The Warlock (The Cave Chronicles #1)

2: The Heathen of Lockview Village

There are plenty of legends about the founding of Lockview Village. Some say that God reserved the place for worthy followers, putting them through trials and only allowing the elite to stay. Others say that the Lockviewians simply appeared, springing up from the ground like burst water mains. A few more tell of a more plausible story: a group of devout worshippers toured the country for a place to settle. The group went to the cities first, but the were horrified by the revelry, so they fled to the countryside in fear and shame. They eventually locked themselves away in the fells of Cumbria, founding Lockview Village, aptly named due of their act of self-exile, and decided never to venture to the outside world again. The modern-day Lockviewians maintained their piety and made sure to keep outside associations to a minimum, waiting for the day when they would be taken to the clouds. 

It was home to the saints. The pristine houses, neat lawns and clipped shrubs were testimony to the old adage 'cleanliness is godliness'. The Lockview Church stood proud at the centre, its spire towering over the rooftops, shining like a beacon for all pilgrims to see. An oak tree border – nicknamed the Holy Borders to outsiders – surrounded it, locking out all the darkness and evil elements of the world. The villagers wore pretty, plain clothes and tread the earth in plimsolls and pumps. Hairstyles were usually well kept and styled with several pins to keep quiffs and buns in place.

They didn't take well to those who went against the tide, to black sheep, to detractors – which meant they didn't like Penny Dido Sloan.

She walked down the cobbled street with a dark cloud trailing in her wake. Penny Sloan decked herself in black, from the velvet beret that crowned her head, to her shocking stiletto nails, to the platform New Rock boots on her feet. Her room was black and all her horror novels were encased in black leather. She was an embarrassment to Richard and Caroline Sloan, who had adopted her when she was three years old and living in a decrepit and almost abandoned orphanage in London, but they prayed and hoped that she would change one day.

As she was so immersed in her tenth reading of Dracula, she didn't see Courtney Cowell until it was too late, by which time she was on her bottom in a puddle, her school bag dropping beside her with a loud thud. Penny narrowed her eyes at the six-foot menace and grabbed her bag before getting to her feet.

"Oops," said Courtney. "Didn't see you there."

"That's all right," said Penny. "It's understandable, really, what with you being so fat and all."

The smirk slipped from Courtney's face like water.

"You know, I'm surprised you're able to joke like that. You weren't so brave yesterday. Yeah, I saw you," she added, at Penny's frown, "running in here from the tree border, cradling all those spell books."

"They're not spell books."

"Sure. We all know you're just a little witch who was abandoned. You're such a loser. I'm surprised your parents haven't taken you back; got a refund. I know I would have."

She turned on her heel and went back the way she came, walking haughtily along the path towards the bleak schoolhouse. Penny scowled after her. She had been buying more horror novels from the other side of the Holy Borders, and had had to hide them because her parents had forbidden her to read them. She didn't understand why; they had all been bought with her earnings, ever since her parents had stopped her pocket money a year ago. She now worked at T. Rex Records in the town and was very proud of her independence.