Chapter ten

Kinspit

 

The conversation had been going for twenty minutes and it really wasn’t getting anywhere. John was staring into the area inside the pentangle trying to see Gwyneth clearly. Although it had started out dry in the Forest it was an increasingly drizzly day and her umbrella kept getting in the way.

‘…which means it could be anyone’ she said

‘Anyone could have set up a splinter CRS group, you mean?’ asked John

‘Yes – all we know about them is their name and that they have Macrocephalos’

‘True’ nodded John, ‘although from what Laurence said, it looked like the mage was with them willingly and that the CRS were trying to kidnap him. And also, if they are a splinter group then they are a lot more pleasant than the legitimate CRS – that Braith woman saved Laurence’s life…’

‘Possibly, but that could just be coincidental; anyway, we’ll put feelers out. It may be time to send Laurence out on another little job. I suggest a trawl round some more of the western pubs might reveal a few interesting things…’

The umbrella tipped forward again, so that, fortuitously, Gwyneth failed to see John’s reaction.

‘We can’t’ he said, firmly, but in a rather hollow voice.

Gwyneth shut the umbrella suddenly, even though it was still raining. She peered through the haze at her leader.

‘What on earth do you mean by that?’

‘He’s working to rule…’

‘As I said – what are you talking about?’

‘He’s refusing to do anything for the council outside Kinspit. He’s had enough, Gwyn, and I can hardly blame him’

‘And you let him get away with that? Does he have any idea how useful he is to us?’

‘I don’t think that that is the most prominent concern in his mind at present…’

Gwyneth snorted.

‘Well, if anyone is blame for this it’s clearly you’

‘What?’

‘You don’t know how to handle him properly’

John was briefly speechless. Gwyneth waited, irritably brushing her dampening red hair from her face.

‘Oh no’ he finally said, ‘I’m not going to let you blame me for this. We’re all equally responsible – we assumed that he would go on doing our will for ever’

‘Well he is a servant’ said, Gwyneth, dryly

‘And that’s exactly what he’s trying to be, but not for the whole damn coven… Even he can’t be stretched that thin. Just leave him be for a while’

‘It depends how long you think “a while” is, John’

John was getting so angry that he was briefly tempted to smudge out a corner of his pentangle and shut Gwyneth up.   

‘This is my household problem, not yours – I respectfully suggest, and request, therefore, that you keep out of it…’

Gwyneth looked briefly irritated, but then she shrugged and looked up at the sky. She clearly didn’t want to be out in the rain for very much longer.

‘Well, you sort it out then – but do it quickly: we’ll be seriously debilitated without Laurence’

John shook his head. He had been expecting this reaction, but just because he knew that it was coming didn’t make it any more welcome.  Also, Gwyneth would be the last person to realise that some things took time to put right.

‘So… we may have to send Myfanwy to nose around’ she grumbled. The ‘of all people’ was unsaid, but very clear.

John was determined to end this bit of the conversation.

‘Anyway…’ he said, making the word roll on for as long as he could, ‘…right back at the beginning of this chat you said you had something to ask me…’    

Gwyneth had the decency to look very slightly shamefaced – she fully realised that now was not the best time to be asking for a favour.

 ‘It’s not me, actually, it’s really Bronwyn who wanted me to say something…’ she said, rather unconvincingly.

‘About what?’

John was beginning to enjoy the sight of the increasingly bedraggled twin getting wetter and wetter. He knew very well that she wouldn’t be out there in that weather unless it was something important.

‘Celia – Bron is worried about her’

‘If so, why are you talking to me?’ 

Gwyneth looked suddenly flustered. This was the look that came over her every time that any personal problems came up. John’s mood began to lift as Gwyneth’s discomfort grew. .

‘Umm… because we think that you should talk to her’

John knew that Celia had been physically exhausted after her duel with Kratos, but that was months ago now.  He felt a bit bad that he hadn’t paid more attention to how she’d been.

‘Where is she?’

‘She’s still here, moping about the woodlands – she hardly ever comes in to eat. It’s very distracting knowing she’s wandering around in a state…’

‘What?’

Gwyneth lowered her voice and stuck her head right into the pentangle. Her wet head loomed.

‘To be honest with you, John, I think she’s lost it…’

The pit of John’s stomach suddenly burned. He always relied on Celia to be there, strong and steadfast, in fact, just like Laurence. He really couldn’t have both of them suddenly going wonky.

 ‘Lost it?’ he said, ‘what do you mean by that?’

Gwyneth shook her head and frowned deeply.

‘She says she’s going to leave the coven, and that she’ll do no more magic. She’s says she’s lost her nerve and that she’s not up to magic at that level’

John thought about this for a second or two.

‘Are you sure she said that?’

Gwyneth nodded very definitely.

‘Bronwyn says that she has announced that several times and quite emphatically’

John smiled bleakly.

‘She’s lying’

‘What?’

 ‘I don’t believe a word of it. You know that she’s the strongest witch in the coven – that’s why we had no doubt that she should take on Kratos. And she may be self-effacing but deep down she knows exactly what to do’

‘Really? She always seems full of self-doubts to me. I’ve always found it rather irritating…’

‘Take my word for it, Gwyn; something else is going on here. Could she have been cursed?’

‘Possibly, but I can’t see anything’

Her voice became far softer; there was a note of uncertainty in it.

‘Perhaps if you came and checked her out…?’

John sighed, very loudly and very obviously.

‘So, this is your way of asking me for a favour, is it?’ 

Gwyneth took a step backwards so that her face no longer filled his field of view. She shivered.

 ‘Not at all, Mr President’ she said, briskly, ‘I’m just asking you to do your job’

The skies around her opened and the rain came tumbling down even harder.

‘I’m going indoors’ she said, glaring at the sky and then back at him ‘we’ll look out for you in the morning, shall we?’

There was a blur as she cut off the connection with her foot.

John stepped back and began to rub out the chalk circle with a cloth. His mind was crowded with worries, but at least he was still dry.