Return of Souls by Remic Andy

Author:Remic, Andy [Remic, Andy]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2016-06-14T07:00:00+00:00

Castle Shell. “Ghosts.” 31st. October 1917.

JONES AWOKE, EYES WIDE, and found he was very cold. He took great breaths of air—his lungs hardly pained him now, aided by the miracle healing properties of the unnamed berries—and his hands roamed over his body looking for wounds, searching out bullet holes, feeling for that wet squelch of blood . . . He remembered Orana and looked for her. She was not there. He groaned and sat up, the cold blanket falling from him . . . and he was naked beneath the blanket.

Reaching out, he grabbed his shirt and pulled on the coarse garment, and then, taking a deep breath, he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, pulled on his trousers, and with bare feet moved into the stable, dragging out two hefty chunks of wood.

With care, he coaxed the embers back into life, fed a few twigs and later the heavy chunks. Once the fire was hot, he sat before it, a pain in his belly making him wince and think back to his dream, which had been so vivid, so real.

“Orana?” he shouted.

His voice echoed around the courtyard, and only the grim stare of the tower windows answered his cry. His words faded into stony silence.

When he was warm, he found his boots and pulled them on, then looked up at the dark sky. Heavy clouds had gathered and a chill wind blew, howling desolate around the dark stone sentinels. Rain was coming, and Jones gathered his few belongings and moved them into the stable. He built a small fire just inside the door, transferring burning wood from the outside circle.

He sat in silence, waiting for the rain, a cool breeze ruffling his hair, caressing his scarred cheeks. He thought about Orana. Where had she gone? Why did she not answer his shout? Fear suddenly touched him. Had she left the castle? Left him alone? Fled in disgust after their night together, after their lovemaking?

Jones wanted to find her, to be with her despite hating himself for his actions. What he felt was a kind of taking advantage of the situation. But then, she was an adult, and they’d been caught up in the moment. Forced together by circumstance, and then simply flowing with the moments as a river flows towards the sea.

He shivered.

So, why did he feel so awful?

It began to rain.

The fire outside the stable sizzled and Jones scanned the towers, looking for signs of life, of love, looking for Orana . . . for any sign of her presence. But she was not there.

“She’ll come back, lad,” said a voice. It was gentle, a man’s voice, and Jones closed his eyes and groaned, running his hands through his hair.

Jones whispered, “No! Don’t do this to me, Bainbridge . . . Don’t haunt me . . . Leave me alone!”

Jones looked up, head snapping back, around, eyes searching. He was alone, crouched in the doorway to the stable. He took hold of his SMLE for reassurance and peered out into the rain.

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