Chapter 46
THEN
The brothers stared at one another, the atmosphere charged with hatred.
Charles wanted to take the first blow, to knock Emory out the way he had done in the house. That had not been the first time he had punched him like that and won. But he was conscious of the pistol Emory had, which was still pointed at him.
‘I can hear Meg, you know,’ hissed Emory, circling Charles. ‘She is talking to me.’ He tapped his head with the butt of the pistol. ‘She is still talking to me.’
‘You are mad,’ replied Charles, curling his lip in disgust at the mess Emory was, matching his pace and movements as he faced the enemy. ‘You made a good pair.’
Emory laughed shortly. ‘And therein lies the rub. It is true, we were a good pair – until you had her murdered.’
‘It was not my fault. She was a witch. Or do you not recall?’ He pulled a face and tapped his own head in a parody of Emory. ‘Are you as touched as she was? You were the one who called her the Snow Witch. You gave her that name. Not me.’
‘We were children. It meant nothing.’
‘It meant everything. So you see, it was your fault she was executed. Fucking witch.’
It was then that Emory launched himself at Charles, taking him by surprise, the two men suddenly embroiled in a fist fight that showed no mercy to either side.
* * *
Blows rained down on each of them from the other.
His pistol was forgotten as Emory delighted in the physical contact, enjoying the pain in his knuckles and his body as each blow found its mark.
It made him feel alive; he had been numb for days now – how many days had it been?
He did not know; life and time had no meaning, not without her.
He heard himself shouting at Charles, punctuating each blow with a phrase that seemed to come from his heart and soul.
If Charles wanted to believe in witches, he would give himself something to believe in, to make his blood run cold…
‘A curse be upon you, Charles Milburn. You will pay for your errors of judgement. I curse you with all her powers and all her knowledge. I curse you for the harm you have inflicted on other people and the women you have violated. I curse you for your actions, your thoughts, your words and your deeds—’
With all his strength, he slammed his body into Charles, who was very close to the edge of Coventina’s Well now, and Charles slipped, regained his footing, then stumbled again.
It would only take one thing – one thing to finish it.
Emory grabbed Meggie’s dagger from his waistband, and saw Charles’ eyes widen as he raised it.
‘I curse you,’ he hissed, ‘and Coventina can have you.’
And he plunged the dagger into Charles’ neck, then pushed him roughly into the Well – into the fathomless icy-cold depths.