Help him? He didnât need help. Did he? The dreams faded in the waking hours and it was easy to forget. At least, it used to be easy. Now â not so much. âHelp me how?â
âWe have a potion,â said Nancy.
Sean was not inclined to laugh any more. There was a dignity in the womanâs words and honesty in her expression. âWhat, like a magic potion?â He couldnât believe heâd asked that.
âYes,â said Nancy. âItâs a hallucinogenic. It will open up the ancient pathways, if you are indeed one of the Olde.â
Sean was intrigued. âAnd if Iâm not?â
Lydia and Nancy exchanged puzzled looks. âMmm,â said Lydia, âno idea, really. Probably wonât kill you though.â
Sean bristled. âProbably wonât kill me! Oh, thanks! Thatâs so reassuring. Maybe it will just reduce me to a babbling idiot,â he said scathingly.
Lydia nodded. âPossible. But not probable.â
Sean glared at her. âYouâre not really very good at the whole sales end of the scheme, are you?â
Nancy shook her head. âNo, weâre not. But Sarah was. She sold you to us. We believe.â
And in that moment Sean felt his whole belief system waver and wobble. He was finally forced to face the truth heâd been running and hiding from forever. There was something strange about him. Something odd. Often he thought that he was mad, perhaps. A schizophrenic. Or something else equally scary. And he thought about his way with the horses. Some would say that it was a gift. A kind of magic. So why not something more?
He looked around the familiar landscape, at the silvery mist haze in the dell and the feathery fingers of the trees against the sky. The wind softly stroked his face and the water chattered cheerfully in his ears. He took in a deep breath of the mountain air.
âOK,â he said. âIâll play along. But Iâm not getting naked.â
The two women exchanged looks of relief and nodded.
âCome into the circle,â said Lydia.
Sean did as she bid. He waited as Nancy lit the fire. He expected them to put a cauldron on to boil, but instead Lydia pulled a flask out of the carpetbag.
âWhat, no dancing and waving of wands?â he said, only half-joking.
Nancy shook her head. âNo, we have performed the rituals already. The circle and fire are for protection.â
Nancy held out the flask and offered it to Sean. After a momentâs hesitation, he grabbed it, sniffed it and took a deep swallow.
He cried out and dropped the flask, his hands going to his throat. It was truly disgusting. It burned and tasted like goatâs piss. His hands started to feel hot and then to tingle. He lifted them up to eye level and looked at each extremity carefully. At the palms, the backs, and finally all ten digits.
And to his surprise, they began to speak.
Chapter 21
Megan wasnât sure that she altogether liked the Jackal and Hide, but she did love to dance. It was a novel and uplifting experience to let the music pour into her and over her and just give it up. To sink into the maelstrom and to feel so alive.
She danced alone and she danced with others. One young man with cropped red hair sought her out twice. He had tawny eyes with flecks of gold, and the body of a hardworking man. She enjoyed his attention, and felt his heat. He danced really well, with supple grace and strength. She toyed with the idea of taking him into a dim corner but dismissed it. He was definitely attractive. But as the hours ticked by she found herself anticipating the moment of departure. She had promises to keep.
Thirst brought her off the stage. She wiggled her way through the crowd and jumped to the lower floor. Whisky was nice, but water was what she needed. And then she thought about the river that ran like a silver ribbon through the valley at Seanâs home. It would be lovely to catch up the clear water in her
âWe have a potion,â said Nancy.
Sean was not inclined to laugh any more. There was a dignity in the womanâs words and honesty in her expression. âWhat, like a magic potion?â He couldnât believe heâd asked that.
âYes,â said Nancy. âItâs a hallucinogenic. It will open up the ancient pathways, if you are indeed one of the Olde.â
Sean was intrigued. âAnd if Iâm not?â
Lydia and Nancy exchanged puzzled looks. âMmm,â said Lydia, âno idea, really. Probably wonât kill you though.â
Sean bristled. âProbably wonât kill me! Oh, thanks! Thatâs so reassuring. Maybe it will just reduce me to a babbling idiot,â he said scathingly.
Lydia nodded. âPossible. But not probable.â
Sean glared at her. âYouâre not really very good at the whole sales end of the scheme, are you?â
Nancy shook her head. âNo, weâre not. But Sarah was. She sold you to us. We believe.â
And in that moment Sean felt his whole belief system waver and wobble. He was finally forced to face the truth heâd been running and hiding from forever. There was something strange about him. Something odd. Often he thought that he was mad, perhaps. A schizophrenic. Or something else equally scary. And he thought about his way with the horses. Some would say that it was a gift. A kind of magic. So why not something more?
He looked around the familiar landscape, at the silvery mist haze in the dell and the feathery fingers of the trees against the sky. The wind softly stroked his face and the water chattered cheerfully in his ears. He took in a deep breath of the mountain air.
âOK,â he said. âIâll play along. But Iâm not getting naked.â
The two women exchanged looks of relief and nodded.
âCome into the circle,â said Lydia.
Sean did as she bid. He waited as Nancy lit the fire. He expected them to put a cauldron on to boil, but instead Lydia pulled a flask out of the carpetbag.
âWhat, no dancing and waving of wands?â he said, only half-joking.
Nancy shook her head. âNo, we have performed the rituals already. The circle and fire are for protection.â
Nancy held out the flask and offered it to Sean. After a momentâs hesitation, he grabbed it, sniffed it and took a deep swallow.
He cried out and dropped the flask, his hands going to his throat. It was truly disgusting. It burned and tasted like goatâs piss. His hands started to feel hot and then to tingle. He lifted them up to eye level and looked at each extremity carefully. At the palms, the backs, and finally all ten digits.
And to his surprise, they began to speak.
Chapter 21
Megan wasnât sure that she altogether liked the Jackal and Hide, but she did love to dance. It was a novel and uplifting experience to let the music pour into her and over her and just give it up. To sink into the maelstrom and to feel so alive.
She danced alone and she danced with others. One young man with cropped red hair sought her out twice. He had tawny eyes with flecks of gold, and the body of a hardworking man. She enjoyed his attention, and felt his heat. He danced really well, with supple grace and strength. She toyed with the idea of taking him into a dim corner but dismissed it. He was definitely attractive. But as the hours ticked by she found herself anticipating the moment of departure. She had promises to keep.
Thirst brought her off the stage. She wiggled her way through the crowd and jumped to the lower floor. Whisky was nice, but water was what she needed. And then she thought about the river that ran like a silver ribbon through the valley at Seanâs home. It would be lovely to catch up the clear water in her
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