I slowed my pace, stepping back in line with Gran and helped her over to the bench dedicated to Mr and Mrs Moss.
“Take as long as you need.”
Across the way, I spied Fawn Underhill hurrying down the lane. The strap of her shoulder bag much too long it hung past her knees. She had her arms wrapped around herself.
“Are you going to be OK if I speak to Fawn?”
“It’s not like I’m going anywhere for a while.”
I raced after Fawn calling her name. As I neared, she turned to me, eyes narrowing.
“Hi,” I panted. God, I needed to get more exercise.
She pursed her full lips. “Where is the organ grinder to grant you permission to speak to me?”
“Fair enough. I deserved that. I wanted to make sure you’re OK and to let you know I really am sorry for barging into you.”
With slender fingers, Fawn raked her brown hair behind her ear. Kat was wrong, Fawn’s hair was lovely. Thick, luscious curls fell like a waterfall down her back. Gold eyeshadow, her signature colour, adorned her eyelids contrasting beautifully with the smooth brown of her skin.
“I’m fine. Knocking me down didn’t hurt half as much as seeing you too scared to say anything. You’re better than that, Riley. You know that, don’t you?”
“I’m sorry,” I repeated, fully ashamed of how right Fawn was. “I won’t let her say anything to you again. Not like that. It was wrong.”
Fawn seemed to consider me for a moment. “I was going to catch you at school on Monday, to speak to you. I would like us to be friends, Riley. We used to be close. That was before-”
Before Kat and Will.
“I’d like that,” I smiled, offering a hand out to her. “Friends.”
***
Back at the cottage, I took full advantage of Gran’s rest by sneaking my phone out of the lock box in the larder. The corners of my mouth twitched when I realised she’d hidden the box behind the Bran Flakes because Gran knew I wouldn’t touch the stuff.
I eased open the front door and sat on the doorstep to ring Will. The coldness of the concrete penetrated the layer of my jeans. He seemed to take an age to answer.
“Hey, babe,” he yawned. “Are you wanting to come over?”
“I’m still grounded,” I moaned down the phone. “I just wanted to speak to you. It feels like I haven’t seen you since the festival.”
“Sorry to hear that, babe,” he said with a distinct air of indifference.
I cringed at the lazy endearment. Babe. It was what Simon called Kat and because she loved it, Will thought we could adopt it and use it ourselves. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I hated it. Every time he used it, I had to stop myself screaming that my name wasn’t and never will be ‘babe’.
He yawned again, sounding more bored than tired.
“I looked out for you at school yesterday too, but I didn’t see you. It’s almost like you were avoiding me.”
“I was.”
“Oh.” That punch in the gut hurt.
“I know. Loads of rumours were flying around school about you and this guy on a motorcycle so I thought it was best to distance myself from the gossip but now that’s all cleared up, when do you think I’ll be able to see you? We have a lot of catching up to do if you get my meaning.”
I envisaged him winking on the other side of the phone, and yes, I knew what he meant, and it made me shift uncomfortably on the doorstep. His words fuelled a strange feeling in me which I contained by biting my lip. “I don’t know. I’m trying my best to do everything Gran says hoping I might get let off early due to good behaviour.”
“Ok babe, I’ll be waiting.”
He rang off and my head fell into my hands. I’d fancied Will Bennett for years. He still had the same mop of blond hair but his pink, rounded cheeks had angled out and he’d lost all his baby fat leaving him slender. I couldn’t believe it when he asked me out, though I think Kat had a lot to do with it and she can be very persuasive. We’d never been like Kat and Simon, who were all over each other at every opportunity, but I thought we were OK until the festival. But now things were different.
I shuddered despite the summer night and kept my arms wrapped around myself.
Demons are real.
Deep breath.
Another involuntary shiver. I headed straight for home in the centre of the village keeping to the middle of the lane, so I could see all around me. Valestone was tiny, particularly in comparison to Pagnall, our nearest town, but today I was happy about that. I just needed to be home. Considering what had happened tonight, I thought the village would be awash with residents racing around in mad hysteria. But there was nothing but the usual peaceful slumber I would have expected in the early hours of the morning.
Reaching into my pocket, I took out my phone and searched for Will’s name, checking behind in case something had made it into the village. The phone rang for an age and when he didn’t pick up, nausea settled at the base of my stomach. I tried Kat and got the same response. I couldn’t bear to think about what could have happened to them.
By the time I reached the cottage, my heart thumped to a wild beat and a dark cloud of ominous thoughts has settled in my mind. Gran’s cottage was cast in the same eerie darkness as the rest of the village. Vile panic burned the base of my throat. It was too quiet.
I eased the rusted metal lock on the garden gate before slipping through. Peering in each of the windows, I was relieved when no curtains twitched, or shadows crossed behind the panes. I tried to be as quiet as I could as I fished my keys out of my pocket and bit my lip when the jagged teeth on the front door key jutted into the cut on my hand.
The door released a creak of pain and I winced. One step inside and the hallway light flickered on.
Shit. My heart stopped.
As did my grandmother.
The soft grey curls framing her face were wild and dishevelled, her eyes wide and glistening in the artificial light.
“Oh my- Riley!” she crossed the few steps between us and wrapped me in her arms, the scent of lavender triggering a dormant headache. One of her hands went to my hair, pulling my head towards her shoulder. “Riley, you’re all right.”
Her voice wavered. There was desperation, relief and even surprise wrapped up in my grandmother’s arms. I had expected a bollocking. Not this.
I looked up in surprise as Marion Tudor, one of our neighbours, emerged from the gloom behind Gran. She smiled at me, highlighting the small pixie-like features of her face and I wondered what the hell she was doing here in the early hours of the morning.
“Rebecca, it is after midnight. It is the third.”
I stopped myself pointing out that the third follows the second in every month, but I held my tongue. It wouldn’t serve me well when Gran’s relief subsided because I’d broken her rules and anger reigned.
She pushed me away, holding me at arm’s length. Withered hands cupped my face, her thumbs making downward strokes with her thumbs.
“Where the hell have you been?”
That didn’t take as long as expected.
Marion’s eyes darted between Gran and me. “I’d better go, the babysitter will charge me double at this rate.”
“Yes, and thank you, Marion,” Gran called out as the other woman left.
“And just where the hell have you been?” she repeated.
I felt my whole-body slump. Here we go.
“Gran-”
“Don’t you Gran me! How dare you disobey me? I have rules in place for a reason, Riley.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I closed the door behind Marion with my head low, keen that nothing should slip inside. Bolting the door firmly in place, I toyed with the idea of telling her the truth. Look Gran, I’m sorry but I’ve had a crap night because I’ve just been attacked by humongous spider demons. Oh and yeah, demons exist.
The fury etched out on my grandmother’s face changed my mind, no excuses would wash with her in this mood.
“Anything, I mean anything could have happened to you tonight. And then what? What would I do?”
“Gran, please. I’m sorry. But as you can see, I’m okay.”
“You’re sorry that I caught you,” she sighed and ran her hand down her face. “It’s late. Go to your room, I’ll speak to you in the morning.”
“But Gran-”
“Go!” She unfolded her arms to point up the stairs. “Wait!”
I paused on the first step.
Gran rushed into the kitchen. I could hear the banging of kitchen cupboards; the clinking of a glass being placed on the worktop. Moments later, she re-emerged, glass in hand.
“Take this drink with you and make sure it’s all gone before you sleep. All of it. Understand? Oh, and give me your phone.” Both arms stretched out to me, one grasping the glass the other upturned, expectant.
I opened my mouth to argue.
“Now, Riley.”
Reluctantly, I pulled it from my pocket, slyly knocking the screen to see if I had any missed calls or messages. My heart sank at the lack of notifications. I handed it over. How the hell was I supposed to contact Will and Kat now? Anything could have happened to them. I couldn’t think about it. I shuddered, shook the thoughts from my mind and climbed the stairs. Gran’s furious glare bore into my back all the way up.
I abandoned my bag and the glass in my room and headed to the bathroom. In the poor light, I examined the jagged cut across my palm, a slither of exposed flesh flanked by bright red flecks as though my hand was encrusted with rubies.
The wretched thing would leave a scar.
I washed it, scrubbing away the dirt and the blood. It was only after I’d changed into my pyjamas and fallen into bed with the sheets drawn up to my chin, I realised how much I trembled.
My ears thudded in the blackened silence, drowning out all other sound. I didn’t hear Gran go to bed. If she had gone to bed.
A horde of female spider demons scuttered across my mind as they had the forest floor. Then I allowed myself to think about him. My rescuer. I hadn’t asked his name, Gran would have had something to say about my terrible manners too. His face formed clear in my head. The tussle of dark hair kissing his broad shoulders. The thin white scar that cut through his full, bottom lip. My mind’s painting glazed over his eyes, I couldn’t do them justice. A photograph would have failed to capture the otherworldly beauty of them.
***
My alarm sounded at seven the next morning, hours after I’d woken. Sleep had been snatched away like my sanity had last night. I had tossed and turned all night, breaking off to sneak up to the window to make sure no demons were creeping up the shadow drenched lane.
In the brief moments I did sleep, arachnids and insects skittered across my body, pincers poised for attack and most strangely of all, a fluttering of wings covered in dark feathers.
I showered and dressed, a knot tightening in my stomach. Any other day, I’d get ready in a hurry so I could spend more time with Will and Kat. Today, the desire had drained away, and I wondered if the foreboding feeling was about having to face Gran or something else.
All was quiet downstairs. Dumping my school bag on the floor in the hallway, I hurried into the living room and switched on the TV. Perching on the edge of the sofa, I skipped through all the news channels for any mention of the demon attack, for anything out of the ordinary. Okay, so there wasn’t anything on the national news but maybe it hasn’t gone national yet. I checked the local news. Police were monitoring a certain deadly accident hotspot; a local vicar’s puppy had gone missing and a poll about piercing children’s ears.
“Watching the news? My, my, something must have happened last night,” Gran said appearing in the doorway. She arched a testing brow and pursed her lips.
“Morning,” I said sheepishly and pressed the power button on the remote. Following her into the kitchen, I found a plate of charcoal coloured toast and a glass of clear, popping liquid waiting for me. The same drink she gave me last night. God knows when she’d had time to make it.
“Eat your breakfast, I’ll be taking you this morning and make sure you drink all of that. I’m not being called irresponsible because you’re dehydrated at school.”
Her words were as sharp as a knife tip. I shivered as they ran down my spine. Pulling up a chair, I ate my breakfast and did my best to keep the throbbing wound on my hand out of Gran’s sight. I didn’t need any questions about that.
“Are you sure there is school today?” I lifted the glass up, my nose wrinkling at the strong smell of aniseed. It went straight back down on the table and I pushed it away with the tip of my finger.
“Why would there be no school?”
I nearly spat out the words ‘because of the huge spider demons’, but that didn’t seem like a good conversation starter. We’d begun our questions dance.
Gran stood square before me, so still, hands on hips. “Did something happen at the festival?”
“Have you heard something?” I asked idly.
She looked at me as though I’d told her the sky was made from custard. “No. Do you have something to tell me, Riley?”
I wanted to tell her but there was a gnawing in my gut that made me keep my mouth shut. I shook my head and finished my breakfast.
“Now that’s cleared up,” Gran narrowed her eyes at me. “Eat, then we can go.”
“You don’t have to take me. I’ll be fine-”
Gran spun on her heels, a black fury flashing behind rimless glasses “Don’t dare test me today, my girl. No arguments, nothing. You’ve got five minutes then I want you in that car.”
Things didn’t improve once we were in the car, the atmosphere hanging between us like a veil of frost.
“You’re grounded by the way.”
“Grounded? Gran, please! You can’t ground me! It’s the first time I’ve ever done anything like this…”
It could have been a trick of the light, but I’d swear Gran’s skin held a yellow tint, the white of her eye too. Pale yet noticeable.
“I’m aware of that but believe me when I say it will be the last. That Kathryn is a bad influence on you,” Gran stared ahead. Her 1964 mini struggled to swallow the road in front of us.
I hung my head low. “It’s not her fault, I decided to go.” One of the few truths I could tell her about last night. Despite Kat’s badgering, the decision to go had been mine.
Already whitened knuckles paled even more as Gran gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I don’t impose these rules just for the sake of it, Riley.”
“I know.”
“There are other people much stricter than me, I’m not being deliberately cruel. Do you realise anything could have happened?”
“I know,” I repeated, shuddering as I remembered how close those creatures had been. “It won’t happen again.”
“You’re damn right it won’t happen again, and you’re still grounded. Two weeks. I will take you and pick you up from school, you will have your tea and then you will go to your room. You can do your sixth form work and that’s it. Nothing else. No visitors. Am I understood?”
I wanted to argue or at least reason my way out of the grounding but one sharp glance from Gran shut me up. “Yes,” I said in my smallest voice.
“Good. Luckily for you, it’s the weekend so I have plenty for you to be getting on with. Oh and no phone.”
We travelled in silence the rest of the way, Gran’s heaving breathing reminding me each mile that she was as mad as hell. I even chastised my own breathing in case that pissed her off more. School offered a welcome escape. As the building came into view, I nearly jumped from the moving car before Gran pulled into the side of the street.
“Have a good day.”
I got out and slammed the car door.
Students already packed the halls. Most of them were huddled together around lockers, a rambunctious boom of voices filling the narrow space.
As someone who rarely drew attention, I could have dismissed the first couple of looks that came my way. A series of turning heads and whispering behind closed hands followed me down the halls.
Surely it wasn’t about me.
Not after last night.
But then as I dared to look at the faces of my classmates, I wondered why no-one seemed horrified. They’d all ran from the festival. They’d all seen them. No-one was talking about what happened.
“Hey Riley,” Norah Ellison called out. “Did you enjoy the festival last night?” The group sniggered.
What had I missed? I scurried past, keeping my head down. Securing my bag strap higher on my shoulder, I crossed my arms across my body determined to make it too my locker.
The sight of Kat gladdened my heart a little. She hurled a book inside her locker making it clamber against the metal interior. When she saw me, a huge grin broke out on her face.
“Well?” Kat asked as I hurried to her.
“Well what?” I kept my head down.
Kat shoved the last book into the metal void then slammed the door closed. “Is that how we’re playing it? OK, but I’m supposed to be your best friend.”
“You are my best friend.”
“In that case then,” Kat continued, still grinning. “Can you at least tell me why you were clinging on to the waist of an incredibly hot guy on the back of Devon Carver’s motorbike?”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
“Loads of people saw you. It’s all around school.”
“So that’s why people are looking at me strangely.” I double checked and yes, eyes were still flickering my way, the low hum of voices amplified. My cheeks burned.
“Kat swept her long fringe from her eyes. “You’ve always been the good girl, everyone is either shocked, don’t believe it or think you’ve made it up yourself. I covered for you, by the way, with Will. I told him it was absolute rubbish and I want a copy of your English homework as payment.”
“Yeah, fine. He was only helping me get away from the creatures. I couldn’t see you, Will or Simon anywhere. I didn’t know what to do.”
“What creatures?”
“The weird spider things that trashed the festival last night.”
Kat’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t drink from that bottle after we abandoned it on the grass, did you?”
“No-one spiked my drink.”
“There weren’t any creatures, Riley. Everyone left because the police arrived and told us all to bugger off because we were trespassing. No-one had bothered to get a permit to hold the festival on the land. But you’d know that because you were there.”
I staggered back a few steps. “That’s not what happened.” Had I dreamt it? Was it all in my head? No, I didn’t have the imagination for that.
“That is what happened,” Kat turned to the lockers lining the other side of the hall where another group, two girls and a boy huddled together, talking. “Hey Molly, can you come here a sec please?” Molly Adams was in my English class.
“Sure,” said Molly. “What’s up?”
“Can you tell Riley why everyone left the festival last night?”
Molly raised a dark eyebrow. “But she was there and left in quite some style I heard.”
“Humour us and what you’ve heard is wrong.” Kat winked at me.
I answered with a weak smile.
Molly huffed but confirmed Kat’s story. Someone had tipped off the police that alcohol was being served at an unlicensed event.
“So, you didn’t hop on Devon’s motorbike with some random then?”
Think of Will. “No, I didn’t.”
Molly shrugged disappointedly. “Shame. For a second I thought you were interesting.” With those words, she gathered her friends and walked away, flicking her long black curls.
“What a bitch!”
“Ignore her.” Kat hooked the strap of her bag over her head before linking her arm through mine. “Now, while I escort you to class, you may divulge all the tasty details of your moonlit ride through Derwent Forest.”
Turning to start heading to my first class, I went straight into another body. Fawn Underhill, a girl who lived on the eastern side of Valestone lay sprawled at my feet.
“Oh god, I’m sorry,” I muttered. My hand went out to help her up, but Kat batted it away.
“Don’t apologise to her. Are you blind Fawn or does your mass of unbrushed, unwashed hair restrict your view. I bet birds would reject it as a nest for their young.” Kat laughed.
Fawn’s eyes grew wide and I shifted on my feet.
“Come on, Riley.”
I bit my lip but followed.
When I dared to look back, Fawn had scrambled to her feet and was hurriedly gathering her things. Shame lapped at my face.
The bell sounded, its piercing ring placing me right back on that motorbike.
Demons. That’s the word he’d used. But why had no-one else seen them?
I prayed the day would go quickly and then I would have two whole days away from the place. By next week, all of this would be forgotten.
