“We are.”
“Our eyes are sensitive to a tiny part of the spectrum of light, and that’s how we see our environment.”
“Science wasn’t one of my favourite subjects at school.”
Catherine smiled. “We should talk to our forensic friends. I’m sure they could contribute to this discussion.”
“Best focus on the task ahead.”
“You know other creatures—like cats and dogs—seem able to see things that we don’t. I once saw a cat acting weirdly around a meth addict. Its fur was raised, and it was hissing at the man.” Catherine clawed at Jack and smiled. “We can only see a tiny part of what's going on in this world.”
Jack had already decided his partner was crazy, but in a nice sort of way.
“So, Jack, has Wiccan awakened a spirit in you? Why the question? Have you seen a demon?”
“Not me, Cath, but one of our witnesses. He says he sees them all the time. Well, maybe not all the time, but he’s given us a good clue to help identify the one who was in charge of the ritual.”
“Is she a demon?”
“No, but one keeps her company. It was there when she came off the ferry, and it was there at the ritual. He believes he can possibly show us who she is.”
“Wow. It’s a good start. We can find out who she is and then try and find some evidence that lives in the spectrum we can see.”
Jack rubbed his hand down his face and onto his neck. The unseen realm. Just like the ocean. We can’t see what lurks beneath unless we dive into it.
“That’s a plan,” Jack said. “We’ll meet up with the ‘demon seer’ at the island tomorrow and review the CCTV footage at the Island Ferry Services office. I’ve already sent the paperwork to get us access.”
Demons? He wasn’t sure. He knew how that would play in court. Yes, your honour, this is the lady with a big green demon attached to her.
He needed a holiday.
But meth addicts saw the same thing. There must be an element of truth in what our demon seer guy said. Many meth addicts talked about entering another realm, another dimension.
He looked up towards the girls. Shoana was looking directly at him, with an almost trance-like expression. What was her connection to all this?
19 – God on the move
THEY WERE HOME, and Ruby was in her bedroom with Zoe sitting on the edge of her bed. Street light fused into the room through open curtains. Ruby didn’t want darkness.
“I’ll be alright, Zoe. I know you’re in the house. I’ll message you if I need anything. I do feel a strange peace about what happened. I can’t explain it, but I will when I work it out.”
“You’re special, Ruby.” Zoe patted Ruby on the legs, stood, and looked up at the light. “Did you want me to leave the light on?”
“I’ll put on my reading light.” Ruby reached over and turned the light on and gave Zoe a smile. “I’ll be fine.”
“Remember to text if there’s anything you need.” She walked to the door, switched of the bedroom light, and left Ruby to conquer any fears that were to assail her.
She was glad Zoe left the door open, so she could hear her pottering around in the kitchen. Zoe was a good friend. Shoana . . . she wasn’t so sure about Shoana. Ruby hesitated but closed her eyes and was glad when bright patterns swirled around in her eyelids. She didn’t remember seeing these patterns when she was—
She opened her eyes and sat up.
There was a shadow in the corner of the room. Standing.
Please go away.
The shadow didn’t move. She blinked several times, then realised the shadow was nothing more than a large plant that she moved into her room last week. She’d forgotten, wasn’t used to it yet.
What happened? She closed her eyes again. The patterns swirled and danced. She was grateful for the men who saved her. Her eyes watered up. The shorter man . . . his eyes. She wished he was here now. There was a peace about him, and she wanted that peace. She remembered the other man from the boat, the one with the beard. He was out the back with Ruby and the other lady.
The lady. Something she said. She’d asked how her mother had died. Why did she ask such a personal question? Was she just being friendly, or was there some sinister motive?
What stupid thoughts, Ruby.
She wasn’t tired enough to sleep. She reached for her backpack and pulled out her MacBook. What else had happened in the world during her island visit? She checked the news stream: the usual stories relating to sex, weight loss, death, rape, murder, the gay community, earthquakes, world conflicts. Why did she bother? Why did negative news far outweigh the positive? It wasn’t really negative news—it was news that attracted people’s attention. If no one read the stuff, there would be no news.
Next, her Facebook page. She’d posted about her plans for the weekend. The MacBook had stayed home and her phone had been neglected since her trip, so she hadn’t had a chance to see comments to her post. Her mind had been elsewhere, some dark place. She tried to smile with that thought as she scrolled through the comments.
Someone—a Christian—had made a comment that she should stay away from the occult. Shoana had taken offence to that, replying that Wiccan wasn’t the occult.
And the battle went on. Witches, Wiccan, black magic, magick.
Shoana was definitely protective of her Wiccan. Ruby was confused. Wiccan was all about nature and brought god into it—god was in everything. Why would this Christian oppose a nature-loving religion? Didn’t God make all things? But why would the Wiccan followers bury someone alive?
She had been a sacrifice. A sacrifice for what? And why her?
One comment in the post frightened Ruby. It said Wiccans communicated with demons.
Demonic deception. She texted Zoe.
