The Memory of Snow (17 page)

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Authors: Kirsty Ferry

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Collections & Anthologies

BOOK: The Memory of Snow
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2010

 

Ryan was sitting hunched up on a dry part of the grass,
staring all about him. His face was white and drawn and Liv could see that he
was still trembling. She hunkered down next to him and touched his knee. Ryan
flinched.

‘It’s OK, Ryan, it’s OK. It’s only me,’ she said gently.
‘You’re safe now. He’s gone.’

‘What happened?’ asked Ryan. His voice was shaky. ‘It’s all
fuzzy in my head. One minute I’m sitting next to you and the next...’ He looked
at her and gave a humourless, lopsided smile. ‘It must have been one hell of a
kiss,’ he said, his voice strange and flat. ‘Probably serves me right. Probably
shouldn’t have tried. I...’

The rest of his sentence was smothered. Liv leaned over and
kissed him hard on the lips. Ryan gave a little gurgle of shock, then found
himself responding. He was hesitant at first; then as he found his confidence,
he kissed her with a mixture of eagerness and desperation. He reached his arms
up and locked them behind Liv’s neck. She wrapped her arms around his waist and
they stayed entwined, lost in each other, as the atmosphere around them became
still again.

‘Wow,’ said Ryan, gazing at Liv. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t come up
with anything clever to say. Just...wow.’

Liv laughed, a little self-consciously.

‘Yeah. I know what you mean,’ she said. ‘Wow. Who would have
thought it?’

‘But you haven’t explained what happened,’ said Ryan.
‘Before. When all that fuzzy stuff was going on. I’m sorry, Liv. But I really
can’t remember any of it.’

‘You really can’t can you?’ she said quietly, watching him.
‘Nothing. There’s nothing there.’

‘Not a thing. Liv, this place is weird. I know I said that
earlier, but I’ve decided I really don’t like it. There’s something here... I
don’t even know if it wants us to be here.’ He looked around again, concerned
that whatever ‘it’ was might still be lurking in the undergrowth. Liv sat back
and picked idly at the plants around her. She snapped off a flower and turned
it over in her hands, looking at the tiny, daisy-shaped flowers.

‘Yarrow,’ she said. ‘The devil’s nettle. Do you know
something, Ryan? There’s so much we don’t understand in this life. I wonder if
it all sorts itself out...afterwards. You know?’

‘What? Like when we’re dead?’ said Ryan, looking askance at
her. He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. You’re starting to freak me out a bit, I
have to say. Again. You’re freaking me out: again.’

Liv looked at him and half-smiled.

‘I’m not going into detail with you,’ she said. ‘But you do
that to me as well, you know. You’ve freaked me out before now.’ Ryan pulled
his knees up to his chest and dropped his head onto them. He closed his eyes.

‘Come on. Something weird happened, didn’t it? I didn’t just
lose half an hour did I?’ Liv could see his shoulders tensing up, waiting for
her to confirm it. She stroked his back and felt a little shiver run down his
spine through her fingers. She smiled to herself. Yes. Who would have thought
it?

‘Yes. Something weird did happen, Ryan,’ she said. She
thought for a moment. Maybe one day she would tell him. But would he really,
truly appreciate being told he’d been possessed by a mad seventeenth century
rapist, hell-bent on revenge? Or that she’d saved this sacred place and the
spirits that lingered here, by joining hands with two ghosts - two Guardians of
this wild, beautiful landscape? Or maybe there were three Guardians now? This
time she shivered. She was inextricably linked to this place; that was for
sure. ‘And it’s going to get even weirder,’ she said, looking at him. The edge
of his hair curled gently against his collar and she moved her fingers up to
stroke it. It was smooth and springy beneath her touch.

‘How? How can it get weirder?’ asked Ryan, looking up at her.
His eyebrows knitted together. ‘Come on. I’m not stupid. This whole place has
been weird. All day. You stabbed me with that pen. And you went crazy. And we
both saw...weird things. And now I’ve got a fuzzy head and I can’t remember
anything since we sort of didn’t kiss.’

‘Can you not remember properly kissing just now?’ teased Liv.

‘You’re not answering the question,’ argued Ryan. ‘Of course
I can remember that one. It’s just before that. It’s fuzzy.’

Liv half smiled.

‘Yeah, well. It’s got to stay fuzzy. I don’t know what
happened myself.’

‘Liar,’ said Ryan.

‘Yup,’ said Liv. ‘But you wouldn’t believe me anyway.’

‘Try me.’

‘No.’

Liv raised her eyes and scanned the area for Meggie. She half
expected her to be standing on the edge of the field, or hovering by the
temple. Or even watching them from Carrawburgh. But she wasn’t there. She’d
gone. And so had Aemelia: and Marcus. All gone.

Liv sighed. She couldn’t even feel them around her anymore.
They’d come back though. They were bound to the place. As she was. She sat up,
stretching her arms out behind her to lean back on her hands. Under one of
them, she felt a hard, sharp object. Her stomach flipped; she could tell by the
shape of it that it was the knife. She cast a glance at Ryan. He had his head
on his knees again. Carefully, she eased the knife into her hand and curled it
inside her fist. They were quite near to Coventina’s Well. Liv silently judged
the distance to it from where she sat; not far. She flicked her wrist and let
go of the knife, sending it somersaulting towards the Well. There was a tiny
splash and the knife sank into the filthy water, to be swallowed up by the mud
at the bottom of the spring. Liv let out her breath; she hadn’t even realised
she was holding it. Ryan turned to her, the tiny splash startling him out of
his reverie.

‘You won’t tell me, will you?’ he said.

‘Damn right,’ she replied.

‘Well. In that case, would you kiss me again?’ Then there it
was; that irresistible twinkle was back in his eye.  ‘Because I don’t
actually believe you did that either.’ Liv grinned at him, her heart suddenly
lighter.

‘Damn right I’ll kiss you again,’ she said. ‘I’ll let you
believe that one.’      

 

The End

 

 

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