The Kelpie (Part Five)

The story starts here

Part Four

Part Five - Mum

Now I had a new nightmare, and the worst part was that it really happened, and there was no waking from it.

Night or day, eyes open or shut, I could see Tera being carried away down the beach and into the waves. Further and deeper with every stride.

I'd ran, as soon as I could move my feet, yelling for help all the time. People looked, curiously, but initially, made no move to help me. Why are grown ups so slow?!

Eventually someone paid attention, and once they listened and started taking action, others did, too.

"My friend," I panted, out of breath and hoarse, "my friend, I think she's been swept into the sea, you've got to help me!"

Still, some people paid no mind at all. Others looked, curiously, but didn't do anything. A few, though, a few started purposefully towards the beach, another said they were calling the coastguard. I gabbled helplessly to try to describe where I'd last seen her. I noticed, without the time to really give my rage time to swell, that some of them were just mooching along curiously. To be nosey. Able to say afterwards, "I was there!"

"I've got to go, I've got to find my mum."

Mum was in the kitchen making tea when I burst in the door.

"You're late," she said, "I was starting to worry - "

"Mum, one of my friends has got washed away."

She went very pale. I thought she was going to collapse again. She put out a hand to steady herself on the kitchen sideboard, and her knuckles went white.

"What - what happened?"

She seemed afraid of the answer. I knew I couldn't tell her the truth. It sounded too crazy to be real, and I needed people to believe me. Tera needed people to believe me. I was getting sick of lying because of Guinevere.

I'm not sure if she knew that I wasn't telling the whole truth, especially because the words stuck in my throat and it took me just a heartbeat too long to answer her.

"Tera went down to the beach after school. I went with her because I was worried about her - " this much, at least, wasn't exactly untrue - "please don't be mad, I know I should've come straight home, but she went into the water and didn't come out and I panicked and - "

Mum swallowed hard, still white-faced and trembling.

"I don't want you to go back to the beach, Jenny."

I sagged, half confused, half relieved. Why not? Does she remember anything about the day she miscarried? Should I ask her about it again?

I needed to go back. I really didn't want to. I was beginning to hate that stretch of sand and the jutting spine of wet rock. It was the setting for every one of my nightmares. Waking or sleeping. It instilled dread in me. I hated it the way I couldn't hate Guinevere. But I felt a really strong need to at least make sure people were looking in the right place. I was scared someone official would start asking me questions. What would I say? I was tempted to just give in. Throw my hands up and say, oh well, I tried, but Mum said...

That would be a cop-out, I knew. I'd defied her when it suited me. I had to do the right thing. Try to make up for the wrong things.

"I'm sorry," I said, and dashed back out of the door.

"Jenny!!" Mum yelled after me the way I'd yelled after Tera, and my brother. I gritted my teeth and kept going.

++++

People had asked me questions. I didn't mention the water-horse. I answered as honestly as I could (it was a miracle I could still remember how,) while leaving that part out. I was genuinely upset, so if my responses seemed garbled or incomplete, at least there was a good reason for it.

At some point, someone wrapped me in a shiny blanket and pushed a hot drink into my hand. I was shielded from more questions for a while. I think they thought I might go into shock. Maybe I did.

You might think it a little late, but over the next few days, I started doing some reading. I used the computer in Dad's study, and visited the school library at break times. I started looking up types of horses, trying to find Guinevere. Of course I found nothing like her. I hadn't expected to, but I had wanted to. I wanted the answers to be boring and sane. I didn't want to be in an adventure. Adventure is just the word for "nightmare" used by people who are not stuck in the middle of it.

The answers came when I started looking up mythical creatures, especially water creatures. There were a few that were horse-like, and they varied depending which culture they came from. I wasn't sure which one Guinevere was, but some of her characteristics were consistent with kelpies. Maybe she was from Scotland. Maybe I could convince her to go home. And have her eat Scottish children instead? Yeah, that's loads better. As long as it's not on your doorstep anymore, right?

Even if Scotland wasn't where she was from, I was drawn to thinking of her as a "kelpie". Perhaps partly because her mane, dark, wet and oddly wavy, put me in mind of kelp. Not very imaginative, I know.

I felt sick to read about how kelpie hunted. They trick people into riding them, and then the rider can't get down. They're stuck there, and carried into the ocean and drowned. And eaten. Is that what happened to Tera? Visceral images swam into my mind. Great. More nightmares.

I became obsessed with Tera's last ride. Had she come to her senses and tried to stop, to dismount, only to find she couldn't? Had her flesh somehow melted to Guinevere's back? Or had she stayed there by the power of the spell Guinevere weaved around her?

If it was by strength of mind, then the rider has a chance - if they have strong enough willpower to withstand it, they could try to control the kelpie the way you do a horse - with legs and seat. They could break free. Throw themselves off. Or... they could carry a knife.... Let the kelpie carry them into the ocean and then...

A plan was forming. But as it took shape, so did my doubt. I was not a confident swimmer. Even if I succeeded with the first part of my plan, I didn't think I would be able to make it back to shore. I wasn't sure I'd even be able to hurt her, when it came right down to it. I loved her. Or thought I did.

I was not encouraged when I tried to look up ways to defeat this type of creature. It seemed almost impossible. Surely any animal will die if you put a knife in its neck?

Perhaps, if I couldn't defeat her that way, I could control her. The stories said she could be tamed with a Bridle. Which should I try first?

It all seemed academic because the truth was, I was not confident in my ability to resist her magic. I had not succeeded before, not really. Not for any length of time. I always obeyed her call eventually. When she shifted her attention away from me to someone else, that is what allowed me to break free. I didn't think I would be able to shield my true intentions from her. I didn't think I would be able to do it by myself, but there was no one else I could ask.

Except Mum.

No.

Alone, then.

It'll have to be.

++++

They never found Tera. I think her family moved back to London.

Mum forgave me for running out after she'd told me not to. Of course she did. Mum would have forgiven me anything. That's what mums are for. Dad stuck up for me.

"It was her friend, Julia, what did you expect her to do?"

"Friend" was a strong word, but I didn't correct him.

People started paying attention to me at school. I'd been there when "that girl got washed away". That made me interesting. I'd also failed to save her. That made me, for some people, to blame - which made me even more interesting, but not in a good way. Dad's oh-so-helpful advice was to keep my head down, and people would soon find something else to talk about.

I avoided the beach. I was on alert, always, for the hoofbeats on my eardrums that would drive me to the spot where she would find me. Knowing, all the while, that being alert to it would make me no less vulnerable to it. I was miserable.

My dreams were as varied as were they were awful. I thought back wistfully to the days when I'd wished for any other dream than the sight of my baby brother bleeding on the sand and being carried away, night after night.

I was stalling for time. I knew I would have to put my plan into action, but I wracked my brain constantly for a different one, a better one. Every day, I dreaded learning of another disappearance, another person or pet claimed by the white wave. I hoped, weakly, that she was satisfying herself with pigeons or seagulls.

I knew, eventually, something would force my hand. Someone would go missing, or I would get that fog in my head and the galloping hoofbeats in my ears. I had better be prepared. I started to use that notion to rationalise my hesitation. Not procrastinating, but preparing. Big difference. Sure. Keep telling yourself that.

I went back to the library and dug out books on horses again, this time paying much closer attention to the anatomy. I learned where the carotid artery was. I will never be able to do it.

I begged for some more riding lessons, and ran a hand casually down the neck of the ponies at the stable. Is that where it is? Is that where I need to aim for? I took a bridle from the tack room, taking a random guess it was probably the right size, and stuffed it into my jacket. At home, I looked at the tangle of straps and despaired. I was not experienced at putting one on even a regular horse. Always, the ponies were tacked and ready for us. A helper always did that part. There was nothing to practise on. Only one other option then. It made me feel sick, but I couldn't see another choice.

Mum noticed one of the bigger knives missing from the block in the kitchen and asked me if I had seen it. I lied (so many lies!) and said I hadn't.

++++

Except for one of Mum's best kitchen knives hidden at the bottom of my schoolbag, life seemed to be returning to normal. Things were finally good again with Lottie and Bam. Dad was right - people do eventually find other stuff to talk about.

Mind you, my parents were still tired and sad. I guessed it was about losing the baby. It was awful, but probably normal. My brain dialled back the bad dreams from "demon horse murdering my friends and family" to "watching a classmate drown", so that was good. I think. Mum even left me on my own one afternoon to run some errands. Buy milk. Pop in to the butchers'. Get a spare key cut. Mundane, everyday, boring, normal things.

Except for the fact that mum's belly wasn't growing, and Tera's seat in the classroom was empty, I could almost forget about Guinevere.

Dad still hadn't taken the padlock off the front door, even though I'd not tried to break out to see Guinevere for ages. One night I went down to the kitchen for a drink of milk to soothe my scream-torn throat, and found Dad dozing at the table.

"Dad," I shook his arm. "Dad! It's OK Dad, you can go to bed. I don't do that anymore. I promise."

He blinked at me slowly. "Just go to bed Jen," he sighed. I took my milk up to my room, feeling a little hurt.

He doesn't trust me. I suppose I deserve it.

The next night I woke up to them yelling and crept downstairs. Mum was crying, and Dad was saying, "You've got to stop this, Julia, please!" He was barring the door and she was trying to push past. My blood turned to ice.

Dad wasn't camping out in the kitchen for me. The padlock wasn't for me. While I had been putting off my plan, pretending all was normal, trying not to think of Guinevere... she'd been calling to Mum.

I had to act.

Tomorrow.

I promise.

++++

I didn't fall sleep for a long time. I couldn't. I listened for Mum's footsteps. I promised myself that if I heard them I would go down and help Dad to keep her from leaving the house. I considered, again, talking to Mum about Guinevere. Maybe we could stop the kelpie together. I knew Guinevere was only leaving me alone because she had her horsey hooks in Mum. I suspected that she could only really effectively enspell one person at a time. I could use that. But that felt all too much like using my own mother as bait, or a decoy... and I didn't know if I could bring myself to do that.

If that's what it takes to stop the white wave taking her, then you can and you will.

I woke with a start, with far too much light in the room. It's late.

I dressed in a hurry and went downstairs. It was eerily quiet. Dad must have gone to work already, but it was odd that Mum hadn't woke me. She should have been in the kitchen packing my lunch while the kettle boiled. Shouting up the stairs that I was going to be late. Nagging me to eat breakfast and put socks on.

The kitchen was depressingly tidy. No one there. No breakfast things put out. Perhaps mum overslept, as well. She must be tired.

I ran back upstairs to the master bedroom, shouting, "Mum? Mum! Mum, are you awake?" There was no answer. Her bed was neatly made. I banged on the bathroom door, which swung open on an empty room.

I used the rude word that she had given me permission to use.

I grabbed my school bag, with the knife stashed in the bottom of it, and tore back down to the kitchen. Still no thundering in my ears. That's good, I think. It gives me some time. She might not know I'm coming. She might not turn her mind to me and figure out what I am going to do.

When I tried to leave, I found the front door still padlocked, and I cursed again.

I tried to leave by the other door, round the other side of the house, but the key wasn't hanging in its usual spot. I'm locked in! I tried to call Dad, but the line was dead. What am I going to do? Panic was swelling. I cursed again.

In my mind, I could see Guinevere cantering away from me along the beach, edging deeper into the waves with each stride, her rider bound to her back. This time, the rider wasn't Tera. It was Mum.

What if I'm too late?

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You can read the final part of the story here 👇