Offering to the Storm by Dolores Redondo

Author:Dolores Redondo
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008165550
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2017-07-18T04:00:00+00:00

31

The Berrueta family’s lawyer had asked if the owner of the Almandoz mines could make a statement at the police station in Elizondo rather than in France. Iriarte had agreed to take care of it; Amaia had received a call from him first thing that morning to tell her she needn’t be present; it was Saturday, and besides, she was officially on holiday.

‘Is Jonan there yet?’

‘No, he isn’t due in today.’

‘We agreed he’d bring me enlargements of the photos he took yesterday showing the inside of the tomb in Ainhoa …’

‘Have you checked your emails?’

‘Yes, there’s nothing. I expect he’ll email them to me later or take them in to the station this morning.’ She hung up.

She and Engrasi had sent James out to buy sponge cake with Ibai, while they made coffee and settled down for their women’s talk.

Amaia filled her cup and sat down opposite Engrasi.

‘Auntie,’ she said, making sure she had her full attention.

Engrasi switched off the television.

‘I first saw him in the forest a year ago, as clearly as I see you now, less than five metres away from me, and on at least three other occasions, two of them quite recently, he has come close enough for me to hear his whistle. That gamekeeper I met last year claimed he had seen him, although he had just been shot, so his perception could have been distorted by the shock. You told me you came across him by chance when you were sixteen, while out gathering kindling in the forest. And then there’s the case of Professor Vallejo; I can’t think of anyone less likely to have witnessed such an apparition. He has the most logical, scientific mind of anyone I know,’ she said, glancing at her aunt, who sat listening quietly. ‘But the thing that concerns me right now is not so much who has seen him but the number of sightings there have been of late. It was no accident that I saw him, Auntie. He wanted me to see him. And I need to know why.’

‘I’ve been giving this a lot of thought,’ said Engrasi. ‘I must have read everything that’s been written on the myth of the basajaun, the folk stories. He is considered the keeper of harmony, the lord of the forest who preserves the balance between life and death. That balance has been disrupted – the unnatural deaths of those girls last year, then the monster who incited men to kill women and leave their remains in our valley, not to mention the fate that almost befell Ibai in that cave – these were deeply disturbing, utterly unnatural crimes and they took place in the domain of the basajaun: the mountain and river. I believe he has been forced to show himself in order to try to restore the natural harmony.’

‘The river,’ murmured Amaia.

‘The river,’ repeated Engrasi.

Cleanse the river, wash away the crime, the voices of the lamias echoed in Amaia’s head.

‘But what does it mean?’ she asked. ‘What are

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