Annaldra

’Fin, Fin, Finley!’ Ann shouted frantically knocking his door. The sun had set two hours ago, which meant two harrowing hours of darkness and possibly deaths; deaths she could now prevent. Well, in the village at least, but only with Finley’s help. He hated her and was refusing to talk to her, but she had to make him listen—make him believe. It would take some convincing though knowing how crazy it sounded.

‘I need your help. It’s about the shadow deaths,’ she pleaded when he eventually opened the door.

‘You need my help. Why? Has someone died?’ His tense, worried face spoke volumes. She could see how scared and confused he was by the events of the previous night.

‘No,’ she shook her head. ’But I know what’s happening and we need to do something…please, Fin. I know how to save people.’

Finley’s helplessness overwhelmed him. He had seen the news that morning, and it had continued on all channels, all day. It was the stuff of nightmares. Millions of people around the globe had died suddenly, and with no obvious cause. People from all generations just dropping dead. The world was in pandemonium. Everyone was terrified. Then his phone had rung, the postmaster was dead. His own mother had foreseen his death, and even with his doubts, he had chosen not to believe her. He had died in his sleep, a fit young man in his early thirties with a young family to support, dead. It brought it home; it was not other people’s news. It was theirs; it was happening in their community.

’You can help, how exactly?’His tone was sarcastic, though more angry than mocking. ‘Something is killing people the world over, and you think you can help when the experts know nothing. Go away, you silly lassie and stop wasting my time. I’ve warned you already to keep away,’ he snapped slamming the door as he spoke. Quick as lightning, Ann stuck her foot in the gap preventing it from shutting.

‘Okay,’ she spoke through the gap, keeping her foot firmly in place. ‘I will go away and never bother you again if you will trust me for one minute. If you don’t, I will stay here and keep bothering you until you listen. Please, one minute is all I ask.’

Finley’s cold eyes darkened as he glared at her. He hated her. She could almost smell his seething resentment of her. It was too much; tears filled her eyes and her chin began to tremor. ‘Please, Fin, you will die, everyone will die if you don’t listen. I can save people.’

Opening the door wider, Finley sighed deeply in obvious annoyance. ‘All right,’ he agreed. ‘You have one minute, Annaldra. Then I want you to leave. Not a second more.’

‘Okay,’ she nodded. ‘But can we go inside?’

‘No.’ His cold eyes drilled into her. ‘Whatever it is, here will be just fine.’

Ann’s spirit sank, but she was glad the manse was behind the church, out of sight of the road where no one would see them.

‘Okay,’ she nodded as she rummaged in her pocket looking for their locks of hair. ‘I know what you think I did, but I didn’t do anything. Donald and I are only friends. He was helping me because I was hurt.’

Finley screwed up his face as a look of loathing spread across it. ‘What, are you for real?’ he retorted with a shake of his head. ‘I have far more important things on my mind than you and Donald!’

‘I know you have, but things will become clear in a minute,’ she said, although she had no idea whether they would or not. She had never tried her telepathic abilities on a human before, but she had the additional advantage of having a physical link to Finley’s past life. Used together, he would surely feel something.

‘Please hold out your hand.’ Taking his left hand, he eyed her warily as she placed the locks of their hair in it. ‘Please shut your eyes, just for one minute and relax.’

Huffing reluctantly, he shut his eyes. She suspected he was only going along with it to get rid of her, but what did it matter, so long as he was giving her the chance to try. Ann placed her left hand around his and guided them towards his heart. Drawing in a deep breath, she closed her eyes. This has to work, was her last thought before opening the floodgates and allowing herself to fill with the memories, the emotions and images of her life with Swain.

She warmed, glowing inside as the happiness and the love they shared flowed through her like warm rivers of honey as the memories returned, playing out in her mind’s-eye and being felt in her heart. She recalled affectionate moments, how they walked through meadows hand-in-hand, blissfully happy, and how he picked her forget-me-nots and kissed her at sunset. Remembering how they had bathed in the ocean in the spring and summer months and sitting by the hearth at night talking or retelling tales they had heard from bards. Even everyday memories were happy; planting crops together, or how they would chase poultry around the yard desperately trying to catch a bird for supper, but usually could not for laughing, they always made a game of it. Then there were the intimate times, tender, but full of passion, with a desire for one another as strong and instinctive as the need to breathe. Even poignant memories she recalled; when Swain would leave for the market without her. The worry and loss she felt when parted from him, only for relief and joy like no other to sweep it away on his return.

Their life together had been so perfect and happy. They had just woken and Swain was cradling her pregnant belly. He was smiling at her, dappled sunlight twinkling through the shutters. She smiled back, glowing inside. He bent forward and kissed her stomach, ‘Perhaps, today will be the day, little one,’ he whispered to her belly, kissing it again. ‘We will finally meet you.’ Suddenly she pulled away, breaking the connection, as she remembered this exact moment. Her agonising labour had been about to take centre stage. It had started so suddenly with the searing pain in her abdomen, and the blood, so much blood. This was not a memory for sharing.

Opening her eyes, Finley’s motionless face was staring straight ahead with no expression. She could not be sure he even kept his eyes closed.

‘Did you not see? Did you not feel anything?’ she pleaded, her spirit sinking deeper and deeper with each word. Perhaps only I have the ability to recall past lives using a physical link. Perhaps my ability to communicate with animals using images and feelings does not work on people.

‘Please, Swain, tell me you saw?’ she begged as she shook him, but he remained fixed in his frozen stance, only rocking slightly from her force. ‘Tell me you felt something?’

It was too much. She flung her arms around him, buried her head in his chest, and sobbed, helplessness overwhelming her. Not only was all hope of saving the village lost, but her heart had shattered into a million shards, each one a stabbing reminder of her husband. He was gone completely. Swain was dead. She had believed part of him still existed somewhere inside Finley and had imagined his bond with her to be remnants of their past life. How wrong she had been.

Then, through her tearful convulsions, she thought she detected his body trembling, be it ever so slightly. She stilled, holding her quivering breath, to be sure. He was trembling—it was faint, but definite. His arms, that had until then, hung limp at his sides moved round her back, tightening, holding her closer. He was returning her embrace. She sniffed and looked up. His face remained in the same motionless position, but had turned ghostly pale, his eyes now bloodshot and watery.

‘Swain,’ she whispered, still not daring to hope.

Slowly he turned his head to look at her. Then, cupping her face in his hands he gazed at her, studying every inch of her face as though seeing her for the first time. ‘Eleanora,’ he whispered as tears fell from his eyes.

Ann squeezed her eyes shut and gulped down relief, before opening them, and looking into the depth of her husband’s eyes she smiled. ‘Hello again,’ she said in a small voice.

‘It is really you, my beautiful, beautiful, Eleanora. The Queen of my heart, I have found you,’ he whispered wiping a tear from her cheek. ‘I remember now, all of it. You died, Eleanora, you died, and I cursed my soul to never rest until we were reunited. I did it. I found you. I don’t know how I could have forgotten you. How I didn’t realise it was you. Please forgive me.’ Now he was Swain, her husband, and she was Eleanora his wife. In that moment, they alone existed in the universe and the universe existed only for them.

He pulled her close holding her tight against him. Sweet, sad joy filled her heart; he remembered her, and knew who they used to be. She had awakened him. Swain was alive.

She looked up at him half-smiling. ’I didn’t want to tell you, but I knew this was the only way you would listen. Now do you believe me? Nothing happened with Donald, he was helping me because I had hurt myself. I love you so much. I could never hurt you… Never.’ Sniffing she wiped the tears from her face.

‘I know. Of course I believe you.’ Taking both her hands, he took a step back. ‘You know you look different. I suppose we both do, but it is you, it is really you. I feel you. I can see you in your eyes.’

‘Please, Swain, first I need to know something. I was having our baby, but you said I died. I thought I probably did because the last thing I remember was the labour, but what of our child, what happened to our baby?’

A shadow darkened his face. ‘Our baby…’ he shook his head remembering. ‘You died before it was born.’ He heaved a sigh, his eyes heavy with sorrow. He could remember it now as though it were yesterday, how his world ended the day she died, the day their unborn child died. The moment her life had slipped away, his love for her turned to agonising pain torturing his soul. Why, why, why! Such tormented rage he had never before felt, blaming God he felt hatred as strong as the universe, hatred that consumed him. He screamed and wailed, out of control, but then from the depth of his despair a strange calm came over him. Still holding her lifeless body in his arms, he looked skyward, through the smoke hole in the thatched roof, the rays of the moon illuminating his tear soaked face. In that moment, with solemn resolution, he damned God, and cursed his soul to never rest until he found her again. As he uttered the final words of his curse, lightning struck their wooden hut. Peacefully he lay next to her as the flames engulfed their home… knowing the deal was made.

I did it, he thought releasing all the dark, negative feelings of that black day, allowing pure joy to fill his being. ‘I found you, Eleanora. We beat death.’

Looking into her eyes, he could see the grief of losing her baby was crushing her as if it had just happened. As tears filled her eyes, he took her in his arms and held her. ‘There, there, my angel,’ he whispered as he stroked her hair, tenderly kissing her forehead. ‘We are together again, nothing else matters.’

Nothing else matters! Nothing else matters! His words slapped her back to the present as the gravity of the current events hit her again. She pulled away from him, remembering why she told him.

‘Please, Swain, I mean, Fin,’ she laughed half nervously, wiping her wet face. ‘God, I don’t even know what to call you now. I need your help. I know what is happening. I know why people are dying.’

Finley’s stomach squirmed as he remembered the horrors of the previous night, but now the sadness, worry and fear were worse, far worse. How could he lose her again when he had just found her? They had triumphed over death, they were together again, and now he faced losing her. The powers that had brought them together would tear them apart.

Sensing his detachment from reality, Ann tried to compose herself. ‘Listen we are not Swain and Eleanora anymore. I am Ann or Annaldra and you are Finley. We are different now. We are not the same. Those people died,’ she said hoping he would not detect her deception.

Remembering, himself in the present, Elaine and Gracie filled his thoughts. What a mess. What a fuck’n mess, he said inwardly. He loved them both dearly. He had made a solemn commitment to Elaine, good and lovely Elaine, gracious and decent… and what of his beautiful daughter, baby Gracie whom he loved with all his heart? However, he was also Swain and here before him stood Eleanora, his world, the love his restless soul was destined to find. He could not deny how much stronger his feelings for her were, how real they were. There was no competition; Annaldra was his Siamese twin. Why had he not gone to find her when he was eighteen as he swore he would? When he had come home from school that dark day and discovered her gone, he swore on his life he would find her one day. Nothing would stop him, but instead he found God. Now everything made sense, the bond he felt for her; she was the missing piece of him.

‘Listen, Fin, I know why those people died last night. Everyone will die if we don’t do something. Last night was just the beginning. Many more will die tonight and the night after we all die,’ said Ann trying to sound rational.

Her words unnerved him. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand. What do you know? Let’s go inside, Elaine and Gracie are at her brother’s tonight.’

Finley put his hand against her back guiding her through to the living room. ‘Sit down, Eleanora, tell me what you know.’

‘Please, you can’t call me that. My name is Annaldra… I mean Ann. That’s who I am now.’ Her tone was firm, disguising her true feelings.

‘I’m sorry. I’ve missed you as Annaldra as well. All that anger, I wanted to push you away, to hurt you the way I thought you had hurt me. You’d think someone like me, would know better than to listen to village gossips.’

Ann could see it would not matter who she was, his love for her was so deep. She wanted to dance, to rejoice, to sing and tell the world, but inside a small part of her was also despairing. Forcing herself to refocus, she calmly reached over and held his hand. ‘Tunkeeta told Norlu,’ she said with great composure.

‘Norlu’s grandmother… the shaman woman?’

‘Yes,’ she nodded, ‘I know this will sound crazy, but it makes sense. The shadows are spirits, you know, like ghosts. They are the souls of evil people who have died. They have been trapped somewhere, not being permitted to cross over, but somehow they are now free.’ Ann stared at their clasped hands, not daring to meet his gaze for fear he would detect her guilt.

Finley laughed as he sighed. ‘They were in Purgatory. Is that what you are telling me?’

‘Maybe… I don’t know. I just know that wherever they were, they are now in our world.’

Finley wore a troubled expression as he scanned Ann’s face. Ann pulled her hands away and grasped her pendant thrusting it towards him. ‘This Fin, this pendent is an amulet. It can save us. It has power. Tunkeeta gave me it. It is for protection. We can use it to protect the village.’

Finley reached over and took the pendant; cupping it in his palm he eyed it critically. ‘How?’

‘At the church, on holy ground its power is amplified. We must get everyone to the church. If we place it in the centre we will be safe, the shadows won’t be able to touch us there.’ Ann could feel herself calming down. He was listening and seemed to be considering what she was telling him. ‘The people will listen to you. They will go to church if you ask. You can tell them at the service tomorrow morning.’

‘I pray you’re right,’ he said looking deep in her eyes as though still searching for the truth in what she was telling him.

‘According to Tunkeeta, we have nothing to worry about tonight. Last night, the shadows took the souls of evil people. Tonight they will take the souls of bad people and tomorrow night it will be everyone else who is not pure, which means almost everyone else. I don’t think we need to do anything until tomorrow.’

He nodded, but he looked to be only half listening, his mind somewhere else. ‘How did you make me remember, Annaldra?’ he said, ‘and the locks of our hair, where did they come from?’

Damn! Why did he have to ask that? Her mind raced, what to say—dare I tell him everything? She thought not, well not yet anyway, not until the evidence was in front of him when the gates opened. Then he would have no choice but to believe in other realms where gods dwelled, or if not gods, immortal beings whose nature was magik. Being a Christian minister, he must believe in miracles, and miracles were nothing more than magik guised as religion. They both defied the laws of physics, so perhaps—No, it was too much, and now was not the time, so how was she going to explain this? No thoughts came to her rescue, but luckily, frantic banging at the door did.

Finley rolled his eyes at the inappropriate timing and headed for the door. It was Scott. He looked ashen, like he had seen a ghost, his eyes as wide as saucers as he stood in the doorway shaking.

‘Fin, you must come quickly, Hamish Dubh and Digger are dead—both of them. We saw the shadows passing through them. Th-they shuddered, then dropped dead to the floor. The fuck’n shadows are real. You need to come.’

‘Come in and wait while I get my coat.’

Still shaking, Scott perched on the arm of the couch clasping his hands between his knees. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked noticing Ann in the room.

Ann felt awkward. It was late, and she was there alone with Finley. ‘I was scared, I wanted to talk.’

‘That’s me ready.’ Finley popped his head round the door. ‘Let’s go.’

Before any of them had a chance to make a move, they all saw it above them in the corner: a shadow, dark and wispy, swirling like smoke. It had one purpose—it wanted a soul. They all knew it, and it was going to kill at least one of them. It began floating towards Scott, moving slowly like an eel in water. In the blink of an eye, Ann rushed to Scott’s side grabbing his hand; it was warm and clammy, and through it she could detect his whole body trembling. The shadow backed into a corner then stopped a few feet in front of them.

‘Don’t let go of my hand, Scott or it will get you. It won’t touch you if you keep holding my hand.’

‘How do you know?’ asked Scott his voice trembling.

‘She just does, trust her if you want to live,’ said Finley. Relief washed over Ann, realising Finley believed her, but how, could he not, now he was witnessing the power of the pendant?

‘Stand up, Scott, but don’t let go of my hand.’

Ann walked towards the shadow holding her pendant out towards it. Scott kept behind her. As they moved closer to it, it backed off, always keeping the same distance away.

‘It’s the pendant, it is protecting you,’ said Ann as they both sat down.

‘What is it, what the hell are they?’ asked Scott.

‘They are the souls of the dead, wicked souls, who have not completed their final journey.’

‘My god, Mum was right about you, you are a witch, aren’t you?’

‘No, I’m not a witch. I’m the person who is saving your life,’ snapped Ann, wondering, for a moment, why she was bothering. ‘What did you do, Scott? What did you do that was so bad a shadow wants your soul tonight?’

Scott twitched. ‘What, I don’t understand what you mean?’

‘This isn’t the time or place, Annaldra,’ said Finley softly, ‘Can’t you see he’s terrified, we all are.’

‘But that thing, why won’t it go away, it’s like it’s just waiting for me.’

‘It is. It wants your soul Scott because you have done something bad,’ said Ann with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. ‘When the sun rises tomorrow, it will leave and you will be safe until tomorrow night.’

‘And you will protect me then too?’ asked Scott anxiously.

‘She will. She will protect the whole village. The shadows are coming for the rest of us tomorrow then after that they die. Is that not right, Annaldra?’

‘Yes, that is what Tunkeeta said. After the third night it will be over, they will cease to exist.’

‘But they are already dead, how can they die again?’ asked Finley. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Tunkeeta said death was rare. Death to her people, meant the death of the soul, but when most people die, their souls live on. Tunkeeta called this sleeping. Only wicked souls will truly die. The souls of those taken tomorrow night will not die. They will sleep. She always said people feared death for two reasons. For the dying, it was the unknown, especially for those without faith. For the living, those left behind, being parted from their loved ones is what they fear. It is not knowing if we will ever be together again,’ said Ann as she gave Finley a knowing look. ‘Tomorrow night everyone dies together so there is no separation to fear.’

‘So Heaven is real, but not everyone gets to go. Is that what you’re saying?’ Scott blurted out.

‘Yes, I suppose, but I don’t really know. I just believe that most souls are immortal.’ Well mine certainly is, and so is your brother’s. ‘And if Tunkeeta is right only those with evil souls can truly die.’

‘What will happen to me when my number’s up? Will my soul die or live on?’ said Scott sounding terrified.

Ann shrugged her shoulders. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know what you did. Even if I did, it is not my place to judge you.’

At that moment, Finley realised his brother had done something terrible. Ann was right; bad people were dying tonight. Hamish and Digger, who had died in the hotel bar earlier, had done time for an armed robbery. Someone had been seriously hurt and left disabled.

‘Do you want to tell me what you did Scott, why the shadow wants you tonight?’ Finley asked his brother curtly.

Scott began to fidget, first picking at his thumbnail with his forefinger, before repeatedly scrunching a handful of his hair with his free hand, his right heel constantly tapping. ‘Ha, what like confess, we’re not even Catholics?’

No one laughed. Finley clenched his fists as he took a deep breath. ‘I want to know what it is you did, Scott. Tell me or Annaldra will let go of your hand.’

Scott looked to Ann for reassurance, but she corroborated Finley’s statement with a resolute nod.

‘I can’t tell you, you will never forgive me. Please don’t make me tell you… please don’t make me, please.’ His paranoid eyes ping-ponged uncomfortably around the room as he spoke.

Finley moved to the seat on the other side of his brother and put his arm around his back for reassurance. ‘I’m a minister for god’s sake, and you are my brother. Of course I will forgive you.’

Covering his eyes with his free hand Scott drew in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing a sigh of defeat. ‘I killed someone, that’s what I did, I killed her,’ he said in a hurry as though he wanted to get the words out before he changed his mind. His whole body gently rocked as he pressed his stomach to his knees. ‘I-I-I didn’t mean to kill her, it was an accident. I swear it was an accident. I didn’t see her on the road, she was wearing dark clothes. She just appeared out the darkness and I… I hit her.’

Time stopped as Ann stared at Finley in disbelief as she realised it was Scott who had killed Annabelle, and Finley looked equally horrified. Scott had mowed her down and driven off leaving her there to die alone. What a monster! Now she felt nauseous.

‘She landed on the bonnet and for a split second I saw her face before her body bounced over the car and onto the road… For a moment, our eyes locked. I will never forget that despairing look in her eyes, never. It will haunt me forever.’

‘But you left her there to die,’ spat Finley, removing his arm from his brother’s back. ‘You bastard, you fucking, fucking bastard!’ Standing up he kicked the wall so viciously it caused a picture to crash to the floor, the glass shattering and breaking the wooden frame.

Now, Scott was crying, but it seemed to Ann his tears were in self-pity, and not for Annabelle. ‘I know,’ he snivelled. ’If I could go back and change it I would, but I thought she was dead… I, I was scared. I would have stopped if I thought there was a chance she was still alive. The impact was massive. I mean really massive. I thought she must be dead. I am sorry.’

Ann believed him. She had experienced his driving, so was in no doubt the impact would have been colossal, but to carry on driving the same reckless way after killing someone. She shook her head sickened at the thought.

‘You’re sorry, eh! What bloody good is that to Annabelle? And what about Donald,’ Finley shut his eyes, breathing deeply through his nostrils, but it did not seem to calm him. When he opened his eyes, he looked just as angry. ‘The way you’ve treated that poor guy the last couple of years as if it’s somehow his fault…’

‘But if he hadn’t been late, she wouldn’t have been there.’

Finley’s face turned purple as he clenched his teeth. Ann though he might punch his brother, but with a shake of his head he merely said, ‘You are un-fuck’n believable.’

‘Please Finley, I’m so sorry, please forgive me.’

Finley did not look at his brother who, like a naughty child who had been scolded, now whimpered pathetically. ‘I’m going to the hotel. They need me there,’ he grunted slamming the door of the living room behind him.

Ann gripped Scott’s hand tighter. They sat in silence, except for Scott’s occasional snivels, as she did not trust herself to speak to him.

It was getting lighter. Looking at the ceiling, Ann noticed the shadow was gone, scared off by the sun like an unholy vampire. Scott had fallen asleep a few hours ago, his head rested on her shoulder as he snored. Though she had not dared fall asleep fearing she would unknowingly let go of his hand.

Click. Ann heard the front door open then Finley appeared. He looked drained; his tired eyes were dark and full of melancholy. Ann allowed herself the briefest of smiles. A three o’clock shadow had developed on his face making him resemble Swain all the more, and for the first time she noticed wisps of grey in his hair. The toll this was taking on him was becoming evident.

‘That was awful. We moved the bodies to the beer cellar where it’s cooler. The emergency services are at breaking point. God knows when they will get collected.’

Never, if I don’t fix this, and realistically what were the chances of that?

‘It’s gone,’ she spoke softly so as not to waken Scott.

‘Thank goodness.’ He bowed his head, his hands mimicking prayer. Then he looked at her; he looked broken. ‘What am I going to tell everyone?’

‘I don’t know. What did you tell the people in the bar?’

‘Nothing, I just told them to spread the word to get everyone to attend church today.’

‘Would they believe the truth, if you told them?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Finley shaking his head. ‘It might be too fanciful. But I suppose nothing is making any sense. What would you say if you were me?’

‘I’d tell them the truth. What other choice do you have? Tell them you have a powerful amulet that can protect them at the church. Tell them you’ve seen it working.’ Ann unclasped the pendant and gave it to him. ‘Here, keep it safe.’ It was the first time she had taken it off since Tunkeeta gave her it, and it felt strange. She had worn it so long it had become part of her, and now without it she felt vulnerable.

‘Thank you, Elano—’

Ann flashed a disapproving look. She slid herself from under Scott, being careful not to waken him. ‘I think I will go back to the hotel for some sleep before tonight.’

At the front door, Finley took Ann in his arms, blocking her exit. ‘But what about us?’ he asked staring into her eyes.

Had this moment occurred two weeks ago, it would have been perfect, but now so much was happening and things had changed. Even though she longed to stay in his arms forever, she forced herself to wriggle free. ‘There is no us, not anymore. The other night…’ Ann’s voice trailed off as she thought what to say. ‘You were right, it should not have happened. I let myself be weak. It won’t happen again.’

Finley ran his thumb affectionately across her cheek, his dark eyes glistening wet as they searched hers. ‘I never meant those things I said. If I had known who you were—who I was, of course I would know you would never be unfaithful. I was so confused and angry. Please forgive my outburst—’

‘Stop it! It’s not that,’ she was quick to jump in. ‘It’s this, me and you, Elaine and Gracie all of this, it’s a mess. What we did the other night was wrong. It should never have happened!’

‘But it did happen, and now there is an “us”. You are everything to me. You’re my life. Without you I am incomplete.’ He looked lost as he spoke, his words desperately clutching to what they had. ‘Our love is immortal.’

The impact those last few words had on Ann was momentous. It was true, their love was immortal, but she had to deny it even though she felt the same emotions as he did. ‘Please Finley, stop it, there is no us!’ she insisted in a firm tone. ‘I will see you at the church this afternoon.’ With that said, she turned and left, before he could see the truth in her eyes and she saw the hurt in his.

Ann was tired, but she desperately wanted to get back to the Otherworld and ask her parents for answers. Surely, they will know how to stop the shadow deaths.

Before heading back to the hotel, she popped into see Donald. Tiptoeing into his caravan, she saw he was asleep on the couch. For a moment, she watched as he slept looking peaceful, knowing that when he wakened, it would be into a nightmare.

‘Donald,’ she whispered.

Donald’s eyes slowly motioned; he smiled at her with them still closed.

‘I’ve spoken to Finley,’ she said softly.

Donald’s eyes opened wide. He had remembered the hell they were living. He heaved himself up. ‘Did he believe you?’

‘Yes he did, he had no choice. He saw it working.’

‘That’s good news it works,’ said Donald. ‘But how did he see it working?’

‘One of the shadows was after Scott. That’s where I’ve been. I spent the night beside Scott holding his hand and it kept its distance, but it clearly wanted him.’

‘Scott, why doesn’t that surprise me,’ Donald shook his head. ‘What did he do?’

Ann shrugged as though she did not know, hoping it would curb his curiosity. It would not do for him to find out now when so much else was going on. The last thing she needed was Donald and Scott coming to blows, and besides, it was not her place to tell him, it was Scott’s. ‘I’m going back to the hotel now to sleep. Fingers crossed I go back to the Otherworld.’

‘Listen, I know we discussed this but do you think it’s safe? What if they are behind this?’ said Donald, who, to Ann’s great relief, was obviously not interested in Scott’s wrongdoing.

Ann smiled. ‘I doubt it was them.’

’But I’ve been thinking about it, there was nothing you could have done about the geis being broken. You didn’t know I was there. I broke it, it wasn’t us, and the geis wasn’t placed on me. Think about it, Ann, you didn’t break it.’

Ann shook her head. ‘Look, I don’t know how they work. If I had been more careful, I might have noticed you. Perhaps others can instigate the breaking of them. I don’t know. Anyway, it is broken now, that’s for sure. I’ve told you about the spell, my parents, the Otherworld, everything they forbade me from speaking about—’

‘But the shadows, they started before you told me,’ he pointed out.

She knew he was right, it did not make sense, but something had certainly gone wrong. ‘I know, but it’s a risk I have to take. I must try to save everyone, not just the village, and the only chance I have of doing that is going back. If they have nothing to do with it, I am sure they will help. They will know how to fix this.’ Ann’s head fell forward as she held it in both hands. ‘Anyway, there is only a slim chance I will go back.’

Donald opened the door and sat outside on the caravan step. The remnants of the sunrise gave the sky a pale, warm, peachy shade, but he did not seem to notice. He picked up a stick and played with the dirt on the ground. Ann budged up beside him.

‘You will be careful, promise me, Ann,’ he said without looking at her.

Ann put an arm around his back, rubbing it. ‘Of course I will. Anyway, you should pack a bag with blankets, food, water and anything else you think we might need. It will be a long night.’

Donald nodded, his eyes remaining fixed on the circle he had drawn in the dirt.