Devil's Rock - Chris Speyer [71]
‘Crab,’ I said, ‘see that the booty is fairy divided.’ I knew the mayhem this would unleash, and I was not disappointed. As I strode off into the darkness, the sounds of shots, cries, curses and the clash of steel echoed about the valley.
The business of sealing the cave had occupied me so fully that I had had no time to consider my own predicament. I was alive but, to the rest of the world, I was Maunder. I was desperate to see Una but without the bracelet I could not give her warning of my transformation. I took the path out along the headland towards Mrs Ball’s cottage but when I drew near I chose a vantage point where I could observe the house and still remain hidden among the gorse and rocks.
As I expected, Una’s thin figure appeared as soon as the sun was up and struck off down the rough track to the shore. I waited a few minutes and then made my way down to the cottage. The door stood open as Una had left it (as Una now always left it). The cottage was empty. I had hoped to find Mrs Ball – to explain to her the situation and ask her to speak to Una. But the old lady must have waited for me to return and, when I did not, gone to make enquiries. I pondered what I should do. I was concerned that, having rid themselves of one witch, Maunder’s pack would decide to rid themselves of the witch’s sister. Perhaps I could watch over Una without showing myself to her.
I knew where Una would be and, keeping out of sight, I climbed down to a ledge from which I could observe her. She sat motionless on the flat rock like the statues of Buddha I had seen in Ceylon, legs crossed, hands resting in her lap, the palms open, gazing out to sea. There she remained throughout the day, never moving while I waited and watched. I longed to go to her, to put my arms around her and hold her. She was all that I had left to love. My sole reason for being alive. But I knew I must not. Her poor disturbed mind would never grasp what had happened to me. If she caught sight of Maunder, she would believe I was dead.
It grew dark and still she sat there. I could bear it no longer. I left the ledge and crept down close to her, keeping behind rocks, then whispered as softly as I could, ‘Una – it’s me – Rhiannon.’
I waited. There was no response. I whispered again – louder this time. But no – not even the slightest movement.
At last I went up to her and laid my hand gently on her arm. To my horror it was cold. Not the coldness of one who has sat too long in the wind, but the coldness of death. I held my hand by her nose and mouth – was there a faint breath? I laid my ear to her chest, praying for a heartbeat – but I heard nothing. Her eyes were open, unblinking. Her spirit had stayed away too long. If not already dead, her body would die very soon.
Being Maunder, I had no trouble lifting her. I carried her up the track to the cottage. Stepping through the doorway, Una’s body limp in my arms, I came upon Mrs Ball.
‘Murderer!’ she screamed. ‘Wicked, evil monster! Wasn’t it enough for you to murder Rhiannon that you must murder her sister as well? Poor simple creature, what harm could she do you?’
Seeing what she saw, what else could she believe? I tried to stammer an explanation but she rushed past me, only pausing on the threshold to shout, ‘You will hang for this!’
I laid Una on her bed. Kneeling on the floor beside her I let my head rest on her still body and my hand toyed with the bracelet around her thin, cold wrist. Let them hang me. What did I care? I had no desire to live as Maunder and with Una gone