Free B00JX4CVBU EBOK by Peter Joison Page A

times. I’m not a spirit animal, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
    Celeste took a sip of tea, then said, ‘It seems that some Vordenes are given a human Ring. I don’t know why. We only just found out ourselves. But yes, we think you are our Ring. You’re here to fight with us, to use your powers to protect us.’
    Turner didn’t like the sound of all this magic and fighting. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but … is this Ring position permanent? Do I get a say in whether I take it on, or not? Because really, I don’t think I’m your guy. Maybe … maybe you should wait for the spirit animal?’
    Turner was not prepared for the effect his words would have. There was silence around the table. Skye and Chloe looked at the table, frowning. Ember looked away angrily.
    Brooke was the first to speak, ‘Maybe he’s right. He doesn’t belong here.’
    Celeste held up a hand. ‘Brooke.’ And, then addressing Turner, she said quietly, ‘how about you and I take a walk outside, Turner. I’ll show you the well.’
    Turner looked around at the other girls, none of whom would look at him. ‘Yes,’ he said quickly, ‘that sounds wonderful.’ Bloody wonderful.
    *
    Celeste and Turner walked down a few stone steps to a pebbly path. For a while neither said anything. The early morning bird calls and the crunch of the gravel underfoot the only sounds. Turner looked around at the manor gardens. The lawns were short and green, the bushes trimmed into careful topiaries. It all seemed well kept. Turner wondered who looked after the gardens, but imagined the answer would probably involve gnomes or fairies, so left the question unasked. Past a small fountain another path lead through a gap in an ivy covered stone wall, beyond which stood a small, white, stone building, its roof high-pitched and slated.
    Celeste noticed where Turner was looking. ‘The chapel. That’s where Aunt Lani spends most of her time. Where she is now. We were very lucky not to have lost her.’
    ‘Can I ask you a personal question, Celeste?’
    Celeste looked up at Turner. ‘Ask.’
    ‘How old are you? I mean … I just want to know whether I’m speaking to a three hundred year old wise woman, or a …’
    One corner of Celeste’s mouth turned up. ‘I’m twenty-five, Chloe and Brooke are twenty-four, Skye twenty-two, and Ember is twenty-one.’ 
    Turner looked back at the sunroom. ‘Phew, that’s a relief.’
    ‘That’s not to say with the right conditions you couldn’t have a Vordene sister who was one hundred and fifty, or so.’
    ‘Conditions? What conditions?’
    ‘Ah,’ said Celeste, ‘that’s what I want to talk to you about. I want you to try to see the big picture. It’s all about fighting and protection. We Vordene are soldiers really. Soldiers for the Earth. Sounds silly when I say it like that, but we think from the dawn of time Mother Earth has fought a war against rot, against decay, disease and evil. An evilness which, if not held in check, would grow like a cancer.’ She spread her arms. ‘It would spread across the world and destroy everything that is light, free and flowing. And if the war were lost, all life would be turned black, rotten and dead.’
    ‘So those hell creatures last night …’
    ‘The Scathers. Yes, they are the carriers. The spreaders of death. They tend to rise up occasionally like a volcano. Other times they are summoned, like last night with that horrible Skorn woman.’
    ‘I knew there was something wrong with her. Those eyes. Ugh. But the Scorchers?’
    ‘Scathers.’
    ‘Yeah. Scathers. How come no one knows about them? If they’ve been around since the dawn of time or whatever, why aren’t they well known?’
    ‘Scathers have a built in fell it seems. Whenever people see Scathers, they see something that makes sense to them: black birds, aeroplanes, storm clouds, swarms of locusts, that sort of thing. The Vordene, the Scathers, our battles, are all hidden from the eyes of