Conundrum (Steve Lyons) by Conundrum (by Steve Lyons) (html)

Author:Conundrum (by Steve Lyons) (html)
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter 9

Ace of Swords

‘There is Evil at work in the village; Evil which I know to be centred on the castle in the hills. Now my children have been caught up in the Web of Darkness, and I have to see what the future may hold – for all of us.’

Phil groaned and bit his lip. He knew there was no point in protesting, not when his wife was like this. His best bet was just to be patient, wait for her to get the whole charade over with so that they could get on with something more practical.

Rosemary, seated nervously at her desk in the inner sanctum between house and shop, took his silence as a sign of consent. Slowly, methodically, she shuffled the tarot pack and laid a dozen cards out before her.

She nodded sadly as she turned the first, gasped in astonishment as she turned the second – and again, as the third was revealed. By the time all twelve were lying face upwards, what little colour her cheeks once possessed had drained totally away.

Staring malignantly up at her were the white skull faces of an impossible six Death cards.

Ace woke up and it had all been a dream.

At least, that’s what it felt like. Only so did reality… somehow blurred and indistinct, the soft lines of her bedroom folding horribly back on themselves and performing somersaults inside her head. She closed her eyes and the sensations seemed to ease. She looked deep into her memory but it was just a black hole, beginning only now to fill slowly with the information she needed.

She had been in an accident. That must be it. A young boy called Boyle, with an upraised brick… a blow to the head… or was it a time‐storm? Ripping straight through the lab, lifting her upwards, spiriting her far across the universe in the blink of an eye.

No. That was a stupid idea.

Some dream she must have had. She rubbed her throbbing head ruefully as she climbed to her feet and looked for her reflection in the dressing‐table mirror. She didn’t possess one. She didn’t even possess a body – or rather she did, but it had somehow managed not to get out of bed with her.

Poor, sweet young Dorry, there in her Care Bears nightie, resting gently on the soft pink sheets. Not moving. Not breathing. Ace wanted to be sick, only she lacked the necessary organs to do so. Her mind was almost back with her, but it had not bargained for the scenario that confronted it. Racing chaotically, jumping from thought to thought… I’m only sixteen, I’m too blasted young to die!

‘I’m sorry,’ said the Doctor, ‘but that’s what everyone thinks.’

The Doctor? No, that was just a nightmare. Just a stupid, childish… ‘Didn’t I dream about you?’

‘Maybe,’ said the skull‐faced figure in the white suit and hat, and something sparkled in the empty black sockets of its eyes. Something that reminded her of the dream. ‘Many people do. Premonitions, you know.

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