She will find myrtle in her salad. Given as a sweet-cake if
her head hurt. A touch of stomach-ill, wine with its flavour.
Emily laughs, a sweet laugh. A warbler invisible in the
thicket accompanies her. She listens gaily to its laughing.
Travelling down the lane, not aware her mind is moving to a higher state, hues of the varied plants enrapture her eyes.
When she returns to her aunts after the wedding they
have promised to present all knowledge both have of how
to prepare herbs.
Once Annabell is married, Emily brushes away the need
she has to push that thought from her, then she will have more
She will not lose Annie, she knows in her heart. But the marriage
with Edward will bring change. The rings Annie purchased
are waiting. Just as Edward and Annie will be joined, they
also, Annie and she will be joined.
Returning to Aunt Emily, to Aunt Karen, her assisting
at Lentwiss school, she’ll have time to learn of the herbs. All will be explained of the magic Fairy-worlds, all that her
aunt’s mother and her mother before, and all the mothers
before have learnt and stored inside them. She has been
promised the High Secrets will be given her. She here in
this world will receive the secrets of her soul family.
The narrow lane widens. In the distance a mass of pink
heather. “Emily you are the generation upcoming,” Aunt Karen
has said to her so many times. “The present and the future.
You will be the keeper of our knowledge for your time.”
Approaching the fallen stones she jumps off the pony.
“Thank you my love for the ride.”
Walking Milly across to the wading stream she pats her.
“Time for you to have rest and a drink. I hear children
laughing. I am going to them.”
Already she knows. The fallen rain-washed stones are the stone circle from so many years past. Sitting upon one, closing her eyes, she sees children playing. A young women weaves between them dancing. Emily watches this woman.
Upon the red, the green, the purplish-brown softness of the moss that has grown upon the stone, she slides her body so that her head rests upon this cushion made by nature.
Her dream becomes twenty people all in a circle seated. Some chat, some laugh, some bowing their head, holding bead strings in their fingers, praying.
An older woman appears now in her mind. She knows
it is she in her soul memory. The woman in a gown, white
shimmering, walks to a stone table that has seashells.
One shell has inside tiny white rock glistening in the sun, this she knows is salt. Another has earth, dry and brown. Another has clear liquid taken from the stream. Around the shells, three large orb crystals sparkle.
The woman picks up a metal bell from the table, clangs
once, twice, thrice. A wand begins to float upwards from
where it has lain, the wand caught by the woman who holds
it upright in her hand.
A dart of light begins to appear from the tip of the wand,
this light flashing from some inner ether. A causation of
energy is taking place connecting the three orb crystals.
Between the crystals and the wand an exquisite sapphire
radiance appears. The woman holding the wand towards
all those seated, this radiance becoming a shower of halos.
As Emily watches, the sea-blue halos enter each being, and
as the light glistens, the human bodies disappear.
Emily sits upright. Not a rabbit or snake, not the grass,
not the bell heather, not even the fern moves. A reed
bunting nesting out in the long grass answers to some sense of desolation that has descended twk, twk, tit tit wee.
Then the rush of lust sweeps her body.
“Oh! Mr. Morton.” Emily shades her eyes from the
“Just arrived, Emily.” Across the back of the cigarette
case a match is struck. Drawing deeply the young man
asks, “Do you like these ruins, Emily?”
“The ruins, sir.”
“You know of them?”
“Yes! From a former time. Is that why we are here?”
Lawrence, who no longer is Lawrence, points to the
hillock filled with pink heather off in the distance. “That
is where the stones were when you sacrificed my child.”
“Sacrificed your child, sir?”
“Up there Emily, where you killed my boy. Do you
remember killing my boy, Emily.”
“Not me, sir!”
“But you own it. Is that not why we are here, EMILY!”
Audacious, disrespectful, impertinent, his harsh voice
brings out all the ugliness.
“Are you going to kill me, sir?”
There is raucous laughter with that.
“Ah! But that I might, Emily. But that I might. But
then who would have my child! The angel has informed you
has he not?”
“Yes sir. He has informed me that I may choose not to
fulfil this contract if I wish.”
“Do you wish, Emily.”
“I will proceed as has been designed, sir.”
“Why, Emily? For what reason. What is this woman
so long passed to you?”
“Because I have been asked, sir.” As Emily speaks a
tear is in her eye.
“Then we will proceed.” The voice has darkened. The
cigarette thrown away.
Dread and horror passes through her as she sees this
power peering from those eyes.
It watches as a young roe fawn might freeze.
It now begins to loosen the buttons of his trousers.
Emily, her throat choked, grasps for whatever might
help her. Then the earring, shining red gems as
eyes, come to her. ‘Azgar, my serpent.’ the young woman
had spoken. ‘Azgar is a serpent of luck.’
He begins to laugh.
As she stands immobile, the hand begins to fondle her
bosom. “You will show me all your rooms. I am not the
evil you think I am.”
In the touch, instinctively she pushes him away.
He watches as the fear seeps through her. “My, I’ll be a
duck’s arse, you know everything is for me to explore,
don’t you Emily.” Then a hesitation comes upon him. He
withdraws his hand.
“What do you think of the old fireplace?” he points to
a flat stone upright that has kept intact its shape. “I heard
rumour this place they now call the devil’s cottage.”
“They say men and women, even young children would be tied to trees and flogged here. For sacrifice you know. Some to be burned. Some hung. The screams, Emily. If you could hear the screams. Those that were burned were the worst. To waken and bring forth the evil one, Emily. Can you picture we would do such? Only humans, Emily. Only humans!”
“Trees!” Emily in her mind focuses upon the earring.
It has taken her inside the largest tree. She is one with its
wisdom. It is guarding her.
“Much evil, Emily,” the young man’s face closes upon her. “You feel the Master touching you, Emily.” His hands clutch at her now exposed breast.
“You should not have killed MY CHILD.”
Then he steps back. In his mind a voice cries, ‘Treat her well. Treat her kindly. You must not harm her.’
He smiles. “Let yourself go, little one. So delicate, so
young, so pure you are. I want you little one. I do want you. I want to explore your rooms. I do not wish to hurt you.”
His eyes on fire, he tastes the salt moisture around her mouth. Licks the drops as they have formed. “Soon I will be inside, little one. Soon you and I will be together. Then it will be over.”
His tongue moves down to her breasts, licks the red nipples. “I do want you Emily. It is not by accident in your
fine splendour you have been created for my appeasement.”
But Emily is no longer with her body. She has Azgar, the Serpent-God, and the young woman is smiling. She does not see as he pulls at her skirt. She does not feel as he touches.
Only her body shudders as he slides his hand into her
most private area, as he holds her there
“Little one,” he murmurs, “Now I fill you.”
Her body upon the ground, as the young man’s member
pushes, as slowly it moves inside her depths, it, the demon
Ecnerwal, supplicant incubus within the energy of the High
Being, ‘The Other,’ feels the warm, wrapping of her flesh.
Pushing, withdrawing, her body completely allowing, a
vast ocean sea has opened for the incubus. Then as mind,
inner ether and outer body meet, the sudden fluid of
sugar discharging from the prostate, semen rising from the
testes, penis shooting, Lawrence’s seed swims upwards into
Emily’s body shudders. The mouth screams, silently
And when the scream ceases, Emily opens her eyes.