An Embittered Witch, page 10
‘No, thanks, I’m just going out for a walk.’ I looked up to a flash of red sweeping by the tall glass windows of the street. That was Win’s coat, it had to be. She looked to be in a hurry, and was walking with purpose. Curious, I made to run after her, but the man stayed in my way, blocking me into the corner by a large urn.
‘I can get you a guide. You need to be careful where you go,’ he cautioned. ‘There are some bad areas, even this close to the hotel.’
‘No, I’m just going to catch up with my friend,’ I said, trying to squirm around him.
‘The Hutongs, for example,’ he continued. ‘The local small neighborhoods. They are not good places for tourists, only the government sanctioned ones can be guaranteed to be safe. Those will be good and clean, with no bad elements. You can have a proper tourist experience.’
Win was already out of my sightline. No matter, if I ran, it would only take me a moment to find her.
‘No,’ I said, finally physically pushing the man out of my way. ‘No, I have to go!’
I sped through the lobby, politely elbowing my way through the crowd of people registering at the desk and the piles of luggage everywhere.
When I finally pushed through the door and onto the street, I quickly glanced in both directions to see which route she was taking, but there was no sign of Win at first. Then a large bus pulled into the traffic and I spotted her up the road and across, her red coat disappearing around a corner down a side street.
‘Win!’ I yelled out, but there was no way she could have heard me from that distance, not with all the traffic noise. So I sped up again, darting through the stalled vehicles to get to the other side, almost getting run over by a moped which weaved its way through the jam, and I jogged along the gutter till I reached the corner she’d turned down.
I stared down the lane. It was a rabbit warren of people, endless people, but few vehicles here so not as dangerous. I glanced up at the street sign to note my surroundings in case I got lost, then laughed, for of course it was written in Chinese characters. I couldn’t read it. A thrill ran through me. I was truly in a foreign country now.
It started out as an adventure, chasing Win through the labyrinth of back alleys and lanes. It was still fun at that point. I kept note of the turns in the off chance I didn’t catch up with her as I proceeded down the crowded laneways. But I wasn’t too worried. I could still see flashes of that bright red coat up ahead. I looked all around me as I hurried through the small street, wanting to take in the strangeness, to get a better sense of my surroundings.
The smell was most noticeable. Old cabbage and boiled vegetables and a peculiar tone of sulfur rising from the gutters. Unrecognizable spices mixed with diesel, and here and there a whiff of cleansing incense cut through the air.
The buildings were three, perhaps four stories tall, leaning towards the street like they were competing for the sunlight. People, bodies everywhere, paused at the vegetable stalls, sitting on the stoops, hanging out laundry far above my head, and each of them talking and calling out over the street racket.
It was sensory overload to my sleep deprived brain. A wave of dizziness threatened. The sounds and the smells were overwhelming. I leaned against a concrete house wall and waited for it to pass. I thought of retracing my steps, to get myself out of this din, but knew I was totally lost by now. Win would be my only way out.
Looking up, I caught a last splash of red turning yet another corner, through an arched gate, so I pushed myself off again and began to run in earnest, unmindful of the obstacles in my path, using my elbows where necessary to push through. And the voices all around me grew louder.
Suddenly it was as if I’d stepped into Alt, an unfamiliar Chinese alternate world filled with the most terrifying of beings, and I could only take in glimpses of the awfulness all around me. The air was smoky from incense and filled with loud discordant melodies, a misfit orchestra with no player on the same page. The racket grabbed at my brain and tore at me inside. Huge white painted faces loomed from the murk, their eyes rimmed with kohl, and wraiths shimmered in the air, faces painted with agony, darting towards my head like crows wanting to pluck out my eyes.
Was this what the man at the hotel had been trying to warn me about? The Hutongs of Alt Beijing?
I covered my head with my arms against these visions. They couldn’t be real, but my movement was instinctive. A golden fearsome dragon reared up in front of me, blinding me with the smoke from his nostrils, and everywhere I turned there were more painted faces jeering at me, pushing me, pulling me down. Through the hot incense a figure loomed out. She could have been an Empress with her golden headdress inlaid with the deep jewel tones of cloisonné. Her face too was dead white, but her eyes sparked as she whispered to me, the sibilance cutting through the racket all around but the sound of the words not quite on this plane of existence.
I couldn’t remove my eyes from hers, like burning coals they drew me in to their mystery, then she held out an object and I knew she was commanding me to take it. I reached out. The small object exactly fitted into the hollow of my hand, cool against my skin. It was a deep green circle, opaque, perhaps jade? I looked back up to her to question her, to ask why, but she was gone.
In her place was a cackling, toothless old woman, dressed in drab, jeering at me. ‘Find Win,’ she screeched, or I thought she did. Perhaps she was insulting me in Mandarin, I didn’t know. She screeched again and laughed. Oh how that sound ripped through my head.
I wrenched myself around the last corner, through the narrow gate I was sure I’d spotted Win slip into. It led into a dark tunnel under the building, but there was brightness immediately up ahead.
At last I found the respite of peace. There were no people here in this courtyard, with tall concrete walls, but it was a dead end, with no sign of my friend or her red coat.
Eighteen
I slumped against the nearest wall, gasping for breath, willing my heart to slow down. As my vision cleared I became more aware of the utter silence surrounding me in this hidden courtyard. I hesitantly removed my hands from ears and listened. Not a human voice, no music, not even a bird call.
The space was, as I’d noted, an enclosed courtyard, an empty place with a rusted water pump in the center and only a single doorway breaking up the expanse of the lichen covered walls stretching high above my head. A tiny window sat to the left of the door, arched and covered with iron grillwork. Win was not here.
Nobody was here. A single drip from the pump sounded loudly against the cobbled ground. Water. The thought of the cool refreshing liquid filled my head, and I was seized with a desire to drink.
I hesitated. Had I slipped through into the Chinese version of Alt? It had felt that way, and if so, I should be cautious before imbibing anything here. It could be a Mandarin Fae land, and anything I ate or drank would bind me in horrible ways… But I didn’t even know if Beijing had an Alt, and my thirst was overwhelming, so I took my chances. I worked the handle and after a moment, a gush of water rewarded me. I wet my finger in the flow and hesitantly tasted. It seemed good, not polluted, so I bent my head to drink directly from the tap. I drank till my thirst was quenched.
As I rehydrated and my senses returned to normal, it came to me that I must have stumbled into preparations for the Chinese New Year.
‘For frig’s sake,’ I scolded myself. Of course that was it. The costumes, the masks, the fire-breathing dragon – it all made sense when I looked at it in that new light. I hadn’t slipped into another dimension at all, I was just disorientated from low blood sugar and a lack of sleep.
Yet I still held that piece of stone in my hand. I inspected it closer. Perhaps an inch and a half wide, it was circular and flat in shape, with a crossbar on the diameter. The cool jade had the texture of glass against my skin, the deep green glowing, and I sensed a foreign magic about the thing. Why did she give it to me? What were the words she’d said? It was in Mandarin, or perhaps some other offshoot dialect. I cursed my basic ignorance.
For now, I placed the object in my jeans pocket for safety. I had to find Win.
Wiping my face with my sleeve, I looked around again. I knew Win had come into this courtyard. I could still see in my mind’s eye that red coat disappearing through the very same gate I’d come through, so she had to have gone through the single door. I was reluctant to follow her, for this was no longer a simple matter of me casually catching up with her as she strode through the lanes. Knocking on that door would bring my actions uncomfortably close to stalking. I glanced back at the dark gateway from whence I’d come, the long narrow tunnel beneath the building, and I shivered. I wasn’t quite ready to brave that show again, not yet. It was too soon.
But I couldn’t just sit there, waiting for Win to re-emerge. That would just be weird.
So I summoned up all my courage and slowly approached the door, willing Win to come bouncing out before I had to knock. But she didn’t. To stall, I checked my phone again. Perhaps she had replied to my texts.
But my phone was inexplicably dead. There’d been plenty of juice in it before I left the hotel. That didn’t feel right, not at all.
And it proved beyond a doubt that I was in a Chinese version of Alt.
I felt the cold knot of fear rising again, not just the panic of finding myself in the middle of a foreign magic dimension, but the hard frozen nugget of justifiable terror. I banged on the door, shouting and calling Win’s name, but there was no answer.
I stepped back, preparing to pull myself up to look through the tiny barred window, when the heavy plank door opened of its own volition. My mouth was suddenly parched again, I couldn’t find the spit to swallow down my fear.
‘Win?’ My voice quavered in the deathly silence. ‘Are you there, Win? Are you playing a game?’
No answer.
‘Come off it Win, not funny,’ I continued in the barest whisper. ‘Okay, you fooled me. You got me.’
I heard a sigh from the open portal, like a long slow gust of wind, but there was no movement of air in this sheltered courtyard. There was nothing for it. I’d come this far, I had to enter.
Forcing one foot before the other, I ducked my head and entered the doorway. It was dark inside, and colder even than outside. I was in a corridor with stone walls and floors, yet my boots made no echo.
Looking about me, I nearly jumped out of my skin, for there before me, suddenly and with no noise of movement to announce her presence, stood a woman. She was dressed in old garb, a loose yellow robe with another flowing, paler garment beneath that. Her black hair was intricately braided into a hairpiece that stood up from the back of her head. The rest of her hair disappeared into a single braid behind her back. Her face was serene as she lightly bowed to me.
Oh, and I could see the individual stones of the wall behind her, faintly, but they were definitely visible. She also had no feet, her robe ending about six inches above the ground. So definitely, a ghost. Where the hell had Win led me?
But the spirit wasn’t trying to spook me. Her smile was barely there, and the peace emanating from her was palpable, a solid presence. She turned to lead me down the long corridor which stretched before us.
In for a penny, in for a pound. One of Hugh’s ridiculous sayings. What I wouldn’t give to have him here by my side, but he never seemed to be around when the going got tough for me. I swallowed, and fervently hoped this spirit was bringing me to Win.
All the doors were closed along the hallway, all except one. She paused outside it. The door itself was unlike the others, not solid planks. Instead, it was round, a circle, and made of lattice. The wood was carved into a labyrinth pattern.
Through the spaces, I saw a figure kneeling before an altar. The candles on either side gave the only light, and in the golden glow they cast, I saw the red of Win’s coat. She appeared to be praying. I felt rather awkward. I wanted nothing more than to run to her and make contact with a real human after the weird experiences I’d traversed through, but I couldn’t interrupt her. It wouldn’t be respectful.
I turned to my guiding wraith, but she had disappeared again, leaving only the dank chill of the stones.
It was only then I became aware of the low notes sounding through the room before me, a harmony of beautiful notes. I couldn’t tell what kind of instrument created these – it could have been human voices, or wind instruments, or even a stringed mandolin. The notes were pure though, and so restful to my ears. I stayed where I was, just listening.
All of a sudden Win gave a sharp cry and arched her back, her hands thrown into the air. The incense, already smoky in the room, thickened and morphed and a dragon shape appeared before my eyes, all red and gold, with beady eyes and a terrifying visage. I cowered next to the open door, but the dragon wasn’t concerned with me. It roared and darted toward Win, its summoner, but she remained kneeling before it, bravely holding her arms out.
And then, the dragon writhed and in the space between its fearsome legs and wings, a vision appeared. It was a room like none other I’d ever seen, the walls curving to meet the ceiling like a cave. Were they walls? Their texture was more like coral, the whitest coral, an organic structure which had seemingly grown from a marble floor.
But those walls looked alive. What I’d first taken to be coral-like protrusions were actual carvings of the heads of fantastic beasts. Dragons, lions, strange birds with terrifying beaks. In the wavering light of the single lantern on the table in the vision, their shadows breathed, a swarming mass where solid walls should be.
This room, or coral cave, was sparsely furnished with only a rough cot in the small space, the weathered wood frame holding a thin mattress, a blanket and, clearly, a body. I leaned in closer to see better. Her figure (for it was a woman) wore a simple pale robe, much like my ghostly usher. Yet this person was real, in as much as a vision could be solid. I peered closer without coming further into the room. She was beauty personified, not glamoured, but she had the loveliness of purity as if she was a holy being.
She made no movement, and neither did Win.
Suddenly another person stepped into view in this diorama, a tall figure, who stood over the rough bed and the seemingly lifeless body lying on it. My heart sank, for I knew that straight-backed posture, the graceful turn of the long neck, even before she showed her face. Her auburn hair glinted darkly in the faint light. Her modern pantsuit in the finest cream linen was a designer I’d never heard of, undoubtedly exclusive only to the very wealthiest of customers. The trust-funded aristocracy.
Margaret Forsythe. As if she felt my recognition, she whipped around to face us, her audience, and her eyes narrowed. She couldn’t possibly see us, Win had created a vision with her dragon magic and although we could see the scene clearly, it was magically impossible for the looking glass to be reversed.
Wasn’t it?
Nineteen
A terrible rage convulsed on Margaret’s face and she pointed her finger directly at Win through the cloud of incense, still kneeling before the altar and the vision she had conjured.
‘Kin,’ she spit, her sibilant hiss reaching sounding through the altar room. ‘Of course, the Kin.’
Though I couldn’t see her face, I could tell Win was petrified, unable to stop the vision or Margaret’s rage reaching through. I gasped involuntarily and tried to withdraw, but the movement caught the witch’s eye.
‘You.’ The maddened glitter of her eyes caught me in their thrall, and it was my turn to stand unable to move, like a butterfly caught with a pin.
The wrath of Margaret was a fearsome thing. The hatred and anger in her gaze cut across the vision. I hadn’t felt such terror since the first time I’d seen her as the hag deep underground in her cursed cell in the Edinburgh Vaults.
By fixing on me, she must have loosened her hold on Win, who was quick to act, clapping her hands defiantly. As her hands moved together a sound like a soft gong vibrated through the room, more felt than heard, and the dragon and the scene before us disappeared along with Margaret and the solitary figure on the bed, all dissipating back into the thick cloud of incense. The only sound was Win’s heavy breathing, ragged gasps. She stood up slowly, as if it was an effort. She bowed to the altar, empty except for the two candles, then made to leave the room.
And only then could I breathe again.
Her shoulders slumped and a line of worry indented the center of her forehead. Her aspect was sorrowful, and her gaze was far away even as she made to leave the room. She looked totally wiped. The conjuring of this fearsome visage had exhausted her.
I recovered myself, removing the piece of jade from my pocket and ready to brandish it in front of her to explain my presence. I should have cleared my throat or something, given her a head’s up that I was there, because she only looked up when she was almost upon me, and such a screech she gave, I swear it rang from the rafters for moments after.
‘Jesus Christ Dara!’
‘Didn’t mean to scare you.’
‘How the hell did you get here?’ She emphasized both the person and the place in her question, as if my presence in this ghostly monastery was inconceivable to her.
‘I, uh, I followed you.’
‘What, like you just walked on through Lijiang Alley?’ Utter disbelief was in her eyes and her tone. ‘No way, that’s impossible. You could never have made it through.’ At these words, her face took on an expression of unadulterated fear, and she quickly checked behind me, to see who or what had accompanied me.
‘But I’m here,’ I said, simply, and even Win couldn’t argue with that simple fact. She shook her head and began stomping away, down the corridor to the courtyard beyond. ‘And a ghost brought me to the temple or whatever room that is.’
She gave another start. I saw her back tense up, but then she pushed on through.
‘What is this place?’ I called after her as I hurried to catch up. I didn’t want to be left alone with a foreign ghost no matter how benevolent she might be. ‘Is this Chinese Alt?’
