Here Be Witches Read online

  OK, I decide. I’m not even going to try and understand what’s going on. I am going to forget about wolves and tombstones and blackened hearts and witches. It’s all absolute rubbish and nonsense anyway. I’ve probably been listening to Granny Jones for far too long. And now I’m where I’ve always wanted to be: out on the mountain with Henry.

  As we lie there, staring up into the blue yonder, behind us, over the peak of the mountain, a dark cloud starts to form. I look at it puzzled. In its centre something dark and massive is swelling.

  ‘Do you think it’s going to rain?’ I ask.

  ‘That’s not a raincloud,’ he says.

  ‘It doesn’t look very friendly,’ I say.

  ‘It isn’t.’

  I just lie there. I’m not going to think about it. I’m not going to leave this place. I’m going to stay here forever, in this long sunny afternoon, holding hands with Henry and lying on the heather. I don’t care about dark clouds glowering over the summit of Mount Snowdon. I don’t care what they mean. I don’t care that I should not be here.

  I just don’t care.

  I don’t care about anything right now; my heart is bursting with happiness.

  And I realise how much it has been aching. Just to be here. Just to be alive. Just to know Henry is close by.

  ‘You know, of course, we can’t stay,’ says Henry.

  I didn’t suppose that we could. But I didn’t suppose anything. I don’t want to think about anything. In fact, I say as much.

  ‘This is the place in-between,’ says Henry.

  I sigh. ‘OK,’ I say. ‘The place in-between what?’

  ‘Well,’ says Henry, ‘I can’t actually say what is outside or surrounding this place, I only know that this is the place in-between.’

  I don’t care where it is. I’m here with Henry. I raise up his hand and kiss the back of his fingers.

  ‘Perhaps in-between Now and Then, in-between What Is and What Is Not, in-between what Might Be and What Might Not Be. It’s hard to say.’

  ‘Can’t we stay here?’ I ask.

  ‘No,’ says Henry.

  ‘Why not? What happens if we do?’

  ‘Bad things.’

  ‘Like?’ I say.

  ‘You can’t just ignore the rest of the world. If you do, anything can happen to all the people you care about back there.’

  I sigh.

  ‘Am I their shepherd, then?’

  Henry squeezes my hand. ‘Look how you felt about your lambs,’ he says. ‘You have to be the shepherd.’

  I sigh again. It hurts. I don’t want to think about the lambs. I don’t want to be a shepherd. I don’t want to have to take care of anything right now. I want to lie here on the heather with the sweet smell of the mountain, and the sun warm above me. I want to lie next to Henry and listen to the songbirds, why should I have to do anything else?

  ‘And because everything is wrong,’ says Henry. ‘And not how it should be.’

  ‘Why not?’ I ask.

  ‘You ask too many questions,’ smiles Henry and suddenly he puts his arm around me and pulls me close and squeezes me.

  He kisses me.

  I kiss him back. With all the longing and the wanting and the waiting that’s been bottled up inside me.

  My heart pounds.

  His heart pounds.

  I take a deep breath, bite my lip.

  ‘OK,’ I say.‘What have I got to go and do?’

  ‘Right now,’ says Henry, ‘you are in the most dangerous place you can possibly be. It is evening on the first day of March and you are under the Black Stone looking into a witch’s mirror. You have to go back and get out of there.’

  A shiver runs through me. ‘OK,’ I say. ‘And where are you right now?’

  ‘I am flying through the heavens,’ says Henry, his voice fading a little. ‘I am winging my way towards the great constellation of Draco.’

  ‘What the heck are you doing that for?’ I say. ‘I need you here. We all need you. Something has gone wrong. Did you know the witches broke open your cave at Dinas Emrys – and laid a spell on Snowdonia?’

  ‘I know,’ he says. ‘It was they who cursed me.’

  ‘Cursed you?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘When one of their number died upon the crystals, it broke the High Magick of Merlin. Oswald meant that to happen, so he could return as a man, or as a dragon whenever he wished. He sent his thoughts out from under the mountain and made his followers prepare the spell. I couldn’t stop him. The thoughts of dragons are their own, though I knew what he was up to. He twisted the magic of Draco, so that when a girl was sacrificed to his heart, he had power. I have never twisted the magic, but the sacrifice landed on my heart too.’

  He pauses, draws in his breath, seems to grit his teeth.

  ‘My crystal killed the girl as well, and now my heart is forever tainted.’

  Oh my God.

  Of course.

  Poor, poor Henry.

  That’s it.

  That’s why his heart is blackened and shrivelled.

  He inhales sharply. ‘My heart is now turned to stone, I am cast out from Earth and must go to the great afterlife of dragons in the sky, where I will join my maker, the great dragon Draco, and start my penance – as a single pinprick of light in his constellation.’

  He pulls me closer, wraps me in his arms. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispers.

  I don’t understand. I won’t understand. And I don’t answer. I don’t let it sink in at all. I don’t want to feel what this means. I don’t want to ask any more questions. I don’t want to say, ‘But how can there be a Wales without the Red Dragon?’

  Or:

  ‘Who will save us from Oswald?

  Or:

  ‘How can I live without even the hope of seeing you again? Even if I am like, old?’

  I look up at the blue sky. I’m going to stay here. I’m not going to accept what he’s told me.

  ‘All this is true Ellie,’ he sighs, ‘even if you do not want to hear it.’

  Up overhead, the huge grey cloud is rolling in.

  Oh my soul.

  ‘OK,’ I say. ‘But I’ve retrieved your heart. I got it out from under the Black Stone. Just tell me what to do and I will restore it. If one girl’s blood can taint it, then perhaps another girl’s blood can purify it?’

  ‘Would you really do that for me?’ he asks quickly.

  I give him a good punch in his ribs. Stupid question.

  The cloud has completely covered the summit now. It’s reaching out, casting its shadow down over the slopes towards us.

  ‘We haven’t got much longer,’ says Henry.

  ‘What do I have to do?’ I ask.

  ‘You will have to talk to Draco.’

  Talk to Draco? How? Um, considering he is a constellation of stars like, one billion zillion miles away.

  The grey cloud reaches us. Its shadows, dark like a raven’s wing, start to swallow the heather around us. Henry’s hand on mine grows tight.

  ‘You can help, Ellie,’ he calls. ‘If only you are brave enough … ’

  Stupid him. Of course I’m brave enough.

  ‘If you are brave and true in heart, nothing will hurt you … ’

  His voice suddenly sounds faint. The shadow floods nearer.

  ‘Henry!’ I scream.

  He’s fading.

  ‘Find the Stargazer,’ he calls. His voice, fainter: ‘And then … we need to talk about us … sooner rather than later … ’

  Talk about us? My hearts beats unevenly.

  ‘Find the one who can talk to the stars … ask him to beg Draco to release me … so I can help repair the damage the witches have caused.’

  I try and think: talk about us in a good way?

  The cloud sends tentacles out across the grass. I sit up abruptly.

  Or talk about us in a bad way?

  Like, no us.

  Henry?

  Henry is fading so rapidly there is only the sensation of
his hand in mine.

  And all around me is just the night-time, the icy cold, and a feeling like my insides have been sucked out.

  ‘Henry?’ I cry.

  I feel a strong grip on my arm. I feel my hand being opened, as if somebody is prising that last sensation of Henry away from me.

  And I hear a voice.

  ‘Ellie,’ it says. ‘Let go of the mirror.’

  My fingers are bent open and Henry’s hand is wrenched from mine.

  And suddenly I am back under the tombstone with George.

  George has torn the mirror from my grasp.

  ‘Noooooo!’ I scream.

  TWENTY

  ELLIE’S PHONE 1 March 19.16

  Status: ……

  … no signal … no signal … no signal …

  Recent updates:

  Pending…

  …

  Sheila

  It’s WAR then TOTAL OUTRIGHT WAR!!!!!!!!

  SO PREPARE YOURSELF YOU MINGER.

  MWAHAHAHA

  George holds the mirror out of my reach.

  ‘We need to hurry,’ Davey says. ‘The wolves may return.’

  ‘Please,’ I say, reaching for the mirror. ‘Please George. You don’t understand. We need to find the Stargazer and … ’

  But George just holds it way out of my grasp. ‘Come on,’ he says, ‘all we need to do is get out of here. You just went really weird, for your information.’

  ‘Once they have spoken with their master, they will no longer fear me,’ says Davey.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ says Rhi.

  ‘What master?’ says George.

  ‘I don’t know … I can’t remember … ’ says Davey obscurely, ‘but they have a master … they must have a master.’

  ‘They’re wolves,’ says George, ‘not hounds.’

  I want to scream. I don’t care if the wolves have a master or not. I want the mirror. I want to get back to that hillside. I want to be once again in the endless sunshine of that long afternoon. Forever with Henry on the heather …

  But it’s gone.

  And I can’t get back.

  I remember the cloud reaching out, covering us. I shudder.

  ‘I’m so cold,’ I say.

  ‘There is something I’m supposed to remember,’ says Davey. He strokes at his beard in a worried way. ‘Something I’m supposed to do … ’

  ‘We need to get out from under this stone,’ yells George. He literally grabs my arm and hauls me out on to the freezing mountainside.

  We walk a few yards downhill. Rhiannon crawls out and hops on her one booted foot. Davey follows. He catches her elbow. She leans on him. I think she’s worried about the wolves. I hear her say, ‘But why? Why won’t they be afraid of you?’ I can’t catch what he says.

  ‘I’m so cold,’ I say again, shivering.

  ‘Well,’ says George, ‘just say the word and I’ll warm you up. You won’t need a coat either.’

  Rhiannon overhears. ‘And me too, George,’ she wails. And with a few determined hops she catches us up. For a girl with one boot, she can’t half move fast when she wants to.

  In answer, George links one arm through mine and one through Rhiannon’s. ‘Lean on me, Rhi,’ he says. He yells at Davey: ‘C’mon, give us a hand!’

  And we all march down the hillside, as quickly as we can, half carrying Rhiannon, over the frozen heather, away from the Black Stone, and back towards the farmhouse.

  Ceri races ahead, her tail tucked firmly between her legs. Henry was right. This must be just about the most dangerous and stupidest place to be.

  ‘I’m seriously and majorly going to need cuddles when we get to the Land Rover,’ Rhiannon reminds George.

  He glances back up the mountain. ‘Right now, an invigorating hop is the best way to warm you up,’ says George. He hauls Rhi half up on to his shoulder and quickens the pace.

  And for once he’s not laughing, or flirting or trying to make anyone feel better.

  ‘Until we are all safe at Gran’s, this is the closest you’re gonna get to any cuddles, Rhi.’ And with that, George tightens his grip around Rhiannon and urges everyone on downhill.

  TWENTY-ONE

  ELLIE’S PHONE 1 March 20.05

  Status: Cold

  Recent updates between Ellie and Sheila:

  Ellie

  Hi – I wasn’t ignoring you – just everything got a bit manic, and I was up on the mountain.

  Sheila

  Doing what?

  Ellie

  Oh you know. Just the usual. A spot of magic. Digging around under old dolmens and breaking witches’ curses. That sort of thing.

  Sheila

  LOL you are so funny.

  Ellie

  Best friends?

  Sheila

  Best Frenemies! You old witch.

  See what I mean about Sheila. Even when you try to be nice, she is a cow can’t help herself.

  Holy smoke, but it was soooo good to be back in the Land Rover.

  And even better when we got to Granny Jones’s place.

  Everywhere was so neat and warm and lovely. And ooooh the smell of food. All delicious and scrummy and wafting everywhere in her tiny cottage.

  I’d forgotten how hungry I was. Crispy bacon, sizzling sausages, bread toasting: breakfast at supper time, with slices of ham and endless pickles and potatoes and veggies and thick wedges of cheese. Gran calls it ‘high tea’ and it’s totally yumptious!

  ‘Hungry, I expect,’ she calls out from the kitchen, as we take off our coats. ‘I’m so relieved you’re here. Just going to top up the kettle.’

  Welsh cakes, flat, brilliant with little currants in them, beam up at us; plates sport eggs – hard boiled and fried sunny side up. Mushrooms, so fresh, as if she’d just picked them – juicy and tender. And in the centre of the table a humongous Victoria sponge cake. Oh My God, I just love Gran’s high tea!

  Gran comes through from the kitchen with the tea tray in her hands. She’s wearing an outlandish tasselled shawl and a long Indian cotton skirt.

  And then she sees Davey.

  I’m not quite sure exactly what happens. Maybe she trips over the tassels on her shawl, or the fringed hem of the skirt – but – yikes and – C-R-A-S-H. The tea tray drops, smashes on to the flagstones. And hot tea sprays everywhere.

  ‘OH MY LORD!’ Gran cries in a squeaky voice. Her hands fly to her face. Splashes of tea dribble down the wall. Gran drops to her knees. ‘Oh forgive me!’ she says. She bends her head and seems to be groping around for broken china. Then she clasps her hands together in a really bonkers way, as if she isn’t kneeling on the floor to pick up shattered crockery at all, but as if (improbably) she’s actually in chapel, kneeling before God.

  ‘Oh my Lord!’ she says again, as she struggles up. Then she bolts to the kitchen.

  George grabs tea towels, kitchen roll and some pyjama bottoms (which are handily drying by the fire). He hastily soaks up the liquid mess of cooling tea, scones and soggy toast. He calls out, ‘Don’t worry Nan! It’s only a bit of tea. It’ll really improve the flavour of the scones. Tea on toast – smashing!’

  Steam rises from the flagstones. Davey stands there with a puzzled look on his face. He takes a step forward and calls out, ‘We must find the Stargazer, Mother Jones, can you help us?’

  Like, ran-dom.

  ‘Yes! Find the Stargazer,’ Gran repeats in a majorly mental way from the depths of the larder.

  Then I remember where I heard those words last. ‘Find the Stargazer.’

  And I am back on an impossibly beautiful mountainside, lying in the sun of an afternoon that never ends …

  ‘Find the one who can talk to the stars … ask him to beg Draco to release me … so I can help repair the damage the witches have done.’

  ‘George,’ I say, ‘please can I have the mirror.’ If there’s any way I can get back to that in-between place, I’m going to find it.

  Surprisingly, George just hands it over.

 
; Gran comes back from the kitchen. She carries a B&Q bag from which bits of DIY stuff protrude. She composes herself, sweeps strands of grey hair from her face, breathes out a long rush of air and says, ‘Oh dear, what a waste of Earl Grey. Now, tell me everything. And where did he come from?’ she waves a hand in an embarrassed flutter in Davey’s direction.

  ‘The Devil’s Bridge,’ says George. ‘Actually, the Black Stone. That’s where we found him. Or rather he found us.’

  ‘And what brings you to Snowdon, young man?’ she enquires.

  ‘He’s lost his memory,’ says George. ‘I said he’d be OK to stay with us. Rhi too. It’s not safe for them to go out there again, Nan. It is OK, isn’t it?’

  ‘I’m not sure why I’m here,’ says Davey, ‘but I definitely had a mission … ’

  ‘Yes, of course you must stay,’ says Gran directly to Davey. ‘Tis a blessing unlooked for. You can help to break this cursed spell.’ Gran looks relieved. ‘It’s the first piece of good luck we’ve had. Meeting someone called Davey on St David’s Day. The Lord’s blessing.’

  ‘So I should stay and assist you in your undertaking?’ asks Davey. ‘Though I cannot remember a lot, I feel I have much knowledge about the sacred myths of Wales, which may be of use.’

  ‘Could be,’ I say, daring myself to look into the mirror.

  ‘And I’ve nowhere else to go,’ he adds rather sadly.

  ‘But shouldn’t you see a doctor?’ says Rhiannon. ‘Maybe you’ve got concussion.’

  ‘Rhiannon,’ says Gran quite sharply, ‘have you looked out of the window? Do you know where we are? Can you imagine how long it will take us to get into Caernarfon?’

  ‘Well, we could ring 111?’ Rhiannon suggests.

  ‘Go ahead,’ says Gran. ‘They will tell you, that for concussion, you need to apply cold compresses, reduce the swelling, check for bleeding and then rest with paracetamol. We don’t need to drive to Caernarfon to be told that.’