Time of Blood. Robin Jarvis
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be the same one you’re thinking of, not after all this time. That’s dead and done with and washed away.’
‘I wish I could believe that. Much was left unexplained back then, and I am ill at ease. There is an evil abroad this night.’
Hesper shrugged. She took no interest in the affairs of humanfolk. The tribe was forbidden to have dealings with them. She was however fascinated by their bathing machines. When Nettie explained their function to her she fell about laughing. The idea that people would clamber inside via the back door, change secretly into different clothes, have the whole contraption pulled by a horse into the sea where those same people would emerge through the front door, step down into the water and immerse themselves, was the most absurd and overcomplicated ritual she’d ever heard.
Still, one thing was certain: Silas was not hiding inside one of them – they had checked.
Hesper resumed wafting her hands through the mist.
‘When the time comes,’ she said dreamily, ‘it’ll be on a night such as this that the moonkelp blooms.’
Nettie chuckled. ‘I haven’t heard you mention that old tale for many a year. It’s good to hear you –’
Her voice stopped abruptly. Above the nearby stone pier there was a rumble like distant thunder. The air shook and the surrounding mist began to boil and curl. It was sucked up over the stonework, then swirled and twisted with mounting force to form a whorling vortex.
‘Nine times bless me!’ Hesper declared, holding on to her friend in alarm. ‘What witchery is this?’
The coiling vapour stretched the length of the pier, becoming a wildly spinning tunnel that whipped and thrashed in every direction. At the furthest end, close to the lighthouse, a maelstrom of sparks and embers exploded into existence and roared through, igniting a pathway of purple fire. There was a dazzling blast of violet lightning and the uncanny corridor twisted faster and faster, branching with crackling, fiery veins.
‘Look there!’ Hesper cried. ‘You see?’
Nettie could only nod in answer, her large sea-grey eyes sparkling with reflections of that unearthly spectacle.
Within the tunnel a shape was forming. At first it was just an indistinct blur, but with every rapid pulse of light and peal of thunder it grew more solid and the aufwaders saw it was a human figure. Helplessly it tumbled forward, hurtling uncontrollably down the lashing tunnel, arms and legs dangling, head jolted from side to side. With dismay they realised it was little more than a child.
Punching through the seething fog, the figure went rolling on to the ground and lay there motionless. The blazing tunnel behind flared, and a blizzard of sizzling cinders whooshed over the pier. There was a snap of light, then all was dark and the vortex dissipated. The mist shrank back and the night was still once again.
Hesper slapped her face and rubbed her eyes.
‘By the Three ’neath the waves!’ she spluttered. ‘What were that?’
Nettie did not know, but she pulled away from her, anxious to investigate.
‘Leave it be!’ Hesper hissed.
‘They must be hurt!’
‘But it’s a maggoty landbreed!’
Nettie shook her head in disappointment. ‘You sound just like Silas when you say words like that.’
Hurrying on to the pier, she ran to where the figure was sprawled on the ground.
At first Nettie thought it was a boy because of the trousers it wore – human females were always in skirts or dresses. But brushing the hair from its face she saw it was a girl, no older than twelve or thirteen. The unusual clothes were singed and smoking and the girl’s skin was peppered with weird, glowing blisters.
Kneeling beside her, Nettie felt for a pulse. It was weak, but the stranger was alive. Then the aufwader made another discovery and she caught her breath in shock.
‘Come away!’ Hesper pleaded, having followed her. ‘They’re not our concern.’
‘I can’t leave her!’
‘Esau would demand you do just that! You can’t disobey the elder!’
‘Esau isn’t here and you’re not going to tell him. She’ll die if I don’t help her! Besides, you should see this.’
Hesper approached reluctantly. She gazed down at the child’s face and her kind heart pitied her.
‘Here,’ Nettie said, directing her friend’s attention to something around the girl’s neck. It was a string threaded with three ammonites. Hesper recognised them immediately and her mouth fell open.
‘They belonged to Scaur Annie!’ she cried. ‘But how? We buried them with her.’
‘I don’t know, but I believe we just saw a doorway, and this poor child was flung through it.’
‘A doorway to where?’
‘Or when. ’
‘I don’t like this. We shouldn’t get caught up in it.’
‘Too late wishing for that. Now, will you help me? We must bear this child to a place of safety where she can be healed, if healing is possible.’
‘You’re not thinking of smuggling her into our caves?’
‘No.’
‘Where then?’
‘There is only one place. These snake stones are the sign of the Whitby witch; we must take the girl to her.’
Hesper frowned in puzzlement. ‘But how do we know who that is?’ she began, before the truth dawned on her. ‘Oh, Nettie! You’ve been disobeying Esau all this time! You consort with these humans!’
‘Only one of them. The witches of this town have never been our enemy. Help me carry this poor child to her door.’
‘Me and you walk through them people streets? Have your wits leaked out your ears?’
‘No one will see us two.’
‘Just so! To prying eyes she’ll look like she’s floating, lighter than a fleck of sea foam! Nothing strange about that!’
‘The fog will conceal her. I can’t do this without you. Please.’
Hesper chewed her lip fearfully. She glanced over at the many huddled buildings of the human town and shook her head. Then she saw how earnest her friend was and she groaned with resignation.
‘We’ll rue this, I know it,’ she muttered.
Between them, they gently lifted the unconscious girl and carried her from the pier. Even though the mist still clung to the town, Hesper’s nerves were on edge and she looked about her constantly. When they crossed the bridge into the cramped lanes of the East Cliff, she was sure every dark window held a pair of hostile eyes and felt hopelessly vulnerable.
‘How much further?’ she whispered.
‘Almost there,’ Nettie answered. ‘There’s an opening yonder – through that and we’re done.’
It was with great relief that they entered one of the many yards leading off Church Street and were able to lay the girl on the ground.
‘Now, let’s go!’ Hesper urged, eyeing the cottages around them suspiciously.
‘A moment more,’ Nettie replied, removing the string of shells from around her brow and throwing them, one by one, against an upstairs window.
Hesper folded her arms impatiently.
‘Who’s that stood standing down there?’ a stern voice called suddenly. ‘If that’s you, Eli Swales, I’ll learn you to chuck stones at the casement of a respectable widowed lady’s boudoir – I’ll give you such a clout