Magic Falls Part 25

The face in the fire looks at me as the long, slender fingers of the thing that had been snaking around the circle wrap themselves around me. I struggle against them, but their strength is enormous.

As they wrap around my throat and force their way into my mouth, I can see that the thing's other hand is doing the same thing to Maria.

"...off me! Get - " she says, before the fingers worm their way down into her throat, and deep into her stomach.

I know that is what it is doing, because I can feel it doing the same thing to me. It's fingers are cold, heavy and feel like they're screaming.

I am lifted off my feet, as is Maria. The face in the fire grows and we are moved to it.

I/WE COULD HAVE SO MUCH TO TEACH/LOVE/CUT YOU... BUT THIS WILL HAVE/NEED TO SUFFICE

The thing begins to spread its fingers, and I feel the pressure pushing against every inch of my being. It forces itself into my brain and the visions and feelings overwhelm me. I cannot see or hear anything other than its will.

I/WE


ARE
FOREVER
AND
YOU
CANNOT/WILL NOT

EVER

HARM 

I/WE/US/ME

TELL

MY/OUR

SON

THAT

The words burn into my head, my vision, my hearing.

It is all I can see. All I can feel.

All that I am.

And then they are gone.

Not just the words. But the face in the fire and the thing that was around the circle.

For a few long moments, I forget how to breathe, but then I manage to inhale several large gasps before I throw up a mixture of vomit and blood.

The room is still coming back into focus as I remember Maria.

I look over to see if she is okay, and I see that she is doing much the same thing. Her face is still smeared with the bloody tears and she is wiping blood from her mouth.

"What...." she is breathing shallowly and quickly, trying to get herself under control. "...the hell...have you done?"

I try talking, but burst into a painful coughing fit instead. When I can actually form words again, I say "I don't know."

"You...you just pissed off the elder gods," she says. I try to tell whether she is angry or scared. Or both.

"I don't even know what they are," I say. "Not until they...not until they were inside us."

"How did they....?"

"I don't know how they knew about me." I swallow back a mouthful of bloody bile. It tastes like copper.

"They could have killed us."

"So why didn't they?"

She stands up, and crosses the circle, moving over to her armchair, where she sits back and breathes slowly. "Gods," she says. "You take for granted how good air tastes when you're not suffocating on....whatever that was."

I stay kneeling. Moving my head is making me dizzy, and I'm worried about what will happen right now if I try to stand.

She watches me. "You know," she says. "That big display of power that thing did to pass on a message. That seemed very much like a threat to me."

I can't help but smile a little. "You don't say."

"It felt like grandstanding. Bloody effective grandstanding, but grandstanding."

"What do you mean?" I ask, taken aback by how quickly she is able to talk. I can still barely gasp.

"They're not just pissed off at you, Darren. They're scared of you. In awe."

I take the chance and stand. "It's not me."

"Who is it then?"

"The message wasn't for me...." The dizziness overwhelms me, but then I can feel it drain. I can see clearly, and feel my feet under me gaining steadiness. I can breathe again properly. "It was for the son of the devil."

"And who is that?"

"...I don't know."

She brings her head forward, her fingers splayed at her temples. "I can't help you any more, Darren."

"I didn't want this to happen," I say quietly. It doesn't matter. I know that.

"The money..." she says. "The money that turned up in your account. I won it. I know I said I wouldn't use it like that, but I did. And I put half the money in your account, because I know you're doing something even if I don't know what it is. But I can't do anything else. I'm done."

I stagger across to her, and half-kneel, half-collapse in front of her. She leans forward and we hug.

"I hope you find Nina. I hope she's okay. And I love you very much. You're one of my best friends. But I can't see you for a while now. This is too much."

I nod into her shoulder. "I understand."

"Darren?"

"Yes?"

"Stay alive. Please. Promise me."

I hold her tighter, but I don't promise anything.



*******************************************************************


I hear you.

Through the earth.

From where I have waited so long.

My love.

My one true love.

It has been so long.

I am coming for you.

Magic Falls Part 22

“Look at me,” Maria says. “You’re not saying what you think you’re saying. Do you know what you’re saying?”

I nod, but I keep saying it.

“Ph’nglui mglw’nafh cthulhu r’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn.”

“Do you know what it means?”

I shake my head.

“No,” she says. “Nor do I, but I’m worried.”

She looks around. “I’m going to break off the séance. You need to stop chanting, okay?”

I look at her, trying to stop.  But it carries on.

“I don’t know what you’re chanting…what you’re calling, but we’re not in control of this.”

She lets go of my hands. “I want you to concentrate on the candle. Focus your energy on that, and I’m going to blow it out. When I do, I want you to stop chanting.”

She kneels up, and leans forward into the candle to blow it out.

She blows, and the candle flame flickers, but doesn’t go out.

I feel the chanting continuing.

She blows again, and I think of novelty birthday candles, the kind that you blow out and blow out but they keep relighting, and I giggle, but I keep chanting and then…

And then there is a jet of flame rising up from the candle, rising feet in the air.

Maria falls backwards, startled.  She brings her hands to her face, but she’s not burnt.

The chanting stops,  and I feel like I can breathe again, but when I breathe in, it’s hot and sore, due to the heat of the flame.

I scramble around the flame to Maria, to check she’s okay.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t… I couldn’t control what I was saying.”

“I know,” she says. “Something was controlling you.” She gets up, and looks angry. It takes me a moment to realise it isn’t aimed at me.

“What the Hell is going on?” I ask.

“I don’t know.”

On the periphery of my vision, I see one of the candles to my right, outside of the circle, go out.

And then a second is extinguished.

“That’s…not good,” I say. “I don’t know much about séances, but that’s a bad thing, right?”

And then a third.

Maria is looking over my shoulder.

“Darren…” She whispers, her outward calm covering whatever she’s feeling inside

The rest of the candles go out. Except the one in the middle, burning more than it’s possible to burn.

But the light of it, while piercing to look at, doesn’t extend past the circle. I can still just about see out of the circle, but the light from the candle stops. We’re sat in a large, round, beacon of light.

“…there’s something behind you.”

I freeze. “Where?”

“Behind you, to your right. Outside the circle. It’s difficult to see, but it’s there.”

I go to turn. “No!” She says.

“Why?”

Her eyes are swimming now. “It hurts to look at.”

I turn anyway, but she’s right. Something about what I see hurts my eyes, and I can’t quite focus on it.

I turn back a little. “What is it?” I whisper to her.

“I don’t know.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see it better now, in the darkness.

And then I realise it’s been there for a lot longer.

It’s been in the darkness.

It is the darkness.

I can only see the shape of it, but it’s inconsistent. It looks like a man in a plain black suit, but I can tell it isn’t.

It’s too long. It’s arms, its limbs, they’re too long.

They’re really all I can see. It’s limbs.

Long. Slender. And just slightly moving. But not in a jointed way.

More like tentacles.

Something ageless and old and dark, something inhuman, wrapped up in a man suit.

“What’s it doing?” I ask.

“It’s just looking at you,” she says, and she’s crying now. “I think.”

Her tears are darker than they should be. In this light, I can’t tell if it’s her mascara or blood slowly trickling down her face.

“You think?”

“It doesn’t have a face, Darren,” she says, and she’s shaking now. “It doesn’t have a face!”

I can see its arms moving slowly around the side of my vision, and I am filled with dread. Its arms outstretch and they repulse and comfort me at the same time.

Its arms call to me.

Its eternal embrace.

Calling me home.

And then, while Maria is transfixed on the faceless thing behind me, I look back at the flame.

I can feel the heat scorching my face, but the flame calls to me.

It flickers red and yellow, dancing upwards, but in the centre of the flame is darkness. And that darkness is growing.

Growing larger as the flame grows. Inside all of the brightness and heat is a pure black centre.

And it opens its eyes and looks at me.

Magic Falls Part Twenty-One

NOW

“Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Inanna.”

I look into the black eye, and I cannot look away. I continue to chant.

“Isis Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Inanna.”

It draws me in, as Maria begins the invocation.

“Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Inanna.”

The words begin to feel formless, but I keep saying them. I am unaware of what Maria is saying, but she has explained that she is calling on the dead. Calling on them to answer.

To help me find Nina.

“Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Inanna.”

THEN

“I wouldn’t have taken you as the kind of guy who believes in séances,” Maria says as she arranges the room.  Large cushions on the floor, with a candle between them. She lights a number of candles around the room while we speak, but she leaves the one in the middle alone. I have been forbidden to touch any of them. Not because of her Wiccan beliefs, but because she just does not let me touch any of her things other than those she hands to me.

“What kind of guy would you have taken me as?” I ask.

“More the arrogant atheist arsehole type,” she says without pausing. “The kind who would come up with some pseudo-psychological explanation for what actually happens if they can’t explain it any other way. Perhaps involving some patronising element about shared hallucinations or something like that.”

“Remind me why we split up?”

“We split up, my love, because we couldn’t stand each other as a couple. I’m far less likely to kill you as a friend than I am as a partner.”

“That was it. Along with you being generally annoying,” I say, trying not to smile.

“That was deliberately cultivated,” she says, closing the curtains and dimming the lights one-by-one, until we’re entirely in candlelight. The room is large – although it makes up roughly half the size of the flat. “If I’m not allowed to stab you repeatedly, I at least relish being able to get under your skin easily.”

“There are times I’d rather you stab me,” I say, unable to hold the smile back any longer. “That’d probably have healed by now, whereas you’re still annoying.”

“Does she really not like me?”

“She doesn’t know you.”

“That doesn’t matter. I want her to like me.”

“Maybe if you didn’t call her a skinny bitch all the time? That’s just a suggestion, you understand.”

“Where would be the fun in that? It’s a term of endearment.”

“Skinny bitch is a term of endearment?”

“You’re a man. You wouldn’t understand. In my experience, for all the rubbish men talk about being the more logical gender, your penises seem to act as a more irritating Jiminy Cricket. Just with a libido instead of a conscience. Sit down there.”

I take a seat on the cushion to my right, where she gestures. “That’s actually not a bad description.”

“I am marvellous at descriptions. Which is why I’m going to repeat myself for a change, and point out, again, that you do not strike me as the kind of person that believes in séances. No, sit cross legged.” She sits down easily and demonstrates.

I try to fold my leg the way she has, but it seems surprisingly difficult. “I’m not. Not usually, anyway.”

“What happened? Your right ankle goes underneath.” She gets up again, and continues the preparations.

“Thanks. I spent three months in the faerie kingdom. It changes your perspective somewhat.”

“Very funny.”

“It’s not so much about what I believe,” I say. “I think it’s more about the nature of belief. And right now, I believe that this could work.”

She looks at me, and for a moment, I think she’s going to call the whole thing off. But then she bends over, and in a more dignified manner than you’d think possible, starts drawing a large circle around the two of us. 

“That’s basically what this is,” she says.

“What is?”

“The whole point of the trappings, of the ritual, everything like that. It’s about focusing belief. That’s the point of the candle and the circle. It’s not important what you do, except that it helps you to focus belief. Whatever the explanation is for what actually happens during it, a lot of it is about the shared experience.”

“That sounds like my atheist arsehole explanation.”

“Isn’t that strange? It’s almost like it’s both, isn’t it?”

“Almost.”

She sits down and lights the candle with a match. “Look, here’s the thing. Tarot cards don’t tell the future. Only charlatans and frauds pretend that. What they do is help you explore the present. One way of looking at it is that the Tarot gives you an empty canvas to project cold reading onto. Another is that, by forcing the connections between the cards, you’re forced to think more about the question you want to ask.”

“That’s what I’d always assumed.”

She looks at the candle, and, satisfied, settles back. “But here’s the thing. If I sat and tried to cold read someone without them, I don’t think I’d be able to do it. You can perform tarot with a deck of playing cards, more or less. But if I try to do it without the deck I usually use, I can’t do it.”

“But you’ve had multiple decks. I’ve seen you use different ones.”

“I know. I only use one at a time, and I have to go through a ritual for them to work. Is that because they won’t work without the ritual and the belief, or is it because my belief in the ritual stops me from being able to do it? I’ve tried doing it with different cards, and it just doesn’t work for me. Whether it’s causation or correlation, it doesn’t work.”

“Okay.”

“And it’s the same for a séance. I haven’t done one before, but if we didn’t do it properly, we’d just be sitting in a room asking ghosts to talk to us, and only crazy people do that.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.” I say, and smile. She smiles back, and reaches her hands forward.

I take them, and we hold our hands on either side of the candle.

“So,” she asks me. “Do you believe?”

I think of Nina. The rest is easy. “I believe.”

“Then look at the candle,” she says. “And the first thing we’re going to do is to call on the goddesses to protect us. So you need to repeat after me… Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Inanna.”

“What is that?” I ask.

“It’s the names of the Goddess. We’re appealing to her to protect us, and chanting their names to honour them while I start the ritual. Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Inanna.”

“Isis, Istarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Khali,Iyanna.”

“And again.”

“Isis, Istate, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Khali, Iyanna.”

“Keep doing it,” she says. “I’ll do it for a while, then start appealing for a guide to help us find someone with information about Nina… if we can’t find Nina herself on the other side.”

I do so. I concentrate on the flame, which is red on the outside, then yellow, and then black in the middle.

The black draws my eye, and I find myself staring at it while I chant.

NOW

The blackness seems to grow larger. I want to blink, but I can’t.

I keep chanting.

I become aware of Maria, who is talking.

“Are you there? Are you there? I need to find someone, and I’m asking for your help. Are you there? Are you…”

She looks at me. I can see her on the periphery of my vision, in somewhere that is not the dead eye of the candle. The words continue to form on my lips.

“Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Inanna.”

“Darren?”

I try to look away from the candle. It won’t happen.

“Darren, you need to stick to the chant. Please, for both of us.”

I try to tell her that I am, but I can’t stop myself from chanting.

And I realise that my chant has changed.

“Isis, astarte diana, hecatagen, fe’nglooee, miglu aknaf cuth ooloo, relyeh, wagar, nagal fetagen”

“Darren, stop.”

Fetagen, fengluee, mglu aknafcuth, ooloor’lyeh, wgar, nagal, fetagen.”

“Darren, stop” She screams, but I can’t.

“Ph’nglui, mglw’nafh, cuthooloo r’lyeh wgah’nagl, fatagn”

I try to move, but I can’t.

The words keep forming.

“Ph’nglui mglw’nafh cthulhu r’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn.”

Magic Falls Part Seventeen

“You….what?” I ask, totally off-guard.

“mercy we want mercy”

“I…who from? From me?”

“yes from you mercy from you we beg darrenoneill we beg for mercy”

They seem to now have completely shrunk in front of me. The two aspects of them that I could see earlier, the two perspectives, have now deadened. The glamour is no longer there, and now I just see some small, desperate fairies making brainwashed children dance.

There aren’t too many children. Five..no, six. But they’re crying and exhausted, all of them. And underweight visibly.

“Let them stop.” I say, feeling my own anger rising in my voice.

“we…i…we cannot for long we need them to – “

“LET THEM STOP!” I roar at them, lost in my own fury. “They’re children!  They’re exhausted! Let them stop, now!”

They hesitate again, but when I take a step towards them, they cower back.

“we stop them we stop them we stop them we do as you ask we stop them”

As if their strings have been cut, the children drop to the ground, exhausted.

I walk over to them.

“no we stopped them you must speak to us now not them leave – “

“Shut up,” I say, ignoring them. “I’m speaking to them first.”

For the first time since I woke up in there, there are no other noises other than gasping and whimpering from scared, exhausted children.

“Kids….hey, kids,” I say.

Some of them look over at me.

“This is going to be okay, I promise. Okay?”

They look scared.

“Is one of you Andrea Whittaker?”

A little girl with brown hair raises her hand. I walk over to her and kneel in front of her. “Hi there,” I say. 

“I’m a friend of your daddy’s, and I’m going to take you home to him as soon as I’ve finished with the people who took you, okay?”

She sniffs and looks up at me with reddened eyes. “I want to go home.” She says, flatly.

“I’m going to get you home as soon as I can. All of you,” I say looking around at the others. “We’re going to be out of here very soon, so just sit still for a few minutes. Can you do that for me?”

To be honest, from the state of exhaustion they’re in, I don’t think they could go far.

“They need water,” I say to the fairies.

“we….we will….”

“I’m taking them away from here.”

“NO!” they scream at me this time, and they attempt to push their glamour harder, turning themselves into enormous demons staring down at me.

I stand and look at them, and start making my way towards them, challenging them. The glamour doesn’t last, and they shrink in on themselves like they’ve deflated, their snarl caught in their throat.

“Why me?” I ask. “Why did you want to talk to me?”

“…..”

“You want mercy, you want to, what, negotiate?” I say.

“neeeee-goa-teeee-aaate”

“Then you start by explaining the deal. And if I were you, I’d start fast, because I’m about to walk out of here with the children.”

“no not the children please not the children please not - "

“What do you need them for?”

“……we hunger”

“You feed on them?”

“….no we do not feed on them no we feed….. we feed from them…..feed from their work their effort their dancing we feed”

“And when they can’t go on any more?”

“we......we find more”

I turn back to the children as I continue to speak to them.

“Then what makes you think that I’d be in any way interested in negotiating?”

“the war is coming and we know what you lost what you will lose”

They say it slyly, creeping towards me. I stop, frozen, thinking about Nina.

“Don’t you dare.”

“we know what you lose what you lost and we can help we can help you save it”

I think. I wait.

“all we want is the children that is all just them just enough just to feed just to be remembered”

“No.”

“please all we want is to be remembered magic is falling it is falling and we fall with it if we are forgotten please just mercy when they tell your legend - ”

“You don’t get mercy. You feed on children.” I’m scared of what I’m giving up. I’m scared of walking out of the deal. But I have to. “You don’t get to be remembered.”

I walk to the children, and I take Andrea’s hand, and I tell the rest of them to follow me. Now the glamour has fallen, I can see my way back to the circle… or at least to a circle. It may be ill-judged confidence, but I can feel their panic rising as I walk away from them.

“you will die but you will die after her after she dies screaming after your child dies”

I hold the children’s hands, and we stand in the circle.

“Nobody will ever use this circle again. And every circle I find, I’ll destroy,” I say, my anger at them refusing to fall. “You know who I am. You know what I am. You tried to threaten me, and I can take that. I even know that you feed on children because you’re desperate, because you’re hungry. And I may not be able to blame you for that, but that doesn’t mean that I won’t try to stop you.”

“no please we did not mean it please stay just leave one just leave one just one child please just leave one”

“You want my help to be remembered. To survive. To feed. That’s all you want, isn’t it?”

I can feel the circle letting us through now, beginning to send us back to Bretton.

“yes all we want is to survive please just leave one child please let us survive please let us feed”

“No.”

“but you will kill us if we cannot feed on the children we must feed on them we must”

“You don’t get them. You don’t get it, do you?” I say, as their world begins to fade from site and I can begin to see the trees around the circle back in Bretton again.

“This is a war and you aren’t on our side.”

And then we’re back in Bretton.

And Jack is there, and he runs over and he holds Andrea, and she holds him, and I feel so exhausted right now.

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” he says to me.

“I…” The rest of the kids make their way out of the circle and gather. “They need help. They need to go home.”

Something about Jack is bothering me. Why does he look so different?

“I came every day,” he says holding Andrea. “I didn’t give up.”

God, I’m tired. Why does Jack have a beard? He didn’t have a beard earlier.

“Jack…how long was I down there?” I ask.

“….you…” he looks at me, and everything begins to swim. 

"....how long?"

“You were down there for three months.”

I pass out.

Magic Falls Part Sixteen

“What have you done with the children?” I ask, trying to ignore the music which is edging its way into my brain.

“dance with us do it dance with us”

My vision splits again, and this time, it seems like I’m looking at them surrounding me, stood perfectly still, while also being aware that they’re all dancing. All of them. Some of them just bobbing mildly, but others whirling around frenziedly.

And I look around for a moment, trying again to process the conflicting images in my eyes and head, and then I see the children.

There are maybe a dozen of them, and they’re all dancing. Some of them are crying. They look exhausted, and I wonder if one of them is Andrea.

Seeing them like that snaps me back into my own head for a moment, and gives me something to distract myself from the constant thumping of the music.

“You’re hurting them!” I shout at them.

One of them (or is it all of them?) replies:

“no not hurting just dancing they dance with us forever we keep it fun for them”

The music is back, stronger than before, and now it begins to hurt my head. Throbbing in time with the beat, which makes me want to join it, to dance.

The pressure in my head feels like it wants to explode out of my ears, eyes, nose and mouth in a torrent of blood and bile. I struggle against it, still trying to make sense of them.

“What happens when they can’t dance any more?” I ask quietly, sweat dripping down my face.

They start their light laughing again, which gives me some irritation to focus on at the very least.

“they don’t stop why would they stop they keep dancing until they can’t dance no more can’t dance no more”

“Why… why do you force them to do that?”

“no not force never force just let them dance let the music do its work”

God help me, I can feel the music.

“What do you get out of it?” I ask.

For a moment, the music falters as they hesitate in answering.

“they make us stronger their dancing it feeds us it nourishes us it makes us…more”

They feed on them. The children. Of course they do. They use the music to force them to dance, and then they feed on them like leeches.

My body wants to join it, even if my mind is rebelling against the music. It can feel it, mirroring my heartbeat, and wanting to join it, wanting to throw myself in and forget everything, just be part of the stream of music.

I can feel the dance beginning in my heart and infecting the rest of me, and I try to focus on Nina, on Maria, on Jack, on Andrea, even on bloody Jamie bloody Moore….

“dance with us dance with us join our dance dance with us”

No, there’s something else, isn’t there?

Something I’m forgetting.

Something Jamie said.

Think about who they prey on. That’s what he said, wasn’t it?

I try, one last time to ignore the pounding in my head from the music, and concentrate on that.

What did he mean?

They prey on children.

Why do they prey on children? Who preys on children? In the wild, who preys on baby birds, on eggs, on cubs, on….

I breathe in and out slowly for a moment, trying to stop fighting what I’m seeing and hearing.

They are beautiful and horrible. I am drawn to them and repelled by them.

“dance with us”

But now I have their measure. Now I know what they are.

“No.” I say, as I allow the music to wash over me, and I decide not to dance to it. That easily. I just decide it.

“but you want to you want to dance with us”

And now there’s a tone in their voice that there wasn’t before.

Fear.

“No.” I say again, and I walk towards them now. “No. I thought you were powerful, but you’re not, are you?”

They withdraw from me, and they now look so much smaller than they did earlier.

“You prey on children, because you’re not strong enough to prey on adults. Are you?”

“no not true not true we are powerful do not test us we are more powerful-“

I laugh at them, bitter and full of scorn.

“I’m standing right here. Bring me down if you want to, but I don’t think you can. I think you have to try and trick your way, and that’s why you work on children. But you brought a child of a friend of mine here, and you did it to speak to me.”

The music has stopped now, and they’re all regarding me carefully.

“So, I’m here.” I say. “What do you want?”

And then they do something I am not expecting.

They fall to their knees.

All of them.

“mercy”

Magic Falls Part Fifteen

                                changes

                                                and

                                                                                                it’s

just        too

                                much                   

to

take                                     

                                                                                in

                                and

                I

   pass

out

                                                                                .

I wake up and I can’t see anything. It is dark in front of my eyes, but it’s like the darkness carries a physical weight, making everything heavier.

I raise my hand in front of my face, but I can’t see it.

I am lying on the ground, but it doesn’t feel hard. It feels soft, as if I’m lying down on the grass in a park on a summer’s day. It’s comfortable and warm.

I climb to my feet, a little unsteadily. At least the spinning sensation that overwhelmed me when I stepped into the circle is gone.

“Hello?” I say quietly. I look down and I can’t see what I’m standing on. “Hello?” I say again, this time noticing more of an edge of panic in my voice.

I grope around blindly, looking for…I don’t know. A wall, maybe. A wall means a door somewhere, and right now, a door sounds like a useful thing.

What is scaring me the most right now is how comfortable everything seems. It may be dark, but I’m warm and enveloped in the darkness. It feels almost like I’ve returned home to the womb.

Well, I think, with the first smile since I’ve woken up, I worked out a way out of there…

Moving forward carefully with my arms outstretched, it strikes me that I must look like someone doing a bad Boris Karloff Frankenstein impersonation. I wonder if I should say “Frie-e-e-nds” while I try to find my way, and the idea makes me want to giggle.

Some survival instinct deep inside me kicks in, because I stifle the giggle. Don’t laugh, it tells me. Laughter leads to laughter. Laughter to hysteria. Hysteria to madness, and if you go mad here, you’re lost forever.

“Hello?” I shout this time, and this time, I hear other voices responding.

“Hello?”

“Hello?”

“Hello?”

Most of them are young, and some of them are panicked. They feel far away and close at the same time but as more and more answer, I realise that something else has joined them, and there is something else in the darkness that is repeating it and calling out, mocking us.

But it’s given me some sense of direction. Some sense of where the voices are.

And the mocking makes me angry, and I move towards it.

“What do you want?” I shout, and the voices respond to me. The voices of children first.

“Hello?”

“Who’s there?”

“Hello?”

“Dad?”

“Hello?”

“I’m down here!”

And then the other voices, speaking more as one now.

“we want you don’t you know that we want you just as you want us”

“What have you done with them?” I shout, anger beginning to blind me more than the darkness. “What have you done with me?”

“we brought them where they wanted to be where they wanted to be where they wanted to be”

I am now running towards the voices, with no idea what to do when I reach them.

“What do you want with them?”

The voices begin to laugh now.

“just to dance”

And now I have them, and they feel so close.

I stop running.

“What are you scared of?” I ask. “Why the secrecy?”

“we are not scared no darren we are not scared”

“So let me see you.”

“is that a command?” they ask and then they laugh again.

“Let me see you.” I say, and this time, I try to make clear to them that a command is exactly what it is. My anger and my fear are lending me more strength than I realised.

And then the lights come on.

I am in something that appears to be the inside of a dark cave, with deep crevices in the cracks in the walls…no, roots, that’s what they are, roots… stretching upwards, but it also seems to be like I’m standing in the middle of a field on a summer’s day.

Everything feels near and far at the same time, and I can feel my brain trying to make sense of what I’m looking at.

“it is difficult for your sort to see us do not push against it easier if you let it be”

I try to stop fighting the illogic in what I’m looking at, and just accept it. And then I see them more clearly. They are standing around me.

Hundreds of them.

Thousands maybe.

They stand in crowds around me, both larger than I am and smaller than I am, and they line up in the crevices in the roots, and now I can hear the music, which is underneath everything.

Everything.

“dance with us”


Continue to Part 16

Magic Falls Part Fourteen

I march over to him, wanting to slap the cigarette out of his hand, but restraining myself at the last moment.

“Who the hell are you?” I snap at him.

“I’m Jamie Moore,” he says. “Old friend of Jack’s, in’t that right, Jack?”

“I’ve known Jamie for a long time,” Jack says. “A lot longer than you, Darren.”

I look back at Jack. “Then how have I never met him?”

“I’ve only just bloody met you,” he replies.

“I know,” I say. “But…” How do I explain that I’ve already known him for months and months before now? 

I know he accepts the idea, but how do I explain how well I already know him?

“Jamie’s the guy that put me in touch with you in the first place,” he says. “I know I shouldn’t have thrown away your paper, but you have to admit that your story was….well, it was weird, and then Andrea went missing, and Jamie told me you were key to it all.”

“Relax, mate,” Jamie says, walking around me and towards the circle. “The issue here isn’t me. The issue here is this thing, isn’t it?”

“Exactly,” Jack says.

“Y’see, Darren – “ he gestures around the circle. “A bunch of poncy art students sculpt stuff that mean that every kid that walks through these trees, in this secluded part of ground in a secluded area of West Yorkshire is thinking about fairies when they do it.”

He begins to walk around the circle as he talks, and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck begin to stand up. “And this is an area of highly concentrated potential for magic. There are a few of them dotted around the country. But areas where ley-lines converge in this kind of number? There aren’t many of them. Bretton Hall is one. Trafalgar Square is another. Glastonbury, Stonehenge, Avebury, the Rollright Stones...there are a handful more, but Bretton? Bretton’s the one everyone forgot about.”

“You’re walking around it widdershins,” I say to him.

“What is that?” Jack asks. “Jamie said it earlier. What is it?”

“Just means anti-clockwise, Jack, that’s all,” Jamie says, continuing to walk. “So, you’ve got this place with this high potential for magic, and then you take all of this concentrated belief of little kiddies believing that fairies live in the area. And that gives off a very bad signal.”

He stops walking. “What kind of signal?” I ask.

He lifts his foot to step into the circle. “The kind the faerie folk listen to.”

He puts his foot down and steps into the circle.

Nothing happens.

“But, see, they don’t want to speak to me.” He says. “See, I reckon Andrea is safe, because the faerie aren’t stupid. They haven’t been doing this because they suddenly got hungry or something.”

“So why are they doing it?” I ask. I’m still rankling at the feeling I’ve been manipulated, but if Jack’s daughter has been taken, then that comes first.

“They’re doing it because of you, Darren.”

Everything suddenly seems very quiet. Very still.

“What?”

“They’re doing it because of you.”

“What the… what do you mean?”

“Did Darren have something to do with Andrea’s disappearance?” Jack asks Jamie.

“Not quite, mate.” He replies. “But think about it. They take the daughter of his best friend. Of one of the Knights. That was sending a message, that was. And one that had to be delivered loud and clear.”

“Jack and I have only just met.” I point out. “How can they know about…”

“Don’t play stupid,” Jamie says, with a thin smile, and he starts walking towards me. “You came back. The faerie, they exist with a… different perception of time to us. So from their point of view, it’s already happened, and it never happened at the same time.”

“You know I came back?”

“I know. They know. Others know.”

I can’t help myself any more, and I rush him, tackling him to the ground. My hands find their way to his collar as I pin him down and shout at him. “Who are you?”

Despite the fact that he landed roughly, he isn’t winded. He just laughs in my face. “Talk about an awkward bloody question.” He says, as he pushes me gently off. “Who I am doesn’t matter. It never mattered. But you’ll find out, don’t worry.”

The laugh takes the wind out of my sails, and I slump back. “How do I know if you’re on our side?”

“You don’t.” he says, lighting another cigarette. “But you don’t have much choice. Look, if it makes you feel better, I don’t have much of a horse in this race. I’m more about keeping the status quo, and that means pushing a few things into the right places. Putting square pegs into round holes, for example. And right now, you’re a square peg, and that circle is looking awfully bloody round to me.”

“You said they want to send me a message,” I say.

“He’s a fast learner, this one, isn’t he?” he says to Jack.

“What message do they want to make clear to me?”

“I’m not sure, but I suspect they want to negotiate. Y’see, they know all about this war that’s coming, and they want to make sure that whichever side wins, they’re not on the losing one.”

“What can you tell me about them?”

“Nothing. It’s against the rules.”

“There are rules?”

“There are always rules. All I’ll tell you is this. Just think about who they usually prey on. Think about it, and otherwise, do what seems appropriate.”

I look at the circle. “Why me?”

“Because of what you are.”

“What do you mean ‘what I am’?”

“Sorry,” he says, standing up. “I misspoke. Obviously. I meant to say ‘who you are’, didn’t I?”

Didn’t he, indeed. I look over at Jack, who is looking… well, is looking completely out of his element.

I think of Nina, and I know what I have to do.

“How do I do this?” I ask. “I need to walk around it, or, say something, or…”

“For most people, sure,” he says. “If they want them. They’re absolutely sodding gasping to speak to you though, Darren. So I reckon all you have to do is to step in.”

“Will this get Andrea back?” Jack asks.

“No guarantees, my son,” Jamie says. “It’s all down to Darren, now.”

They both look at me as I walk to the circle.

I can feel a crackling around it. Like static.

I lift my foot to step into it, and then put it down inside the circle.

As my foot makes contact with the ground, it happens. I just have time to close my eyes

           and                                   

                                            then

                                everything                                          






Continue to Part Fifteen

Magic Falls Part 13

Back to Contents

I’m sure that Bretton would be rather pretty by day, but between the endless winter that’s been causing consistent dark clouds and the fact that afternoon is slipping towards evening, and it just feels desolate and cold.

We drive down past some grey buildings, and park near the bottom of them. Fields with strange sculptures sweep out to our right towards the main buildings, but I can see further out, and the fields go on and on. There’s a river in front of us.

The Hall itself is a large, imposing building. As we walk towards it, Jack points between some of the smaller buildings. “That’s the pillar I was telling you about.”

“Convergence of ley-lines?”

“Yeah.”

“Where are the police?” I ask. “If there have been kids going missing, shouldn’t this place be… I don’t know, under lock-down or something?”

“There’s nothing here, Darren,” he says. “That’s part of the problem. They’ve not found a bloody thing.”

I follow him as we walk past the hall and down towards the river.

“It’s not really good conditions for this kind of thing,” I say. “Wouldn’t we be better doing this in the daytime?”

“I want to show you where she went missing, that’s all. We can start looking around the rest of it tomorrow, but before we do anything else, I want to give you a sense of it.”

I nod. “If that’s important to you.” I don’t fully understand, but I do want to help.

“I…” he hesitates. “It just seems important. To see that bit, and then you have some sense of it.”

“Okay,” I say quietly.

He starts walking again, turning right and up a field, away from the path. The sculptures begin to get less abstract, and more defined.

“It’s not far from here,” he says. “See those trees?”

There’s a sculpture of a man crouching, but it’s giant. He’s set apart from the trees themselves. “Yeah.”

“It’s just the other side of there. This was part of the area the students got to design and build years ago.”

There are strange details, as we walk closer, including a tree in a phone box. Sculptures built into walls and paths and ponds, and utilizing the nature around them.

“I would not want to be drunk around here,” I say. The sheer strangeness of the area means that I miss the village.

“Look down,” Jack says quietly, and I do, towards the foot of the fir trees we are near, and I spot them.

A series of doors, windows and buildings carved into the trees themselves. I drop to one knee to take a proper look. “Wow.”

“I know.”

“They’re impressive.” And they are. A little fairytale village carved into trees. They look functional. “They… look like they fit.”

“They do, don’t they?” he says. “Like they’re meant to be there.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve seen it before, but…”

I stand up. “Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Why am I here?”

“What?”

“Seriously, what’s going on? There’s something here you’re not telling me.”

He looks away. “Jamie said you should be here.”

I don’t know what Jamie filled his head with, but I’m worried that Jack’s built me up as definitely being able to do something here. I feel like I’m an observer in a play, suddenly being asked to take a lead role, but with no knowledge of what’s meant to happen. Or even what my part is.

Wait.

An idea forms and instantly takes hold.

“Are you telling the truth about Andrea, Jack? I will kill you if – “

“Yes.” I see fear creep across his face, and I almost instantly lose my anger and indignation. “Yes, I’m telling the truth, about Andrea and the others. I just… Jamie convinced me that you’d be able to help, and…I’m desperate, Darren.”

“Okay.” I say. “Okay.”

The area is freaking me out slightly. More than slightly, actually. It feels like it’s…been allowed to grow wild.

“The last time she saw Andrea, she was standing here. She walked over that way – “ he points towards a path. “- for a minute, and then looked back and she was gone.”

He walks over that way and then looks back. I look around, and realize that while there are trees around, there aren’t many places to hide.

“It’s quiet enough here that if someone was around, we’d know about it, I reckon,” I point out. “Someone would have to be actively hiding to have snatched her.”

“That’s what I thought,” Jack says. “If Lorna didn’t see her, then she’d have heard something. She said she was singing a little bit to herself, and then it just stopped.”

One of the plus points about the fields surrounding this area is the comparative lack of hiding places. There are paths leading into another part of the forest, though, and I’m about to look further into them when Jack calls me back.

He points down towards me on the ground. “Look at that,” he says. “That’s strange.”

I look down. The dark, cold and rain are not sharpening my observational powers.

"What is?" I ask.

"Look at the ground. It's different around here."

I try, but for the life of me, I can't see whatever it is that he's talking about.

"What am I meant to be seeing?"

"No, not there," he says. "Take a couple of steps back, and then look again, but don't try to focus on any one part of it."

"You're making it sound like a magic eye painting. I could never do them either."

He gestures around in a circle. "Look. You see it?"

I don't, but I try to do what he says. Instead of looking intently, I try to look more generally, and take in the whole picture rather than a series of details.

And then I see it.

A darker, slightly raised piece of grass, with some mushrooms growing in it. It isn't strong, and it isn't obvious, but once you spot it, it's very much there.

"Strange, isn't it?" He says.

As I look at it, everything I know about it comes immediately to mind. All at once, unbidden.

"It's a fairy ring," I say.

"I don’t know what that is."

"You never heard about them when you were a kid?"

"I didn't pay much attention to things as a kid. I can tell you a lot about TV at the time, but not things I was told."

"They're supposedly planted by fairies. They're how they travel between their world and ours. And if you get trapped by one..."

He looks concerned all of a suddden, and I almost kick myself. "What?"

"...I don't remember. There's something though." Don't tell him about the dancing, I think.

“You know we’re both talking seriously about this, don’t you?” He asks me.

“Are we?”

“Well, I am,” he says. “I know it sounds stupid, but I am. I’m not ruling anything out. Whatever it takes to find Andrea… or…you know…what happened to her.”

I notice the effort he takes to stop his voice cracking. “Then we’re taking this seriously,” I tell him.

“So tell me what it is that happens.”

I take a moment before I do. “They’re traps. By the fairies. For children. You walk around it three times, or five times, or…whatever. It’s like ‘Bloody Mary’. Or ‘Candyman’. Something like that. You… I don’t know, you’re supposed to say a rhyme or a verse or something, and walk around it before trying to cross it."

"Widdershins." A voice that I don’t recognise says.

"What?" I look around, trying to see where it came from.

"You have to go round it widdershins. Or it doesn’t work." the same voice says.

I look behind me, and it takes me a moment to see him, and once I do, I wonder why I didn't see him earlier, as he's standing right there.

"Jamie!" Jack says, with a look of relief.

He's in his forties, I'd guess, and has dirty blonde hair. He looks smart and scruffy at the same time. He's wearing a white shirt and black tie, but it's loose and looks like he hasn't taken it off in days, and it's covered by an old, battered brown mac. He takes a drag from a cigarette. The smoke swirls around him.

"Hello, squire." Jamie says to me. "Been wondering when you'd finally turn up."

Magic Falls Part Twelve

GOING UP TO YORKSHIRE FOR A FEW DAYS. PHONE WILL BE ON IF YOU NEED ME. MISS YOU. DX

I press send and watch the message go to Nina. I know better than to call her right now. I don't want to pressure her any more than I know I already am.

"So what's going on?"Jack asks after a while.

I sit back in my seat and look out at the countryside as the train makes north. The rain streaks on the window.

"It's difficult to explain."I said.

"I think I've already shown I can take a lot in, and I need to talk about something other than Andrea for a bit," Jack said. "So, let’s go back over it all. You're from the future and we're already best friends."

"Well…not quite best friends," I say, with a slight smile. "But we get on, and we work for the same thing. The same aims."

"What's the same thing? These aims?"

I avoid eye contact and keep looking out the window. It has been a while since I've seen anything but the urban environment, and even in miserable weather, the move to browns and greens from grey and splashes of vibrant colour feels very different. There is colour in London, there's no denying that. But outside of parks and green spaces, even the trees feel grey.

"Too many things have changed already," I say, trying not to think about the Knights. "The more I try to force things to be the same as they were, the more I think I'm running the risk of guaranteeing that won't happen."

He nods. “Okay, I can accept that. Hypothetically, anyway.” He thinks it over, and then amends what he’s saying. “Well, at least when it comes to the stuff that you want to happen. But you told me that you came back because of everything that had gone wrong. So wouldn’t it be a good thing if everything were different this time?"

I wish that the whiskey last night had stayed at just the one. At three in the morning, when we were both drunk but feeling sober, I told him far more than I should have done. And he'd remembered every bloody detail.

"And you believe me on all this?" I ask.

"Not quite. But I'm not ruling anything out right now. With the way Andrea went missing, I'm trying to take into account that there may be..." He waved his hand, as his thought visibly went back to his missing daughter.

"…More things in heaven and earth?"

"Well, earth, anyway."

I nod, and sip at the coffee in front of me. It tastes awful, but part of that is down to the hangover that is currently killing me. Jack has to be suffering as well, but he's handling it a lot better.

He eyes me while I do so, and then asks a different question. "How does this... magic...: he rolls the word in his mouth as if it is a cherry gone sour. "...work anyway? Why is it all happening?"

"I don't fully know," I say.

"Do you have your theories?"

I look at him. "Yes."

"Well?"

"I think we're taking on rationality as a belief. In a way we never have before, as a species. The biggest change that the internet has made to our lives isn't Amazon, it isn't Ebay, it isn’t entertainment... it's the ability to find information."

I find I’ve warmed to the subject without even realizing it. What is it about Jack that keeps me telling him everything? I don't seem to be able to keep my mouth closed around him.

"Some would contest that," he says.

I lean forward. "We're all talking to each other more, as a species. There are kids talking on instant messenger to other schoolkids all over the world. All those beliefs, all those cultures, and we're finding out how similar we actually are. We're learning more about each other, and that's just on a person-to-person level.

"You've got websites like Snopes now, that can give you the facts behind an urban legend just by searching for it. You've got Google and Wikipedia for all those legends and myths and histories, and we begin to see how many cultures had basically the same ones.”

I sit back, and almost to my surprise, I continue talking.

"Do you know how many cultures have some kind of myth that's similar to the birth of Jesus? Virgin births turn up all over the place. Once you learn something like that, faith and belief takes a bit more of a hit than it did before. And now, we're getting so used to asking questions, getting so used to trying to find out... Christ, do you know how long it took until someone cracked how Derren Brown predicted the lottery? Less than 24 hours until someone pointed out that a ping pong ball moved and had a video with graphics showing how he probably did it on Youtube.

"People are blindly believing less and less, and when that happens… I think something starts fighting back. I think we're looking at the death of magic. I think it's fighting for its life. Because it relies on belief. And that's dying."

He sits silently for a while, and he stays that way until we pull into Wakefield Westgate.

As we walk through the station to his car, he quietly says 'I think you're right. And if this is about belief, we could be in trouble."

He opens the car door, and we begin to drive. I wait for him to elaborate as we navigate the winding roads, and take in the view. Once you get out of Wakefield, it's a beautiful area.

"I told you that Bretton used to be an arts college."

"Yes."

"I went there years ago. There's a pillar in the middle of the campus, and the story going around then was that it marked a convergence of ley-lines."

"Does it?"

"I have no idea. I don't believe in ley-lines. But then, do you know who we were told used to love walking around Bretton's grounds?"

"Who?"

"Peter Sutcliffe. The Yorkshire Ripper."

"Did he?"

"Probably not. But it doesn't matter. You take hundreds and hundreds of young people and lock them into this place in the middle of nowhere. No regular bus service after dark. Pre-internet. And they're all creative and away from home for the first time, and they spend a lot of time vulnerable and scared."

"I can see how ideas would take hold."

"More than take hold. This was like a pressure cooker here. People went insane here in their own way."

"Your point?"

"Darren, if magic feeds off belief, this was a very, very powerful place. There are all kinds of legends and myths around this place."

I look up at the clouds. It feels like night has already fallen, and it's only the afternoon. As we near Bretton, it begins to hail as if on cue.

“This place…” he says, “took my daughter. And it’s beginning to feel that…something there is waiting for us.”