Red Solstice (Alfheim Book 1) (2 page)

As it happens they seem to know which saves my breathe at least. 

“We saw him follow you”, she says.

I let out a sigh of gratitude for the nosiness of the older generation.  “Who is it”, I ask.

Truthy, her eyes alight with excitement, blurts out “That Red “.

They look at me expectantly as if I should know why I have attracted his attention, or rather the girls do but witchy has the look of one that knows something and is keeping quiet.  I am completely puzzled by why he, of all people, would be following me, after all it is not as if he has shown any interest in me before, but maybe he is an opportunist  and it isn't me he is after but any silly girl that takes a walk at night in a lonely place.  That does not fit comfortably as I am used to doing as I please on my own turf, and the thought of people leaping out at me from the shadows is frightening to say the least.

We are making our way back when we actually see  Red.  For some weird  reason he has stripped to the waist in the door way of one of the blocks and he has a strange faraway look to him like a picture I once saw of an eagle eyeing its prey.  His arms are accentuating this by being slightly spread, almost wing like.  He is slim and I can see he has a design tattooed on his chest which is hard to make out in the failing light.  We have to get passed him and  the witch tried to drags us over the slipway at a trot but he reaches out to make a grab with his right hand whilst scooping his clothes up in his left, so he is low to the ground and able to make contact with my arm, as he straightens up.  I feel the contact on my arm like a sudden flash of heat but then the others grab my other arm and suddenly it is like being between ice and fire as I am pulled away by them  and we continue in a higgledy piggledy fashion running out into alleyways and around buildings.  There is no sound of pursuit.   Dodging around the next block and somehow having lost him, we slow our pace.  It is only then that I acknowledge the fact that I, for some unfathomable reason have his jacket in my hand.  I repeat this to myself a few times before I mention the fact to the others, “ But I have the jacket,  his jacket”, finally surfaces.

He had reached for me, or rather had he reached for my wrist or perhaps the bracelet that hung there.  I felt the icy sensation along my spine again and shuddered.  I suddenly do not feel so good.

The bracelet is silver, triple links worked like one of those endless Celtic loops in an interlocked series, not large and probably not worth much.  I have had offers from the traders from time to time but it has memories for me of my mother and was the one thing that she gave to me that day she took off into the unknown and never returned.  There was another similar one for Benjamin but she seemed certain that John did need such a gift, so all he got was access to the family banking accounts.   I say unknown as we really don't know where she set off to.  Just my father had been missing for a month and she grew more and more restless before demanding John kept us safe in her absence.  The only outstanding point my bracelet has is the large green stone set half way round the circle.  It is much lighter than it looks which surprises people that have held it and it is a sort of oval shape.  I did think that is might be a secret container at one point but no amount of poking and prodding have ever managed to open it and there are no apparent seams to justify my flight of fantasy.  I was almost ten back then but it was a perfect fit.  The really odd thing is and my encounter with Red has brought this forward as a thought worth interacting with, it still fits perfectly.  I may not be a large girl but that damn bracelet should have been outgrown years back.

I looked at the jacket, it felt alien, too masculine somehow and then I brought the leather up to my nose and sniffed deeply.  The leather had a  strange scent almost honey but mixed with something exotic that I cannot  put a finger on.  I feel suddenly hot again, like when mum would catch me out eating her fresh baked biscuits, but although I know my face is flushed there is a strangely warm sensation in the pit of my stomach which feels like a betrayal.  My body is telling me he is hot but my mind chooses  to reject the information.  I repeat under my breath “not my type, not my type, not my type” using it like a mantra, my body running first hot then cold like I am running a fever.  The witch eyes me speculatively.  “It's a trap of sorts”, she says, her voice deep and throaty on the night air brings my focus back.

“I ain't gonna become some creepy guys sex slave”, I tell myself.  Trouble is part of me is not listening.  I've worked the club house too long to get goofy over some hotty but ....

The witch is talking again mostly to her daughter/sidekick,  I should ask but maybe it would be better if I asked Truthy instead.  I start to giggle and try and disguise it as a fit of hiccups.  I feel drunk, or something like it, and the world is swimming about before my eyes.  She turns back to me and says I had better stay at hers for the night and although I would prefer my own space that chill hits me again and I agree it would feel a whole lot safer.

Fading into Thursday

As we drew level with the Docks I went as to leave the jacket on the veranda and witchy shakes her head and says, ” I would like to look at that a little closer if you don't mind, but somewhere that I feel we will not be interrupted”.

I nod my head as if I understood what she was on about.  Tonight is definitely one for the diary if ever I decided to keep one.

We pass through the square and off in the opposite direction to the Street.  Abalone Road has a network of smaller roads off of it and we take a first left and then a right before turning into Meadow Lane.   Her house is about two thirds down this lane and looks more  normal than I had expected.  We pass through a sturdy  fresh painted gate and up some steps to a porch area.  The windows have very clean floral curtains.   It is so normal it makes me feel uneasy in a way like I am suddenly under dressed and too clumsy to be entering this neat little house.  I think of home and the faded curtains.  It must have been six months since we washed the windows and I cannot remember John ever painting the front gate.  Guess I have not been much help to him either, although I do try with the cooking and the kitchen is as neat as a pin.  Well, normally it is, if they have not been having a boys night in.

An open fireplace holds the remains of a log fire which soon cheers up under the weight of another two logs.  I am suddenly aware how cold I have been feeling, mostly due to that rain, now long gone. Truthy sighs and flops into an overstuffed armchair.  I conscientiously take off my cape, the bells in my plait tinkling as I shake my head to clear it.  I look at her expectantly and she grins back like a huge puppy.  “Okay”, I say, “What is going on and are you going to introduce your friends?”

She laughs, “Oops”, she says, “Please meet Mrs Hilda Claybourne and her niece , Aylsa”.

Hilda shakes her head as if she is used to dealing with youngsters and her niece shyly puts out her hand to me, which  I shake.  “I do like your group,” she says in a voice that tells me she would like an invitation to meet my brother on a more one to one basis.  I smile and say, “and I am  Lily, in case you had not figured that out already”.

“Yes,” says Hilda half way out of the living room and possibly heading for the kitchen.  A brief pause and she adds “ I know your mother,”    I am hopeful of a warm drink after the exertions of the last hour or so but then it dawns on me that she said know and not knew.  I shake my head slightly puzzled but well, it is late and maybe I have heard that wrong.  John always said that I hear what I want to and not what is being said so maybe this is one of those times after all the weirdness of this evening.

I place the jacket on a side table near the front door and hang my cloak on a hall stand nearby.  Hilda is returning from the kitchen area with a tray of what looks  like glasses of  warm chocolate, which luckily I can drink as I can only managed milk that has been heated,  and a small plate of cookies.  My stomach growls in thanks for this addition.

“Don't leave it there,”she says indicating the jacket “bring it back into the living room”. 

I gather it back up and take it in with me.  There is a tired looking sofa where Aylsa

is now sitting and I join her, placing the jacket in front of me on the floor.  A grey striped cat appears from behind the sofa and sniffs at the jacket before hissing and running from the room.  I take it that the scent is not to his satisfaction.  I grab a cookie off the tray which Hilda has placed on a coffee table and nibble appreciatively.

Hilda stares at the jacket for what seems like ages and I almost expect it to get up and dance around the room or something else amazing from the intensity with which she is looking at it.  Then she reaches down to a side pocket and gingerly opens this using a spoon from the tray.  Nothing rushes out and I do not hear the snap of a mouse trap, to be honest this all seems a bit hyped and silly.  I try not to smirk as she declares that pocket to be empty.  Then she repeats the whole thing on the other side but here she spoons out a scrap of card or paper and written on this is the word Solstice.  This obviously has meaning to her and she seems to relax more.  Odd but until she let go I had not noticed how tense I was.  Still we have a jacket with no identification belonging to its owner so Red remained Red and the mystery remains just that.  Aylsa got up and pulled the curtains across the window, pausing a moment to check on the outside view of the road.  She seemed satisfied that no one was lurking out there and then she went out of the room and I heard the bolt drawn on the front door.  I wondered if they thought we stood in danger of Red making an appearance here, but he did not seem to have been following us along the main road so how would he know where they lived.  Or maybe he did know and they were in some way connected.  Then she came back into the room and offered to show us to their spare bedroom.  I am pleased to agree with this as I am now feeling extremely tired.  There is no class on tomorrow morning but both Truthy and I are due into one in the afternoon.  A nice long sleep certainly looks good at the moment.  Hilda looks up as we leave the room and says that she will tell us a bit more about tonight’s events in the morning. 

I wake up around six am with sunlight streaming in from any angle that can make it  past the curtains.  This is an odd time of year, some parts of it cold and others bidding to be sweltering.  Truthy is still gently snoring.  My throat is very dry and I feel odd like I have had too many beers the night before.  Now I come to think of it I was rather inclined to giggle at things last night.  I pull my jeans on and head for the bathroom where I splash cold water on my face.  This helps to an extent but I really need some water to drink as well so I head down to the kitchen.  Hilda is already down there, although she looks as if she has not slept yet.  She gestures to a coffee pot in the corner and I gratefully pour myself some.  There is a large wooden table with six chairs set against one wall and I slide one out and sit down.

“Well,” she says, looking me full in the face so I can see the dark smudges under her eyes and the beginning of crows feet.  “I suppose you will want to know what is going on with that young man”. 

“It would help”, I mutter although I am not certain that I want to know anything about  him apart from maybe he has left the planet.

She has that look that older people get when they are trying to work out how to say something and they are not certain if you are old enough to understand it.  I wonder if I should tell her about my sex life and put her mind at rest but hold myself back after all she has put herself out for me which is more than most would have done.

“I do not know how much you learned from your mother”, she continues, “and this is making things a bit difficult”.  I nod as if I understand whilst still turning the words over in my head in case I can make some sense of them. 

“The one that you call Red is not exactly like other people” 

I eye her quizzically.  “In what way?” I query  Part of me is going to laugh because this is all so cloak and dagger meets science fiction.  I think of that diagram on his chest and ponder the possibility that he is some cross breed demon android.

She sighs,”He comes from a different reality”, she says.

So okay he may be a cross bred demon android but  “why was he after me”, I interject.

“I am not certain if it is you he seeks or something in your possession”

I hold out my arm to show the bracelet around my wrist.  “Could it be this”

She reaches across and runs her  fingers lightly over the stone which glows as she touches it.  “Ah yes”, she said, “This would definitely draw him to you.

So great I am now a magnet for cross bred demon androids.  “So if I give him the bracelet he will just go away”, I ask hopefully.

“I think that he was drawn by the bracelet but now he has identified you, he will want to take you with him”, she replied.  “However I cannot swear to that but it feels right, or rather it fits, particularly with Solstice drawing closer”.