The Cultivated Girl

Chapter 14 - Kensington, London

The story so far...

Simone is having the worst birthday of her life after her shock encounter with Amira and Elizabeth and it gets even worse. Her clutch mates are AWOL, Nada has accused Alexia of being a vampire, Due seems to prefer the company of plants and Joli is still in the infirmary. Then Janie picks a fight and before she knows it Simone is in a ritual hand-to-hand combat with Amanda. But she's hallucinating and in big trouble until Alexia steps in. Too late Simone realises she was poisoned.

Will Simone make it?
Who poisoned her and what does the strange fight mean?
Read on...

A brightly coloured casserole dish danced on the gas oven. It looked as merry as if it had been dancing there since the ill-fated day the storm broke and the earthquake struck. Of course, it hadn't. Amira had just put the pot on and was boiling up another of her potions.

She didn't feel guilty using her employer's apartment as her own personal headquarters, especially now that she'd rid herself of that brat. It was highly unlikely Elizabeth would leave her comfortable family life or admittedly demanding dual schedule to check in now that Simone was gone.

So Amira had moved her things from the tiny, eaved room that had been hers as au pair into the master bedroom with its kingsize bed. She might have felt guilty that she was betraying an elder of the coven but she didn't. In fact, she felt rather satisfied that things appeared to be going exactly according to plan. Her days as deputy were thankfully numbered.

She sensed the whisper of footsteps jogging up the narrow, carpeted stairwell. Amira smiled. That's what was wonderful about London apartments. Such a siege mentality. These beautiful old apartments, all connected by a single street door and a narrow winding stairwell. And they were all the same, from Portobello to Hampstead Heath. Easily defendable.

Soon, after twelve repetitions of a discreet, coded knock, the entire Guild was assembled. Amira looked around the tastefully furnished room at the assembled women. It looked like a book club gathering. They ranged in age from blushing 20s to stately 50s, differing in height and appearance. What united them all was the spark of the fanatic in their eyes. Her fanatics. Ready to follow orders.

"Blessings upon you my Sisters," said Amira. She placed her china teacup on the table and continued.

"Great Goddess, she whom we call BastBula. We greet you. We bow down before you here in this consecrated space. The Guild of Destroyers calls for sanctuary."

The casserole dish spluttered in the background as if apologising. Amira waited as her coven completed their ritual greeting. Finally a cool breeze ruffled the shaggy rust pelt of the rug. She sighed. "Great Mother has blessed us. Begin."

A willowy girl in a buttercup dress with matching heels stood up. Her name was Clare and she spoke in a sweet Irish lilt. "High Priestess. Tell us, do we have the girl? Do we have her?"

Amira smiled. It was a thin, cruel smile. "I believe, Goddess willing, we do."

A collective gasp shuddered around the room.

"Get out of here. You mean you have the Diplomat's Daughter?" said Dani. The youngest of the coven, she favoured denims and chucks over dresses. In some ways she reminded Amira of Simone but with better posture and impeccable style.

Dani softly quoted: "The one of power, foretold to bring about the glory of BastBula and the Age of the Dragon, where this world will be purified in Her fire. She who marks the end of a breeding programme that began with Adam and Eve, in the Age of the Snake. She who with her clutch, will form a fist, to strike down Man and his foul deeds."

Amira stood and spread her hands. "Sisters, we have much work to do. I have planted the seed that as we speak spreads bitterness and dissatisfaction through her. For her to work in our service she needs to join the Guild."

"But High Priestess, membership is usually put to a vote. Are you presuming to veto the knowledge of the Guild?"

"Clare," said Amira. "Since I challenged Michaela and won, have I ever disappointed the coven?" She looked around at the women, taking in their stance, reading their intent.

"The time for the Guild of Destroyers to strike is now. I ask you. After all the years I have spent discovering the identity of the Diplomat's Daughter, preparing her for harvest, are you willing to risk everything for petty ascendancy claims?"

Clare blushed once before she brought herself under control. Amira swore the woman's honeyed tones were the sweet corruption seeping out of her. She wouldn't stand for it.

"As you know, the price for admittance to the Guild is blood. The girl will make a fresh kill of innocents. This will bind her to us," said Amira.

The coven clapped politely. Dani, the newest addition asked the question Amira could see they were all thinking.

"But High Priestess, the Guild already has 13 members. Who...?"

"That is for the Goddess to decide at the appropriate moment," said Amira. With a wave of her hand she turned the TV on. A split-screen image appeared, marking the Hoover Dam, a snow covered expanse that looked like the Antarctic, a reservoir in the South American jungle and an arid region of desert in Namibia.

"Sisters, the Age of the Dragon will be brought about by stealth and cunning. We will poison the world's water supply. Those sufficiently skilled and trained under the wing of the ever-merciful BastBula will have no problem detecting and transforming the taint. The rest will be purged. Clare, fetch me the potion. Sisters, tonight we weave our wills."

Goddess willing, Clare wouldn't survive.

*** I hope you're enjoying this as much as I've enjoyed writing it.
Please keep the comments coming - they're a huge help!
And the votes, always the votes.
Thanks for reading :-) ***