The Memory of Snow (14 page)

And far up on the ruins of Carrawburgh, a hazy figure stood
watching the scene below. She had always loved it here, and now she was part of
it forever.

2010

It was fuzzy and unclear through the blizzard, but what Liv
saw could not be doubted. A group of men seemed to be pawing a young,
half-naked girl, and the sides of the temple were lined with other men
watching. It all happened in silence. One man, a dark, cloaked figure seemed to
thrust something into the girl’s leg. 

Liv began to run through the central aisle, but it was like
running through treacle.

‘Stop it! Stop it!’ she cried. Her legs wouldn’t move fast
enough, but she gave no thought to what she would do when she actually got to
the people. A group of other men seized the girl. The girl twisted around to
face Liv, and then dropped to her knees. The image of the girl raised her bound
hands to Liv and Liv automatically reached out to her. Then, just as quickly,
the shape of the man with the staff hit the girl across the shoulders and she
slumped to the ground.

‘No!’ shouted Liv. She threw herself towards the girl and her
hand clasped around nothing. The image disappeared, but the snow still came
down, falling thickly, covering the altars and the statues. Liv didn’t feel
cold, but she was shaking. She stood up and stared at the spot where the girl
had been.  A name suddenly popped into her head.

‘Meggie,’ she said out loud, startling herself. ‘The witch
whose ashes they put in the burn. I think I’m cracking up. It’s all that
research...’ Liv stood for a moment, the girl’s face clear in her mind. Then
she backed away from the altars, as if she was in a trance. Her bag lay
forgotten where she had dropped it and she turned as she reached the old lobby.
Liv left the temple, not thinking about where she was going.

It was as if something had taken control of her body.
Automatically, she headed towards the kissing gate and followed the path around
the edge of the temple.

I have to go to the Well, she told herself. I need to go to
Coventina’s Well. She drifted across the little wooden plank that made a bridge
across the stream. Her footsteps barely showed in the fresh snowfall. She
turned right, and moved towards the Well. Her mind was full of strange words
and images. There was the girl at the temple, who had to be fair-haired Meggie.
Then another face appeared to her. A dark haired, dark eyed girl who seemed to
be waiting by the side of the path. There was a hum of voices, more chanting
and then the dark haired girl whipped her head around, her expression changing
into one of fear then anger.

‘Vos proditor mihi. Quod iam vos capto dico mihi is eram a
erroris.’

Then Liv heard a man’s voice answering her.

‘Is eram. Puto mihi. Ego did non vilis is.’

‘Vos iuguolo mihi.’

‘Ego sum rumex. commodo indulgeo mihi. ego diligo vos.’

...you betrayed me. And now you tell me it was a mistake

...it was. Believe me. I did not mean it.

...you killed me

...I am sorry. Please forgive me. I love you

‘Stop it!’ sobbed Liv. ‘I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t
want to hear all this!’ She covered her ears with her hands and stumbled
onwards, trying to squeeze her eyes shut, but the images kept on coming and the
voices kept on talking.

Liv found herself standing by the remains of Coventina’s
Well. She was trembling and crying, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her
hand. She stared into the muddy pool, and again all sorts of images flashed
through her mind - men throwing altars and statues into the water; a young girl
kneeling by the side of it, whispering mystical words and casting handfuls of
herbs into it. A man floating face down in it, his white shirt ballooning up
around his lifeless body...

Liv felt something hard and cold being pressed into her hand
and she gasped as she looked down and saw a tiny, bone-handled knife clutched
in her fingers.

‘Oh no, please. This isn’t right!’ she cried. She turned
around, looking for whoever had pushed it into her palm; a shimmering, glowing
figure melted into the hillside and a dark shape formed on the top of the fort.

‘Servo vestri,’ urged a girl’s voice. ‘Protect yourself. You
cannot trust him. Learn by our mistakes...’

‘Who is this?’ cried Liv. ‘Where are you?’

‘We are everywhere,’ whispered the voice. ‘We are the
Guardians of this place...’

As Liv stared at the spot where she thought the voice was
coming from, she felt a light pressure on her shoulder. A hand grasped it and
then sharply pulled her around to face its owner.

2010

A man’s face swam in front of Liv’s. All she could see
clearly were his blue eyes pleading with her. She tried to pull away from him,
a scream catching in her throat.

‘Please tell her,’ begged the man. ‘Tell Aemelia I am sorry.
It was a mistake...’

‘You killed me!’ cried a girl. It was the dark-haired one;
the one whose face had flashed in front of Liv’s vision. ‘I cannot forgive you
for that.’ Liv somehow understood the words. She felt the crushing pain of both
the man and the woman physically draining her. She tried to shake the man’s
hand off her shoulder, but he held her in a strong grip; an unearthly cold was
burning through her clothing and touching her skin.

‘They made me, I had no choice. I did not know!’ said the
man.

‘He’s telling the truth,’ said a female voice. ‘Aemelia,
allow him a chance to explain. You know his action was pre-destined. It’s all a
part of what we are...’ The blonde girl from the temple appeared out of the
blizzard. Her white shift gleamed like frost against the snow.

‘No,’ replied the dark girl sharply. ‘It is too late. He has
no place here and I have work to do. Meggie, ask him to leave. I want no part
of his dishonesty.’

Liv flinched as the man’s hand gripped her shoulder even tighter.
The atmosphere was oppressive, the snow still whirling around. Liv began to
sob. She didn’t understand any of this. The man’s grip slackened on her
shoulder and he turned to face the dark eyed girl: Aemelia. Aemelia’s shape
blurred into the snow and disappeared and the man followed a fraction of a
second afterwards.

The fair haired girl watched them vanish and her shoulders
slumped as if in defeat. Then she turned to face Liv. The spirit girl moved
closer to Liv, watching her intently. It was as if she was trying to work
something out, as if she recognised her on some level. Liv had the sudden urge
to apologise to her, to say she was sorry for not saving her from the man with
the stick and the mob in the temple. Without thinking, Liv reached out to her.
Meggie reached out at the same time, and had there been any substance to
Meggie’s form, their fingers would have touched. Liv forced herself to stay
still, although her knees were threatening to buckle under her at any minute.
She managed to stay upright and her breath came in frightened little bursts as
Meggie stared at her unblinkingly. It seemed to Liv that Meggie had become a
little clearer, more solid looking. Yet she knew in her heart what this girl
was.

‘You were there at the temple,’ Meggie said eventually. Her
voice was clear and soft, rolling with a Northumbrian burr that Liv had never
considered. ‘I know who you are now. I thought you were Coventina. I thought
you had come to save me.’ Her face twisted a little, the painful memory
returning. ‘I understand why nobody came. I’ve learnt the reasons.’ Liv opened
her mouth to protest but Meggie tilted her head to one side and smiled. ‘No,
don’t worry,’ she continued. ‘This is a strange place. Sometimes our worlds
collide. You and I were there at different times, but our spirits are
connected. It’s like Aemelia. She couldn’t stop what happened to me; but she
had gone before, and she wanted to protect me in the only way she could.
Aemelia doesn’t have my beliefs. She learned to accept them when she became a
Guardian here. If only she would accept his.’ She shook her head. ‘Perhaps now
you are here, we can close the circle and she can listen to him. Truly listen
to him, with her heart as well as her mind. She knows she is part of this, as
much as I am.’

‘I –I wish I could have saved you,’ whispered Liv. ‘If I’d
only been there properly...’ Meggie smiled slightly, a vestige of bitterness in
it. Yet Liv knew she wasn’t blaming her.

‘You couldn’t have saved me, even if you had been at my side
as a sister,’ said Meggie. ‘Nobody could have. I accept that now. The same
thing would have happened to you. You see things like I did. You feel things.
That is why the spirits have brought you here. I would have feared for you. He
would have taken you as well.’

‘Who would have taken me? The man who...the man who..’ she
couldn’t bring herself to say ‘killed you’.

‘Yes. Him. But you would have faced a worse demon before
that.’ Meggie frowned, remembering. ‘All I wanted was to be peaceful and to be
loved. I only wanted to help people. But it went wrong...all because of Charles
Hay. I can’t forgive him for what he did to me. And for what he did to Alice.’
Meggie moved closer to Liv and laid her translucent hands over Liv’s. A current
of energy flowed into her and Liv cried out as a succession of images flashed
through her mind like a film reel. There was a young girl with laughing eyes,
then the same girl lying dead in a filthy cottage. An image of a church and
then the sensation of being manhandled out of the building. There was crying
and begging and finally a man’s face with arrogant eyes staring at her
accusingly.

‘What did you do?’ asked Liv. ‘What did I just see?’

‘I showed you some of my life,’ said Meggie, satisfied. ‘I
was right. We do have a connection. You wouldn’t have seen it otherwise.
Charles Hay. He is the one who is to blame. My poor Alice. She was only
seventeen. ‘

‘I’m seventeen,’ whispered Liv. ‘And that girl. Was it Alice?
She looked like me.’

‘She’s a lot like you, isn’t she?’ said Meggie. ‘She had dark
hair like yours. And the same colour eyes.’ Meggie raised one hand and stroked
Liv’s hair. It felt to Liv as if a gentle breeze were lifting the dark strands.
Meggie smiled sadly. ‘Hay would have taken you as he took her. But Alice is
safe now. He lost the power to hurt her when she died. It was the people she
left behind who felt the pain. It was me who killed Alice. It was my fault. I
should never have given her the potion. I would never have hurt her willingly,
though. Do you understand that?’ Meggie stared at Liv, as if asking for
absolution from this girl who looked so much like her friend.

‘Those people were cruel!’ said Liv. ‘They were all evil. You
weren’t a witch at all. I’m so sorry...’ she began to cry, feeling ridiculous
that Meggie’s words could have affected her like this. She remembered the story
of the witch’s ashes flowing through the burn and felt helpless.

 ‘They just didn’t know any better,’ said Meggie. ‘But
Alice didn’t blame me.’ Meggie laughed, disbelievingly. ‘She told me afterwards,
you know. She managed to come back and find me. I shouldn’t have been
surprised. This place is full of something magical. So much has happened here,
but it can affect people in different ways, you know. I used to see the soldier
on the fort up there. You saw him too, didn’t you?’

A memory flashed into Liv’s mind from earlier that morning –
the dark shape up on Carrawburgh. It seemed an age ago.

‘That was a soldier?’ whispered Liv. She blanched, suddenly
realising something ‘Was he the one who was talking about Aemelia?’ She looked
around her, trying to see a vestige of the couple who had been speaking in the
strange language. Latin. It had been Latin.

‘I hope they can finally make peace,’ sighed Meggie. ‘This
sacred place of ours – we guard it and protect it, but there has always been
something missing. I think that’s what you’re here for. You were drawn to it,
weren’t you? Just like we were. Knowledge and passion are so very powerful.
I...’ Suddenly, she looked up, and stared behind Liv’s head. Meggie’s eyes
widened and a look Liv could not identify flashed across her face. It was fear
and horror and shock, all mixed together.

‘No! No! What is he doing here?’

 Meggie still had hold of one of Liv’s hands, and Liv
felt her clutch it tighter. It was an instinctive reaction – even now, whoever
this person was, he could affect her like this.

Liv turned quickly. The man she had glimpsed in her vision
was staring at Meggie with the same arrogant eyes he had possessed in life.
This man’s spirit was dark; almost as dark as the soldier’s and Liv knew it was
Charles Hay. His spirit was made of a blackness that was different to that of
the soldier. The soldier had radiated sorrow, self-hatred and regret. This man
emanated pure evil. Liv shrank away as the man moved silently, a dark shadow
leaching into the area around the Well.

‘Praise be to the forces that have released me,’ he said
quietly. ‘Yet look at this place. It is nothing more than a piece of boggy
ground. It has no power over anybody now. I have waited a long time for this.’
He approached Meggie and Liv. Liv felt Meggie’s hand contract even more around
her fingers.

‘You can’t harm us any more,’ whispered Meggie. ‘Our power is
greater than your evil. As Guardians of Coventina’s Well and servants of the
sacred deities that protect this place, we order you to leave.’ Liv could feel
a slight tremor in Meggie’s hand. The shimmering figure wavered as if the ghost
of Hay was draining her energy somehow.

‘Whose power?’ sneered Hay. ‘You have no power. You are the
same as you were – a sad, lonely witch who wanders the moors because nobody
wants you. Oh, poor, dear, little Meg.’ In one swift motion, he left the place
where he stood and was at Meggie’s side. Meggie’s shape flickered again. Liv
could tell she was losing confidence. The man who had haunted her life was
still haunting her death.

Liv looked around, searching for Aemelia. She knew Meggie
needed Aemelia’s strength and sent a silent plea out to the universe for
Aemelia to return. The Guardians had to work together to protect the area from
evil and treachery. Meggie and Aemelia had turned it back into a sacred place
and wiped the brutality away from it. They had cleansed it. Hay couldn’t be
allowed to tarnish it any more. Liv saw two figures on the fort, faint through
the still-falling snow: Aemelia and her soldier.

‘She’s on the fort!’ burst out Liv. ‘They’re both up there…’

Hay whipped his head around and those arrogant eyes were
staring at Liv.

‘What is she?’ he asked, his voice full of scorn. ‘Does she
protect this place as well?’ He pushed his face right up to Liv’s and Liv felt
sickened. His hair was hanging around his face, some of it still tied back in a
ragged old ribbon, and his shirt was dripping what might have been water all
over the ground. A jagged cut ran from one side of his neck to the other.
Another current of energy flowed through Meggie’s hand and once again Liv saw
flashes of what had happened. This man was cursed; she gagged as she visualised
his death. It was almost as bad as Meggie’s; but worse in that fact that nobody
wielded the knife that killed him. She saw him clutch his neck and fall from
his horse, coughing and choking as the blade cut deep into the flesh. Blood
spurted out of his veins and he writhed on the ground trying to fend off his invisible
attacker. At the end of it, a white mist wrapped itself around his body. It
lifted him up and the body was tossed into the Well, as if it was completely
weightless.

‘Ah. Another enchantrix, yes? Another charmer. You are part
of this then. I see my Meg has taught you well,’ hissed Hay, reading the terror
in Liv’s eyes. ‘Can you see what happened to me? What she did to me? Do not be
fooled by her. She is a murderess. Did she tell you she killed her best friend?
Poor, little Alice. So sad. Yet, you look so like her. I could almost…’ He
reached his hand out and touched her hair as Meggie had done. Only this time,
it was like cold, slimy seaweed wrapping around her skull and she ducked away
from him.

‘Be strong, Olivia,’ murmured Meggie, staring at Hay in
disgust. ‘He can’t hurt you…’

There was a humming noise in Liv’s ears and the atmosphere
shifted. She staggered a little as Aemelia appeared by the trio. Aemelia
grasped Meggie’s free hand, and held her own up. Some inexplicable force flung
Hay away from Liv. He growled and tried to push back through them, into the
centre of the odd little circle, but something was stopping him.

‘Olivia,’ Aemelia said. She spoke in heavily accented English
now. ‘I know that name.’ Her sloe-black eyes cleared as she remembered
something else. ‘She took me to him. She was paid well for it. But he killed
her anyway. Then he took the money back.’

‘It’s not her,’ said Meggie. ‘Let it go. Marcus has come to
you asking for forgiveness…’

‘Marcus?’ asked Liv. ‘So that’s his altar..?’

‘What?’ snarled Aemelia, turning on Liv. ‘That man tells me
stories he expects me to believe, then you tell me that you know about the
altar. That temple is an insult to Christianity.’

‘No!’ cried Liv. ‘It wasn’t like that!’

‘Silence!’ ordered Aemelia. ‘You know nothing.’

‘Aemelia,’ said Meggie, a warning in her voice. She was
stronger now that Hay was contained. ‘It is thanks to this girl that Marcus has
found you. She was meant to come here, as we were, to help us; and you have
accepted my beliefs, so why can’t you do the same with Marcus? You did before.
He hasn’t changed. He’s been trapped here alone. We at least had each other.
Take her hand. If we can somehow close the circle, we can stop this. We can
send...him...back and we can help Marcus...’

Aemelia stared at Liv and dropped her hand slightly. She
frowned, looking through Liv at something only she could see. Finally
satisfied, she raised her chin and touched her fingertips tentatively to Liv’s
arm. She did not feel ready to touch her hand just yet, but she spoke softly.

‘My Olivia betrayed me. She led me straight into that other
man’s trap. I cannot move away from that. Your name... it holds many memories
for me.’ The thought confused her. It took enough away from her concentration
to break whatever control she had over Hay. He took his chance, feeling the
release as his bindings broke. With a great roar he reared up.

‘You are all witches!’ he screamed. Meggie cried out, and
sent one more burst of energy towards Liv. It flickered and fizzed between
their fingertips. The energy flashed around the girls, encircling them like a
haze of fireflies, but not before Hay managed to burst through the centre of
the group, a black ball of energy breaking them up. The girls were forced apart
and Liv felt a burning in her palm where she still held the small bone-handled
knife.