Read The Wind of Southmore Online

Authors: Ariel Dodson

Tags: #magic, #cornwall, #twins, #teenage fantasy

The Wind of Southmore (6 page)

BOOK: The Wind of Southmore
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Aunt Maud?”

It was
indeed Aunt Maud, almost swallowed in a dusky black overcoat, her
wispy, dishevelled hair floating around her face in the cloudy air
like Medusa’s snakes. The thin shard of moonlight hid half her face
in darkness, accentuating the length and hollowing out the corners
and crevices, until the strange contrast of pallor and shadow made
her face appear almost skeletal.


Girls, what are you doing out here?” Her voice was tense and
impatient. “I’ve told you before, Arlen, to take note of the
weather. If you can’t behave responsibly, then you won’t go out at
all.”


I’m sorry, Auntie,” Arlen answered, and from the tone of her
voice, Alice suspected that she hadn’t heard this line from Aunt
Maud before. “It came on very suddenly.”


That’s as may be,” Aunt Maud replied, “but you should know the
signs by now.” As if in answer, the wind rose around them, weaving
a path through the fog, leading towards the castle. Aunt Maud
stared at them, exasperated. “Come on. Inside, both of you.” And
she marched them up the path and through the kitchen door into the
cold stone room.

When Aunt
Maud removed her coat, the girls could not help but notice the
smudges of dirt and sand upon her apron and in her fingernails.
“Light the stove, Arlen,” she ordered, disappearing into the cellar
for some fish.

Alice
edged closer to her sister. “What do you suppose she was doing out
there?” she asked in a whisper.


I don’t know,” Arlen blew on the flame and stood up, dusting
her jeans. “But I think she knows more than she’s letting on. And I
think we’d better keep an eye on her, too.”


And they always say everyone is friendlier in villages,” Alice
sighed.

Arlen
gave a wry grin as Aunt Maud’s heavy footsteps were heard mounting
the stairs. “Welcome to Southmore.”

That
night the sky changed. The clouds blew up and released their
downpour, and the waves hurled themselves against the twins’ tower,
as if hoping to knock it down with the force, the tempest-tossed
tide churning and spewing forth the hulks of shipwrecks and the
bones of long forgotten seamen, mermaids, and tales of the old
land. Lightning cracked and spattered, forming a blazing hue of
brilliance through the night as it flung itself towards the tower,
its momentary flash illuminating the little room and throwing a
pattern of strange dancing shadows on the cheeks of the sleeping
pair. The war waged outside as the two slept within, and some of
the forgotten yearns and hopes of those voices lost at sea so long
ago found their way into the bedroom through the unguarded window
and crept into the twins’ memories, their plea for life and help
and hope so desperate that they couldn’t help but disturb the
dreams of those whose thoughts they invaded. Arlen and Alice
drifted uncomfortably in their sleep, although neither knew why,
and they heard the whispers raging faintly to their very souls,
until at last the storm died down, the clouds drained of their
fury, and the stinging spits of rain softened to a slow drizzle. If
the twins had been awake, they would have sensed a perturbing chill
in the air – the scent of an unwelcome presence that had been and
gone, but had left some sign of itself behind, like an unpleasant
smell.

As it
was, both girls tossed and turned more than was usual that night.
The clouds drew together over the dark, brooding sea, now slowly
lapping the damp, black shore. And a long white hand, adorned by a
glowing red ring, slid back beneath the dark surface.

Chapter Five

The next
morning was heavy and overcast. A thick bank of cloud hung
menacingly over the village, and any faint glimmer of sun would
have had a hard time trying to break through its dense
barriers.

Aunt Maud
appeared just as brusque as ever as the girls descended, her back
to them, one hand tightly clutching the saltcellar as she sprayed
the fine, white contents over crisp, fresh tentacles. Alice felt
the contents of her stomach heave.

Yet when
she turned to hand the girls their breakfasts, she seemed changed.
Gentler, softer, somehow. She seemed genuinely interested as she
sat down conversationally at the table opposite the twins,
coffeepot in hand – a most un-Aunt Maudlike gesture in itself – and
enquired as to what they were going to do today. Arlen half
wondered if it really was her aunt and, with a quick gulp of
coffee, a “most likely into the village”, and a shove for her
sister, she had Alice out of the door and down the path in the
matter of a few minutes. But instead of following the Beach Road
towards the small hub of houses and village shops, Arlen turned off
onto a small path that led past the Alchemist’s Block towards the
beach.


Are you crazy?” Alice questioned, her heart beating rapidly.
It was all too weird.


Oh, we’re not going
there
,” Arlen explained quickly.
“We’re going to the grotto. It’s right down on the other side of
the beach.” She led the way down a narrow sandy path, over a tiny
hump of land that Alice hadn’t even noticed, and through a small
forest of flowering gorse. “This is
my
spot,” Arlen told her half shyly,
as they walked. “I’ve always come out here, just to be by myself.
No one else knows of it. I couldn’t stand it if they did.” She half
laughed.


Then – why are you showing me?” Alice asked softly.


I don’t know,” Arlen confessed. “Somehow you just seem to be a
part of it all, I suppose.” She shrugged and stopped, and Alice
followed her gaze curiously.

They had
come to the edge of a small wall of cliff, which fell to the rocks
below in a steep, jagged drop. The path continued down the rocky
side, and as they descended the going grew much rougher. Alice
looked down once and decided not to do it again.


You’ve got to watch your step here,” Arlen warned, nimbly
leaping over a crevice, her feet steady through years of practice.
Alice wasn’t so sure, however, and several times required her
sister’s assistance. “One wrong move and you could end up down
there,” Arlen told her, panting. Alice shuddered, and looked away.
She could hear the restless waves beating endlessly against the
rocks below, and had no desire to join them. She moved closer to
Arlen, and was glad when they suddenly veered off the path that led
down, climbing over a jutting rock into a narrow space behind.
Surprised, she found herself standing in a deep, cleverly secreted
cut in the stone. “Come on,” Arlen said, grinning at her sister’s
astonishment, and led her through the craggy groove.

It was
like walking through a slanted maze. The cliff face was littered
with similar rude paths. Cracks and passages crossed and threaded
throughout the rock like a crazy crossword puzzle, menacing looking
holes and gaps leered from every direction, some open and widely
gaping, others hidden and covered by crawling moss or lichen, or
puddles of lank seaweed fronds. More than once she had been about
to place her foot on a seemingly safe spot, when the ground broke
from underneath her and fell, shattering into the waves and rocks
below. “Test every spot first,” Arlen cautioned her constantly, and
Alice followed her advice with a white face.

Strange
marine life jigged and danced in naturally made ponds and puddles
all around them, constantly watched by the carnivorous sea anemone,
waiting to make its kill. Even stranger were the weird rock
formations, which loomed around them like malformed, unfinished
statues. Alice had the awful feeling that they were watching her as
she passed, and was careful not to look at any of them too
closely.

Suddenly
Arlen stopped, right before what seemed to be a dead end of stone.
Alice rushed to keep up with her, sliding precariously on a smooth,
damp stretch of rock. A row of brightly coloured sea anemones
closed in a flash as her feet finally came to a halt, and she
sighed with relief, glancing up to see Arlen’s figure before her,
dark hair flying in the morning breeze, before she disappeared from
view. Her cry was caught by the wind, and she gulped her heartbeat
down as she slowly, cautiously, followed her sister’s footsteps in
the wet rock, watching them quickly swallowed by the creeping damp
that bled endlessly through the cracks and fissures in the stone.
She was starting to panic. Where could Arlen have gone? She hadn’t
seen her fall. It was just that one minute she was there, and the
next minute she wasn’t.

When the
hand gripped her shoulder she thought that her heart had stopped.
As she was pulled into a narrow crevice, she felt all warmth drain
from her body in an icy cold waterfall down her spine, and was just
coaxing her voice to return and allow her to scream when she
realised that it was only Arlen standing behind her, regarding her
with a concerned face.


Are you alright?” she asked.


Yes, fine,” Alice rolled her eyes, her breath returning in
large, heavy gasps. “Did you have to disappear like that? I nearly
died!”


I’m sorry,” Arlen said, surprised, “but I thought you were
right behind me.”


Oh, that’s alright,” Alice half laughed, wiping the sweat from
her brow. She knew Arlen hadn’t meant to frighten her, but she
almost felt that she’d rather have faced the beach.


Here, splash some water on your face,” Arlen motioned her
towards a pool of water in the middle of the cave. “Oh, it’s
alright,” she said quickly, noticing her twin’s startled look,
“it’s fresh. You can even drink from it. It’s pure.”

And
Alice, although apprehensive about the idea of drinking any sort of
water that wasn’t in a bottle, was too hot and thirsty to argue.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she cupped her hand and
dipped it in the clear pool. Arlen had been right. The water tasted
pure and good, and was cold and fresh to the touch. She drank and
drank until she had had her fill, and then suddenly seemed to
notice the interior of the grotto for the first time, stepping back
in wonder. “What is this place?”

The tiny
dark crevice they had slipped through to enter gave no warning of
the splendour that lay within. The room was massive, almost like a
theatre or a ballroom in a palace. Glistening stalagmites and
stalactites rose from the floor and hung from the roof in frozen
growth, sparkling like an arrangement of very large and unusual
diamond chandeliers, or marble statues. The deep crystal lake
dominated most of the floor. Its rocky bottom was visible beneath
the surface, and it appeared that a succession of shallow steps had
been cut into the stone, leading down into the water. Small pools
of liquid rested on natural ledges all around them, and glowing
coral nestled in small curves and depressions in the sandy rock. A
little stream flowed from one corner, disappearing into the wall
and reappearing from an opening further on, creating a bubbling,
frothing waterfall, which tumbled into the pool below. Tiny,
delicate, brightly patterned fish swam in some of the small pools,
and an odd shaft in the roof, diamond shaped, let in the light, set
at such an odd twist that it almost seemed to create a flow of
sunlight where there wasn’t any, resulting in the soft, dancing
glow of a rainbow streaming around the room, winking and sparkling
like gold dust in the air. The scene was amazing. Alice gasped in
delight.


It’s my grotto,” Arlen said again, proudly. “I found it here
when I was six, and I’ve been coming ever since. It’s my own secret
room. I’ve even slept here some nights.” She paused suddenly, and
the watery music of the waterfall bubbled in the silence. “I’ve
always felt at home here. It seemed to be waiting for me when I
first found it. I remember, I was only six, and although I was used
to being on the beach by myself, I’d never been this far
round.


And I sort of got lost, even though it wasn’t that far from
the castle, and I slipped down the cliff side and twisted my ankle.
I remember sitting there in a puddle, my face screwed up in pain,
and I suddenly saw a light behind a rock. It seemed to be beckoning
me in. And I found this place.” She gazed round her and sighed with
satisfaction. “I’ve always believed something guided me here.” She
smiled, delighted with Alice’s wonder over the natural mansion.
“And now it belongs to both of us.”


Really?”


Of course,” Arlen laughed. “You’re my sister, aren’t you?” She
leapt up and grasped a shell that lay on a seat-shaped stone by the
miniature waterfall. “I hereby grant you half of everything in this
palace,” she declared, her voice almost singing in the shimmering
halls of the room. “All its wonders and belongings – from now to
forevermore,” and she gently dubbed her sister’s head and shoulders
with its spiralled point.

BOOK: The Wind of Southmore
13.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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