Hungry Moon (13 page)

^{He turned his head and stared at her with nothing in his eyes. Eventually he said, 'I'll tell you what I know, and if you don't believe it, suit yourself. But you won't like what you hear.'}

^{At least she wouldn't have to touch the fattened books. He waited for her to sit down, and then he said, 'Happen you know the Romans never gained much ground up here. A military dictatorship was all they could manage, and not much of that this far into the Peak. Half the Peak was forest then. Where we're sitting now was the edge of a forest of oaks.'}

^{Mist stirred like foliage at the window. 'Well, the Romans cut down trees for their furnaces and worked the natives in the mines,' Needham said. 'And at first they didn't notice if the odd child or old person went missing. Even when a Roman patrol did, the commander of the garrison thought they'd got lost in a mist that was lasting for days. But then he thought of sending a patrol into the woods to see what the natives were scared of.}

^{'The woods went down past where Moonwell is now, for miles. You can still see some of the old trees. Whenever the trees had to be felled for fuel the natives had to be forced to do it. The Romans thought they were just being superstitious savages until they noticed that the natives were most afraid of the woods when the moon was up.}

^{'Well, the commander knew that meant druidism, and he sent a patrol into the woods in daylight, and they found the cave you're so concerned about. It was in a glade of oaks then, and all the oaks around it were carved. Some of them had three faces, and some looked like men with their innards hanging out, the way the druids used to cut them open as part of their magic. Some of those carvings must have been hundreds of years old even then. And caught on one of them they found a bit of a tunic that a soldier in the missing patrol had been wearing.}

^{'The commander didn't let on to the natives that he knew anything. The Romans just kept watch until the next full moon, and then they saw a few of the natives sneaking off into the forest. One of them was carrying a newborn baby. The Romans followed them to the cave and saw them throw the baby down, and they were just going to seize them when the thing that lived in the forest came looking for its food.'}

^{His eyes were brighter, as if he could see what he was describing. 'The Romans ought to have noticed there was more to the place than superstition. Happen some did. Some of them thought on the way to the cave that there was more moonlight under the trees than there ought to be. One soldier even thought that the rays coming down through the branches looked like a spider's web, the way they kept crossing. He thought the light seemed to get hold of your feet when you stepped in it, but happen that was the ground or the undergrowth. Only there must have been more to it than moonlight, because they saw the thing in the forest running across the web the rays made, to get to the baby in the cave. You don't want to hear what it looked like, do you?'}

^{Diana nodded, then had to swallow in order to say, 'If you know.'}

^{'They could never agree on what they saw, not that they talked about it much. The light got brighter as it came nearer, for a start, until the moonlight hurt their eyes. It looked like a spider as big as a man, a beautiful spider made out of moonlight, or it may have looked like a maggot that was growing more legs than a spider, or a man with arms and legs that stretched out over the forest and a face just like the moon's face except it was moving. The druids were running away from the cave as they saw it coming, and they ran straight into the soldiers. But the soldier who'd seen the light turning into a web saw it scuttle over the edge of the cave, down to the baby, and the light seemed to flare up out of the cave as if the moon had fallen in.}

^{'The Romans marched their prisoners back to the village, and executed all of them except the head druid, who was an old man they'd hardly even noticed. They wanted to find out from him what they were up against, and he wanted them to know. He'd done what the druids never dared to do, he'd used magic so old it was almost forgotten not just to call their god they mustn't name but to keep it here on the earth instead of coming down on the moonlight for its sacrifices. He believed the whole forest was its place now, the druids' last refuge where nobody else would dare enter.}

^{'Well, the commander didn't know if burning down the forest would help. So he tried to starve the thing into the open. He set a guard around the village so that nobody could get out. A few nights later they saw the moonlight coming through the forest and trying to reach out for people, and sometimes they saw a man made out of moonlight standing just inside the forest, beckoning. Some of the soldiers almost went to him, except the others held them back. One of them thought that when the man went back into the forest just before dawn he got taller as he went away, until he was as tall as the trees.}

^{'The commander had the notion that the thing got weaker as the moon waned. Of course the druid priest made out it wasn't so, but he must have realized the commander was waiting until it was weakest before he attacked. So one night, just before dark of the moon, the druid escaped, ran into the forest. He came back at dawn, or something did.'}

^{'Meaning . . .' Diana said.}

^{'Meaning it looked like him - it mostly
was
him. He'd made the ultimate sacrifice, and he almost managed to let it come among them before they realized. Only the Romans saw how all the villagers backed away when the druid came out of the woods. So they tied him until he couldn't move a muscle, and waited until nightfall. And they saw him start to glow as if he'd swallowed the moon.}

^{'The next day they made the villagers cut down the trees around the cave, all except the one where they'd found the bit of uniform. And then they crucified the druid on it and piled wood round it and set fire to it. In the morning the fire was ash, but the druid or the thing that looked like him was still alive and crawling about in the hot ash, though all that was left of it was a head on a few charred bones.'}

^{For an instant Diana saw that as clearly as if she'd once seen it herself. She snatched her mind back to the flickering room, the windows patchy with moisture. "The pain must have trapped it,' Needham said, 'or going inside the druid; otherwise it would have got loose from the tree. So the soldier who saw clearest drew his sword and went into the hot ash and chopped off its head and arms and legs, and then he kicked all of it down into the cave. Except he picked up the head - happen he was showing he wasn't scared to. And the moment he touched it, it was part of him.}

^{'He went and stood on the edge of the cave, and he cut off his own arm. And then he stepped off the edge himself. That same day the Romans killed all the villagers and burned the village and most of the forest to the ground.'}

^{Even as a story, that dismayed her. 'But why?'}

^{'So the place would be forgotten - so that the rest of the druids wouldn't gather here. And they knew something was alive down there that might get a hold over people who settled near. Presumably Rome wasn't happy about what they did, because there's no record of it or the garrison as I know of. Though I wonder if the thing down there wiped out all memory of the place until it was ready to come back.'}

^{'But if the memory was wiped out -'}

^{'How can I know about it? Say I dreamed it. Say I dream because I can't see. I told you you wouldn't believe me.'}

^{'I didn't say that. But I don't understand how, if all that was forgotten, the dressing of the cave got started.'}

^{'I think the druids still knew where to look. It would have wanted them to. I think Moonwell was settled by druids, people with some of the old beliefs anyway, after the Romans left Britain. Happen they thought they'd revive what was in the cave until they realized what they'd be reviving. What do you think it'd do if it ever got loose? Think how much it must hate mankind for crucifying it and burning it and chopping it to bits and leaving it down there in the dark. The figure they made out of flowers wasn't a tribute, it was meant to guard the cave. I heard tell that once it didn't just have a halo round its head - its head was the sun.'}

^{'The sun god,' Diana realized. "That's why they put it there on Midsummer Eve, only now they pretend it's for St. John the Baptist Day and make it look like a saint.'}

^{'Aye, but do you know why it was Midsummer Eve? Because that's when the nights start getting longer and the power of the sun begins to wane, which is like saying the power of the moon gets stronger. In Rome it was the feast of your namesake, the goddess of the moon.'}

^{'No, I'm the other one, the huntress,' Diana said almost without thinking. 'If Mann stops them dressing the cave, how much do you think it will matter?'}

^{'Not much by itself.' Needham's eyes were suddenly more lifeless than ever. 'If that was all he planned to do.'}

^{'Why, what else?'}

^{'You'll have to ask him that.' Needham pushed himself to his feet. 'Now, you'll have to excuse me. I haven't talked so much for years. I'll see you part of the way back if you like.'}

^{Glancing at the window, Diana saw that the mist had vanished as unexpectedly as it had appeared. A waning moon was high above the moors. 'I'll find my way,' she said. "Thanks for putting up with me.'}

^{Moonlight coated all the slopes, turning heather into white lace, grass into spikes of ice. From the first slope Diana saw Needham in his doorway, his eyes like globes of marble. She looked back again from the top of the slope. His door was closed, his window was dark.}

^{She made her way down the slope toward Moonwell. Doughy clouds rose over the horizon, but the moon showed her every open shaft and made them look deeper and blacker as the light probed into them. Could any of them be connected with the main cave? The breathless silence isolated her with the moon, tilted coquettishly above her as if to display how little of its face was left, half an eye gaping at her, the top of the head missing. However fast she walked, it hovered over her. Once she thought three shapes were fluttering above her high in the sky, but when she looked she saw only the white, decaying mask.}

^{On the edge of the ashen land she faltered, for stars were glimmering in the heather, five-pointed figures in a dozen places. She was spellbound until she realized they were spiders' webs. She ran through the ash to the path down to Moonwell, not sure yet how much she believed of Needham's story. She couldn't expect Nick to take any of it seriously, and certainly his newspaper wouldn't. Once she was home she could ponder what she'd heard, but there was no doubt in her mind what she must do now. She had to confront Godwin Mann.}

^NINETEEN

^{The second newspaper to pick up the story was a tabloid. PRIEST IN SEX AND DRUG BOOKS SQUABBLE, the headline said. Jeremy flung the paper on the table that had ousted the altar and waited while Geraldine read the report. Because of a printer's error, the town wasn't named. 'At least people won't know it's us,' she said.}

^{'You should have seen their faces when I bought the paper, Gerry. Everyone in Moonwell must be rubbing their hands over it, except Father O'Connell and Diana Kramer and one or two others.'}

^{'So let them. They can't do us any more harm. They'll have to accept eventually that we aren't going to budge.'}

^{'My God, what more harm do you think they
could
do? When did you last see a customer step through those doors? What do you want us to do, stay here just to prove a point while the books gather dust and the bank manager comes for us?' He went round the table to her and held her shoulders gently. 'Some of the bookshops in Hay-on-Wye are supposed to be falling vacant. We'd have the Welsh mountains there and neighbours who care about books.'}

^{'And what about Andrew? Are we just going to abandon him? You heard the way he was screaming last night.'}

^{'He must have been having a nightmare, and no wonder, but what are we going to achieve by staying? June and Brian aren't going to let us anywhere near him.'}

^{'I'm not so sure about Brian,' Geraldine said, knowing that Jeremy was probably right - but of course it wasn't only Andrew who made her feel compelled to stay in Moonwell.}

^{She wished they could leave as much as Jeremy did. Whenever she met people in the street, she couldn't help wondering what they thought of her. Her yearning for their good opinion dismayed her even more than their contempt, and sometimes, when people spoke to her as if they were doing her a favour, she was barely able to restrain herself from flying at them.}

^{Why couldn't Jonathan make himself clear? If she had him buried wherever they moved to, would that satisfy him? Or had the shining gravestone meant that he wanted to be buried only in Moonwell? She had to let them know in Sheffield soon if she didn't want his grave moved here. Perhaps she didn't need to be alone with her doubts; if Jeremy saw the stone he would have to believe, whatever arguments that might lead to. 'Come with me tonight,' she blurted, 'and I'll show you why I don't know if I want to leave.'}

^{'Why tonight? Why not now? It's not as if there's anyone to keep the shop open for.'}

^{'You never know, we might be lucky today. Wait until tonight, Jerry, all right? I've a reason.'}

^{They'd see nothing in daylight at the graveyard: she never had. Perhaps sharing her vision would help her understand why. Did Jonathan's life after death mean there had to be a God, or would life after death exist without religion, whatever the religions claimed? In time she might talk to Father O'Connell. As for Godwin}

^{Mann, she suspected that he would regard her belief in Jonathan as something she ought to confess, not discuss.}

^{Nobody came to the shop that day. She wondered if Mann's followers were putting off potential customers. Jeremy tried to conceal his impatience with having been made to wait. The thought of feeling trapped in the shop until dark didn't appeal to her either. 'Let's go out and I'll buy you dinner,' she said, remembering that she'd said that the first time they'd gone for a meal.}

^{They drove to the Snake Inn, all by itself in the pines on the Manchester road. After dinner they sat outside, watching mountains glow in the twilight and grow dim, and Geraldine realized how peaceful she felt now that she was out of Moonwell. Suppose Moonwell was where Jonathan wanted to be, and Mann and his followers were driving him out? She could imagine how their children would treat him if he were alive, the child of the disreputable Booths. She felt as if Mann couldn't even leave him alone where he was.}

^{As she drove back to Moonwell, the moon appeared above a reservoir, a lopsided crescent skimming the water. Toward Moonwell it seemed to grow brighter, icing the ridges. The signpost for Moonwell dripped with rain like whitewash, the town's name hardly legible. As she turned the van onto the side road, she felt herself grow tense with wishing. All the way up to the crest that overlooked the town and down the last stretch of streaming tarmac, she was wishing that there would be something for Jeremy to see.}

^{The van coasted down to the church. Railings and treetrunks fluttered by, blurring her view of the graveyard. As she parked the van, Jeremy stared about, obviously disappointed by where she'd brought him. He was blocking her view, but she suddenly felt sure that the stone would be there. She turned off the engine and slid back her door. 'Come and see,' she murmured.}

^{Jeremy dragged his door open, the sound harsh in the silence. She splashed through a puddle to take his hand as he climbed down. Beyond the dripping railings, the moonlit grass was almost as white as the memorials; she was surprised how bright the remnant of moon was. At the forefront of the newest graves, where she'd left the flowers for Jonathan, a stone was glowing.}

^{She tugged at Jeremy's hand. 'Look,' she said urgently, and pushed open the gate that was beaded with rain. Under their feet the soaked gravel made a sound halfway between a squeak and a squelch. She stepped onto the soggy lawn, and then she missed a step. Not all the stone was there.}

^{It was certainly Jonathan's, for she could read most of his name. NATHAN, it said, but would that be enough for Jeremy? Why wasn't it all there? The stone was mottled now, as though it were ageing. The marks reminded her of the markings of the moon, and she had an odd momentary notion that the stone was incomplete because the moon was waning. 'Come on,' she whispered, pulling Jeremy onto the grass, but this time it was he who made her falter. He was staring at the flowers she'd left where the stone was. In the moonlight they were moving perceptibly, opening.}

^{'What's that?' Jeremy demanded in a small choked voice. He peered at the flowers, stumbled forward.}

^{'Look at the stone,' Geraldine urged him. Under the mottling it showed not only the year of Jonathan's stillbirth but also, very faintly, the month and the day. "The stone, Jeremy,' she cried, just as the moonlight vanished.}

^{She moaned in frustration and dismay. Clouds that would go on for minutes had closed over the moon, and the stone was no longer glowing; it was barely visible in the barred light through the railings. Jeremy was stooping to the flowers, reaching for them, and then his hand flinched back. 'My God, they've taken root. They're growing.'}

^{'It doesn't matter. Jeremy, read the stone.' She wanted to fling herself at him, hold his head so that he had to see. How might Jonathan be feeling because his father wouldn't look? But Jeremy was tugging at the flowers, one of which tore free of the wreath, spattering the headstone with moist earth. She stepped toward him, and then headlights swept into the graveyard and pinned them both.}

^{Jeremy leaped up, almost falling. Geraldine glanced at the stone and saw that now it was blank. Beyond the headlights a sliding door slammed open. 'In the name of God, what are you doing there?' Benedict Eddings cried.}

^{Geraldine turned toward him, then looked back at once at Jonathan's stone. But there was no stone, only bare grass and her flowers, which were curling up, withering. 'It's this place,' Jeremy said hoarsely. 'There's something wrong with it. Things growing that shouldn't be growing.'}

^{'What business is it of yours? Nobody of yours is laid to rest in there.' Benedict flung open the gate with a clang that dislodged a shower from the railings. 'Come out of there at once. Haven't you committed enough sacrilege? You'd stoop to desecrating graves, would you?'}

^{Windows lit in the cottages behind him; a sash slid up. Jeremy lurched toward him as if to manhandle him into the graveyard. 'I told you, something's happened to the flowers. Take a look for yourself.'}

^{Benedict retreated hurriedly. 'Have you been taking drugs as well as selling books about them? Leave our graveyard this instant or I'll call the police.'}

^{'You'll call the fucking police, will you? Maybe I should call them to you and your shoddy workmanship, you pious little hypocritical bastard.' Jeremy took another step, then burst out laughing mirthlessly as Benedict retreated further. He grabbed Geraldine's arm so hard she almost cried out. 'For Christ's sake, let's get home,' he muttered.}

^{Faces peered out of windows opposite the church as Jeremy started the van. When he swung the vehicle away from the pavement, she realized he was shaking. 'What did you see?' she said, as gently as she could. 'Did you see the stone?'}