Modern Magick

The Road to Farringale: 7

Jay looked like he was strongly disposed to vomit.

'Are you all right?' I said. Quite uselessly, for he clearly was not.

'Fine,' he replied through gritted teeth.

'Your legs are shaking.'

'My everything is shaking. But I'm fine.' He got to his feet and stood, visibly trembling. But since he was also wearing the clenched-jaw look of a man who will not be helped, I left him to it and devoted myself to a largely futile attempt to figure out where we had ended up.

We were in the middle of a henge, of course, though it was not the flashy kind that hordes of tourists come to see. Little remained of it but a ring of decaying wooden posts half-sunk in wet earth, and surrounding that (and us) were... trees. Straggly ones, thick enough to obscure whatever lay beyond but otherwise rather sad-looking.

'Place requires some tending,' I said.

'Most of Britain requires some tending.' Jay took a deep breath, stretched, cast a quick glance around himself and set his face resolutely in what appeared to me to be a completely random direction. 'Ready to go?'

'Where? I have no idea where we are.'

'Somewhere in the vicinity of Glenfinnan. We're a few miles away from Finnan Enclave.' He checked my shoes and, oddly, smiled. 'Boots. Good.'

'Why do you seem surprised?'

'I thought you might have shown up in heels or something.'

'I am not that much of an airhead, Mr. Patel.' I haughtily shouldered my bag. 'Lead on.'

Jay's comment did not much surprise me. I am not expected to be much of a walker; you wouldn't anticipate that about a woman with a fondness for delicate, impractical clothes and improbable hair, would you? But actually, I love to walk. I enjoyed our hike, for the environs of Glenfinnan proved to be green hill country, dotted with patches of woodland, and here and there glimpses of an expanse of clear, serene water. The air was bright and crisp and I breathed deeply, somewhat regretful that our errand was of such urgency as to prevent of our exploring.

Jay clearly had no soul for scenery, for he marched on without ever pausing to admire. Nor did he ever waver as to direction. He certainly had focus. He seemed so little inconvenienced by his obvious shakiness before, I didn't want to admit that my knees were shaking, too, and it took half an hour for the waves of nausea to stop assaulting my stomach. I pretended I was fine and so did Jay, and we accomplished our forced-march in rather less than an hour.

Finnan Enclave's front door proved to be at the base of one of those gorgeous, craggy hills, a bit like at South Moors. We stood in the twin shadow of two swelling peaks, one rising on either side of us. Drifty clouds had raced over the sun, and we stood bathed in a mild, unpromising gloom as we studied the green, heathery slopes before us.

'Are you sure this is it?' I said after a while, when Jay seemed undecided.

'Yes.'

All right, then. I waited while Jay rambled about a bit, looking this way and that in a decisive fashion, and occasionally touching protruding rocks.

'Do you know where the door is?' I said at last.

'Of course I do.'

I waited a little longer, watching in idle delight as a tiny pink skreerat poked its head out from in between a tuft of grasses, eyed Jay beadily, and vanished again.

Jay finally gave up his futile search. 'It's one of these,' he said, gesturing broadly at a tumble of fallen boulders.

'How do you know that?'