The Phoenix and the Witch Read online

  "We'd love to Dr. Brown, but I don't think there's enough room for all of us up there."

  He looked around in confusion, absently blinking at the small area before the fog cleared and he smiled ruefully.

  "Ah, yes. I forgot you are a little too big for a brownie tea party. I'll be down in a trice."

  Cat and Evelyn watched with amusement as he scampered down the shelves in a nimble manner that completely belied his elderly appearance. By the time he reached the bottom shelf, he was regular size again and looked older. He straightened his tweed suit and tie and grabbed the tea set down from the shelf.

  "Tea?" he asked, with what Cat thought was the proper amount of Scottish reserve, although his nose was twitching with mischief.

  "Yes, thanks," said Evelyn and Cat in unison.

  They sat down in the armchairs by the fire and held their teacups and saucers. They waited for him to speak as they sipped their drinks.

  "So I understand that there have been some developments this week? Your friends have arrived and you've several altercations in the last few days."

  Cat was startled, but relaxed as she realized it made sense he'd know, as close to Robin as he was and considering that he was supposed to be guiding them.

  "Yes, the dark ones who worked with Dub seem to be multiplying now, or at least congregating," Cat replied. "When we spoke with Robin at the Khan's house, he showed Evelyn a vision of them coming here, to this area."

  Evelyn nodded. "They seem to be coming this way. We think that the target's a dark, dead looking tree that we've been seeing in our dreams since last year. Robin showed us it's actually a witch named Carman, but we don't have anything else to go on in terms of what she is."

  Evelyn took another sip of her tea after she spoke and they both waited for Dr. Brown to respond.

  He sighed and walked around his desk, crossing his arms on the top and leaning over to rest on them while looking past them into the fireplace.

  "Yes, this much I know. Carman is just a legend to me, a being far, far older than I am. I only know of her through the old ones and the stories I've heard from them. Robin's told me a little, but I'm rather in the dark myself. I know that the dark soulless ones, the ones who will feed on the light, will be attracted to her side to fight this battle. If you're able to diminish their numbers now that will only be to your advantage later, when you finally meet her." He paused, sighing again. "Truly, I don't know if I have anything of value to give you in the midst of this fight. There are a few books in the collection that may provide some information, but I'm not sure. Everything I have from that time period is in this section."

  Dr. Brown stood up, showing them a small shelf directly behind his desk. There was a collection of five small and ancient looking texts to the side of the others, looking alone and slightly out of place.

  "Use them to your benefit, whatever that benefit may be. I think that it's time for you to focus on these books. I know of your plan to have your friends patrol the streets this week, and I think it's a good idea. I'd still like you to come in every morning as long as you can and we'll continue to discuss the books, as well as anything else I can help you with. I'll provide whatever assistance I can wherever possible, but I think you'll be of more use to your friends right now. Events are unfolding more quickly than I’d anticipated."

  Cat noticed that Dr. Brown seemed almost resigned to defeat.

  "Can you tell us anything else that may help? When we first got here, Evelyn spoke with the ghost of Robert Sibbald, who told her of a family of cannibals. When Zahara heard that, she filled in the details of the family. It seems a little too coincidental that they lived in the same area where Carman was supposedly defeated. Is there a connection that you know of?"

  She was pleasantly surprised when he stood up and walked over to another section of books, bearing the look of someone who'd just had an epiphany.

  "Hmm, wait a minute...Where is that book? Ah, yes, this is the one...hmm."

  The girls watched their teacher as he moved around the room, waiting for him to stop flitting. Finally, he stopped talking to himself and brought a book over to them.

  "This is an account of the court of King James the fifth of Scotland, James the first of England, from the late 1500's, giving details of the trial of a family of highwaymen. It speaks of some of the atrocities they were supposed to have committed. Maybe you'll find more information to work with. You can take these books with you to read today and I'll see you again tomorrow morning. We can discuss them then."

  He paused, looking at Cat with a twinkle in his eye. "Oh, and listen to your sister. She's always right about school work."

  On that cryptic note, he handed the girls the books and after shrinking back down in size, he climbed back up the bookshelf in a lithe, catlike fashion and retreated to his little perch.

  Cat and Evelyn stood up awkwardly, both feeling uncertain about what they should do next. Eventually, Cat shrugged and Evelyn gestured towards the door.

  "Well, I guess we can head to the library. We might as well get started reading these."

  Evelyn looked at the two books in her hand more closely. Cat didn't think that they looked like anything special, which gave her an idea.

  "Can we go do this somewhere else? Like a coffee shop, or even the B&B? I don't feel like having to sit quietly in bad chairs today."

  Evelyn lifted her eyebrows. "Sure, which would you prefer?"

  Cat thought for a moment. “Why don't we text Zahara? Maybe we can split the books up? Each of us read one and save some time?"

  "Huh. Good idea," said Evelyn. "Then we should maybe go to a coffee shop so we can talk about them. How about if you tell her to meet us at the Starbucks near campus?"

  After sending a quick text, Cat slipped the books into her bag.

  "Okay, let's go. They're on their way and we'll explain everything when we meet up."

  The girls left the office, with Dr. Brown still somewhere high above them near the rafters. The faint sound of humming receded as the door closed and the girls headed to the coffee shop they'd frequented before and after class over the previous few weeks.

  Starbucks was Starbucks after all, and lattes were delicious in any country. Cat and Evelyn arrived first, managing to grab a cozy area near a fireplace that had a bench and comfy chairs and order drinks before the others arrived. The soft sounds of coffeehouse music filtered into the air in between the food and drink orders called out by the baristas at regular intervals. Cat tucked her feet up under herself, wrapping her fleecy coat around her legs. She delved into the first book that Dr. Brown had given her, which seemed to be a first hand account of the tribe of Sawney Bean. She noticed the other girls enter and after waving them over and handing out the other books, she dove back into the story. Soon, she found herself transported to a different time and place.

  Almost like her dream when she'd first seen Declan at his place of origin, Cat felt herself fall into the past. Even though a part of her knew that her body was still sitting in a coffee shop, surrounded by her friends, Cat felt her reality shift to the time and place depicted in the book. As she read, the words blurred into pictures and she was there in spirit, feeling the words that the author had written instead of the here and now.

  SHE LOOKED AROUND INTO a small dark room lit only by candlelight and saw a man who looked to be about twenty years old. He was writing furiously at a small desk, dipping a feathered quill into a pot of ink every few seconds. Cat was impressed by his dexterity, noticing that not even one stray drop hit the parchment he was working on. The door flew open and golden light flooded into the room from outside, where Cat could see people standing with lanterns and torches. She heard murmuring and the sounds of people arguing loudly.

  "Are you ready, lad? We will need a record of this account, so mind you stay far enough behind to be out of the way, but close enough to write the truth."

  A tall bearded man in a kilt and rough wool cloak spoke forcefully and the young man she'd seen wri
ting quickly bundled up some parchment, nodding repeatedly.

  "Aye milord. I am ready. May God protect us all."

  He stood up bravely, his head held up high, but Cat noticed that his hands were trembling with the light burden of his book and quill. He waited until the tall man turned around, before taking a last troubled look around the room and following him outside.

  Cat looked around the room as well, but saw nothing that seemed important or out of the ordinary for the room. She felt herself almost floating along behind the group and realized that she seemed to be connected to the man for some reason. It felt as if she had to go wherever he went. Obviously, she was meant to see something with him. He mounted a horse and she hopped up behind him, able to feel but not feel the sensation of the horse underneath her. While the warmth of the young man was there, it felt distant and faint and he didn't feel her presence behind him. It was clear to Cat that once again, she was able to see and touch but wasn't fully present in the world that she was experiencing, and no one else could see her.

  They'd ridden for what felt like hours by the time the group finally stopped on a rocky path. She could smell the ocean and hear the surf as it crashed against the rocks. The weather had turned, feeling cool on Cat's not-quite-there skin, and she could see the wind lashing at the nearby tree branches. The men in the group looked resolute while they waited solemnly for the tall man to speak.

  When the large bearded man spoke with a commanding voice, Cat realized with a start that regardless of his rough clothing, this was James the Fifth, King of Scotland. She remembered Zahara had said that the legend specifically spoke of King James leading the manhunt for the family of cannibals. As she looked around the group and saw how intently everyone was listening to his words, she knew it was really the king. The plan was made to split the group into two and approach the cave on both sides of the coast. The men never faltered, clearly trusting in their goal. Cat followed along with her guide, still attached to him and helpless to change that. It wasn't long until she saw what was going to happen. They stood behind and to the side of the events, as the young man rested his parchment on his forearm and wrote quickly in some sort of shorthand Cat couldn't understand.

  She watched as men poured from the mouth of the cave, with fierce eyes and gritted rotten teeth, charging the party of men with weapons of wood and steel. Some had swords, but others carried what appeared to be farming tools, while still others wielded wicked double-sided axes, with edges stained a dark brown in color. The smell of unwashed bodies and salt filled the air, followed quickly by the sharp smell of copper as wounds appeared on both the men from the cave and the hunting party. Cat looked away, her stomach lurching into her throat after observing two men clash with swords, when one man fell without his arm.

  The hunting party was too large for the cave dwellers to resist for long. Cat forced herself to look back at the scene once her stomach was under better control and could see the point at which the tide of battle turned. The men from the cave were rounded up after only a short, brutal struggle. The hunting party tied the men together with chains, putting some of the larger men in charge of guarding them. The battle over, Cat felt herself being pulled forward and unwillingly followed her guide into the cave behind another group of hunters, carefully avoiding direct contact with any of the fallen bodies on the way past.

  She was aghast at what she saw within the cave. Darkness shrouded everything, even though the lighting wasn't that poor for the inside of a cave at night. The darkness Cat saw was the kind that lived on men's souls and fed on evil. There were strips of meat hanging on the cave walls and piles of bones in the corner that she didn't look at too closely, fearing that even in this strange half-existence she'd vomit. She could hear shouting and turned to see men struggling with a group of women and children. The hunters were more gentle than they'd been with the men from the cave, but the men still hit back when attacked by a few of the more aggressive women, subduing them and tying them together with ropes and chains before leading them out into the night.

  As they walked past her, Cat saw an incredible darkness within all of the auras. A few had no aura at all. Cat remained where she was, her guide immobile except for his hand as he wrote furiously. The line of captives walked out of the cave and past the opening, near the place that they'd entered, but through a different entrance than the one she remembered from earlier. Suddenly, she felt a prickle on her neck. Cat looked around, trying to find what was triggering the sensation, but at first she saw nothing. Then she heard it, a low moaning sound, almost like the wind moving through tree branches. The scribe she was following froze, then looked towards the direction from which Cat had heard the sound. She watched as he started to move almost mechanically toward it, as though he was in a trance, or a puppet led by strings.

  "Please, stop!" Cat whispered.

  But she went unheard. The man continued up the path into the dark night. While there were many other people around the cave, he was alone in his trek up the path on the hill away from the cave and toward the water. It was a hilly climb and his progress was slowed by the rocks and roots that he had to grab along the way to keep moving forward. She felt a sense of menace growing the higher up they went, until finally they arrived at the top of a rocky outcropping, the dark night reflected on the water, choppy and white-capped in the windy sea.

  There, directly in front of her, the tree from her dreams spread it's expansive, twisted branches. Yet this time, she could see it and hear its groans in the wind, and knew that the events were really happening. The man stopped, frozen in front of the tree with fear. The shape of a woman, twisted as though in pain, formed the body of the trunk, with barren branches like tendrils of hair or arms streaming away toward the top of the tree. As she watched, the tree appeared to elongate and stretch out, the trunk shifting as though changing position. At last the tree stopped moving and became still.

  Through the rough night, the wind seemed to call at her, a moaning sound that Cat realized was originating from the tree. As she strained to listen, it seemed as though the tree was asking who she was. She felt compelled to answer, but stopped when the man answered first.

  "Who said that? Who's there? I am but a lowly scribe, from the court of King James. Show yourself."

  The man was clearly making an attempt to sound calm, but the underlying tremor in his voice belied his fear.

  In response to his words, a humourless cold laugh filled the air around her. Cat felt chilled to the bone.

  "I am everywhere and everything. You are already before me, but you should kneel and give penance for being unworthy."

  The voice was deep and cruel and the man dropped to his knees as though someone had hit him from behind. She could see and feel the terror rising in his aura even as he tried to resist the power of the tree.

  "Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

  The man's words were barely a whisper on the breeze, but Cat could hear them, and so could the tree.

  The sound of the voice, like branches screeching against a window in a storm, filled her soul with dread as it rang through the air again.

  "I am Carman. I am a sorceress with power beyond your feeble imagining and I do this because I wish to. This is my land, these are my people, and this is my temple."

  The trunk of the tree seemed to twist into a satisfied smile as a root lashed out, striking the man in the chest and remaining attached to him. A moldy dark green glow spread across his chest and he slumped forward unconscious as his energy moved from his chest into the root that was sucking out his life force. Cat tried to intervene, but as she was still formless she was unable to touch the man or help him. Just as Cat was about to give up hope, she heard a commotion. King James bounded up the hill and drew his sword, slicing the tree root in half with one smooth motion. The tree let out a terrible howl of pain and the scribe slumped to the ground. Cat noticed with relief that he was still breathing.

  The king faced off against the tree, his legs spread wide and his
sword drawn in front of him, the thick red beard on his face glowing against the darkness of the night.

  "You are not welcome here, witch," King James said, then spat on the ground.

  Power rippled up his legs from the ground itself as a healthy green glow filled him. She realized that he was drawing energy from the surrounding rocks. With amazement, she noticed the tree turning blacker, appearing to be wilting into a dried up stump. The demonic presence within the tree became silent and Cat felt that maybe it had gone, vanquished by the king's power.

  The scribe stirred and King James turned, after a final wary glance at the tree.

  "Are you still with us, boy?"

  The scribe groaned and nodded weakly.

  "Aye, I'll be fine, my lord. What was that?"

  He looked around, his eyes still slightly clouded and Cat saw a look of regret pass over the king's face.

  "'T'was nothing, lad, just some remnants of the night's evil. Gone now. Come, let us join the others and write the story of the night. T'will be important to tell others of what has happened here."

  The young man nodded, then cautiously headed back down the narrow footpath in front of the king, picking his way past the rocks and moving slowly with fatigue. King James followed behind him protectively, then stopped to take a last look at the now silent and unmoving tree. It appeared dead to Cat, with no hint of life. The king recited something under his breath before he moved on and it took her a moment to piece it together. As she followed, she realized that he’d been saying the Lord's Prayer.

  When she reached the bottom of the path, Cat was stunned by the sight of a long line of about fifty people in varying forms of restraint, from ropes to full chains with heavy balls weighing them down. The larger and more dangerous appearing the person, the heavier the restraint, although one slender woman appeared to have chains on both her hands and feet. When Cat examined her aura, she could see why. Every person that was tied up had some form of darkness to their auras, or worse, no aura at all. Almost all had the dead eyes she now associated with the sociopathic people she'd encountered in her own era. Undoubtably, each and everyone of the captives was dangerous and would kill without remorse if given the chance.