Chapter Thirty-Six

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Scarwell Woods, Orkney

May 2024

CLEM

Clem’s eyes are on the machete held by the man directly in front of her, next to the white-haired woman, who follows Clem’s eyes to the knife.

“For goodness sakes, Russell, put that away.” The woman shoves him away and as he turns, Clem’s gaze is drawn to his Rangers top peeking out from beneath his black cloak.

“My name’s Edina,” the woman says, ruffling her hair and looking faintly abashed. “Though perhaps you already know that, given you’ve been snooping around.”

“We’re not snooping,” Quinn says. He sounds in pain, and from the corner of her eye Clem can see he’s clasping his bad knee. “We were told the Triskele run things around here.”

“You make us sound like the Mafia,” the man with the machete says from farther back in the crowd.

“You killed Senna,” Clem says. “In the woods. I saw you cut her throat.”

Edina stares blankly for a moment, before turning to the man next to her questioningly. “Did you cut someone’s throat, Russell?” she asks him.

He shakes his head.

“I saw it,” Clem blurts out, though a voice in her head shouts that she should probably keep quiet. She feels close to tears, unable to control her emotions. Everything from the last week is bubbling up inside her, about to spill over.

“What you saw was a reenactment,” Edina says through gritted teeth. “A ceremony that we only perform on a Hare Moon, signifying the death of winter.”

“You staged a murder?” Quinn says hoarsely.

“This is Winter,” Edina says, holding a hand out to a young woman in a long black dress. She is short of stature, her face painted black, like Edina’s—and messy black hair, just like Senna’s. It’s the girl, and her throat is intact. “And she is very much alive.”

Clem drops her head with a sob of relief. It doesn’t answer the mystery of Senna, but the horror at this cold-blooded murder that has been coursing through her veins begins to ebb away.

“Please tell us where Senna is,” Clem whispers at last. “She’s still missing. We want answers. Our daughter is badly injured, and her boyfriend was killed.”

“Slow down a moment,” Edina says. “This is a different thing we’re talking about here, correct?”

“Nothing to do with the Hare Moon,” Quinn says.

“Senna is the name of one of the teenagers?” Edina asks. “From the incident on Beltane?”

“Beltane?” Clem asks. Then, remembering what Stephanie said: “It’s a festival, isn’t that right? On the first of May?”

Edina nods. “The night of the fire.” She says it in a tone of voice that suggests the two things are connected.

“What do you know about it?” Quinn asks, a little too direct, Clem thinks, given the circumstances. She is terrified of these pagan strangers, with their bizarre costumes and horned masks.

Edina doesn’t answer, and Clem can sense the air changing. Something is being communicated among the members in glances, without words.

“My d-daughter, Erin,” she says, stammering. “We think she joined the Triskele.”

“Do you, now?” Edina says, cocking her head.

“Yes,” Clem says. “I’d never heard of you before that. She joined in Glasgow.”

“I can assure you that she did not join the Triskele,” Edina says.

“She came to Orkney,” Clem insists. “And we heard that the Triskele meets here. So we wanted to speak to you—she came to see you.” This last feels more like a stab in the dark, but it feels impossible to break through to these people how serious this situation is.

“The Triskele is as old as time,” Edina says. “But there are many fraudulent groups. Your daughter joined one of them—not us. And we’d like to know more about them—we’re always interested in speaking with these individuals to persuade them that the misuse of our name and our values is taken seriously.”

“What about Senna?” Clem asks. “She went missing from the Isle of Gunn. And someone killed my daughter’s boyfriend, Arlo.”

“I’ll tell you the situation, as far as we see it,” Edina says. “Several years ago, something of great importance was stolen from us.”

“By Erin?” Clem asks, puzzled.

Edina cocks her head. “We know a group of people visited the Isle of Gunn and took the object in question. A book. A very old book.”

“Erin mentioned a book,” Clem says. “But I don’t believe she stole anything.”

“We want the book to be returned,” Edina says in a low voice.

“I think that’s going to be a bit difficult,” Quinn says.

“Why is that?”

“One of them is dead, one of them is missing, and the other’s in a hospital bed.”

“You must believe me when I tell you that your interpretation of what is ‘difficult’ would change radically if you know what I know,” Edina says.

“Which is?” Quinn asks.

Edina smiles, her eyes glistening. Clem feels a shiver crawl up her spine.

“I see the book is still in Scotland,” Edina says, her voice far away. “It is angry with the person for possessing it, and yet it knows she did so unwittingly. She was tricked by another and attempted to destroy it. And now, if she does not return the book in a matter of days, she will die.”

“A matter of days?” Quinn says. “Where is this book?”

“You mentioned you were told about us,” Edina says. “That someone told you the Triskele run things around here. I’m taking it you’re expecting us to help you find your young woman. Senna. Perhaps we can help each other, in that case.”

Clem nods. “Yes. Yes, we can.”

She thinks of the book she saw in the hospital bathroom.

The strange scene of the woman that sprang up from its pages.

“Let us go,” she says. “And I swear I’ll do everything I can to return it to you.”