The Wind of Southmore (23 page)

Dr and Mrs Trevallen were silent for a few moments, and Alice
stared at her sister with a puzzled expression, for all she could
think of in relation to Aunt Maud was the vindictive glare of
hatred and glowing eyes of the woman who had dragged them to the
water’s edge to serve her own purposes. But Arlen seemed quite
distressed, and broke the silence with a cry. “I
must
see her! Where is
she? I have to go to her.”

“
I wouldn’t worry about your aunt, dear,” Mrs Trevallen leaned
over and patted her arm gently. “She’s in another place now.” And
Arlen did not ask after her again.

It was a
few days later when a tall, blonde woman, smartly dressed in a red
suit and black heels, pulled up outside the Trevallens’ house and
climbed the steps to ring the doorbell.

“
Well, Margaret Penmorven!” the twins could hear Mrs Trevallen
exclaim.

“
Hello, Elsie. I got your message. Where are they?”

“
I’ll call them in a minute. No need to shock them. They don’t
know yet. It’s so lovely to see you. And you’re so smart! Was it a
long drive?”

“
Too long,” the woman answered, and shuddered slightly as she
glanced around. “You know, I’ve never been able to bring myself
back here. But I – well – circumstances are different
now.”

“
Yes, they are,” the older woman agreed.

“
It’s so beautiful here,” Margaret commented. “I can’t ever
remember all this sun.”

“
No –
it’s quite recent,” said Mrs
Trevallen. “I’ll call them through.”

“
Wait
– Elsie,” and Margaret caught
hold of her elbow. “My aunt – what was she – ?”

“
We like to think it was quick,” Mrs Trevallen said shortly.
“She was in the tower room when it crumbled.”

“
The silly old woman,” Margaret shook her head. “You know, for
years I tried to get her to come and live with me and bring the
child – I couldn’t bear to think of them in that dreary old castle.
We knew years ago that it was going to end up in the sea before
long. But she was so stubborn – she wanted to be near home, she
said. Some home. I never could stand it here. But I – don’t like to
think of what happened to her. Or of – Arlen – being exposed to it.
And now they’re together? Alice too?”

“
Yes, Alice too,” Mrs Trevallen smiled and went to the door.
“Girls, would you like to come in here?”

The twins
looked at each other, and Alice held back slightly. “It feels so
strange.”

“
Come on,” Arlen replied, grimly. “It’s not over yet.” And she
clasped Alice’s hand tightly as they marched into the front
room.

“
Well, girls,” Mrs Trevallen beamed at them. “Do you remember
your mother?”

“
No,” Arlen said shortly. “Why should we remember our
mother?”

The woman
started and blushed then, as if taken off her guard. “Hello,
girls,” she said, clearing her throat slightly. “Arlen.
Alice.”

“
I’m
Arlen,” Arlen corrected her, her
face white and drawn. “
This
is Alice.”

“
Oh, of course,” said their mother, growing more embarrassed by
the second.

“
I’ll bring in some tea,” said Mrs Trevallen, and departed
gracefully. Margaret Penmorven looked rather as if she’d like to
follow her.

“
Well, girls,” she started again, trying to sound bright and
lively. “I should introduce myself.”

“
I know who you are,” Arlen said. “I’ve seen your
picture.”

“
Yes,” Alice agreed, feeling slightly like a bystander. “So
have I.”

“
Oh,” said Margaret. “Then at least you weren’t shocked,” and
she tried to laugh. It didn’t go down well.

“
Now, girls,” she tried again after a few moments, feeling
almost as if she were back in the office when the pitch wasn’t
going as she’d anticipated. “I – understand that you may not feel
too happy about me. I know – what I did was – wrong. I shouldn’t
have done it. I know that.” How much they looked like her mother,
she thought. And how she recognised the steely look in Arlen’s
eyes, the resentment, the independence, so like Maud’s. She could
remember now, standing on the stone steps, leaving the little
bundle with her aunt, desperate to make her way and escape the
bleakness, and feeling terrified and guilty and wondering where her
ex had taken Alice. “I know,” she said softly. “I shouldn’t have
done it. But I was only a teenager. I couldn’t cope. I had to find
out – for myself. I – I’m successful now. I work for a public
relations firm in the West End, and I have a lovely flat – big
enough for all three of us – and I – I would love you to come and
live with me. I’ll try to make it right.”

“
And after all,” came the soft voice of Mrs Trevallen, who had
crept silently back in and was laying out cups and saucers. “What
choice do you have?”

It was
true, and they all knew it.

“
Don’t worry, dear,” Mrs Trevallen whispered to Margaret as she
sent the twins to the car, clutching small carrier bags with really
nothing in them. “They’ll come around. You all just – need a chance
to know each other.”

“
Yes – yes –
I guess
– you’re right,” Margaret said slowly, as she
gazed on the small identical faces through the glass of the car
window. “Thank you so much. I don’t know if we’ll be
back.”

No, no, I
don’t wonder,” agreed Mrs Trevallen, as she waved them off.
“They’ve been through enough here, poor dears.”

The
atmosphere was very still as the car wound its way through the tiny
roads, back towards the motorway. None of them could avoid glancing
back at the jagged cliff edge, where the castle had once stood. The
girls could still see the remnants of their tower room in the
ocean, like the last sentinel of a castle beneath the sea, and
Arlen could almost see the images of the alchemist and Isobel and
Imogen, along with a very young Mac. Behind him, was a young woman,
her hair loose in the breeze and flying around her bony face, and
the hint of a smile playing on her lips. They were staring at the
car, from the pale sunlight amongst the ruins. She could not
suppress a small sob, and her eyes became wet and stinging. For
just a moment in the glint of the sun she thought she could see the
outline of another young woman beyond them, her head bowed beneath
a heavy hood, her arm outstretched and reaching. Arlen turned her
head sharply, but the image was gone, and she shrugged as she met
Alice’s questioning gaze. “I’m not used to the sunlight,” she said,
softly, her stomach knotting into a tight ball. She was still
there, and if she wasn’t Imogen or Isobel, then who was she? The
name slipped into her head suddenly – Morwenna – and she turned
cold as she realised that part of the puzzle remained unanswered.
Mac had not mentioned the name, and even if there had been a reason
for it, he was no longer there to ask. There was no reason that
Robbie would know, even if he did follow up on his promise to keep
in touch. She bit her lip suddenly, and tightly gripped the small
bag in her pocket that contained the fragments of the Penmorven
ruby.

Alice,
noticing, asked no more questions, but slid back silently in her
seat, and watched the scenery flash past in a melting drizzle of
sunwashed colour.

They had
found the path to fulfil their task, and they had succeeded. But
there were no charms or legends to help them with the road that
beckoned before them now, and, although they knew that they were
together, both girls felt slightly uncomfortable.

Margaret, glancing at them from time to time through the
rearview mirror, sighed to herself, and wondered if she was doing
the right thing. But she couldn’t just
leave
them there. Strange little
creatures, they were, such intense little faces, neither really
resembled she or Gary at all. She sighed again. It was going to be
a long ride back to London.

###

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ariel Dodson is a writer of fantasy books for adults and
teenagers. She currently lives in London and is working on the
third instalment of the Southmore trilogy. Watch out for the second
book in the series,
The Witch’s
Sister
, which is shortly to be published on
Smashwords.

COMING SOON

THE WITCH’S SISTER

Two years
after the terrifying events at Southmore Arlen and Alice share a
strained existence with their mother. A holiday to Edinburgh seems
just the thing to bring the family closer together. But the voices
of the past echo still, and when the tragic story of two sisters,
victims of the Scottish witch hunts, reaches into the present,
Arlen must call on an ancient power if she is to save her sister’s
life. But power comes at a price and Arlen will not be quite the
same again, especially when Robbie MacKenzie, her ally from
Southmore, reappears on the scene…

Read on for an extract from
The
Witch’s Sister
, coming soon to
Smashwords!

Chapter One

The car wound slowly around green pine hills, mini-forests of
close, secretive darkness, a tiny memory of the once bountiful
woodland which must have covered the area. They were well over the
border now, and their mother’s usually fast, impatient driving,
designer shoe constantly down on the accelerator, had given way to
a resigned lethargy. The motorway had been busy
–
holiday time
– and wet, and Arlen, seated alone in the backseat, had gazed
blankly on a monotonous greyness through the blurring rivulets of
water that ran down the pane in small streams. They had left her
alone. Alice, in the front with their mother, had spent much of the
journey occupied in switching CDs around with short breaks for
Radio 4 news, as requested by Margaret. Having stopped briefly for
an undercooked, greasy fast food meal at a rest station, they had
been back on their way for several hours, and once over the border
the blank grey wall outside the window had given way to a dark
greenery. Even through the tear-stained windows Arlen could see the
tall fronds swaying slightly in the breeze, whispering close, dark,
forgotten secrets of the earth. Had they even noticed her? she
wondered idly. Were humans of any consequence at all to them, until
they felt the cold teeth of the chainsaw biting into their
trunks?

Occasionally they passed a small stone farm, or a tiny gaggle
of houses close together, but mostly it was tall hills with
frowning trees. Arlen leant her forehead against the window and
felt the condensation gather on her skin with slimy fingers. She
had caught a small glimpse of the sea when they crossed over, a
quick glimmer of sun and blue water revealed by a temporary break
in the clouds, but it was alien and she drew her jacket more
closely around her.

“
Are you alright back there?” her mother’s voice broke through
for a second, as it had done for intervals throughout the trip,
and, not really expecting an answer, then resumed its conversation
with Alice about the house and holiday plans. Oh Margaret had
tried, there was no doubt about that, but after two years she had
grown used to her eldest daughter’s long silences and her strange,
deep eyes that turned to look through and beyond her when she
addressed them. The twins had clung together the first few months.
Margaret had never entirely unravelled the story of the girls’
meeting in Southmore and, to be perfectly honest, didn’t really
want to know. The thought of her childhood home in the tiny Cornish
village gripped her like ice at the heart – so far away from
everything that mattered, so behind the times, so
strange
. In a way, she
could attempt to understand Arlen’s reticence – poor child, all
alone there for twelve years except for ancient Aunt Maud, who had
always had a plank or two missing if Margaret remembered correctly.
But such sympathetic thoughts usually allowed other memories to
surface, namely the splitting of the twins as babies between their
parents, and the teenage Margaret, driving down one gale-blown,
soaking day, to deliver baby Arlen into that life. No wonder the
girl didn’t feel that she could trust her, and that was what
Margaret did feel when Arlen turned her strange, bright gaze on her
mother. She wasn’t trusted. And although she couldn’t blame her
daughter, she preferred to switch off from those feelings of guilt
and think about something more positive, which wasn’t hard, as the
PR firm she worked for had recently landed a large museum contract
and the work had been pouring in. That was one of the reasons she
had finally decided to opt for the holiday in Edinburgh and
Barney’s recommendation of the traditional Scottish house available
for rent over the summer. Barney Thompson had been the firm lawyer
almost as long as Margaret had worked there, and they had had an
on-again, off-again relationship for years. Currently they were
back on, and Margaret had been torn between taking the girls on
holiday to Hawaii with him or spending some quality time, as the
saying went, alone with her daughters.