Chapter Thirty-Six

Ben stopped at the threshold of the tarmacked road that ran between the houses, the others lined up next to him, staring at the shimmering wall where old met new—the present butting up against the future.

“What do you think will happen if we cross it?” he asked.

Stan picked up a stone and threw it. It hit the magical wall and exploded. The blast knocked them off their feet.

“Well, I guess that answers that,” Stan wheezed, winded. “We die.”

Clesek grunted as he staggered to his feet. “If you had asked for my suggestion, I would have cautioned against that.”

“You could have said so, anyway!” Ben stood and brushed himself off. The barrier ahead had returned to its shimmering state, reminding him of the spell that Alex had cast around Stormcrossed Manor, and the way that the banshee had strengthened it so that no one could cross it. “I’ve seen something like this before.” He explained what had happened and how El’s knife had cut through it.

Stan looked hopeful. “Have you got her knife now?”

“Unfortunately not.”

Clesek ran his hand inches from the barrier, and Ben wished his thermal camera still had a functioning battery. “I doubt this is a protection spell. Twyla?”

The old woman mimicked Clesek’s actions before stepping back to study the whole barrier. “I agree. This is something to do with time and energy. The place is trapped between here and there, on a knife’s edge of existence.”

“Which means what?” Ben asked, heart sinking.

“It is impossible to cross.”

“But there has to be a way! You told Raven to tell them that you would do this! They are busy with Tiernan.” He trusted his friends to complete their end of the spell, but he wasn’t sure what to think about these people. They exchanged worried glances and then drew close in deep discussion.

“We’re stuck here, aren’t we?” Stan asked, resigned.

“I refuse to believe that.” Although, even as Ben was saying it, he doubted himself, and from the look in Stan’s eye, he knew it, too.

Ellette crossed to their side, leaving the other witches to make their preparations, all sitting in a circle, draping their furs and pelts over themselves. “We have a possible solution. In order to allow you to cross this barrier, it must align with here. That means we have to temporarily align ourselves with Tiernan.”

Stan and Ben answered together. “What?”

“It is the only way. You will see the barrier start to disappear, and then you must cross—quickly! Raven will tell you when. After that, we reverse everything. It is the only way.”

“And if we miss the timing?” Stan asked, jaw tight.

“You will die. Or of course, you can choose to remain here forever. No risk in that. We don’t support Tiernan, and instead focus on returning this place to its own time.” Her expression was grim. “I realise both of these options are hard. If you stop here, of course we will support you.”

Ben groaned, clutching his head. “If we cross, can you reverse it?”

“There are no guarantees.”

“Fine. It’s a chance I accept. Stan?”

“It feels like a horribly selfish decision, because of whoever may be in there…” Stan looked at the deserted White Haven street beyond the barrier. “If there’s anyone there. But yes. I accept the risks.”

“Then we must begin. Once we start, none of us can break the circle. We will not speak to you again. I hope. Good luck.”

Without another word, Ellette joined the others, and Ben shouted, “Thank you. Thank you all. You’d better tell your descendants what’s happening, too!”

She nodded, already distracted as she took her place in the circle. The air was charging around them as they drew on the power of their spirit animals. On the walk, Clesek had explained about some of their magic, and using totem animals was a big part of it.

Ben marched to the boundary. “Come on, Stan. We have to be ready.”

“If they get it wrong, I just hope it’s a quick death.”

“Stan!”

He shrugged, apologetic. “Sorry. It’s been fun, though, despite everything.” He looked around at their surroundings. “What a trip!”

Ben couldn’t give two hoots about their surroundings. Instead, he focussed on the barrier and their future, until a prickle of growing power made him glance behind him. Then he had the shock of his life. The witches had vanished. Only their totem animals remained.

Bear was restless. El could feel that he needed to roam the streets of White Haven, but for now, she reined him in.

She spoke out loud, even though he talked in her head. She preferred it that way. “Settle down. If I need to cast big spells, it’s easier in here.”

“The elements are where we best connect. Not contained by walls.”

“Yeah well, this is the modern world. Magic is not common. Well, it is, but it isn’t talked about by everyone.”

“Sad.”

She ignored him, staring out of the window and onto the street below. She should have stayed with Reuben. She knew he’d gone into the water, because she could feel where everyone was. This was so weird. Her senses were warring with each other. She could hear Bear, buzzing with both impatience and his ancient wisdom. She could even feel a hint of her ancestor, the old woman with the grey hair. She felt full of everything, and she didn’t know what to focus on first.

“I’ll open the windows. That’s a connection to the outside.” She flung the windows wide, allowing the cold wind to blow inside.

“Good. Now sit quietly. Your magic is best served mentally rather than physically.”

“It is? It feels odd.”

“That’s because you like blasting things with fire. Twyla is the same. This is different.”

“From the animal that ripped Egberk to shreds.”

“You did that, not me.”

El was just about to argue with him when a clap of thunder silenced her. She leaned out of the window, and saw the mist rolling down the hill.

“Avery? Alex?” El shouted their names, looking up as if she would see them in the sky above. “What’s happening.”

“Focus! You must do as we did around the fire. Connect mentally.”

“But the mist is coming!”

“Do it!”

Bear’s presence, which had been casual up until now, exploded within her. She felt his fierce intent, and knew the truth of his words. Beyond that she sensed Twyla, her ancestor. El closed her eyes, opening her senses up.

The shock of what she saw drove her to her knees. The impression of everyone’s energies was so strong, she saw the world around her completely differently. Reuben was close, his energy rampant. A plume of water exploded a short distance ahead of her, and she knew the sea was raging.

The thunder of hooves pounded within her, along with Bear’s roar, Wolf’s howl, and the screech of Raven and Eagle. But where was Briar’s Deer, Oly’s Fox, and Finn’s Hare? El had barely time to consider that when Bear pounded out of the window and onto the street below, and she was with him. No one saw them. They were an invisible force. The pavement pounded beneath her strong, huge paws, his muscles rolled, and his thick fur meant she was impervious to the cold.

In seconds they were at the harbour, and she saw Reuben riding his water horse, directing all of his power toward the mist. Rearing back on huge haunches, she did the same.

Alex recovered from the onslaught of Tiernan’s power quickly. Avery, however, was not as adept at spirit-walking as he was.

She was spinning end over end, the silvery cord that was her life line, tangling below. He soared across to her, ignoring the angry red threads firing below him, but Raven appeared out of nowhere, reaching her first.

Avery slowed and steadied. “I’m okay. Keep destroying his threads!”

Alex zeroed in on Tiernan’s web. The threads pulsed and popped with power, and following them to the coast, he saw the mass of red and green power rolling down the hill. So, this is what the mist looked like in energy form. It was ugly, domineering. They had definitely summoned his attention. Everything the mist touched ignited, and once again, lightning flashed within it.

Alex felt Wolf’s power magnify within him, and drawing it in, and his ancestor’s power, he blasted more of Tiernan’s threads. A short distance away, Avery continued her assault.

But there were so many that Alex felt despair creeping in. Especially when he sensed the balance of power shift toward Tiernan. He twisted to look at the weak threads over the missing White Haven, and with horror saw them fading even more. They were losing!

“Wait,” Wolf commanded. “Your ancestors must do this to get your friends home. Trust us.”

Ben watched White Haven become more visible as the barrier weakened.

His heart was pounding, his mouth was dry, and he wasn’t sure if it was anxiety or magic putting him off-balance. Probably both. He could hear distant claps of thunder, and he couldn’t work out if it was his present or his future. When Raven finally screeched, he thought he was imagining it.

“Now!” Stan yelled, and he grabbed Ben’s elbow, propelling them both through the now barely-there barrier.

A tingle erupted across his skin like a burn, and he yelled as he fell on the ground. Instantly, the familiarity of modern White Haven came into clear focus. “Holy shit! We made it! Stan, are you okay?”

Stan groaned next to him, his face contorted with pain. “What was that? It felt like an electric shock.”

“Magic—of some sort.” The barrier was already strengthening again, the witches in their familiar form becoming harder and harder to see. “Herne’s horns. They actually did it. We’re here!” Ben patted the ground, feeling its solidity. It felt so good.

Stan groaned as he rolled to his feet. “I suspect that was the easier part, supporting Tiernan. Reversing it will be harder. Let’s hope our witches have things well in hand. And let’s hope if there are people here, that they are still alive. Start door-knocking.” He strode to the nearest one. “This is no time to be dainty.”

Ben and Stan worked methodically down the street, shouting and rattling door handles. If people were here, they’d be hiding. However, no one responded, until they entered the street that intersected the main one.

Ben pointed up to a window. “I see movement.”

“Let me! They know me.” Stan raised his voice. “It’s me! Stan from the council! We come in peace!”

“Seriously? The peace thing?”

Stan smirked. “It seems the right thing to say, and I love saying it.”

“We’re not alien invaders.” Ben pounded on the door, reflecting on Stan’s unexpected humour. Then again, he was the town’s Druid. “It’s Stan and Ben—the ghost hunter! Friends.”

He heard the thump of footsteps, and then the door was thrown open. A young man with a shaved head and a pierced nose answered the door. He was wearing old jeans, a worn sweatshirt, and looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. “The ghost hunter! Are you for real?”

“Of course!” Stan shuffled into view and Ben introduced him. “Are you from White Haven?”

“No! I’m here visiting with my girlfriend. We came because of you and your videos. We expected a fun Samhain. We did not expect this!” He pointed to the magical wall. “That should not be there. Is this a White Haven trick? Is there a camera behind you?”

“No!” Why was everyone so obsessed with TV? “Anyone else in there with you?”

“Oh, yeah. We’re all upstairs. No one is risking going out there again.”

Ben glanced at Stan, uneasy. “Did something happen?”

The man looked at him like he’d gone mad. “Dude. We are somewhere else. We heard wolves last night! I mean, I love your shit, but this? Can we ever go home?”

“Ah, that. Can we come in? We should talk.”

The earth trembled beneath Briar’s feet, and she knew Tiernan had resumed his attack. She could also feel the other witches as they responded. For now, she blocked them out.

She focussed instead on the earth beneath her feet, and the trees around her. She could feel their connectedness. It ran far across the forest. Dylan was right. All the trees were connected, and ancient magic ran through their sap. She sensed Deer running through them, pausing every now and again, searching as Briar was for fey magic. But it was hard. Ravens’ Wood was full of the Green Man’s magic, and it overpowered most other things.

Briar reminded herself of Shadow and how her magic felt. She felt the dryads murmur around her, and appealed to them, too. “Show me.”

Suddenly, the tree trunks warmed beneath her hands, and a wild singing erupted around her. It was eerie. Her skin broke out in goose bumps, and a vision of the Beltane night spent here filled her senses. A night spent with Hunter, when the Green Man and the Goddess walked these woods, along with the wild wedding party.

She took a sharp intake of breath. Of course. That was them! The fey. She had seen an echo of their presence. She focussed on that feeling, and then suddenly she sensed the net of fey protective magic that stopped Tiernan.

It was pure, filled with love, a shining light that would repel all evil intent.

She inhaled, drawing it within her, filling herself up so that she was almost drunk with it.

Then she opened her mind to Tiernan and her coven.

They raged and fought, the land trembling. It wasn’t Avery and Alex who would need this, it was Reuben and El. She found them, and sent the fey spell their way, before attacking Tiernan, too.

Caspian knew where the other witches were, thanks to the connection fostered by Avery’s spell. Now, he needed to play his part.

He, Helena, Finn, and Oly had waited for the ancestors to work their magic, horrified as the streets faded away to the point of non-existence. Caspian itched to intervene, but knew he had to wait. Helena, Oly, and Finn, had fallen silent a while ago, all of them connected to their ancestors, all lending them their magic. Caspian, joined to them, had given them as much as he could, but more acutely than ever, he felt his inherent disconnection from them—and their families.

All the while, the crashes of thunder resounded overhead, and the battle raged by the harbour.

But now, the missing streets were becoming more visible again, and even through his distant connection, Caspian knew Ben and Stan had crossed the barrier.

Helena had assumed a leadership position, and she shouted, “Call the elements! Weave them anew. Air, Water, Fire, Earth. Ground White Haven in our present. The streets straddle time, but they belong here. The threads tie it here, and they are weak—not broken. Tiernan is too distracted to stop us.”

Caspian’s headache intensified. Briar was right. He really wasn’t strong enough for this, but he was needed, and he would do what he could. He just hoped it was enough.

Cassie was sheltering in a doorway with Dylan, refusing to retreat any further. The ebbing and flowing of the missing streets was nightmarish.

“Are you still happy to stay, Cass?” Dylan asked her, his eyes on the shimmering wall.

“Of course! Aren’t you?”

He pulled her into his side, a hug of reassurance. “Of course. But if the whole thing explodes, we’re very close to the epicentre.”

“I know, but we have to be here if he returns—and there’s nothing else we can do.”

Newton had urged them to leave the area, as no one knew what might happen, but they refused. She eyed the flickering lightning over the harbour. It wasn’t advancing, but she had no idea what that meant. They weren’t telepathically connected like the others.

She returned her focus to the missing streets, and waited.

Avery was like a whirlwind as she destroyed every one of Tiernan’s poisonous threads, watching them shrivel to nothing. With each cut, the remaining ones became more apparent. They darkened and distended like engorged snakes as his power retreated.

Tiernan was pinned down, and couldn’t respond, and with every thread they severed, they weakened him even more. Alex had already destroyed the ones that choked the streets caught between past and present, and they could see the natural threads growing in strength. But they hadn’t the time to watch.

Raven appeared beside her. “Leave the smaller ones now. Aim for the biggest. Cut those. Without them, he cannot make more.”

She looked across the twinkling network of threads and saw the ones he meant. He was right. They were his lifeline.

“Alex! Join me over there!”

In seconds they reached the sinewy ropes that laid the foundation of Tiernan’s attack.

“Take my hand,” she instructed Alex. “We’ll work together.”

As they joined hands, she opened up to the others, too. She drew on her coven’s magic, and together they tackled the slithery ropes that he used to twist fate. Raven pecked and pulled, while they wrestled to cut them. When one finally snapped, it ricocheted like a whip, and everything of Tiernan’s began to unravel.

Alex squeezed Avery’s hand. “We need to get out of here, Avery, before our own cords are severed.”

“But—”

“No buts. Time to go.”

Zee felt as if he was witnessing an apocalypse—again. One in which this time, he didn’t die.

He hoped.

The clouds that amassed over White Haven’s harbour were mottled with black and green, and lightning crashed within them. A wall of water rose beyond the harbour, and at the top, lit by lightning, was a figure on a huge, rearing horse. But in seconds it had vanished beneath the surf as the wave rolled and crashed onto the beach road.

Anyone who was still out on the streets—and there weren’t many, because they had all made sure of that—screamed and ran for the nearest building to seek cover.

Behind him, Eli and Kendall were urging people through the door of The Wayward Son, while other shops and pubs offered shelter, too.

This was not the lightning-filled mist of the previous night. This was in a much smaller area, restricted to the harbour and the cliffs, but it was as if it contained the wrath of God. He had seen that up close and personally, and did not want to experience it again.

Just as Zee was thinking that the clouds could not contain the power that had gathered within them, they started to disperse. Ragged whisps were caught by the wind, carrying them far out to sea, or rolling up beyond the headland to disperse over the castle. Stars began to appear as the crackle of energy that had threatened to swallow White Haven petered out.

Kendall appeared at his side. “Is it over?”

“It seems so.” He twisted to look at the hill where the streets had almost vanished, wondering what was happening there.

Ben thought he might be sick. A very peculiar sensation was ripping through the time-suspended streets of White Haven. The pressure kept changing, and his ears were popping. It was like being on a plane when it hit turbulence.

He was sheltering with Stan and about ten other people in the first floor living room of a rented flat. They were a mixture of locals and visitors. Ben’s nose was pressed to the window, and Stan and the young man with the shaved hair called Morgan were beside him. Some people were at the next window, others were on the living room floor, braced as if for impact. They were all obsessed with the notion of crashing. Ben wished he had kept his thoughts about turbulence to himself, especially as some equated this idea with alien aircrafts. That was Marjorie Bishop, owner of the gallery, and Sci-Fi obsessive. Give him a pagan any day.

“Ben!” Stan tapped the glass and pointed above the opposite roof. “I see White Haven! It’s coming back.”

“We’re going back, Stan.”

“This is no time to correct me!”

“Sorry.” He grinned at him. “I think we might actually make it.”

Morgan summoned their attention. “Do you think we need to go outside? Gather on the border? We might have to make a run for it.” He shrugged. “I mean, what if it only lasts for seconds?”

Ben knew magic, better than anyone else here. To go outside now could be dangerous, but Morgan made a good point. He nodded. “All right. Let’s do it.”

Newton sheltered within the closest doorway, Moore next to him, watching the shadowed streets of White Haven slowly crispen and sharpen.

The thunder had finally ceased, and the church bells had stopped tolling.

Moore eased his head around the porch, looking up. “The cloud has gone. Bloody hell, Guv. I think it’s over.”

Newton was too busy watching the witches. They had finally dropped their hands, and all sank to their knees. Beyond them, a ragged group of people were making their way down the street.

Newton ran, and the PCs sheltering nearby joined them. “Get them all of out there! Moore—pull the witches back!” He didn’t trust the streets not to vanish into some other dimension again.

But before he could even get close to any of them, Cassie bolted out of a side street, yelling, “Ben!”

She plunged into the crowd as if she had laser sight, and threw herself on Ben. Despite the tension, Newton laughed.

Ben and Stan were home.

Briar lowered her arms and opened her eyes as the fey magic faded away, and the Green Man stirred and then settled again.

It was dark now, and stars were appearing overhead. The storm mist conjured by Tiernan had gone. But had he? Had they really defeated him?

She left the wood and walked across the castle ruins, Deer next to her, wary of attack. But everything was silent. There wasn’t even a breath of wind.

A shimmer of light ahead caught her attention, but Deer nudged her on. “It’s safe. She comes to apologise.”

Briar didn’t need to ask who. Hand resting on Deer, she walked onwards, and the white-clad form of Wyrd appeared before her, threads streaming around her. She was ageless and beautiful, but her eyes were haunted as she said, “I have done you a great disservice.”

“You have. You almost killed us.”

“Not I.”

“You didn’t stop him.”

“He was like a brother to me, and I made a pact.”

“That doesn’t excuse it.”

“He carried great grief.”

“That is also not an excuse. You bargained with our lives.” Briar would not back down, not even to Wyrd. Perhaps the Green Man and the fey magic had emboldened her. Mostly, she was just tired and heartsick.

Wyrd regarded her silently for a moment, stars shining in her fathomless eyes as the threads continued to weave around her. “You chose well today.”

“I know. I chose good friends.”

Wyrd smiled. “Your future is bright, Briar. Go safely.”

She vanished, leaving Briar alone with Deer. “Where now?”

“The Wayward Son for you. Celebrations await.”

Briar laughed. “Will I see you again?”

“Any time you choose.”

“That’s a yes, then.” And with a light heart, Briar walked down the hill to her car and her friends.