Simon Green - Spirits from Beyond

Happy looked at JC. “What do we do now?”

“Give me a minute,” said JC. “I’m thinking. .”

“I don’t think we have a minute!” said Melody. “The oak beams are still back in the inn. Should we drag them out here and burn them?”

“In this rain?” said Happy.

“Oh, I think they’ll go up easily enough,” said Melody.

“No,” said JC.

Melody looked at him. “No? What do you mean, no? It was your idea!”

“I think I’ve had a better one,” said JC. “Fire is the old way. The Druid way. And I have had enough of that old evil.”

He looked out across the clearing. Where the Wicker Man had been, the blonde woman stood in her white shift, untouched by the storm. JC walked over to stand before her, smiling reassuringly.

“Go,” he said kindly. “Go. There’s nothing holding you here any longer. This is still a place of power, the local power source; so use it to do something right, at last. Let your rage go. Let the storm go. . And be at peace, at last.”

The blonde woman considered his words; and then nodded slowly. She rose into the air, light as a moonbeam, until, finally, she hung in the night sky, high above the clearing. Glowing bright as any star. One by one, the ghosts rose after her, taking the rain with them. The rain-drops reversed direction, falling upwards. The wind slowed, and calmed, and died out. The storm was gone. After so many years, only the rage had kept it going. One by one, the ghosts winked out, like blown-out candles. Until only the blonde woman remained. She looked around slowly, saying good-bye to the land and people she had looked over for so long, then. . quietly and without any fuss, she was gone.

* * *

JC looked slowly around him. The car park was back, and not a drop of rain or breath of wind anywhere. The King’s Arm was still a ruin, though.

“How about that?” said Happy. “After everything we’ve been through, all it took to put things right was the quiet voice of reason.”

“Shame that doesn’t work more often,” said Melody.

“One big tick in the win column, I think,” said JC. “Pity about the King’s Arms, but then, it’s not like Brook’s around to complain about it.”

“To save the inn, it was necessary to destroy the inn,” Melody said solemnly.

“Cold, Mel,” said Happy. “How are we going to explain what’s happened to the townspeople?

“Lightning strike,” said JC.

“What about the local power source?” said Happy. “Is it still here? And what was it, originally?”

“I don’t suppose we’ll ever know,” said JC. “It’s a bad place, that made bad things possible. Hopefully, it will lie quiet now; so long as no-one’s stupid enough to disturb it. I’ll put a note in my report, for the Institute to keep an eye on things, just in case.”

“Let’s go home,” said Kim. “We’re not needed any more.”

“Good idea,” said JC. “I think we’ve done as much damage here as we can.”

JC lay on his back, on his bed, back in his own apartment. Legs crossed, eyes half-closed, every muscle so relaxed he felt practically boneless. There’s nothing more comfortable than a mattress that knows you and fits the shape of your body like a glove. It was good to be back home, and good to have Kim home with him again. JC lay there and watched happily as Kim fluttered cheerfully back and forth around his new apartment. Clapping her hands, oohing and aahing all over the place, as she checked out absolutely everything. She even stuck her head through closed doors to see what was on the other side. JC couldn’t keep from wincing every time she did that.

In the end, Kim stood at the foot of his bed and shook her head firmly. “You’ve changed the colour scheme!” she said loudly. “I don’t like it! And honestly, darling; this room is a mess. Men shouldn’t be allowed to live on their own. They don’t know how.”

“If I’d known you were on your way back, I’d have made an effort and tidied up a bit,” said JC. “Sorry it’s all a bit of a dump, but. . I live here.”

Kim sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. Or at least, she did her best-hovering as close to the bed as she could manage.

“Have you phoned Catherine Latimer yet, JC?”

“Not yet,” said JC. He linked his hands together over his chest. “There’s no hurry. We finished the job way ahead of schedule, so she can wait for her official report.”

“I thought you wanted to ask her whether she really did send you there on purpose because of the encounter you had with Lud in London Undertowen?”

“Why bother?” said JC. “I think we already know the answer, don’t we? She’s playing games with us, running us around like rats in a maze, as part of the bigger game she’s playing with The Flesh Undying.” JC looked thoughtfully at Kim. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course you can, sweetie!”

“Did I really die, down there in the London Tube system? Am I only here because some unknown force from Outside took an interest in me, and brought me back to life, for purposes of its own?”

“Of course you’re not dead, silly,” said Kim. “I mean, I’d know if anyone would, wouldn’t I?”

“Yes,” said JC. “But would you tell me?”

Kim looked down her nose at him. “You’ve been spending far too much time listening to Happy, in my absence. Have you been looking after yourself while I was away? Eating properly, and all that?”

“I’ve been keeping busy,” said JC. “Where have you been, all this time, Kim? What have you been up to? You can talk to me.”

“What you don’t know can’t hurt you,” said Kim. “Possibly quite literally. I will tell you everything, JC, when I can. Now hush. You’re tired. Go to sleep.”

“I’ve been. . having trouble sleeping, all the time you were gone,” said JC.

“Well, that’s all over now,” said Kim. “I’m back, so there’s nothing to worry about any more. Close your eyes. Don’t worry about the dark, or the job, or the Boss, or anything else. You can sleep now. Because I’m here with you, and I will watch over you, all the hours of the night.”

JC smiled and closed his eyes, and was almost immediately fast asleep. For the first time in a long time, sleep embraced him easily, and the cares of the day fell away, and were gone. Kim smiled fondly at him, leaned over, and kissed the air very near his forehead.

“Sleep well, my love. You’re going to need your strength for what’s coming.”

* * *

Happy and Melody sat side by side, on matching chairs, before the big desk in their study. All the usual electronic clutter had been pushed to one side, so Happy could lay out and sort through all the various pills and potions and special mixtures he’d accumulated. He explained their various uses and side effects to Melody, who wrote it all down in her special note-book. Happy paused, to take a drink of water from the glass before him. He’d been talking for some time, and his mouth was getting dry.

“Do you really need to know all this?” he said mildly.

“Yes,” said Melody, firmly. “If I’m going to be a part of. . this, I need to know everything you’re doing. No more secrets. Since it’s clear to me now that you can’t cope without all this stuff, I need to be able to keep an informed eye on you. How else can I look after you properly?”

“Then don’t bother with all the long names,” said Happy. “I don’t. Go by the numbers. If I’ve marked something with a low number, that means it’s a downer. A high number, an upper. If there’s a letter alongside the number on the label, that means it’s one of my special mixes.”

“I need to know what they all do,” said Melody, glaring at the row upon row of bottles and boxes laid out in neat ranks before her.