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indriSUMMARY: Giles and Ethan, the electric Kool-Aid funky Satan groove year, in the early seventies. Rated M. Spoilers to Band Candy. Acknowledgements and disclaimers.
46.
Evelyn led them through the cars, tents, caravans and doused campfires. They crossed the empty edge of the field, heading towards a line of trees: the wood of Salisbury Plain. Ripper had seen people hunting there for firewood earlier.
Ripper had no idea where they were going, or why. Given Evelyn's alleged preference for sex magic, he wondered if they were being taken to an orgy. What would he do if they were?
The canopy obscured the moon, and after the first few yards, he could no longer see the stagelights. He couldn't see anything at all, in fact.
Evelyn recited a chant he knew, and a stretch of light sprang up around them, no more than a few yards wide. She moved on. They stepped over tree roots and through spiderwebs. The air smelt damp and green.
They walked for a long time. Surely the wood couldn't be that large? It was hard to tell if they were headed in the same direction, always, because of the darkness and the constant need to turn this way and that around the yews and oaks. He could still hear the festival music, very faintly, below the sound of the wind in the leaves and, just possibly, the waters of a nearby stream.
Ripper hadn't looked at his watch before they left. He didn't know how long they'd been walking. He glanced at it now and saw that dawn was not too far off. How were they going to get back to the Henge in time for sunrise?
At first he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but as they got closer, he became more certain that he saw pinpricks of light ahead.
Evelyn abruptly cancelled her spell. She turned to face them, becoming a silhouette in front of the lights.
"Don't embarrass me, OK? Do as you're asked, chant when you're asked to chant, don't say anything else otherwise. And for God's sake, don't try and change or distort the spell in any way. This is dangerous. If we get this wrong, not only will I never invite you to any other event, but we'll probably be dead. Ethan? This is absolutely not the time for you to start playing around."
"OK," said Ethan, a bodiless voice a couple of yards to Ripper's left.
"And you, Ripper," she said. "I don't know you, so if you do anything untoward, I'll just flatten you. Completely. OK?"
"OK," Ripper said.
"Be good boys," said Evelyn.
Ripper's eyes adapted just enough that he didn't trip too much on the final couple of minutes of walk. They reached a clearing where many white sheets had been laid out on the ground. These were covered in a complicated series of pentagrams and circles at least ten yards wide. The pattern was laid out with candles, chunks of volcanic rock, and small animal skulls. Ripper had never seen anything like it.
There were maybe fifty people there, of varying ages and modes of dress. Ripper tried to spot the three wizards who had killed the vampires earlier, but couldn't see them.
There was a bald man, fortyish maybe, built like a wrestler and wearing a robe. "It's time now," he boomed. "Form the circle."
Evelyn sat down cross-legged, just outside the painted pattern. She motioned for them to sit down. Then she produced a small knife.
"Make a small cut in the centre of both your palms."
"What?" said Ripper.
"Make a--"
"I, I heard, yes, ah--"
"Or you can leave," said Evelyn, smiling. She sliced into her left palm with a grimace. "The blood has to mingle all the way around the circle."
She passed the knife to Ethan. "Can you do my other hand? I'm very right-handed."
Ethan did so. The knife looked very sharp. Then he cut into his own hands, with only a flicker of hesitation. He wiped the knife on his trouserleg before passing it to Ripper.
Ripper didn't feel that he had fully informed consent. "What is the spell exactly?"
"Rupert..." said Ethan.
"Flatten you completely," said Evelyn. "Are you in or out? We're summoning a presence."
"A demon?"
"A genius loci. We're summoning the spirit of Salisbury Plain."
Ripper cut into his hands, with rather more difficulty for the second one. It hurt quite a bit. He found a clean handkerchief to wipe the blade with before passing it back.
"At least I'm not stoned this time," said Ethan.
The circle was almost formed. A few people were hurrying to their places. Ripper sat between Evelyn and Ethan, who held his hands palm pressed against palm, sticky and wet and warm in the cool pre-dawn air.
The wrestler-wizard had yet to sit down. He paced around the circle with a torch, checking that every pair of hands was held in the proper grip. Then he went back to his place in the circle and took out a large curved knife to cut his own. He started to recite something in a language that Ripper not only didn't know, but didn't recognise. That was surprising.
He glanced over at Evelyn. She looked nervous. Ripper suddenly felt very scared. He could feel Ethan's blood -- or was it his own? -- dripping down his wrist.
The head wizard picked up a wide, flat bowl of some metallic-smelling substance and flung its contents into the centre of the circle. It was a dark liquid that splashed widely, hitting Ripper's face and clothes. He felt Evelyn grip his hand even tighter.
The wizard finally sat down and reached out to those on either side. Perhaps it was Ripper's imagination, but he thought he felt something like an electrical jolt run through him as the circle closed.
The main part of the spell began then. This part was familar: a call-and-response between the leading wizard and the rest of the circle. The words were now in cod-Latin, clearly of no antiquity, although possibly translated from an older language, or modified from a related loci spell of---
Bloody hell.
47.
It was well past sunrise but Ethan couldn't remember having seen the dawn. In truth, he was having trouble remembering all sorts of things, such as his name. He thought he might be lying on his back. He kept having to blink; everything looked like a series of still photographs. None of it really seemed to connect.
Evelyn: "You two look trashed."
Tree branches, dark cloud.
Evelyn, looking very pale.
A mouse skull sitting on blood-brown splashed paper.
Rupert: "Geologically old."
Fat drops of rain falling on his upturned face.
Two men walking past, carrying a dead goat.
Ethan (himself): "Mox ubi ridendas inclusit pagina partes, vera redit facies, assimulata perit."
A woman, picking up pumice.
Scabs in the centre of both his hands.
Rupert, lying on his back with his knees bent, looking muddy and yet somehow very attractive. He should try to crawl towards him.
"It's starting to rain. I'm walking back."
Ethan felt the return of cause and effect: it slammed him in the back of the head. He stood up and tottered over to Rupert.
"Rupert," he said, shaking him. "Rupert. Evelyn's leaving. We should go." Rupert looked up at him. He was wearing his glasses. "We have to go."
"Yes, right," said Rupert. "So we should."
The walk back seemed much quicker than the walk they'd had last night. They mostly walked in silence, although Evelyn asked him, "What did you say back there?"
"What did I say back there?" asked Ethan, struggling to recall.
"The farce ends, the smiles come off, revealing the true face below," said Rupert.
"All right then," said Evelyn.
The rain suddenly became very heavy and they sheltered under an oak.
"It's ten o'clock," said Rupert. "Why is it ten o'clock already?"
The rain died down, then stopped altogether. They tromped through the mud. Evelyn paused at the edge of the wood. "Well, don't thank me or anything."
"Thank you," said Ethan.
"Thank you," said Rupert.
"I'm going that way now," she said, pointing, "back to my tent. You guys should go back to your friends."
"OK," said Rupert.
"OK," said Ethan.
"You two take care," she said.
Ethan and Rupert walked towards Stonehenge and towards the stage. Yet another band was playing now, but the crowds of last night were starting to disperse. There was a lot of frustrated traffic, trying to find its way out past clumps of standing and sitting people.
"You called me Rupert back there," said Rupert.
"I looked at your driver's license," said Ethan. "Why wouldn't I want to know your name?"
The others weren't back where they'd left them and Randall was, surprisingly, not immediately visible. Ethan thought they should go and ask the Wallys if they'd seen him.
His hunch was good, and they found Diedre and Randall curled up together in a corner of a Wally tent.
"The sunrise was awesome," said Randall. "Clear sky just long enough, the dawn light reflected on the gathering cloud and ancient stone... Mind-blowing."
"Mmm," said Ethan.
Rupert polished his glasses, looked surprised to be holding them, then put them in his jacket pocket.
"When do you want me to drive you back?" Rupert asked.
"We're not going yet," said Diedre. "We're staying on."
"The Wallys have kindly offered us a place to stay for a few days. We've got more people we want to catch up on."
"How will you get home?" asked Ethan.
"Hitch," said Diedre.
"And where's Stan?"
"He made a new friend," said Diedre, "and has gone back to her tent."
"Teepee," said Randall. "She said teepee."
"Well, how long is he expecting us to wait for him?" Ethan asked.
Diedre shrugged.
"We could kip here for an hour or two before the drive back, see if he turns up," Ethan suggested to Rupert.
There was just enough room in the tent for the four of them to lie down. Ethan found he couldn't sleep, his mind still struggling to cope with the aftermath of the spell. The khaki ceiling of the tent was too close and he was uncomfortably aware that the rough ground underneath him was a continuous part of Salisbury Plain. When he glanced over, Rupert had his eyes closed but his breathing was in his waking-tempo, not his sleeping one.
"Maybe we should just go," said Ethan.
"Avoid the rain," said Rupert. "It looks like it's going to bucket again."
"Stan will be fine," said Diedre. "He can hitch-hike back like the rest of us. He might not even realise you're waiting on him."
"We should get some things from the trunk before you go," said Randall. "And I've got Ripper's guitar."
It took an age for them to get back on to the main road, as Rupert took excruciating care to avoid running over dogs, small children and people's worldly goods. The clouds grew darker the whole time.
"Are you sure you're all right to drive?" Ethan asked, a little tardily.
"I haven't had anything to drink for hours," said Rupert.
"I was thinking more of the vampire attack, the communing with a genius loci and the fact that you haven't slept for thirty-six hours."
"I'll be fine," said Rupert. "My hands hurt a little on the wheel, but it's only a two hour drive or so."
"I could drive some of it."
"No," said Rupert, firmly. "But if you want to do something, then just talk. Keep me awake that way."
Ethan thought. "All right then," he said. "I'll tell you a story."
46.
Evelyn led them through the cars, tents, caravans and doused campfires. They crossed the empty edge of the field, heading towards a line of trees: the wood of Salisbury Plain. Ripper had seen people hunting there for firewood earlier.
Ripper had no idea where they were going, or why. Given Evelyn's alleged preference for sex magic, he wondered if they were being taken to an orgy. What would he do if they were?
The canopy obscured the moon, and after the first few yards, he could no longer see the stagelights. He couldn't see anything at all, in fact.
Evelyn recited a chant he knew, and a stretch of light sprang up around them, no more than a few yards wide. She moved on. They stepped over tree roots and through spiderwebs. The air smelt damp and green.
They walked for a long time. Surely the wood couldn't be that large? It was hard to tell if they were headed in the same direction, always, because of the darkness and the constant need to turn this way and that around the yews and oaks. He could still hear the festival music, very faintly, below the sound of the wind in the leaves and, just possibly, the waters of a nearby stream.
Ripper hadn't looked at his watch before they left. He didn't know how long they'd been walking. He glanced at it now and saw that dawn was not too far off. How were they going to get back to the Henge in time for sunrise?
At first he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but as they got closer, he became more certain that he saw pinpricks of light ahead.
Evelyn abruptly cancelled her spell. She turned to face them, becoming a silhouette in front of the lights.
"Don't embarrass me, OK? Do as you're asked, chant when you're asked to chant, don't say anything else otherwise. And for God's sake, don't try and change or distort the spell in any way. This is dangerous. If we get this wrong, not only will I never invite you to any other event, but we'll probably be dead. Ethan? This is absolutely not the time for you to start playing around."
"OK," said Ethan, a bodiless voice a couple of yards to Ripper's left.
"And you, Ripper," she said. "I don't know you, so if you do anything untoward, I'll just flatten you. Completely. OK?"
"OK," Ripper said.
"Be good boys," said Evelyn.
Ripper's eyes adapted just enough that he didn't trip too much on the final couple of minutes of walk. They reached a clearing where many white sheets had been laid out on the ground. These were covered in a complicated series of pentagrams and circles at least ten yards wide. The pattern was laid out with candles, chunks of volcanic rock, and small animal skulls. Ripper had never seen anything like it.
There were maybe fifty people there, of varying ages and modes of dress. Ripper tried to spot the three wizards who had killed the vampires earlier, but couldn't see them.
There was a bald man, fortyish maybe, built like a wrestler and wearing a robe. "It's time now," he boomed. "Form the circle."
Evelyn sat down cross-legged, just outside the painted pattern. She motioned for them to sit down. Then she produced a small knife.
"Make a small cut in the centre of both your palms."
"What?" said Ripper.
"Make a--"
"I, I heard, yes, ah--"
"Or you can leave," said Evelyn, smiling. She sliced into her left palm with a grimace. "The blood has to mingle all the way around the circle."
She passed the knife to Ethan. "Can you do my other hand? I'm very right-handed."
Ethan did so. The knife looked very sharp. Then he cut into his own hands, with only a flicker of hesitation. He wiped the knife on his trouserleg before passing it to Ripper.
Ripper didn't feel that he had fully informed consent. "What is the spell exactly?"
"Rupert..." said Ethan.
"Flatten you completely," said Evelyn. "Are you in or out? We're summoning a presence."
"A demon?"
"A genius loci. We're summoning the spirit of Salisbury Plain."
Ripper cut into his hands, with rather more difficulty for the second one. It hurt quite a bit. He found a clean handkerchief to wipe the blade with before passing it back.
"At least I'm not stoned this time," said Ethan.
The circle was almost formed. A few people were hurrying to their places. Ripper sat between Evelyn and Ethan, who held his hands palm pressed against palm, sticky and wet and warm in the cool pre-dawn air.
The wrestler-wizard had yet to sit down. He paced around the circle with a torch, checking that every pair of hands was held in the proper grip. Then he went back to his place in the circle and took out a large curved knife to cut his own. He started to recite something in a language that Ripper not only didn't know, but didn't recognise. That was surprising.
He glanced over at Evelyn. She looked nervous. Ripper suddenly felt very scared. He could feel Ethan's blood -- or was it his own? -- dripping down his wrist.
The head wizard picked up a wide, flat bowl of some metallic-smelling substance and flung its contents into the centre of the circle. It was a dark liquid that splashed widely, hitting Ripper's face and clothes. He felt Evelyn grip his hand even tighter.
The wizard finally sat down and reached out to those on either side. Perhaps it was Ripper's imagination, but he thought he felt something like an electrical jolt run through him as the circle closed.
The main part of the spell began then. This part was familar: a call-and-response between the leading wizard and the rest of the circle. The words were now in cod-Latin, clearly of no antiquity, although possibly translated from an older language, or modified from a related loci spell of---
Bloody hell.
47.
It was well past sunrise but Ethan couldn't remember having seen the dawn. In truth, he was having trouble remembering all sorts of things, such as his name. He thought he might be lying on his back. He kept having to blink; everything looked like a series of still photographs. None of it really seemed to connect.
Evelyn: "You two look trashed."
Tree branches, dark cloud.
Evelyn, looking very pale.
A mouse skull sitting on blood-brown splashed paper.
Rupert: "Geologically old."
Fat drops of rain falling on his upturned face.
Two men walking past, carrying a dead goat.
Ethan (himself): "Mox ubi ridendas inclusit pagina partes, vera redit facies, assimulata perit."
A woman, picking up pumice.
Scabs in the centre of both his hands.
Rupert, lying on his back with his knees bent, looking muddy and yet somehow very attractive. He should try to crawl towards him.
"It's starting to rain. I'm walking back."
Ethan felt the return of cause and effect: it slammed him in the back of the head. He stood up and tottered over to Rupert.
"Rupert," he said, shaking him. "Rupert. Evelyn's leaving. We should go." Rupert looked up at him. He was wearing his glasses. "We have to go."
"Yes, right," said Rupert. "So we should."
The walk back seemed much quicker than the walk they'd had last night. They mostly walked in silence, although Evelyn asked him, "What did you say back there?"
"What did I say back there?" asked Ethan, struggling to recall.
"The farce ends, the smiles come off, revealing the true face below," said Rupert.
"All right then," said Evelyn.
The rain suddenly became very heavy and they sheltered under an oak.
"It's ten o'clock," said Rupert. "Why is it ten o'clock already?"
The rain died down, then stopped altogether. They tromped through the mud. Evelyn paused at the edge of the wood. "Well, don't thank me or anything."
"Thank you," said Ethan.
"Thank you," said Rupert.
"I'm going that way now," she said, pointing, "back to my tent. You guys should go back to your friends."
"OK," said Rupert.
"OK," said Ethan.
"You two take care," she said.
Ethan and Rupert walked towards Stonehenge and towards the stage. Yet another band was playing now, but the crowds of last night were starting to disperse. There was a lot of frustrated traffic, trying to find its way out past clumps of standing and sitting people.
"You called me Rupert back there," said Rupert.
"I looked at your driver's license," said Ethan. "Why wouldn't I want to know your name?"
The others weren't back where they'd left them and Randall was, surprisingly, not immediately visible. Ethan thought they should go and ask the Wallys if they'd seen him.
His hunch was good, and they found Diedre and Randall curled up together in a corner of a Wally tent.
"The sunrise was awesome," said Randall. "Clear sky just long enough, the dawn light reflected on the gathering cloud and ancient stone... Mind-blowing."
"Mmm," said Ethan.
Rupert polished his glasses, looked surprised to be holding them, then put them in his jacket pocket.
"When do you want me to drive you back?" Rupert asked.
"We're not going yet," said Diedre. "We're staying on."
"The Wallys have kindly offered us a place to stay for a few days. We've got more people we want to catch up on."
"How will you get home?" asked Ethan.
"Hitch," said Diedre.
"And where's Stan?"
"He made a new friend," said Diedre, "and has gone back to her tent."
"Teepee," said Randall. "She said teepee."
"Well, how long is he expecting us to wait for him?" Ethan asked.
Diedre shrugged.
"We could kip here for an hour or two before the drive back, see if he turns up," Ethan suggested to Rupert.
There was just enough room in the tent for the four of them to lie down. Ethan found he couldn't sleep, his mind still struggling to cope with the aftermath of the spell. The khaki ceiling of the tent was too close and he was uncomfortably aware that the rough ground underneath him was a continuous part of Salisbury Plain. When he glanced over, Rupert had his eyes closed but his breathing was in his waking-tempo, not his sleeping one.
"Maybe we should just go," said Ethan.
"Avoid the rain," said Rupert. "It looks like it's going to bucket again."
"Stan will be fine," said Diedre. "He can hitch-hike back like the rest of us. He might not even realise you're waiting on him."
"We should get some things from the trunk before you go," said Randall. "And I've got Ripper's guitar."
It took an age for them to get back on to the main road, as Rupert took excruciating care to avoid running over dogs, small children and people's worldly goods. The clouds grew darker the whole time.
"Are you sure you're all right to drive?" Ethan asked, a little tardily.
"I haven't had anything to drink for hours," said Rupert.
"I was thinking more of the vampire attack, the communing with a genius loci and the fact that you haven't slept for thirty-six hours."
"I'll be fine," said Rupert. "My hands hurt a little on the wheel, but it's only a two hour drive or so."
"I could drive some of it."
"No," said Rupert, firmly. "But if you want to do something, then just talk. Keep me awake that way."
Ethan thought. "All right then," he said. "I'll tell you a story."
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 01:19 pm (UTC)I can't remember if Randall is American. If not, he should say 'boot' of the car, not 'trunk.'
no subject
Date: 2011-06-15 12:25 pm (UTC)Went to the physio this afternoon. He prodded my back and neck very painfully, but I seem to be better for it.
Randall's from the US, but he's been living in the UK for some years. Also, he means the wooden trunk that's in the boot.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-15 12:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-15 12:38 pm (UTC)I originally thought Randall would be British, but the dream sequence in "The Dark Age" has someone saying "Time to go to sleep" in a US accent and the voice isn't Eyghon's. The most likely explanation I could think of was that Randall was from the US.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-15 12:45 pm (UTC)Also, meant to thank you for your shout-out on your LJ.
My pleasure. I remain utterly bewildered at how few people appear to be reading this. Unless they're reading and not commenting. Anyway, whichever it is, they're missing a treat.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-15 12:02 am (UTC)I couldn't help laughing at this because I've always wondered why people on TV always cut themselves in such an ill chosen place since the palm of one's hand makes healing difficult and it interferes with all sorts of things!
"The farce ends, the smiles come off, revealing the true face below," said Rupert.
Hmm, nice considering Chaos' image.
"I was thinking more of the vampire attack, the communing with a genius loci and the fact that you haven't slept for thirty-six hours."
Indeed! He's had an eventful trip.