Pyre - A Novelette Featuring the Avebury Witches

Chapter 10

"Take your place at the horse stone," Keeper Pansy said and pointed to the rock that had always been Rosy's secret favourite. From a distance, with a bit of goodwill, it almost looked like the head of a giant steed. Like an over-sized chess piece the ancient stone waited for her among the flattened grass.

It was placed just a few steps outside the circle formed by humans and stones and even further away from the group of Keepers who still observed her with that unnerving quietness of theirs.

Rosy swallowed. Suddenly, she didn't want to leave the sweaty safety of the circle, be out there all on her own. Out there, where the frozen figures of the witch hunters still loomed. How would she make her escape when the others were gone?

"That spell won't break for quite a while," said Keeper Colin tilting his head at the frozen shapes "When it does, they will find the village empty."

Her head strangely devoid of thoughts, her fingers numb and her heart thundering in her chest, Rosy walked towards the standing stone. As she broke through the circle, she felt a tingling, a burning sensation, then it was gone. And what had been a world caught in greys suddenly became colourful again.

But it was quiet. Completely and utterly still. Above her, birds had got caught in the spell and were pinned to the sparkling blue skies. A butterfly hovered above the stone, ready to land but never getting close. Rosy whirled around to face the stone circle.

It was empty.

The shock hit her like a blow to the stomach. This wasn't possible. They had to be there, she knew they were there, she felt their magic still tingling through her body. It reached towards the ring like an invisible umbilicus tethering her to the other White Wardens. Some of the stronger familiars had learned to become invisible and granted that gift to their masters. But to hide a group of people, their belongings, their animals in plain view was a masterly execution of their craft. How many skylles did that take to accomplish? How long would the Keepers be able to maintain the illusion?

As if in answer, the air begin to shimmer around her, taking on just the faintest tinge of emerald and bringing with it a strangely metallic odour.

The Keepers had started the final ritual, were opening the portal. For a moment, a short moment only, she felt cheated. But she didn't care for their escape, did she? So better not to see where they were going and what they were doing. They would call upon her soon enough if they needed her to follow.

Wind whispered past the stone, blessedly cool it stirred the sodden strands of her hair, and soothed her flushed brow. The breeze was blowing straight from the circle, ruffling her clothes. With it came a strange tugging on her chest, a pressure, not unpleasant at first, but increasing as if something invisible had latched on and was sucking, draining, taking something away from her. Something that was hers for only a short while anyway.

Youth.

Somewhere behind her, she heard the thump, thump of running feet getting closer. The footfall was spaced in unusual intervals, as if somebody was fighting his way through treacle. So, she hadn't been wrong when she spotted that one figure turning against the tide. It was impossible, though, how could anybody break the Keepers' spell. Obviously that person was no witch hunter, then. But who else could it be? Was one of the Red Wardens suicidal enough to return? The tread was heavy, had to be a man's. Not her brother, then. Her father? But he had his family to protect. It could only be . . .

"Rosy?" Bill's voice was high pitched with worry as he rounded the stone and stopped on her right, panting.

"Don't get any closer," she gasped.