‘I can’t believe that you’re still here’
she said as she looked up. John shrugged.
‘I could say the same
thing about you…’
Celia was sitting on
a wooden chair on the long patio area in front of the greenhouses. She spent a
long time sitting there watching the sun rise and fall, stroking Boo, and
feeding the wood doves that flocked across the gardens. John has sat with her for several days now,
reading, thinking and trying to talk to her.
It was hard work, but even though she still seemed adamant that she was
giving up witch-hood, he was still probing to find out what was really wrong.
They had discussed,
in a rather fragmentary manner, magic, the coven, Eth and its counties, the
High Lord and his sister, textiles and Rhylic folk music. John noticed that
during this time Celia had begun to cheer up. He wasn’t sure that she’d noticed
yet, and it wouldn’t have been sensible to point it out to her. This was yet
another thing that suggested she might be hiding something – it was hard for
her to stop her innately positive nature bobbing up from the depths every now
and then. She was no longer acting like
a worn out witch; it was more like she was pretending to be one.
‘The next time those ridiculous birds come
flying in I’m going to scare them off’ said John, standing as if on guard.
‘What have you got
against doves?’ murmured Celia.
‘Nothing – in fact
I’m rather fond of them – I like their cooing. I’m just trying to get a
reaction from you…’
‘Well, a few days
more and you won’t have to worry about me. I plan to move to my new home on
Thursday’
John changed his
stance; swivelling around to confront her.
‘Honestly, Celia,
this is getting a bit ridiculous’
‘Ridiculous or not,
I’m deadly serious’
‘Where, by the green
goddess, are you planning to go?’
Celia shook her head,
exasperated.
‘The whole point of
disappearing is that then no-one can find you…’
John folded his arms
– a dozen white doves flew down and began pecking around Celia’s chair.
‘We won’t let you go;
we’ll cast an imprisonment spell…’ He
stopped himself – this was an empty threat – she’d surely be able to get out of
any spell that he could cast.
‘I’m going, Mr President,
and no-one and nothing is going to stop me’
John had a sudden thought.
‘Why are you
disappearing, though?’
Celia looked puzzled.
‘Did I say,
“disappearing”?’
John nodded.
‘I meant to say
“retreating”…’
‘In which case’ said
John, brightly, ‘you won’t mind telling me where you’re going…’
‘No – I need to get
away completely. Make a clean break from everyone’
‘What, do you
honestly mean that? You want to get away from me and Bron and Katy and Owen?’
Celia didn’t reply,
but John noticed that she had reacted unexpectedly. She had been staring down
at Boo, who was curled up on her lap, but then had looked up suddenly when
Owen’s name was mentioned. This was becoming a pattern – every time that he
mentioned Owen she would respond and then very rapidly change the subject. He
had thought it odd before, as even he had noticed how close Celia and Owen had
become, but he had just put it down to her general depressive state of mind.
Now he wasn’t so sure.
John let the
conversation lapse and he waited just a minute of two before he began exploring
again. He watched Boo twitching in her
sleep. She hadn’t been awake for more than a few hours since she had absorbed
the massive firebolt of magical energy from Kratos in Monurbis. This was normal
though, apparently, she often slept for an age after a big meal.
‘So, what’s happening
to Boo? Who’ll look after her?’
Celia looked up, with
a bemused expression.
‘I hadn’t thought
about it, but I assumed she’d stay with me…’
John shook his head
emphatically.
‘Hybitor property –
far too useful to let an ex-witch hang on to it’
Celia frowned at him
– she knew him well enough to know that this was some sort of a ploy, but she
couldn’t yet work out what he might be getting at.
‘I think that will be
up to Boo to decide’ she said, cautiously.
‘Not necessarily. I’m
sure that Maf could find a way to negate the bond that you’ve formed’
Celia was being
dragged in, despite herself. This was nonsense.
‘It doesn’t work like
that’
‘I know’ said John,
‘Boo will pick the largest magical source, wherever that comes from…’
Celia stroked the
little tree-shrew and covered her ears.
‘Don’t be so rude –
you’ll hurt her feelings… and mine’
‘You’re the strongest
magical force she can find…’
Celia was now feeling
flustered. She knew that this was true, but she had never liked to think about
it. She didn’t want the power or, more importantly, the responsibility that
went with it. Now she got an inkling of
what John was attempting.
‘Well, I’m not sure about that’ she said
weakly, ‘there’s probably just some aspect of my aura that she particularly
likes…’
‘Yes, there is’
agreed John, ‘it’s your power’
Celia’s mouth set
into a thin line. She lifted her hands up as if to swat his words away. John
pressed on.
‘So, it’s interesting
that even though Boo sensed Kratos when he cast that giant Brydia spell and could have returned to him instead, she came
straight back to you’
She stared at
him. John could see that a cloud of
green energy was gathering around her head. It was seriously discomforting.
‘Perhaps it’s not as
simple as you think, John Ismay. Perhaps she just likes me more. I need you
stop talking about this now, I really do’
John shook his head
savagely. She got up to leave but he jumped up and grabbed her arm. She
struggled to break free.
‘So – we have every
reason to believe that you are the most powerful witch in Skiophos, and we know
that you are the only person who has
ever confronted Kratos and survived. And, you defeated him’
‘Stop John’ she
shouted, the green plasma began flowing down her body and over her hands, ‘you
have to stop!’
‘And you think we can
afford to let you give up? You think that I can accept the utter nonsense that
you’ve been spewing about being scared and burnt out. I can see your aura – if
you wanted to you could kill me with your brain’
She gasped and the
plasma flicked out. She stopped struggling. Her face was filled with
terror. Her voice was almost inaudible.
‘I never would…’
‘You have to stay and
help us kill that evil bastard’
Celia was in floods
of tears, her shoulders quaking with the effort. John had never before felt like
such a shit, but this had to be done.
‘You have to.’
‘But I can’t John, I just can’t’
The urge to comfort
his poor damaged friend was almost irresistible but he had to find out what was
wrong with her, and this seemed to be the only way. He forced himself to grip her arm even more
tightly. He leant forward and shouted very loudly in her face.
‘Why not? Stupid fool – why ever not?’
’He’ll kill Owen,
John – he’ll track him down and he’ll murder him’
John let go of
Celia’s arm. He took a step back. Cold sweat formed on his brow.
‘Owen? Why? Why would
he do that?’
Celia rocked on the
spot. John wondered if she was going to fall. Her words tumbled out all over
the neat slate squares.
‘Because I love him
and eventually Kratos will find out that I do and then he’ll kill him…’
John cleared his mind
sufficiently to see a way through all this chaos. Could this all be true? He
realised that it undoubtedly could. He forced himself to speak at about half of
Celia’s speed.
‘When you say “love”,
Celia, do you mean “in love”’?
Celia nodded
miserably, but John could see that she was no longer weeping.
‘So, you’re in love
with Owen? And so all those rumours were true?’
Celia opened her
hands and they were empty.
‘They weren’t then…’
she started, ‘well, they were but I didn’t realise… it just sort of crept up on
me…’
John was delighted –
now some of this made perfect sense. He always liked it when the fragments of
life fell together into a roughly recognisable shape. One pressing question
remained, though.
‘And does he love you
back? Please say that he does’
Celia managed a
combination of a shrug and a head shake.
‘How could he?’ she
said, ‘I’m too tall and too awkward and too posh and I know nothing about
love…’
John put his finger
to his lips. ‘Shush, witch’ he said softly, ‘now is not the time for all of
that nonsense. And anyway, just to let you know– no-one really knows anything
about love’
She quietened but the
look of terror had not once left her face.
‘He said that he’d
seek out the one that I love most and destroy him’
John focused his
whirling mind back on the most important factors.
‘Oh no’ he said,
‘that’s dreadful…’
He waited for a
second. Celia looked at him pleadingly.
‘However – all is not
lost, of course’ he said, rather breezily.
‘What?’
‘He’s clearly not
found him yet and so he clearly hasn’t yet found out who you love the most…’
John smiled, ‘…and now it all makes sense’
‘What does?’
‘Your sudden bout of
insanity; your subsequently bonkers behaviour; and your utterly mad plan’
John moved forward to
embrace her. They both felt deflated by relief. She began to sob again, but
this time in a more controlled way. Her voice was muffled by being transmitted
through his shoulder.
‘What should I do?’
she asked.
John reached down to
squeeze her hand.
‘Go and tell him that
you love him, you silly fool – what else can
you do?’
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