A Step Beyond Read online

  “Not him. I don’t know, maybe Harley Perran? The bloke was plenty mad when Daniel up and left town, especially owing Harley ten pounds.” None of it made any sense at all. Gort dismissed the suggestion of his uncle as paranoia. Nobody had seen or heard from his uncle for six months.

  “Regardless who it was, from now on, I want you two boys to stick to each other. Any message you need to give each other has to be given in person. I don’t like the feel of this at all.” Gort noticed the distress on her face before Emily could conceal it from him.

  “Bloody Hell.” His mutter was muffled by the blanket. Something like this would have to happen now, just when it was starting to feel safe.Who would want to hurt him enough to follow him around in this foul weather?

  “I’m gonna ask Maureen tomorrow why she told me not to meet you.” Coll glowered into the flames in the hearth.

  “Me, too.”

  “Did you get any supper, Gort?” Emily asked.

  “I stopped for some fish and chips at the chip shop before I went to the library. I ate Coll’s bit too, when he didn’t show up.”

  “Then, I think it’s time for bed. It’s after nine, and it has been a long night, between Coll worrying and you walking in the storm.” Emily nodded at the door to the hall to emphasize her words.

  The boys unfolded themselves from their chairs and deposited their cups in the kitchen sink before heading for the door to the hall. Once they door swung shut behind them, Coll gripped Gort’s arm.

  “You’re sure you didn’t see anything when you looked behind you, nothing at all?” Coll whispered sharply.

  “I told you, I didn’t see anything, and I looked more than once.”

  “It just doesn’t make sense, none of it,”

  Coll released his friend’s arm and led the way down the dark hall. After flicking the switch at the foot of the stair, the boys made their way up to the landing. Gort reached over and turned the hall light on before turning off the one over the stairs. Shadows of any shape or description spooked him tonight.

  * * *

  Coll closed the bedroom door firmly behind them and waited until his friend was snugly in bed before plunging the room into darkness. In the dim illumination from the street lamp leaking through the curtains, Gort’s eyes glinted in the darkness. Coll was overwhelmed for a moment by the fierceness of his need to protect his best friend from more pain. Nobody should have to endure that kind of stuff. Unconsciously, the older boy curled his hands into fists and experienced an odd joy at the thought of smashing whoever it was that threatened Gort. “We’ll figure this out tomorrow. Don’t let it worry you overmuch. I’m sure there must be an explanation for all this mess,” Coll said into the darkness.

  “Let’s hope it’s a good one.” Gort’s voice was muffled as he turned on his side and pulled the blankets up to his nose. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get warm tonight.”

  Coll waited until the even breathing told him Gort was sleeping. Slipping out of bed, he padded down the hall to Emily’s room.

  “Gramma.” Coll tapped softly on her door.

  “Come in, my heart. Is something amiss?” Emily was sitting in her rocking chair by the reading lamp in the corner of her room.

  “I don’t like any of what went on today.” Coll sat down on the stool by Emily’s feet.

  “I can’t say as I’m very happy about any of it either,” Emily agreed.

  “If it wasn’t Stuart, then who was it?”

  Emily sighed. “I’ll have a word with Sarie tomorrow, maybe she’ll have some idea about what is going on. Ask Aisling in the morning and see if she has heard anything that might shed some light on the situation.”

  “Maybe Ash will have some ideas; that’s a good thought Gramma.”

  “There’s nothing to be done tonight, so you might as well get some sleep. Morning comes early you know.” Emily brushed the top of Coll’s head gently with her hand.

  “I guess you‘re right, Gramma.” Coll pushed himself up off the stool and kissed Emily on the cheek. “See you in the morning.”

  “Call me if you need me in the night,” Emily told him. “It’s been four months since we’ve dealt with the night terrors. I hope tonight won’t bring them back.”

  Coll waited while she reached up and turned off the reading lamp before going back to his room. Outside the wind continued to throw rain against the window panes, and the roar of the sea carried up the narrow street from the harbor below.

  * * *

  Morning came, as it always did. The sun struggled to fight through the fog blanketing the town. Gort shivered at the sound of the sea sucking at the shingle down by the promenade. The slap of the tide sounded preternaturally loud in the thick grey air when he opened Emily’s front door to retrieve the bottle of milk sitting on the doorstep. Gort quickly snatched the milk and shut the door behind him, leaning on the wall and fighting to conquer the terror clawing at his chest.

  “There’s nothing out there, just the fog. Quit being such an idiot.” The whispered words pushed past the tightness in his throat.

  He forced himself to take a deep breath and relax his death grip on the neck of the milk bottle. When his breathing steadied, Gort continued down the hall into the kitchen, setting the bottle on the counter. His face felt tight and strange in reaction to the internal struggle to shove the fear to the back of his mind.

  “Everything okay?” Emily asked.

  “Is there someone out there?” Coll was on his feet and halfway to the hall door.

  “No, nothing. Nothing except my imagination.” A weak laugh escaped.

  “You sure?” Coll stopped with his hand on the door.

  “Relax, mate. I’m just jumpy this morning.” Gort caught his friend’s gaze, smiling to convey his gratitude for the offer of defence on his behalf.

  “Leave off, Coll. Come and eat your breakfast.” Emily set the plates on the table.

  By the time the boys set off up the street for school, the sun had won the battle, and the fog was only ragged grey remnants which drifted into the corners of the buildings and wafted across the surface of the ebbing tide. They met Aisling at the corner of Alexandra Road, and the three of them continued on toward the red brick school.

  “You mean Maureen told you Gort said not to meet him?” Aisling was startled by the news. “Why would she say that?”

  “I don’t know. I never spoke to her yesterday, don’t think I even saw her,” Gort told her.

  “Someone put her up to it,” Coll accused.

  “Who would do that, though, especially since you don’t think it was Stuart?” Aisling laid her hand on Gort’s arm. “It wasn’t Daniel was it; come back for revenge?”

  The thin, dark-haired boy shook his head in denial. The prospect of his uncle returning was too unthinkable to even speculate on. “That’s over and done with, innit?”

  “Someone did, that’s for sure,” Coll said stubbornly. “We need to find out who it was before something else happens.”

  Once they reached the school yard, Coll hunted Maureen down and confronted her on the school steps.

  “Why’d ya tell me not to meet Gort last night? Who put you up to it?” Coll’s voice rose angrily.

  “What do you mean, ye git? Some boy ran up and handed me a note, said it was from your mate, and I should let you know you should meet him at home.” Maureen defended herself. “I thought I was doing you a favor.”

  “What kid? Who was it?” Coll persisted.

  “I don’t remember.” Maureen was exasperated. She dug in her coat pocket and produced a crumpled up piece of paper she thrust at Coll. “Here’s the note. I’m not making it up.”

  Coll took the note from her fingers and smoothed it out. The writing was large and sprawled across the page. Maureen was gone when he looked up from his scrutiny of the note.

  “What did she say?” Aisling asked, joining him on the steps.

  “Said some kid gave her a note. This is it.” Coll handed over the scrap of paper.


  “It’s not my writing. I don’t know whose it is.” Gort scrutinized the scribbling.

  “It does look kind of familiar.” Aisling peered over his shoulder. “But I don’t know whose it is either.”

  “This just keeps getting weirder and weirder.” Coll ground his teeth in frustration.

  The school bell rang, drowning out what Aisling was saying. She shrugged helplessly. They trudged up the remaining steps and hurried to their first class, none the wiser for having the note in their possession.

  * * *

  Aisling went back to Emily’s with the boys after school on the pretence of working on their projects. Gort sat by the fire, turning the paper over and over in his hands, a frown creasing his forehead, absently pushing his unruly hair from his eyes. Aisling reached over and gently took the note out of his hands. She smoothed the paper out on her knee and studied the large uneven letters.

  “It’s like I should know who wrote this,” she murmured. “I know I’ve seen this writing before.”

  Coll shook his head, crumpled up the sheet of foolscap he had been working on and threw the balled up paper into the fireplace.

  “I should be getting home; it’ll be getting dark soon.” Aisling glanced out the window into the back garden.

  “I’ll walk you as far as the corner, if you want.” Gort reached for his jacket.

  “Want me to come with you?” Coll asked, still frowning into the fire.

  “I want some time to think on the way back, alone like if you don’t mind, Coll.” Gort desperately wanted to spend some time alone with Aisling. Coll had been moody ever since Laurel went back to Alberta last August, which didn’t always make him the best of company.

  “You be all right? Alone, I mean.” Coll glanced up.

  “It’s only to the corner and back. I’ll be fine. Nobody’s gonna jump me in broad daylight.”

  “If you’re not back in fifteen minutes, I’m coming to look for you.”

  “Yes, Gramma.” Gort grinned at Coll. “You sound just like Emily. I have to work through my fears, like the doctor said.”

  “It’s just a little way, Coll. Not even out of sight of your front door,” Aisling chimed in.

  Coll snorted and returned his attention to his schoolwork. “Just make sure nothing happens or Gramma will skin me alive for letting you out on your own.”

  Once out the door, Gort took Aisling’s school bag from her and captured her left hand with his own. Aisling looked up in surprise, and a brilliant smile lit her face.

  Hand in hand, they walked slowly toward the corner, too happy to spoil it by speaking. Aisling’s hand in his felt warm and sent tingles of something lovely up and down his spine.

  Aisling’s fingers tightened on his as they neared the corner of her street. She was very nearly his height, so there was no need to look down to see her face. Aisling darted a glance toward her house and pulled him into the shadows gathering by the stone wall of Mr. Melways’ courtyard. Gort’s breath stuck in his chest. Breathe, for God’s sake!

  Aisling gently tugged him closer and tucked her arms around his waist. Gort carefully put his hands on her shoulders and gently pressed his lips to hers. Aisling’s arms tightened about him before she leaned her head into his shoulder. They stood quietly for a minute before Aisling stepped back and smiled.

  “I gotta go; heaven forbid my mum should come looking for me.” Aisling’s smile broadened. “You know how she goes on.”

  “Ash.” Nothing seemed the right thing to say; he was overwhelmed by his emotions. “I … you’re … I think you’re wonderful.” Lame, is what that was.

  “I know that, silly.” Aisling touched him quickly on the nose with her finger and then skipped lightly down the road to her house. She turned before she opened the door to blow him a kiss.

  Gort put his hand out toward her and caught the endearment. Smiling happily and stepping out of the shadow of the wall, he walked along lost in his thoughts. He was totally unprepared to be jerked back to reality by a rough hand grabbing him by the scruff of his neck.

  “Hey —” The protest was cut off by the callused palm clamped over his mouth.

  Whoever had him by the back of the neck, half-dragged and half-carried him into a dark narrow lane. Gort tried to get his teeth into the hard flesh digging cruelly into his face. The action was rewarded by a hard shake and a blow which set his ears ringing while bright lights danced across his vision.

  It was full dark now. There was no way to figure out where the man was taking him, his head hurt so much he couldn’t see straight anyway. After what seemed like forever, his captor set him on his feet and twisted his arms painfully backward. His captor secured Gort’s thin wrists with a thick zip tie before spinning him around.

  Gort narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the person’s features. The light behind the figure threw the man’s face into shadows. The dark figure spoke, and his worst nightmare became reality.

  “Ya young whelp, who do you think you are kissing the daughter of that trollop, right in the lane. It’s a good thing it is I’ve come back to keep you in line, innit?” Uncle Daniel’s whiskey-roughened voice cut as surely as a knife.

  Gort forced himself to open his mouth to say something, anything. Nothing came out, just a faint croaking, like a squashed frog, which was pretty much mirrored his feeling at the moment. Daniel’s yellowed teeth glinted in the bit of light filtering into the shed. The youth fought to control the tremors threatening to unlock his knees and drop him to the ground at Daniel’s feet. He knew where they were now; this was the shed behind Daniel’s house. Just two streets over from Emily’s, but it might as well be miles. Gort made himself look up and meet Daniel’s drunken gaze; his heart shrunk in his chest at the anger in his uncle’s eyes.

  He’s going to put me in the cupboard. I can’t go in the cupboard. I won’t.

  The boy shifted his feet and stood up a little straighter. Daniel narrowed his eyes at the small show of defiance. Gort’s heart tripped in his chest as he fought the urge to cower from the rage emanating in waves from his uncle. He resolutely refused to listen to the voice of terror screaming incoherently through his mind.

  “Don’t look at me like that, boy,” Uncle Daniel snarled and took a quick step forward.

  Gort refused to step backward away from him, and at any rate, past experience said such a move would only make his uncle more belligerent. So he stood his ground and hoped Coll would come looking for him soon. As if in answer to his prayers, someone nearby frantically called his name. The voice growing fainter as the person moved farther away. Daniel looked over his shoulder at the sound, and Gort took the chance to bolt for the door. Coll’s name stuck in his dry throat as he tried to call out.

  Uncle Daniel swung back and lifted him by the collar of his jacket. Daniel’s enraged face filled his vision as the man shook him roughly, his feet dangling a foot off the ground. Gort’s throat worked, trying to draw air into his lungs. Daniel’s thin lips drew back from his teeth, his whiskey-laden breath making Gort gag even more than the restricting collar of the coat. Daniel’s hand snaked out, his blow leaving behind a burning, stinging pain on his victim’s face. The boy tried not to let the tears leave his eyes, but Daniel’s next blow knocked all his good intentions out the window.

  He lost count of the number of times Uncle Daniel hit him in the face, his eyes refused to focus, and his face was numb from the hard slaps. Uncle Daniel threw him against the wall of the shed, kneeling on his legs when he slid to the ground. Gort didn’t know how long Uncle Daniel beat on him. His body was one great pain, and still Daniel continued to land blows on his head, stomach, and back.

  “Set the law on me will you? Get some fancy lawyer to take away the money that’s rightfully mine and give it to that auld biddy, Emily?” Uncle Daniel punctuated each accusation with another blow.

  Gort finally just let himself slip into the comforting oblivion where Uncle Daniel and the pain in his body couldn’t follow him. Safe in the enc
ompassing darkness, his searching hand encountered and became entangled in the crystal strands of GogMagog’s mane. Relief at the stallion’s presence washed through him. He’d missed Gog immensely when he had been gone on some business not requiring his soul mate’s presence. There hadn’t been an opportunity to discuss the recent troubling events before Daniel pounced.

  Gort pulled himself to his feet and leaned heavily on the spirit stallion’s shoulder. Not for the first time, the teenager thanked the Goddess for the kinship of the crystal stallion. The bond they formed when Laurel successfully bargained for her mother’s life in the crystal caverns within the Tor sustained Gort and chased away the night terrors. “Thank the gods, you’re here,” Gort’s voice trembled, choked with his tears.

  “I would have come sooner, but I was a long way away.” Gog’s warm breath sent hope and strength coursing through his cold body. The stallion glowed and shimmered with rainbow light; his large liquid eyes as fathomless as the night sky. Powerfully built, the spirit stallion had a long, flowing heavy mane and tail and thick-boned legs. His broad short back and powerful haunches rippled with strength. He belonged to the herd of crystal stallions that wait beneath the Tor for Arthur to call them to battle on the day of Britain’s greatest need. Partners in many former lives, man and horse were re-united once again. In the everyday world, Gog appeared as a sturdy black Fell pony who never strayed far from Gort’s side.

  “Come with me for a while. Leave what is for a time, and travel with me to what was once,” GogMagog entreated him.

  “Lead me to it.” Gort stepped away from the warm crystalline shoulder of the great stallion. Without a backward glance, the lad walked away from the pathetic heap of clothes and blood Uncle Daniel was still beating on.

  Chapter Two

  The farther they walked from the dank little shed and Uncle Daniel’s rage, the better he felt. The pain faded from his limbs, and strength flowed outward from the warmth in his chest.