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  Turner nodded. He decided if he hung around he would at least stop acting like a scared little boy. If only for the fact he didn’t want Ember calling him ‘chicken-shit’ again.

  ‘Yeah. OK. Not all bad.’ He pointed to the little building. ‘Show me the well, spirit lady.’

  The well’s structure was open on one side, with columns on each corner holding up a little pyramid of a roof. A lot of the old stone was covered in moss and lichen. ‘I thought it was a shrine.’

  ‘You’re right really. This is a well. A sacred well. There’s thousands of these scattered around Britain. Not all in good condition like this though. In their most basic form they are just springs of fresh water rising from the ground. Humans have always valued the springs of course, but over time a lot of these springs took on more spiritual, or religious associations. Probably because people could feel their power, you know, unconsciously. A lot of the springs were made into stone wells, some even covered like this. This is the Wicker Well.’

  ‘Like a wicker basket?’

  Celeste’s gave him a strange smile. ‘If you like. Come. This way.’ She entered the small stone building.

  Inside it was dim and damp. In the middle of the structure was a square, stone pool of dark water. A small channel carried the overflow out the other side of the building where Turner could hear the sound of trickling water. It was strangely warm in the small room, and the air was thick with the damp smell of moss and fresh water. Turner stood still in the semi-darkness. He could feel something. He wasn’t nervous but he felt the hairs on his arms rise. It was as if there was electricity in the air.

  ‘I feel something.’

  ‘You should. Imagine all the wells, the springs, are joined like a huge metaphysical net across the land. Across the world really. Like arteries. We harness those connections and use them as a way of travelling across distances. Around the world really.’

  ‘Wait. What? You dive into the well and swim under the ground?’

  Celeste looked at him quizzically. ‘Oh boy, would that be dumb. No, we stand next to the well and tune into the power of the water spreading across the land, we think of the place we need to go, then zip, we’re there.’

  ‘Magic.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Turner. Magic is pulling a rabbit out of a hat. This is listening, connecting and using the living Earth. And given who we are it’s really just the Earth using the Earth. In this case we’re just blood cells using the arteries. Magic. I spit on your magic.’

  Turner held up his hands. ‘OK. I get it. You girls are supernatural beings who aren’t witches, and use elemental powers which aren’t magic.’

  ‘Yes, exactly. And don’t forget it.’

  ‘I won’t. It’s all … hey do you feel that?’ The air in the well seemed to coalesce around Turner’s neck. He felt as if a train was approaching down a tunnel, or a large wave was about to break.

  ‘Let’s get out. Move,’ said Celeste.

  ‘Why? What’s hap …’ but the rest of his sentence was cut short as Celeste grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the well.

  Once outside in the sunlight again, Celeste said, ‘Usually we have a bit of warning …’ She looked at Turner, her eyes wide, ‘Someone’s coming.’

  *

  From where Turner stood he could see into the well. Out of nowhere, without any great flash of light or swirling purple mist, two women appeared by the central pool of water.

  Turner grinned widely. Transporter beams! In spite of himself he was becoming more and more intrigued with this whole supernatural setup. As long as there weren’t any more bloody monsters, he was almost willing to see where this Ring thing went.

  The women both took a deep breath and looked around. Dressed in long gowns and golden hooded cloaks they had a medieval air about them. When they turned Turner could see one looked older than the other, but both were striking. Rich red hair flowed from beneath the younger woman’s hood, while a thin headband of gold bound the older woman’s long braided silver hair. Turner felt she looked almost regal.

  ‘Mother Torhild! Aunt Sigrid!’ said Celeste.

  ‘Celeste’, said the younger woman softly to the elder.

  The older woman stepped forward to embrace Celeste. ‘Aye, of course. Celeste. Spirit of the Wickerwell Vordene.’ Turner found the woman’s Scottish accent almost musical. The woman stepped back. ‘We heard, felt really of course, about poor little Lani. How is she? I’ve come to lend a hand if I can. The Healing you know.’

  ‘Oh, Mother Torhild, that’s so good of you’, said Celeste.

  Mother Torhild looked around. ‘Yes, it’s nice to—.’ Her gaze settled on Turner and the colour drained from her face. ‘Sigrid,’ she said to the younger woman.

  Sigrid lowered her hood, her gaze on Turner. ‘I feel it Mother Torhild. It’s … Is he?’

  ‘A human Ring,’ finished Mother Torhild.

  Turner shifted from one foot to the other, aware of the three sets of eyes on him.

  ‘Oh my stars, oh my stars.’ The old woman grasped the arm of Sigrid for support, as if she was about to collapse. ‘Now? Oh dear. How?’

  Turner glanced at Celeste who looked just as puzzled as he felt.

  ‘Mother Torhild!’ ‘Aunt Sigrid!’ came voices from behind them. The other girls strode down the stone steps.

  ‘I told you I felt her,’ said Brooke to Skye. ‘I said …’ but she stopped short when she saw the state of Mother Torhild, and the worried looks on the other faces.

  Celeste stepped to the other side of Mother Torhild and took her arm. ‘Let’s get you up to the house, Mother. A nice cup of tea will help I’m sure.’

  Mother Torhild looked at Celeste; she was shaking and there were tears in her eyes. ‘Tea? Yes I suppose so. And after tea we can discuss the imminent end of the …’

  ‘Sorry, Mother,’ said Sigrid, ‘I didn’t catch the last thing you said.’

  Mother Torhild looked around at the others, before her gaze rested squarely on Turner. A solitary tear ran down her cheek. ‘The world dear. I said … the imminent end of the world.’

  *

  Ember had no idea what was going on with Mother Torhild but Celeste seemed to be trying to calm her down. She had ushered Aunt Sigrid and Mother Torhild into the Great Hall but asked everyone else, except Chloe, to stay out.

  Celeste spoke to the others in the hall. ‘It’s just all together we make quite a crowd. I don’t know what’s got into Mother Torhild but I don’t want to freak her out any more than she is already. I’ll get to the bottom of what’s going on and get back to you…’

  ‘Brooke and I will go and check on Aunt Lani,’ said Skye.

  Celeste smiled gratefully. ‘That would be great.’

  ‘What about us?’ said Ember.

  ‘Maybe Ember should take Turner home … for some fresh clothes, or whatever. Get him away from Mother Torhild?’ asked Brooke.

  Celeste nodded. ‘Not a bad idea really. Give us an hour or two here, to chat with Mother Torhild and Aunt Sigrid.’

  ‘OK,’ said Ember. ‘We can do that can’t we, Turner? Want to invite me back to your house for coffee?’

  Ember was pleased when a slight blush tinged his cheeks.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  TURNER FOLLOWED EMBER out the front door. A two-car garage sat to the right of the main house. The sliding doors rose to reveal another Land Rover, older than the one in front of the house, and a low, sleek, modern car.

  ‘We’ll take the Jag,’ said Ember. ‘Celeste says the Jag shouldn’t be used unless it’s a special occasion. What’s more special than taking our very own Ring for a drive huh?’

  ‘Wow. This is a Jag? It’s very James Bond.’ The car was a sleek, silver four door.

  ‘A Jaguar XF to be exact. Aunt Lani bought it for us when we became the Wickerwell Vordene. See the emblem?’ A growling large cat’s head adorned a circular silver badge. Ember’s smile was lopsided. ‘I always hoped our Ring would look like that. I was hoping for a spirit
Jaguar. How cool would that be?’

  ‘Very.’ Turner tapped a front tyre of the car with his foot. ‘Sorry to let you down.’

  Ember’s eyes searched Turner’s face. ‘You haven’t. I don’t feel let down at all.’ She looked as if she was about to say something else, but changed her mind. ‘Let’s get going huh?’

  Within a minute they were out on the main road to Wilby. Turner was impressed with the inside of the car as well, with its wood trim on the dashboard and centre console, and its lush leather seats. Turner wiggled his shoulders comfortably. It certainly shamed his Toyota Yaris.

  ‘Oops, forgot to put on my fell. It’s a rule we have to stick to.’

  ‘Hang on,’ said Turner. ‘You don’t have to be the old lady, do you? I’d rather not be seen driving around town with her.’

  ‘Of course not. I’m not in the Land Rover so this time I can be whatever you want.’ She turned and said in a mock suggestive voice, ‘Who would you like me to be, Turner?’

  ‘Well, you of course …’ Turner loved the grin these words put on Ember’s face. ‘But if it can’t be you, how about another young woman?’

  ‘Hmm. How’s this?’

  Turner could sense she had put it on and blinked. She looked like a short-haired business woman, with square-rimmed glasses, a tight woollen business dress and even a colourful thin scarf.

  ‘I’m upwardly mobile,’ said Ember.

  It certainly wasn’t what he was expecting. ‘Uh. I guess it will do.’ He was kind of glad he could now tune out her fell at will.

  ‘Hey, I’ve got a question.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Mother Torhild. Who is she? What was going on back there?’

  ‘I don’t really know what got into her. I guess Celeste will find out and fill us in when we get back. As to who she is … Well, I guess if the British Isles have a queen of the Vordene, she’s it. She’s actually the oldest surviving member of the High Vordene. Aunt Sigrid is one of the current High Vordene, and Mother Torhild is really her mother, or her aunt-mother. The High Vordene have a castle near Stenness in Orkney.’

  ‘Orkney?’

  ‘Sounds strange I guess. Why not London or Edinburgh? But if you think of Orkney as the head of the British Islands, it makes more sense. It’s an ancient and holy place. Anyway, the castle is where all the British Vordene girls are born. That’s where I was born, and all my sisters, of course. The High Vordene also preside over the important rituals. We were initiated by them almost five years ago. It was amazing.’ Ember looked across at Turner. ‘They also do the Binding.’

  ‘OK. What’s the Binding?’

  ‘It’s a ceremony that each Vordene go through after they find their Ring. And just like it says on the tin, it’s a binding ceremony, where the women of the Vordene and their spirit animal are joined and acknowledged. It’s done in Orkney, at the Standing Stones of Stenness. Heard of them?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Old. Older than the pyramids. Older even than Stonehenge. Sacred and powerful ground.’

  ‘And this is something you guys would want me to do? Bind? Sounds a bit like getting married.’

  ‘Yeah. I guess it does—when the spirit animal is actually a man.’

  Turner held up an imaginary wedding ring and slipped it onto his finger. ‘Do you take these five women?’

  Ember laughed. ‘Oh my God!’

  They were both silent for a minute. Turner looked out of the side window at the ploughed fields. He saw a dead tree in the middle of one field with a raven or crow sitting on its branch.

  He shook his head to clear it when Ember said, ‘So would you?’

  ‘Would I what?’

  ‘You know. Bind with us. Really become our Ring. Protect us. Fight with us.’

  Once again Turner lapsed into silence. The car was approaching the outskirts of Wilby.

  ‘Turner?’

  ‘I was just thinking. I don’t have any good coffee at my place. Want to grab a coffee and a bite to eat at that blue cafe on High Street?’

  He looked again out the side window. The dead tree and raven had passed. Could he really go through with the Binding? Should he stay with the girls? He didn’t know if he had it in him to live up to their expectations.

  Ember glanced at him and pursed her lips. ‘You didn’t answer my question.’

  Turner gave her a small smile. ‘Didn’t, did I?’

  *

  Turner and Ember sipped their coffee. They could hear sirens coming from across town.

  ‘I hope no one is hurt,’ said Ember.

  ‘That many sirens? Sounds like something big. Maybe a couple of houses on fire or something.’

  The sirens died away, and the usual hubbub of the town filled the void. Turner stared at Ember over his coffee. He was pleased she had suggested they sit at one of the outside tables. He loved the way the sunlight highlighted her hair, the usual dark red, now orange and radiant. He couldn’t believe he was actually sitting here with this mysterious and beautiful woman.

  He wondered what to say. He wanted to mention her hair, but instead said, ‘I like this part of the town, with its ancient little buildings. Like straight out of Shakespeare.’

  ‘I guess,’ said Ember. ‘I’m kind of used to it though. Lived here most of my life. But tell me about you, Turner. Where do you come from? What do you do?’

  Turner swallowed the piece of lemon tart he’d been chewing. ‘Me? Boring as a sack of rocks, me. I was adopted as a baby, grew up with my adopted mother and father in Harlow, north of London. Moved to London after college, and I’ve been writing code, programming games and things for the last few years.’

  ‘Oh? Any for the phone? I like word games.’

  ‘I made a game called Jumpy Lumpy Llama. It’s just a jumping game.’ Turner noticed Ember tapping away at her phone. ‘You don’t have to …’

  Ember smiled. ‘Too late.’ She held up her screen; it showed the download page for Jumpy Lumpy Llama. Ember looked at the phone again. ‘Looks like it has good ratings. It must be doing well, huh?’

  Turner shrugged. ‘People like silly things.’

  Ember glanced up from the screen, and said with a smirk, ‘They do, don’t they?’

  ‘Hey. Are you talking about me?’

  ‘Cough. Of course not.’

  Turner laughed. ‘You realise you just said the word cough?’

  ‘No I didn’t. Cough.’

  They were both silent for a moment, smiling at each other. Ember’s eyes twinkled.

  Ember held her cup to her lips, looked at him over the rim and said, ‘So, girlfriends?’

  Turner looked sideways. ‘One or two. Just finished a relationship a few months back. It’s the reason I’m here actually. Had to get away from everything. Although how I ended up in the midlands is beyond me.’

  ‘I don’t think you had a choice.’

  ‘The pull of the Vordene?’

  Ember ran her finger along the top of her cup. ‘Exactly.’

  ‘So, what about you? You girls seem quite … normal for supernatural beings. But surely you didn’t have a normal upbringing.’

  ‘We grew up with our three Aunts as our mothers. We were home schooled. Part of that was learning how the modern world worked, how it spoke and so on. Learning how to live in this day and age basically.’ Ember looked around her. ‘We try to fit in. Even if it means most people never see our true selves. News of five sisters living in a manor house would attract the wrong kind of attention: the Scathery kind. Our Aunts even encouraged us to watch TV. Without it, the five of us would probably speak like Aunt Lani—a bit old school ma’am-ish.’

  ‘Boyfriends? That would have been difficult—not being able to show your real selves or reveal your powers.’

  Ember looked down at her plate, her croissant untouched. ‘A few guys … but I’ve never had a long-term boyfriend. We can’t really do long-term relationships. Too many secrets to keep. So every once in a while, two or three of us would put on a f
ell and go out on the town for a big night out.’

  Turner twirled his coffee slowly. ‘Well that’s normal. Apart from the fell thing of course. Girls going out, meeting guys …’

  ‘Well, not Brooke. In case you didn’t know … she likes girls.’

  Turner laughed. ‘Hmm, there you go. I’m not very good at reading that sort of stuff. Although, I thought she had a bit of a problem with me.’

  ‘You’re not the only one. She and I, well, we’ve never got along really.’

  Turner looked across and up the street.

  Ember placed her empty cup down on the saucer, and looking at him with those intense eyes said, ‘You’re thinking you might not come back with me, aren’t you?’

  Turner’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You can read my mind?’

  ‘No. It’s like with my sisters, we can pick up feelings, even from far away. It helps to know when one of us is in trouble. I’m finding it’s pretty easy for me to sense what you’re feeling too. Your uncertainty.’ Her lips were fine lines.

  Turner was about to say something about loss of privacy, when he realised that as he looked at Ember, he was actually picking something up from her. And it wasn’t good.

  ‘Now I’m thinking about it, I can sense you too I think. You’re annoyed, angry. Yeah?’

  As soon as he had said these words though Ember’s internal demeanour changed to one of surprise. ‘You can read me too? Wow! You’re spooper powers are coming along nicely.’

  ‘Spooper?’

  ‘It’s something you said yesterday in the park. You also said you had powers up your trousers.’

  Turner could tell Ember was taking great delight in passing on this titbit of information.

  ‘I … ah … sorry. I was blotto. I don’t even remember saying …’

  Ember took pity on him. ‘That’s OK. It was kind of funny. So, seriously now. You’re going to pass up these powers—and really who knows what else you’re capable of—and the chance to live with my sisters and me for what? A small flat and some computer games?’

  When she put it like that … but he still wasn’t sure.

  Ember obviously was picking up his indecision again because she frowned and started to say something, just as Turner noticed his friend Derek walking towards them. Derek had his hands in his jacket pockets and his head down, so didn’t see Turner at first.