gravel. The memory of the car hitting the graveyard wall crept back.
A few blocks were knocked askew, but the car had come off worse. The bonnet was crumpled, and steam rose. As she watched, the motion-activated floodlight went out.
The woman. Damn it, where was she? Jack pulled at the passenger door, and it opened, the interior light glowing yellow. The woman was silent, crumpled half on the seat and half in the footwell. Apparently, she hadn’t used her seat belt. For a moment, Jack thought she was dead, but then the woman raised her head and stared back at her.
Jack’s instincts hauled her backwards over the loose gravel, out of reach of the woman’s strange gaze. The car park light snapped back on, and Jack jogged to the wall, her feet slipping in painful slow motion in the shingle.
When they had built the church, they had used any available stone to build the graveyard wall. At the site of a stone horseshoe, the locals had cut up what was lying around. Jack pressed her hands to an ancient block of limestone, and felt her will asserting itself in the dark energy. Behind her, the woman stepped – or fell – onto the stones. Jack took a breath, and turned to face her.
She fumbled in her pockets for a talisman, anything that might boost her flagging energies. She realised pain was grinding into her shoulder, and burning across the centre of her chest. She focused on the ache, anchoring herself in her body.
She carried a handful of Maggie’s charms. Talismans to ward off illness, robbery, bad luck, but she couldn’t think of one that would ward off mind control. She looked up at the woman who leaned against the car, dabbing away blood from her forehead with a tissue.
‘How resourceful of you.’ She grimaced, and brushed her coat down. She was wearing high heels, which should impede a chase, at least. Jack wasn’t sure she could keep her own will.
‘I suppose that answers the question of what you are. Some sort of witch.’ Jack tried to keep her voice steady, but her breath was coming in little sobs, and her voice stumbled through the words.
‘No more than you. You created a morturi masticantes. So few can raise the dead.’ The woman took a step, then caught herself against the car and lifted her foot to inspect the heel, which looked like it was loose. ‘I have to admire your skills. The sigils came from Dee’s notes, I assume, or the medals?’ The light flickered off, and a second later, snapped back on. The woman had somehow narrowed the gap between them by half the distance. ‘But you lost that girl, yes? Now you will take me to your new one.’
One of the carved stones in Jack’s hand was heating up, and she dropped the others back in her pocket.
‘No.’ In her own ears, the denial sounded weak. ‘No, I won’t,’ came out stronger. She traced a line in the gravel with her foot and stepped away, pressing her back against the fractured wall. She began to chant the protection spell Maggie had taught her from childhood.
When the light flickered off again she braced herself for an assault, and waved her arm to set off the sensor. Nothing happened. Must be out of range. But the faint grind of stone on stone suggested the woman was moving. When the light came back on it caught her face, frozen in a grotesque game of “statues”. Stalled at the line in the gravel, her mouth was distorted into a grimace, her lips drawn back from her teeth. She hissed like water hitting a hot iron. She shrank back, her features composing themselves. Jack realised her first impression had been of a woman her own age, with fair hair, and a slim figure. The momentary flash had revealed a different woman, gaunt rather than slim, with wispy hair tinted an unlikely shade. Her neck was creped with loose skin, teeth lengthened by time shrinking her gums.
‘I will find her.’ The woman spat the words at her in a shrill voice. ‘And then I will brush you aside like an insect.’
The sensation of standing in rushing
A few blocks were knocked askew, but the car had come off worse. The bonnet was crumpled, and steam rose. As she watched, the motion-activated floodlight went out.
The woman. Damn it, where was she? Jack pulled at the passenger door, and it opened, the interior light glowing yellow. The woman was silent, crumpled half on the seat and half in the footwell. Apparently, she hadn’t used her seat belt. For a moment, Jack thought she was dead, but then the woman raised her head and stared back at her.
Jack’s instincts hauled her backwards over the loose gravel, out of reach of the woman’s strange gaze. The car park light snapped back on, and Jack jogged to the wall, her feet slipping in painful slow motion in the shingle.
When they had built the church, they had used any available stone to build the graveyard wall. At the site of a stone horseshoe, the locals had cut up what was lying around. Jack pressed her hands to an ancient block of limestone, and felt her will asserting itself in the dark energy. Behind her, the woman stepped – or fell – onto the stones. Jack took a breath, and turned to face her.
She fumbled in her pockets for a talisman, anything that might boost her flagging energies. She realised pain was grinding into her shoulder, and burning across the centre of her chest. She focused on the ache, anchoring herself in her body.
She carried a handful of Maggie’s charms. Talismans to ward off illness, robbery, bad luck, but she couldn’t think of one that would ward off mind control. She looked up at the woman who leaned against the car, dabbing away blood from her forehead with a tissue.
‘How resourceful of you.’ She grimaced, and brushed her coat down. She was wearing high heels, which should impede a chase, at least. Jack wasn’t sure she could keep her own will.
‘I suppose that answers the question of what you are. Some sort of witch.’ Jack tried to keep her voice steady, but her breath was coming in little sobs, and her voice stumbled through the words.
‘No more than you. You created a morturi masticantes. So few can raise the dead.’ The woman took a step, then caught herself against the car and lifted her foot to inspect the heel, which looked like it was loose. ‘I have to admire your skills. The sigils came from Dee’s notes, I assume, or the medals?’ The light flickered off, and a second later, snapped back on. The woman had somehow narrowed the gap between them by half the distance. ‘But you lost that girl, yes? Now you will take me to your new one.’
One of the carved stones in Jack’s hand was heating up, and she dropped the others back in her pocket.
‘No.’ In her own ears, the denial sounded weak. ‘No, I won’t,’ came out stronger. She traced a line in the gravel with her foot and stepped away, pressing her back against the fractured wall. She began to chant the protection spell Maggie had taught her from childhood.
When the light flickered off again she braced herself for an assault, and waved her arm to set off the sensor. Nothing happened. Must be out of range. But the faint grind of stone on stone suggested the woman was moving. When the light came back on it caught her face, frozen in a grotesque game of “statues”. Stalled at the line in the gravel, her mouth was distorted into a grimace, her lips drawn back from her teeth. She hissed like water hitting a hot iron. She shrank back, her features composing themselves. Jack realised her first impression had been of a woman her own age, with fair hair, and a slim figure. The momentary flash had revealed a different woman, gaunt rather than slim, with wispy hair tinted an unlikely shade. Her neck was creped with loose skin, teeth lengthened by time shrinking her gums.
‘I will find her.’ The woman spat the words at her in a shrill voice. ‘And then I will brush you aside like an insect.’
The sensation of standing in rushing
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